#but needless to say amelia's better

[riley1cannon]

Calling Amelia Peabody fans: Do you know about this book?

I mean, did I just read a trial run at the series? Did Ms. Peters/Mertz pick this one up say around 1975 and say to herself, "Huh... Y'know I was onto something with this one. Needs some tweaks, starting with taking everything back to Victorian times, but by golly, I have a feeling there's something here worth exploring."

[sometimesanalice]

In a Place Just Right

Summary: It's your first year hosting Thanksgiving in San Diego for the Daggers and Bradley can tell you're a little nervous about it. But he already knows it's going to be one for the books, because any holiday spent with you better than anything he could have imagined.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5K

Warnings: fluff and allusions to smut (minors dni)

(author's note: this fic is set in the 'Like I Can Universe', but can be read on it's own! Happy Thanksgiving, friends!)

For the last six years Penny has been the one to host Daggersgiving, but this year hostess duties had fallen on your plate. Needless to say, Bradley knew you were more than a little stressed about it.

When you had asked him about his opinion on the merits of canned cranberry sauce versus homemade he’d blinked at you a few times before asking, “Is this a thing people care about?”

He’ll never forget how adorably aghast you looked to learn that he had no preference on the matter. And maybe if you had asked him when the sun was up instead of at 3 AM he might have known better than to give you such a noncommittal answer.

“Both, we’ll have both,” you’d stated resolutely.

“Whatever you want, kid," he’d murmured as he’d pulled you to his chest and wrapped an arm around your stomach. His smart and beautiful wife. "Now go back to sleep, you’re supposed to be dreaming of sugarplums not cranberries."

“Wrong holiday, Bradley,” you’d sighed contentedly, relaxing against him. And it hadn’t taken you long to fall back asleep with that cranberry crisis having been averted.

But now people were due to show up in less than an hour and you are frantically fluttering and huffing around the kitchen like a madwoman in a very pretty green dress, "I knew that quickie was a bad idea. You're never quick, Bradley."

He’d been away and missed many holidays over the years due to his career.

Your mom had always made it clear that he had an open invitation to join in whatever merry festivities were happening with your family, but more often than not it rarely aligned with him being stationed all over the world. But he’d always been happy to get to have a phone call with you and eat the homemade cookies you’d sent him on those years spent apart.

But now Bradley got to look forward to spending every holiday with you in the home you shared with him.

Over the last week the house had slowly but surely transformed into something that was straight out of a magazine.

There was a display of pumpkins, ribbons, and a garland of strung dried orange slices that decorated the fireplace. And overpriced candles from your favorite store flickered cheerfully on every surface that wasn’t a fire hazard to a bunch of enthusiastic Naval aviators. The dining table was dressed up to the nines and everyone spot with their names painstakingly written in your pretty script on a place card sitting in a pinecone.

You had even made some oversized confetti in the shape of oak leaves out of some old books, the copy of ‘Why Men Love Bitches’ that Nat had given him years ago as a joke was finally repurposed and recycled into something more festive over where the beverages had been set up.

The whole house smells amazing. Warm cinnamons and nutmegs mixing with bright citrus and rich vanillas. The kitchen island and countertops were filled with various plates and platters and bowls of dips, charcuterie, fruit and vegetables, nuts, and other savories. All the other dishes were being kept warm in the ovens for when everyone arrived and was ready to settle around the dining table for dinner.

Bradley was positive that no one would leave feeling hungry. He also wasn’t entirely sure where the things his friends are bringing were going to go, but there were worse problems to have.

Penny had taken Amelia with her to visit her family on the East Coast. They’d decided it would probably be better for Mav to hang back in San Diego for the holiday, those tensions with her dad were still a bit strained even though they’d been married for almost four years now.

Which is how the Bradshaw’s were hosting their first Thanksgiving for everyone.

This morning had been organized chaos. Some of the last minute-things had only managed to be checked off with the assistance of strong coffee and a good playlist.

However, he’d still managed to sneak in the opportunity to spin you around the kitchen to your wedding song when it came up on shuffle. After all the cranberries were still popping and boiling down; there was time for it, he'd always make time for it.

But that was then.

Now, you are glaring at him like you’d been personally victimized by him and his cock.

“You complaining, sweet girl?” he asks with a smirk, leaning his hip against the kitchen island watching as you briskly stir the gravy heating up in the copper sauce pot on the stove. “Don’t think that’s what I was hearing thirty minutes ago when we had that pretty green dress of yours bunched around your hips. Sounded something like ‘more, Bradley, more’ to me.”

You shoot him a look that would make a weaker man wither, but he’s built up an immunity to it over a lifetime of having it directed at him.

“I think that’s quite enough out of you,” you reprimand, but he sees the amusement in your eyes even as you fight to keep the annoyed façade on your face. “We’re behind schedule now. I thought I buffered in enough time, just in case-”

“Just in case you begged me to give you an orgasm to, and I quote, ‘help me chill out’?”

“I was kidding,” you say, stopping your agitated whisking to go fluff the stuffing instead.

“All I’m saying is that if my beautiful wife is begging for me, I’m certainly not going to say no. I’m only human,” he says with an all too pleased shrug.

Bradley grabs the can opener and works on opening the canned cranberry sauce. He reaches for a couple plates, holding them up for your approval and you point to the one on the right, the scalloped white one with gold rim.

“For the record, I certainly did not beg,” you say primly, glowering into the homemade stuffing that you’d had him get the bread from the nice bakery across town for.

“Sure, sure,” he drawls, the smirk growing wider on his face as he sets to freeing the jelly from its rippled container.

He knows he shouldn’t tease you right now, but you’re so cute when you get huffy that he can’t help himself. He’s known that petulant raise of your chin his whole life. And sometimes when he looks at you he can so clearly see the little girl he’d been forced to entertain for hours when your moms were hanging out.

You went from being his favorite nuisance to his best friend to his everything.

“Do I still look ok? Or do I need to do a quick refresh before everyone gets here?” you ask. You turn to fully face him, tilting your head one way and then another for his inspection.

He would happily stare at you all day if you’d let him. He loves your pretty eyes and what you’ve done with your hair.

“You’re beautiful,” he grins, “And if anyone asks, we can just say you’re flushed from all the cooking.”

“Bradley,” you whine setting down your wooden spoon down on the counter with a sharp thwack.

“Ok, ok. I’m done, I promise,” he says putting his hands up in surrender with a chuckle.

He pushes off the counter and grabs a glass off of one of the floating shelves and fills it with some ice water.

“Good,” you tut haughtily, as you fiddle with the white and orange striped kitchen towel hanging on the oven door, “I was about to threaten to make you sleep on the couch tonight.”

“You wouldn’t.” Even the thought of it makes his stomach feel unsettled.

After nearly two decades of hard beds on foreign bases and on lumpy carrier mattresses, he’s never slept as well as he did since the two of you found your way to each other.

His peace was found under a fluffy green duvet on a wooden canopy bed with you tucked under his arm.

“No. No, I wouldn’t,” you agree, leaning in to place a soft kiss to his cheek in thanks when he presses the cold glass into your hands.

Bradley tugs you away from the warm stove and you reluctantly follow and sit on the barstool he’s pulled out for you on the other side of the kitchen island.

He runs his hand up and down your back comfortingly as you take a few sips, “We’re in a great place, sweet girl.”

“Mhm, yeah. Sure, of course.” You couldn’t sound less unsure if you tried. “It’s just… I’m nervous about the mushroom and leeks bread pudding. I’ve never made it before. And what if we run out of wine?”

“What’s been our motto?” he asks, taking over the helm at the stove whisking the gravy together as it begins to thicken.

“‘In Ina we trust’,” you say with a serious nod of your head. 

“Atta girl, we sure do. And Nat said she’s is bringing a few bottles she picked up from when she went to Napa, the good shit. It’s going to be great. Trust me,” he says giving you a warm smile. “Will it make you feel better to go over everything again?”

“Yes, please,” you say, anxiously drumming your fingers along the side of your water glass.

He’d stepped up where he could like making sure the house was pristine and cleaning up the yard by blowing off the wrinkled remainders of the yellow Tipuana flowers. He’d even been able to source and rent some more chairs to make sure that everyone would have a seat at the table.

Bradley wasn’t a schlump in the kitchen. He knew his way around a cookbook and a stove. His knife skills were pretty damn good too, if he did say so himself. But he also knew when somethings were out of his wheelhouse. So he’d taken to being your sous chef, and had taken to washing and prepping the ingredients for you so that all you had to do was toss them in whatever shiny pot they were destined for.

He even made his mom’s favorite pie. It had been years since he's had it, and he was excited to share it with everyone.

Your mom had mailed the copy of the original recipe she had that was written in Carole’s rounded, flourished script. You had made a photocopy of it to use so that the original didn’t get ruined, and then pointed out a spot on the wall where you said you’d thought it would look nice in a frame hanging in the kitchen. And he'd fallen a little more in love with you.

“Ok, hit me with it,” he says turning the heat to low for the gravy and putting the lid on.

This was a partnership through and through, he was going to give you all the support you needed.

“The turkey?”

Bradley picks up the fancy digital meat thermometer he’d bought for the occasion to check, “Big Bird has an hour and twenty more minutes to work on his tan and then he’ll rest for another thirty. Giving people time to graze and mingle and get some drinks in them, just like you wanted.”

You nod and hum contemplatively, “I’ve been thinking we need a salad. I don’t feel like we have enough vegetable options.”

He knows better than to point out that you’re currently snacking on snap peas from not one, but three, of the veggie platters the two of you had put together the night before.

“We’ve got the crispy brussels sprouts, the garlic and hazelnut green beans, and the honey glazed carrots with lemon. We’re more than fine on the fiber and beta-carotene. Michelle Obama would be proud, kid.”

That gets a little laugh from you.

“Well, as long as you think Michelle would be happy than we’re probably fine,” you say with a smile around your water glass that tells him you know exactly what he’s doing invoking your favorite First Lady.

“What else are you thinking about?” Bradley asks peering in the lower of their double ovens, where foiled covered dishes are lined up in perfect symmetry are warming away having been prepared in advance.

“Do you think two bags of rolls will be enough? Or should I text Mav and ask him to grab one more?”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes dip down to his ass in his gray slacks. So he might linger as second longer than necessary to let you enjoy the view, since it’s for the female gaze and all.

He’s never understood wearing the most restrictive clothing on the holiday that involves the most eating, but that was Penny’s tradition to have everyone dressed in their nicest and you had insisted on keeping it going even if she was on the other side of the country.

You’d teased him earlier when you’d seen him emerge from the bedroom wearing the short-sleeved green cashmere polo you’d gotten him a couple years ago. It fit a little more snug that he remembered it, but he thought he still pulled it off well.

“When did we become the couple that matches?” you’d asked gesturing to your dress as you gave him an appreciative onceover.

If the past was anything to go off of, you would be running your hands over the soft material covering his chest and back all night.

“I just like reminding people who I belong with, sweet girl.”

He might have had something else in mind to wear for the evening before he saw you in that dress, had ironed the shirt the night before and everything, but last-minute pivot it was well worth it when you looked at him like that.

When he stands back up, he gives you knowing wink.

And in return you throw a baby carrot at him with a laugh.

Bradley isn’t surprised in the least to hear the quick clack-clack-clack of nails on the wood floors as their fluffy black and white Portuguese Water Dog rounds the corner. Having been summoned by the sound of food hitting the floor from where he had been dozing near the fireplace in the living room.

The carrot is gone in an instant and he comes to sit at Bradley's feet by the stove, looking up at him from under his curly eyebrows clearly hoping he'll get another snack.

“Nah, bud. You’re barking up the wrong tree over here,” he says leaning down to scratch his floppy ears.

“Ah, come here, Duck,” you croon, calling him over to your side of the island. “He’s so mean for a man who claimed he just saw God not too long ago, isn’t he?”

Bradley snorts and shakes his head at you amused.

He still doesn’t know how he ended up with a dog named Duck.

At the dog park, more often than not people mistook it for ‘Buck’. And you were usually off to the side more than happy to let him take the lead, biting your lip to keep from laughing at his less than enthusiastic expression when he’d have to warily explain yet again It’s Duck like quack.

You’re not even subtle about the piece of cheese you pull from the charcuterie board to feed him.

“I saw that,” he says, giving you a pointed lift of his eyebrow, “You know Bob is going to be spoiling him all night.”

“It was just a little piece of cheese. Plus, I don’t know who you think you’re fooling. I saw you go over there and deliver him his own little veggie platter with some of the leftovers we had while I was making the apple cider sangria.”

“That’s different, that’s good for him,” he says rounding the island, reaching over and snagging his own slice of cheese to snack on.

“And cheese is a protein. He’s just a baby, Bradley, what am I supposed to do? Not give him a piece of swiss?” You slide off your chair to squat down and rub Duck’s belly, you’ve always been his favorite.

“He’s almost five,” he replies flatly.

“A youth!” you exclaim, “He’s a growing boy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bradley says affectionately with a little roll of his eyes. He knows a losing battle when he sees one.

He offers you his hand to help you stand back up, but you wave him off and pull yourself up using the edge of the island. You take a moment to readjust your dress before making your way to the sink by the big windows that look out into the backyard.

“Speaking of Bob, do you know if he’s bringing his fiancée?” you ask from over your shoulder as you wash your hands.

“Not this time, sweetheart. I guess she volunteered to cover a shift in the NICU when she heard they were short staffed.”

“Oh that’s too bad, I was excited to see her ring in person,” you say drying off your hands and heading to the pantry.

“It’s all he can talk about at work. I guess they’re thinking about a Spring wedding next year. They don’t want to wait too long to get married.”

“I’m so happy for them,” you say, digging around for a moment and then emerge with a stack of some sturdy plastic plates and set them on the last free spot on the countertop. “Don’t let me forget to make them up a couple plates that he can bring home for her, before Fanboy declares it time for ‘second dinner’ and eats all the yams like he did last year.”

“I won’t forget, promise,” he says fondly.

If you were facing him, he knows you’d probably tease him for the look on his face and just how gone he is for you.

You’ve always been so generous, it’s one of the things that he loves most about you.

You were always good about hustling him out of his well-earned money from is part time job scooping ice cream in high school, like with the fundraiser you did for the local soup kitchen and the one for the elementary school summer arts program.

He’s always been wrapped around your finger, it just took him awhile to realize why.

It’s the same reason why there’s been a donation that comes out of his bank account every month for the last five years for one of the San Diego animal shelters.

Bradley had made a rather sizable donation and then set up a smaller reoccurring monthly one after the chaos that was the time Bob had set you up with his friend who worked at the shelter, back before the two of you had gotten together.

Even after all these years, he still can’t help but get a little irritated every time he sees that guy’s face in the monthly newsletter that comes to his email. He’s pretty sure Casey still might have a little crush on you, but Bradley can’t blame him. He’d have a hard time getting over you too, so it’s a good thing he’ll never have to.

On newsletter day, Bradley always finds himself giving Duck extra treats.

You are his wife. And Duck is his dog. Ridiculous name and all.

He couldn’t wait to surprise you with the golden tennis ball that the shelter sends out as a thank you after a decade of donations.

Only five more years to go.

You’re over by the bar that’s been set up off to the side, straightening the already very straight rows of gleaming wine glasses when he hears you suck in a sharp gasp.

Bradley drops the dish cloth he had in his hands as he attempted to give what little counter space there was left a final wipe down and is in front of you in half a heartbeat. Was there a fluke with some faulty stemware? Are you bleeding? There’s a reason Thanksgiving is one of the busiest days at the hospital.

“The butter!” you cry out as you whirl around, your pretty eyes welling up with tears, “I let you fuck me and I forgot to pull the butter from the fridge. It’s going to be too hard for people to spread now!”

He knows it’s more than just hosting jitters that’s got you like this, but it still catches him by surprise sometimes.

“Woah, woah,” he says as he catches you on the way to the fridge and pulls you to his chest, “C’mere, my sweet girl.”

You make a distressed noise but allow him to keep his hold on you, “But the butter…”

“I already pulled the butter, see?” He points to the sticks that are already softening away on the counter. “This place looks and smells amazing. We did good, baby. Will you take a couple slow breaths for me, please?”

Bradley takes in a couple measured breathes with you, and feels the moment your body relaxes into his.

He presses a kiss to the side of your temple as he smooths his hands down your soft, pretty green velvet dress and the warm, firm curve of your rounded stomach soothingly.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. It’s the hormones,” you sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

He hums empathically as he sways gently side to side with you in his arms.

“I would like to go on the record saying that I like pregnancy hormones, especially the ones from earlier,” he jokes lightly.

“That makes one of us,” you say with a watery laugh, “Just wait until I am waking you up at 4 AM because I am craving something from a drive-thru that’s not open.”

“Mm, can’t wait,” he murmurs before dropping a few kisses along the soft line of your jaw.

Bradley still can’t believe he gets to be this lucky in life.

He doesn’t want to forget a single moment of this. With you, with his family.

“We did a really good job with this one,” he whispers into your ear, still stroking your stomach and enjoying this moment of calm with you.

“We really did, da--” Bradley groans and cuts you off with a kiss. He can feel the impish smile plastered on your lips as he kisses you. His favorite menace.

He knows you’re pretty sure it was the spontaneous hook up in the storage closet at the Hard Deck on the Fourth of July that’s responsible for the noticeable bump you’re sporting. Call him a romantic, but he likes to think it was that night in the Bronco overlooking the ocean when he’d taken the long way back home.   

You pull away all too soon for his liking to grab his left hand. He sees the flash of the two diamonds on your engagement ring, one from his mom and one from yours, as you take it and press it to a spot near your bellybutton.

The feeling of the fluttering under his palm will never get old. He’s not too proud to say he’d shed a tear or two the first time he’d felt it.

You hum in contentment, your finger lightly tracing over the shiny gold band of his wedding ring.

Bradley lets himself bask in this moment as the two of you stand there in the kitchen of your dream house.

There are a few pops from the wood in the fireplace, the refrigerator is humming away in the background, and he can just hear the sounds of a melodic piano from the playlist he queued up earlier playing over the speaker.

Of all the delicious scents that waft through the house, the smell the floral and musk notes in you perfume is still his favorite.

There are times in the soft quiet of night, usually when you are asleep and his mind won’t quite settle, that he sometimes thinks he was put on this Earth to hold you.

It’s the only reason he can think of that explains why you fit so perfectly against his body.

Why his palms can fit so perfectly over your rounded stomach.

Why it’s his hands that you have trusted to protect your heart.

And he’s still holding you in the warmth of the kitchen when he hears the front door open.

Bradley knows he’s going to have to play host soon and he just wants to keep you in his arms for just a little longer.

“Hey kids, I brought the turkey,” Mav calls out from the entry.

You spin in his arms, looking at him wide eyed and confused as you two exchange a look. He presses one last kiss to your cheek before letting you go.

“Thought you were going to bring the rolls, Mav,” Bradley calls out just in time to see him round the corner.

Pete stands there proudly grinning holding a few bags of bakery rolls in one hand and a turkey in the other.

The sound of your delighted laughter makes his heart swell in his chest as he takes in the sight.

“Cooper Mitchell Ford Bradshaw, you are without a doubt the cutest turkey I have ever seen,” you gush as you go to greet Mav with a warm hug and a kiss on his cheek. Your son’s chubby arms reaching out for you.

Mav has dressed your almost two-year-old son in a soft, plush turkey costume that is complete with tailfeathers and a beak. He’s clearly a fan of the outfit too because he is grinning widely, showing of the more of the baby teeth that have come in over the last few months.

Mav had swung by early this morning to take him off your hands to get ready for Daggersgiving without chasing an almost-toddler around. While it was nice to have some time just the two of you while you got the place in order and took care of the last-minute things, like that homemade cranberry sauce, but he’d missed not having his son around.

The sweet sound of Cooper’s giggles and your coos fill up the kitchen as he watches you pepper his face with kisses. You bounce him a little and do a little spin, making the little boy laugh even more. The two of you in your own little bubble.

“You doin’ ok over there, kid?” Mav asks. A soft, knowing grin on his face as he sets the rolls on the counter to pull him in for a hug.

The two men had made their way back to each other over the last few years, just another thing that Bradley was grateful for in his life. The man had always been his father in everything but name. That is until he’d seen the man who helped raised him hold his son for the first time.

“Yeah, Dad,” Bradley says, clearing his throat a bit, “Everything’s perfect.”

From there it’s a flurry of activity as people start to arrive.

Nat comes with her longtime girlfriend and the extra bottles of the fancy Napa wine she promised to bring. Only handing it over once he promised to give her the name of the contractor the two of you had worked with and the exact shade of green that was used on the lower cabinets during your kitchen renovation.

Payback and Fanboy and their wives show up wearing oversized turkey hats on their heads each carrying a bakery box of pie.

Bradley isn’t surprised when Duck ditches the attention that Coyote was giving him the second Bob shows up with the famous Floyd family scalloped potatoes. Bob has always been a sucker for a pair of puppy dog eyes.

And in between checking on people’s glasses, swapping out empty appetizer trays for fuller ones, and making sure Jake doesn’t tamper with his perfectly cooked turkey, he’s got his eyes trained on you.

There are no words for the pride and love that washes over him every time he looks over and sees you with his son propped up on your hip and the way your pretty dress stretches around your growing family.

He had missed this stage of your pregnancy when he was deployed and you were pregnant with Cooper. He was determined to savor every second of this one. Every butter related freak out and every late-night milkshake run.

Being in his house surrounded with all the people he loves, minus a couple who are here in spirit, isn’t something he could ever take for granted. It’s more blessings than he ever hoped to receive in this lifetime.

You look over your shoulder at him and everything about the way you’re looking at him is picture perfect.

Your smile sunshine gold and just for him as you hold his gaze for a moment as time ticks on around the two of you. You send him a little wink before turning back to Mav who has his phone held up for a FaceTime call with Penny and Amelia.

Bradley sees his son peek his head up from where it had been nestled into your neck. Cooper grins when he sees him, his tiny hand reaching out for his dad. For him.

As he makes his way over to the two of you with his heart full, he makes a mental note to ask Mav later where he got that costume. He’s already planning on running out tomorrow to see if they have any more in stock now that it seems they have a new Bradshaw tradition on their hands.

He’s going to have three little turkeys running around this time next year and he couldn’t wait.

Twins.

Bradley sometimes still couldn’t believe it. When the tech has announced that you were cooking not one, but two future Bradshaw’s, his heart had nearly burst from his chest from the shock and joy. A gift from his late father’s side of the family.

Cooper and him were going to be outnumbered soon.

The two of you had found out earlier in the month that Everly Wren Bradshaw and Millie Lark Bradshaw were going to be the newest members to join your little family.

His girls.

It was an announcement the two of you were excited to share later tonight with everyone else when the slices of pies were being passed around.

He scoops up Cooper from you with one arm, dropping a kiss onto his little boy’s perfect curls as his small fist clutches as the soft fabric of his shirt. And then Bradley kisses the crown of your head as he wraps his other arm around you, his thumb stroking the swell of your belly.

With you- because of you- he gets to have it all.

The wife. The family. The house. The dog. The life. The dream.

He’s right where he wants to be.

He’s right where he’s supposed to be.

Happy Thanksgiving! This was such a joy to write, thank you for reading!

It might not be Carole Bradshaw's famous pie, but it's one of my favorites! And who better to share it with than you! Cranberry-Lime Pie

If you haven't read the 'Like I Can' series you can read it here!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[egrets-not-regrets]

Dandelions and Yarrow (2)

Despite the arid conditions and the hardened ground, these plants are still able to survive.

Amelia calls her mom and decides to go home. Alcyon rages out on a mission then goes home, only to find a note and Amelia missing.

**Any dialogue in the Gothic language is bolded and italicized.**

Chapters: One, Two

Author’s Note:

Goodness, this chapter took a while to write, but finally it is done! There is more to come.

TW angst, threats, some lewdness (Slanneshi Blood Angel, what else can I say?)

Just a few points:

This takes place before Ben/Malaran “Orca” Blackspike storyline.

Amelia is bonded to Alcyon, a chaos Iron Warrior. These two share an intense bond that teeters on the point of becoming a mate bond.

Alcyon has a pretty good grasp of the english language. He usually communicates with Amelia in english and other Astartes in Gothic.

Thanks to @squishyowl for the divider image!

Song Inspiration: Take me back to Eden by Sleep Token

OCs: Alcyon (chaos Iron Warrior), Amelia Plover

Tagged: @shadowfirecat, @kit-williams, @bleedingichorhearts, @barn-anon, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@sleepyfan-blog, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @bispecsual, @ms--lobotomy

Amelia dialled a number which she hadn’t dialled for a very long time, “Aunt Mara? Mom?”

“Amelia? Oh sweetie! I haven’t heard from you in so long! I missed you so much... Are you alright?” Mara stopped when she heard the hiccups in her adopted daughter’s voice, “What happened dear? It’s okay to tell me. I’m here for you.”

Amelia started sobbing, “Mom, I fucked up so badly!”

Mara cooed soothingly, “It’s okay. You can tell me what happened. We can figure it out together…”

She heard Amelia struggle to steady her breathing, blurting out words in between punctuating sobs, trying to tell her the events culminating into the massive fight she had with Alcyon short of their physical altercation.

Mara’s heart broke for her daughter. Niece, if being technical, since Mara had adopted Amelia after her sister’s and her brother-in-law’s death in that car accident so many years ago.

Mara knew Amelia didn’t have the easiest time in her marriage and she wasn’t too happy about her daughter being in such close proximity to her in-laws to be honest, snooty bunch ultra-religious coots they were. But it seemed that her son-in-law had broken out of the religion and they were happy enough, and happier still when Amelia gave birth to Ben.

Luckily, Mara was able to see Ben grow up for a while. Despite the distance, their little family had made a few yearly visits to Gannet Point, and she visited them whenever she was able. All that stopped about three years ago when her son-in-law bonded with a space marine. She had met him once. He was a Black Templar, big, quiet, polite enough, but wholly cold and intimidating, so very different from Nemoth Bassanar, the Dark Kraken space marine who had taken residence in her hometown. Mara wasn’t quite sure what to think about the templar, but she hoped that he was kind and a good addition to their little family.

Unfortunately, the appearance of the bonded Black Templar marine started what seemed to be a series of events that led to the divorce. The fact that the Black Templar had bonded with her son-in-law had only increased the in-laws' religious fervor, demanding that Ben be raised in the ultra-religious household. It was rather unfortunate that her son-in-law seemed to cow to his family’s demands and rarely stood up for Amelia. Mara completely disapproved of that attitude, but was helpless to do anything else.

Then things started going further downhill when a chaos Iron Warrior followed Amelia home one day. Which had Mara actually getting into a nasty argument with the in-laws on the cruel things she overheard them say about her daughter when she visited. Needless to say, she wasn’t allowed to visit any more. Amelia and her ex divorced eventually, perhaps all for the better, but it hadn’t been easy as the family was convinced that she was going to corrupt Ben because she bonded with a chaos Astartes. It didn’t make sense, there were plenty of people who had bonded with chaos space marines who had no issues whatsoever.

As for the chaos Iron Warrior her daughter bonded with, Alcyon; Mara hadn’t met him yet. The one time she visited Amelia after her divorce, he had been on a mission. She just hoped that he would treat her daughter well and be her protector.

This whole mess of events made just seemed to be the culmination of everything that happened within the last year. And it broke her heart knowing that this would mean that they may never see Ben again. Perhaps Nemoth may have some suggestions on how to deal with this issue or point them in the right direction? It also wouldn’t hurt for Amelia to be around some friendly familiar faces. She’s been trying to get Amelia to come home for a while now.

Mara gently suggested, once her daughter had finished her story, “ Why don’t you come home to Gannet Point and stay however long you need. You know home is always open for you.”

Amelia smiled, quickly using the tissue in her hand to blow her nose, “I… would like that.”

***************

This mission couldn’t have come at a more opportune time. Angry and frustrated at what just transpired between Amelia and him, and irritated by the aching of his torn bond; Alcyon was just set to explode. Destroying wreckage, training and sparring with his brothers let off only so much steam. Everyone around him noticed Alcyon’s volatile mood and the fact that he was spending most if not all his time on base, though no one was dumb enough to comment after one of his battle brothers joked about him being locked out of the house after a lover’s spat during sparring and was sent to the medical ward with a broken arm and a bad concussion posthaste.

They had been tasked with bringing down a blood den that some fallen Blood Angels had formed. A blood den in itself wouldn’t have been an issue. The fact that Blood Angels require drinking human blood was pretty much an open secret at this point, it wasn’t exactly a well-kept secret with how much baseline humans liked to talk about it, given how common it is to see bonded Blood Angels.

Most blood dens that were set up tend to have baseline humans and the occasional Astartes going there seeking pleasure and/or relief and in turn being drunk from; like a well-run pleasure business. Keep customers satisfied and they would return for more, which in turn kept the Blood Angels fed and sane.

With the odd feral (usually of fallen to chaos Blood Angels) blood den, there are usually a few missing people involved, sometimes those lucky enough to be let go reappeared in some random place: weak, dazed, and confused. But this particular den of fallen Blood Angels had started targeting bonded humans.

They were psykers, not powerful ones (luckily), as reports noted, and were under the influence of Slannesh. Indulging in lust and pain of killing a hapless victim wasn’t enough once they discovered the effect of killing a bonded human. To feel the psychic backlash that a broken bond causes to both bonded parties and to its breaker was an overload of pain and sensation. It was like an addictive drug to them.

With Steelix Fortress being the closest base to the den, Alcyon and his chaos-aligned battle brothers were sent to exterminate them as these Blood Angels were deemed too far gone to be worth keeping alive.

Of course why not use chaos to fight chaos? At least that’s what it felt like, when they were given that assignment.

His squad of chaos battle brothers largely stayed out of his way as they each were let loose with their own heretic Blood Angel to hunt. There were no human serfs or thralls as the IXth Legion would call them, luckily. Otherwise it would have been a much more messy affair.

Alcyon arrived at one of the Blood Angel’s lair. The first thing his sight honed in on was the woman the fallen Astartes was drinking from. Was she… She looked so similar to…

Amelia.

The broken bond pulsed, causing the muscles in his back to seize slightly. He let out a low growl, “Let her go.”

He stared intensely at the claw and bite marks all over the woman's body. No, those were not his marks. That was not Amelia.

The woman moaned weakly. Still alive.

His tormented mind heard Amelia’s voice.

“Let. Her. Go.” His growl grew louder, more threatening, his rage building.

A wide grin came over the Blood Angel when he looked at who the Iron Warrior was staring intently at. “Oh her? Is she yours? She’s beautiful by the way, and her blood is most appetising.”

The woman whined in pain when the Blood Angel sucked on the open wound in her shoulder. He chuckled, “Her despair was incredibly satisfying. That look of betrayal when she realized the friendly Blood Angel is nothing but a farce is such delicious inspiration. These baselines are so easy to fool.”

“And your bond…” he breathed deeply, “It tears in the most delightful way, the pain from it was so profoundly stimulating.” He groaned, palming his crotch.

Alcyon stood there, silent, letting the Blood Angel monologue on, but inside, he was seething with anger.

Annoyed at the lack of reaction, the Slanneshi Blood Angel’s face fell into a petulant pout. He carelessly dropped the woman to the side, who collapsed into a boneless heap, “You Iron Warriors, are all the same: dull, boring, with no sense of art or flare.”

He then stared straight at Alcyon and started laughing hysterically, “Oh… I see now… Your bond is torn! Just not with this woman!”

The Blood Angel got up from the couch and stalked towards him with a predatory grace, “What happened? Your woman not satisfying your needs? A lover’s spat?” He said, grinning, not missing the way Alcyon’s fist tightened around his chainsaw handle. “Perhaps you’re the one not satisfying your bonded’s needs… Maybe I can assist with that… surely she would delight in someone who can take her beyond the limits of their pleasure and pain.”

Alcyon grit his teeth hard, furious at the Blood Angel’s audacity. The ache from the bond pulsed in his chest. He just needed the bastard to come within his reach; fuck using the chainsaw. That would just be a waste.

The Slanneshi Angel licked his lips, his eyes lighting up in anticipatory pleasure, “To watch the two of you suffer, watching each other as you lay dying and while I get to ravage her. Feeling your bond break and taste your despair. Oh, your final pain would be glorious! I can already taste it!” He pounced.

Alcyon had been anticipating that from him. Twisting to one side, he dodged the corrupted Blood Angel, quickly sweeping his leg causing the Blood Angel to trip and fall. He brought his heavy mechanized leg down on to the fallen chaos marine, hearing a satisfying crack as Alcyon’s full armored weight came bearing down with full force onto the vulnerable hinge of the Angel’s leg, breaking the ends of the bones attached at the knee joint.

Already half drunk from feeling the backlash from nearly breaking his earlier victim’s bond apart, the Angel only moaned in pain and ecstasy, then laughed; an ugly noise, “Jealous? I can teach you how to better use that mouth of yours. I bet she makes the prettiest noises with my tongue in her cun— grkh!” The heavy impact from the Iron Warrior’s boot to his gut drove the breath from his lungs as he was rising up.

“Shut up.”

Alcyon gave him no quarter, pinning the Slanneshi marine by the head and back, and tore into him, his metal claw ripping off the ceramite armor pieces and stabbing into the vulnerable flesh of his shoulder below. Blood gushed as muscle and sinew tore apart, the Iron Warrior’s claw digging past the scapula and to grab the humerus where it connected to the shoulder girdle. With a great heave, he ripped the arm right off the Slanneshi Blood Angel.

The Blood Angel roared in pain and flailed as he attempted to escape, splattering blood in every direction. Alcyon kept his full weight on the squirming Blood Angel and smashed his head into the ground, snarling, “Did that wake you from your drunken stupor?”

The Slanneshi marine hissed and bared his fangs at the chaos Iron Warrior, “You forget honour…”

“What honour? You have long sullied that, indulging Slannesh’s embrace!” Alcyon sneered in disgust, smashing his head into the dirt again.

The Blood Angel spat out dirt and blood, in pain, but grinning madly, “Yet you’re the one who sullied your own bond. What did you do, Iron Warrior? Did you…” he was cut off before he went into more lurid detail

“Do not. Insult me. You overindulging. Drunken. Psyker. Piece. Of grox shit!” Alcyon roared out, pounding the Blood Angel’s face harder and harder into the ground with each emphasis, not stopping, his grip tight on his scalp, his sight zoned in on the battered face.

“Brother Alcyon. Brother Alcyon!”

“What!” He snarled at whoever was calling him off his prey. The sound of buzzing insects filled his ears. The Death Guard in his squad, Polistes, stood by his shoulder with the unconscious woman in his arms, staring at the twitching body under the Iron Warrior’s heels.

“Half his face is sufficiently cracked if you intend to make scrambled eggs from his brain.” came Polistes’ joking comment, “We’re done here. I have the injured woman; finish up and let’s leave this place.”

“Fucking Slanneshi Psykers!” Alcyon spat as his heavy boot came down on the dying marine’s skull, splattering brain matter all over the ground.

Where’s Amelia? Was she hurt? Was she safe? Amelia. Amelia. Amelia. Amelia. His mind chanted as they left the blood den.

She’s fine. Probably still angry. There is no need to call… She’s not fine. What if… she’s fine… I don’t know that… Amelia… Alcyon could feel his bond pulse, his anxiety need to confirm her safety winning out. He called Amelia over vox, their fight be damned.

“Alcyon? What do you want?” Her voice, sounding exhausted, came over the channel.

“Are you safe? Are you home?” He blurted out. Alcyon knew should’ve said something to apologize perhaps, but couldn’t. In hindsight, he probably should have.

“Safe? Yes?” She sounded so confused.

“Good.” The Iron Warrior ended the call, the aching from his bond slightly abated. He needed to go home as soon as this was over. He needed to see Amelia in person and make sure his bonded was safe. She better not have changed the locks to their home while he was away… What was he thinking? Alcyon grumbled, even if she did change the locks; he could easily break in the door. Must be this aching that’s distracting him.

****************

Amelia looked at her phone strangely after Alcyon curtly ended the call. What was going on? A small part of her was glad that he checked on her, but the aches and pains in her body reminded her still to be wary of him.

She had planned to go to Gannet Point for a week and a bit to visit her adoptive mother and see the rest of home. Amelia missed her family, much more so now. It would be nice to see friendly familiar faces again. She called the base, telling the head tech that she needed to take time off to recover from the aftermath of getting banned from Ben’s school and to figure out what to do next. Which they had graciously granted.

Not wanting to risk another confrontation with Alcyon finding out where she was going, lest he decides to trap her here given his mood; she called the airport to book her ticket for the next flight out to Gannet Point.

Amelia then turned her attention to the damage on the wall and table. Sighing at the gouges, she diligently repaired the wall and the table, filling in the holes with wall putty and wood filler. She robotically moved from task to task: cleaning her home, throwing away her torn clothes, using up whatever food was left in the fridge, and packing a small suitcase of clothes and supplies for her trip.

After all was said and done, Amelia took a quick shower and sat in front of her computer. She pulled out a piece of paper and started writing a letter to Alcyon. Outside of letting him know that she’ll be away for a week and a half, Amelia wasn’t sure what else to say.

She did not want to tell her bonded Astartes, if they were still that, where she was going. Her birth home was her safe haven that she kept near and dear to her heart. The last thing she wanted was for Alcyon to come charging in to take her away and get into a fight with Nemoth, the Dark Kraken space marine who practically watched her and other children grow up at Gannet Point. Amelia’s heart felt sore; she was so tired and confused. It felt right for her to just get away from it all; go somewhere safe to lick her wounds and recuperate, and figure out what to do next. Yet guilt tugged at her chest, as if telling her that she should stay and work it out with Alcyon. Tears started to drop on the letter she was writing.

The sun just broke over the horizon when Amelia prepared to leave for her flight. She looked forlornly at the small box containing the pieces of the broken fish figurine, and in a last minute decision, packed it into her suitcase. A ping sounded as a text on her phone notified her of her taxi’s arrival. Amelia placed her letter on the table and left, locking the door behind her.

****************

Alcyon sensed something was off when he arrived at his shared home with Amelia. Her presence was fainter than normal, as if she hadn’t been home for at least a day.

His nausea started to build as he checked every room of their empty home. Everything was neat and tidied. There was no signs of a struggle nor signs of anyone else that may have snuck in. Alcyon stared at his claw marks in the walls and table that were filled and sanded. Even the fish statuette that he broke was cleaned up and likely thrown away. It was only then he realized that Amelia had not changed the locks on him. It was of little consolation when she herself had disappeared.

Where was she? Where was his Amelia?

A letter on the table caught his eye. His world narrowed with each neatly written gothic word he read:

Alcyon, I will be leaving for ten days. Don’t worry. It is safe where I am going. I just (the ink blurred there. He could smell the remnants of her tears) need to be away, to think about what I need to do next. I promise I will return. I lov- (she had scribbled out the last sentence.)

Amelia.

His lungs froze as if he had been struck by a beam from a Helfrost pistol. She left. Amelia left him. A chaos of emotions whirled uncomfortably in his gut.

No. She promised she will return in ten days. He only needed to wait ten days… what if she didn’t want to return? Bile rose in his throat. The Iron Warrior doubled over, throwing up into the kitchen sink. His metal claw dug into the counter, supporting his shaking shoulders as he turned on the faucet to wash his vomit down the drain.

Suddenly feeling suffocated by his heavy armour, Alcyon quickly stripped out of it and made his way to Amelia’s room. He hacked into her computer, searching through her emails, online messages, search history; searching for anything that would give him a clue, something, anything that could indicate where his bonded may have gone.

There was nothing. The Iron Warrior wanted to punch the computer through the wall in frustration, but had enough sense not too. A strange wave of exhaustion washed over him, a feeling he had rarely felt unless he had not slept in weeks. He was sure he had slept recently.

Alcyon looked at Amelia’s bed, a place he had shared with her plenty of times. It looked comfortable. It smelled like her. He laid down on her bed, falling asleep while breathing in her scent.

[citylighten]

My Pietro and Sal gameplay have both been interesting and led to me having so many different headcanons. I’ve always struggled playing Fallout 4 because my main gripe is that I can’t recreate ANY oc want due to them having a set backstory and dialogue that reinforces certain plot things, but Pietro has a pretty good Sole Survivor AU. He's canon divergent though. More undercut!

-Pietro Impellizzeri was an notorious and powerful gangster Pre-War. He’s similar to Vito Corleone of The Godfather in the sense that he immigrated to America as a child and rose to the top of his community’s underworld.

-He had crossed paths with the human Nick Valentine on numerous occasions over ‘missing people’ as well as a ‘dirty money trail,’ but Pietro always knew how to throw the detective off. They were neither enemies nor friends, just merely people who kept a tense eye on one another.

-As a Boss, in terms of his conduct, Pietro was a composed, fair man but he was also known to be ruthless when the situation called for it. Outside of public events, he was seldom seen. If his men saw him it meant something bad was going to happen. Despite having such affluence and respect, Pietro's over-indulgence in the finest things (liquor, media, women) kept him blind to the things going wrong in his personal life.

-Pietro was married to Jasmine, who was a pinup model before marrying him. Their marriage was based on sex, possession and material interests. Ultimately, Pietro was a largely inattentive husband due to the demanding nature of keeping things afloat in his criminal empire.

-As a nuclear war approached, Jasmine began a series of affairs with men. Some powerful, some were Pietro’s enemies. Her wrongdoings ranged from supplying large sums of money to her lovers, to telling inside secrets. There came a moment, days before the bomb dropped, when Pietro (at his limit) considered murdering his wife. However, this did not come to be as the bombs fell over America.

-Needless to say, when Kellogg shoots Jasmine, Pietro feels guilt. Yes, he was plotting to murder her, but he knew that line of thinking wasn’t right. He doesn’t come into the Wasteland in the pursuit of being a better, kinder man, instead his decent actions come largely from the need to survive and understand the world he’s in.

Whereas Sal comes out Vault 111 ready to murder and massacre anyone in Eve’s name, Pietro’s mentality is: “I need to understand what civilization is like now. I need to know who is in charge of things.” Especially because since Pietro has been at the top for so long, it’s been years since he was doing dirty work for himself, let alone personally killing others on a continuous basis.

-When Pietro meets Nick Valentine there’s tension. But, they recognize they need each other to find Shaun, however there isn’t full trust between the men. Gradually, as the two spend more time together, Nick believes that Pietro can become a good man in this new world and often pushes the idea that Pietro is kind. Pietro does not believe himself to be kind, because he’s not burying the man he used to be before the bombs fell.

-There are times when Nick and Pietro split and his companions become MacCready, who reminds him of a lackey he would’ve used Pre-War, and Preston, who is yet another character who believes there’s an inner goodness in him. As a result of Preston and Nick - plus an envy for the mayor of Diamond City, Pietro decides to invest time in building the Minutemen and building settlements to lead. Despite possessing aspirations to lead, Pietro is shifting morally. Often, Nick helps him on Minutemen quests which strengthens their relationship.

-While helping settlements, Pietro meets Rosaria at Covenant. The woman is a secretary for Jacob Orden, the town’s mayor. Even when Pietro seems like he could be trouble for the settlement, she helps him learn more about the Amelia Stockton case with her insider information. After that, she leaves Covenant to affiliate herself with the Minutemen, which allows Pietro to see her more often. Time with Rosaria [who enjoys farming] has Pietro nostalgic about Sicily and as a consequence, he grows to enjoy things about nature as well as treasure the present he gets to spend with her.

-And that’s all for now because I haven’t completed his run yet 😘

[silverdragon128]

This should go without saying (but apparently it doesn’t): this list is STRICTLY 18+

I’ve decided to make a fic recommendation post, based on the stuff I’ve been reading over the past couple years. Be aware, some of this stuff is DARK. The dove is very much dead, and occasionally so is the violated child’s corpse. Obviously none of the dark shit is condoned, and for me, reading and writing it helps me come to terms with my twisted and fucked up childhood/life (the way Grimm grips to Hornet, and everything about Amy even down to her name are wayyyy too real). TW for rape, child abuse, grooming… read the tags, guys. Please. Not all of these are so fucked up, but enough are that you should be warned.

First up is a series by @doceopercepto & @best0utthere:

In particular

And

READ THE TAGS! The above series heavily focuses on grooming, csa, and other very dark topics. Read at your own risk, every story is an incredible read.

Next up is

Which is also very Dead Dove, be aware that the story entirely focuses on a very fucked up relationship initiated by attempted murder and rape. This one along with the previous series was very important in helping me realize I’d been assaulted as a child. Take that as you will

Up next is probably one of my absolute favorite stories of all time

I had never heard of Worm before reading this, and still haven’t read it. This one dives heavily into rape recovery and how such a betrayal can affect your relationships. Almost a year ago I went through sexual assault committed by someone literally named Amelia (what Amy is short for) who I was so close with we could’ve been siblings, and I was saved from her by someone many would consider a villain. Needless to say, this fic really connected with me

This one

Is the story that got me shipping Enid x Wednesday (I’ll only ever accept Enid domme lol)

By virtue of it being an HP fic I’m worried about recommending it but @thistlecatfics’

Is a phenomenal (yet horribly fucked up) story that I all but consider canon (and consider a massive improvement to the actual books). Mind the tags, this one’s all about grooming. (Based on a quick search their blog the author is supportive of trans people)

Next is a close friend of mine @myqueenmarceline

Whose every work is so good I literally couldn’t pick a singular one to recommend

Finally, we’ve got @inquestorm’s

And

Which not only are phenomenal stories, but also resources I use alongside the games as research for my rewrite. I feel she frequently has a better grasp on the characters than the devs do, so I take her interpretations as canon

Feel free to rb with your own recs/comments on the ones I’ve posted

[dongslinger--420]

Hey, kids!

My name's Amelia, I'm 19, and I'm the only bjhm fan on this entire website with good takes! Isn't that shocking!

This blog's content swerves mainly from pretentious think pieces to shitpost comedy to senseless gushing about whatever character I'm thinking about this time, so all in all it's a pretty fun time! Feel free to interact and send asks, because if there's one thing I LOVE, it's rambling about stuff that really doesn't matter in the long run.

In my day to day life, I'm a musician! I might do something musical that's related to this fandom at some point! Follow this blog to increase the chances of that happening! Or not!

I write image descriptions. If you reblog a post in which I have written an image description and delete my addition with the ID, you are getting blocked. The fact that you care more about your blog looking nice than blind people isn't something I want to see, thanks.

Tags:

I'm usually very specific and formatted with my tag system. If I ever refer to an episode or a season in a post, you will find it tagged as "[name of episode]" and "bjhm s[X]". The same goes for any character. Full names are used except for Sarah Lynn, and if any character doesn't have a full name stated I write it down as "[name] bjhm". The other exception is BoJack himself, who I consistently refer to as "bojack the horse" to distinguish him from the name of the show.

Other tags I use include:

#amelia answers -- when I answer asks that aren't asking for my hot takes

#amelia's hot takes -- responses to any ask with the 🔥 emoji

#bjhm s6 critical -- because I have enough thoughts about this season to span an entire tag, and because my absolute favourite pastime is being angry I am always open to more prompts

#an extremely funny commentary -- I like to watch the show with my best friend! Here you can see our thoughts on an episode in real time

#bjhm analysis -- I have been analysing fiction for fun for the better part of 10 years now, and I have an A in GCE Film Studies to show for it. Needless to say, I have a lot of things to say.

[hcartachesx]

if you’re hearing RUNNER UP by BAILEY SPINN playing, you have to know KENDRA CRANE (SHE/HER; FEMALE) is near by! the 31 year old 911 OPERATOR has been in denver for, like, 1 YEAR. they’re known to be quite PESSIMISTIC, but being HARDWORKING seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that they resemble KAT GRAHAM. personally, i’d love to know more about them seeing as how they’ve got those RAINBOW BOOKSHELVES, HALF DRAWN SKETCHES CRUMBLED IN THE TRASH, AND STAYING UP ALL NIGHT MAKING SOMETHING FOR OTHERS vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around the CHERRY CREEK long enough!

This is probably going to be really long I am sorry. There are some wanted connections at the bottom as well as on my page!

Basic Info

Full Name: Kendra Anne Crane

Nicknames: Ken, Kenny

Age: 31

Birthday: January 18th, 1992

Zodiac: Aquarius

Occupation: 911 Operator

Schooling: Parsons School for Design

Hometown: New York City, New York

Ethnicity: Americo-Liberian, Ashkenazi Jewish

Languages Spoken: English, ASL, Hebrew, French

Gender: Cisfemale

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Relationship Status: Single

Living in: Cherry Creek District (Owen’s Crescent)

Family Info

Maternal Grandparents: Alan and Bertie Cohen lived in Denver most of their lives. Alan was a business owner and mayor for ten years before retiring while Bertie was a teacher. They left their home in Cherry Creek to their granddaughter Kendra.

Parents: Neil and Amelia Crane are well known Manhattanites who participate in many charitable functions within New York. Neil is the CEO of a Fortune 500 company and Amelia is a former fashion editor and socialite, sitting on the board of many charity groups.

Siblings: Mitchell Crane, the oldest of the Crane children, is a Yale School of Law graduate and a district attorney, on his way to becoming a judge and beginning his political career. Alana Crane, the youngest of the Crane children, is a socialite and social media influencer, having a hand in everything from modeling, travel, and small acting parts.

Pets: Mushu (ball python), Magnus Bane (cat), Oz (pitbull), Rowan and Aelin (lovebirds), Pax (horse)

Physical Info

Hair color: Black

Eye color: Green 

Height: 5’2”

Tattoos: ‘Love’ in Hebrew along her back below her shoulder blade, ‘Hic Sunt Leones’ on her left wrist

Piercings: Two in each lobe

Character Inspo: Monica Gellar (Friends), Brooke Davis (One Tree Hill), Jen Lindley (Dawson’s Creek), Feyre Archeron (ACOTAR), Grace Ryder (911: Lone Star), May Grant (911), Amanda Rollins (Law & Order SVU), Olive Smith (The Love Hypothesis)

Background

Kendra was the middle child of the Crane family, an upper class family from old money and history. The Cranes have been in politics, the stock market, car manufacturing… You name it, someone from their family was probably involved in it. While her mother came from a more simple background, she was still pretty well off as well. She has an older brother, Mitchell, who is following in their grandfather’s footsteps and getting into politics, gunning for Congress eventually, while her younger sister is more of a free spirit. 

Kendra was always the middle child, the scapegoat of the family. She was either ignored or being blamed for her sister’s problems, like somehow she was the reason her sister got super drunk at a party Kendra didn’t even attend. Alana had a lot of medical issues when she was born and almost didn’t make it, so she could do no wrong in her parent’s eyes. She got everything she ever wanted and the slightest accomplishment was ten times better than anything Kendra worked hard for. Sure, Kendra got straight As and an award in science, but Alana got homecoming queen.

Needless to say, there was always a bit of a competition between the two. Alana got all the praise, love, and attention, but she couldn’t match Kendra’s brilliance and talent. Kendra was super smart and talented in art. She got into Parsons School of Design easily while Alana decided to put college off and travel the world and finding herself (note: ten years later and she’s still ‘finding herself’).

Despite not getting much attention from her parents, she had the support of friends, grandparents, and professors who saw her talent and encouraged it. After graduating from Parsons, she started her own line of wedding dresses and became a huge hit very quickly. Her parents weren’t that impressed but at least other people saw her potential. 

Kendra met Daniel Trent at a party, which she was attending to meet people who may fund her next collection. He was charming, sweet, and made her feel like the only girl in the room. He was a hedge fund manager, making a stupid amount of money for stuff she didn’t quite understand, but he was supportive of her own passions and job and it was a great love story. They dated for years before getting engaged. But things all crashed weeks before the wedding.

That was when she walked in on her fiance sleeping with her sister. Turns out, they had been sneaking around behind her back for two years of their four year relationship. He admitted that he was in love with Alana and wanted to end their engagement. 

This wasn’t exactly new to Kendra. Alana had a history of stealing her friends, crushes, and boyfriends before. But she had thought that Daniel wouldn’t do that to her, that he only wanted her. She had seen her sister try to flirt with him when she first introduced him to her family, but he had ignored her. Apparently not as much as she had thought.

She had enough of her sister and yelled at her, really telling her what she thought of her. And wouldn’t you know it, her parents took her sister’s side, saying that there was nothing they could do and they should just let the lovebirds be. And Kendra had enough. She blew up at her parents as well, telling them they always took Alana’s side and didn’t care about her. Even her older brother was taking their side. So that was the last straw of being ignored by her family. She left.

The one family member that had always been on her side was her Bubbe Bertie. Spending time in Denver with her mother’s mother was a time when she didn’t have to compete for attention, it was just given freely as well as love. And a few years ago when her bubbe died, she had left Kendra her house in Denver, Colorado. Her maternal grandparents Alan and Bertie Cohen had lived in Denver most of their lives and Alan was even the mayor for several years. She had always been happy at their house, so she decided to go and live in the inherited house. She hadn’t been to Denver much in the few years, but it was far away from her family and that is what was important. 

Kendra couldn’t stand her own job though. Designing wedding dresses was just breaking her already fractured heart even more. She had worked months on designing and making her own wedding dress for the wedding that didn’t happen. She had plenty of money so she didn’t have to work, but she needed something to do to get her mind off things. Back in high school, she had done a volunteer program at a mental health crisis hotline, which then led her to helping out at a 911 call center later on. She had enjoyed being able to help people and was good at it, even though it was stressful. So she decided to do that again. 

Kendra has been settled in Denver for 6 months now, trying to rebuild her life and forget about her heartbreak from both her fiance and her family. She is focusing on her job, her books, and her pets. 

She is very dedicated to her pets and puts in a lot of effort researching all they need before adopting them. She also extensively trains them when needed. Kendra is a huge fan of books and has a huge library in her new home. She also enjoys cooking, especially sweets, and crafts like crocheting, knitting, and the like.

Kendra is stubborn through and through. When she made up her mind to cut off her family, she refuses to change it. She can hold a grudge when she feels it is justified. She is hard working and dedicated to whatever she decides to do. She is loyal where no one has ever been loyal to her. She is intelligent and loves puzzles and anything that makes her think. She is a huge animal lover and will gladly donate her money to animals in need. She is the type to sacrifice herself for others. She is very artistic but hasn’t drawn or sewn anything since the breakup. She is more guarded with her heart, not trusting that people will stay with her.

Wanted Connections

Childhood friends: Kendra spent a lot of summers, winter holidays, and spring breaks in Denver, so maybe your muse and hers were friends during that time

First Kiss/Crush/BF: It would be so cute if during those times she was in Denver, she had a little crush or something and they would send each other letters and emails and everything until it kind of just fizzled into friendship because long distance is hard

Coworkers: If your muse would work within emergency services, maybe they would know each other! They could grab drinks together after particularly bad days

Fan: Kendra was pretty well known and popular in the bridal fashion world, so maybe your muse is a huge fan of hers and doesn’t get why she’s not doing it any more. Maybe they even encourage her to design again

Knew Her Grandparents: Kendra’s grandparents were very involved in the social scene in Denver, so perhaps your muse knew them or heard of them before!

[yankstrash]

protective gabe when the other team shows up at one of their parties and one of them makes her uncomfy

the hockey team was throwing a party after their 5-1 victory over boston university. spirits were high, drinks were being served, and cheers were constantly erupting all around after the huge win.

gabe and amelia were sitting in the living room with a bunch of his teammates. she was comfortably in his lap, chatting away with his friends when she took the last sip of her drink.

"i'm gonna go get another drink." she semi yelled in gabes ear since it was so loud in the house.

"i'll come with you." he said, and was about to set his beer down when amelia stopped him.

"it's okay baby, stay here. i'll be right back." she said.

gabe hated letting her wander off alone during parties, but she assured him she would be right back and the kitchen was in eye shot of where they were sitting so he could keep an eye on her.

he nodded in agreement as she hopped off his lap and was off to get another drink.

she was in the midst of pouring her drink when she felt eyes on her. looking up, she saw a boy staring at her from across the kitchen island, a huge smirk plastered on his face.

he looked familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

"can i help you?" she asked the boy.

"sure, you can give me your name and phone number!" he responded.

amelia laughed at his attempt at hitting on her before saying, "classic. but not interested, sorry."

she was about to walk back to the living room when the boy grabbed her arm.

"hold on-" the boy began to say before he was interrupted by the all too familiar and sweet voice that amelia loved.

"l/n, let go of my girlfriend, now." gabe said as he reached the two and pulled amelia behind him.

the boy put his hands up in defense and said, "my bad perreault, didn't know she belonged to you. was just hoping she could make the night sweeter after that game."

l/n?

that game?

that's when it clicked.

he was a boston university hockey player.

"you fucking wish. now get your team and get the hell out of our house." gabe demanded. he kept an arm behind him for amelia to hold onto as she clutched onto the back of his shirt.

thankfully, the guy didn't put up a fight, and soon enough him and his teammates were filing out of the house.

"you alright, princess?" gabe asked as amelia came out from behind him.

amelia nodded her head, and gabe wrapped his arms around her before leaning down to kiss her head.

"that guys a dick, on and off the ice." gabe mumbled into her hair.

"sure seems like it." amelia agreed.

"cmon sweets, let's go back to the living room. that's enough chaos for one night." gabe said, leading her back to their spot on the couch.

needless to say, anytime she got up after that, he was right on her tail.

(sorry this kinda really um sucks! i will write a better one eventually i promise)

[desmondkane-of-ao3-fame]

What we’re everyone’s initial reaction to skarlow dating, not just the hexside squad but like Skara’s mentor Raine, Boscha, the rest of the Entrails, the rest of Hexside, etc.?

Thank you for remembering the CANNONICAL FACT (in my heart) THAT RAINE MENTORED SKARA!!!!

Luz is the most excited about the couple, having known, or at least suspected, their mutual feelings for a time. When Skara announces to the rest of the Hexsquad she's dating Willow, Luz rushes to hug the pair, jumping for joy at the thought of all the double dates they'll have together.

Amity is somewhat surprised by the news, but is still no less happy to hear of the pairs relationship. She congratulates the two, then asks Willow about how it all happened.

Gus, by this point, respects Skara and recognizes she's better then her days as Boscha's lackey. So when he hears about the two, he congratulates them as well. Though he does remind Skara that if he catches her doing anything that hurts Willow, he will personally make sure that she can never sleep without horrific nightmares again.

Hunter, though disapointed, is happy for the pair as well.

Raine, Camilla, and Vee hear about the event later at dinner with the Noceda's and Clawthornes. When she hears Skara's name, Raine's surprised, but pleased to hear that their former apprentice has left Boscha's crew and found herself a new group of friends, plus a nice girlfriend. Camilla and Vee, not being aware of the full context of Skara and Willow's relationship, are simply pleased to hear Willow has a girlfriend.

Boscha hears about the relationship through the Hexside rumor mill. She denies it, before seeing the pair holding hands, Skara draped over Willow's arm. She's initially hotly enraged, but quickly cools down to a boiling annoyance, ending up with a dull, throbbing headache whenever she thinks about the two together.

Viney learns about the couple at their next Entrails practice, seeing Skara blushing and thanking 'Petals' whenever Willow compliments her. Viney pulls her little sis into a big hug, followed by a noogie, and goes on to joke about all Skara's 'embarrasing secrets.'

Cat, Amelia, and Bo all learn about the pair through Skara's Pensta, where she posts a picture Willow took of them at a fair together. The three girls congratulate Skara next time they see her in the halls, eager to hear everything they can about the relationship.

I've talked about Willow's dad's response to the news here, but needless to say, they're both weary of the news until they meet Skara again and soon realize she's their future daughter-in-law.

Skara's parents... well, we don't know them, but assuming they're anything like in Guitar Strings, where they're both doting, it's likely they'd want to make sure Willow was worthy of their daughter, before seeing how much Skara adores Willow, and how well Willow treats her Skary, at which point they both come to the same revelation as Willow's dads.

[imxthexhandler]

Where in the world is Ephiny

OOC: So, it’s been a minute.

I didn’t mean to go poof. Just...had a LOT happen.

Below the cut if anyone wants to read, tw: hospitalizations (not me), death (not me), depression, social anxiety (those two me)

My favorite uncle died Saturday. He’d been sick on/off since late last year, this was his second hospitalization, but he was taking an upward turn, so I honestly did think he was going to make it out.

I know he was just tired.

I know he was. I know it’s better he’s not suffering, that he’s no longer sick, he’s no longer hooked up to machines, because I know that’s the last thing he wanted.

But God damn, do I miss him.

Well, anyway, suddenly, last week, my aunt told my mom that if she wanted to come see him, she’d better do it that weekend. So, cue me having to juggle things around, thankfully didn’t buy a ticket for the Ant-Man and the Wasp meet-up event my friends were doing, change my off day, and just...I am very blessed with whom I work for now. Because if I was still at the courthouse? They wouldn’t have allowed it.

So, I did my first overnight babysitting gig in two years. My sister, bless her, was okay with it. I know that was so off from her usual routine, and for someone like her on the autism spectrum, I know it’s a major stress and anxiety trigger. Very proud of her.

So yeah, they took him off the ventilator and the other machines. Per my aunt, he went very quickly and peacefully, my mom got a chance to tell him goodbye, she told him how much I loved him, and my cousin was able to make it in with his daughters.

My parents came back Sunday afternoon. Then, yesterday (I took it off from work because we didn’t know originally when my parents would be back--and honestly, I needed that day), my father’s face swelled up, his tongue too. So he had my mother drive him to the E.R...only to not want to wait there because it was completely filled, and the swelling was finally going down after he took two Zyrtec. So they came home, and my poor mother ended up banging up her knee.

Needless to say, my nerves are shot. I haven’t been sleeping well. I just...I feel everything and nothing all at once.

And I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting everyone on here. I really am sorry. I just haven’t had the drive, and even when I have, I feel like I’m just a horrible partner and writer so why bother? I feel like my partners hate me, and I know y’all don’t (at least, I hope not), it’s just my anxiety talking. I know it’s not true, but it’s like I got this damned imp sitting on my shoulder, whispering in my ear that I’m worthless. In other words, got a lot to talk about at therapy next month.

I’m going to post up some Valentine’s day memes first. If anyone wants something, just hit me up--comment on here, send me an ask, send me an IM. This counts for both romantic AND platonic. Even if our muses have NEVER interacted, hit me up for Amelia to give yours some cookies.

Take care, everyone, happy archer’s day!

[gilneanwitchythings]

“Peacebloom can be used– Amelia, are you listening?” The voice belonged to a somewhat irritated Kaldorei woman whom the self-proclaimed harvest witch had been trying to learn more from when it came to herbalism. There was a lot to grasp when it came to herbs found in Kalimdor, and Amy was doing her best to learn all that she could in order to better her skills. But the smell of burning wood was what had distracted the young girl. “Aye, sorrey’ Shan’do Winterlight.” Many years later Amelia would regret not saying something sooner about the smell, but in the future it didn’t rightly matter anyway.

Despite the dangers that were on the horizon, a few that had remained in the grand city chose to go about their lives as normal as possible. Many loved ones had gone to fight and head off the Horde, but a very large realization was beginning to dawn as that aroma of flame reached more noses. The enemy is here and the world tree was being put to the torch. Some panicked and others were as calm as they could be, considering the circumstances. The myriad of fire was beginning to lick and eat at the bark and everything in its path that it possibly could, this meant flesh as well over time. It wasn’t long before the whole of the city was burning, and different folk were attempting to evacuate to wherever they possibly could.

Portals were still open to the Exodar and there was also one to Stormwind in the Eastern Kingdoms located within the Temple of the Moon as everyone was fleeing. In the inner place of the temple, Amelia had seen some sisters of Elune that weren’t moving. Others present were doing their best to keep the inner part of the place clear of fire, to allow the escape. It was becoming obvious to the witch that some were planning to stay in order to help others to the very end, if needed. That was beginning to become part of her plan as well as she helped fellow students that were learning with her not long ago, children, the elderly, whoever needed to leave immediately. Before she could leave the temple in order to continue her task, a hand stopped her. “No, you need to leave as well.” It was the same teacher that Amy had gotten to know over the past year that she had spent in Darnassus.

“What?” Confusion filled her pale face and voice, both before she was shaking her head. “No, I can still help ya’! I cannot jus’ up an leave, Shan’do.” But her words fell and Erindia Winterlight could only smile down towards her student. There was a moment of quiet between the pair, or as silent as things could be, before the Kaldorei spoke again.

“You will be needed on the other side, whichever portal you choose. Time is running out. Go.” That last word was so final in Amy’s ears and a look of defiance quickly made its way onto the Human’s face, but Erindia had been right. Time had run out and just as the last people went through the exit to the Exodar, Winterlight shoved Amy through the other towards Stormwind. In the Mage Tower there were many already on their way towards the Cathedral for medical aid, but a lone harvest witch had collapsed into a crying fire-singed heap.

This was the first time that Amy was seeing Stormwind but not much of it mattered to her in the moment because of the loss she had just endured, so many needless death’s and for what? This was something she needed to find out but it wasn’t until she reached the Cathedral that the hatred burned away temporarily, her teacher had been correct. Others were going to need her help to heal. Inside there were so many burned and heavily injured that needed attention, even Queen Greymane was helping out wherever she could despite having some inhalation issues thanks to the smoke. Very fast she set to work in order to put her skills to great use but while this was happening, she had no idea someone was watching her efforts very closely.

Practically working herself to the point of exhaustion, Amelia eventually had fallen asleep sitting on the floor next to a stone bench nearer to the exit of the building, simply leaning against that stone and snoozing away. In the morning when she woke up, the eighteen year old felt cloth around herself. Someone had wrapped her up in a blue cloak to use as a blanket but this left her puzzled, and wondering who had done this thoughtful deed? An older looking gentleman with a kind smile had come up to where she was now standing, clearing his throat. “May I have my cloak back, miss?” Adorned in silver-looking plate with different pouches at his belt and a hefty sword at one side, he was blonde but gray at the temples along with some of his stubble. He looked like a capable soldier, or maybe a knight.

This garnered a quite expressive “oh” before Amelia gave that cloak back to the man along with a shrug. “Sorrey’, did’na realize…Thank ya’ fer’ lendin’ it to me.” The red-head gave him a smile in return while he echoed her shrug, and placed his cloak back on where it had been missing.

“You’re very welcome. I was watching you last night and I believe I understand what happened. I would have helped in some way but I didn’t want to hinder. I’m not really the healing sort.” He tried to be honest and she could see that. Her smile turned off softer towards him, having to look up slightly since he was tall. “Tha’s aight, thank ya’ fer’ the thought.”

He had returned her smile with his that didn’t seem to leave while looking at her, but there was a nod of acknowledgement too. “Is there anything I could possibly do for you though, miss…?” Amy realized he was fishing for a name, having her clear her throat. “Marlow; Amelia Marlow.”

“Pretty,” is all he could think to say in the moment which had Amelia begin to blush before he continued. “Master Sergeant Whitehall of the 7th Legion. At your service.” The blonde man bowed his head temporarily, at least until Amy said something with a raised brow.

“Ya’ got a first name, right? Ah’ hope.” This sent the pair chuckling despite the situation that was going on right there around them, and he seemed embarrassed. “Um…yes…Glenn.”

(Reference for Glenn below)

[greywoodrpg]

𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕒 𝕝𝕒𝕣𝕠𝕔𝕙𝕖

she was born thirty-five years ago, is a werewolf, lives in mystic grove as a lawyer, and is in the pack. she looks an awful lot like tessa thompson.

"You're on your own, kid Yeah, you can face this You're on your own, kid You always have been."

tw: attack, injury

All Amelia knew growing up was the foster care system.  Her placements weren't terrible, she just always felt like she never belonged.  Amelia always longed for the magical movie moment where she would be united with her perfect family, long ago giving up the dream that any bio family would ever come forward, but every house she was sent to never lasted long and she never felt like she was part of a family of her own. So at a young age she just accepted what her life was and kept her head down as much as possible. As soon as Amelia turned 18 she fell in love with practically the first person to give her attention.  It wasn't a terrible relationship but it sure was a whirlwind.  They both fell in love fast and were quick to get married.  Amelia was hopeful and thought she had finally had the family she so long dreamed of.  But with every fight that seemed to be getting more and more heated and more frequent, it became evident to her that this was not the family she needed. Eventually the two ended in divorce, knowing that they were better off apart. Soon afterwards, Amelia enrolled herself in college and made the most of it.  During college she was attacked one night by a wolf when she took a shortcut through the woods to get back to her apartment.  She woke up with a bite on her arm in the middle of the woods with little more information than that.  In the aftermath of that night she started to become hostile and quick to snap at everyone around her, which was just not her.  It wasn’t until the next full moon that Amelia found herself back in the woods where the incident happened - this time transforming into something she couldn’t explain. Needless to say she was absolutely terrified and felt more alone than she had ever felt in her life.  She finished her schooling and also eventually got the help she needed as a werewolf.  Amelia eventually decided she wanted to go to law school and shortly after that found herself pregnant.  Not wanting her child to bounce around like she did, Amelia made her way to Greywood and never looked back.  She has a life here and her son James is now six years old, maybe she found her perfect family after all.

“what power did she attain when settling in greywood?”

HEIGHTENED EMPATHY - Amelia had always been good at knowing what other people were feeling but it only grew when she arrived in Greywood.  Now she just needs to take one look at someone to know what they're really feeling.

penned by... maggie

[babyboibucky]

All Yours

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky threatens Zemo right in front of you.

Word Count: 1,113

Warnings: TFATWS spoilers!!! Smut!!! Choking, fingering hehe 18+ only!!!

A/N: That scene really got to me 🥵

MAIN MASTERLIST

You thought that he failed to notice your reaction when he threatened Zemo, but oh, he did.

Bucky may have been focused in Zemo then but he heard the tiny gasp that got caught in your throat, your eyes hazy as you stared at his vibranium hand wrapped around Zemo’s throat. He could smell you too, being super soldier and all, the scent of your arousal quickly invading his senses as he went back to his seat next to you.

Although you and Bucky have established your relationship as fuck buddies, you haven’t gone as far as revealing some of your kinks to him. He’d been rough with you a couple of times, with him grabbing a fistful of your hair as he fucked you from behind. Or how he’d shove his cock down your throat whenever he desperately needed some release.

You wanted more though, needed Bucky to fuck you harder, faster and rougher. Hell, you wanted it to hurt, wanted him to mark you and just use you however he wants.

And needless to say, you were desperate to feel his vibranium hand on you, in you and around your throat.

“Excuse me for a sec.” you softly said, pushing yourself up from your seat and passing by wary eyes as you headed to the bathroom.

Wet was an understatement, the condition of your panties were far from being just wet. You were soaked, closed to dripping and that was merely from Bucky getting all moody and grumpy. There was nothing even sexual about it and yet here you were, body buzzing and core throbbing from desire.

You needed releases and you needed it now.

Halfway through unzipping your pants, the bathroom door slid open, startling you. A cold, hard hand found a home around your mouth preventing you from screaming. Bucky pushed you back until his large body completely invaded the space inside.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice.” He said, letting go of your face before sliding the door shut and locking it in place.

Your chest heaved as you locked eyes with Bucky, his pupils dilating as his gaze dropped down to your pants. He chuckled, licking his lips before a hand played with your zipper.

“That turned you on, huh?” His voice was soft yet rough and it was making your core throb even worse.

“What, cat caught your tongue now?” He teased, lifting his vibranium arm to swipe a thumb along your bottom lip, tugging it down.

You whined and you hated how pathetic you sounded. But right now, you couldn’t care less because you badly needed Bucky to fuck you.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart and I might just give it to you.”

Without missing a beat, you responded.

“I want you to use your hand on me.”

Bucky was quick to wrap his metal hand around your throat, pressing you against the wall as he slipped his other hand into your pants. You choked on your moan when you felt his fingers stroke your folds through your underwear.

“Fuck, you’re so soaked for me.” Bucky sighed, his half-lidded eyes focused on your expression as he slowly began to rub your clit.

Bucky tightened his grip around your throat, just enough to make you see stars as he sped up his fingers. His eyes remained on you the whole time, his lips parted as he grunted when he finally pushed your panties aside to slip his fingers in.

“Oh god, Bucky...” you panted, eyes slamming shut from the pleasure.

Bucky tutted and gripped your throat harder, “Need to keep your eyes open, baby. Wanna see you when you give it to me.” He said, leaning in to take your bottom lip in between his teeth.

A small whimper escaped your lips when Bucky curled his fingers inside you, hitting that one spot that made your eyes flutter as you tried to keep them open. Bucky’s unfaltering gaze on you and how he watched you with dark eyes like a predator was quickly building up the coil in your abdomen.

“Your cunt’s so fucking wet, can you hear it?” Bucky groaned into your ear, sucking your lobe as his fingers fucked you faster.

“You close, baby?”

You nodded your head as much as you could even with Bucky’s hand around your throat. He kissed you sloppily, his fingers speeding up until you could no longer control your whimpers.

“Need you to be quiet for me, can you do that for me?” Bucky asked, tone condescending.

“Y-yes...” you choked out, biting your lip so hard it almost bled.

Bucky smirked and pressed a soft kiss on your lips before pulling his fingers out, only to rub hard and quick circles on your clit. Your pussy clenched around nothing when you reached your high, the coil in your stomach exploding so hard that you almost moaned out loud.

The moan died on your tongue and turned into a gasp when Bucky’s hand tightened its grip around your throat, the plates of his vibranium arm whirring as he pressed you against the wall to keep you from making any sound.

You tried to keep your eyes open but the lack of oxygen was making you feel light-headed. Just as when you felt like you were going to pass out, Bucky let go of your throat allowing you to gasp for air and wrapped his arm around your waist to steady you.

Pressing your forehead against Bucky’s chest, you took some time to catch your breath. Your lungs felt like they were on fire but you loved it. You loved how Bucky was in total control of you the entire time, loved how he stared into your eyes the whole time his fingers fucked your pussy like never before.

“You good?” Bucky whispered, his tone soft and tender, laced with concern.

You nodded before looking up at Bucky with a foolish grin, “Never better.”

Bucky shook his head as he chuckled, lifting your chin up to inspect your neck. “Gonna leave a mark for sure.” He said, gently caressing the skin around your throat.

You could see the look in his eyes, “Hey, I wanted this. I want it to leave a mark.” You reassured, not wanting for Bucky to think that he hurt you.

“Why?”

“Because I’m yours, Bucky. And you can do whatever you want to do with me. I want you to.”

Bucky let out a growl at your words and was about to catch your lips in a bruising kiss when a series of loud knocks interrupted, followed by Sam’s annoyed voice.

“Are you both done in there or do I need to hold it in?”

-

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar  @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @i’m-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @prettyintopeerpressure @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada @lizette50 @thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2 @unmagically @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess @enlyume @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp @lyoongx @just-deka @nobody-will @jaziona92 @elisebuitron @dpaccione @suvikamahes98blr @buckybarneshairpullingkink @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes @iloveangstposts @weenersoldierr​ @asemistablehundredyearoldman​ @reidbuck​ @lizzarooni​ @girlfriday007​ @5-seconds-of-mendes​ @whoth3hellisbucky​ @bonkywobble​ @lost-in-the-stars03 @its-yasbxtch @twinerd14 @bluehour-553

Sign up on my tag list here - https://forms.gle/b5haFXewSKqnXxxh7

[iamwhoami]

Sister Oh Sister (Grey’s Anatomy)

Grey’s Anatomy

   When Amelia has brain surgery to remove her tumor, her sister Y/N is with her the entire time, worried that she might lose her.

Warnings: None

Requested = Yes

Haha...finally got one done...

It’s been a while since I’ve seen the episode where Amelia gets her tumor removed so the facts might be a lil iffy.

You were the first person she told.

   When she paged you to the scan room, you definitely were not expecting this bombshell.

“Oh...Amelia...” You whispered and immediately pulled her into your arms.

“It’s okay...” Amelia said, almost as if she was trying to convince herself to, “It’s benign.”

   You choked back a sob at those words. It was a relief of course, but it was a tumor nonetheless and would definitely have to be removed.

That meant brain surgery.

   Over the next while, you were constantly at Amelia’s side. Yes, it was partially because you knew you had to be there for her, but in a way, you were also there because you were scared.

Scared that history might repeat itself.

   The few months before Derek died, you hadn’t really been around him much. Now looking back, you regretted not visiting him, Meredith and the kids more. You regretted now inviting them over for dinner more. 

You didn’t want to have those regrets with Amelia.

   Despite all your fear and worries though, you did you best to hide it from Amelia, putting a brave face on instead.

   The day of Amelia’s surgery, you had worked yourself up so much that you spent the first half hour of the day throwing up in the bathroom at home.

   You knew you were worried about her, but there really weren’t any words that would truly describe just how great that worry was.

   Pulling yourself together though, you forced yourself to eat some breakfast before heading to the hospital. It was a surprise that Meredith had even managed to get you to go home since you spent all your time at the hospital since Amelia was checked in.

   Parking your car, you killed the engine and was going to walk in when you realized that you couldn’t. You were so overwhelmed by everything that you just needed one moment by yourself so that you could break down without Amelia knowing.

   You didn’t realize how much you had been holding back until you finally let it all out. You were sobbing so hard, you didn’t even hear the first few knocks on the window to your car.

   Sniffling, you wiped your nose with the side of your hand before taking a deep breath and getting out of the car.

“You good?”

   You looked over at Meredith, debating what you should tell her. Should you lie even though you knew she would see right through it?

“I will be,” You whispered, “But that doesn’t really matter right now.”

“Of course it matters,” Meredith responded, “Y/N, you’ve been driving yourself insane with worry about Amelia and I know you have your reasons but how would Amelia react if she knew what you’ve been doing?”

“What am I doing?” You asked numbly as you and Meredith headed into the building.

   Meredith grabbed your arm, making you stop, “You’re not taking care of yourself Y/N. Your running yourself to the ground, you’re not eating, you’re not sleeping.”

“It’s going to be okay,” You whispered back, biting your lip as you felt the tears threaten to spill from your eyes again, “Right? She’s going to be okay.”

“Oh...Y/N,” Meredith reached out her other arm and pulled you into a hug.

   You choked back a sob, “She has to be okay Mer because I swear I can’t do it again. Not after Derek...”

“I know,” Meredith mumbled and put her hand on the back of your head, rubbing it up and down.

   With that, you nodded and Meredith looped her arm through yours before making your way up to Amelia’s room.

“I’ll go through the a sub frontal craniotomy, real clean, small incision,” Tom was saying as you and Meredith arrived.

   Amelia saw you and gave you a weak smile which you just barely were able to return.

“So I imagine you have questions,” Tom looked at everyone expectantly.

“Yeah uh...how many of these have you done?” Dr. Bailey pointed her finger at Tom.

   Tom shook his head slightly, “So...so many.”

“What’s the recovery time?” Richard added.

   You tried to listen. You tried to pay attention, stay engaged, but your mind just kept wandering, going through each of the possible scenarios. 

“See you at the afterparty,” Tom was saying when you zoned back in and without another word he walked out of the room.

“He’s arrogant and a showboat so DeLuca, make sure you ask him questions during surgery,” Amelia ordered, “Make him show off.”

   DeLuca nodded in response and you knew that he would do that.

“And if I make it through,” Amelia started to say but Owen cut her off.

“When you make it through,” He corrected.

“Early ambulation protocol,” DeLuca finished and Amelia thanked him.

   Amelia then turned to Meredith, “Meredith...if I die.”

“You are not going to die,” Meredith said.

“But if I do,” Amelia went on, “You call my mom...I’m sorry but she likes you.”

“True that,” You snorted, knowing fully that Amelia was very correct on that.

   Amelia then looked over at Maggie, “And you...take my room! I totally scammed you on that.”

“Don’t be ridiculous-” Maggie started to say but Alex cut in.

“She’s right on that, it’s way better,” Alex mumbled to Maggie.

“If I’m gorked after this,” Amelia took a deep breath, “Unplug me. Don’t think about it. Go on with your lives. If I need unplugging, April has been named my power of attorney.”

   At those words, everyone, including you, slowly looked over at April who had a very awkward expression on her face.

“What...was I supposed to say no?”

“I uh...I don’t know what’s me and what’s tumor talking,” Amelia looked you straight in the eyes before continuing, “But uh...in this moment, I love you people tremendously.”

~~~

   You were sitting in between Meredith and Maggie, watching through the gallery at the scene below. Amelia standing...leading the superhero pose.

   You watched as Amelia got onto the table and as she was preparing to lay down, she gave you a wave.

   Forcing a smile, you waved back.

~~~

   The entire time Amelia was in surgery, it felt like you were underwater. Not drowning, but just underwater. The sounds around you were fuzzy and even though you could see perfectly well, your eyes stung as if salt was irritating them. You were subconsciously holding your breath too, breathing only when Maggie or Meredith reminded you to.

   When the surgery ended, you were slightly relieved but now you were tasked with one of the hardest things.

Waiting.

   You refused to leave Amelia’s side, even though she was still unconscious. Meredith and Maggie tried to get you to leave for food, but you brushed them off, only leaving to use the bathroom.

   You talked a lot to Amelia while you waited for her to wake up, knowing that she couldn’t hear you. It brought you some sort of comfort though, speaking to her as if she were awake.

“I know you’d tell me that I’m being stupid,” You laughed, holding Amelia’s hand in yours, watching her face carefully for any signs that she might be waking up.

   You smiled painfully, “But I can’t leave you Amy...not after what happened with Derek. You can’t leave me...because I really need you Amy. Even though I’ve been annoying and you’ve been a pain in my ass at times, I love you so much more than I’ve ever told you.”

   You reached your hand out and gently stroked your sister’s face.

“Please Amy...” You swallowed hard, “Please don’t leave me.”

~~~

   Needless to say, when Amy woke up speaking French, you thought you were going to have a heart attack. When Meredith explained what was going on though...you quickly understood and calmed down.

A little bit.

   It was hard watching Amelia be in pain while she recovered from brain surgery but you always put on a brave face and made sure to be there beside her every step of the way.

   It took a while, and since you were with Amelia every day it was hard to see the tiny steps of progress, but you did. It felt like forever, but you knew it wasn’t, before Amelia was finally allowed to be discharged and head home.

“I’ll put the bags in the car first,” Owen said and looked over at you

   You smiled and Owen gave you a knowing look before walking out of the room, a few bags in his hand.

“You look like crap,” Amelia joked as you rubbed your bloodshot eyes.

“Right back at you,” You mumbled back but Amelia could tell it didn’t have your usual spunk.

“What’s wrong?” Amelia asked, clearly concerned.

   You shook your head, “It’s stupid...”

“Oh come on Y/N,” Amelia said, “It’s me, you know you can tell me anything.”

   You sighed and shook your head again but you didn’t stay quiet this time and told Amelia what was bothering you.

“It’s just...especially after Derek,” You felt yourself start to choke up and quickly swallowed hard, “I couldn’t lose you. I was so scared I would lose you too Amelia.”

   Amelia’s gaze softened as she realized what you meant.

“Come here...” Amelia whispered and opened her arms so that you could lean into her embrace, “It’s okay...I’m okay now. You’re not going to lose me.”

   You nodded and closed your eyes, “I know...but it was just hard...”

“I don’t even know how hard that must have been for you,” Amelia said and you felt her sigh, “But you know...you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

   You couldn’t help but shake your head at your sister’s attempts of trying to make a joke.

“I know, you’re like a barnacle,” You went along with Amelia’s attempts.

“Seriously though,” Amelia whispered, “I’m always going to be with you no matter what.”

   You nodded, “I know...I love you Amelia.”

“Love you too.”

[heroesxdemons]

The Biggest Fan

@asagikurosugi​

It was another peaceful stroll down Toad Town, Amelia happily holding hands with her beautiful wife Asagi without a care in the world...it also helped her ignore some of the glares she got from some passing toads. Yeaaaah a few were still a bit miffed about half of Toad Town getting launched into the stratosphere. Sure it got repaired and looked even better than before...buuuut a grudge is a grudge. 

Amelia glanced at her phone, mindlessly scrolling through it until she found something of interest. 

“Ooooh Asagi! DJ Toad’s music store just got the latest shipment of the hottest new albums! We gotta go take a look before they’re sold out!” And without a moment to spare, Amelia began to run ahead. Just as she was about to turn the corner, however, she bumped into someone! Knocked flat on her butt, Amelia rubbed her head, she was about to apologize...until something landed on her lap. It looked like....A HEAD! Needless to say, Amelia screamed!

“Omigosh! A-Asagi I just killed someone by accident! Q-Quick we gotta hide the body!”

“U-um....e-excuse me miss I’m n-not dead. P-Please c-calm down and-” The ‘head’ spoke up, trying to calm Amelia down. It didn’t work.

“Aaagh I hear the ghost of the poor innocent girl haunting me already! Is that a new record or is it just the guilt weighing heavily on my soul!?”

“Y-You’re n-not listening t-to me...a-are you?” Symphony sighed, as her headless body was trying to stand up.

[paleotoons]

God I just feel bad for Simon honestly. He never got the chance to get over his issues and try to better himself. He was too focused on not trying to appear weak and cover his pain by trying to be ruthless instead and it ended up costing him literally everything.

Needless to say I was not expecting this ending to Book 3 at all. I wonder how Grace will break it to Samantha what happened to Simon and if Book 4 will possibly follow Amelia and Hazel. Just. Holy hell Owen, bravo to you and your team. I could never have guessed how this season would have gone and you kept surprising me left and right. I hope more than anything else everyone watches this on HBO Max so we can show the heads that we want more of this brilliant series.