#her roughly at all but i still feel bad and a parent was there too and comforted her for me even tho i didnt rly ask her to so i kind of

[aurorawhisperz]

that’s what you get (e.l.)

contains: swearing, suggestive content, fluff, richie exists..

neighbor!ethan landry x fem!reader

a/n: THANK YOU GUYS FOR THE TROPES NOW IM GONNA BE POSTING MORE BY JULY 🦅🦅🦅 ethan is a bit of a meanie in this but he’s still little old him (maybe just gf ethan persona)

some tropes i used are: enemies to lovers, girl next door, forced proximity and best friend’s brother 🙏 (yk allat shit LOL) THERE WILL BE A PART 2!!

•

You knew for a fact that Quinn Bailey was your best friend—what made it even better is that you two could communicate through your windows, but one thing you also knew is that you didn’t like her brother, Ethan, he was your age, Quinn was older than you both. He would sometimes cut into your ‘girl talk’ since his room was right beside hers.

“Dammit!” You said as you banged on the door roughly. Your parents weren’t going to be home until tomorrow morning for something important, and you had left your keys inside the house. To make it even worse, it was raining.

A familiar voice startles you and has you snap out of all that stress. “(Name)?” says Quinn, covering herself with a blanket. I think it’s pretty obvious what she was doing just now.

“Quinn!” You called from below, your eyes widen at the sight of her covered body by the window. “I’ll..get back to you! Damn..” You hear her say something to an impatient guy, something about helping a friend—obviously that friend was you.

A few minutes later, she runs out in pink slip-ons and a purple nightgown with an umbrella. “Need help? Holy shit, you are soaking.” Quinn’s eyes widen at the sight of your outfit ruined. “And cold.” You add, then slamming your fist on the wall, “I left my keys inside.”

“Boo, it’s not that hard to knock on our door.” She chuckles, then you roll your eyes, “And deal with your brothers while you get to bang someone tonight? Yeah, right.” Her eyes then dart and she forces a smile out. “Ethan’s not that bad.”

You frown, “Yes, he is.”

“Baby, you’ll have to deal with it. I can’t stand Richie anymore.” Quinn complains, then she tugs on the sleeve of your wet cardigan to let you inside her ‘humble home.’

Grateful to be out of the pouring rain, the familiar smell of your best friend’s home fills your nostrils.

You both plop down on the plush couch, and she hands you a towel for your wet hair. Quinn then shoots you a playful smile, “Aside from our ‘interventions’, what did baby bro do this time to get on your nerves?” She asks.

“That’s about it, he wants to be the center of attention even when he’s not wanted.” You let out a sigh.

Quinn’s lips curl into a smirk, and she gently places a hand on your shoulder. “He's just trying to be a part of our bond, in his own misguided way. Ethan’s.. different, he’s fucking awkward and stuff but not around us because he’s more comfortable.”

You sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and understanding. “I guess I can try to tolerate him a bit more. For you. But he better stay out of our serious conversations.”

Quinn laughs and pulls you into a hug, the warmth of her embrace enveloping you. “That's the spirit! And don't worry, I'll make sure that jackass knows when to give us our space. Besties have their ways, you know.”

“What ways?” says Richie, holding an ‘I LOVE STAB’ coffee mug. You also know for a fact that you hated him more than Ethan—being the movie geek he is, not that it’s bad, it’s how he takes it too far and even gets touchy with others. “Ways to die.” You mutter, staring deep into his damned soul.

He nods nervously and heads back into his room. “Stay in there!” yells Quinn.

Once the silence has dissolved into thin air, she blurts out, “How about that tension?” Your eyes widen, eyebrows pinched together and lips parted in protest. “Sexual tension?” You repeat, your face going pale.

She nods cheekily, “SEXUAL?” You shriek. Quinn laughs at your reaction.

You then hear Quinn’s name from upstairs, “Ooh, priorities.” She avoids your gaze and then drags you back upstairs, “Q, don’t make me a third wheel tonight.” You roll your eyes as her grip on your arm tightens.

•

“What the hell?” is the first thing that comes out of Ethan’s mouth when Quinn pushes you into her room. “Quinn, and you. Get out!” He narrows his eyes. “E, I’ve got a guy waiting for me to go back.”

“Then tell him to fucking leave?” He shakes his head. “You’re a degenerate, you know that?” Ethan shoots back.

“Well, I’m not a virgin, so you don’t get a say in that.” Quinn lets out a corny smile and shakes her head, you can see Ethan gritting his teeth. “Do you want her to deal with Richie then?” She tilts her head slyly.

He sighs, “No.” she raises her hands and continues “That’s what I thought, love you both!” Quinn exits just as Ethan is about to flip her off.

You sit down on Ethan’s beanbag and all he does is stare.

He scoffs, “What brings you into my lair?” He crunches on a cheeto. You obviously refused to let his taunts get under your skin, “Spare me.” You retorted.

Ethan smirks, enjoying your discomfort, “Mighty (name) finds herself in a bit of a predicament, huh?”

“Unlike you, Eth, I don't have the luxury of living in a perfect little bubble where everything goes my way. So excuse me if I need a moment to think.” You tightly clench your fists.

“Can’t we just tolerate each other’s existence only for a little bit?” You complain, Ethan’s mouth turns into an “O” shape and he sarcastically remarks “Who can go the longest without being an asshole? You or me?”

“Me.” You pridefully chuckle. “This starts now.” He declares.

You have never heard silence quite this loud. The only thing you and Ethan have been doing for the past few minutes is stare at each other. Eye language perhaps?

His lips part at the sight of you.

While you did hate Ethan, there was always something telling you otherwise—you’d find yourself looking through his window, and if you timed it right, even got to see his muscles whenever he changes. (And it was hard to keep a straight face when you’d see it during your conversations with Quinn.)

What snaps you out of that thought is Ethan’s scoff, he then turns his head—then his gaze back to you. “It’s so dumb.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows pinch together in the middle, and your lips purse. “You know how Quinn gets to show off her man all she wants and how she’s so freaked out over everything they do—even when she’s..done those things so many times.” says Ethan.

Ethan then shrugs, “It’s just stupid.”, your eyebrows raise in agreement as you bit the inside of your cheek.

While you did hate Ethan, part of you..or most of you was telling you that he wanted you to give in—but give in to what? Being the muscular little thing he is, it’s hard to maintain your sanity when you see him without a shirt through his window. Practically drooling, but of course, you couldn’t let Quinn know.

Mainly because she’s so ‘Quinn’, she would probably tell him.

Behind the thin walls of her bedroom were sounds quite pathetic, you two burst into laughter up to the point where you both were crying.

You put a hand over your heart and leaned back on the beanbag.

“Are they THAT loud?” You ask, “Very.” He chuckles in response, this might be the only conversation you two could call a genuine conversation.

“This is really pervy of us to do, but we don’t have a choice, not like we can tune them out.” says Ethan as he grabs a Marvel plush and sits next to the beanbag you were on.

“It’s not like me and Quinn could tune you out.” You joke. A genuine smile tugs on the corners of Ethan’s plush lips. “Gee, you’re really being nice right now.” Your words laced with sarcasm tumbled out.

You had spent your entire life making sure Ethan would never fall for you, nor would you fall for him—and you failed.

It was like there’s nobody in the world right now but you two.

“Well, it’s part of the game right?” Ethan said, his eyes, half-lidded, looking up at you. “It doesn’t seem that much of a game anymore.” You kept your eyes on him, and he kept his on you as well.

Silence. Just silence. That was how much reality hurt.

This is also the closest you have ever been. There is only inches between you both, and you are close to giving in. Breaking the silence, “Maybe I should leave now, I’m not cold-” Ethan then stops your lips with a kiss. He pulls away and you are left with the sight of him hovering over you on the beanbag.

You kissed him back even longer, yes, you were kissing your enemy. It felt so wrong—but at the same time, it felt so right.

The smell of lemon zest surrounded you, along with his intoxicating aura. The thought then entered your head.

Hey, what if I just pulled away and ran like crazy?

Just as you’re about to pull away, he insists against your mouth, “Stay.” Ethan said, you could tell from how hot his lips were—he felt the same way. Out of control.

Ethan then turns you both over so that he was on the beanbag and you were straddling him.

His hands were sneaky enough to slide under the back of your shirt. “Just calming your nerves.” says Ethan as he rubs soothing circles on your lower back.

It was his shuddering breath that made you think this was a dream. Being woken up was the last thing you needed. Ethan whines into the kiss, and you smiled against him.

You then pull away with a small gasp escaping your lips when his hips jolt up into yours, your fist slammed against the wall as he did it twice.

“Shit, shit, I’m sorry. It’s a reflex.” Ethan stammers as he sits up, moving you as well. “No, no! I just got startled. It’s fine, really.”

He sucks in a breath through his teeth then his hands grip the sides of your face. Ethan is kissing you once again.

Just kissing, this is the closest you’ll ever get. Maybe you’ll forget about it the next day, or maybe one day—you’ll look back and regret it. The kiss being hot and slow, and his arms wrapping around you.

Ethan slides his arms around you and pulls you closer.

The moment of bliss is then interrupted when Quinn knocks on the door. “Hello? Just making sure nobody’s dead yet.”

“Shit.” You whisper, and you get off Ethan and push him back to his bed.

She enters the room and looks around. “I’m surprised this hasn’t turned into a warzone yet.”

“Uh-huh.” Ethan nods, but he’s all shades of pink. “Why are you so red right now?” Quinn tilts her head and squints. His hands move to his face and he tries to think of an excuse.

“It’s hot in here, isn’t it?”

“Have some decency, we heard you in there.” You grumbled, she then chuckles and leans against the doorframe. “Sorry, if I..” Quinn twirls her red hair with her finger. “Cockblocked you.” She lets out an awful grin then locks the door—closing it.

Now you were definitely in some situation, I guess she’s getting suspicious now. There was nothing in the room aside from the kissing sounds..what else? Ethan’s whining, and your fist hitting the wall..

Wait a minute.

You were completely fucked. Do you and Ethan just forget about it now? Or do you have to keep up the strategy? You weren’t the type to forget such a heated kiss, but what about him?

[loveandmurders]

Hey I love your writing I know your busy at the moment but do you think you could do something like Missing piece but with Sinclair Daughter!reader where reader got taken by csp or something and they come back with their adopted family.

Hello love! Thank you so much for this request <3 I had so much fun writing for this that I did a little series in which you are Bo's daughter and you got taken away by your mother and then by social care.

I really hope that you'll enjoy it! <3

THE SUN OF AMBROSE (Part I)

Warnings: ANGST and more ANGST, no proof reading, mute!reader, mentions of suicide, death and violence, quick mentions of domestic violence, difficult childhood, sadness, despair and anger

“Are you alright, hon? What are you thinking about?” your adoptive mother asked you.

You were sitting on the porch, looking into the distance. She sat next to you as you shrugged.

“Are you not cold?” she asked you again and you shook your head. She kissed the top of your head before getting up.

“Don’t stay here for too long, ok? You need to get some rest too” she hummed and you nodded. You waited for her to come back inside before laying down on the ground, looking at the sky. 

You were silent now, almost completely mute.

You hadn’t always been like that though. When you were a young child, you were chatting around all the time. You were babbling to Lester about the nicest insects you saw or about what art project you started with Vincent. You were also happily asking questions to your dad about absolutely anything because you were certain that Bo had to know everything. You were telling all your little secrets to Vincent because you trusted him with them and your feelings. You were laughing around with your mother as she was cracking jokes for you. You were happy, you were solar. You were “the sun of Ambrose” as your uncles and father would call you. 

The Sinclairs couldn’t imagine a day without you; your presence was making everything so much better. You were too young to realise what your family was doing with the tourists, but you knew it was bad because your parents didn't want you out of the house when people were coming in. And Vincent needed to authorise you into the basement before you could come down. Your father always told you he would explain everything to you when you were a big girl, and you accepted this answer because Bo never lied to you before. You were aware that everytime people were coming in, there were new sculptures in the House of Wax though. 

But you were happy and loved; and when you are a child, it really all that matters. You couldn’t wait to be a grown up so you could help your dad with his business, but other than that, everything was perfect for you.

Until it wasn’t anymore.

Things had changed so much. You didn’t live in Ambrose and you often wondered if the House of Wax was still doing good, if your family was still doing good. You wondered if they missed you like you missed them. A hole inside your chest was constantly making you feel sick, but you couldn't do anything about it. No one could do anything about it.

You missed the nickname of “the sun of Ambrose” quite a lot too. The little necklace around your neck, in the form of a sun, was there to give you some comfort.This jewel has been a gift from your parents when you were 7 years old. And you have never removed it since then. 

And you wouldn’t now because it was the only thing left from your previous life. You weren’t even called a Sinclair anymore. It was as if everything had been a dream and you woke up pretty roughly when you were 9.

You didn’t truly remember everything that happened. You just knew that everything was going alright, you were safe in your family’s arms, you were loved, you were happy. And the next morning, your mother was gently waking you up.

She told you she needed you to come with her, that she had planned a secret birthday gift for your father and you were part of it. Didn’t your father call you “the best thing life ever gifted him” after all?

However, you needed to stay quiet, so no one would notice you were both leaving the house, so early on this Sunday morning. You obeyed your mother, no matter how hard it was for you to stay fully quiet, but you didn’t want to ruin the surprise for Bo. You were softly giggling behind your hand, innocent of what was truly happening. You left the house with your mother. She settled you in her car and drove away. You were getting curious as you were going away from Ambrose. You used to leave Ambrose only to go to Lester’s place or to go look for road kills with your uncle, but you never went so far away. Your mother wasn’t answering your questions either. You started to get upset with her and you wanted to come back home. It wasn’t fun anymore. 

At some point, she stopped in front of a big building and asked you to stay there. You obeyed again because you used to trust the adults in your life, fidgeting with your fingers and the rime of your cute little dress. You saw your mother entering the building and you felt uneasy. You weren’t too sure what kind of gift it was, but you wanted to come home very quickly. You hoped your mother let at least know Vincent or Lester where you were. A little voice inside your head told you that they couldn’t know, otherwise you wouldn’t be there. But you left the house very easily, so they had to know, right? Or maybe Vincent and Bo were too exhausted from the hunt of the day before, and Lester wasn’t home, to notice you were gone with your mother.

You jumped when you heard a gunshot and screams coming from inside the building. You knew those sounds quite well, but it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like usual. You weren’t at home, you weren’t safe. You looked for your mother’s phone but you didn’t find it. You started to worry so you got out of the car and started to look around. You didn’t know what to do. Fear took possession of you when people you didn’t know ran to you. You were so terrified you didn’t fly away. You wouldn’t have been able to go far anyway, not under the burning sun, not with your cute little shoes and cute little dress. You silently prayed for your father to come get you soon.

You didn’t remember much of this moment, all happened in a quick blurr. You just remembered how terrifying it was that there were so many people checking on you and asking you questions. You told them you wanted your dad and your mom and you started to cry. No one listened to you and your dad never came to get you.

It was the last time you ever used your voice, after that, you grew mute. You cried even more when they took you away from the car and brought you inside the building. You were in an unfamiliar world, full of people who had no love for you. You were alone and powerless in the middle of adults who weren’t always nice to you. You were living your worst nightmare, without any hope to wake up anytime soon.

You spent days, weeks, months being asked questions about yourself, your family and where you came from. From those interrogations, you understood quite a few things:

No one knew anything about you, not even that you existed. You were like a ghost. Y/N Sinclair wasn’t registered anywhere. Actually, officially, there were no more Sinclair in the region. They disappeared like Ambrose disappeared from the maps. But why would the world need to know about you, when Ambrose was already your world?

Your mother went into the social care centre, told them she brought with her her child who was in danger, because your father was a killer. She told them the Sinclairs were abusive and violent people. Then she killed herself with a gun she stole from Bo. You didn’t know if it was true that the Sinclairs were abusive to her, because you never saw them hurting her. Maybe they hid this dark side of them from you because you were their heir. You didn’t believe your father was a killer though, how could he be when he loved you so much?

Your father always told you to keep Ambrose a secret, no matter what. He knew you would go to college or to university at some point - even if he wasn’t too happy with the idea - so he needed to make sure you wouldn’t say anything. It was the only promise you ever made to him, so when people started to ask you questions, you knew you had to stay silent or you would put your family in danger. And you didn’t want anything to happen to your father and uncles, otherwise how could they come get you and save you from this hell?

You had never cried so much in your life before, and now it was the only thing making people stop asking you questions. They did physical tests to make sure your mutism was psychological, which it was. They truly believed you were so shocked by what happened in your life, that you couldn’t talk anymore. However, the fact you already knew ASL - thanks to Vincent - made them wonder. The fact you refused to say anything about the Sinclairs too. You were a mystery no one seemed able to solve, a mystery that didn’t want to be solved actually.

You were relieved when you realised that even the police couldn’t find Ambrose, and hence your family. You didn’t understand when the police told you you had been sequestrated by your father. Yes, you used to be homeschooled, but you were happy. And no one ever hurt you before. And your father always told you that the rest of the world was a threat and dangerous for you. You believed him and now you could see how right he was.

You didn’t even cry for your mother’s death, because she betrayed you, your father and the family. And your father told you that family was everything and that you were everything to him. You were proud to be his daughter, his heir, his legacy. 

Now, you were nothing.

You didn’t know if the Sinclairs knew what happened. But after several months, you guessed they had no idea where you were or they would have already got you back home. You would never know how Bo reacted when he saw his daughter gone, how he broke everything in Ambrose out of pure pain, how Vincent grew even more merciless to tourists, how Lester never asked himself anymore if it was alright to kill people. Killers without their sun only grew even more destructive.

Bo never stopped bringing gifts for you in your bedroom; a bedroom he never touched since your departure. Everything was like you left it, because he was still hoping all of this was a nightmare. Or maybe he was dead and this was hell and his personal punishment. If only he was truly dead, he thought more than once.

At some point, people stopped asking you questions, but you stayed silent, as if something died inside of you, or at least stayed in Ambrose. Talking was betraying your family, and you couldn’t be a traitor like your mother.

Life has been happy and easy. Now things were different. 

You moved from place to place, from family to family. You were lucky enough to never be abused, but there was no joy and no laughter in your life anymore. Life was rough and children growing up around you, even rougher. The worst were the adults of course, because they thought they knew everything about you when they knew nothing. They thought you were a traumatised little girl, they thought you were a lost darling whose mother found social care before killing herself in front of everyone. They thought you were broken.

Two years later, you finally got adopted. 

Everyone said you were so lucky to get adopted away so quickly and that you should be grateful that a couple decided to take you with them. You weren’t sure you were happy about it or not. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about your real parents. 

You never stopped wondering why your mother did what she did. If she wanted to kill herself, she could have done it without bringing you down with her. She might have believed she was saving you from hell. But “hell” was your home, and the only place you wanted to be. Hell was soft to you.

You wondered if your father found a new wife and got a new baby. You knew how important it was for him and your uncle Vincent to have an “heir”. Now you were gone, so they needed to replace you. You couldn’t replace them.

What if they never looked for you and that was why you never saw them again? What if you weren’t that important to them? What if the police found them? What if they got killed because of some tourists?

Those questions were driving you crazy at night and there was nothing you could do about them.

Your adoptive family was good to you though. 

Not good like the Sinclairs used to be, of course, but they tried their best with you. They made sure you were doing good at school and that no one bullied you because of your past, or because you were mute. They learnt ASL for you. 

But they didn’t call you their sun and they didn’t talk about legacy. They didn’t praise you everyday, they didn’t have a limitless amount of patience with you, they didn’t allow you to be fully yourself.

They even forced you to stay calm. 

Sometimes, you could get angry, mad, or violent. Bo would have allowed you to get crazy so you would feel better. But in a normal world, you had to see a doctor and to take meds. But you didn’t want that, you didn’t want to believe you were simply so truly broken, you needed meds to be normal. You didn’t even want to be normal. And more than anything, you were tired of people talking about you in front of you without addressing you, you were tired of the other children whispering in your back, you were tired of people telling you what to do.

You were tired of being a prey when your father promised you you would be a huntress. You kept the anger for you and you let it burn you from the inside. You tried to play the role of the perfect and cute little angel so your parents would stop bringing you to the doctors and they would stop making sure you take your meds.

It worked. Of course, it worked, because you were a smart and dangerous girl. 

You were a Sinclair. And you would forever be one.

However, one day, the anger got too strong.

--

PART II

--

Taglist: @murder-hobo - @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 4: It's My Party and I'll Eat Cake If I Want To

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter four of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (a few times), Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC,

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect.  If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Masterlist for Series

Masterlist

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

Philadelphia 1935

"Stop fidgeting." Your mother snaps under her breath as you pull at the high collar of the monstrosity covering your body. Not one inch of skin is visible, the high collar, long sleeves, and knee-length skirt hid every shred of your body from view. It made you feel like you were drowning in chiffon all the while being choked to death.

"But mother it's itchy-"

"I don't care." She snarls, lip curling back. "It makes you look presentable and you need to focus on greeting your guests."

You sigh and look back over the groups of people that flood through the front doors of your home and into the living room. Waiters in sharp uniforms weave through the crowd with trays of appetizers, glasses of wine and champagne, and slices of birthday cake. Most of the guests were friends of your parents, and had begun flocking to the wet bar in the corner that your mother set up. Your brother and his new wife were standing in the corner of your large sitting room surrounded by groups of their friends.

Your sister-in-law smiles as she catches your eye. She was one of the nicest people you knew, perfectly matched with your older brother, who looked at her like she was his entire world. They had only courted for a month before they both realized it was love and against your parent's insistences for them to wait, had been married. But they were so blissfully happy together that it made your heart ache for the same.

You wondered if there would ever be a day that Ben looked at you that way.

"Good evening Mrs. y/l/n." Howard appears in the doorway, reaching out to kiss your mother's hand. He's wearing the same sand-colored suit as he was earlier in the park.

"Mr. Stine. Lovely to see you this evening." She curtsies graciously and glares at you to do the same. "We are happy you could make it tonight."

"I was honored to receive an invitation." His eyes drift to you. "Ms. y/l/n." He takes your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. His hand is clammy and you try not to make a face.

Ben still hadn't shown up. Which meant that he was either out drinking and he forgot, fighting with his father again, or he was waiting to make his grand entrance.

You really hoped that he hadn't forgotten. When he dropped you off at your home a few hours prior to the party, he said something about going to get a drink and changing. What you'd wanted to say was, didn't you have enough earlier, but you didn't.

The few hours before the party had been harrowing, filled with your mother snapping at you whenever you complained about her pulling the corset too tight, jerking your hair, or rubbing the lotions and ointments into your skin too roughly.

"Would you like to dance?" Howard asks you with a smile.

"Um-" You begin to say.

"Of course she would!" Your mother says all but shoving you forward into Howard's arms.

He leads you away to the sitting room. Your mother had the staff clear out all the furniture to make room for a string band in the corner and a dance-floor. There were already a few couples swaying back and forth to the soft tones that flitted through the air on wings.

Howard pulls you against him awkwardly, one of his hands tightening on your waist, the other clasping your left hand  in his sweaty right. Everything about dancing with him feels wrong. The way your bodies move together, the smell of his cologne is unfamiliar, the feeling of his hand on your waist, and the way his feet sporadically knock into yours, that are pinched tight in a pair of heels that make you taller than Howard. The dance you share is filled with silences that you can't avoid.

Silence.

"You look really nice." Howard tries.

"Thank you."

Silence.

"So, um- you like to paint." Howard says with a strained smile.

"I do."

Silence.

"Did you see President Roosevelt's plans for the Social Security Administration? I think that it will definitely help with taxation and the living situations in America!" Howard smiles.

"Um. No I didn't."

Silence.

It shouldn't be this hard to talk to other people. You think to yourself. When you and Ben talked, there were never any uncomfortable silences, if anything sometimes the silence was nice. The one between Howard and you felt like it was big enough for an oil tanker to pass through.

You heard a commotion at the front door and raise your eyes to look over Howard's head, and feel your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. Ben is standing there, his arm looped tightly with Missy Callahan.

Missy was your best friend in grade school, but you quickly realized that it wasn't your friendship she was interested in, it was Ben. And as soon as Ben realized that she was interested in him, he all but jumped at the chance. Ben and her spent time together on and off over the past few years since the three of you were thirteen. And as much as you wished that they wouldn't spend any time together, you couldn’t come up with a way to voice your displeasure to Ben without telling him that you loved him.

You tried not to compare the way she looked to you. Her beautiful blonde hair fell in effortless waves down her back, her figure was slim, her eyes an enchanting blue that captured anyone under her gaze, and her steps so graceful she seemed to float across the ground rather than walk. Her voice was musical and lofty, accentuated by her timeless features, perfect cupid bow mouth, and wide eyes that always seemed full of stars and innocence. Tonight she was wearing a sleek red dress that cupped her body in a way that made everyone else in the room look like they were wearing potato sacks.

Of course you knew she was more than innocent. You'd caught her on several occasions saying terrible things about you, but the feeling was mutual. Her snide comments about how you looked and what you wore used to hurt more than they did now. But when Ben was around, she was perfectly kind to you, overly sweet that it made you want to choke her out of frustration.

You watch the two of them come through the front door, and notice Ben's eyes survey the room. You fight the urge to duck and run to hide the horrible dress. You know that he's looking for you and deep down you hope also he doesn't see you with Howard. But at the same time you know that what you’re about to do is much worse.

"Howard." You force yourself smile at him, dropping your eyes to the man dancing with you.

"Yeah?"

"Will you twirl me?" You lean towards him as if he's everything you wanted. Deep down you feel like a terrible person for using him like this, but you didn't want to be lonely. And when Ben was with Missy, that's exactly how you felt, lonely.

"Of course." Howard's smile breaks your heart. He twirls you away, and as he does, you catch Ben's eyes momentarily. You see something flit through them that you notice is the same emotion he had earlier when your mother wrapped that coat over your shoulders earlier, but it's gone as soon as it appears.

When you land back against Howard's chest, you ignore how wrong he fits against you, and instead you giggle.

"So Howard, what do you like to do in your free time?" You ask him, ignoring the feeling of Ben's gaze on you.

"Well, I've been researching the steel industry and trying to predict how it will bounce back-" Howard begins to slip quickly into a monologue about the United States steel production and the possible growth in the coming years.

Oh boy. He continues to speak while you sway to the music and you immediately begin to regret everything you've done in the past few minutes. At least he can multi-task.

You hoped that Ben and Missy weren't still standing there watching you, if they were Missy was probably laughing at you.

Finally, Howard stops talking and leads you over to the living room where people have begun to clump up and talk with one another. A waiter walks over with a tray full of birthday cake and just as you reach for a slice Missy materializes on your right like the devil on your shoulder.

"Y/n!" She smiles wide, saying your name with fake cheer. "I had no idea you would be here!"

"It's my birthday party." You say, voice slipping into a monotone.

"Oh well Benjamin didn't say anything about why we were coming here. Just said party and well, here I am." You hate the way she says his name, like she's emphasizing the fact she has him and you don't. "What an interesting dress!" Her eyes skate down the abomination your mother picked out.

"Thanks." You reply through gritted teeth.

She leans forward to whisper in your ear. "Do you really think birthday cake is a good idea?"

Your cheeks blaze bright red and just as you open your mouth to tell her exactly where you’d like to shove the birthday cake, Ben appears beside her.

"Hey."

"Hi." You don't bother to make your voice cheery.

When I sent you a birthday invitation I didn't say you could bring a plus one, and especially not this bitch. You try to say with your eyes.

"Did you have a nice dance Howie?" Ben turns his eyes on Howard, who stiffens at the use of the nickname.

"Yes we did." You answer for him and take Howard’s hand.

Something flashes in Ben's eyes when you use the word "we."

"Oh Benjamin, I love this song! Let's dance." Missy says, grabbing Ben's wrist and pulling him away.

You stand there and watch them dance for a moment, noticing how closely they're pressed together, how Ben's grip on her waist tightens as they sway back and forth, how Missy's head rests against the smooth fabric of his black jacket. An irrational amount of jealousy crashes over you as you watch them dance together, but you can't look away. It's like a trainwreck.

Well, couldn't look away until Missy catches your eye and shoots you a smirk that makes you consider all the places in Philadelphia you can hide a body. The list is detailed and quite long, considering you'd been working on it for as long as you'd known Ben.

"Y/n?" Howard says.

"Hmm?" You turn to look at him. "Sorry I was-" Thinking about all the ways to kill Missy. "Lost in thought."

"I asked if you wanted a piece of cake." Howard smiles and you hate that you feel absolutely nothing when he does. There's no butterflies, no tightening in the center of your chest, no warmth tracing through your body like fingertips flaring against your skin. You hated that's what happened when Ben smiled at you.

You think about what Missy said about the birthday cake, looking once more at her statuesque figure that bends gracefully away from Ben as he dips her, and shove the thought away. "Sure."

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

You sit on the end of your bed, but you don't reach for your sketchpad, you were too angry for that.

Ben had barely said two words to you beside the hello that you shared when he came to your birthday party with the most odious girl alive, of course that didn't mean that you lost them in the crowds of people. And that also meant that you'd seen him and her making out in one of the dark corners of the living room.

Anger, frustration, and jealousy swirl together and congeal into a ball in the pit of your stomach. You were angry at Ben for bringing her, jealous of Missy that she was the one who got to be with Ben, and frustrated at yourself for your inability to tell Ben the truth.

Why can't tell him? You sigh. And then what? I tell him and he immediately cuts me out of his life? Your eyes trace the room around you and fall back on your bed. Your bedroom always seemed too big without him, the bed cold, and the  room dark. It made the whole in your heart open up when he wasn't there.

You hated how much you needed him and how much you depended on Ben showing up in your life. You wondered if he needed you too.

The memory of him and Missy in the corner, with his hands on her hips and his lips fused to hers, darts across your mind and makes you pluck a pillow from the head of your bed and scream into it.

It doesn't help.

"Hard day?" Someone asks.

"What are you doing here Ben?" You sigh, not needing to look up to know that its him.

He's standing with his feet on your window seat as he comes in from the ledge.

"Thought I'd stop by. We didn't get to talk much at the party." He shrugs.

You try not to look at how his lips are a little pinker than usual and how his hair is sticking up in the back like someone has run their fingers through it.

Damn Missy.

"Well I noticed you were plenty occupied. I guess it's hard to talk with your tongue shoved down Missy's throat." You huff, practically kicking off your shoes. It's a miracle that they don't hit him when he climbs down from the widow seat.

The image of him and Missy Callahan in the corner of your living room kissing flashes over your mind again and makes your temper flare red hot against your skin. The jealousy that electrifies in your veins you know is unwarranted. Ben wasn't yours. You didn't have a claim to him just because you were friends. Just friends. Great friends. And you knew that he didn't feel that way about you.

But how can he not see me as more? How can he spend so much time with me and only see me as a friend? You wanted to scream. All those times falling asleep talking with one another, all the times we woke up in the early morning pressed against one another. How can Ben not want to be more?

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you sound jealous Doll." Ben smirks.

"Of what? Missy Callahan? Please-" You blow a raspberry, even though it's unladylike and you know that if your mother was there she would slap you for doing so. "I don't know what you see in that vapid self-centered debutante. I doubt the two of you can find anything to talk about-"

"Well we don't do much talking. And you and Howard looked plenty cozy together." Ben's smirk turns more into a taunt and this time it makes you want to slap your best friend, but you hold yourself back. "But you sure sound jealous."

"I'm not jealous!" You snap, tugging at the collar of your dress in frustration, both at Ben and at the material in your hands. "Damn it!" You curse, not at Ben, but continue tug at the collar of the dress. Despite wanting to take it off, you hadn't been able to do it by yourself and your mother was busy ordering the waiters downstairs clean up, and it was getting harder to breathe and not to mention terribly hot.

"You doing okay there sweetheart?" Ben's smirk shifts to a worried expression.

"No I can't breathe." You choke out.

Ben immediately steps forward before you can stop him and unzips the back of your dress. It pools at your feet, making your breath catch, leaving you in the tight white corset that was causing you to asphyxiate. Although it went to your knees you still felt almost naked. Ben had only seen you in nightgowns, but it didn't mean that he hadn't felt your curves pressed against him in the morning when you woke up together.

The corset your mother insisted was necessary to shave down your hips, flatten your butt, and squeeze your breasts so tight against your chest that each time you took in a breath you weren't able to expel it.

Ben doesn't look away from your face, but it looks as if it's causing an amazing amount of effort for him to do so. "Do you want me to loosen it?" He rumbles. His jaw clenches with his words, and a darkness blooms in his eyes that sends a thrill down your spine.

"Yes." Your voice comes out more like a squeak than anything else.

Ben turns you in his arms slowly as if gauging your reaction, before you feel his fingertips trail down your spine as he begins to loosen the ties on the back. The tingle that follows his fingertips makes your chest as tight as the garment that squeezes you. You try not to think about how many times you imagined this exact scenario, with you and Ben in your bedroom together. Ben turns your body around so that you're looking up at him again, your faces so close that his lips are leveled directly where your hair sprouts from your forehead.

His hands remain on your waist, thumbs rubbing soothing circles through the material where it rests on your hips, tracing the crest of your pelvis with each stroke, his eyes lock with yours. They are deep and dark and filled with promises that makes you shiver and you're sure he feels. Your own hands have come up between you to rest against his solid chest, admiring the muscle beneath his dark suit. You can't help but notice how he leans forward into your touch as you do and feel the rapid beat of his heart against the palms of your hands. It mirrors your own that feels as though it will break free and flutter away.

"Ben I-" You begin to say.

A loud knocking at your door makes you shove him backwards away from you so hard that Ben stumbles, tripping over the edge of your bed and onto the ground with a loud thud that you try to cover with a cough.

"Who is it?" You ask, voice frantic.

"It's your father."

Your wide eyes lock with Ben's, who doesn't look nearly afraid enough. "Get under the bed-" You whisper-yell.

"I love it when you order me around." Ben smirks as your cheeks flush and his eyes trace your figure one more time in a way that makes you burn.

"Ben!" You hiss.

He crawls under the bed and you grab your bathrobe, wrapping it around yourself before saying "Come in."

Your father enters, a glass of scotch clasped in his hand. His black suit is impeccable, perfectly tailored to him, as it should be, he was, after all, one of the most powerful men in Philadelphia.

His gaze sweeps the room for a moment as if looking for someone, tracing over your bed once, and you think you see the end of his lip quirk for a minute, but then it fades.

"Hi." You smile at him, your cheeks still flushed, heart beat pounding against your ribcage.

Don't look under the bed. Don't look under the bed. Don't look under the bed.

"I apologize for the intrusion, I just wanted to say goodnight." He crosses the room to hug you with one arm. You can smell the tobacco from his nightly smoke on his jacket. You and your father had always been a bit closer than you and your mother. Especially when you were younger and you'd sit in the parlor at his feet watching him smoke his pipe before bed. Over the past few years you hadn't been able to spend as much time together, and it made you sad to think that you were growing apart from him.

"Did you have a good birthday?"  He pushes back some of the hair that's fallen into your face with a warm smile.

"Yes I did. Ben got me some new brushes and I got to try them out today when we went to the park."

"That was nice of him." Your father smiles for a minute before he takes a sip from his scotch. "I saw you dancing with Howard Stine."

"Yeah. He's…" Boring. "Nice."

"Hmm." Your father nods. "He's from a good family. Your mother certainly thinks that he's suitable-" He pauses. "But I'm not sure he's right for you."

"It was just a dance. I don't think that makes anything official." You laugh.

Please let my future not end with Howard Stine.

Your father shrugs his shoulders and takes another sip of his scotch. "Your mother and I started with just a dance." The look in his eyes changes for a moment and you wonder if he's reliving the memory of them together. It was moments like this when you saw how much your father loved your mother. It was difficult for you to understand given everything that she'd said to you over the years, but it brought you joy that your father was happy. He shakes his head as if pushing it away. "You always seem happier after you've spent time with Benjamin."

Your cheeks flush bright red, knowing that Ben can hear the conversation. "We're just friends."

"Perhaps." His lips twitch. "So you did have fun at the park? Any new paintings?"

"A few."

"May I see?"

Usually you liked when your father looked at your work, but the thought that Ben was hiding under your bed and could be discovered at any minute, set you on edge.

"Sure." You walk around the bed to get your watercolor pad on your bedside table, before holding it out over the bed for your father. And just as he takes it, Ben's large hand fastens around your ankle. You clear your throat, kicking your foot to get him to let go, but he doesn't release it  and you can hear his muffled laugh.

"These are quite something." He flips through the pages, finally stopping on the one of Ben from this morning. "I can't believe he sat still long enough for you to paint him."

"Ben is difficult. ALL the time." You grit out, kicking with your foot again, but he doesn't let go. "And annoying." You grumble low enough for only Ben to hear.

"Yes. I believe that."  Your father hands you back the pad of paper. "But he certainly makes you happy, and that's all I want for you."

"Dad-"

He smiles, but shakes his head at you. "Goodnight darling." Your father turns to walk towards the door before he stops. "Your mother will be coming upstairs in a few minutes, perhaps Ben should not be here when she does." And then he leaves.

Your entire body flushes bright red with embarrassment. HOW DID HE KNOW THAT BEN WAS HERE?

Ben crawls out from under your bed holding back laughter.

"It's not funny!" You snap.

"Kinda funny." He smiles. "Do you think he's going to tell your mom?"

"No. I mean I hope not. I think if he does, she'd nail the window shut and cut the tree down." You stand there for a second. "But you should go if she's coming."

"I could hide in the closet this time, see if she can find me?" Ben jokes.

"It's not hide and go seek or Marco Polo!"

Ben laughs at you, before his expression turns serious. "Are you sure you want me to go?" You know that he's asking you that because he knows that no matter what your mother wants to speak to you about will not end well.

"I'm fine Ben. Go. It'll be okay." You smile despite your rising nerves.

"Okay."

He stands there for another beat, eyes dropping to your robe, and for a second you believe that he's thinking about how you looked a minute ago. Your cheeks flush at the memory, feeling his hands trace your spine to loosen the corset, and then how they felt on your waist. What would have happened if my father didn't come in?

"I'll see you tomorrow. I still have five days of freedom before boarding school number seven and I'd like to spend at least one at a baseball game." He finally says.

"Sounds boring."

"I can always take Missy." He replies smugly.

"And by boring I mean it sounds like everything I've ever wanted." You force a smile.

"That's what I thought."

But before he leaves, he pulls you into a hug.

"Goodnight y/n. Happy Birthday."

"Goodnight Ben." You say into his shoulder.

And then he vanishes out your window without another word, leaving you with the memory of what almost happened, and the rising dread that your mother was going to come in at any minute.

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

Thank you so much for reading! If you would like to be added to my taglist for this series let me know :)

Also, everyone say thank you to @deans-spinster-witch for giving me an idea for this chapter! ❤️

Taglist: @roseblue373 @anundyingfidelity @cheynovak @cassiecasluciluce @muhahaha303 @deans-spinster-witch

[familyagrestefanblog]

I find it... kinda irritating how saying that Hero Gabriel is still a failure of a father even if he's not a bad person is apparently somewhat of a hot take.

It is irrelevant at what extreme end of the moral spectrum Gabriel is - sadistic villain or heroic saint - fact still remains that you wouldn't notice either with Monarque or Hesperia that they are fathers at all, while simultaneously both Adriens are clearly depicted as teenagers who basically have to re-settle themselves into their lives after they were emotionally orphaned in every sense that matters.

It is irrelevant that Alt Gabriel is a hero, not a bad person or that he wasn't outright abusive like our Gabriel, nothing will change the fact that Griffe Noire Adrien's path to healing goes the same route as our Adrien's.

And that is AWAY from his father, not WITH him.

Griffe Noire at the end was roughly were our Adrien started off at the beginning of the show, just this time with a better path ahead Ladynoir wise since they know their identities.

He changed for the better when our Adrien gave him the self-acceptance, understanding and sympathy he didn't receive from Alt Gabriel or anyone else for the matter.

Helped him overcome the grief of loosing their mother and accepting that the self-harming behavior he's acting on (or both of them) is not something she would want for them.

There are 2 reasons why Alt Adrien couldn't get over his mother's death, and that's 1) because unlike our Adrien, Alt Adrien didn't try finding new happiness in friendship, and 2) because he too couldn't count on his remaining parent (Gabriel) which made him feel his mother's loss even worse.

Alt Gabriel could be the greatest hero of all time and he still would be a fucked up father because he was so busy being a saint that he apparently barely was a father. When alt Gabe cries in the sewer one would think he'd bring up his child as one of his main motivations, but no, he doesn't.

Because Hesperia is just as little characterized as a FATHER as Monarque.

That aspect of Gabriel didn't change.

Hesperia didn't even fucking know that his son is Griffe Noire either, how attentive to you think this man IS??

Alt Adrien goes on the same path as our Adrien and that's away from being emotionally dependent on his father - the way a 14 year old should normally ALLOWED TO BE bc thats NATURAL and how it's supposed to be - to make friends, but most importantly he sure as hell went on being emotionally dependend on HIS Maribug the way our Adrien was/is

Especially the last picture is extremely telling (and one would think our Marinette would finally start paying attention bc Griffe Noire's change right in front of her eyes is literally all she would need to help her fully understand HER Chat Noir's behavior and how that came to be. But apparently we can't ever have Marinette pick up on the most obvious stuff about Chat Noir's problems).

Unlike Toxinelle who is waving goodbye while holding Griffe's hand, HE is not acknowledging our dimension anymore even when he's the last one to enter the portal by a good bit, bc he's so fixated on his Maribug as his whole world bc just like our Adrien he's literally emotionally an orphan and needs an anchor like everyone else.

Good chance that Toxinelle thinks they're just normally holding hands and she's merely going in first, but no, he is letting her lead him out. He doesn't care whats behind or ahead of him, he's just seeing her.

Alt Gabriel is an awful father and you can tell because Alt Adrien literally has to re-settle in life similar to an orphan while his father is still alive and living in the same damn house!

THAT'S what decides if Alt Gabriel is an awful father, NOT him running around as a charming hero. The quality of parenthood is NOT measured by how "good of a person" the parent is, it's measured by the child's fucking well-being

And I don't know if you noticed it by now, but this is the same logic as our Gabriel being hailed a hero after his death. The special already elaborates on this new angle of Gabriel suddenly being a "hero" while he very clearly was a monstrous failure of a father (and person).

So what side are YOU gonna be on here?

Are you going to victim blame Adrien by just declaring Gabriel Agreste a great, blameless and loving father now because that's what you're being told at face-value while the narrative conveniently plays the case in Gabriel's favors by removing all of them from the dimension they are actually from so his faults are being mostly covered up, and Adrien's looks worse without its proper context of their home-dimension and father-son dynamic

Or are you going to fucking LOOK at the child this amazing hero is emotionally abandoning on a daily in way too many ways and ask yourself if that's the result of a competent and attentive parent?

[lorimnnn]

Mine (Michel Myers x AFAB!Reader)

summary: before Michael was ever ‘The Shape’ of Haddonfield, he was just a boy. he was a boy in love with the girl across the road, his sister’s best friend--- the only girl to show him kindness, love and warmth. you. 

Basically, Michael falls in love with his sister’s best friend at 6, who sometimes played emergency babysitter especially when Judith was fooling around with her bf. He clings to those memories growing up in the asylum until the day he breaks out, where he decides the first thing he wants to do is find you and keep you, your sunshine only for him. Reader is super girly and feminine, which just fuels michael’s possessiveness. 

cw: gore, violence, kidnapping, obsession, manhandling, possessiveness

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

~

Michael remembers the first time he saw you in perfect, vivid detail. 

When things get bad at the asylum, he closes his eyes and remembers, and sometimes it feels like he’s really there all over again. It’s like he’s four all over again, sitting on the sofa with the TV turned on, squashed between Mom and Dad. They still loved him, then. They act differently now, so remembering is like remembering different people. 

But everything was different. 

He remembers the door swinging open so roughly, it smacked the wall with a bang. In strolled Judith, and after, you. And he couldn’t stop looking at you. 

“Judith! I swear to-”

You, frowning at something Judith was saying, quickly schooling your expression when you noticed Michael and his parents. An uneasy smile settled over your face as you turned to his sister and glared that little bit. You looked so fierce. He’d wondered what you were warning her about with that look, because Judith had passed you a smile so smug back. A smile that said trouble of all sorts of alarming degrees, but that was Judith. And that trouble would later become Danny. 

This is where Michael started to get a little distracted. It all starts to come back when he remembers-

Back to you. 

You were so angelic back then. His parents had loved you. Judith, while often mistreating you and taking your kindness for granted, was protective of you for as much as her selfishness would allow. That wasn’t much. It wasn’t long until Danny burst into the picture and whenever you were available and their parents weren’t, he was kicked out into your house. But that wasn’t so bad. He liked your house. 

And he liked you. Loved you. 

Not in the way he loved his mom and dad, or the way he loved Judith, even if he was sometimes so mad at her he thought he hated her. But loved you. There were no words to describe it. 

Anyway, the first time you came to his rescue he’d been sitting on that same sofa. Judith had told him to stay down there as she wondered upstairs with Danny. He didn’t like Danny. He dragged her upstairs and weird noises started punctuating the silence, and they sounded like they hurt, but the door was locked when he checked. And Judith had screamed at him to leave, so he had, and reassumed his spot on the sofa all over again. 

You walked into the house a moment later. You must’ve heard her yelling. 

The walls were thin. 

“Hey, Mikey.” You knelt down in front of him. “Why don’t you hang out with me for a little bit?”

“Why?”

“It can’t be all that fun sitting down here all by yourself. Judy is having her own fun.” You casted a sharp glare at the ceiling. It creaked with movement in response. “Why don’t you come to mine? I still have all my toys from when I was a kid. I’ll let you play with them, or we can play together, if you want.”

He didn’t like toys too much. But he liked you. 

So he let you take him by the hand and lead him out the door. Your hand was warm. So soft. It was all he could think about. He didn’t even process it until he was sitting on your pink bed, the fluffy pink duvet pillowing his sides. Everything was pink. Your walls. Your furniture. The toys you were talking about, which ended up being in a pink box you dragged out from under the bed and showed him. He was interested in them for about two seconds until he saw you approach your vanity and start poking and prodding at your face with those little tools. 

You were pretty. So pretty. 

And Michael was mesmerised. 

When he thinks about it now, he realises that you were supposed to go out. You were all dolled up and prettier than usual, so pretty that it was almost dangerous. A hazard to other boys. Boys like Danny, maybe? No. No no no. You picked up your phone a minute later and dialed a number. 

“Sorry, but we’ll have to reschedule! I know, I know. I’m sorry. Things came up. But I’m hanging out with my most favourite person in the world.” You winked. “Hm? Oh, don’t worry about that. But call me when you’re free next time, okay?”

Those words had meant nothing. All he’d heard was that he was your ‘favourite person in the world’, and he’d fixated on them, obsessed over them, replaying them over and over again until he was a hot, blushing mess. But all he could do was blush. He was your favourite person? You were his favourite person, too!

He ended up returning home when Danny left. 

He ended up going back to your’s every time he came back. He didn’t care. He was delighted. You would watch movies with him and eat ice cream and cuddle under a blanket. He liked the last part best. Sometimes, he would pretend he was asleep just so you would let him lie there, close to your breast with his head tucked under your chin, your hands stroking through his hair. 

“Mikey?”

“Mmh?”

“Nevermind, go to sleep. Long day, hm?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course. Life must be so stressful,” you would tease. 

Michael would just play along with a very high-pitched, whiny, “yeah, I’m so tired.”

Each and every time, you would cancel all your plans to be with him. He could tell you were getting sick of it. He really, really hoped you weren’t sick of him. 

Because he really liked your cuddles. 

But all good things came to an end, didn’t they? Of course they did. Your mom just had to take you on a holiday and leave him all alone with Judith, who was just going to do what she would’ve done the first time. Ignore him. Choose Danny over him. And she did. 

Well, then she died. Or he killed her. Same thing. 

Then he went to Smith’s Grove. He didn’t really feel anything towards it. Not good, not bad. It was alright. It just was. The only time he ever missed home was at night when it got cold, and all he could think of was how much he missed being cuddled up in your arms. How warm you were. How soft you were when he leaned his head against you, the perfect pillow. He missed you so much. 

He would think about you all the time. 

As the years passed, he would think about how you changed. If you grew up at all. What you looked like now. If you would still love him like you did when he was a kid, before everything happened. Of course you would, wouldn’t you? He was your most favourite person in the world. 

Right?

As he grew older, those thoughts descended into uglier ones. Not once did he think of killing you, so no, no that type of ugly. But ugly in ways that sapped at the last of his shame, his sanity, what was left of his fractured humanity. He was sixteen when he first wondered if you would like doing with him what Judith used to do with her boyfriend. He was sixteen when he first touched himself to the thought of you, his movements clumsy and inexperienced. Grinding his hips into the bed when you possessed his dreams, palming himself desperately when he was reminded of you at random, inopportune times. Who cared who watched? Who cared who saw?

All he wanted was you. 

According to everyone else, he was incapable of emotion, let alone sexual desire. Those were two things he knew that nobody would dare to associate with him. And they weren’t wrong. He wasn’t capable of emotion. He wasn’t capable of sexual desire. That was on a general basis, anyway. 

But you weren’t everyone else. You were you. 

And he wanted you. 

But that was the thing. As he aged, he was beginning to realise that if he really wanted something, he could have it. It was all so easy. 

And he would have you. 

~

Haddonfield is... Well. It has memories. 

Maybe it isn’t your wisest idea to move back, after all that happened. Losing your best friend. The little boy you used to babysit sometimes turning out to be the culprit behind her sudden death. Sometimes you blamed yourself for it.

The police had said it’d been coming. He probably felt neglected. Lonely. 

If you hadn’t gone with your mom on that holiday... 

Ugh. Ew. 

You hate having sombre thoughts like that. Does it help you’re cleaning out your mom’s place after she passed? No, it really doesn’t. But nobody else was going to do it. Fuckers. And they had the audacity to say that they loved her, cared for her, appreciated her. Seemed there’s no reason to keep up the pretences now that she’s not around to check up on it. While they may be in the mourning phases, it really isn’t an excuse. So are you. 

Yet here you are. 

The neighbourhood is basically deserted. It makes for eery quiet as you meander about, boxing up your mom’s old stuff and scouring through the little nooks and crannies where she liked to hide things. Sometimes it feels like you’re breathing too hard. Moving too loudly. Everything feels like too much. Maybe you’d cry if you had the energy to. 

Now, this place is... It just is. And it isn’t. You realise maybe you’re the only one who came in not because you’re the least cowardly, but the most brave. 

Because this is not just the place your mum died. Not just the neighbourhood where once upon a time, a little boy committed his first act of insanity. It’s the place where just a few months ago, Michael Myers was taken back to the Sanitarium after a Halloween spree. There was no telling when he’d come back. It all seems so random, the motivation too vague to pick out, his acts too gruesome to discuss. As someone who knew him, it’s nothing short of a bad idea to be around. But it’s for your mom. 

At least, that’s what you tell yourself. 

You were in the bar when the crowd silenced, and the news boomed into the room with chilling fervor. 

‘Breaking news, clinically insane serial killer Michael Myers, nicknamed ‘The Shape of Haddonfield’, has escaped for the second time from Smith’s Grove Sanitarium. Five found dead and severely mutilated. While his predicted path is unclear, residents of Haddonfield are warned to be cautious and call the authorities immediately if any suspicious behaviour is seen. Police will be on high alert. Stay safe.’

You knew in that moment that you were so, so fucked. Somehow you also decided that would have been the best moment to drink yourself stupid, hook up with some other blackout drunk fellow, and pretend none of that happened. 

It’s been a week since the announcement. Police have been patrolling the streets. More than once you’ve received a few knocks on the door, asking if you’ve seen or heard anything. Those come around almost everyday, since you live right across where he used to. Every time, you say the same thing. 

‘No. I’m just here for my mom. I’ll be out soon enough.’

You’re lying. You’re lying through your teeth. 

Logically, you know you should leave. He’ll come back for Haddonfield. You know it. Everyone knows it. There’s no reason for him not to. 

And he’ll come back for that house. The one across yours. 

He might even come back for you. 

But winning over your logic side is the stupid part of you that denies it. That still can’t believe that little boy became that horrid man, when just days before he killed Judith he was sleeping against your chest watching cartoons on the TV. Putting makeup on his face because he wanted to do what you were doing. Watching you doll yourself up each and every time with red-faced admiration. He’d been so innocent. 

It’s just... It’s inconceivable that he became whatever he is. A monster. A nightmare. Something of both. 

So maybe it isn’t really denial that he’s coming. More so denial that he won’t touch you. 

And it’s so arrogant, and it’s so selfish, because you’ve seen his picture on the TV and he’s nothing short of terrifying. 

It’s your arrogance and selfishness that you cling to when you hear the floorboards creak behind you. 

---

GUYS I POSTED THIS LITERALLY FIVE MINUTES AGO, LIKE DUDE OKAY OKAY PART 2 COMING SOON

since it’s a side blog i can’t reply to ur notes, if you drop your name in tho i can tag you for when pt 2 is out! (either that or follow hehehehehee)

BUT Y’ALL OMFG-

also pls reblog! It really helps boost my post!

:)))) <3

[desire-mona]

siiiigh. todd autism headcanons because im projecting.

(using they/he/she pronouns for todd in this post. will explain but also if u dont agree i dont care, tw for alcoholism. time period is vague but autism hasnt existed as a legitimate medical diagnosis for all that long, so keep it in mind i guess.)

- cannot for the life of him stand welton's blankets. so itchy, just thin enough to not warm you up enough but still make you sweat, not long enough to cover your entire body. yes im making the blanket line in their poem about actual blankets, a boy needs to vent somewhere.

- beyond terrible temperature regulation, ALWAYS just a little too hot which is made worse by her sensory issues when it comes to wet fabric. constant slight agony and it never really goes away. theyre about 5 minutes away from crying about how uncomfortable they are at all times.

- had god awful handwriting until high school, like his teachers could BARELY read his handwriting it was Bad. OOOOOH OH MY GOD THERES A TRAIN GOING BY I CAN HEAR IT HONKING this is a really ironic thing to be pointing out rn but its sooooo worth mentioning. its still honking this is fun. 🚂. anyway. her parents made her spend an entire summer fixing her handwriting bc that was like the One thing her teachers criticised. its Fine now but their motor function simply doesn't deliver in the handwriting department.

- had a VERY INTENSE special interest in aquatic life + marine biology growing up, like read every book about any ocean animal in any library intense. his parents eventually forced him to abandon it because its "not a good career focus" but he still perks up when anyone mentions fish. once talked neils ear off about the biodiversity of coral reefs for roughly 2 hours, neil took her to an aquarium for their first date. rip todd anderson you wouldve loved spongebob squarepants.

- looooves pets, namely cats, but they have Too Sweaty hands all the time so any animal fur sticks onto their hands and just feels. so awful.

- had a brief period in his 20s where he was definitely an alcoholic, started as a social drinker but got too addicted to the feeling of not having to adhere to social conventions quite as hard, especially around other drunk ppl. eventually went sober after they realised they just Cant Stand the feeling of a hangover anymore. autistic ppl r more likely to develop a dependency on alcohol if we do start drinking. just btw.

- gets a Pretty Expansive vocabulary after actually starting to pursue literature. sometimes his family lightly teases him about using big words but it confuses the hell out of him. its just a word she thought would apply best!!

- soooooo obsessed with what other ppls idea of them is, both in an anxious way and out of genuine curiosity. would never ask ppl what they think of her bc she thinks thats 1) very broad 2) seems compliment fish-y and 3) just gonna lead to "i think ur great/ nice/ whatever filler compliment." but the dream is to sit someone (neil) down and just ask him every single question possible about how he perceives him.

- asks a billion clarifying questions about anything someone asks him to do, gets anxious about how many questions he's asking, tries to just figure it out, freaks out about the possibility of getting it wrong, ends up doing the thing perfectly. weekly occurrence.

- never fully grasped the appeal of religion (most definitely grew up catholic or christian or Something) just bc she could NOT let the lack of proof go. ALSO not an atheist bc the vastness of space scares them out of it. religious beliefs r a weird topic for them.

- suppresses a good chunk of his stims in public bc One total time someone looked at him weird while he was chewing on a sweatshirt string and he was like i gotta stop NOW. eventually develops tics and has to mask THOSE in public too. dear god someone let this girl unmask. also i started ticcing while writing that bc my body does this great thing where i only tic when im reminded of the concept of ticcing. its great and totally doesnt make me think im faking them (faking for who? dunno bc it usually happens when im alone)

- DOES in fact stim around neil bc NEIL STIMS TOO!!!!!!!! joyous day when they found THAT out! gets vocal stims of random lines from whatever play neil is practicing for. YEAA ART THOU THEEEEREE was a vocal stim for a solid week and a half which made neil VERY excited (autistic neil. how i love u autistic anderperry)

- velcro is The most evil vile disgusting material to ever grace this mortal realm. he hates it more than anything ever and i mean that fully. the feeling of BOTH sides, the noise, how easily it comes apart, she hates it all.

this is the gender part

never really viewed gender and gender roles as anything to adhere to beyond the fear of punishment if they dont. finds any social convention relating to gender to be Really dumb and meaningless, bc gender isn't (scientifically) real in any capacity, so why treat it like that? for the longest time just shrugged and said "eh, i guess im a boy" bc thats what she was used to being told, and didn't feel particularly drawn to agree OR disagree. eventually realised on a late night that Wait. i dont Actually care what i am. like yeah im a Male i guess but also im just me. my brain doesnt have a gender and i basically am my brain, right? and then never really thought about it again because that's genuinely how little he cares. adhering the most to canon with that mindset, she never really tells anyone (for obvious reasons on top of the overall apathy) and just lets the he/him happen to her but. in my dream world? agender they/he/she todd anderson. and this is MY blog so those are the pronouns im using from now on. i will forever love talking abt how autistic ppl very often view gender differently than allistic ppl, will forever love talking abt how autistic ppl are more likely to be trans. autism!!!

also yes that entire paragraph is just my view of gender, change the pronouns and the todd mentions and its just me. what of it.

[toournextadventure]

everyone but her pt.29

Summary: Wednesday's ex makes an appearance and you're not happy about it. Neither is the voice in your head. And things only go downhill from there.

Word Count: 4.8k Warnings: swearing, murder, hallucinations, injuries, police Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (everyone but her Masterlist)

“Joel?” You asked.

“I haven’t seen you in ages,” Joel said, his eyes still glued to Wednesday. Why was he looking at her like that?

“Since that second summer at Camp Chippewa,” Wednesday said with the slightest tilt of her head. Why was she looking at him like that?

“Camp what?” You asked. Everyone seemed to be trying to follow the conversation same as you; it didn’t make you feel any better.

Your migraine got worse.

“You staged a getaway again, same as the first summer,” Joel continued.

“What is going on?” You asked.

“Come join us,” Wednesday said as she moved aside.

“What the fuck?” You whispered to yourself as you watched him sit right by your girlfriend. Why was he so eager? What the hell was he doing?

He made her tilt her head, the voice in your head growled, loud and booming. It almost felt like it was rattling your brain inside your skull before pulverising it with a meat tenderiser. Even though it worsened the migraine, you knew the voice was right. This Joel character, whoever the hell he was, had made Wednesday do the equivalent of a smile. You could barely even do that.

You watched - and seethed - as Joel and Wednesday started talking as if they had known each other for centuries. She doesn’t talk to you like that, the voice said when Wednesday started rambling about whatever thing she had learned in her Lit class that, coincidentally, he was also taking. They were bonding.

Get angry, the voice said when Wednesday very nearly smirked at something he said. She didn't, but she nearly did, and that was bad enough. Images flashed in your mind, images of your hands around his neck. It would be simple, you only had to reach over the table. You just looked back down at your food and stabbed your spoon through your rice.

"Seems Wednesday finally has a friend," Divina said from her spot beside you.

"Yeah," you mumbled.

His pulse weakening beneath your fingers as you squeezed harder-

-you blinked to clear the image away. You didn’t need to kill him, especially if he was a friend of Wednesday’s. She didn’t have many friends, you needed to calm down and let her live. Wednesday Addams had no keeper, and even if she did it certainly wouldn’t be you.

“How do you two know each other again?”Ash asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. You stabbed the spoon into your food once again; you weren’t hungry anymore.

“My Aunt Debbie deceived my parents into forcing Pugsley and me to attend a summer camp a few years ago,” Wednesday said with another tilt of her head. You roughly grabbed your coffee, suppressing your cough when the liquid was still just a bit too hot when it hit your throat.

“You have an Aunt Debbie?” Bianca asked.

“Picture a grown Enid, but more homicide and mania,” you said with a shrug. Not that you had met her yet, but you had heard stories. After all, she had married Wednesday’s favourite Uncle.

“We were always in trouble for not being like everyone else,” Joel said. He needed to quit looking at Wednesday before you ripped his eyes out of his skull.

“What rebels,” you mimicked, ignoring the look Yoko sent your way. “Practically anarchists.”

“Wednesday was my first kiss, actually.”

You choked on the coffee you had just attempted to drink. She was what? With wide eyes, you looked up to see Wednesday looking at you with a passive face, aside from the slightly lowered brows. Oh she was not giving you that look, not when you were just told Mr. Happy Go Lucky over there had kissed her.

“Oh shit,” Yoko whispered.

Even with your eyes glued to Joel, you could feel everyone else’s eyes on you. Watching you, waiting to see if you would snap. Is that what your life had turned into? One where everyone was just waiting to see what would be the straw to break the camel’s back? Worried that just one wrong thing would cause you to break and lose your temper? 

They should be worried, the voice in your head taunted. You’re a loose canon. 

No you weren’t. 

A liability. 

No. 

A death wish.

“So you two were together?” Ajax asked, his eyes still closed from the hangover no doubt plaguing his body.

“As well as two children can be,” Wednesday said.

“For about a year and a half or so,” Joel said with a nod. He wasn’t even giving you the respect of looking at you.

A death wish.

“We were, what, 12? 13?” Joel asked as he looked at Wednesday with the beginning of a smile.

Tick tick tick.

“I believe so,” Wednesday said with a slight nod.

“Shit,” Yoko mumbled again.

You’re gonna snap.

“And you actually, like, had a good time?” Kent asked Wednesday.

Tick tick tick.

“I would say it was rather enjoyable, yes,” Wednesday answered.

Boom.

You slammed your hands on the table and stood up quickly. The ringing in your ears grew with each second that seemed to crawl by at an agonising pace. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get a full breath. It felt like you were trying to breathe underwater, each breath heavier and more painful than the last. You were acutely aware of everyone’s eyes on you as the hair on the back of your neck stood up.

Defend what’s yours.

“Hey,” Divina said softly. You couldn’t help but flinch when her hand rested on your forearm. She can go too. “You okay?”

“I’m gonna head out,” you managed to choke out past the lump in your throat.

“Are you feeling ill?” Wednesday asked.

Finally she was looking at you with something other than indifference. Outwardly it would almost seem angry, but you could see the lack of a glare in her eyes. She wasn’t looking up at you, but looking at you with the slightest downturn of her lips. You knew what care looked like on her, and for the first time all day, it was what she was showing you.

“I have a pocket pharmacy,” Joel said quickly, “did you need something specific?”

Kill them all.

“I’m good,” you said harshly. Break his spirit. “I’ll see you guys at the dorm.”

“Did you-”

-you didn’t wait to hear what Yoko was going to say before leaving the booth and heading out of the little restaurant. You gave a tense goodbye wave to Chung on the way out the door. The migraine continued to pound against the inside of your skull, worsening when the sunlight hit your eyes.

Go back in there and show him who’s the boss.

“Shut up,” you said through clenched teeth as you started walking aimlessly down the street.

The voice continued to rage inside your head, mixing between threats and images that, try as you might, you couldn’t shake off. The sound of Joel’s gasps for air or the feel of him desperately trying to claw your hands off. It was too much, you didn’t want to hurt him.

Yes you do.

“I don’t,” you said aloud again, ignoring the look a random woman gave you as you walked past her.

Your feet carried you until you reached the taller buildings in town; the high rises that truly weren’t very high. With only a quick glance around, you stepped into one of the alleys and stopped midway. Your fingers shook as you slid your shirt off and unbuckled the harness, exhaling through your nose at the sudden lack of pressure against your back.

Stop running away.

There was a slight pressure in your back as your wings expanded before you pushed yourself off the ground, propelling straight into the sky until you could land on the top of the highest building. It was a nice place, plenty secluded and you had even managed to sneak a few things up there. There was only one door and it was always locked, so you could keep your things nice and secret.

Breathing continued to be a struggle as your feet touched the rooftop and your wings folded back securely in place. The tips of a few feathers brushed against your arm and you frowned for a moment. It was about time for a dust bath; they were feeling a little unkempt. A problem for another time, of course.

You walked around the rooftop, pacing back and forth in front of one of the walls that was covered in the reflective glass. Sometimes, during the summer, it nearly turns you into a roasted chicken. But now, during the middle of winter, it was a nice change of pace and-

-a familiar head of unruly curls reflected off the glass.

Your body turned so quickly you nearly slipped on the slick gravel. It felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest when you saw him in the glass, looking at you with such pity you wanted to scream. Tears didn’t bother welling up in your eyes, instead just pouring over until you could feel them nearly freezing on your cheeks from the temperature outside.

“What have you done?” Nicky asked with a tilt of his head and a frown.

You shook your head frantically. You hadn’t done anything, that’s why you were up there. So you wouldn't do anything!

He’s right, the voice said.

“I’m so disappointed,” he said.

The glass shattered before he could open his mouth again, the sharp sound causing you to flinch and squeeze your eyes shut. A pain radiated through your hand. For a fleeting second the migraine vanished before coming back with a vengeance. You choked back a cry before opening your eyes.

Nicky was gone.

The panel of glass was in shards on the ground, now nothing more than a metal backing. Something warm dripped from your hand. You let your head fall and saw the red dripping down your fingers to the gravel below. It was almost hypnotising. Beautiful even.

He’s disappointed in you.

“Stop,” you mumbled as you lifted your hands to cover your ears.

He knows what you did.

“Please stop.” The lump in your throat grew with the tears that continued to fall onto the gravel, mixing with the droplets of blood.

He would hate you.

You tried to say something but the words got caught, coming out as nothing more than a strangled sob as you fell to your knees. The gravel dug through your pants and into your skin, but all you could feel was the weight of Nicky’s disappointment weighing heavy on your shoulders.

It was unclear how long you sat up there on the roof, covering your ears and crying, the cold winter air burning your lungs with each shaky gasp. You were barely even aware of the air getting more crisp, stinging your cheeks and nearly freezing the tears to your skin.

At one point you just let your hands drop and rest on your thighs. Your left hand was caked in dried blood that cracked when it moved. It didn’t hurt anymore, not really. It just rested on your leg as you stared at the gravel, focusing on the singular black pebble you had found in your daze.

"Y/N?"

You didn’t even flinch at the voice behind you; truthfully you weren’t even surprised she had managed to get through the locked door. It was on par for her, that was for sure. Had she brought her new toy with her? Was he going to follow her every move as if his life depended on it?

You do the same.

Yeah. Yeah you did.

“Mi amore,” Wednesday said in a voice so soft you felt a fresh wave of tears fall.

A pair of soft hands held your face firmly before you actually saw Wednesday in front of you. Her eyes were wide and looking over every inch of you. She would hate what she saw, you knew that much. You looked pitiful and weak and broken and that wasn’t acceptable.

Joel isn’t broken.

“You’re freezing,” Wednesday said in that painfully soft voice that you were growing to hate.

She uses it because you’re weak.

“Enid made stew,” she said as if she wasn’t watching you kneel on the precipice of a breakdown. “It should help warm you up.”

She straightened in front of you without letting go of your face. The slightest pull indicated she wanted you to follow, but you just couldn’t get up. Nicky’s face was stuck in your mind, that look of disappointment haunting you. It left your head reeling and had your mouth filling with saliva; you felt like you were going to be sick.

“Cara mia?”

Don’t, you thought, don’t call me that. Her eyes were gentle, and all she had to do was tilt her head before you choked out a sob. As uncharacteristic of her as it was, her hands left your face to wrap around your shoulders, pulling you forward until your head rested on her stomach and you had her unspoken permission to cry.

You’re weak.

That simple fact made you cry harder into Wednesday’s stomach, your hands lifting to grab her jacket so tightly you felt the skin split on your knuckles once again. It was right; you were weak. You couldn’t even handle her seeing an old friend again without completely losing every bit of sanity you had left. How were you going to do anything for her if you couldn’t even do that?

And the fact that she still held you tight while you cried? Showed such a shameless display of weakness and vulnerability when you knew she hated such things in people? Especially such visible displays of those emotions. And yet there you were, crying into her clothes with blood on your hand because you couldn’t stand looking at a fucking piece of glass.

“Would you find comfort in talking about it?” Wednesday asked when you finally settled into little more than the occasional sniffle.

Would you? Possibly. But how could you admit anything that had been going on in your mind? The voices, the jealousy, the insecurity. Nicky. There was no way to talk about any of it without coming across as crazy, and you weren’t crazy. Or maybe you were, you weren’t so sure anymore.

The migraine got worse.

“No,” you said with a long exhale through your nose before pulling back. “No I wouldn’t.”

“Very well,” she said.

She stilled for a moment, and you wondered if she was going to berate you. Tell you to straighten up, keep going, move on. That’s what your dad would have said. It’s what your mom would have said too. Her family was unusual with emotions, maybe she was going to tell you the same thing.

But then you felt her lips press to the top of your head, lingering for far longer than necessary, and it was your turn to freeze. When she pulled away, her gaze had softened and you were looking at your Wednesday. Your Wednesday, who secretly enjoyed receiving affection and even found pleasure in giving it back.

“If you would wish to talk about it, you may,” she said with a tilt of her head. “I would appreciate forewarning so I may prepare,” she blinked once, “but you may.”

You looked up at her. Well, you tried; truthfully she wasn’t much taller than you even when you were on your knees. Just the sight of her was enough to have your heart trying to jump out of your throat; even at night, in the current situation, she looked stunning. No contrast at all to the dark sky above her, simply blending in with the natural beauty surrounding her.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked.

“No,” she said quickly.

“What?” You asked with furrowed brows. “Why not?”

“We are on a freezing rooftop in the middle of winter,” she said, “you can kiss me at home.”

“Bet you kissed Joel in the middle of winter,” you grumbled as Wednesday steadied herself to help you to your feet.

“Not on a freezing rooftop.”

“So you did kiss him in the middle of winter,” you said quickly.

You were upset. Drastically upset, and nothing was going to change it. But the tension of the situation was getting to be far too much, and you were far too tired to keep up with it. Nicky’s face faded into the back of your mind and, though he was still there, he didn’t seem quite as disappointed. At least not at the moment. You could work with that.

“Is Joel the reason you stormed out of the restaurant?” She asked with her own raised brow. “Because if so, it’s rather immature.”

If anyone else had been around, they would have thought she was treating you like an imbecile. And she was! But the slight tilt of her head and the smallest tug at the corner of her lips was a dead giveaway. No one else would have noticed except possibly Enid - and the rest of the Addamses of course - but you did. It eased that ache that had settled in the hollow of your throat just enough to be tolerable.

“I’m not scared of some nerdy kid,” you grumbled even as you reached over and pulled Wednesday to the ledge of the rooftop. She was going to hate you in a moment. “I’d beat him to a pulp.”

“Do not fly me down to the ground,” Wednesday warned you with her genuine, murderous glare. It was lovely.

“Payback for kissing someone before me,” you said with a cheeky grin as you held her close to your chest and tipped backwards over the ledge.

She didn’t scream, which was an improvement from the past few times you had forced her to fly with you. But she most certainly gripped you with nails that could sever a jugular, and the sting of them digging into your skin was rather delicious. There was no doubt when you landed that you would have crescent shaped wounds on your back. It was okay though; it was hot.

“You’re a menace to society,” Wednesday said as she attempted to fix her now-windswept hair.

“But I’m your menace to society,” you said with a shrug.

She simply grabbed your hand, intertwined your fingers, and started pulling you to the dorm.

It was a quiet walk, and most of yours and Wednesday’s walks tended to be. And as much as you wished for her to talk, to say something to keep you out of your head, you kept your own mouth shut. After all, you certainly had nothing to say, so how were you going to expect her to keep up the entire conversation on her own? It was Wednesday Addams, not Enid; it simply wasn’t realistic.

“So,” you started. “You and Joel, huh?”

“Do not start,” she said with a quick shake of her head.

“You know about Ash,” you grumbled, “why can’t I know about him?”

“Because I wasn’t the one who looked like they would murder the other one.”

“You know I have issues,” you said with a huff. “Besides, I didn’t do anything!”

“I will not be the cause of a murder,” Wednesday said as she squared her shoulders. “At least not this one.”

“Don’t worry, darling, we’ll find you someone worthy of your murderous hands,” you said.

“You’re being ridiculous,” she huffed, but nonetheless stepped closer to you until her arm was pressed against yours.

“But like, back to you and Joel.”

“Do not-”

“-hey kid.”

Both you and Wednesday slowed to a stop before turning around to see who had called out. A police officer was quickly approaching. Your eyes instantly fell on the way his hand was resting on his gun. It was too dark outside for anyone to come by and see what was happening, if anyone came by at all. As discreetly as possible, you pulled Wednesday slightly behind you until you were between her and the cop.

“Miss Smith?” He asked, his eyes on you.

“I go by Johnson,” you said quickly, your eyes darting between his gun and his face.

“I have orders to bring you in for some questioning,” he continued as if you hadn’t just corrected him.

“About what?” You asked. Behind you, Wednesday squeezed your hand.

“You were at the Pi Beta Phi party last night, correct?” He asked.

“Yeah?” You said slowly; an uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. “Why?”

“Two young men were found murdered this morning,” he said with a raised brow. His hand tightened around the gun. “Witnesses say you got into an altercation with them during the party.”

“Shit,” you sighed.

“I need you to come with me for questioning,” he said with a shrug.

“Am I under arrest?”

“Not at this time,” he answered a little too quickly.

You turned your head just enough to look at Wednesday, who was glaring at the cop without the least bit of shame. In other circumstances you would have admired it, joined in, even. But now? No, she needed to behave and you very much needed to get him away from her. There was no way he was going to treat a Latina properly, with or without witnesses.

“Call Señor Moreno,” you said as you stepped back, “and I’ll see you at the dorm.”

Wednesday gave you a singular nod before letting go of your hand so you could finally walk off with the officer. She looked furious, but more importantly she looked scared. It always appeared differently on Wednesday; she straightened her shoulders and held her chin higher than usual. You didn’t blame her, you were scared too. But you hoped she would just head home and wait for you.

The police officer opened the back door of the cruiser and helped you in; it was far too tight of a space for you and your unharnessed wings, but you supposed you could make do. He didn’t say a word as he got into the driver’s seat and sped off. You barely had time to see Wednesday through the window as you passed, heading straight for the police station.

You thought back to the previous night on the drive. They had been pricks, and you didn’t even feel the least bit sorry that they were dead. But you hadn’t done it and everyone knew it. You had been with someone the entire night aside from maybe five or 10 minutes, and how could you have killed two people in that time? At a party? It wasn’t possible.

They’re targeting you, the voice in your head said tauntingly. They know you have a record. True, but it hadn’t been you. Everyone knew it, and the police would know it soon enough too. They were just going to ask their questions, realise you were innocent, and let you go back home as if nothing had ever happened.

The sounds of the station were enough to have your skin crawling when you finally arrived; your last experience hadn’t been a pleasant one. You could almost even feel the sharp sting of Erin’s fist again. But you stood tall and followed the officer, letting him lead you to a small interrogation room that was too tight and had your head reeling.

“Have a seat, kid,” he said before pulling his own chair up. You sat quickly.

“Gonna read me my Miranda Rights?” You asked before he could even get settled.

“You’re not under arrest,” he said with a shrug, “you’re free to go at any time.”

“If you end up arresting me without reading me my rights, you’ll lose a case.” You sat back and crossed your arms over your chest. Cool it, you thought to yourself, you’re sounding too defensive.

Don’t cool it, the voice argued back, make it worse.

“I can tell this isn’t your first rodeo,” the officer said as he mirrored your position.

“It’s not,” you said; you readjusted your jaw and broke eye contact first. “Please ask your questions so I can go home.”

“Did you have an altercation last night with Mr. Burton and Mr. Holland?” He asked, getting right into it.

“I got into a fight with two frat boys last night, yeah,” you nodded. “But I didn’t stop to ask their names.”

“What was the fight about?”

“They were being homophobic pricks to my friends,” you said. “As well as throwing around a few choice insults about Outcasts.”

“So you started the fight?” He wrote something down on a piece of paper. You did your best not to look.

“They started the fight when they called my friends faggots,” you corrected. “I only retaliated physically after they threw an insult at me as well.”

“But you started the physical altercation?” He asked as he looked up at you.

Lie, the voice in your head said. It’s a trap. But you didn’t want to lie; if you could tell the truth and prove that you hadn’t done anything, then they would let you go. That was how it was supposed to work, right? Innocent until proven guilty? You hadn’t done anything wrong and you knew it, you weren’t going to let them just take you down a second time.

“I threw the first punch, that’s correct,” you said with a nod, immediately clenching your jaw to try and ease the anxiety bubbling up in your chest.

“And what injuries did you inflict on them?” He pushed.

“I cold cocked one of them, headbutted the other,” you started with a sigh, thinking back to what had happened. What had you done to them? “A few more punches.” Oh yeah. “And I kicked one of them in the balls.” You had to fight not to smile at the memory.

“You kicked him in the testicles?” The officer confirmed with an uneasy face.

“Yes sir,” you said simply, “pretty hard, actually.”

He squirmed in his seat and exhaled harshly through his nose.

“Can someone corroborate that story?” He asked.

He doesn’t believe you.

“A lot of someones,” you said quickly. “We all live in the same dorm, I can give you their names.”

The officer nodded and started jotting on his piece of paper. At the go ahead, you gave him the names of everyone you thought wouldn’t be targeted by the police; you made sure not to mention Wednesday, Bianca, or Yoko. If anything were to go downhill, they would be the first to be brought in for questioning. No, you would rather die than have the cops after them.

“And do you have an alibi for the entire night?” He asked after getting everyone’s names and numbers.

“Those same people,” you said with a gesture of your head toward the sheet of paper. “I was with at least one of them all night.”

“And after the party?” He asked.

“We all left at the same time and went home,” you said. “And I slept with my girlfriend all night.”

“And all of these people will tell me the same thing?” He said with a raised brow; he still didn’t believe you. “That you were with them at the party and after?”

“Yes,” you said with the utmost confidence you could manage to convey. “Because it’s the truth.”

The officer sat back in his chair again and stared at you. He’s testing you. You knew that, you could tell, but he wasn’t going to win. You had nothing to hide. There was nothing they were going to find, and you were going to go home and go to sleep with Wednesday, just like every other night. They weren’t going to trick you like they had after Nicky.

“That’s all the questions I’ve got for you tonight,” he finally said, causing your shoulders to visibly fall. “If I have any more I’ll give you a call.”

“Yes sir,” you said with a nod as you stood up from your seat. The officer did the same. “Thank you.”

“Hey kid,” he said before you could start walking down the hall; you stopped and looked him in the eyes. “For the record, I don’t think you did it.”

“You don’t?” You asked incredulously.

He’s lying.

“I knew those boys,” he said with a shrug, “they were always causing trouble.” You nodded once in acknowledgement. “Go on home, it’s late.”

“Yes sir,” you said softly. “Thank you.”

He nodded at you and gave you a polite smile before gesturing forward, following you through the hallway until you were at the reception. You gave an awkward smile and wave as you exited the station and inhaled the crisp winter air. It stung, but at least it wasn’t suffocating.

He was lying, the voice said, he believes it’s you.

“Shut up,” you mumbled to yourself as you made your way down the street, heading directly to the dorms.

You very much needed a long night’s rest. Wednesday had better give you that kiss.

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

Taglist: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @alexkolax @thenextdawn @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot @the-night-owl-blr @natashasapphic @elliesbabygirl @alilbitlesbian @irish-piece-of-trash @rainbow-love4ever @audigay @bakugounuggets @myfturn @rockwyn @bigbadsofty07 @andsoigotabutterfly @smromanoff @notheoneforlove @karsonromanoff

[dollfacedsl1ut]

Can I get a gp!mina with yandere promo 1 and 27?

prompt + “I’m doing this out of love” + “just take it”

content : abduction, groping, slight nipple play, dubcon

a/n : YALL college has been kicking my ass I’m so sorry pookies :((

૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <

The whole car trip was silent, you’re head rested on the window as you snored softly, car should’ve stopped by now, the party was only 12 miles away from your house, but the “party” mina was really taking you to was so much more twisted and stomach churning. When you eventually woke up it was midnight, your brows furrowed as you glanced over your shoulder seeing Mina driving whilst tapping her manicured nails on the steering wheel, you started to panic “where the fuck are we going Mina” a smile crept on her face “oh you’re awake-“ she turned the radio down as she squeezed your thigh tightly “don’t worry about where we’re going it’s just a trip” her hand started stroking your thigh softly as she retreated her hand before placing it back on the steering wheel “Mina take me home- I thought we were going to a party” “oh but we are y/n it’s my party but it’s not what you’re used too” she giggled as she turned into a eerie part of the woods following a trail, you tried to reach for your phone in your purse to find it missing “where’s my phone- mina this sick joke isn’t funny” you held out your hand expecting your phone to be returned “no one’s joking y/n we’re going away from civilization for a bit” “but what about my family and my other friends… you can’t just take away everything and everyone I’ve loved” tears began to fill your eyes as your bottom lip wobbled “you’re making this seem bad, I’m doing this out of love y/n why don’t you understand” the car finally stopped at a large cabin it looked like it could remodeled into a nice 2 story cottage, but it still gave off a eerie vibe, Mina got out the car as she pulled you out your seat, knowing you’d refuse to come inside the cabin “we can’t just leave our lives and move away from everyone” Mina groaned as she pulled out something from her front pocket.. it was your phone, she handed to you smiling, when you tried to turn it on it had no service, you also realized your SIM card wasn’t inside your phone either… she must’ve took it out and did something with it “you must be wondering about your SIM card don’t worry I threw it out the window a few miles back, and don’t worry about your parents i typed a lengthy text stating you decided to travel the world for a while and would break off all contact” you Jaw slacked hearing her, she really thought this through, her hands rubbed your shoulders as she pulled you close by your waist, you easily felt her bulge on your belly even if it was covered by many layers of clothing “don’t you love me y/n” these feelings were overwhelming you didn’t know what you felt sadness??, happiness??, it was all confusing “even if you don’t love me we can learn How to love each other even if it kills us…” you felt her smile at the end of the sentence you knew she’d kill you for not loving her, maybe even for falling in love with someone else, you felt Mina’s hand trail to her pants as she unbuckled them her bulge throbbing against your thigh, she lead you to the couch forcing you in her lap “you feel that y/n” her thick cock was against your ass just twitching you swore you felt some precum soak through her boxers, her hand crept to your breast as she kneaded them roughly, you tried to pull away but Mina was just too strong, her nail clawing at your sensitive nipples, your panties dampening as she toyed with you it just felt too good to ignore, you haven’t been touched like this by anyone in a long time, her hands crept to your your thighs as she yanked your panties off, the cold air adding to your arousal, her cold fingers rubbed your clit as she bent you over lining herself up “just take it y/n don’t try to fight me” you complied easily there was nothing else you could do, you couldn’t run away, call for help or anything, submitting was your best choice, well at least for right now right???

[heich0e]

the heart is but a winding road p.1 - shouto todoroki/f!reader (1.3k) pro-hero shouto, we're talkin late 20s early 30s-ish, this independent bachelor turned begrudging father figure fic was almost certainly inspired by buddy daddies, pure fluff, sho is about to make a new bff who happens to be 5 years old much to everyone's surprise

YOU ARE HERE - p.2 - p.3 - p.4 (upcoming)

It’s not that Shouto wouldn’t make a good parent. Quite the opposite really. It’s just that after his tumultuous upbringing, he’s more at peace with the idea of spending his adulthood independently. He’s a bit awkward with kids anyway. Doesn’t know how to talk to them. The idea of having one toddling along behind him 24/7 makes him kinda itchy and uncomfortable, like when sweaters are made with synthetic material and get put through the dryer.

His friends often tell him he’ll probably change his mind as he gets older. His family does too. But he keeps getting older and his stance stays the same. Fuyumi gets married and starts having kids first. Natsuo and his partner eventually adopt as well after trying for a few years. Denki elopes on a trip abroad and has three kids before their graduating class has even hit 25. Kirishima is next. Momo. Sero. Slowly, everyone Shouto knows is settling down and getting married and starting families.

And he just… doesn’t want that.

“‘Scuse me.”

Shouto is staring at a puddle in the middle of the street one afternoon, lost in his thoughts. It’s just stopped raining, and everything around him on the city street is soaked as the water slowly pools and slithers away into the storm drains. His phone is in his hand, open to where Uraraka has just sent a text to the old class 1-A group chat to announce she’s having her second baby.

Shouto turns towards the sound that interrupted his swirling thoughts, and a pair of wide eyes gazes up at him from roughly thigh-height. 

“Yes?” the man asks, polite but a bit clipped, as he stares down warily at the child by his feet.

The kid probably wants a picture, he realizes. Even out of his Pro Hero suit he’s still fairly recognizable, and it’s a common occurrence. He’s got a baseball cap and mask on today though, and really hadn’t wanted to be spotted.

“Uhhh, uhmm…” the kid stammers, tugging at the hem of their little yellow rain jacket.

Shouto sighs a little.

“Do you want a pho-“

“Littering is bad!”

The child’s hands are balled up into determined little fists at their sides, their eyes squeezed closed like they mustered all their strength to say the words.

And Shouto is… speechless.

“Uh,” he falters, uncertain what the hell is even happening. “Yeah?”

The kid's eyes open again, and this time they look more resolved than they had a moment prior. Less friendly, too.

“So why’d you LITTER?”

People walking by on the sidewalk are starting to stare now, and Shouto gets that itchy, uncomfortable sensation that he hates as he feels the prickle of their eyes on him.

“What are you talking about?” he asks the child nervously, tugging his cap down a little further over his face.

The kid puffs out their cheeks indignantly.

“You dropped this garbage on the ground back there.” Clutched in the child’s tiny fist is a slip of paper—a receipt, Shouto quickly surmises. His receipt from the shop he’d just visited, which must have fallen from his pocket when he’d pulled out his phone. The little gremlin waves it around accusatorially. “And you didn’t pick it up! That’s littering.”

Shouto crouches down to meet the kid at eye-level, hoping that, if nothing else, it will stop raising its voice if he gets a bit closer.

“That was an accident,” Shouto tries to explain—tries to deescalate the situation—but the look on the child’s face doesn’t soften in the slightest. The worst part about all of this is that Shouto does actually need that receipt. He eyes it for a moment, contemplating his next move, and then he sighs. “Can I have that back?”

“No,” the kid answers immediately. “Littering is a crime and this is my eminence.”

“Your what?” the man asks flatly.

“My eminence,” the kid replies, turning their nose up at him like he’s the one being foolish.

Shouto blinks blankly at the knee-high pain in his ass.

“Nao! Nao!”

A startled, frantic voice makes Shouto’s head turn on instinct—the panic igniting a sense, an alertness, that’s been long-engrained in him.

He spots you down the road, an umbrella in your hand and a flustered but relieved look on your face, racing towards him.

Him? 

Shouto is confused for a moment, until he remembers he’s not alone.

“Mama!” the present bane of Shouto’s existence melts into something unrecognizable to the thorn they’d been in his side only a moment prior—their tone sweet and excited when they spot you jogging over.

“Nao-chan,” you breathe, falling to your knees on the sidewalk and wrapping your arms around their little yellow-raincoat clad body, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Mama, I caught a criminal!” the child, who Shouto can only assume is named Nao, says excitedly as they point an eager finger in his direction.

You turn and face Shouto with a startled look on your face.

This day is really not going his way.

Your cautious eyes scan Shouto for a moment, understandably wary considering your child just proudly labelled him a criminal, but he sees a flicker of recognition kindling behind your gaze that melts away your initial look of mistrust. Begrudgingly, he reaches up and loops a finger under the edge of his mask, tugging it down to his chin to reveal his face.

Your lips part, then close again.

“Nao-chan, I think you made a mistake,” you say softly to the child tucked against your side.

“Nuh-uh, Mama! I caught him littering and I got eminence!” 

“Evidence, baby,” you correct the child gently.

“Yeah, that!”

You squeeze your eyes shut, looking vaguely mortified, and huff out a little laugh.

“I’m so sorry,” you say to Shouto, an apologetic grimace on your face, “he’s been obsessed with the recycling hero lately. It’s all he talks about.”

Shouto eyes the child, the boy, at your side. He’s familiar with Reductro, the Recycling Hero, but only vaguely. He’s been working with the education branch of the Hero Commission for the past few years, teaching kids to minimize their waste and promote taking care of the environment, and the two have met in passing a few times through work and the like. Shouto had no idea he had these kind of die-hard fans.

“You like Reductro?” Shouto asks the kid curiously.

The little boy’s face lights up.

“He’s the best!”

“What’s so cool about him?” Shouto asks, genuinely interested.

“He came to my school last week and he helps to get plastic outta the ocean!” The little boys eyes sparkle as he replies. “He took a gillion plastic bags out of the bay last year!”

Shouto purses his lips. that is pretty cool.

“Nao, give the nice hero back his receipt now, please,” you urge your son, seemingly eager to end this ordeal amicably. 

The little boy squints up at Shouto’s face, shuffling a bit closer. “You’re a hero?” he asks skeptically.

Shouto nods. “I’m Pro Hero Shouto.”

The little boy’s jaw gapes, and Shouto feels a little swell of smugness in his chest. He’s the number three hero after all, the kid must have heard of him.

“Do you know Reductro?”

The swell of his hubris deflates immediately. 

A few more words are exchanged as Nao—Naoyuki, age 5, likes Pro Hero Reductro and dislikes broccoli, as Shouto comes soon to learn—returns his misplaced receipt and you apologize again for your son’s overzealousness. With a few polite bows and one last apology for good measure, the three of you part ways—Naoyuki’s little rain boots thumping along the sidewalk as the two of you depart hand-in-hand.

Shouto looks down at the paper in his palm after you’re gone, unable to shake the foreign feeling that’s crept over him, and curled itself into his chest underneath his ribs. He clasps his fingers around the troublesome receipt and shoves his hand into his coat pocket as he sets off in the direction of his apartment.

He keeps the little slip of paper tightly in his grip the entire way home.

[ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her]

Someone You Can Build a Nest In was, in fact, pretty good, but it went in a different direction than I was hoping for and I'm not sure how to feel about it.

The story follows Shesheshen, a solitary shapeshifting monster who hunts the travelers and merchants that pass through her territory, along with the occasional monster hunters who come to slay her. She is rather lonely, and reminisces fondly and lovingly about her mother, who was slain when she was young, and her father, whose body she grew inside and who she ate her way out of when she was ready to be born. On her hunts, she keeps an eye out for someone who might make for a similarly loving parent to plant her own eggs in. After a close encounter with some hunters while in a roughly human shape, Shesheshen is nurses back to health by a kind woman who has mistaken her for human, and promptly falls head over heels. Before she can get around to explaining her true nature and enquire about how her newly beloved would feel about being a parent, they are both drawn into a new and concerted effort to hunt down the local monster - Sheshen herself. Hijinks, of course, ensue.

The thing that immediately captured me when I started reading was how well the narration captured Shesheshen's fundamental inhumanity while still making her layered, complex, and intelligent. Her visceral emotional reactions are shaped by her biological nature as a predator, and these emotions lead to distinctly inhuman values and morals - Shesheshen places no intrinsic value on human lives and feels no compunctions whatsoever about eating sentient people. Her love and lust are consumptive in nature, and she romanticizes this. The fact that she cannot have her cake and eat it too is something she has difficulty dealing with. But she's also capable of a great deal of sympathy and empathy for specific humans, and the love she has for the father she ate causes her to care a great deal about consent - she doesn't want to consume out of love someone who doesn't want to be consumed.

In addition to her psychology, Shesheshen's physiology is also excellently inhuman and conveyed in great visceral detail, and the way her body functions is very interesting. My favorite parts of the book are the introduction and the denouement, because these are the areas where her psychology and physiology receive the most undivided attention. They aren't ignored throughout the rest of the book by any means, but they take a backseat to the plot, which is why I feel a bit conflicted about the book as a whole. I was really enjoying the in-depth character study of the introduction, and would've really liked to have the whole book be in that vein.

The plot, to be clear is not bad - it's honestly quite good, and it delves heavily into themes of generational and familial trauma, self-sacrifice, the normalization and romanticization of profound harm, and the difficulty of growth and self-actualization, all while being fairly entertaining and well-executed as a story. I think its themes were a bit heavy-handed in places, and I think some of its exploration was hobbled and flattened by the book's queernorm setting, but I won't relitigate that old argument here. It was suitably gripping and solidly entertaining.

I think the central relationship was solid and compelling, though again, I would've liked it more if the whole book had been focused on a deep exploration of their characters and dynamics. There's a lot of rich ground to the basic premise of "monster falls in love with human, wants to express that love in a way that is actively dangerous/horrifying to the human, doesn't know how to talk about it", and the story layers additional complexities onto that dynamic that are very compelling, but for as much of that interesting ground that the book explored, it left plenty more untouched. One detail that I did find both novel and enjoyable is that both the love interest Homily and Shesheshen herself are all but explicitly sex-averse asexuals by human standards, which is something I have not encountered in a lot of media. The exploration of that experience is not particularly deep because, again, queernorm, but it is present and it was compelling.

This was a really unique and compelling read, though, and I expect it to be one that stays with me. Given my own interest in body horror and inhumanity (shameless plug for Memoirs of a Flesh Eater in the notes), I wouldn't be surprised to see some influences from this book in my own writing going forward.

On the whole, I definitely enjoyed this book and would definitely recommend it, but not without a few warnings. Body horror is a constant element in this book; Shesheshen's shapeshifting is purposely off-putting, and she eats people. This is described in substantial detail. Also, there is a lot of parental and familial abuse depicted, much more than you would expect from the basic premise, so go in prepared. On the other hand, though, if you're looking for a true gothic horror tragic toxic doomed romance or a heavy character study that really plumbs the depths of an inhuman psyche, you will probably be frustrated by how close it comes to being that without actually being that.

[dcxdpdabbles]

I recently had a dream that wouldn't leave me alone so I feel the need to share it with someone else.

I can't remember the name of the fic that had been rereading at the moment but it's a crossover DC/DP/MLB. In the fic Danny, Damien and Marinette are called the three headed beast. At the time I was also reading a fic with Captain Marvel and I got it stuck in my head that what if Danny, Marinette and Billy were the three headed beast and Damien was their baby sibling.

Like hear me out they were made by Ra's without even Talia knowing. He wanted to raise his potential heir without even his daughter interfering. When the three are about 7 some magic bs with a Lazarus portal happened resulting in them living in a separate dimension for decades away from Ra's before being de-aged and sent bad under their grandfather's thumb (honestly I don't really remember what happened, my dream confused me). Once back they quickly jump ship and fake their deaths making sure nobody's are left to try and revive.

Roughly 2-3 years later Talia had Damien. I don't remember why but he knew about the triplets and had been on multiple family bonding trips with them without Ra's or Talia knowing so when Tim said Bruce was alive he just said ok, called his older siblings sounding sad and said find him. And then I woke up (and thought about it a lot).

Sorry for the rant this idea just wouldn't leave me alone.

I can just imagine Phantom and Marvel being entirely different people. Like Captain Marvel doesn't happen until after leaving the league neither does the portal incident so both Phantom and Marvel are completely different heros. The three went their separate ways once out of the league, yes they love each other (and the baby sibling they occasionally pop in on and kidnap for a few weeks to month to for adventures in dimensions that have different time flows) but they are grown adults they have their own lives they want to lead and they definitely haven't needed a parent in decades.

Anyways I'll stop now I just need to share this.

That's honestly such a cool dream. I don't read a lot of Miraculous Ladybug crossovers with DC but I do know the show.

It's interesting how all of them would be extremely powerful for their respective hero personas, but no one would link them as the Three Head Beast.

Also since Danny and Billy would be different heroes, I like to think that maybe Danny would have become more like a meta-human instead of a halfa. Maybe it was due to all his dimension-hopping as I can see him being the triplet that would enjoy exploring the Infinite Realms.

Danny has wanders lust- he hates lingering in one place too long so he is always on the move, always wanting to see new worlds and new timelines.

Maybe he would become Clockwork's human lesion as he can't be King. He happily goes to the living realms of the timelines Clockwork needs him to observe for the stars.

Danny believes the stars are a reminder of his freedom because it's one of the first things he saw the day they faked their deaths. He loves seeing new constellations and can't wait to jump lines again to discover new ones.

Billy meanwhile would fall into Magic again but this time it would be his own magic. He has the highest potential in magic to make him a candidate for the Wizard, but his past of being in Ra's thumb mucked up his purity soul bit.

Still, he finds out that "You're a Wizard, Billy" while traveling dimensions and unlike Danny chooses to stay in a lot of them for long periods just learning all he can of magic.

Marinette, unlike her brothers, is much more willing to stay in one place. Yes, she'll sometimes join them on trips or go looking for an adventure but she wanted to build a home. Danny and Billy see it as a cage, far too used to Ra's locking them up to not get itchy to move about, but she saw it as having control.

She picks her house. She picks the dimensions. Marinette is the one that decides when and where she wants to go. Nothing is bigger "I made it out. I survived you" then staying in their native dimension with Ra's on the other side of the world. If he finds her and tries to bring her back, welp she escaped before she can do it again.

But she didn't want big adventures or conflicts with Ra's, she was comforted. So Marinette opens a bakery in France, living as mundanely as possible but with years of deadly training under her skin and a strong link to Spirits.

Marinette didn't get her Kawami when the Guardian needed to pass them on, because she wasn't there, but years of Lazarus Water, Ectoplasim of the Infinite Realms, and just her aura she can see them.

Alongside thousands and thousands of Spirits that are everywhere. Some get attacked by her and her little bakery. Marinette allows them to live with her and respects them and their domain, so it's not really a surprise when they start bestowing small Blessings on her. She may not possess a miraculous that powers her up but she has a bag of tricks that are close and her own training that practically makes her a miraculous holder anyway.

And that's them the three heads of the Ra's Three-Headed Beasts- monsters, killers, weapons from birth- who lived on as what they wanted.

An explorer with a love of stars.

A mage with a love of study.

A Baker with a love of everyday life.

One day, when a little ninja wanders into Marinette's bakery on a break from his first real mission, the three gain a new love for their little brother.

Damian may not understand his older siblings desire to not be a cape but he respects them all the same. He still trains every day in the hopes of one day besting them but not to prove his worth.

Only to make Danny, Marinette, and Billy proud.

[lifeofmarvvel]

Some Facts and Headcanons about the Blythe kids' appearances

Including how tall I think they are in relation to each other and who they look the most like

Jem

We know that Jem has Anne's red hair but Gilbert's curls as well as his eye color (hazel). He's said to be tall, have Anne's nose, Gilbert's mouth (and probably smile), and "the only one of the family who had ears nice enough to please Susan" (RV)

Pretty much, he's a good mix of Anne and Gilbert

The AoGG wikia also kinda roasts him by adding "Although not as handsome as his brother, Walter, or his best friend, Jerry, Jem grew up to be a good-looking young man" (rip lol, why'd they go with 2 comparisons on his looks in one sentence)

He's also decently tall, though it doesn't specify any comparisons in how tall. I'd say probably a solid 5'10 or 11.

Walter

He's considered the "handsomest of the Ingleside children" with straight black hair, and dark grey eyes.

Given that Anne also has grey eyes (though more green-gray, iirc), and the fact that he doesn't look like any known relative, I feel like there's a chance he looks like either one of Walter or Bertha's siblings (if they had any at any point) or one of their parents, his great-grandparents

As for height, I feel like he was always close in height to Jem growing up, only an inch or two shorter. They end up being roughly the same height by the time they stop growing

Nan

We find out exactly who Nan looks like in the series! During Anne of Ingleside, we find out she looks just like her Grandma Blythe. Consequently, she looks a lot like Gilbert, too -- the most of the daughters to look like him, in fact

She has straight brown hair and brown eyes. Her hair is considered silky, too. Anne appreciates the fact that at least Nan can wear pink out of her daughters

As for height, she's taller than Rilla, but still pretty short. Like, Rilla is barely shorter than her. It's a tough victory but she's not the shortest so  ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

Di

Anne's mini-me! Di has her red hair and green eyes. Her hair is said to have a "swirl to it" so I'm assuming that means she got Gil's curls as well (or at least some waves).

Since she looks so much like Anne, we can likely assume she's also pretty freckled

I like to think she's the tallest of the daughters. Like 5'8 or so, not too much shorter than Jem. While growing up, she was always taller than Nan but not too much -- Nan just stopped growing first

Shirley

Ah, Susan's "little brown boy" aka brown hair, brown eyes, and a darker skin tone than the Blythe kids who got Anne's Very White skin tone. He looks the most like Nan out of his siblings, and is the son that looks the most like Gilbert (just a slight difference in eye color)

We got nothing on his hair texture but I tend to picture him with curly hair too, probably just because of that "pretty close to Gilbert's mini-me" thing I've concluded

Little siblings have a bad habit of being rude and ending up taller than their older siblings. (I say this as an oldest child who has a younger sister that's a good few inches taller than me.) Because of that, I like to think that Shirley ends up the tallest of the Blythe kids. Idk how much taller than Gilbert that would make him, if at all, but he'd be pretty tall, definitely at least 6'2

Rilla

Rilla is a good mix between Gilbert and Anne, just in a different combo than Jem. She has Gilbert's hazel eyes, Anne's freckles, and "ripely, ruddily brown" which is probably exactly what Anne wanted her hair to be when she was younger. So, pretty much, she started auburn/red-haired and turned more brunette as she got older. The red is probably most visible in the summer sun

There also isn't anything about her hair texture, either. I'd say it's either wavy or the type of straight hair that actually does hold heated curls and hairdos better than others

Rilla is the baby and, unfortunately for her, I picture her as the shortest of the family. She's like an inch shorter than Nan. All growing up she probably said stuff like "I'll be taller than both of you!" to the twins and then. it just never happened. Sorry, girl

Fun Facts (aka all this but reworded exclusively)

Jem is the only son with Anne's hair color; he's the only son with Gilbert's eye color

Walter is the only kid with the grey-side of Anne's eyes. He has the darkest hair in the entire family

Nan is the only daughter with brown eyes

Di is the only one with the green-side of Anne's eyes, making her the one with the lightest eyes

Shirley is the only son with brown eyes

Rilla is the only daughter with Gilbert's eyes

None of the children inherited Walter Shirley's blue eyes (probably since the dark-eyed gene is so strong)

None of the children inherited Bertha's blonde hair

And Grandparent Look-Alikes

Jem and Di, because of their red hair, look most like Walter Shirley out of all of their grandparents. Di probably moreso than Jem

We only know John Blythe has brown hair, so it's also possible Nan looks like Grandma Blythe and Shirley looks like John with Gilbert either looking like John or a mix of his parents

Nan is the only grandkid confirmed to look exactly like a grandparent

Walter is an anomaly so who actually knows lol

--

Anyway, I don't really have a reason for posting this other than, hopefully, as a helpful guide to others and as a way for me to make sure my hcs for their appearances are written out so I don't mix up my thoughts in the future. Feel free to add any hc's you might have involving the Blythe kids and their appearances!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not wanting to babysit my nephews?

Before you judge me based on that, I know how bad it sounds - there is a lot of context behind it.

So, I'm 17 and in my last year of high school. My older sister, Hum, 23 and has two kids, both under the age of three. I have a younger sister too, CJ, who is 16.

(The father of Hum's kids is an asshole, which is why he is not mentioned. His family is the same.)

A few months back, around early November, Hum asked CJ to stay with her kids in the car while she went shopping for food (CJ has a boyfriend that lives semi-nearby that she usually stays with on weekends). Now I know that it sounds reasonable, but CJ later told me and our parents that Hum had borrowed money from her (100+) and is yet to pay her back.

Hum does not have a job, and gets money from the government to keep her and the boys healthy and happy (roughly 1100 per fortnight, with a varying payment each week). She often complains about being out of food or not having enough money to buy things that she needs, which I understand but whenever I stay with her she always has a cupboard and fridge full of food.

CJ said no, because she wanted to stay at her boyfriend's house and because it's common for Hum to take a long time to shop and get things that she doesn't actually need. This caused Hum to essentially blow up at her, calling her a slut and saying that CJ only ever comes around anymore when she gets something out of it (which is a lie. CJ has spent probably the most time with Hum and the boys just because she wanted to).

Now, my parents and Hum have always had a rocky relationship from when I was younger, enough so that Hum stopped living at home at roughly CJ's age. They've mended it in the past few years, but Hum does still occasionally argue with them or text them hurtful things.

When CJ told our parents about what Hum said to her, they confronted her about it. It eventually got into the family group chat, where I tried to calm the situation down by defending CJ (Hum proceeded to tell me to "get a dick") and stopped when our father told us to just go to sleep and stop interacting with Hum.

The next day she blocked all of us on everything, and the next time we heard from her again was around Christmas. We have a yearly lunch at my Gran's house, and we weren't sure if Hum was going to attend. She eventually did, and it was fairly civil.

She never formally apologised, as far as I know, but we're all on generally good terms now. During the school holidays just passed, Hum asked me on multiple occasions to come to her house and help take care of her kids for the night.

I used to do it often before the big fight, so the request wasn't unusual, but I still felt weird being around her due to what happened. Hum's told me about what happened at home when I was younger, but she also has a habit of blowing things out of proportion or lying/telling an exaggerated her side of events.

The most recent was a week or so ago, when Hum showed up at my house to take me to hers. I was not aware of this beforehand and tried to say no a few times before caving and going with her. Legally, she has to have a night away from the kids for her mental health, so it feels really bad to deny her that, even though I had holiday homework to catch up on that I intended to do.

Even though I have stayed with Hum for a lot of nights, I feel horrible about myself when I say no to her since I know that that's just how she is. I know that she's getting help for her BPD and trying to be better, but it's just uncomfortable for me to be around her sometimes.

And I love my nephews, but I am not mentally equipped to help take care of them very often. I suspect I have autism, and find it difficult to take care of myself sometimes, especially when I get frustrated (which is inevitable when taking care of a toddler and an almost-toddler). And I was very stressed at the time due to the upcoming school year, so my fuse was a lot shorter than usual.

What are these acronyms?

[coolbeansawrestlingblog]

Real Love Will Prevail

A/N: Hello, so I wrote this years ago when I was still in high school but I'm wanting to get back into writing on here so before I start taking request I just want to go back and edit some of my old stuff and bring it back on here since I totally overhauled and deleted my orignal blog. This was one of if not the first one I wrote so I've got a soft spot for it, hence why I'm bringing it back.

Request: Finn Balor/Reader where the Reader is Stephanie and HHH's daughter and they're trying to force a relationship between the Reader and Rollins

No warnings, just a little bit of bad language and I tried to make it a bit fluffy at the end. Set roughly 2014/2015

Masterlist

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Y/N's POV

"Okay sweetheart, we have the perfect plan for yours and Seth's date tonight." My dad told me on the way to Monday Night Raw.

"Which is...?" I asked responded.

"Once Raw is over, a limo will pick you both up from the arena and will take you to the most extravagant restaurant in the city then afterwards you lovebirds can do whatever you want." My mum told me with excitement in her voice, however, despite that, I felt sick to my stomach when she called Seth and I lovebirds.

The problem is I don't love Seth, I mean he is apart of the authority therefore we have made a friendship but that's all. In reality, I am in a relationship with Finn Balor. It hasn't be for long, just over a few months and it has been the happiest few months of my life. He treats me so well and seems to care for me, very deeply, just as much as I care for him. But as evident, my parents have no idea about our relationship and are trying to force a relationship with me and Seth.

"Okay mum," I sighed as the car pulled into the arena.

Once I got myself sorted in my very own locker room (being the daughter of the authority does have some benefits you know), I was on my way to hair and make up for tonight's show until I heard my name being called.

"Y/N, are you busy or are you simply walking away from me?" I automatically knew that beautiful Irish accent. I smiled to myself and turned around to be face to face my handsome, funny and loving boyfriend.

"Now why would I run away from you, but what are you doing here , not that I'm complaining but shouldn't you be in Orlando?"

"Some NXT talent were invited to come along to Raw and get to see the inner workings and get to know people in the main roster and backstage." Finn said with a smile, god I love his smile, its just so lovely. He wrapped his arm around me and gave a hug and kissed my cheek. "Does your parents know about us yet?" That question crushed my soul, I'm too scared to tell my parents. I can't predict what their reaction would be.

"No," I broke our hug as I spoke softly, "They set up a date for me and Seth tonight, they really want us to be an item." I looked down at the ground, I couldn't bare to see the look on Finn's face. He put his hands on my face to make look into his eyes.

"Look Y/N, I know you are scared about telling your parents about us but you have to tell them before its too late." I knew he was right but I just didn't know what to say. I gave him a weak smile.

"I know, I just have no idea how tell them, I don't want your career and dreams to be ruined just because my parents do not approve of us.

He gave a light chuckle. "Don't worry about me, I am sure it won't be that bad, on the plus side your dad alreadu knows me throught NXT, it's not as if I am a random stranger," He gave me a smile again. I smiled back before reaching up and placing a quick kiss on his lips.

"I suppose, I'll let them know about us," I said after I kissed him. He kissed me again which makes me still feel butterflies.

Seth's POV

Why the hell is Y/N kissing Finn. She is supposed to be dating me, we have our first date tonight. Never knew she was a slut. Does Hunter and Stephanie know about this shit? I have tell them anyway. She's mine. I want her. No else can have her.

"What the fuck is wrong with Y/N ?" I yelled as I stormed into Hunter and Stephanie's office.

"Don't you ever speak about my daughter that way," I could see the anger rising in Hunter's body.

"Hunter, calm down, Seth what happened?" Stephanie was more relaxed but not pleased either.

I took a deep breath, "I saw Y/N kissing that Finn Balor guy from NXT backstage, I thought she was suppose to be dating me." Hunter and Stephanie looked shocked, I guess they didn't know after all.

"We will get to the bottom of this, don't get involved." Stephanie told me.

Y/N's POV

On my way to my parents' office, I got a text from my mum telling me that we need to talk. When I got to the door I knocked then entered the office. I saw that my mum's stern face but my dad being more calm and relaxed. I also saw Finn sitting down, looking down at the ground. Oh shit.

"How did you find out?" My voice being barely audible.

"Seth saw you two kissing each other backstage, may I just say I am very disappointed in you Y/N, we handed you a stable relationship but you wanted someone else, what does he have that Seth doesn't, I expected more from you Y/N and you-"

"Steph, I think that's enough," my dad cut my mum off before she could say anything to Finn, "Look I know you wanted Seth and Y/N to be a couple but she isn't interested and we both know what Seth can be like with women, I know Finn from NXT and he is a great guy, I think we should give him a chance."

"I suppose its only fair," my mum sighed before turning to Finn, "Take care of her or I will make your life a living hell." I can see my dad rolling his eyes at her comment.

Finn, who hasn't said a word this whole time, finally speaks, "I will take the best of care, don't worry I love her." I was blushing at the end.

"Now get out of my office, we have a show to run," my mum said light heartedly.

"That was nerve racking, I understand why you were too nervous to tell them." Finn said once we left the room.

"I know, they can be very scary at times but I'm glad they know. I don't have to hide you anymore." He gave ne a light smile.

"I meant what I said in the Y/N, I do love you, I love you very much." I thought my heart was going to explode.

"I love you too Finn." He smiled then bent down to kiss me. I kissed back, still feeling those butterflies, I want to spend the rest of my life with him, hopefully he will stay with me forever.

[amomentsescape]

Jason is my comfor character so can I request a Jason x reader who comes crying to him cause when she talks to her parents about what upsets her they always blame them for their own feelings and fight starts so their scared to discuss feelings with them and they're mom can't follow through on plans with her cause her job makes her too tired and its always something and they made a plan to visit extended family for a long time then it gets postponed for a long time again and then forgotten about and the only time they seen their extended family on both sides was near there birthday at a funeral when a cousin killed themselves and it feels they can only see their family when someone kills themselves

A Promise to You

Jason Voorhees x Reader

Summary: A fight with their parents drives Reader to see Jason: the one person they know they can rely on.

Warnings: Angst then fluff, mentions of family member suicide

Word Count: 1,136

A/N: Comfort characters are incredibly important, so I hope I wrote him in a light that lines up with what you wanted. Sending you all the love <3

You could feel that familiar burn make its way into your stomach. Your eyes were already watering too despite trying your best to hold them back.

"We'll try to see them next year sometime, okay?" your mother said, her eyes still glued to her phone.

You swallowed roughly and looked down at your hands, noticing the dry skin beside your nails.

Nasty habit, you thought.

"I haven't seen them in so long," you finally responded quietly.

You could hear your father let out a sigh at this.

"Nothin' we can do about it. You'll be fine."

Your eyes began to water once more.

"But the last time the whole family was together was-"

"Near your birthday," your mother cut you off, still refusing to look directly at you.

You looked back at her face, trying to focus on anything other than breaking down right then and there. You tried to steady your breathing.

There was a time when your mother actually tried to talk to you and spend time with you. Although now, that felt like a dream, something that never actually happened.

"It was at my cousin's funeral," you whispered.

Both of your parents looked up at you. Finally.

"Right," was all that was said.

You knew deep down that this conversation was going to end up nowhere, but there was still a part of you that hoped maybe this would be the time they'd actually listen. Maybe this time they'd care.

"It just seems like someone has to die for us to actually see everyone again," you responded a little louder than before.

Whatever hope you had held onto was immediately diminished at your mother rolling her eyes and your father scoffing.

"Jesus, (Y/N). It's not our fault that happened-"

"I'm not saying it was," you shot back. The energy in the room was starting to become uncomfortable.

"Okay, then stop acting like it is!"

You took a deep breath in. "I'm just trying to tell you how I'm feel-"

"How about you do that without blaming us for all of your problems?!" your mother snapped. "It's not our fault the trip was canceled. It's not that big of a deal!"

You could feel your patience wearing thin.

"I'm sorry that the idea of spending time with my family sounded nice for a change! Especially when my own mother won't even acknowledge me when she gets home from work!"

"Do NOT speak to her like that!" your father yelled, his face turning red.

Your mother just looked at you, anger filling in her eyes.

"You don't know what it's like to be exhausted from a full-time job!"

"Well, if I had a child, I would still try to make time for them instead of canceling every plan just because I have to work!"

"Are you saying I'm a bad mother?!"

"You're barely a mother at all when you won't even talk to me!"

Your father stood up at this, walking towards you with a scowl painted on his face.

"Why do you always have to be so goddamn sensitive all the time?! You're not a baby! You don't need us to support you 24/7. You need to learn to grow up!"

At this point, your cheeks were already soaked from all the tears spilled. Your throat ached at trying to hold back the sobs, and you could feel your hands shaking by your sides.

But the worst part wasn't even how pathetic you felt in that moment, crying in the middle of your living room. It was the fact that your parents just stood there staring at you with a look of anger and disappointment etched into their features. You didn't feel loved in that moment- you felt despised.

You didn't want to be here anymore. You needed to get out of that environment before the heavy air suffocated you.

Despite the protests of your parents, you ran out the front door of the home and let your feet take you where they wanted to go.

You didn't know how much time had gone by. It could have been minutes, hours, you didn't care. You knew what you needed, and it was him.

You finally stopped running once the front door to the cabin was right in front of you.

Without even needing to knock, Jason opened the door, his head tilted at why you were there. Not that he wasn't happy to see you, he had just made a rule that you wouldn't go lurking into these woods at night. It wasn't safe for you.

But this worry went out the door the moment he saw your tear stained cheeks and the deep frown carved onto your lips.

He pulled you inside immediately, sitting you down beside him on the couch.

Without even thinking, he wrapped himself around you. And this is what seemed to break the dam.

Your sobs muffled into his chest, and you could feel his arms tighten around your frame. He was almost frightened of what had made you this upset.

He let you cry into him for a bit longer before pulling you back, checking over your body to make sure you weren't physically hurt. When he felt confident you were fine, his eyes met yours and he gave you a questioning look.

You moved your gaze to your lap.

"M-my parents," your voice broke.

Jason seemed to immediately know what you meant by this. Unfortunately, this wasn't the first time that something bad had gone down with your parents. As much as he wanted to take away this problem for good, he knew that you would never allow it. You still loved them at the end of the day.

"They j-just never listen to me," you sniffled. "I just wish they'd h-hear me out for once..."

Jason put his hand on the side of your face, wiping away the new tears that continued to spill from your eyes.

He took your own hand gently in his free one, placing it over his chest. It was what he did whenever he wanted to reassure you or tell you that he loves you.

This managed to get a little smile from you.

No matter what happened, Jason was always there for you. He was the one person you knew who would hear you out and never judge. It was why this was the one place your feet decided to carry you to when your own home felt like too much.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," you whispered to him.

You could see his eyes brighten under his mask at this. He nodded as if to say he felt the same.

He couldn't prevent these things from occurring, but Jason promised to always be there to pick you up. And Jason doesn't break his promises.

[izels-writing]

l. evans — but daddy i love her! [2/2]

Pairing: lily evans x fem!reader

Summary: you finally confess how much you love lily.

Warnings: suggestive language, homophobia, religious homophobia, use of ‘homo’, forced to come out, had to use specific names for cousins sorry😔, panic attack, (let me know if i miss any warnings!)

PART ONE, PART TWO

being sneaky and secretive in a house with no privacy was incredibly difficult. more so when you were trying to hide the true nature of you and lily's relationship. the good part about lily being a girl and a presumed friend, your parents allowed the door to be closed. after all, it hadn't crossed their minds that you and lily would be doing anything of that nature with each other.

lily straddled your hips, pushing her chest to yours as she dipped down to kiss you roughly. her body meshed with yours and it took every power of your being not to flip your positions and push this further. your hands slid down her back, resting on his hips as she slid her hands in your hair. your lips were locked passionately, yet still on alert of anyone who may walk in.

your brother and sister were in their respective rooms, your parents being downstairs. while they had to keep their doors open with their respective partners, you did not. granted, they didn't know lily was your girlfriend.

you both heard footsteps and you threw lily off, sitting up and fixing your hair as lily slid onto the floor. she hit the floor with a loud thump, both of you bursting into fits of laughter to conceal the suspicious noise.

as lily stood up, she rubbed her hip and frowned. "ow.." she muttered, sitting back up on the bed.

"i'm sorry, love," you muttered. you kissed your fingers before pressing them on her hip comfortingly. "i didn't think you'd fall,"

"it's okay," she mumbled, sitting across from you on the bed. she smoothed out her hair and wiped the smeared lipgloss on her face. you quickly did the same.

it was a two days before christmas, and since both you and lily had done your shopping, your days had been spend indoors—specifically in your room. your mother's side of the family was coming in today, something you weren't too excited about.

you and lily both came from working class families. you were by no means comfortable, but you were not so impoverished that you could consider yourselves lower class. it was just the hand you'd both been dealt. however, your mothers side of the family was more than well-off. they were upper middle class—and they all loved to rub it in your faces every time they came to visit.

whether it was your cousins new balenciaga bag or your aunt's new gucci shoes, they always found some way to work it into a conversation. it never made you feel bad, you could care less about that stuff. but your mother always felt terrible not being able to say she owned designer things.

you glanced at the time and groaned, throwing yourself back on your bed. they'd all be here in two hours. and you could wait.

lily laid beside you on her side, her head resting on her palm. she pushed your hair out of your face, caressing your cheek for a second. "c'mon, they can't be that bad," she muttered.

"lily, they're so terrible," you groaned. "it's like they're the royal family without any status,"

lily giggled, kissing your face gently, moving to your jaw slowly. "well, at least you have me, right? we can deal with them together,"

you turned to her and smiled. "yeah, that is a plus to all of this. i just hope they don't notice the way we are with each other," you frowned. "my cousins do not like me, they find anything they can to tell on me to my parents,"

lily chuckled. "noted. now come on, you said we have two hours right?" she smirked.

you laughed. "yes, but we only need one," you replied, before sitting up and engulfing her in a rough kiss.

——

two hours later, the calvary had arrived. you threw on your best outfit—a mini burgundy pencil skirt with a black v-neck long-sleeve. it wasn't fashionable, like your sisters or your mothers dresses, but it was your most comfortable outfit while still being nice. lily wore a sage green dress, it fitting close to her body. this was different from the dress she'd be wearing at the christmas dinner in two days, in that it was your second favorite dress on her and very tight to her body.

you came up behind her as she fixed her hair in the mirror, kissing her shoulder gently. she smiled, turning to kiss you softly.

"mm, not being able to kiss you these next few days is gonna be hell," lily groaned, laying her head on your shoulder.

you rolled your eyes playfully. "yes, the torture,"

lily scoffed. "shut up, you know you'll miss it too,"

you smiled. "i will, but after the 26th, we'll have free reign again," you promised. she sighed and nodded.

you heard the front door open and you sighed, ignoring lily's amused chuckle as you mentally prepared yourself as they stumbled inside. you motioned for lily to follow you as you both exited your room and made your way downstairs.

"y/n! come say hi to your aunt and uncle and your cousins, dear," your mother smiled, putting on the most enthusiastic tone she could. "lily, you as well! come!"

"i already did," lily muttered under her breath. you held your laughter, a huge smile spreading across your face to refrain from bursting out in laughter. she smirked at you subtly.

one by one, you introduced lily to your maternal side of the family. the last two were your cousins alex and taylor—who were a year older and younger than you respectively.

"lily, this is taylor and alex," you said, holding back your scowl as they both eyed lily. whether alex's gaze was flirty or not, you didn't like it.

"it's nice to meet you both," lily said, extending her hand. alex took it enthusiastically, checking her out. taylor nodded and muttered, "same,"

"anyway, let's go," you scoffed. you didn't want to spend another second with those two if it wasn't necessary.

"oh, y/n, dear! why don't you show alex and taylor up to your room? maybe you guys can hang loose?" your father said.

"oh my god, dad, no one says that anymore!" you scoffed. you motioned for the three to follow you, trying your hardest not to glare at your parents—who at the end of the day were just trying to make your family feel welcome.

"so lily, how do you know y/n?" alex asked the redhead. lily, oblivious to his obvious crush, smiled and looked at you before turning to him and replying, "we're best friends from school,"

"so, do you not have a family of your own to spend christmas with?" taylor sneered.

"shut it, taylor," you spat. "ignore her, lils, her mother drank too much when she was pregnant with her,"

taylor rolled her eyes. "whatever, you twat,"

"uhm, anyway, do you have a boyfriend, lily?" alex asked, eying up lily with a smirk.

lily then suddenly caught what you had noticed in the beginning. she paused and glanced at you before turning to alex and nodded, "i do, as a matter of fact,"

"leave her alone, alex," you scowled, pushing the door open to your room as the four of you piled in. "you guys can sit on the floor,"

"y/n," lily mumbled at you in warning. you huffed, "or the bed if you want i suppose," you added in response.

"whatever," taylor and alex mumbled, taking space on your bed as you and lily sat in the bean bag chairs on your floor. you sat by lily, beginning a conversation with her as alex and taylor did the same with each other.

——

christmas dinner soon came by and you couldn't be anymore uncomfortable. the awkward lapses of silence in your room was enough but now an entire dinner with people you disliked? it was crazy.

"and then we went to buy wagyu and they told us they were out! i mean can you believe it? we had to fire her immediately," your aunt scoffed.

your mother nodded, listening to her story but it was clear what she actually thought based off of her tight hold on her fork.

"your house is very quaint," your uncle told your father, who looked uninterested. "have you ever thought of upgrading into a nicer, roomier place?"

your house wasn't even that small. it was definitely slightly above average—they just had a eight room home so it seemed anything less was small to them.

"no, the means haven't come by for it," your father answered politely.

you uncle chuckled. "well, that's why you have to find the means,"

"oh my god," you muttered to lily, wanting more than nothing to leave them all downstairs and go into your room with lily.

"it's okay," lily muttered, going to teach for your hand under the table. but she hesitated and decided against it.

"so, my lovely y/n, how are you doing at hogwarts?" your aunt asked, smiling at you. "what grade or whatever are you in now? i mean how does that work?"

though her tone was nice, you knew she was judging.

"lily and i are both in our sixth year, same as a normal school," you replied firmly. "we've both got straight o's,"

"and what does that mean? i'm not familiar with that stuff," she laughed snobbishly.

"it's like having first class honours, in all subjects," lily explained politely with a smile.

"oh...excellent! my taylor and alex as well! except they learn the important stuff like algebra and literature," she concluded with a smug smile.

"that's great! i personally love shakespeare! have either of you read it?" lily asked both of your cousins.

"what's that?" taylor sneered.

"oh...well, i guess not all the important stuff, huh?" lily replied kindly. you smirked, noticing your aunts slightly infuriated face. merlin, you could kiss her.

your parents muffled their own snicker, while your brother and sister didn't try at all to hide it. even your uncle let out a cough to hide his laughter.

“anyway, do you two young ladies have boyfriends? my taylor just got a boyfriend and they’re just the cutest together,” your aunt bragged.

“yes, i do,” lily answered politely, glancing at you subtly. you shook your head, “no boyfriend for me,” you answered.

“really? what’s your boyfriend like, lily?” your sister asked curiously. “y/n never mentioned it before, i mean she talks about you all the time,”

you and your siblings were close, but given they were closer in age to each other than to you, you had never really told them either. you knew they wouldn’t tell your parents but you were still cautious.

“his names…jay, he’s very kind and funny and sweet and bea—handsome,” lily exclaimed. both of you prayed no one had caught the slip up.

your mother smiled. “he sounds wonderful, dear,”

“well, y/n knows not to date until she finds the right man,” you father joked. “he’s got to be the exact person lily’s describing, isn’t that right, love?”

he looked at you expectantly. you swallowed nervously and nodded, “of course, dad,” you laughed nervously. thankfully, it wasn’t out of the ordinary, given you always acted like this about your love life.

“i’m excited for you, when you do,” your brother answered sincerely. “maybe we’ll finally get you off our hands, i won’t have to buy you anything anymore—your husband’ll be in charge of that,” he laughed.

“as much as i want her to be happy, i’ll be upset when my girls gets married, but i trust they’ll find good men to make them happy—i know you understand,” your father said, looking at your uncle. he nodded solemnly.

“when my taylor gets married, i’m not sure i’ll be able to handle it,” he chuckled.

your heart sunk and your face paled as your father talked. he had a whole life set out for you. how could you go and break his heart? you wanted nothing more than to scream it from the rooftops — ‘i’m gay and in love with lily evans!’ but like always, nothing came out. it was selfish of you to hurt your father this way.

a part of you begun to panic inside, the air leaving your lungs. you were familiar with this feeling. you were going to have a panic attack.

right now.

“excuse me, i’m not feeling too well,” you mumbled. you stood from your chair and dashed upstairs, hearing lily explain that she was going to go check on you. your family paid no mind and resumed their conversation, thankfully so.

as you and lily entered your room, you shut the door behind you—curling up on your bed. tears rushed to your eyes as your heart begun to race and for a moment, you were sure you were about to pass out.

“baby, what’s wrong?” lily asked softly, sitting in front of you, brushing the hair out of your face.

“what am i doing, lily? i wanted to tell him, tell him about you and how i love you,” you rasped out. “but you heard him…it’ll break his heart,”

“i can never tell him,” you breathed out. your breathing quickened and thankfully, lily and you experienced these panic attacks so often about each other that you knew how to calm each other. and thankfully, you and lily knew it didn’t mean the other wanted to break up.

“yes, you can, love. it’ll take time, but one day you’ll be able to tell him,” she said gently. “believe me, i understand. but we can go at our own pace,”

tears streamed down your face. “what if they throw me out? what if i never see them again?” you sobbed quietly. “i love them, i would never want to hurt them,”

lily sighed, sitting beside you and pulling you close. when she held you, touched you even, you felt calmer—always, no matter what. it was her lily evans magic. you began to slow your breathing.

“you won’t hurt them, they love you and eventually, they’ll want you to be happy,” lily whispered. “and happy is being yourself and loving who you love,”

“happy is with you,” you smiled softly.

she grinned. “i was hoping you’d think the same,” she chuckled, kissing your cheek.

“i’m telling them in two days,” you decided suddenly. “i can’t keep living like this, hiding, pushing myself into panic attacks. i just can’t…”

“and i’ll be here for you,” lily mumbled, kissing your head. “every step of the way,”

“thank you.” you said sincerely, bring her lips to yours.

a gasp broke you two apart and you both turned to the door. taylor stood there, eyes wide and mouth hung open.

“you’re…you’re…” taylor stumbled.

“taylor,” you said warningly. “please just listen,” you stood suddenly. she backed up slightly.

“please, don’t say anything,” you pleaded.

she looked at you disgusted. .

“i will, i will, just please don’t say anything,” you pleaded. “i’m begging you,”

she left suddenly, darting down the stairs. you and lily looked at each other wide-eyed, before following after her quickly.

“aunt m/n! uncle d/n!” you heard her shout.

“what is it, honey?” your mother asked.

you and lily rushed into the kitchen, staring taylor down. she glared at you before turning to the entire family table.

“lily and y/n! they’re…they’re…they’re homos, i just saw them kiss!” taylor exclaimed.

all eyes fell on the both of you. your face paled and lily looked horrified, you imagined you did too. you swallowed thickly.

“y/n, is this true?” your mother asked firmly.

you looked at lily, before suddenly grabbing her hand. “lily and i are dating, and we have been for two years now,” you confessed, despite the bile rising in your throat from your nerves.

lily squeezed your hand, looking at your admirably.

your father stood, hands shaking. you cowered under his gaze, but stood your ground. you narrowed your eyes as you noticed your aunt and uncles smirks, like they were somehow better because their kids weren’t gay.

“well, it seems you have things to discuss,” your aunt said. “we’ll be leaving now, we’ll see you on the 25th,” she muttered. quickly, your aunt and uncle, along with taylor and alex made their way out of your home, whispering god-knows-what as they left.

the door shut and the house was silent.

“lily, get your things, b/n will drive you home,” you father spat. “y/n, go to your room,”

“dad, she has nowhere to go,” you pleaded.

“i don’t care! she comes into my home, poisons my daughter?! you’re sinning, y/n!” your father spat.

“no, i’m not! please!” you pleaded.

“she’s poisoning you, y/n. this isn’t who you are, this isn’t what you are,” he spat.

he walked toward lily, pushing your hands away, towering over your girlfriend. “you need to leave,”

lily swallowed and nodded. “yes, sir,”

“no, you’re staying!” you exclaimed, getting between the two. “daddy, you can’t do this!”

“dad, stop,” you sister said sternly. he didn’t bat an eye at her. “lily has nowhere to go, her parents aren’t in the county,”

“they’re sinning, s/n! i could care less!” you father spat. “she has no business being in my house!”

“love, stop,” your mother tried. as disappointed as she looked in you, she hated the way your father could be.

“i said pack you bags!” he yelled at lily, eyes fired up as he glared at lily.

“but daddy i love her!” you confessed, voice raspy, tears streaming down your face.

“she makes me happy. she makes me laugh, she holds my hand when i’m scared, she helps me study, she’s beautiful and smart, she makes me brave,” you continued. “i’ve never felt this way with anyone before! please!” you pleaded, staring into his eyes pitifully.

he made eye contact with you, and suddenly, his eyes softened. nonetheless, his stony demeanor continued.

“dad…” your brother said.

“please, you can’t throw her out,” you said, holding lily’s hand as she stood behind you. “i love her. so much. you can’t do this to me,”

he stepped back. surveying you both.

“it’s a sin,” he repeated again.

“a sin i’m willing to commit if it means i get to be happy with her,” you replied.

your mother, the ever hopeless romantic, smiled softly at you two. her entire demeanor had changed when she heard your confession. “honey, let her stay,” she told your father.

he looked at your mother and his gaze softened even more.

“fine, she can stay. but she won’t be staying in your room and no weird business either, you two will not be alone at all,” he said sternly.

“okay, okay, that’s fine,” you breathed out.

“lily, move your stuff downstairs, you can sleep in the guest bedroom,” he said.

“of course,” she said politely. she quickly left to collect her stuff.

“thank you,” you told your father. “i love you,”

he said nothing back.

——

you sat on your bed, staring at the wall blankly. it was already much more lonely in your room without lily. not that you could sneak down to see her, your parents kept their door open so he could watch you in case you did try.

a knock was heard at your door, you replied a short, “come in,”

you brother and sister walked in, sitting across you at the foot of your bed.

“if you’re here to lecture me, save it,” you said. “mum already did,”

your sister laughed. “i’m not mum, i just came in here to say it’s okay, he’ll get over it,”

“yeah, remember how much he hated s/n’s fiancé? he got over it,” your brother shrugged.

“i don’t think it’s the same,” you chuckled.

“but it can be,” your sister shrugged. “give them time, they’ll come to terms,”

“and if they don’t,” your brother added. “you have us,”

you smiled, a small tear streaming down your face. “thanks,”

“of course, besides i had my time to come to terms,” your sister shrugged.

“you knew?” you asked.

“you look at her the way he looks at his girlfriend,” you sister grinned, pointing at your boyfriend. “nothing gets past me, twat,” your sister chuckled.

“shut up,” you chuckled.

“someone’s in loveeee,” your brother teased.

“i’m just surprised she’s so well-rounded and not concussed,” your sister taunted. “i was sure whoever agreed to be with you would have to be a little out of it,”

you glared playfully at her.

“i know, wonder if she knows about your audrey hepburn phase?” you brother asked smugly.

“do not!” you warned.

“i already did,” he grinned.

you rolled your eyes.

——

“how was break?” mary asked you and lily.

lily smiled, looking at you expectantly. you smiled at mary, “i told my parents,”

“congrats!” peter exclaimed.

“how’d they take it?” remus asked.

“not well, at first,” you admitted. “but after the first three days, my dad stopped glaring at me when me and lily would talk to each other,”

“hey, it’s a start,” marlene said.

you and lily nodded in agreement.

“i’m just glad i don’t have to hide her anymore,” you smiled, turning to lily to kiss her softly. “she’s too pretty to hide,”

“ugh, you two are gross,” dorcas scoffed.

“says you,” you replied, gesturing to the fact that dorcas was sitting in marlene’s lap.

“shut up,” dorcas laughed.

bonus;

as the piano played, you smiled down the aisle as your future wife—lily evans l/n. she looked beautiful in her white, tight gown. her hair was pulled back into a half-up and half-down hairdo with beautiful, light makeup.

you and your father linked arms, after he had smoothed out your own dress. it was slightly longer than lily’s, but just as beautiful.

you two began to walk down the aisle, careful of tripping or stumbling. he, surprisingly, held the brightest and biggest smile on his face as he looked at you.

both of your parents had officially come around a while back, and you couldn’t be happier.

as you reached the end of the aisle, he pulled you into a tight hug, kissing your head. “i’m proud of you, and i love you,”

“i love you too, daddy,” you smiled, tears brimming your eyes. you blinked them back as to not ruin your makeup.

he handed you off to lily, a bright smile on his face as he kissed lily’s hand intertwined with yours.

“take care of my little girl,” he told her sincerely.

“always,” lily smiled, tears brimming her eyes as well. “thank you,”

he quickly returned to his seat, wiping his eyes before anyone could catch the tears filling his eyes. unluckily for him, you and lily had already noticed.

you smiled at her and she returned the gesture, both of you joining your hands—tears filling both of your eyes.

“welcome all, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of these two lovely ladies,” marlene smiled.

you and lily looked happily at your two kids in the front row, one sitting in his seat patiently, while the littlest babbled in james’ lap.

you turned to each other again.

you couldn’t be happier.