#i had to label the child because one of my friends said it looked like a young adult

[sleepypuffincentral]

Drew the purple bunny man

[mrsbarnesblog]

I feel like when reader gets fed up with Rafe not making a move, she tries to go on a date with someone else and it makes him realize that he has to act if doesn’t want to be left with just “baby daddy” label. loved your story

masterlist ko-fi ao3

requests are open

summary: when you have a baby with your ex-friend with benefits, he realizes that he has to talk about your feelings if doesn't want to lose you (can be read as a standalone, but is part two of this fic)

word count: 1.1k.

warnings: ex fwb, baby daddy Rafe, he's really soft and cutesy (i can't help myself, sorry)

Raising a baby with you felt easy. It felt safe and stable because it seeming like you worked perfectly together, never having serious fights and always easily understanding each other. Rafe adored both of you and he was happier than he ever was, even if he was constantly tired from sleepless nights. 

Every time Rafe looked at you holding your daughter, smiling and particularly shining in your post-pregnancy bliss, he felt his heart flattering. You were his. The mother of his daughter, his friend, his family, his girl. 

Then, when you unexpectedly mentioned to him that someone had asked you out, things went south. 

You both hated every second of what was likely your first serious argument, but you were unable to contain your emotions when the situation deeply hurt both of you. 

“I don’t know what you want from me, Rafe! I don’t know what you expect from me when the only thing that I know for certain is that I am the mother of your child!” You screamed at him, blinking away your tears. 

“Don’t say that. You know what I want from you, and I can’t let you go out on dates with some random dudes, Y/N. Like, you have to be joking. We just had a baby, for fuck’s sake!” His hands flew to his hair as he started walking back and forth in the middle of his living room. 

“As far as I’m aware, I’m single, Rafe.” You said it bitterly, bringing your legs closer to your chest and wrapping your hands around them. You wanted to hide because it felt to heavy to be talking about it, especially when you never desired anything more than to be appreciated and loved by the man in front of you.

“So this means nothing to you?” 

“It was not what I said.”

“You said you’re single.” 

“Am I not?” You whispered. “You were horny and had a baby with me. Just admit it.” 

You were looking at each other with emotions and unsaid feelings on the tips of your tongues. It hurt you to say it; it hurt you to realize how easy it was to end everything here and face the reality that you were no one to each other. Tears flooded your vision and you looked down, defeated. 

“I’m sorry.” Rafe whispered back, as the panic started to settle in him. “I’m so so sorry, Y/N. It has never been my intention to make you feel this way, but I promise that you’re much more for me.” He came closer to you, kneeling in front of your shivering body. “Even if it was casual sex at that time, I would've never signed up for a baby with someone who I felt nothing for.” 

His hands reached for your legs, setting them down on the floor and instead moving closer to you. Rafe touched your face, making you look at him through wet eyelashes and you noticed a longing, almost pleading, look in his eyes. 

“I love you. I love you and our little girl, and I don’t want to live like this anymore. I want you. I need you because you’re my best girl—the prettiest, sexiest, most brilliant woman I’ve ever met. I was too dumb to not do it earlier, but I want to have it all with you. I want you both here all the time, with me. You are my family. ”

He left you completely speechless, making you sob harder and lean into his chest, leaving wet stains all over his shirt. You didn't know how you could live in denial for that long, but you realized how desperately you craved to hear these words. How desperately you tried to convince yourself to stick with what you had when the only thing you ever wanted was him.

“Sh-h, baby…” He soothed your hair, holding you closer and allowing you to let go of your emotions. Rafe hated how oblivious he was to your feeling this whole time. Seeing you break down hurt him more than he could imagine and he knew he would do anything to never see that look in your eyes again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, mama. I love you.”

“I l-love you t-too.” You hiccuped, leaning back and wiping your face. Rafe’s eyes stayed on yours when he slowly traced with his thumb your slightly swollen bottom lip and then moved closer. 

He kissed you slowly, passionately, gently biting your lip, as if he were claiming you again and you felt that familiar sparkle in your body that appeared whenever he was touching you so gently. You brought your hands to his shoulders to feel his body closer to yours and he obliged, slightly hovering over you.

Soft crying from the bassinet interrupted you, and before you could even begin to worry about your daughter, Rafe had already pulled away, but not before giving you that promising look and moving in her direction. 

“Hi, pretty girl.” He cooed, taking her in his arms and lifting her up in the air. She looked so tiny compared to him and you felt another wave of tears coming in. “Sh-h, it’s okay. Are you hungry or did you just want someone to hold you, hm?” Rafe placed her on the crock of his arm and started swaying from side to side. Her cries slowly calmed down, as she was looking up at him with big blue eyes. “That’s what I thought.”

“You’re so natural with her, i’m kind of jealous.” You laughed, wiping the leftovers of your tears. Rafe smiled back at you and sat down near you on the couch, wrapping his free hand around your shoulders to bring you closer. 

“Not as good as you. You’re an amazing mom. We love mommy so much, right, princess?” He tickled your daughter's belly and she giggled, looking between both of you happily. “I meant it when I said it, Y/N. I want you to move in. I want to have you both with me 24/7, because I cannot do it like this anymore.” Rafe almost begged, turning his head in your direction. Your eyes searched for his and the look that you saw there made your heart flutter. 

The thing about Rafe was that he was bad at expressing his feelings, but his eyes always showed you what you wanted to know. And now, when there was nothing but pure love and admiration, you knew that it was true. 

“Okay. I want it too.” You smiled, peacefully resting your head against Rafe’s shoulder, as the worry inside of you finally calmed down.

[lnfours]

us. | l.n

summary: and what seemed like fate becomes "what the hell was i doin'?" ; aka time heals all wounds, so they say, but has it been long enough for it to heal the one he left?

warnings: the highly requested part two to ‘august’, use of she/her pronouns, childhood friends to lovers, second chance romance, oscar giving lando advice bc duh, pining, language, lando absolutely word vomiting when it comes to his feelings, fluff towards the end.

‘august’ | listen | masterlist

oscar piastri took pride in being more observant rather than being the life of the party. he much rather preferred to be labeled as the 'wall hugger' rather than the wild child between him and his teammate. he let lando have that role, opting on sitting on the sidelines more often than not.

but tonight, it was completely different. the aussie driver had agreed to hitting the club in monaco tonight to celebrate charles' first home win and his own second place finish. he couldn't shake the feeling that something was going on with his teammate, eyeing him as he sat down in the lounge area the group had gotten for the evening. something out of the normal for the brit.

he decided to take matters into his own hands, joining his friend on the couch. lando sent a tight lipped smile to his teammate, another red flag the aussie picked up on. he wasn't sporting his usual smile, the one that beamed. one of pure joy.

"you feeling alright, mate?" oscar asked, genuinely concerned.

lando nodded in response, "'m good, just a bit tired."

he hummed, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked out at the dance floor of people. the crowd normally lando would be in the middle of, but not tonight.

"gonna make me pry it out of you or are you just gonna tell me?"

lando chuckled softly, letting out a soft sigh, "y'know that new reporter for sky who was in the media pen earlier?"

oscar furrowed his eyebrows in concentration, trying to remember your name, "think so? shit, what was her name?"

"y/n," lando said and oscar nodded in agreement.

"yeah, that's it," the aussie turned back to look at his teammate, "what about her?"

"well, a few years ago, her and i kind of..." lando trailed off, leaving his teammate to raise his eyebrows.

"you two had a thing?"

lando nodded, "yeah, she had a vacation rental next to mine in the states, and one summer we just really hit it off. y'know, we went on dates and eventually it turned into something more, and... oscar, i was in love with her."

the australian was shocked, "did you tell her?"

"i did," lando nodded, swallowing before continuing, "and i was with her when i got the call that they wanted me to join the team, and i just... i fucking left. i left without waking her up and saying goodbye. the best few months of my entire life, falling in love with someone who has never made me feel more loved and appreciated, and it all went down the drain because i fucked it all up."

oscar sat in silence for a minute, processing what the brit next to him had just told him, "well, do you still love her?"

"i never stopped," lando looked over at his teammate, his expression showing the guilt he still felt for leaving that one night, "i don't think i could ever."

"have you told her?"

he shook his head, "pretty sure she hates my guts, so, no."

oscar sighed, "listen, although she has every reason to hate you, i mean, i would too, doesn't mean deep down that she does. obviously, running into you again has probably brought up all of those feelings she worked to get over, but if you really feel the way you're telling me you feel about her, and it seems like you do, you gotta fight for it. you can't just let her slip through your fingers, again, and live a miserable life. nothing's gonna come out of it if you don't work for it."

lando sat in shock at his teammate, blinking at him like a deer in headlights. he had never known oscar to be this wise when it comes to relationship advice. he truly didn't know he had it in him.

"what?" the aussie laughed, "mate, i've been with lily for five years. you think we haven't had our own fair share of ups and downs?"

"no, i'm just amazed that at your age you're so wise." lando joked back, the two of them laughing.

"yeah, whatever," oscar waved him off, "but seriously, i mean what i said."

he nodded, "i know, i just don't know when i should talk to her."

oscar shrugged, "the sooner the better. that way you stop moping around like a sad, lost puppy."

lando jokingly rolled his eyes, pulling his phone from his pocket, "shut up."

his heart hammered in his chest at the thought of messaging you, opening instagram. but, just when he went to open his messages, your profile picture caught his eye at the top of the screen. he tapped onto the story you had posted not long ago, holding it down so it wouldn't disappear as he scanned over the picture.

you were still at the track, posting a picture from one of the offices. a video from your interviews today sitting on the screen, clear that you had stayed late to finish working on them. a caption written out on the photo.

'in desperate need of another cup of coffee'

he was up on his feet before he could even think through what he was about to do. shoving his phone in his pocket as oscar smiled at him softly.

"where're you heading?"

lando turned, walking backwards away from the lounge area, shouting over the bass of the club music playing loudly through the speakers, "'m feeling like having a cup of coffee! thanks for your help, osc!"

oscar raised his glass in a cheers motion to his teammate, watching him turn around and make a beeline for the exit. lily found her way to the lounge area, sitting next to her boyfriend and jabbing her thumb over her shoulder, motioning towards his teammate.

"where's he heading?"

oscar smiled, swallowing the sip of his drink, "going to get his girl."

the night breeze in the monaco air felt nice on lando's skin, a contrast against the overly warm club he had been in. he pulled his phone out once again, searching for a coffee shop that would still be open at this hour. he found one that looked promising after a few minutes of searching, putting in the directions to it and taking off in the direction.

he ignored the hammering of his heart in his chest as he carefully placed the cup in the holders of his car. was it the best idea to show up unannounced with a coffee in hand, especially when he wasn't sure how you felt about him? probably not. but after the conversation with oscar, all he could think about was how he couldn't lose you again. how even after searching for someone to fill the ache in his heart that was put there by his own doing, no one could compare to you. they couldn't ever be you, even if they tried or if he tried to make it work. it wasn't the same.

he parked the car, heading towards the building he knew all the journalists worked in. some of them still hanging around, sending lando smiles but confusion clear in their eyes as his eyes scanned the room.

"do you know where y/n is?" he asked an older man, a guy he had recognized to be your camera man from earlier. the man nodded, pointing towards the room with glass walls. he could see you in the room, your back facing the door. headphones sitting on top of your head, clearly invested in your work. he swallowed nervously, thanking the man before heading towards the room.

you hadn't noticed he entered the room until a hand placing a coffee next to you caught your attention. you slipped the headphones off, placing them on the desk before turning to see who was standing behind you.

he met your eyes, which were also laced with confusion as you spun around in your chair. he sent you a small, nervous smile. the same smile you had given him in the media pen hours ago.

"lando? what're you doing here?" you asked, "and how did you.."

he smiled softly, "saw your story."

"what is it?" you asked, moving to grab the warm cup, "i mean, i like my coffee-"

"with light cream and two and a half sugars. the pink packets, though, not the white ones."

your heart squeezed in your chest, he remembered the way you liked your coffee.

you took a sip of the warm liquid, tasting exactly the way you liked it. you took in a deep breath, meeting his green eyes once again and you swore you were slowly falling in love with him again. it was like you were back at the beach house, back at the exact moment you had realized you were in love with him.

maybe the feelings you thought had gone away after the years weren't truly gone.

your lipstick left a pretty mark on the white lid and he scanned your facial features. in the dim lighting you were still as gorgeous as the day he met you, pretty colored eyes that complimented the color of the strands of your hair. a pair of glasses sitting comfortably on your face, remembering that you only wore them when your eyes were starting to get irritated after a long day.

your voice was soft, "lando, what're you doing here?" you asked again, still confused on why he had come, "i mean, other than dropping off a coffee, which thank you for, by the way, but shouldn't you be out with the rest of the drivers? y'know, celebrating..?"

"well, i was," lando breathed, ignoring how it came out a little shaky, “but, to be honest, i just.. really want to talk to you.”

everything he rehearsed in his head during the driver over here was going out the window with each passing second. the longer he looked in your eyes the more he wished he had never walked out of that house all those years ago. the more it was eating him up inside that he let the best thing he ever had go, that he never told you why.

you sighed, pointing over your shoulder to the screen behind you, “i really have to finish this,”

“it’ll be quick,” he was almost begging. about to get on his knees if he had to, “promise.”

you nodded, your brain yelling at you for agreeing but your heart almost leaping out of your chest at the fact that he was here. standing in front of you. right now. when he could’ve been at the club, wrapped around some other girl. but he wasn’t.

“okay, just, let me grab my things.”

he nodded, biting down on his lower lip nervously as you saved your work and exited out of the editing software. you packed up everything in your bag, pushing the chair in before grabbing your coffee from the desk.

he held out his hand, “here,”

you furrowed your eyebrows in response. he motioned to the bag and you smiled softly, “oh, thanks,”

he nodded, letting you lead him out of the office. you said goodnight to the crew that was left, not batting an eye at the looks they gave you for having the, arguably, most sought out driver on the grid tailing behind you.

once you were outside, he walked next to you. matching your pace as he looked over at you, “so, uhm, how’re they treating you at sky?”

you nodded, “good,” you smiled softly, “didn’t expect i’d work in the same sport as you, to be honest.”

“you’re telling me you didn’t follow me here to make me realize i’ve been missing out all this time?” he joked and you laughed, shoving his shoulder with yours.

“shut it,”

“sorry, too soon?”

you chuckled, “forever might be too soon.”

he chuckled with you, unlocking the doors to the mclaren. he opened the passenger side door, letting you sit down in the seat. you took your bag from him and smiled, a silent thank you, before he closed the door for you and rounded the front of the car to get in on his side. he started the car, looking back over at you, "hungry?"

you hummed, "starving."

"perfect," he said, putting in the directions for a place he knew you'd like. you rubbed your lips together nervously, watching the monaco lights pass by you. the breeze was nice, something you could get used to.

you cut through the silence that fell over the two of you, speaking over the soft music he had put on for the drive, "so, what did you want to talk about?"

he looked over at you, the red of the stoplight illuminating his face. he had grown into his features, but the boyish things about him was what you loved. the way his dimples deepened the wider his smile was, the moles and freckles that littered his skin like stars, and you had noticed the small scar on the bridge of his nose. one that wasn't there years prior, but you had grown to love. you silently hoped he'd tell you the story sometime. wanting to know every detail of his life the past few years, the years you spent watching from the sidelines.

"about what happened," he said, the light turning green and his attention fixing back to the road, continuing to drive, "i feel like i owe you a very long, detailed, explanation."

you nodded as he pulled into a parking lot, "okay, yeah," you breathed out softly, "sure."

he parked the car, turning the engine off before looking back at you. you turned to face him, giving him a soft smile as he looked at you, eyes dancing around your face before he took a deep breath.

"listen, i know it's been a while and i really wouldn't blame you if you hate my guts, but i just... can't. i can't pretend that i've lived in a world i'm completely satisfied with. and i can't bring myself to fall in love with someone else because no matter what, i find myself wishing i was with you, at that stupid beach house where i first felt what love truly felt like."

you sat in silence, taking in his rambling thoughts. this conversation definitely wasn't going as well as he had rehearsed it in his head, but it was too late to turn back now. he was sitting here, spewing every emotion he's felt over the past couple of years in front of you. it's how he truly felt. no filter, no hoops to jump through, just pure emotion and longing and hints of regret, and true apologies.

"you're the first thing i think of when i wake up and the last thing i think of before i go to bed, and hell, sometimes i even find you in my dreams because for a while that was the only place where you and i co-existed. and i'm so fucking sorry for how i left you, how i packed up and moved on with my life without even considering how you would feel. it makes me sick to my stomach to think about the fact that i've fucked up the part of my life that felt normal. that felt real, and all because i was too much of a coward to tell you what was going on. too scared to drag you into all of this,"

he was still rambling and you couldn't help the way your heart hammered against your chest. the moment you had wished for all these years finally unfolding in front of your eyes and you couldn't help the tears that were starting to prick your eyes.

"but now, you're here, and i'm here, and... holy fuck i'm still so in love with you."

his throat bobbed, swallowing down the nerves as you watched him. you were speechless, unsure how to respond to everything he had just spewed to you. your heart was caught in your throat, the tears closer to spilling over after his rambling. he had said everything he was feeling and little did he know it was the same way you had been feeling too.

after every wish and journal entry wishing he'd waltz back into your life, he finally was here. sitting across from you, and now you were speechless. unable to find the words to tell him you felt the same way.

"i'm sorry," he mumbled, looking away and straight ahead of him, almost as if he was embarrassed to spring all of that onto you, "that was a lot all at once, i'm sorry-"

you leaned over the center console, grabbing his face in your hands, turning him to face you and smashing your lips against his. the tears falling down now at the feeling of having him this close again. the familiar feeling of having his lips on yours again being enough to send them dripping down and onto your shirt.

he was quick to kiss you back, as soon as the initial shock wore off. his hand moving to cup your cheek, deepening the kiss as you grabbed his shirt in your fist, not wanting to let go after he had been away from you all this time.

he pulled away when he needed to catch his breath, forehead resting against yours. you smiled softly, the two of you panting breathless and in love. he brought his thumb up to your cheek, wiping away the few stray tears that were still lingering. you leaned into his touch and he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"i love you," you breathed, nose bumping his, "so much. i never stopped, even after you left."

he smiled, his voice soft, "i'll spend a lifetime making it up to you."

you shook your head, "it doesn't matter. you're here now, that's all that matters."

"can i start with dinner?" he asked, smiling softly and brushing a piece of hair from your face. you hummed and nodded, pulling away from him as he got out of the car, jogging to open your door. you smiled and placed a quick kiss to his lips, joining your hands together. he walked with you into the restaurant, and as he opened the door for you all he could think about how he was the luckiest man on earth.

there was no way he was letting you again. you were incomparable. chemical.

[liketolovexx]

Okay I have a request for Regulus if you’re up for it… how about the reader having to wear him down because he believes he’s unlovable etc etc. but once she does, he’s the biggest softie, always gentle and caring and seeking her presence?? only if you feel like writing it though!!! Kisses

Hii! It’s taking me a while to get round to my requests but everyone feel free to send them in to keep me busy!! Kisses to u too my darling 🫶🫶

I actually turned out really loving this. It turned out a little angstier than I anticipated, though. Sorry.

Unlovable. ~R.A.B

{in which regulus believes no one could ever love him, but you’re here to prove otherwise.}

Regulus had been distant lately.

Avoiding you, which wasn’t normal. Not for you, at least. You’d been best friends, and the moment you started dating, it’s almost like something happened inside of regulus. He wasn’t around you much anymore. It hurt, honestly. To love somebody who hides from you. It took you a trip to the gryffindor common room, begging on your knees, incredibly puppy-eyes (that apparently all of the Black family is weak for, because it made Sirius melt too), a new chocolate bar for Remus and literally just a tight hug for James to get the marauders to lend you the map.

There it was. A pair of dark footprints teetering at the top of the astronomy tower, where you and your boyfriend often snook after hours, labelled ‘Regulus Black’ in elegant italics, much like his own trained penmanship.

The map was on the floor. You could vaguely hear James yelling at you not to drop it while you rushed to the tower. Lead curled around your heart, weighing heavily in your chest as you climbed the steep, eroded steps up to Regulus. You were thinking the worst. Your regulus was going to jump. Moonlight flooded your vision as you emerged, only to see a black silhouette stood precariously at the edge of the balcony. Your eyes widened and your stomach dropped as your very worst fears were reinforced.

“regulus?”

He spun around swiftly, his usual perfect black curls unruly and tousled out of the place by the cold wind. His eyes were wild and panicked and dark bags shadowed shadowed them. he was paler than usual, the white of his skin closely mimicking the pearly hue of the moon that ignited you both. You lifted your arms slowly, as if trying to calm a beast.

“Regulus, it’s me, it’s only me, sweetheart, calm down.”

“What do you want?”

“I want to know why you’ve been ignoring me.”

You said, keeping your tone calm as to not startle him. “Can you please come here? You’re scaring me.” Something changed in his eyes when you spoke that phrase, as if scaring you was out of the picture. He’d never want you to be scared of him, because he was meant to protect you. His rosy lip trembles, and at first you thought it was from the harsh chill of the night air, until it was accompanied by furrowed eyebrows, glossy eyes and him stumbling towards you with his arms outstretched like a child.

“Oh, Reg…” you hummed, cupping the back of his head with your hand as you tucked his face into your neck. His back started to heave with sobs so you used your other hand to rub soothing circles across his shoulders. “It’s so cold out here, you’re gonna-“

“Why do you fucking love me?” Regulus growled, his grip on you tightening almost aggressively.

“What?” You whisper, fear seeping into your veins. But in your heart, you knew regulus would never hurt you. He raised his head, staring deep into your eyes, face glazed in a mixture of frustration and despair.

“Why do you love me?”

You were silent. Why did you love regulus? Well, he was kind. Not to everyone, but to those he trusted, those he loved. He was incredibly loyal. He was a sensitive soul, underneath his facade. He was soft. He was beautiful. He was yours. But you couldn’t find the words to even begin to express the reasons behind your adoration for him.

“Regulus, you are… everything.”

His face changed. He looked almost bewildered, confused.

“What? I’m not anything. I’m from a family of fucking blood supremacists, I’m-“

You kissed him. He shut up in seconds when your lips pressed to his. “You’re fucking perfect. And you’re not them, Regulus. You’re perfect.” You told him sternly, gripping his shoulders hard, but gently. He broke down again, his face scrunching up as the tears began to fall. You pulled him in again. “No… no, I don’t deserve this. I- I don’t.” You shushed him, stroking his hair. “You deserve everything. And I love you. You deserve love most of all, Reggie.”

A week or so later…

Regulus was curled into your side in the slytherin common room. No one was there except him, Barty, and Evan. He’d fallen asleep with his head on your chest, and you didn’t have the heart to wake him to go to class, so Evan and Barty jumped at the chance to skip with you two. Though, Barty couldn’t refrain from making dramatic gagging noises whilst gripping Evan’s shoulder and lurching forwards every time regulus nuzzled closer to you in his sleep. He teased, sure, but really, he knew his friend had never been happier. He’d never seen regulus with so much sparkle in his eye. He’d never seen regulus so lovesick.

He’d never seen regulus so touchy with somebody.

He’d never seen him trust so deeply. love so unconditionally.

~~~

Please don’t copy any of my work!!

[davidtennantgenderenvy]

On David Tennant and Aging

So, I’ve seen a lot of posts in response to Tumblr users’ habit of affectionately calling their favorite middle aged dudes “old men”, David Tennant in particular, saying things like “clearly you’ve never met an actual old person”, “omg you talk about these guys like they’re 80”, “please be normal about people aging”, etc. And on one hand, all of these statements are objectively right and true! But as someone who’s always been really fascinated by and found a lot of beauty in getting older (which I’ve explored in some of my writing on A03 because nobody else is going to do it for me), I’d like to provide a bit more nuance on how I think this label applies to David in particular.

David, obviously, in literal terms, is not “old”, at least not to me- I don’t personally consider people old until they get past 60. 52 is middle aged, simple as that. And yet, when I see David stuck with the “old man” label, it still somehow feels weirdly right, for a number of reasons.

It annoys me so much when people say David “hasn’t aged a day since Doctor Who”, because, well…

He clearly has. A lot. He’s got forehead creases, deep crows’ feet and eyebags, and I think that post-Fourteen we’re gonna see him rocking the grey temples a LOT more. He also has the voice of an older man now, his upper range is still there but the default is much more deep and rich, with a gravelly, rumbling quality that just goes straight through you. I personally think Broadchurch was when David finally started to embrace looking his age- Alec Hardy just wouldn’t have been served by Ten’s fresh-faced boyishness.

Obviously, these are the kinds of changes you’d expect any 52-year-old man to have, but something about David just makes it all seem a bit more… intense? The expressiveness of his face combined with his almost gaunt frame makes his wrinkles very prominent, and when he works his voice to its emotional extremes, his lower register can sound positively ancient, to devastating effect.

David, I think, is someone with an old soul- I don’t think he could be as good as he is at playing ancient characters like Crowley and The Doctor if he weren’t. He has lived so many lives, given so much of himself to so many characters, often incredibly tragic ones, and I think it wears on him. David also has five kids. FIVE. Do you know how exhausting it is to be one of the hardest working actors alive and be a present, loving father to even ONE child? But David somehow does it anyway! Nowadays I see him and my heart breaks because he looks so tired, so weary and fragile. But he’s all the more beautiful for it to me because I know that that is because he is kind. He’s a deeply empathetic person who feels and lives to the absolute fullest, and that story is written so clearly on his face, along with every other story he has ever been a part of.

There’s other things about David that make the label endearingly fitting- his utter hopelessness when it comes to technology, for instance. And he’s just got that warm, wise, grandpa energy too sometimes- look at that above Fourteen picture and tell me I’m wrong!

I once showed my friend who’d only seen David in Doctor Who and Harry Potter a picture of David from Around The World in 80 Days. It was a particularly emotional scene, and his face had just the most beautiful expression of compassion and sadness, every wrinkle on full display. And she said, in a less than complimentary fashion, “he looks so old!” Which, of course, offended me quite a bit at first. But to me, referring to David as old almost feels like a badge of honor, something he’s earned by living fully and selflessly, working hard and being wise and compassionate beyond his years. I think David himself is secretly more than a little insecure about the fact that he’s getting older. There’s sadness behind every jovially self-depreciating remark he’s made about his age in the past year, particularly in comparing himself to Ncuti Gatwa. I know how much David struggles with his impostor syndrome and how people perceive him, and I can clearly see in his eyes the fear of being discarded, the anxiety he feels about if he’ll still be as loved as he was back in 2007 now that he’s closer in age to King Lear than he is to Romeo. So I hope David knows it’s a privilege to watch him grow older, to watch his soul and talents deepen with the crinkles around his eyes. If I, in my silly goofy tumblr girl-ness, call David Tennant an old man, it’s because it’s a label that suits him beautifully- even if it isn’t TECHNICALLY an accurate one yet.

[pixiesfz]

mother’s day s.c x child!reader

apart of sunshine series

plot: you first call Steph mum on Mother’s Day

warning: fluff

Some of the girls still wondered as to why you hadn’t called Steph your mum yet, it had now been almost a year since your adoption and yet you still called her “Steph” or “Stephy”.

But you called her teammates your aunties, not Kyra though she had come around so often that you thought of her as a sister, she reminded you of Lara before she was stuck to her bed in the hospital room.

You had never really thought of labelling Steph as your mother, she was always just Stephy to you and that’s what she was to Lara.

You were still trying to adjust to the fact that she was gone.

Kyra somehow was allowed to babysit you one night as Steph was out on a ‘date’ but you didn’t really know what that meant so you shrugged it off.

You and Kyra were eating spaghetti Steph pre-made before the older girl opened her mouth.

“You know sunshine, Mother’s Day is coming up” she told you and you looked up to the girl who was looking hesitant “Mother’s Day was earlier in the year Kywa”

She shook her head “Well Stephy’s Australian so we celebrate on a different date” she explained and you looked down.

“Is that like a birthday?” You ask and the 22 year old laughed “no it’s a day where we celebrate our mums and what they do for us kids” she explained

You furrowed your eyebrows “The boys at my school say Steph isn’t my mum because she didn’t push me out of her belly” you say, crossing your arms as Kyra gasped

“A mum doesn’t have to the one who gives birth to you, a mum can be someone you trust completely and looks after you”

“Steph does that” you pointed out “yes she does” Kyra smiled before you went back to your spaghetti, thinking.

Kyra flinched when you jumped on your chair

“We should make Stephy a present!”

Kyra raised her brows at your eagerness but nodded anyways “I agree!”

You told Kyra your idea before going to bed with a smile, having to do a few laps around the house before you grew tired, a trick Harper taught you at camp.

When Steph arrived and saw you sleeping in your bed with Kyra asleep on a blanket and cushion next to you she laughed softly and took a picture.

It was at training the next day that you ran to Kyra who had an extra bag to bring and a “foot injury” she had to check out.

“You two are glued to the hip now” Steph pouted when you excitedly ran to the girl “She’s my sister!” You cheered and Alessia smirked “sunshine?, if she’s your sister then what is Steph?”

You furrowed your brows “Steph is my Stephy” you explained like it was the simplest answer before running away, bringing a ‘limping’ Kyra with you.

“You don’t need to try, Less she’s never had a mum she doesn’t really know the understanding of it all, I won’t force her to call me that” Steph said to her friend who meant the best.

Whilst it seemed a little darker on the field you and Kyra were giggling and doodling posters that you were making for Steph.

Today was Australian Mother’s Day and you wanted to make it special.

Steph was your mum, you realised that now.

“What does yours say?” Kyra asked and you showed her your very glittery sign that read ‘luv you mummy’

“What does yours say?” You ask and Kyra excitedly turned hers around that said ‘not just a team mum’.

“What does that mean?” You ask and she crossed her head “you’ll find out later in life”

Kyra finally brought out your last request which was a charm bracelet with the initials of yours and Lara’s names.

“Why’d you choose this?” Kyra asked and you smiled “because Scarlett at schools mum has a necklace just like it, she showed me it was cool” you smiled and Kyra nodded.

When training came to an end the two of you found yourselves quickly cleaning up your stations before running to the change rooms where you both posed with your posters as the girls came in.

Small gasps and ‘aw’s’ were heard before finally Steph walked in.

Your smile dropped as tears took over her face.

“Mummy don’t cry!” You yelled but it only made it worse as she let out a sob.

“Mummy!” You yelled out, giving your poster to Kyra who was smiling proudly before running over to Steph.

“Oh sunshine” she smiled before bringing you into a big hug

“Happy Mother’s Day Steph” Kyra yelled from her spot, grabbing the present with the bracelet inside and walking over, passing it to her.

“Thank-thankyou Kyra” she told her with a now blotchy face and Kyra scratched your head “all her idea”.

You lifted your face from your mums shoulder “Aussie mummy day!” You cheered and the girls in the room laughed.

“I think we should go out for a nice dinner Sunshine and open my present together, how does that feel” she said, feeling embarrassed that her teammates where seeing her this vulnerable.

“Okay mummy”

[randomsillyfangirl]

Oliver Otto x Reader

To start this off. Ik many people think that Oliver is gay, which is alright and people are allowed to think whatever they want! Me personally, I don't really give him a label. But I do think he likes girls, since he's shown much interest in them. I do not mean any harm with this post! If you do not like it- please just scroll away 💕

But anyway, again I will still be writing Pablo Gavi x Reader. I'm just watching American House Wives rn and am obsessed with Oliver lol

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

You and your family just moved to WestPort. Your father was a famous author while your mom was the ceo of a famous book company- matched made in heaven. You were an only child, their only daughter. And in a whole new country.

In the first week of your family moving your mom and Katie became besties, your dad and Gregg became friends. But you? You felt so alone. Everyone else seemed to be snobby. You didn't like them- you weren't raised like a WestPort kid.

Your family was going to the Ottos house, they invited you to their home for a barbeque. " and young lady, you better not be on your phone or reading the whole time we're there! " your mother warned and you sighed, you really missed home and didn't wanna be around WestPort type people.

Thankfully the Ottos weren't those snobby WestPort people, but you still wanted to be alone. Taylor tried talking to you, and you two did have a conversation. " what sports are you into? " Taylor asked, but before you could respond Oliver started to insult his sister, " all sports are useless they're to get into college. You're just wasting your time. " he said and you rolled your eyes.

" actually, that's not true. What's more important is experience." you corrected him, when you made eye contact with him you had to hold back a smile, he's so cute.

Oliver was going to give you a response before Taylor stopped his comment. " you dress so... Let me dress you!! " she started to beg. You sighed and nodded, " mom, me and Taylor are going to our place to try on clothes." you told your mom, but Katie demanded that you bring Oliver too.

At your place, Taylor went through your closest. " you have really cute clothes! Why don't you wear them?" Taylor asked. " because WestPort kids don't." you sighed sitting on three bed. Oliver stood against the wall, looking around your room.

(See below for the outfit + hair Taylor chose for you)

When Oliver saw you, he smiled. Taylor noticed and her jaw dropped abit- Oliver wasn't being a bitch? What's going on!

Oliver coughed to signal to his sister to stop being weird. You smiled back at Oliver. " you're in my English, aren't you?" you asked looking at him. He nodded and chuckled, " don't forget, also in your biology." you nodded and laughed, " almost forgot."

Taylor went to ' go to the bathroom '- aka give you two some time to talk. " why'd you move to WestPort? You seem like you hate it. " Oliver asked. You sighed, " my parents wanted to expand their business from (your country) to the states too. And here, we can make connections. Everyone loves it here but me." you sighed again. Oliver sat next to you, " trust me. It gets better."

The next day at school, you wore another outfit Taylor recommend for you. (See pictures below) You didn't have any friends, so you walked in alone. You got alot of attention. You weren't wearing skinny jeans that cost $300 with some ugly expensive grandma sweater. You were wearing a Pinterest type outfit that probably cost you $20, excluding the shoes.

You were getting attention from the girls, more of them questioning you. But the boys? They liked your outfit. Yawning, you walked to your class, you could feel peoples eyes on you and you hated it.

Oliver watched you walk in. " isn't she pretty? " he heard one of the guys say and Oliver nodded. Cooper nudged his shoulder, " ceo and successful writers daughter right? Perfect for your mission. " he teased, but Oliver wasn't listening; all his focus was on you.

In English, it was a pair assignment. Cooper wasn't in his class, so nobody interrupted his plan to ask yo- who the hell is that? Some WestPort snobby guy was asking you to be his partner. " so darling, you do the work my dad will do m- " the guy was proposing his idea until you interrupted, " I'd rather get hit by a car." which seemed to annoy him. You looked over at Oliver and smiled, giving him the confidence to ask you to be his partner.

" You? Me? Working together? What do you think? " Oliver said sitting next to you. You smiled and nodded, " I'd like that. We can go to my place after school? Since I've been to yours already " you chuckled and he did as well, " I've always wondered what the house of a ceo and writer looks like. " he said making you laugh.

You lived in one of the larger houses in WestPort. Oliver was checking out the place, amazed, it was a gorgeous house. You sighed, " sorry it's not very fun.." . " it's amazing!! " Oliver basically screamed, hearing an echo. You shook your head but chuckled, " it looks nice.. But it's lonely " Oliver listened to your words, " yeah, like cooper.. " he said, sighing to keep talking " but hey, you'll make plenty of friends." he said smiling, making you smile.

You looked at him, " wanna see all the useless and expensive crap I have? " he nodded repeatedly, " umm yeah! " and his reaction made you laugh. Going into one room, " this is where my dad keeps these random glass statues. " going on into another, " my moms old coats, boringggg " and then finally, " my records and record players " you said, going into the room next to your room.

In your room, you two started your group project. Your project would last for half the school year- a massive school project.

But the two of you started to get really close during the time. He was your friend friend in WestPort, other than Taylor.

" so I was thinking, we hang out. My place. " Oliver proposed the idea to you. You nodded, " yeah sure, I'll bring the study stu- " you were saying until Oliver intrupred. " no no. No books. Just you and me. Hanging out." he clarified. You smiled and felt you cheeks go light red, " I'd like that." you told him, making him smile too.

You two went up to his room later that day. You sat on his bed, " sooo, what we doin?" you asked him. He looked at you, a little panicked, " what are we doing?" he repeated and you looked confused.

" you have no plan? "You said and then laughed at the lack of response. You weren't laughed at him, you were laughing because it was sweet. You got up," wanna see what we just got at my place? " and Oliver nodded, so you took him to your place to show him.

Your parents got in a massive library. You ran to one of the shelves, grabbing the ladder and climbing up, " there's a book in here that reminded me of you!!" you yelled, looking for the book. By ' reminded ' you meant ' I specifically asked for this book, to give to you. ' hey, that's how girls work.

You came back down to him with a book, before you could speak Oliver already took the words out of your mouth, " how did you know I wanted this book!? " well maybe not exactly what you'd say, just rearrange it.

You nodded, " thought you'd like it." you gave it to the brunette. " you can have it." And you both smiled. Oliver coughed, " I was wondering if tomorrow, you and me, alone, go out somewhere. No studying, but this time I'll have a plan.." he said, fidgeting with the corners of the book.

You smiled and nodded, " I'd like that.." Oliver was trying to ask you on a date, Taylor said that he should.. " she likes you! " Taylor yelled at Oliver. " but how do i ask her? If I ask her to go out- she'll assume it's got studying! " Oliver argued. Taylor laughed, " then ask her to go out alone, and mention no study. And people call me dumb." Taylor scoffed.

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

I hope you enjoyed!! <3

Ik this is all over the place- but I actually had fun writing this.

For the people who asked to be tagged in a oliver otto x reader post: @y4sm1nsstuff @animesimp3456 @hunterluvr

[gimmiesophiebaek]

Let Sophie be Sophie

I need to put this to words because it’s all over my favorite tags. But first, an obligatory Benedict gif because I can’t wait for him to lead S4.

First to clear things up: Benedict is not bi. He’s pansexual. Even Luke T. said that in his interview. Personally, it fits his vibe. He just attracts on people’s vibes. I do find the throuple scene to be tastefully done. In the end, it was all about him exploring his pleasures with two: one he’s familiar with and one he’s intrigued with. Sadly, the editing made it look like they had a weekend screwfest when it all happened in one night.

But this post isn’t about the threesome and whatever Benedict wants to label himself after this. This is about Sophie and how people already demanding to switch Sophie into a man or MTF trans. Sophie’s gender is a major point of her storyline. She’s a bastard (whether she’s an Earl’s bastard or not remains to be seen) and a maid. She doesn’t want to repeat her mother’s mistake of bringing another bastard child into the world and suffer the same she did. If you have a ween, you have more power than one with a vagina back in the day, even if you’re a bastard. So it’s not going to work.

In addition, Sophie is probably the emotionally strongest of the Bridgerton wives. This woman had hard life and was handed nothing but scraps. But she never lost her soul and steadfast values when the world turned against her. With due respect to Kate and Penelope (and Lucy if we ever get to Greg’s season), Sophie is tough as nails. I want to see a strong street smart female go head to head with the “community bicycle”, especially a certain offer comes to play.

Most of all, people forget that sodomy was a crime in England at the time. Yeah you can be discreet about it, but for it to be a happy ending, you can’t go and hide in the shadows. Even if you move to the countryside, you would be caught. And before people throw in the Frannie/Michaela comparison, it’s easier for women to get away with it as they can say they are friends. Plus Frannie will be a widow by then. While I feel for those who love Franchael, I’ve come to accept it. I hope they do this with care.

Now I saw someone thinking of a Mulan plot of crossdressing. I was thinking along the lines of Twelfth Night or As You Like It (if we’re going with the Shakespeare theme). But I doubt Shondaland will pull it off with care and without disrespecting trans actors if they go there.

Benedict’s arc is about being free right now but he’s also internally and emotionally set adrift. It’s the love of and for Sophie that will be his anchor. The love of a bastard daughter turned maid who saved him from illness after he saved her almost rape by her last employer’s son is going to open his heart that not even all the orgies and threesomes can compete with.

So yeah… let Sophie Beckett be Sophie Beckett. I don’t care which race or ethnicity. Just let her be a cis female.

(okay one more Ben gif for good measure)

[fairykazu]

misunderstandings ft. childe

inspo: “I know you don’t like labels, so will you be my married-person-thing?”

it's hard to be in love with someone who's so obvious that they like you back but refuse to admit it. unfortunately, that's the situation childe has with you. everyone could see the love and affection in your eyes whenever you see the ginger male. but no matter hard they try to make you admit that you like him, you shut your mouth and change the subject.

well, you have had admitted it quietly in your friend's ear once but maybe too loudly because childe's ear perked up when you said his name. you immediately changed the subject right away.

"name? did you say my name?" childe asked as you tried to play off your flustered look,

"no? i was talking about albedo's sister. i mean, it's amazing how hes able to work around her. because um... children! i meant to say children not "childe". you have selective hearing! thats what you have." you spluttered up as amber whispered in your ear,

"good save."

he smiled hoping not in an awkward way and said, "ohh! thats what you mean."

that was so not what you meant and sadly, it's gotten so obvious even the subject of your affection noticed. it's not that hard to notice. even though, your state of denial does annoy him when he tries to court you like a peacock, he does like the chase. but the real question is, is he the prey or the predator in the situation?

you noticed that childe has been... not himself? not at all, in a bad way, of course but it's interesting that your boyfriend is acting like he has fallen in love all over again. do you have to worry about how his eyes only glimmer around you? maybe, but his eyes are pretty. speaking of the devil, he just texted you.

\\ 🍊: name

\\ 🍊: i need to talk to you rq

\\ 🍊: pls 🥲

he's so silly sometimes. you remember when he barely used emojis when you first began being friends. but as your relationship grew, he started to adapt how you texted. it's cute.

\\ 🍓: call?

\\ 🍊: ummm no. come to my house.

\\ 🍓: rn? it's like 7 😭😭

\\ 🍊: yes... well no 😞

\\ 🍊: you know what im coming over rn

\\ 🍓: RN?

\\ 🍊: yes.

what just happened?

---

childe arrived at your doorstep, out of breath. it was cold. too cold and it was snowing. he loves the cold and his favorite memories with you was building a snowman and a snow woman together with teucer. teucer isn't really picky with people but he approves of you a lot. childe remember how happy you were when he told you that his little brother likes to hang out with you. despite it all, he still has the balls to confess and ask you out. or if you don't like labels. thats fine. if he's able to relax in your warmth somehow, he'd be content. no dating? it's okay. he will wait for you. he slipped into his pocket, looking for his phone, texting you.

\\ 🍊: pls open your door.

\\ 🍊: it's too cold and you know i can handle the cold

\\ 🍊: name pls

\\ 🍊: berry berry pls

the door opened wide, the warmth of your apartment escaping to the chilled breeze. he was bundled up in different layers. one hand has his phone the other was buried in his pocket. you were confused. he would be confused too if he was you. he was guessing what kind of thoughts ran in your mind like why you are here out of breath? wouldnt you be sick? while you welcomed him into the apartment, closing the door behind him and helping childe take off one or two layers of clothes. once he was warmed up and comfortable, you asked him, "did you run here? we live 2 hours away from each other. why didn't you take your car? why couldn't just call?"

he nodded off your questions. he looked up at you and you looked kind of pissed and annoyed. "okay, i will answer that if you just listen to me."

your stance changed from closed off to open, you crossed your arms though. "okay?"

"okay. um, i wanted to do this in a nicer and different setting. it'd would be much better than this and i promise i'll do it in a different way too." he looked at you again for approval. your hand moved in a circular motion, signaling him to get to the point. "well, i like you and i think you like me too. i know you don't really like those labels of being-" he fakes quoted with his fingers. " 'together'. but would you be my significant-married-person-thing with me? if you don't, it's fine."

after he got that off his chest, he sighed deeply. he waited for your response. half hoping that he didn't get rejected by you just now. but all he heard was laughing. nervously, he looked at you again. "what?"

"i thought we were together." you sat next to him, trying to snifle your laughs. he could see the tears outlining your eyes. instictively, he wiped off a tear off your face.

you watched how your words finally were processed in childe's brain and you could vividly see a lightbulb light up just now. "what?"

"i thought we were dating already."

"when did you think that???"

"well, in like highschool or middle school, when we were sleeping on my bed for one of our saturday sleepovers. you said, 'name, i want to be together with you forever.' and i replied with, 'i'd like that.'"

childe's face morphed, "but i didn't ask you officially. you knew i liked you from the start???"

"only because i thought we were dating from the start. gosh, my boyfriend is so stupid."

BOYFRIEND?? VGBHJMAKLS;VPNEF L YAYY WHOOSH BOYFRIEND... wait a minute. "if we are dating, why did you ignore me at school and become flustered?"

"good question. i don't remember."

"WHAT???"

"i'm just kidding, childe. also were you dreaming because the only time that happened was like highschool. i feel like we shouldve had a chat about this."

"you think??"

"im sorry childe. here's your apology gift." you pecked his lips. he melted instantly.

"don't you think... this makes you forgiven."

"oh how dare i think that! so... do you want to watch tangled again?"

"yes."

[boltupbitches]

One Day at a Time - Justin Herbert

Prompt:

Can you do a Justin Herbert one where let's say you have a situationship. You find out he's seeing someone else and you want a commitment. Says he's not ready then a few weeks after you find out you're pregnant and keep it from him. A friend accidentally shares your gender reveal on instagram and he does the math so he knows it's his daughter. He comes over and is mad at first but then yall argue it out. Happy ending please.

This entire situation was fucked from the get-go. Situationships, friends-with-benefits, fuck buddies.. Whatever label you wanted to use to describe a no-strings relationship. What ended up being a one night stand after meeting at a bar in Eugene turned into 6 months of hook ups and hangouts.

Yet, Justin never made the move to make it official with his ‘friend’ Alex. At least, she was very certain they weren’t even friends at all because friends don’t fuck every time they link up.

Justin’s constant dodging of the conversation she wanted to have with him reached a boiling point when she caught on to a rumor online about him hooking up with a reality tv star. The same night he avoided coming over, avoided her texts and calls, and essentially ghosted her.

Then, the news broke and the reality tv starlet leaked the private DMs he sent to the media.. Creating an even bigger frenzy.

Alex was heartbroken and mad. Mad that he was leading her on and mad that she gave him the opportunity to do so countless times.

That’s how they ended up here at her apartment, fighting over the situation.

She had sent him one final text saying ‘whatever this is is done.’

A half hour later he was at her door, acting shocked by her decision.

“I just want a straight answer from you for once!” She shouted at him as he turned his back towards her, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

“Stop yelling, Alex.” He demanded.

“No.. see what you’re not going to do is talk to me like a fucking child. I am not one and you are going to listen to me. I’m tired of the games, Justin. You’ve been playing games with my heart for months and we both fucking know it. I just want some transparency and you can’t be decent enough to give that to me! So, what is this officially and where do you see it going?” She demanded.

He was silent again, not looking at her.

“Well?” Her eyes were tearing up as she stared at his back. “Nothing? You can’t even fucking look at me when I’m talking to you?” She bit her lip, trying to fight back the tears.

He turns around and stares at her, his eyes impassive. “Alex.. I.. I’m not ready to commit to anything. I’m sorry, ok? I just.. I am young and I’m enjoying my career. Being settled down isn’t a priority to me at this point. Outside of football, I am not thinking about anything else commitment-wise.”

“Get out.”

“What?” He asked with a shocked expression.

“Get the fuck out of my apartment. Get the fuck out of my life. And fucking lose my number, you piece of shit!” She yelled at him, pointing her fingers towards her door. “Get out!”

He stares in shock once more. 

She doesn’t look at him and stares blankly down at the floor, schooling her face to not show anymore emotion to him.

“Alex..” He whispered pitifully.

“Just go.. Please.” She said back quietly, refusing to stare at him.

It was quiet for another moment or two and then she heard his footsteps pass her and go towards the door. She wished he had fought for her, but he didn’t.

The door closed behind her and when she heard his car start and pull out of her driveway, she finally collapsed to her knees, hugging herself tightly as she sobbed in heartbreak. 

She didn’t hear from him after that. Even though a small part of her hoped for him to come crawling back and to show he regretted it, she knew it was better he didn’t. What they had was unhealthy. Yet, she still held onto some hope that he would.

He didn’t.

A week later there would be another gossip column spreading around about Justin’s dating life, this time with a lingerie model. 

She was disappointed, but not surprised.

—---------------------------------------------------

A few months would pass and before Justin knew it, the season was over and with it a heartbreaking playoffs loss against the Jaguars.

He flew low after that, focusing on recovery post-surgery and keeping himself busy. And for once, that didn’t include dating.

Los Angeles had planted some habits in himself he swore he’d break free from before the pre-season training camp in the summer. One of those habits would be hookups and dating famous women. 

He found after the couple dates with the lingerie model that beyond their beauty, there wasn’t much substance to them. Instagram followers, brand endorsements, and sponsored trips were conversations he had with his business manager and PR specialist - not with a romantic interest.

He found also that his heart ached at times, his mind drifting to Alex and wondering how she was doing. She had blocked him on everything and from what he understood through mutual friends who remained oblivious to it all, she moved back to Eugene as well to live with her mom.

He missed her. He couldn’t deny that. Most of all, he regretted how he treated her and made her feel. The drive back from her place that evening she kicked him out was absolute hell. He couldn’t figure out what the deep pang in his chest was until he pulled into his driveway and put the car in park. There, he broke down crying.

He realized he loved her and then lost her all in the same day. It was his fault for leading her on and avoiding commitment. His stupid justifications were that if they remained in the situationship, the likelihood of hurting each other’s feelings would be less. 

Yet, looking back on it now, it made absolutely no fucking sense.

She was right - he led her on and broke her heart. And then she was done with his shit.

He ruined it. He didn’t even have the courage inside himself to go back and beg her for forgiveness, to take back what he said, and to apologize for hurting her.

No, instead he poured himself back into football, continued to go on dates with beautiful women that he had no interest in beyond surface level. Nights were lonely and he missed talking to Alex. Often, he’d pull up their text message threads, ignoring the most recent one and scrolling back to some of the good times they had.

Funny enough, thinking about her seemed to be a more common thing and Justin was certain God was now playing a cruel prank on him. Because what he came across next while scrolling Instagram was something he was NOT prepared for in any capacity. He sat in complete shock. It was as if every fiber in his being had turned to stone for those mere seconds his eyes scanned the images in front of him on his phone.

Snapping out of it, he quickly viewed the Instagram story again. It was from a mutual of his and his ex friend with benefits, Alex.

It was a gender reveal… for Alex... who was visibly pregnant and beautiful as the pink confetti from the poppers were floating around her.

And in that moment he knew. He had gotten her pregnant because there was no way she was out messing with other men. He knew better than to think that. She wasn’t that type.

But she apparently was the type to get pregnant and not fucking tell him.

The stirring of emotions in him at that very moment was more than he could comprehend. All he knew was that he was heading over to her place to talk whether she liked it or not. He wanted answers right then and there. And the two of them were both in Eugene. No better time than to pay a visit.

Justin could barely remember the drive to her mom’s house. He just knew she lived 25 minutes from him. By the time he came off auto pilot, he was in front of her door, knocking loudly.

There was no answer at first. Then, just as he attempted to knock again, the door swung open to reveal a sleepy Alex who had clearly just woken up. She was wearing a baggy sweatshirt, Oregon State pajama bottoms, and socks. Her hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail. 

She was rubbing her eyes and was just about to greet whoever was at the door when she realized who it was. 

They stared at each other in shock. Justin opened his mouth to say something when suddenly the door was being slammed in his face.

He stuck his foot in the doorway in just the split second he had and winced in pain at his foot being smashed in the doorway. “Fuck - wait Alex! Please!”

“No! Go away, Justin!” She yelled, using her own foot to try and nudge his out of the doorway, blocking her from shutting him completely out. “Seriously!?” She shouted as she felt him open the door wider with his good arm. Finally, she gave up and let go of the door, backing up to let him open it.

He did, proceeding into the house and bending down to rub his sore foot. “Fuck, Alex.. break my foot next time why don’t you..”

“Oh.. I gladly would. Who sticks their foot in the doorway like a dumbass?” She said rudely back.

He looked up at her, his expression showing how unimpressed he was with her attitude. “Well, clearly me because how else was I going to get you to talk to me?” He demanded. His eyes move instinctively to stare at the swell of her stomach showing beneath her baggy sweatshirt. “Alexandra.. We need to talk about this.” He nodded his head at her stomach.

She instinctively took a step back and wrapped her arms around her body. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“There absolutely is.” He stood up, staring down at her with an upset expression. “When were you going to tell me that I got you pregnant?”

It was her turn to turn away from him and start walking to the living room. She ignored his calling of her name and waved her arm behind her, indicating for him to follow her. 

He did so without another word, still upset and still frustrated by everything. He didn’t know what to think or say. There was so much going on in his mind at that moment but anytime he tried to muster up the right words to convey the maelstrom going on in his mind, the words just wouldn’t string together and come out. 

She sat on the couch and gestured for him to do the same.

 He did, although he was unsure what she wanted him to do.

She reached forward towards a box he just now noticed that had his address on a shipping label. She was going to send him something.

Wordlessly, she handed the box over to him and watched as he used his house key to tear open the tape. He pulled the box open to find a beautiful wooden box with a cursive engraving that said, ‘Baby Girl Herbert. October 2023.’ He lifted the wooden box carefully out of its packaging and placed it gently on his lap.

His fingers traced the cursive lettering a few times as he stared at it. He knew what was inside it, but was stalling because the tears were already starting to form in his eyes. Justin looked up and made eye contact with Alex who smiled back at him tearfully, her eyes sad.

“Go on.” She urged gently.

And he did. He lifted the lid carefully and stared at the pink blanket that had patterns of ducklings on it. Carefully, he unraveled the blanket and found a copy of a sonogram, a baby onesie that said ‘dad’s #1 fan’, and a letter in an envelope. He didn’t know which to look at first, but his hand instinctively went to the letter.

He opened it and read it silently as Alex watched him with tearful, expectant eyes. 

Dear Justin,

I never imagined writing this letter to you - much less with how things ended between us. I want to get straight to the point. I am pregnant and she’s yours. I will gladly go through the court system and complete a DNA test if you’d prefer that for proof. I also would prefer this to remain quiet between us (including our legal counsel in the know and our immediate family) at this point because I am not interested in being in the news. 

I know this is shocking news to receive. I spent many nights trying to decide how I could even begin to approach you about this. I was terrified that you wouldn’t believe it given how we ended our situationship, and I was heartbroken. I told myself after finding out that I would take a few weeks to come to terms with this. It’s huge, Justin, we can’t deny that. 

Instead, time seemed to pass so rapidly and I just let time continue to pass. I am sorry you are finding out this way, and I’m sorry if this isn’t what you want. I plan to keep her, but I understand if you prefer a minimal role given how much football means to you at this point in your life. I certainly understand that.

Please feel free to give my home phone at my mom’s house a call. I listed it below in this letter.

Regards,

Alex

Justin gulped, tears now spilling down his chest as he folded the letter back up and stared down at the baby onesie in the box. His hand shakingly picked it up as he stared at it in wonder. He couldn’t believe such a tiny person could fit into this, much less a tiny person he helped make that would wear this. He wondered what she would look like. Would she have his eye color or hair color? Would she have the same smile as his? His nose or eye shape? The more he thought about it, the more the tears flowed.

Finally, he placed it back gently into the box and lifted the sonogram next. In college he studied biology and always figured that if the NFL career didn’t work out, he would consider med school as his back up. Sonograms were interesting to him given the few he’d seen in passing.

His eyes studied the shape of the fetus, his eyes pouring over the details. 

“The technician said she’ll like by a long baby.” Alex’s voice broke him out of his spell.

He looked over to her, staring at her in interest as she continued to explain the current size of their unborn daughter. Justin listened - the one thing he wish he had done months ago. He listened as Alex listed off how far along she was, how many appointments she had been too, her expected due date, the heart burn she was suffering with currently, the nursery her mom set up in the spare room of the house. He listened to it all.

When it was quiet again, Justin slipped the sonogram back into the box and sat it gently on the coffee table in front of them.

Then, he slid to the ground gently, turning to kneel in front of Alex who was still sitting on the couch, staring at him in shock, unsure what he was doing.

Justin gently gripped knee and leaned forward to place his head in her lap. His large frame started to shake as he cried quietly into her lap.

Alex immediately started to sooth him, running one hand up and down his back as the other ran gently through his hair. “Justin.. It’s ok.” 

He shook his head gently and mumbled, but Alex couldn’t hear them.

“What?” She asked gently. “Please sit up. You’re going to hurt your knees kneeling like that.”

He stayed put for a few more seconds before lifting his head up and staring at her with red eyes. “I said.. I am so sorry for everything. I know this doesn’t fix things between us, nor does it take back how I treated you, but I truly, sincerely mean it. I am sorry for being such an asshole. I am sorry I hurt you and put myself first. I am sorry I haven’t been here. But, Alexandra? I am now,” He stared earnestly at her, “I am. I am not going anywhere. I want to be here for our daughter and I want to be here for you. Please, please allow me that chance.”

She nodded tearfully and cupped his face, her stomach making it a bit difficult to lean forward fully. “I will never ever keep you from her, Justin. No matter what happened or is going on between us.”

He nodded at that and looked down. “And us?” He asked hopefully.

She smiled at him, “One day at a time, ok?”

He smiled back sadly, knowing she was right. It would be one day at a time for them, but he was hell bent to build a better relationship for them going forward. It wouldn’t be easy - he knew that. It didn’t stop him from wanting to try however. He was going to make this work.

“One day at a time.” He agreed.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Running With The Wolves

Wolfwalker!Moon Knight (Marc/Steven/Jake) x Fem!Reader

Summary:

You're on the verge of being labeled a witch, but can one handsome stranger (and his two "brothers") save you from the same cruel fate as your mother, who was labeled as one and burned at the stake?

Can you handle the truth about your heroes identities, despite it all? Would you find out who your masked savior truly was beneath his cloak?

Only you could answer that.

TW/CW: Witch hunts, violence, graphic violence, graphic death, blood, public execution, parental death, persecution, grief, depression, Wolfwalkers AU, Moon Knight AU, incorrect lore

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: I was watching Wolfwalkers and it gave me the idea for the boys. I did a little research into the lore, so some will be inaccurate (my pagan ancestors would frown upon me lmao) as well as historically inaccurate; so what is in this fic is largely based on the film. It will be especially inaccurate because y'know, Marc is American and Jake is Spanish and Steven is English etc, as well as Khonshu being around (but in the comics he's had a Viking Moon Knight so this isn't too far fetched he'd be in a place like Ireland) so please bear with me, my poor mind has been going through it lately and I wanted to write somethin' pointless, so enjoy this weird ass AU I came up with! (Header does not indicate the reader's race!)

Taglist: @enheduannasposts

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PT. 1

"I heard tha's the girl who lives on the outskirts." You heard a young woman whisper to her friend. Her accent was clearly not from Ireland. She sounded like one of the people from England. They'd been arriving slowly but surely, like a trickle from a leaky bucket, since you were a child.

Your skin prickled as you looked over the vegetables in the market stall, tended to by an old woman who was blind in one eye. Mary, her name was. Mary was probably one of the only around here who was kind to everyone, unless they gave her a reason not to. And those two English girls certainly gave her a reason...

"Aye, ye two hussies best be leav'n this girl be!" She spat, waving her old wooden stick around. "She 'ent done nothin' to ye!"

The two women jumped back with a yelp and scurried off, an armored guard eyeing you and Mary warily.

Your nose crinkled at him and you turned your nose up as you looked back at the crop Mary was selling.

"I'm sorry, lass. I don't like 'em either." Mary said, winking her blind eye at you.

You can't help but smile as you trade some herbs for the vegetables, placing the juicy morsels into your basket. "I just would like for things to go back to the way they were." You sighed.

"Like when I was a girl, before they came to our town. Things were fine, everything was in balance."

Mary leaned in, holding a finger to the sky as she spoke quietly to you.

"Aye, lass. But don't worry. The crimes these English folk are doin' to us? They'll be payin', mark my words! The land, the very sky itself is angry because we can't honor the promises we made so long ago." She grinned, half her teeth missing from old age. "Then, maybe we'll be forgiven."

"Aye, or maybe be consumed by the wolves and the forest while we're at it." You smile sadly. You remembered being safe in those woods as a girl, playing in the creeks, chasing birds and hares, the wolves singing on the breeze...

But the wolf attacks have become ever so common, now. None had been bitten, but their homes had been trashed, their livestock spirited away into the cover of night, wolf tracks everywhere. You were the only one whose homestead was spared. You often wondered why. The only thing different between your little plot and the rest of the homes that were driven empty was... wait.

They were all English.

You weren't. That house you lived in had belonged to your family for nearly half a century. The English farmsteads were placed on the grounds that were cleared by the King's woodcutters and soldiers, they were the ones being attacked. Not you.

But lately, you've heard other tales as well. A "devil in white" the King's men would ramble, their voices shrill with fear. A man in white armor who moved like a ghost, and fought like hell itself. You paid no mind, figuring it may be some hermetic hunter who called the forest home, who simply didn't want to have them invade his solitude.

Maybe--

"Lass, you should get home." Mary said, looking at you with worry as a small gaggle of women whispered and pointed at you. You were used to the stares, you'd been getting them as a child. But since the English arrived, those whispers became accusations.

"Witch."

Your mother had faced a similar accusation, given her odd habits and ways of whispering to the wind.

Some considered her addled, even moreso when she began raving of spirits and the voices she said came from the ground.

You remembered the night that she died, the horrible, evil way that she left this world.

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You were only twelve years old, gripped hard by the local men as the bishop to your village spoke from the Bible, quoting things about the crimes of witchcraft and how your mother could only be cleansed by fire.

You screamed, and kicked, and cried and cursed, but all that earned you was a punch to the gut as they lit the kindling beneath your mother's feet.

You'd heard tales of witch burnings, but you'd never ever thought such horrible deeds would come to your town; your safe, warm little home.

Your mother was strange, yes, but she taught you many things that had proven useful. The best herbs to cure the worst fever, the best tonics to drink to cure an ailing cough, how to track in the woods, how to trust the forest to show you the way home; but only if you respected it as a living being, and respected the souls who lived within.

She wasn't a "witch" to you.

She was your mother.

And she was right in front of you, burning.

"Mummy!" You screamed, your voice sounding as though you swallowed shards of pottery.

She looked at you, and smiled, crying and struggling against the ropes that bound her to the stake.

The fire crept up, up, until it reached her feet.

You could smell it--the acrid, disgusting stench of oil and burning flesh. You could see her skin blister, peel, and burn away as she screamed, begged for mercy. Mercy that the church was not willing to grant her.

You screamed and cried until your throat was raw and bloody, struggling until you broke free of the men's arms.

You didn't think twice on it--you leapt towards the pyre.

Your mother was dead. You knew this. But all you wanted was to hold her one last time, even if all that was left now was blackened, charred flesh.

Your soft, delicate hands burned, your dress beginning to catch aflame as you desperately tried to reach for what little remained of the woman you loved most in the world.

The pain was so blinding, so debilitating that your vision went white around the edges, and you saw the world begin to go dark.

"Damn it--put the girl out!" Was the last thing that you heard before you lost consciousness.

When you'd awoke, it had been two whole days since your mother's trial and burning. Two days since she plead to the "court" about how they were treating the land; that if they didn't change their ways they would all suffer for it.

The first face you saw was the bishop looking down at you with a solemn and sad expression, completely different from the way his eyes had gleamed maniacally as he cheered the death of your mother.

"I'm sorry, dear girl." He said kindly, resting a hand on your shoulder.

Your arms and hands were wrapped in clean linen--or, well, as clean as they could get it, anyway--your burns itching and painful.

You gritted your teeth, feeling hot tears burn as you glared at him, your throat still raw and aching.

"You killed her!" You meant to yell, but it only came out a hoarse croak.

"Aye, girl, I did. But I took no pleasure in it."

Liar. Filthy, disgusting liar! You wanted to shout, You smiled when she screamed!

"Your mother was bewitched by the devil, don't you see? The only way to ensure she could make it to heaven was if she was cleansed by fire." He told you, his wrinkled eyes looking at you with such gentleness you could almost scarcely believe this was your beloved mother's executioner.

"At least now, you know your mother made it to the gates of heaven. And hopefully God finds it in Him to grant your mother eternal peace." He continued, "After all, she loved you greatly, and there is nothing more pure than a mother's love. Even if it was the love of a witch."

You bite back bile that wanted to rise--partly from the pain, partly from disgust--and turned your head away, your tears heavy like chains that hung from your lashes and held your eyes closed.

"So hopefully, we can pray she found salvation and forgiveness in the fact she loved you so."

His hand brushed a lock of burnt hair from your face.

"Don't worry, girl... You can go home. But I must implore you not to give in to the teachings your mother no doubt gave you. None of that talking trees or animals nonsense, you hear?"

You wanted to kick him, to bite his disgusting fingers off and pluck out his eyes. But... all you did was nod, and say:

"I understand."

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Later that night, barring the English women's gossip, you'd had a fairly decent day. Your snare on the edge of the forest had gotten a nice hare; providing you with some nice soft fur and meat and bone.

You'd spent your days thereafter doing much of the same work you'd done since you returned to your empty home the week your mother died. You gardened, placed more snares, cleaned the house, worked the loom, began weaving a small tapestry.

One night, you were broken from your tedium by heavy hands on your door, making you yelp and prick yourself with a needle.

You stuck your bloody fingertip in your mouth and stuffed the tapestry into your heavy wooden chest, rushing to your front door to see what was the trouble.

When you opened it, there was the bishop, flanked by two men in heavy plate armor. You felt a shiver creep up your spine; the sight was eerily similar to the night your mother was taken away, only this time the bishop looked so ancient he looked like a piece of dried, brittle leather.

"Dear girl, thank God you're alright." The bishop breathed, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder.

Your brow creased, and you opened your mouth to speak, only for him to cut you off.

"That... That man, that devil whom the townsfolk here and elsewhere have been seeing--he was here. Tonight! He killed four of the King's finest men!" He said, panicked, his touch cold and clammy.

"And earlier in the day... wolves. A pack of white wolves! I feared for you, girl. I know that you're alone and so far from town." He shuddered a breath. His lungs sounded awful, even to your ears. Honestly... If the man had allowed it, you could have fixed his long coughing illness. He's been suffering for years with it, sometimes to the point where his surmons had to be delivered by proxy.

He was suffering... but so had your mother, whom he murdered in the name of his god.

Your jaw was tight, and you nodded. "I... I see. I haven't been attacked yet, sir. B-but I will keep an eye out and alert you if I see anything strange."

You wouldn't.

"I don't want that devil to hurt anyone else."

You hoped he chased them all away.

He mistook your shaky voice for one of mutual fear for the man that haunted the nights, like the dreaded vampires back in England and the smaller towns and villages.

"Yes, dear girl." He put his hand to your cheek and smiled, his aged features twisting in agony. "A good girl. May God protect you."

"And He, you." You replied, the words tasting like rotten meat on your tongue.

"Such a good girl." He turned, coughing into his hand. "May God help civilise this land..."

Thunder boomed in the distance, almost as if the very sky itself was urging the cruel men on their way, to leave you be.

As soon as your door was closed, you grabbed a nearby cauldron and heaved it over to your hearth, hanging it from the iron hook and dumping the pail of water into it to boil.

You hastily stripped your clothes free and dumped them into the cauldron, rushing to find your small bottles of tonics.

When you'd found the ones you needed, you dumped them, alongside fresh herbs, into the pot with your soaking clothes.

You knew, based on your own observations, that those who coughed often spread it through touch or spit. And he had coughed into his hands and touched you; you simply don't want to take the risk.

You had to start selling your healing tonics "under the table" as Mary said, as cleaning agents for clothes and blankets just so you could pass it to the townsfolk with sick family. You hated doing that, but seeing a sickly child able to run around with her siblings again without fear of that wretched cough was worth the pain of lying.

You watched as the water bubbled, standing naked as you poked at the fabric with your long wooden spoon, swirling it around and around.

Once you deemed it hot enough, you carefully picked up the cauldron and set it on your stone slab at the mouth of your hearth, you scooped some of the herbal water into your wash bucket and began scrubbing at your clothes mercilessly to rid it of any possible sickness.

Once they were clean enough, you hung them near the fire to dry (but not close enough to catch fire while you were asleep).

You felt goosebumps chill your skin as the wind rattled your shutters, so you grabbed a heavy woolen blanket to wrap yourself up in while you dug around for a new linen dress to put on.

It was a small comfort, given how early in the year it was, and these certain storms always brought unseasonably cold weather in their shadow, but you accepted it nonetheless.

You walked over to your wooden chest and pulled out your half-finished tapestry. It was one your mother started when you were barely hip-height; your father, strong and large, next to your mother, petite and soft. Interconnecting between them was you, holding their larger hands in your tiny ones.

Much of it was unfinished, and only within the last year did your grief finally allow you to finish what she started, as this was the only thing left that you had of her. When the church took her away, your mother knew they were coming, so she hid certain things out in the woods for safekeeping, only telling you their whereabouts. Once the church lifted it's eye from you one autumn day, you finally ran out into the clearing your mother hid her things in.

Being able to have something to visually remember your parents by wrenched your heart in a bittersweet way, but it was all you had of them, other than their rings you wore, hidden and slung low beneath your bodice so nobody would see.

You knew if the bishop found out... He would have them all destroyed, burned like your mother; and he would likely have you thrown into the stocks and publicly lashed as punishment.

In a twisted way, the bishop cared for you. He saw you as an innocent, God-fearing girl who had been brainwashed by your witch mother, whom only acknowledged the paganistic "Old Ways".

You hated having to keep up the act, but you didn't want to die. You owed it to your mother and father, wherever their souls were together, to live on.

You blinked, and a heavy teardrop splashed down onto the tapestry.

Your body jolted with the clap of thunder. How long had you been crying? Had you been crying this whole time, but didn't realize it? Oh, you hated how often these crying fits would strike you.

All you wanted to do was think of the happy times with your family, but it always came back to the fact that they were dead and you were alone.

You dropped back onto your bed, the old, dried wood creaking beneath your weight, the smell of the straw mattress stuffed with dried flowers and clovers soothing to your senses.

Your eyes felt heavy, weighted down from your painful thoughts, and you turned your head to look at the wreath above your bed, shamrocks with dried berries carefully strung together; it was something your mother taught you. You couldn't remember the significance of the thing, but making them when you were bored became a mundane comfort.

You closed your eyes and sighed heavily.

You would need to check your snares in the morning.

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Your leather shoes squelched in the mud as you carefully made your way to the treeline early that next morning. You nervously chewed the inside of your cheek to check if the coast was clear before venturing into the bushes.

It was early enough none had arisen yet to start the day, the sun was barely peeking over the horizon as you set off into the forest.

Yes, setting your traps beyond the treeline was dangerous, as they would tell you, but you knew the game in the woods was fat and ripe, perfectly full of meat. If you could hunt at all, you would try your aim at shooting one of those slovenly bucks with a bow and arrow.

But a hunter you were not. Trap-maker, yes. But no hunter.

Your tiny iron dagger was slung low on your hip, your mostly-empty wooden sack carrying fresh bait for any snares that were sprung, or if the bait had been snatched.

The first two traps hadn't been sprung, but picked clean, most likely by birds and quick-witted squirrels. No luck in catching anything.

But as you neared your final trap, you heard an odd noise. A wheezing sound, almost, followed by heavy pants and a whimper.

Your footsteps stopped as you peered around the thick trunk of an ancient tree, your breath catching in your throat as you looked at the sight in front of you.

It was your last snare, set up with some bread and berries to lure in a rabbit or squirrel (as was your typical game) but it seems that this time, somehow... you snagged a wolf.

And this was not a normal wolf; it was one with fur as white as the coldest snow, now muddied and stained from the soggy ground it flailed around in; your snare secured firmly around its neck and front paw, cinching the two together in a painful manner.

Your heart broke as you saw the creature struggle and wheeze, choking out quiet howls that couldn't be heard through the underbrush.

With your jaw set tight, you stepped out of the clearing, and the wolf turned to you, trying to limp away.

"Shhh, hush, now." You soothe the animal, your hands out in front of you as you got lower, trying to seem less threatening.

Yes, the townsfolk feared wolves, but you wouldn't just leave this beautiful creature to slowly strangle to death on one of your own traps; your soul wouldn't be able to handle the weight of guilt.

"I won't hurt you, sweetie." You say, your voice calm and soft as you reached out.

The wolf snapped tentatively at you, whimpering as the pain of the cord dug further into its throat and paw, red stains now blotching the white fur.

"It's all right. I won't hurt you..." You urge the panicked animal. Your own eyes locked with its dark brown ones, and you could almost hear its thoughts plead:

Help me. Please. It hurts. Please!

You wait for the wolf to still, and sit its haunches on the ground, those big, pained eyes staring right through to your very soul.

Once the wolf is calm, you hook your fingers through the snare, reaching for the part of it that looped around, and try to loosen it enough for it to slip free.

But to no avail, the amount of flailing the wolf had done had twisted and cinched it to the point you couldn't. Your brow pinched and you nervously chewed the inside of your cheek before unsheathing your dagger.

Upon seeing the glint of the blade, the wolf whimpered and panicked again, beginning to flail once more as you reached for it.

"No!" You say, frantically trying to calm the beast. "Stop! You're making it worse! Please--I'm not going to hurt you."

You grunt as you leap forward, crushing the wolf against you in a bear hug, trying to calm its thrashing body as you swing your sharpened blade through the cord, severing it from the branch it was tethered to.

You sliced your thumb in an attempt to cut the cord around its throat, but you somehow managed it, your blood leaving fresh streaks of red and pink through the wolf's surprisingly soft fur.

You drop your dagger and release the animal, falling back on your bum as you carefully crawl away as the canine heaved for uninhibited air, its barreled chest shaking with effort.

Once it had collected itself, it limped up to you, it cut paw hanging an inch or two above the ground as its wet, charcoal black nose sniffed at your wounded thumb.

Its pink tongue laved out and lapped up your blood, as if to say "sorry" for causing you to injure yourself for trying to aid it.

Your eyes however, were drawn to the cuts into the wolf's throat and paw, oozing small rivulets of blood as it stared at you.

"Oh... You poor..." You breathed, rising to kneel on your knees, dirtying your skirt even more.

"I... Those can get infected. Please. I... I can help you..."

You don't know why you were trying to bargain with an animal, but somehow it paid off. The wolf nosed its way into your lap, ears flattened up and eyes pleading up at you.

"Okay..." You murmur, scratching behind one of its ears. "Let's get you home, boy. I have stuff there that can help ya."

The wolf whimpered.

"Er... Well, I assume you're male?" You chuckle awkwardly, trying to think of how to carry this large and hefty animal back home without being seen.

"I'm not gonna violate you by takin' a peek or anything." You clear your throat when one of the wolf's ears flop as "he" tilts his head at you.

"Er. Okay. Let's go..."

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It was easier than you thought, getting him back home. As the sun crept higher, the fog and mist were your ally as you smuggled the "dangerous" animal back to the safety of your home.

You had to haul him over your shoulders and beat feet through the underbrush. Once you were safely inside, you had to (with great difficulty) maneuver the wolf down onto your bed.

You chuckled when he rolled over--and he was most definitely a "he"--and began rolling this way and that into your blankets, making small huffs and growls.

"Ah-ah..." You murmur, reaching out to brush your hand through his muddy fur. "You might make your injuries worse, 'kay, m'love?"

That seems to get the wolf's attention. You weren't sure if he could understand you, which honestly had you thinking you were crazy, but the way he sat up and stared at you, one ear flopping down as he looked up into your eyes sent a strange feeling through your body.

"Hmm..." You murmur, brushing your fingers tentatively around his wounded throat. From his muddy thrashing he'd accumulated a fair amount of dirt, and that would lead to infection.

You hike your skirts up and tie them around your waist, and you could almost swear you saw a look of modesty cross the wolf's eyes as his ears slicked back against his head and he buried his muzzle into your warm blankets.

You scratch the back of your head, a little confused at his reaction as you adjust your knickers and rush to gather your herbs you'd need, plucking dried leaves and roots that hung above your hearth.

You set the herbs down into your mortar and pestle and begin to grind them down, mixing them evenly into a dissolvable mass that would melt in the water once you'd boiled it.

You crack your knuckles and grab a pail, untying your skirts and smoothing them out, frowning at the mud stains as you reach for your door, making a "shush" gesture to the wolf.

"Stay quiet and don't go near the windows! It's dangerous if you're seen." You gently urge him before slipping outside into the morning light once again.

The trek to the well was always annoying, but your neighbors never minded you coming to fetch water, knowing how dangerous it could possibly be for you to hike to the creek at the edge of the forest just to get yourself some of the life-giving liquid.

You inwardly cringed when the Kenny's daughter, Aisling, was already at the well; her belly already round with her unborn child. Barely 19 years of age and she was already with a babe; she was often sickly as a child, this you remembered, so her family (namely her husband) was very concerned about her well-being and that of her impending birth.

Upon seeing you approach, Aisling smiled widely and waved at you, saying your name chipperly, almost like an excited morning bird.

You were really hoping not to have a conversation so early, afraid someone would know you were harboring a wolf inside your home...

"Hello, Aisling. Feeling well this morning?" You hum innocently at her as you tie your pail up, before cranking the wench and lowering it down to the water below.

"Yes, surprisingly!" She giggled, patting her belly with a soft smile. "M' little one decided it was a good day to let mummy keep food down."

"That's good! I still recommend broths if you feel nauseous, however..."

"I know, I know. My mum is constantly making sure of that." She sighed with a roll of her eyes, hooking her own two pails of water onto her yoke.

Your hairs raised and you reached out, the wench slipping from your hands and your bucket dropping all the way back down into the water below the earth.

"No! You mustn't lift something that heavy." You caution. "It's not good for your baby."

"Ohhh! You sound like my father." She sighs, frowning deeply, her hands on her hips. "I'm not helpless, y'know!"

"Yes, I'm aware, but--"

"Aisling!" Her husband panted, trotting up to the both of you. He was at least a decade or so older than she was, but nonetheless it was a good match; he seemed to love her greatly. He was English, and one of the few kind ones you've known, in fact. A gentle giant.

This fact was emphasized when his large bulky hand reached down to touch her belly, sighing with relief. "No, no, you know that you can't be out here alone! The wolves!"

"I 'ent seen no wolves!" Aisling pouted up at him.

"That doesn't mean no wolves see you, m'love." He sighed dejectedly at her. He gives you a kind smile and a nod, hoisting the yoke over his own shoulders, "Aye, lass. Glad to see someone else talking some sense into my pretty little wife, here..."

"Bah!" Aisling scoffed, throwing her arms in the air as she waddled back down to their house.

He shook his head with a chuckle, "I swear, if we have a girl and she turns out like her..."

"You'll have your hands full, alright." You sigh, cranking the wench again.

"Aye." He says, giving you a cautious look. "But, I must warn you, the same way I did Aisling... with these wolves about, it's dangerous..."

"I know." You smile. "I'll be fine."

"Alright..." He replies, giving you one last look before going back home to his wife and family.

You on the other hand, rushed back home with your water to your waiting furry companion...

You almost dropped the pail of water when you saw what he was doing. Somehow he managed to nose open up the chest containing your mother's things, and was insistently sniffing the tapestry.

"Ah! No, no, no!" You frantically say, setting the water down to rush over, gently shoving his snout to the side to close the chest.

"Gah..." You sigh in relief, and smile softly at the wolf, reaching out to pinch and squish his cheek. And surprisingly, he took it well, making a little "whurf!" as you do.

"Don't go through my stuff, it's not very polite after I risked my arse you take care of you." You chuckle, setting yourself to task of boiling the water with the ground herbs. You kneel next to the remaining bit of water on the floor, dipping a rag into the pail and making a clicking noise with your teeth.

The wolf tipped his head to the side, ears pricking up at the noise as he slowly moseyed over to you shyly.

"Oh relax, I won't poison ya." You chuckle, dabbing the soaked cloth onto his fur, cleaning him of the muck.

He of course, did not like this. He whimpered and tucked his tail between his legs, his gorgeous brown eyes pleading with you.

"Ah! That won't work on me, Mister... You need to be clean before I can clean your wounds!" You cluck at him, not falling for his cute little attempt.

Thankfully, he sits there and lets you gently massage the mud away, carefully cleaning around his wound sites before hastily grabbing the pot of boiling water and pouring some into a wooden bowl.

You scratch behind one of his ears and say softly, "Now... I'm going to take care of you, okay? Now... just let me..."

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

"No! Down! Bad wolf!" You groan, watching as his tail wagged happily, one of your kirdles firmly in his jaws, daring you to come get it.

"Ooooh! I should have left you in the woods!"

His ears flatten back and his eyes get big, giving you the sweetest, saddest look you've ever seen...

And it definitely broke you.

"Ah... You little... mouth off my clothes!" You grunt, tugging the garment from between his teeth, groaning at the sight of tears from his fangs.

He dropped down onto his front paws, wagging his tail happily as he makes a playful whine and yip.

"Oi! Ya seem just fine now!" You scold the animal, shaking the torn kirdle in front of him.

It was true. In just one day, your furry companion seemed to have healed miraculously faster than what was natural. It concerned you... but you didn't feel threatened by the creature's playful antics.

If anything, having him around made you feel less... lonely.

Dinner was almost ready, a simple stew with vegetables and salted meats tossed in. You weren't sure if wolves could eat such a meal, but you would feel awful if you were eating and your new friend merely had to sit and watch.

You sigh and toss your clothes aside, watching with a snort as the wolf playfully dove for it, rolling around and kicking it with his feet as you used your ladle to scoop two bowls.

You curled your feet beneath you as you plopped a spoon into your bowl before placing the spare on the floor. Your wolf's ears perked up and he sniffed the air, licking his chops as he abandoned your torn-up kirdle in favor of investigating the food you placed for him.

You smiled around your mouthful as he accidentally dipped his nose too deep into the broth, whipping his head around with a heavy snort.

"Ah, that's not how you eat, by the way..." You hum innocently, and again, your wolf gives you an almost human reaction, flattening his ears back as he seems to glare at you for a moment, before lapping at the food, curling his tongue around to eat the bits of veggies and meat.

"Oh, I'd love to keep you, but you don't belong here, fella." You say, scratching his ear softly in an affectionate way. Your skin crawls when you hear a mournful howl travel from the forest, across the fields, and into your house.

Your wolf whimpers and looks at you.

"As soon as you're ready, I'll sneak you back out to the woods." You promise him.

"I won't let anyone hurt you."

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

He looked out from the treeline, his glowing white eyes staring out from the darkness.

A large, fluffy animal--a gorgeous white wolf, fur stained with mud--sidled up next to him, ears flattened back.

"Still no sign of him?" He sighed, frustrated.

The wolf whimpered, his tail tucking and nose dipping towards the ground in a response that seemed to say "no".

"Damn it!" The man roared, his fists balling tight as he began to pace angrily.

"Still no sign of your third?" A deep voice rumbled from the trees.

He lifted his gaze to spot him in all his imposing glory--Khonshu; god of the night sky, the moon, justice and many things in-between. His lithe frame ominously perched on the limb of an ancient, thick tree. One of his legs dangled down while the other supported his arm, his dominant hand clutching his staff in a tight-fisted grip as he stared down at him.

But mostly, he was his fist of vengeance. He was dispensing justice against those who imposed their will on the weak; like the other Englishmen who oppressed the local populace with their threats of jail, execution...

He also had to deal with bandits. Bandits, constantly seemed to prey upon travelers trying to find better places to live, to eke out a livelihood to support their families.

But right now, he was on edge.

He was incomplete. He was missing a vital part of himself. Someone he would not be able to fully function without.

Finally, his tongue unglued itself from the roof of his mouth and allowed him to speak.

"No."

"He is alive. I can feel it." Khonshu sighed, almost sounding bored. "You and your wolves... Sometimes they are a gift... other times it is a curse."

It was true... there weren't many of his kind left, and they were useful as a commodity, but also a vast hindrance if they were separated. Very few were born after being hunted to near extinction, and even fewer still were bitten and turned.

He tipped his head to the side, "He will come back. But until then, we have work to do. There is a group of soldiers that have taken women and children from their homes. I'm sure you can deduce what it is that they intend to do to them. I want you to stop them and set their captives free." Khonshu tapped his staff against the thick bark of the tree, and in a sharp breeze, he vanished.

"Right..." He said, his throat tight; his body thrumming with anxiety, his hand shaking immensely at the strain of lacking such a vital part of himself. He wondered still, if he would be able to control himself, to hold himself back without him.

His wolf companion moved forward, nudging his snout into the palm of his hand, whimpering softly.

Sparing one last glance over the countryside, he made a hefty sigh.

"Where the hell are you?"

🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺

Pt. 2: I will get to it eventually, I swear you guys

Extra super late author's note:

Yeah it's gonna be at least one or two more parts. I am gonna split it up to ease on the scrolling time for you guys! That and it feels neater than cramming so many lazy time skips into one post. I am going to get the rest of my drafts cleared (hopefully) and begin eating away some of those asks I have piled up in my inbox (that Tumblr didn't manage to delete by some miracle...)

My trip might be postponed, dealing with a lot at home, like me almost burning the house down today and almost passing out from the damn smoke because wooooo fire is bad

If I didn't have bad luck, I'd have none whatsoever!

[hibiscusel]

it’s upsetting to me that despite setting up each league member to have a specific and beautiful depiction of the ignorances of hero society in their own way, the story never really considers their words at all in making change for the betterment of said society. these are my thoughts regarding the conclusion of the villains, by each character…

shigaraki’s entire character boils down to the fundamental message of society, both heroes and civilians, ignoring the downtrodden who are in dire need of saving, just because it’s inconvenient for them. shigaraki represents those downtrodden people - the neglected children, the poor, the desperate. he represents that criminals are made, not born. yet, despite the beautiful set up we had with his entire being paralleling izuku’s, his monologue during his fight with endeavour, and him deliberately stating he needs to be a hero for the villains, this is just thrown to the side in the end. izuku didn’t save anything when it came to shigaraki even though he vowed to do so when nana shimura asked him if he had the ability to kill her grandson. he said he wouldn’t, but that’s what happened in the end, isn’t it? was the crying child within him who dreamed of being a hero not enough to communicate his humanity to the heroes? in the end he was just a small boy, remaining neglected by the people who were meant to hold his hands and save him. he didn’t even get to reconnect with the other league members - his dear family, in the end. kurogiri had said, his friends were waiting for him.

toga represented the rejection of people with unconventional quirks and how she’s punished for just being who she is. she can’t help who she is. in the bnha society, since her quirk isn’t glamorous or conventional, she is looked down upon and immediately labelled inherently evil for acting upon her desires. nobody in her previous life tried to understand her, not even her parents, as they resorted to counselling in hopes of suppressing her over helping her. and yes, ochako did understand her in the end which can somewhat serve as closure for toga because her love was returned, it’s still unfortunate that only ochako will understand her and nobody else. society will go on judging people with said unconventional quirks without hesitation, not taking the time to understand how hard it is to be shunned over something out of your control.

speaking of the view of differing quirks, it brings us now to spinner and his mini-arc of fighting for the visibility and acceptance of heteromorphs. we literally see the existence of cult groups in the story that are against the existence of heteromorphs in society because of their appearance. my complaints are mainly directed at horikoshi for fumbling the concept of discrimination and fighting for the liberation of the oppressed, especially since it directly reflects concepts of racism, colourism, and alienation in real life. although, i would be lying to say it isn’t a somewhat realistic depiction of how fighting for rights is widely frowned upon. in order to make change come about, society must be disrupted. that is exactly what spinner did in the end, and was met with shoji and koda telling him he must sit and wait peacefully for change to come about - which we all know does nothing in the long run. it’s so upsetting to me that spinner, the one who is undoubtedly the closest to shigaraki within the league, had the outcome he did. he had so much compassion for his cause in bringing about stain’s will, and it just hurts seeing his moment watered down to his nomufication and demonization of the heteromorph revolution.

then of course, is dabi. his entire drive was to prove how terrible of a person endeavor is, and how contradictory it is that someone like him saves people for a living. dabi is an embodiment of all of endeavor’s sins, coming back to put him in his place. however, in dabi’s conclusion with all his family members being there when he nearly combusted, endeavor’s words of atonement (i’m using this word very lightly because what really did he atone for anyways) will never be heard by the greater society. all the civilians will understand is that endeavor brought down his estranged villain son. people will most likely move on from the fact that he abused his family in order to focus on his ‘bringing down’ of dabi (which honestly was all on shoto’s part) and ultimately saving the day. people will not take dabi’s existence as a catalyst for critical thought into who exactly they call heroes and question the integrity of heroes - what are the kind of people that save them.

speaking of questioning the integrity of heroes, this leads into stain. i don’t have too much to say about him but i think it was stupid to just have afo kill him. he wasn’t a villain, he was a vigilante. i think it was such a waste of his character to just have him show up in the story, get jailed, and then have one interaction with all might. i feel he could’ve done so much more with communicating his cause to society, and in reaching regular civilians rather than sparking a flame in the hearts of some villains such as spinner. what a shame. what a waste.

also, i want to mention twice. i loved twice so much, he definitely stuck with me. i thought the concept of “all it takes is one bad day” was such a perfect thing to include for a villain character. his entire life was changed for the worse over a motorcycle accident when he was a teenager. though living in his loneliness which was ultimately destroying him, he had met the league. the members of the league, especially toga, served not as a stepping stone to use and swing his life around in that way, but simply as friends. a family, that he found a place in despite everything else that had gone wrong for him. he had this one thing going for him, and he was abruptly torn away from it with the touch of a feather. he wasn’t even asking for much, he had just found his people - his place in the society that rejected him over a very human mistake, where he could live as himself. and to top it all off because apparently that wasn’t bad enough, shigaraki doesn’t even know he died - and if he did, there was nothing shown for it. another fumble by horikoshi.

tldr; what pains me the most in all of this, is that not only are all the league’s reasons for fighting wholly overlooked by the heroes, but none of what they stood for is going to be considered in the end for reconstructing a just society. their words, their pains, and their dreams are all going to be brushed aside in preference for society simply celebrating their deaths and incarceration. because in the end, all the humanity within themselves that they bared to the world in their fight is going to amount to nothing to people who just wanted them gone. nobody is there to mourn them.

and it hurts so bad.

[suvidrache]

Someone Like Him

age in bio when interacting. minors do not interact.

Word Count: 533 | Read it on AO3 | Masterlist

Mezo had never known love. He had always been treated differently, ridiculed, and even made a child cry. Simply because he didn't look like everyone else did. His quirk made him look different. He hid his face. He wasn't going to hurt anyone else. He didn't want to hurt anyone else. He wanted to be loved and to be accepted. It didn't matter how close he was to someone. He wasn't going to let them see his face. He didn't want them to feel the pain of seeing him. He didn't want to hurt anyone again.

When you came into his life, he was hesitant. Sure, you liked him, but it was nothing more than a friendship. He was wrong, but he wouldn't be the one to make the first move. How could someone love someone like him? 

“Mezo, do you want to go on a date with me?”

“A date?” He asked, stammering over his words as he spoke. Surely, it was a misunderstanding. There was no way that you would go on a date with him. Maybe you were going on a date and needed protection. That had to be it.

"Yes, a date, you and me.”

It wasn't a misunderstanding. Your intentions were clear. Maybe it was some sort of sick joke.

“You don't have to go if you don't want to.” You said, trying to reassure him, that it was optional.

“No, I want to... I just don't understand why me.” He asked, looking at you, hoping for some sort of explanation.

“I like you, I… just...” you said, taking the time to think about your words. “I like you; I just thought maybe I should try to ask you out. I wasn't sure if you would be interested or not… I always wanted to be more than friends.”

You couldn't see his face, but he was blushing under his mask.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“I've never had anyone like me before…” He said, his voice trailing off as he looked away.

“You don't have to show me your face if you don't want to. It's okay. I understand.”

“Thank you.”

You both went on your date, taking the time to get to know one another better. He was still slightly apprehensive. You were both friends, and he trusted you, but nobody asked him out. No one wanted to date him. Still, you continued to go on dates with him. He never voiced his concerns because maybe it was an actual date. Surely, if it were a joke, it wouldn't continue on for as long as it has. It had been months, and you still showed love and support for him. You never once asked to see his face. After months, you were both alone. He finally pulled down his mask to show you. He wouldn't be surprised by your reaction either way.

His face was longer than most. He had no noticeable nose. He had scarring on his face. You looked at him and smiled. He blinked.

“You look beautiful.”

He blushed at your comments.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

He was surprised that you weren't bothered by his face. In fact, you found it beautiful. No one would ever label him beautiful.

© SUVIDRACHE — do not copy, translate, modify, or plagiarize my work. reblogs are appreciated!

Tag List: @eli-chris, @ssbptigers / Join my tag list here!

[ordinaryschmuck]

Full Family AU Part 25

It was recess time for Luz's grade, all her classmates running around on the playground equipment, screaming off the top of their lungs, pretending to eat wood chips, and being too much for the supervising teachers to keep up with. Luz, in particular was walking around, holding a notepad and a crayon she borrowed from inside. She then walked over to three boys on the jungle gym, literally hanging around.

"Hello!" Luz chirped, hiding her nerves. "I'm pretending to be a news reporter. Want to answer some questions?"

The boys all either nodded or mumbled a, "Yes." Luz smiled as she flipped open her pad to a page. At the top were the words "Having a sibling," with a line going down the middle, one side labeled as "Good" and another labeled as "Bad."

"First question," she said. "Do any of you have siblings?"

Two of the boys raised their hands.

"I don't," the third said. "But I can do this."

He then proceeded press his hands against his cheeks and blow a raspberry. It got his friends to laugh, but Luz wasn't in a laughing mood.

"For you two, would you say it's good or bad to have a sibling?"

"Bad," both said, making Luz look up from her notepad in shock.

"Really? You both think that?"

"Yeah," one said. "My little brother gets more toys than me on Christmas. I barely got everything on my list last year while he got literally everything."

"And I have an older brother," the other boy claimed. "He's always so mean to me. Sitting on top of me, farting in my face, calling me a 'Buttwipe.' I don't even know why, he just does it."

"That's...interesting to know," Luz told them. "Thank you for your time."

She walked away from them, adding two notches to the bad side of her paper.

'So, it's not good to have a young or older sibling,' Luz thought. 'Is Vee older than me? Or am I older? Does that mean I have to be mean? But I don't want to be mean...'

Luz eventually made her way over to a girl sitting in a patch of dirt, drawing circles with a stick.

"Hello," Luz said, getting her attention. "What'cha doing?"

"Drawing circles," Bobbi responded. "What are you doing?"

"Playing reporter. Can I ask you what having a sibling's like?"

"Oh."

"But my cousins do," the girl spoke up, more attentive. "They're twins."

"Oh!" Luz held up her notepad in anticipation. "They have to get along, right?"

"Not really," the girl said with a shrug, causing Luz to frown. "They fight a lot. Every time I see them, in fact."

"Oh...good to know..." Luz trudged off, adding two extra notches in the "Bad" side.

'There has to be someone who has good siblings...'

So, she set out to talk to everyone in her playground, hoping to find at least one notch in the good side of her paper.

Only to be met with a similar pattern of answers.

"My sister got an ice cream for getting hurt, but I couldn't get any! Even though I cried a lot for one!"

"My brother won't stop screaming when Mommy tries to feed him. How is it so hard to eat?"

"I can't even play with my brother without Mom saying I'm being too rough. Kevin was rough with me, why can't I be rough with Dylan?"

"She won't stop crying!"

"I wish I was an only child..."

Kid after kid after kid had the same thing about how awful it is having a sibling. Each answer was worse than the other, with Luz sitting up against the monkey bars, staring at the several notches she made on the bad side. The only ones that were on the good side were just notches that carried over from the bad because Luz ran out of room. Tears started to fill in Luz's eyes as worry began to grow in her heart.

'If having a sibling is this bad...what are me and Vee going to be like...?'

[averagewriter-inthedark]

My Bestie’s A Genius | Shuri Headcanon

Link to my marvel masterlist

Being the child of Tony Stark, having a genius level IQ, and best friends with Princess Shuri of Wakanda would look like:

Okay so believe it or not you two became friends through social media and were literally anonymous mutuals for some time. I’m talking you both either were on Tumblr of all places or had secret instagram accounts that only followed select individuals. You were already a semi-public figure with close to a million followers, but had a secret account dedicated for snooping people you admired. For Shuri, Wakanda kept their way of life private so she had an anonymous page where she showcased her creations that did not involve vibranium or labeled it as a different metal to throw people off.

Both of you knew the other was a genius which is what started the friendship in the first place. You had followed Shuri’s private page and she followed your public one but it wasn’t until you slid in her dms to compliment a deign she posted that you two began talking.

Shuri had let you know from the beginning that she loved to build tech, while you focused on the field of Quantum physics. That’s what your private instagram was mostly used, but you kept any information linking back to you secret. Mostly you talked about the science and offered advice to people seeking education/work in STEM.

Both of you enjoyed the anonymity without the pressure of the outside world. it gave you some peace of mind being able to confide without judgment for who your father was. And for Shuri, she wasn’t looked at as just a princess of a nation. You both admired each other’s intelligence and wit.

It wasn’t until you both skipped on some personal details when messaging each other that you guys were like “wait, are you….who I think you are.”

Of course you two knew of each other and were the same age, but had yet to formally meet after the chaos of recent years. The whole Accords thing brought a lot of changes to both of your lives being that Shuri lost her father and you witnessed the break down of the Avengers who were like a second family to you.

The first FaceTime call you guys had was wild. Shuri, mindful of what you saw around her, couldn’t believe she hadn’t figured out who you were after you said your ‘family’ was in the public eye a lot because of what they did. Not to mention you said your father went to MIT & owned a large company that your grandfather founded.

“I’m surprised it took so long for us to finally meet. I’ve been following your personal page for years and was fascinated when you manipulated quantum energy for one of your prototypes.” “Same goes for you, Shuri. I’ve been a fan of your page since you created it! Did you really develop your own A.I system when you were fourteen? That’s so freakin cool.”

You guys continued to talk for months and soon your friendship blossomed with you guys texting nearly every other day. You talked school, work, ranted about people who annoyed you and romantic interests you were involved in. “Finding a suitor is the least of my concern nowadays. I just want to spend the hours in my lab where my devices don’t talk back to me.” “Ain’t that the truth. Romance is exhausting.”

“How was the banquet last night?” “Boring as always. Just a bunch of fancy people in suits and gowns who continue to look down on me cause I’m younger though I have more accomplishments than they could dream of.”

“Did you complete that update you were telling me about?” “Yes and I’m so pleased with how it turned out. I had to remind my brother again that just because something works doesn’t mean it can’t be improved.”

Eventually you two considered the other your best friend. For two years you maintained contact and when you developed the hologram system to be long range with the help of F.R.I.D.A.Y, you were able to project the other to y’all’s location. “Holy shit! This is amazing!”

You guys give each other advice, gossip on the latest celebrity drama, pick out outfits whenever you have an event and share ideas about designs.

There were future plans for you two to meet in person, with Shuri hoping to travel to Boston where you attended school MIT after graduation high school early. But to both of your surprise, you ended up in Wakanda with Steve, Bruce, Sam, Rhodey, Vision, Wanda, and Natasha after your father went missing following a fight with aliens sent by Thanos. When you got the news you raced to Avengers compound where you met up the the others.

Steve was hesitant to let you come, but when it was revealed where they were going you said, “I can help. Trust me, both Shuri and I can figure something out.” Everyone became confused with Rhodey going, “How is it you know the princess of Wakanda?” “She’s my bestie. A genius one at that.”

The second you stepped into the lab Shuri squealed, ignoring the array of looks you two were receiving as she pulled you into a hug. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” “Eh, though I’d surprise you.” T’challa looked between the two of you, before raising his brows to his sister for an answer. “You two know each other?” “I told you, brother, my bestie’s a genius.”

[chronicowboy]

"I'm sorry," Eddie blinks, leaning across the kitchen island, "they asked you to what?"

"Lend them some sperm." Buck shrugs, fiddling with the label on his beer.

"Lend them some sperm?" Eddie repeats. The words taste heavy and clumsy on his tongue, but he swallows the bile that rises with them.

"Eddie," Buck sighs with the slump of his shoulders, "its a figure of speech."

"What are they gonna do? Give it back to you after they're done?" Eddie scoffs, tries not to think about a blue-eyed kid with golden curls running around somewhere in San Diego.

"What's your problem, man?"

"Buck, are you seriously considering this?"

"Its my year of—"

"Yes to possibilities." Eddie rolls his eyes and vows to burn every single self-help book in the tri-state area. "I know. But this isn't a decision you say yes to just because."

"The book said—"

"I don't care what the book said!" Eddie wonders if he could shake some sense into Buck, but even with his new and improved biceps he thinks that'd be too exhausting a task. "You can't seriously be considering this."

"What if I am?" Buck retorts, all the fight leaving his voice.

"Buck," Eddie murmurs, "aren't you fed up of being spare parts?" Buck flinches at that.

"Defective parts," Buck corrects, brandishing his pointer finger, "but this is proof that I'm not!"

"Jesus Christ, Evan." Eddie runs a hand through his hair before gripping the edge of the countertop. "You can't just say that. What are you talking about?"

"Somebody wants to have my kid, Eddie." There's desperation in Buck's words now, something pleading in his eyes. "Am I supposed to ignore that?"

"And you really think you could be happy knowing your child was out there calling someone else dad, quite possibly not knowing who you are?" Eddie knows he couldn't be happy, if Shannon had never told him about Christopher and broken up with him instead, if there was a little Buck somewhere in the world that Chris couldn't grow up with, if there was a baby Buck Eddie never got to hold and call his own—

"As long as they were happy." Buck breathes, but he's frowning down at the bottle in his hands now like it'll give him the answers to the universe.

"Fucking Christ, Buck."

"Eddie," Buck turns his wide, imploring eyes on him then, "this may be my only chance."

"You know what?" Eddie slips off his stool and grabs his keys from the counter. "I can't do this. Not today." He grabs his jacket and stops at the door, spinning to face his best friend. "Fuck you, Buckley."

"What the hell, man?" Buck hisses, hopping off his own stool. "Why are you acting like this? It has nothing to do with you!"

"It has everything to do with me!" Eddie shouts back. He's a step closer now, practically toe to toe with Buck and suddenly he remembers a conversation in this very same kitchen two years ago, dark eyes and a hand on a belt buckle. He exhales his anger, Buck doesn't need this from him. "Do you know why I came over here today?"

"No." Buck mumbles, scuffing the toe of his sneaker against the floor.

"I came over here because Chris has been lying to me."

"What?" Buck looks up at him like he's been slapped.

"He's been lying for two whole weeks and I had no idea until today." Eddie clenches his jaw against the tears stinging his eyes. "My kid is lying to me because he doesn't feel like he can be honest with me, and you were the only person I wanted to talk to." His voice cracks and he takes a step backwards, falling back against the wall when his shoulder hits the doorframe. "We know so many parents, but you were the only person I wanted right there with me when I found out because you're the only one who understands—who loves—Christopher like I do."

"Eddie." Buck breathes, his own eyes glistening with tears.

"Forget it, Buck." Eddie shakes his head. "Do whatever you want. But don't you dare make the decision just because its your only chance like you don't already have a twelve year old son who adores you."

Eddie has always been greedy when it comes to Buck, but this time he doesn't allow himself that one last look. He leaves before his world can come crumbling down around him.