#my friend is having a stressful family emergency

[timogsilangan]

i rlly do not think white global northerners understand how fucking bad the anti sinovac psyop was in context of the philippines and other targeted countries being from the global south, with a history of economic and military intervention and destabilization by the usa specifically.

i live in the philippines and sinovac was the only available vaccine for MONTHS of the pandemic. people were fucking dying and we had no pfizer, no j&j, no astrazeneca, no moderna. sinovac was the ONLY vaccine supply we had. and the supply wasnt even enough for even my small city. we do not have the infrastructure to manufacture our own vaccines and tests. we were entirely reliant on imports from other countries who Did have the capacity to manufacture such things

i got up early for several days straight to go to a pop up walk in vaccination site (were talking there by 7:30am) set up in a fucking public basketball court because it was the only way to get vaccinated, and 3 times i had to go back empty handed so to speak after exposing myself to this massive opportunity for transmission because they fucking ran out of shots and prioritized the elderly and disabled and i didnt have my legal pwd (person with disability) card yet. i had to go to a different barangay (local unit of government) to get my shot MONTHS LATER and only got mine because one of my family was in the local govt and reserved some shots for us.

many filipinos use facebook which is where some of the psyop was conducted because you can use it for free on your phone and it is often where news is disseminated. i know we have that joke about People Believing Anything They See On Facebook but i cannot stress enough that people here get local news from fb the same way you (used to) get news from twitter about shit like localized emergencies and whatnot.

because we are third world, you know that the state of our education system is nothing compared to the states. media and news literacy here is dangerously low and the population is sensitive to mis/disinformation, as can be seen during the 2022 presidential elections where the usa Also interfered lol. i cannot stress enough how much of the population was susceptible to this psyop, especially those in poverty who couldnt afford proper education. hell, even educated people fell for this shit. do you think jhunjhun who didnt finish grade 6 would be able to identify disguised foreign intervention that was in his own language?

we were already recovering from public scrutiny of a different vaccine, a dengue vaccine, which lowered public trust in inoculation. and then the usa goes and does THIS??? i cannot emphasize enough that they are directly responsible for the tens and thousands of unvaccinated covid deaths. they are responsible for my friends having to bury their unvaxxed parents and grandparents at the age of 19. they are responsible for mass death and disability.

but were just a country in the periphery. so who cares about us? our lives are worthless to the usa, which is why they admitted that they did this when they would otherwise "never" to their own population. third worlders arent real people to your government. we are merely statistics and a petri dish for experimentation. so who cares if we die? the real important thing isnt our lives, its that the usa has more control over us than china.

[babybearnini]

Hate that my insurance is now not wanting to pay for one of my inhalers bc it's not for emergencies and it's for maintenance like what do you mean

[nikoco11]

hi serious talk time! not my usual kind of post and it’s going to be a little long, sorry! but i’d appreciate some help with sharing 🙇

recently my very very very close friend tads got kicked out from their home alongside several members of their family, including a teenager.

they have emergency commissions open currently! here’s a really cute animated gif of a character i designed they did for me!!!!! this could be you and ur oc!!!

below i’ll link their kofi alongside their twitter, but i’d like to request just as a personal favor that you tip them extra (or even just send a couple dollars and don’t comm at all) to help lighten their workload.

their slots are also limited so if they’re sold out already, just toss them $5!

i love ‘em a lot and know personally that even drawing a little, esp for an emergency like this, takes a huge toll off your energy and health and i don’t want them more stressed out than they are.

thank you always!! here’s their twitter as well

( their tumblr @tadsdy but they’re not as active here!)

[toastsnaffler]

man i cant get a single nights fucking rest can i

[anadiasmount]

hello again? - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: weddings and dates. feelings tested to their breaking point when one of you appears with a date. the night is young, is there still a chance to make things right even when it feels wrong?

wc: 4k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: HAD SOO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS!!! this wa smeant to be posted yesterday so I'm sorry for the small delay!! i love the drama and angst but fluffy ending as promised!!🤞🏻 like always hope you enjoy! 🤍

“i going to need five painkillers by the end of the night,” the bride, well, your best friend says. you laugh as you finish tucking in the last few bobby pins in her updo, making sure no flyaway or small bumps are seen, everything sleek and perfect. “i am too. or maybe many many many tequila shots, whichever is first available,” you joke. 

“you should be all set!” you say cheerfully with a full smile on your face, hands resting on her shoulders as she admires your work. “it looks absolutely perfect, thank you! you’re truly a life savor i was ready to cancel the whole wedding,” your friend's eyes glimmer in relief, having a huge weight lifted off her shoulders as you did her hair. the hairstylist had to cancel the day of due to having a family emergency, but refunding her money was the least she could do. 

all the bridesmaids surrounded you, complimenting the hair and most importantly the bride who could just be overall thankful and full of emotions. the photographer came in, taking individual and group pictures of everyone, and opening a bottle of champagne to start the day. 

there were still a couple of hours left so you did some touch-ups on hair and makeup, assuring to add some powder to set and spray a setting mist to ensure it would last all day, also being generous with the hair spray. you changed into the olive green-toned dress and the black pumps for the evening, the dress hitting the correct angle and not interfering with you walk. a simple gold bracelet and matching earrings completed the look, walking out and earning praises from your girlfriends. 

your heart began to race faster approaching the reception, suppressing any feelings away because you felt it wasn't the time. the wedding nerves were killing you but also seeing jude again was making you stress more than it shouldn't have. how he was. what he'd wear. if he was even going to be there?

with jude's schedule, it was hard to even make time for each other, being one of the main reasons for your messy breakup. your promotion to the law firm, move to spain, his recovery, media, games, and the always questioning each other's every move. it took a toll especially on you, crossing yourself every night knowing you couldn't do anything about it except long for him.

he was your every thought since then. if he missed you? how his life was going? if he also desired to get back together? as hard as it was you still felt more than love for him. the feeling in your tummy spreading as you remember the first times with him. the kiss, the date, the sex, the love, all of it.

"i've ordered your favorite, now tell me where i can help you," jude says kissing just below your ear returning from outside where he placed a call. you hand him your flashcards pulling out your notebook to read the different scenarios that match with the words.

"just so you know, before we start, i'll have you know i want something in return," jude whispers with a cheeky grin. "of course you do, what is it," you ask teasingly your arm wrapping around his shoulders waiting for his response.

"a date. i want you to go out on a date with me y/n..." jude says earning a silence from you. your nails rake against the back of his neck, "i'd love too. just so you know, depending how much you help me with determine the commitment to our first date..."

"i promise to be on my best behavior then."

"y/n! are you ready?" your friend waved her hand in the air with a confused look, you immediately snapped back into reality as you stepped out to the reception. "does everyone have their flowers? remember they go in your right hand!" the party organizer reminded you as you quickly got into line with the groomsmen.

it all happened quickly, you smiled at alex who quickly got into place arm wrapped with yours as you walked down the aisle as rehersed. the reception was absolutely beautiful. the tears, the vows, the laughter, the ceremony couldn't have been more perfect. you hated to admit but your eyes did search around for jude, and once you saw him, a sensation in you went numb.

there jude sat with a girl to his side who clearly hadn't read the dress code. placing kisses all over his hand and cheek, the love dazed in her eyes as she stared at jude. jude did reach over a few times and she giggled, making your weak heart wrench further.

jude on the other hand started to get impatient, especially with carla who wouldn't stop annoying him and trying to get his attention every few seconds. since breaking up with you he couldn't stand the PDA towards him or seeing it. jude quickly found it difficult since most of his teammates were married or in committed relationships.

it seemed like everywhere he went, there were reminders of you lingering around. the library you studied and where he took you on a desk in a quiet corner, the cafe where you'd get your morning coffee with him, even his training center, and the beranabeu where he hoped and waited you'd be there. he was miserable and driven to his breaking point.

jude began to regret bringing carla, as she got the wrong message and was all over him. the wedding you planned to go to together, where you were supposed to be his date, not her. but his stupid jealousy and talks from others were the fault he was here today. he was anticipating meeting your boyfriend or date, make the message clear he was going to be in the picture.

he hated to think of someone else when it wasn't him. it ticked him off and he knew he couldn't do anything about it because you weren't there anymore. but no one said he couldn't feel the way he felt. to hate the man who would forever make you laugh, or earn your love at the end of the day.

all those promises, the kisses, the hugs, the forever after you guys created was long gone. it hurt jude to the point where he had nightmares, not being able to sleep. it didn't help when they teased or made comments to him. or the fact a rumor went around you moved on and had someone else.

"carla, do you mind getting some drinks while i say hello to some friends?" jude kindly asks removing her hands from his chest. "anything for us jude! i'll wait for you by our table," she winks at him making jude internally cringe as she walks off.

he dabs up his friends, congratulating the groom and making small talk. "oye jude! que pasa chaval!? i didn't think you'd come," his shorter teammate brahim greeted him. "well i'm here aren't i? how are you? como estais?" jude mocked earning a chuckle from him.

all of his teammates suddenly surrounded him, laughing and discussing the plays for the game before, and the tactics for the upcoming one. jude looked around trying to look for you and carla. he fixed his suit every now and then, entranced with his friends. "who did you come with?" asked brahim, looking around for what presumably could be you.

"an old friend, her name is carla," jude winces at his friend's look. “i thought you were coming with y/n?” asks brahim earning a deep scowl from jude. “no we uh- we broke up a while ago,” jude squints his eyes, eyes finding you where you laughed loudly with your friends.

“but she’s here?”

“yeah but probably not alone,” jude retorted still convinced you were seeing someone and they were here. “what?” brahim laughs at him earning an eye roll from jude, “you can’t be serious! i’m pretty sure she’s single,” brahim says. “what are you playing at here jude?”

“nothing. i’m here for the wedding,” jude scoffs. “yeah sure you are,” brahim squints his eyes then looks around starting to walk off. “when you come to your senses, i’ll wait for you over there. remember not everything seems to be exactly as you seem jude…” he smacks his shoulders and walks off.

you’d probably been on your third glass of champagne by now, enjoying the presence with your girls as you spoke about the wedding and old throwbacks together. the speeches were made and the newly weds had their first dance already. anyone at the event center was dancing, talking, or drinking.

“i’ll be right back, i'm pissing myself,” you excuse yourself laughing at joke as you step away to do your business. you brought along your bag, washing your hands and touching your your makeup that had smudged a bit after the maid of honor speech. applying a fresh coat of lipstick and gloss you dabbed the excess off and headed outside.

you motion to your friends you we're head to the bar, them mouthing to bring shots of tequila and some peanuts to eat. “i don’t think we’ve met before,” a strange voice says behind you, you turn slowly, feeling your chest sink deeper as you place a small smile. “i'm carla,” the girl introduced herself, watching as you hesitated taking her hand.

“i feel like i’ve seen you around somewhere, i just can’t put a finger to it. you know huge town but small circle of friends, i was invited last minute to the wedding so,” carla spoke falsely making you want to walk out the conversation. you nodded along not really caring and wanting to go back. part of you hated the way you were treating her, but it was all the jealousy talking. she had done nothing to you besides show up here with him.

“i’m sorry but my friends are waiting for me,” you apologize letting the bar tender know where you were seated. you grabbed a fresh glass of champagne and standing up, grabbing your bag and walked away. “leaving so soon? i was hoping we could talk,” she approaches you again making you turn again but this time a bit agitated since you were catching on to what she was doing.

“like i said, my friends are waiting for me,” you shrug nonchalantly seeing her cock her head to the said and look you up and down. “well i didn’t catch your name,” she sarcastically says, the anger building in you slowly as she spoke and wanted to rub onto your face who she was here with.

“i’m y/n, but i feel like you know that already.”

“oh you’re the ex-girlfriend!” the girl enhanced the oh, with a fake smile. rage burned in your veins, needing to have resistance before you put her in her place. she had been on it the whole night, and she began to test your limits now. 

“you must be the new girlfriend!” you returned the fake smile and took a huge sip of the champagne. “almost couldn’t tell…” you shrugged looking for an escape route but landing eyes with the man you avoided the whole night. his mouth agape and wide eyes. 

he wore a black suit and white button up, leaving three buttons undone, hair styled and a fancy watch adorning his wrist. you felt tugged into the eye contact, needing and wanting to be the one next to him tonight. but instead here you were, giving your attention to the person you hated most. 

your jaw clenched, turning your attention to your glass where you swirled the drink. “it’s a shame you guys didn’t work, but don’t worry! i’ll take better care of him,” she snarled. “jude spoke so much of you, honestly don’t see anything fascinating about you. have a goodnight.” 

you downed the drink in one go, feeling the burn in your throat as you placed the glass onto the empty table. jude frowned at your state, still overly confused and waiting for your date to appear. then it all clicked in his head, you didn’t bring anyone, you didn’t bring a date. the jealousy and anger disappearing in him slowly as he watched you sit down and sigh covering your head in your hands. 

“what did you say to her?” he questioned his date, seeing a smirk appear on her lips. jude turned back to you where you looked around in a trance, knowing immediately you felt the anxiety in you. 

“what had to be said. it’s all done.” 

“what’s done? what are you doing?” jude spit out dragging her to an empty hall where she just chuckled. “i told her what needed to be said. closed a chapter and now we’re starting a new one,” carla spoke crossing her arms. “i brought you here as a companion, not as my girlfriend or anything more. i think you’re getting the wrong message here,” jude said shaking his head.

“what do you mean jude?”

“i never asked you to do that, carla. you had no right to do that. i brought you here as a companion, not my girlfriend or anything else,” jude makes it clear to her seeing confusion flash into her eyes, now beaming with embarrassment. “i don't get it jude?”

“that i don’t intend to start a relationship with you. i’m sorry if i have given that impression but i can’t. what did you say to her?" jude demands his tone going softly as he walks towards her. "i thought i had said what needed to be said so we could finally be together!"

"y/n is too busy with herself. she got herself a promotion and is focused on her studies! she can't give you what you want and ask for jude! she's nothing compared to me," carla points to herself as she speaks all mumbled.

"and you can? what you did just now, what impression does that give to me carla? the way you're speaking about someone who you don't know, and never will?" jude defends you, deeming the need to even if you weren't there. she opens her mouth to speak but closes it immediately, knowing nothing could fix the situation. "i'm sorry-"

"save it. we both know you don't mean it," jude scoffs and walks off, back into the reception where you're nowhere to be found. he wandered off for a few minutes looking for you, even asking some people around him and they all gave him the same response that they hadn't seen you.

you had walked off back to your friends after a mini breakdown and questioning your life. beginning to blame yourself for everything when it shouldn't. it was both your faults but yet it hurt to hear her say nothing was fascinating about you. you shouldn't have let her words get to heart but what if they were true?

what if you were stuck in your own world and couldn't bother to make time for him? what if you didn't give enough attention especially when he most needed it? to be worried only in the moment and not live your life to its fullest? a couple shots and dancing later you found yourself seated at your table alone, watching you friends dance without their heels drunkly laughing off.

"where are you even going?" jude asks you, seeing how you packed every item away into suitcases. "clearly far way from you. i can't stand it anymore, you're never here jude!" you yell throwing your hand sin the air.

"you're never here and i'm tired of it jude. it's always some bullshit excuse and if you truly cared you'd see that but you don't. i'm not wanted here so the faster i leave, the better for us," you say zipping up the final case.

"you're being ridiculous," jude laughs in disbelief, approaching you but you warn him to not get near you. "this is what i mean! i can hardly recognize you nowadays! i'm done jude. done," you say loud and clear.

"leave. i never needed you anyway." you turn around facing him, a flash of regret filling in his eyes as you look at him in pure disbelief. "you did, or you wouldn't be standing here if it wasn't for me."

you share your head at the memory, heading to the empty bar to return the empty glasses, feeling the need to clean up the mess and grab a small snack and final glass of champagne walking out to the outdoor balcony for a breath of air. "y/n?" you look up, not feeling sleepy or drunk anymore, standing up straight as jude approaches you.

was it possible to feel your heart shatter into millions of pieces over and over again? to feel the pit of your stomach turn at the sight of your ex-boyfriend? to feel utter pain when it was supposed to be a happy day? "jude..." you croak, looking away and biting the inside of your cheek.

he rests his forearm on the bar railing looking at you, trying to read you as you looked forward. silence fell upon you, but there was no denying that your hearts began to sprint faster at the closeness of the two of you. "did you need something?" you softly ask, taking a sip of the drink. "i wanted to talk," jude states firmly.

"are you sure? i don't think your girlfriend would like that," you attempt to joke but it earns you a frown from jude who just shakes his head. "i'm not sure she would, i'll just leave this here and go-" you try to walk away but he stops you, softly gripping your wrist refusing to let you go.

"she's not my girlfriend, she also left a while ago..." jude says, seeing you finally lock eyes with his. a deep laugh rumbles from his throat a painful smile stretching along his adorned face, "my first reaction would've been that too, if you had shown up here with someone else."

"i don't get it, why are you here then?" you feel the need to ask, get some sort of answer to relieve the pang in your chest. "why bother being here when you still brought her."

"because i was jealous, there i said it. i was so convinced you'd show up with someone who wasn't me. that i'd have to face reality and finally accept we're not longer together. that i can't call you mine anymore..." jude confesses, making your eyes glisten with new tears again.

"do you not know how it feels? to still be stuck in the past and longing for hope that one day you'll come back to me? having to face everyday with you on my mind anywhere i go? to have vivid dreams of you?" jude frowns, his once rough voice turning delicate as he brought a hand wiped your tears. "i can't stand it anymore."

"i thought this whole time before coming here, you were with someone else. everyone told me you had moved on and looked in a better place and all i could feel was bitterness. it wasn't fair, but i was so wrong y/n. so wrong to the point where i brought someone who could never love me like you did..." jude wiped his own tears away at the state of you.

you felt like you couldn't move, stuck in the same place as you heard his voice. the voice that one day soothed you to sleep, to calm you down, to look forward to at the end of the day. was it possible to feel this emotionless? to have no more tears left to cry? a sob emerged you, covering your face and attempting to control your breaths.

"who said i stopped? i may have an idea of what you feel like, let's be real. i don't know quite frankly who told you i moved on, but that's all lies. i can't do that knowing i still feel the same i did when i first met you," you sniffle taking a gulp and feeling the knot in your throat. "i thought i was fine and could handle seeing you, but my oh my was i incorrect... to see her with you, for her to come up to me and speak the way she did? for a second i thought 'where is my jude'?"

"i'm right here..."jude grabbed your hand and placed it on his heart, bringing it up to his jaw and resting his face on your palm. "don't you see it though? we're back where we ended off. do you possibly think we're good for each other when it seems like we're only hurting?" you question him.

"i've lived everyday thinking i wasn't enough or that i couldn't give you what you wanted jude," you shook your head in disappointment, "i want to fix things i do, but i'm scared that if we do this again, we're going to end up back here confessing our wrongs and tears. the way i felt the day we broke up doesn't compare to now..." you say, jude going quiet and looking down in defeat.

"i miss you so much jude," you choked on your own words, a fresh wave of tears overpowered the dry ones, holding onto jude upper arms as he leaned down and engulfed you into a deep hug. jude repeatedly kissed your head, choking on his own sobs as he repeated how much he missed you.

"i hope you know i'm still so madly in love with you y/n. i've never felt this way for anyone and it seems like its meant for you and you only,"j jude says making you giggle. "i'm serious pretty girl. i'm serious about you and us. i always was and i made the mistake of letting you go once, but i'm not here to do that again. i'm here to grant all of the promises we made," jude holds your face, seeing your red eyes and slightly smudged makeup, still more beautiful than ever.

"all of them?"

"every single one of them."

"i feel like we should talk more about it," you insist, seeing jude nod and agreeing with you. he tightens his grips on you waist leaning further down closer to you. "yes we do and we will, but right now i want to kiss you..." he asks and you grant. he sucks in a breath lips devouring yours after months, holding and kissing you how you liked and deserved.

you held onto his suit, tiptoeing up and deepening the kiss further, being able to taste his minty whisky scent. "come with me. we won't talk about everything tonight but i really just want to be here with you," jude says, sitting down on a small couch laid outside. you immediately follow and cuddle into him like you used to. you place a final peck onto his lips. "wait my drink-" jude holds your waist giving you a look with a playful smile.

"i think that's enough for tonight."

[dc-x-reader-stuff]

HusbandJason Todd x Reader head cannons please !!!

Husband! Jason Todd Hc’s

Jason Todd x Gn!Reader

My first time writing Jason stuff, AaAa - I hope it’s accurate to a good point. Like I said before I’m partial to Wayne Family Adventures Jason and a mix between him and the other versions of Jason’s I’ve seen on this app so I hope it’s acceptable- TvT

I’ve seen a lot of people be a stickler about the accuracy of Jason and have gotten genuinely angry if he was too nice or too angry or whatever so it’s all ahdjfnfjfn-

Anyways I hope you enjoy though- :DD

——————————————————————

The wedding the both of you have was small. Well, small-ish - there was a lot of people he wanted to invite, surprisingly, ranging from some close friends, to allies in the vigilante world, to his family. There were a lot of vigilante’s in their civilian forms at your guy’s wedding. Your side of the family was really surprised The Bruce Wayne and The Clark Kent was there without any paparazzi whatsoever.

(You and Jason were very careful about that. So was Bruce, especially for all the hell Jason went through when he was younger. They may be on better terms now, but he still felt he had a lot to make up for. Jason is completely fine with that - to a point, of course.)

The honeymoon? Nice and calm vacation to a small town near Smallville. Jason and you wanted a getaway for just eachother, without any stresses of vigilante stuff, or villains to inevitably interrupt that.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, his siblings were also keeping a very strict routine of ‘DO NOT CONTACT JASON OR Y/N UNLESS IF IT IS A DIRE, DIRE EMERGENCY’

Trust me, if it was two dires you both would’ve had to come home.

Luckily that didn’t happen.

Now, married life back in the city was a whole other thing to get used to.

You two have already lived together for the past couple years beforehand. You two have already dealt with your fair share of strains in the relationship, and still do to some degree. But luckily over the years before marriage you guys found a way to deal with that in a healthy way.

You prioritize healthy coping skills. So does Jason.

Even your respective therapists do. (Harley Quinn helped you both find ones qualified for your respective traumas. Very hard task, but Harley has a bit of a soft spot for Red Hood both in and out of the mask. She’s pretty chill with you too.)

Jason has his bouts of anger. Never, ever takes it out on you though, ever. Hell no. You guys have a punching bag for that. Sometimes you both use it together if you guys are venting about your day! Very cathartic and nice to bond with.

He teaches you how to fight. Just in case. You hate using weapons but he helps you get more comfortable, and you guys go over plans in case of break-ins, kidnappings, ect.

Especially if someone decides to burgle your cat.

You guys have a black cat you guys found in an alleyway a year into dating. He is your guy’s son that you decided to name Robin. Jason didn’t like the name at first, especially since you not-so-subtly alluded it to be reminiscent of his Robin days, but over time it stuck.

Robin is a nice and very sweet kitty. No one messes with Robin and you have thrown hands after someone broke into your apartment once to steal him. That was also during the time you moved in with Jason, he freaked out when you called him after the break in. Thoroughly impressed you managed to beat up the intruder but he cares about your’s and your cat’s safety - you moved in not long afterwards.

Reading and drawing dates - you guys, even into your marriage, go on small dates like these that don’t require too much thought or money. Sometimes you go to the park, or if it’s raining to your guy’s favorite café, with your favorite books (and sketchbook no. 173637294 for you specifically), and just enjoy your times together.

You guys do it at home too, but it’s fun to dress up and get out of the apartment for those kinds of dates.

Your home, despite all the weapons he has hidden around or on ‘decorative’ display, is quite cozy too!! It’s your safe space and you want it to exude that energy all throughout. Jason likes figuring out where decorations and furniture should go with you, it’s his favorite thing that gives him a sense of normalcy with you.

Also the banter between you two is fun. Smartass after smartass remark leaves you in stitches with laughter. Especially if it’s late at night and you both are loopy from lack of sleep. (Jason has more practice with that but it still effects him to some degree.)

At this point being married, you’re used to his nightly activities too. Sometimes you stay up and make him his favorite food to the best of your ability (you aren’t too good at cooking, but you’re learning for the both of you, same as him). Other times you just order takeout and eat with him.

Sometimes you help with his injuries, other times you don’t. If they’re small and benign he’s able to do them himself, bigger ones have you worried and helping him.

You always make sure he has an icepack ready for bruises. He’s taught you how to stitch wounds up to, given the fact that you don’t have as much medical experience as him.

Also after his nightly escapades as Red Hood, you guys sit and have tea too!! Calms him down enough to sleep, even if some nights are harder than others.

He’s gotten better at coping with his PTSD, but as per the usual he does have his nightmares at times. You being there right next to him helps. And you help ground him back into reality. Be it cuddles, if he’s comfortable with them, or be it just sitting there next to him and talking to him about whatever’s on your mind until he’s laying back down to listen to you.

You guys switch between who’s big and little spoon.

Robin is always near you guys in some way during bedtime. One time you woke up to cat fur in between your’s and Jason’s heads before. Robin doesn’t understand personal space at all but you guy’s love it all the same.

Speaking of which, he’s a natural born shoulder kitty! He will jump on your shoulders when the offer is available. Sometimes he scares the crap out of the both of you though whenever he’s being frisky, though. But normally Robin’s smart enough to do it when you two are aware that he’s there. He learns.

On your harder days, Jason makes you breakfast and makes you tea just like you do for him. He always asks you what you need, what you’re comfortable with. Some days it’s cuddling, other times when you don’t want to be touched you just tell him you want him near only. He knows that’s when he can just sit beside you on either the couch, table, barstools or bed and just read while you listen and watch your guy’s favorite shows.

You guys also have nights where you guys have watch parties too.

Sometimes his siblings join in too, bringing food from Alfred as well. It’s fun, and annoying for Jason at times, but still great nonetheless.

You guys visit the manor when needed, or during holidays too. Hanukkah, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, certain Galas, birthday parties, ect.

Sometimes you guys both just visit to mess with his siblings and Bruce. Cause some chaos a bit, that sort of thing. It’s fun.

Also you guys have gossip dates.

Be it about vigilante drama, co-worker drama, customer drama, family drama, villain drama, you guys will gossip and when those dates are at home Robin the cat will put his two cents in as well. He’s as vocal as he is sweet. Which is very.

And sometimes you record when Jason and Robin have conversations. Neither of you guys can understand the cat’s meows but it’s so fun interpreting it and seeing your husband have a full on conversation with the cat. You send it to the group chat you’re in with all the siblings and he never hears the end of it for the next few patrols. Sometimes Dick and Tim and Duke want to know what the tea is between Jason and the cat and he always says “That’s between me, my spouse and my cat, not you three.”

You inevitably tell them anyways, as well as Cass, Steph and Barbara.

Also Damian loves Robin that cat. He requests play dates between his pets and yours. You always cave for the kid, much to Jason’s dismay. But then again, he caves for him too. He always does.

Speaking of kids, I don’t think you guys will necessarily have one for a long, long while.

You guys agreed that you have to be absolutely sure and ready. Financially, mentally, emotionally, physically, mentally. Kids are a big responsibility and neither of you want your kids to ever grow up in an unsafe and unstable environment.

When you guys are ready though, which won’t be for a long while, I’m sure you guys will pull a Bruce and adopt or foster kids. Teenagers first, along with their siblings if they have any. You’d never separate them from their siblings - hell, the both of you, along with some help from his family and friends, would track siblings down if needed.

Like I said though, that won’t be for a long while.

You two are perfectly content in your save haven apartment with your lovely black cat Robin.

Besides, if you guys had kids early, Robin would be jealous and attention starved.

Neither of you would want that.

[carmenized-onions]

Tony, Terry, Tommy? | Walk-In Hotfix

synopsis; You get an unexpected call from an old friend in need of an emergency repair. Good thing: that's kind of your whole gig. Bad thing: You've been avoiding the Berzatto family for the past year.

tasting notes; hurt comfort? idk man, he's in a fuckin' freezer. this is gonna be a long slow-burn series. We don't use Y/N here and we've got a very preestablished storyline going on babes. Eat up.

portion; 3.1k+

possible allergies; SEASON 2 FINALE SPOILERS, I've started writing this before Season 3 comes out in June so we're going WAY off canon (unless I'm an oracle), Mikey is gonna be central baby, any tw you require for the bear-- you require for this.

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns!)

I have not written fanfiction in 5-6 years and once again some goddamn pretty boy just YOINKS me back in. I'm making up my own season three here so I'm kinda flying by the seat of my pants with this series, hopefully it turns out. If it doesn't... C'est la vie, I had fun.

The inciting incident, the thing that pulls you in, and permanently alters the trajectory of your life—                    Is honestly quite boring, because it’s just a phone call from an old friend.

You stare at your screen for what feels like eons but it’s really just a few rings. It’s enough time to frantically search through blankets on your couch for your remote to pause your show— Which might as well be like 10 years of time. You’re heavily debating not answering; what if it’s something heavy? What if a mutual childhood friend died? What if it’s a love or murder confession? What if it’s about the money you owe her? The money she owes you?

Do you really want to take that kind of call? On what’s been a peaceful Friday night? That’s a rarity in your part of Chicago, c’mon. If it’s important, she’ll leave a voicemail... Who are you kidding, she doesn’t leave voicemails— Frankly, it’s bizarre and concerning that she’s calling in the first place instead of spam texting. …Alright, she’s let it get to the fourth ring, she’s probably dead or dying. You need to pick up.

“…Syd?”

She sounds infinitely stressed, but relieved to hear your voice.“Hey, hey, uh—”

There’s a cacophony of yelling, banging, and what you imagine are kitchen noises in the background. Guess she kept to her guns after Sheridan. That’s nice. Or maybe it’s not. Hard to tell.

“Are you good?” She can’t see the concern on your face or your free arm crossing over your waist— But she can imagine it in the worried lilt of your voice.

“Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah— I-I’m good— Well actually, no, I’m not good, that’s why I’m calling. Actually. Sorry. I know it’s been a minute, it’s fucked up to call only when I need something—”

“Syd.”

“Is your dad still a handy-man?”

Ah. Goodbye peaceful Friday night. Hello emergency hotfix services.

You click your teeth, “Oh, no, he retired. Got a case of… Getting fucking old disease.” But a part of you is relieved it’s a thing that’s broken, and not her. This is at least manageable— Whatever it is.

“Fuck. Okay. Fuck. Ha, yeah, my dad’s got that too— Well, okay, then I’ll talk—”

You’re quick to jump in. “I took over the business though. So, if you’re—" “We need help so bad right now.”

You can’t help but laugh at the speed of it, but immediately feel guilty hearing the desperation in it. “Yeah? Who’s we?”

You stick the cellphone in the crux of your neck, already walking across your apartment to throw on your jumpsuit— Dark navy blue, elbow length sleeves, dad’s old logo embroidered on your right breast pocket.

CHICAGO’S KINDEST ⚒ FIXERS & CO. It’s managed to grow on you.

There’s an egregious number of patches ironed or sewn onto the back and shoulders of it. All from businesses you and your father had either worked with or done odd jobs for. A NASCAR jumpsuit, but for nostalgia and small businesses. Something something ‘it all starts with your neighbourhood’. Your dad would say.

Syd continues, she hasn’t changed much. You hear her sharp dicing in the background, the rhythm seems to calm down into an actual flow instead of erratic speed. You figure either the dinner rush is starting to slow down or she’s relieved you’re coming. Who are you being humble for, no shot it’s the former.

“So, you know how I’m like— Like a chef and shit?”

 You hum the affirmative, putting her on speakerphone so you can pull out your tool kit with both hands.

“So like, I actually co-own this restaurant opening tonight.”

“Oh nice!”

“Yeah— Yeah, yeah, it’s really nice, but actually, it’s not, because it’s bad.”

“In the way I can fix?”

“In the way you can fix, yeah. Hopefully.”

“What’s the damage?”

“So, my co-owner uh, Carmen, he got locked in the walk-in. Like trapped.”

You take a beat, a confused one. Half-stepping, almost tripping. You stare at your tools, picking out what you’ll actually need for this— How the fuck— “How is he trapped in the walk-in?”

“So, he meant to call to get it fixed—” “And he didn’t?” “And he didn’t.”

“What was broke about it in the first place?”

“The doorknob on the inside, broke off. And right now, or, more like, 5 minutes ago, the handle on the outside broke off too.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck.”

“Do you have the outside handle, still?”

“Yeah. Yeah, laying around somewhere— It snapped off though, like—”

“Clean?”

“Uh…. Y’know, I would check, but I’m actually kinda—"

“Can we run table 36, please, Chefs?!” Now that’s an uncomfortably familiar voice.

“Yes, Chef! …I’m kinda busy.”

“Right. Restaurant. Oh, what fucking restaurant? You said Carmen, that’s that fuckin’ Michelin guy, right?” Berzatto. It has to be. The smallness of this world is a personal prank on you.

“…How do you know that?” Son of a bitch.

“…I try to remember what you like.” It’s a good save, but that was too intimate for 3 years of no contact besides Happy Birthday texts, fuck fuck, recover— “Ahem, uh, Restaurant?”

“The Bear. Formerly The Beef. You do still live in Chicago, right?”

Berzatto. Confirmed. Bleh.

“Fortunate for you, I do. I know The Beef, I’m not far, I’ll be there in ten. Tell him to not have a panic attack, if you get a minute.”

“I will not get a minute. But I love the dream.”

And you’re off. Jumpsuit half zipped over what was supposed to be a sleep shirt but is now posthumously a work shirt. Nobody has to know you’re wearing pajama shorts under this. Carhartt jacket thrown over your shoulders— Your dad’s, so, a bit oversized. Toolbox in hand, utility belt on— Though you’re mildly sure if your hypothesis is right, you will only need your threateningly long sledgehammer.

Thank God for your car. CTA would not like you right now.

You pull up front. Oh boy. The sign change is making you feel a type of way that you were not expecting. Pride? Envy? All seven of the deadly sins? Maybe. No time to stew on it because there’s an older woman smoking and having an emotional spat with who you assume is her shivering son out front. So. Definitely going through the back alley instead of getting in the middle of that shit.

Alas, it’s not any better, because there’s Syd, vomiting next to a dumpster.

“Better to ignore or acknowledge you in this moment?” Is the response you decide is best, despite the question, you’re already by her side. You put your tools down (out of the splash zone) and rub her back with one hand, holding back straying braids with the other.

“I couldn’t—” More vomit. “Fuckin’ tell ya.” Syd takes a few deep breathes before standing. She considers going in for a hug, but remembers, the vomit. “Good to see you. I want to catch up, f’real, but—” “The bear in the walk-in?” “The bear in the walk-in.”

You nod, fishing through your pocket. You hand her a mini container of Tums. She waves it off, of course, and you double down, of course, “Who you acting tough for?”

“Fuckin… No one.” She grimaces, taking the box. She makes a show of taking one, like a fussy kid.

You refuse to take it back. “Keep it.”

“Never stopped being the mom friend, eh?”

You laugh, picking up your tools again. “Listen, there’s no telling what the night and your stomach holds. Lead the way?”

The Bear is pretty, or at least the kitchen of it is, so far. It’s clean. Cleaner than it used to be. The death trap walk-in is really the only eyesore for you. You stare at the broken-off handle in your hand, twisting it back and forth to look at all the angles. It’s honestly a pretty clean break.

Sydney’s left to talk to her dad, as she should, and the rest of the kitchen is either too busy to pay you mind or is just silently relieved to see you.

Tina— Who has thankfully opted to not say ‘Hey, good to see you, it’s been a year, what the fuck’—Taps the walk-in door and says to this elusive Michelin Carmen that she’ll be right back, that help’s here. He does not seem to register this at all. She gently slaps your cheek before rushing back to her station, regardless.

“Maybe I’m just not built for this, maybe, maybe that’s okay— Maybe that just is.”

You’ve never said his name to him, it feels heavy on your tongue. “Carmen.”

“Right? What the fuck was I thinking?”

Alright, he’s too far gone. You flag down one of the cooks that are just shadowing for the night. “Hey, can you hold this in place for me?”

You stick the handle into what’s left of the hinge still attached to the door, which is, not much— But hopefully, again, if your hypothesis is correct, it’ll give enough leverage. The cook holds it in place, a little terrified as your sledgehammer comes into view.

“Not gonna hit you, promise.”

“—I’m a fuckin’ psycho. That’s why. That’s why I’m good at what I do.”

You tap (bang) the hammer on the door, enough to stop his train of thought. For a second, at least. “Sweetheart, I need you to stand up for me, Carmen Chef Sir.”

“…Tony?”

“...Who the fuck is Tony?”

The meek cook beside you speaks up, “He means Tommy.”

And Tina is quick to yell from across the kitchen— hearing how? We don’t know. “It’s Terry!”

“I am none of these people.” You sigh, readying the hammer. “Carmen, can you stand up, and just tuck your fingers in the wedge of the door? If there is one?”

“Heard. Yeah.” There’s shuffling from in there, getting into position. Though the steps and the words seem dazed, as he’s forced out of a mental fog. “Here.”

“This isn’t a fix by the way. Your whole door is fucked after this. Not that it isn’t already, but, y’know.” You back up, teeing yourself up before running forward.

“Well, wait—”

You slam the mallet into the tip of the handle perfectly, forcing it way too tight into the gap of the hinge. You push the cook aside with your hip, now using the long handle of the mallet to stick between the knob and the door, using it as further leverage to pull it open. It is incredibly straining.

“Carmy!” Is it okay to say that nickname before you’ve even seen his face? Eh. You’re moving the boulder, he’ll forgive you. “You feel air?!”

“Holy shit— Yeah, yeah— Push?!” “Of course fucking push!”

And it becomes apparent in this exchange of force that this Head Chef must be significantly stronger than you, because it’s opening a lot faster now. Though, fast is a strong word for the snail pace this is happening at. But it’s more than the nothing that was happening a minute ago.

“Aye… Cousin?” Richie, in a… suit? Runs up to you, coming from front of house. He immediately grabs a free spot on the sledgehammer’s handle to help pull. He was shocked to see you doing, well, this, right now, but then upon registering, he’s just shocked to see you. Period.

You can only groan in response, sticking a leg up and putting your foot on the wall as if it’s gonna add meaningful leverage— Oh wait, it kinda is. “Y'clean up good, Rich— Opening going—Fuck— well?”

“Oh yeah, fucking peachy.” He can only manage to wheeze in reply. Investing his strength in yanking rather than reintroductions; thankfully it pays off.

The hinge shoots open, you would have absolutely fallen on your ass if Richie was not ready to stabilize you. The walk-in door cracks open. Just a bit. It’s not dramatic, it’s just a breath.

It’s so anti-climactic that Richie doesn’t mind walking off to cheer before Carmen even comes out. Clapping your back as he does. “That’s what I like to fuckin’ see, Cousin! Ingenuity!”

Though, to be fair, he’s moving to intercept a very sweet looking, worried girl. You look up at her, wheezing as you keel over slightly to catch your breath, hands on your knees. She’s saying something along the lines of ‘What’s going on?’ ‘Is he okay?’ Girlfriend? Probably. Richie seems to be coaxing her accordingly. You turn your head back to the door. Carmen hasn’t come out yet. That’s a red flag. With another wheeze, you stand up right, opening the door further, peeking in.

He's standing there, catatonic. Not looking at you, but straight forward, beyond you. He must’ve been by the door to push it open but now he’s stumbled against the back shelf. Every time his girl’s voice manages to ring into here, his eyes crinkle— Wince. His breath keeps hitching. He looks afraid. It is better to be caged right now than it is to be out there, doing whatever he could be doing, right now. Talking to anyone might be a death sentence, right now.

“I don’t need to provide amusement or enjoyment. I don’t need to receive any amusement or enjoyment. I’m completely fine with that.” He mumbles repeatedly. You can barely hear it over the buzzing of the freezer.

Whispering it just for himself, like some sort of fucked up mantra. Like it’s a state of inner peace to feel this bad. You doubt he even sees you right now.

You know you don’t know Carmy personally. Mostly just through hearsay.

He’s never met or heard of you, that’s for sure.

But you know Berzattos. Or. Knew the one.

And you know a downward spiral. Intimately.

And you know that right now, he’s fucking cold. He is shivering and making no move to leave that state. You think he thinks that’s the state he deserves to stay in.

Nothing to lose but a good first impression, right? You drop a screwdriver in the doorway as a doorstop— Because how fucking dumb would it be if you both got stuck? And. Extremely slowly, you approach him not unlike approaching an actual captive bear. In your eyes, you might as well be.

Standing right in front of him doesn’t stop his mantra. You slip your jacket off, half hugging him to drape it over his shoulders. “You’re just cold.”

“I’m a—” “You’re just. Cold.” You cut him off before he has the chance to self-deprecate again, smoothing out the sleeves on him. His eyes readjust to actually look at you rather than somewhere beyond.

You sniff. You’re already cold and it’s been 30 seconds. This poor thing. You rub your hands together, breathing hot air into them before touching them to his frigid fucking face. “Fuck you’re really cold. Like danger cold.”

Never being one for boundaries or hesitation, you hug yourself to him. It’s the fastest way to warm him up. You slip your hands under the jacket— Your jacket— And just engulf the Italian Popsicle Man before you.

Shockingly, he doesn’t push you off or suddenly reawaken to his senses and tell you to fuck off. He doesn’t flinch, if anything he leans in. His body doesn’t really have time for surprise, right now, it just takes what it needs. And what it needs is warmth and oxytocin. His breathing slowly but surely self regulates, and once you start to remember decorum you lower your arms— But. He opts to place his chin on your shoulder, like the world’s most gentle hook, and that alone is enough to keep you there.

It's a long, silent, liminal spacey moment before he speaks again. Both of you speak just above the decibel of the freezer's buzzing.

“You’re not Tony.”

“Terry.”

“You’re Terry?”

“No, Tina said Tony’s Terry. I don’t know who the fuck Terry is.”

“Terry’s the fridge guy.”

“You’re still going to need to call him; I did just make it worse.”

“That’s fine.” He swallows. “Who called you?”

“Syd.”

“Should’ve called you earlier.”

“Should’ve called the fridge guy earlier.”

“Yeah.” He sighs, but he makes no move to move, so you don’t either.

“You know Mikey too?”

Ah. The patch. The Beef. It's worn, but it sits proudly on the left shoulder of your jumpsuit. Your heart tightens and so does your posture.

“Yeah.” You sigh. It’s shakier than you’d like it to be. “Dad knew him, so then I knew him, so then I occasionally fixed shit for him. Shit that ‘Fak couldn’t?’ I think his name was?”

“Hm.” He hums. “He ever got locked in the walk-in?”

“Yeah, he really fucked it up, like waayy worse than whatever happened with you tonight. Like whatever happened. At least 10 times worse.” Your voice is coated with sarcasm, but it’s not entirely untrue.

You’re relieved, when Carmen laughs at this, a touch maniacally, but it’s something. Right now, any emotion from him besides regret and anxiety feels like a trophy. He straightens up, pushing his hair back, so you remove your arms.

“You’re fuckin’ funny, Tony.”

“Still not Tony.”

“Oh my god!” A blonde, very pregnant woman cracks the door open, relieved. “Are you okay, Bear?” You step aside so she can hug Carmen, holding his cheeks to look over him. Oh, this has to be—

“I’m good, I’m great, Sug.” He says this incredibly unconvincingly, hanging one hand on her wrist.

But what matters more in your brain right now is: That’s Sugar. Natalie.

And now you can put a face to both siblings you’ve been bitched about to.

Chain-smoker, means well, cringeworthy husband, too good for her family, incredibly judgemental, cares too much and worries more, loves to fight, her mother’s daughter, pushy, sticks her foot in her mouth, can’t take no for an answer, would lay down her life. Natalie Berzatto. Little sister.

Michelin Star retaining, big shot, sensitive, definitely a virgin, ball buster, sweats the small stuff, sweetheart, asshole, incredibly smart, flighty, coward, deeply loyal, whiny, screamer, show-off, fantastic drawer, shell, mister new york, annoyingly humble, undeniably the most talented. Carmen Berzatto. Baby brother.

Mikey’s words. Of course.

Nat turns her gaze over to you, “Thank you.” You can only bring yourself to nod in reply, a bit awkward— Lost in your rolodex of memories of the people you’ve never actually met until right now. It’s weird to feel parasocial about a normal person.   

“Our toilet, exploded.” She says.

Now that pulls out you of it, and gets a laugh out of you. You put your hand over your mouth. “Yeah?”

Sugar shakes her head, eyes widening like she’s just stepped in it, “I didn’t mean like— Like, you just did a job, right, that’s like tacking on another last-minute service—”

“That’s fine.” You put a hand up stopping her from continuing, still chuckling. “I’ll take a look at it tonight and try to fix it tomorrow?”

She nods, smiling bright, “Thank you, Tommy.”

Who needs to use Y/N when you have the fridge guy?

I so desperately hope you liked this first chapter. I've been stewing on this for like a week so I beg of you to reply/reblog/send me an ask (anon or not!!) telling me what you thought!! Unless it's mean!! In which case, do NOT!!!

And just a forewarning, as we step into uncharted territory where the walk-in meltdown was cut short, I need you to hold my hand through it bb. We're making this man's life better or we're gonna die trying.

Next Part

[bitchesgetriches]

{ MASTERPOST } Everything You Need to Know about Saving Money and Being Frugal

We’re all in this together. Don’t give up.

On food and groceries:

How to Shop for Groceries like a Boss

Why Name Brand Products Are Beneath You: The Honor and Glory of Buying Generic

If You Don’t Eat Leftovers I Don’t Even Want to Know You

You Are above Bottled Water, You Elegant Land Mermaid

You Should Learn To Cook. Here’s Why.

On entertainment and socializing:

The Frugal Introvert’s Guide to the Weekend

7 Totally Reasonable Ways To Save Money on Cheap Entertainment 

Take Pride in Being a Cheap Date

The Library Is a Magical Place and You Should Fucking Go There

Your Library Lets You Stream Audiobooks and eBooks FOR FREEEEEEE!

What’s the Effect of Social Media on Your Finances?

You Won’t Regret Your Frugal 20s

On health:

How to Pay Hospital Bills When You’re Flat Broke

Run With Me if You Want to Save: How Exercising Will Save You Money

Our Master List of 100% Free Mental Health Self-Care Tactics

Why You Probably Don’t Need That Gym Membership

How to Get DIRT CHEAP Pet Medication, Without a Prescription 

On other big expenses:

Businesses Will Happily Give You HUGE Discounts if You Ask This Magic Question

Understand the Hidden Costs of Travel and Avoid Them Like the Plague

Other People’s Weddings Don’t Have to Make You Broke

You Deserve Cheap, Fake Jewelry… Just Like Coco Chanel

3 Times I Was Damn Grateful for My Emergency Fund (and Side Income) 

When (and How) to Try Refinancing or Consolidating Student Loans

The Real Story of How I Paid Off My Mortgage Early in 4 Years 

Season 2, Episode 2: “I’m Not Ready to Buy a House—But How Do I *Get Ready* to Get Ready?”

The Most Impactful Financial Decision I’ve Ever Made… and Why I Don’t Recommend It

On buying secondhand and trading:

Almost Everything Can Be Purchased Secondhand

I Am a Craigslist Samurai and so Can You: How to Sell Used Stuff Online

The Delicate Art of the Friend Trade

On giving gifts and charitable donations:

How Can I Tame My Family’s Crazy Gift-Giving Expectations?

In Defense of Shameless Regifting

Make Sure Your Donations Have the Biggest Impact by Ruthlessly Judging Charities

The Anti-Consumerist Gift Guide: I Have No Gift to Bring, Pa Rum Pa Pum Pum

How to Spot a Charitable Scam

Ask the Bitches: How Do I Say “No” When a Loved One Asks for Money… Again? 

On resisting temptation:

How to Insulate Yourself From Advertisements

Making Decisions Under Stress: The Siren Song of Chocolate Cake

The Magically Frugal Power of Patience

6 Proven Tactics for Avoiding Emotional Impulse Spending

On minimalism and buying less:

Don’t Spend Money on Shit You Don’t Like, Fool

Everything I Know About Minimalism I Learned from the Zombie Apocalypse

Slay Your Financial Vampires

The Subscription Box Craze and the Mindlessness of Wasteful Spending

On saving money:

How To Start Small by Saving Small

Not Every Savings Account Is Created Equal

The Unexpected Benefits (and Downsides) of Money Challenges

Budgets Don’t Work for Everyone—Try the Spending Tracker System Instead

From HYSAs to CDs, Here’s How to Level Up Your Financial Savings

Season 2, Episode 10: “Which Is Smarter: Getting a Loan? or Saving up to Pay Cash?”

The Magic of Unclaimed Property: How I Made $1,900 in 10 Minutes by Being a Disorganized Mess

We will periodically update this list with newer articles. And by “periodically” I mean “when we remember that it’s something we forgot to do for four months.”

Bitches Get Riches: setting realistic expectations since 2017!

Start saving right heckin’ now!

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[pearlywritings]

"Bring your kid to work" day

synopsis: but sometimes it's very much unplanned.

pairing and characters: Zhongli x fem!reader, Xiao. Your family name is Rex-Lapis. Childe plays part in it too.

tw: modern AU, University AU, established relationship, fluff

word count: 2.8k+ words

a/n: Also a part of my University modern AU with history professor Zhongli

The day started perfectly. Your older daughter was already at school with your permission to stay at her friend's house for a sleepover later, you had your day off, lounging in the living room with your son cuddling to you with his most favorite dragon shaped toy pressed between your bodies, listening to your husband walking around the bedroom, getting ready for the lectures at the University, being blessed with afternoon classes.

The day was perfect indeed. Until it absolutely isn't.

Sometimes you really want to kill your boss. It must be today that you are called to work to help with an emergency, that no one knows how to deal with except for you. And the fact that your boss does not consider any possibility of you having trouble with doing what's required, makes you fume harder.

"Li, I don't know what to do!" You cry in frustration, buttoning your shirt. "We can't find a babysitter in ten minutes! You have to go to work, I have to now too, we can't just ask Ganyu to cancel her plans, she's been waiting for this sleepover for weeks, and I can't take Xiao with me - by the sound of it I won't have a single moment to look after him."

It's been no longer than five minutes since you received that call, but you are already as stressed as after a week of non-stop work. Why must've the stars aligned this way!?

Your husband - bless his soul - is fully dressed and is holding your little son perched on his arm, supporting his back with a hand, watching your frantic movements with sympathy.

"I don't think I'll have many spare moments either, my love. Only breaks between lessons. Let me think," the man hums, leaning Xiao’s body more onto his shoulder and reaching for his phone with a free hand. The boy wraps arms around his neck, watching you brush your hair with a pout. The plan was to spend the whole day together with mama, watching cartoons, playing, maybe going for a walk or, ideally, taking a nap, finishing it all with making dinner and welcoming papa home. Now, it seems to him, all these plans are thrown out of the window.

However, Xiao was always a very perceptive and patient kid - he sensed somehow when the situation couldn’t be helped and him throwing a fit - not like he would - would only cause more trouble. That is why he is quietly waiting for what comes next.

And finally Zhongli finds a solution.

“I’m calling Ajax. He mostly spends time at the teacher’s lounge. As far as I know he really loves kids and has several younger siblings, he should be able to handle our son. And during breaks I’ll be taking over” “Oh,” as good as it all sounds, there is an instant hesitation in your mind. “‘Li, you sure you can ask him that? It’s a big deal after all…” “I know, dear, I know. That’s why I am calling him now in advance to make sure it’s alright,” your husband dials the number of his department’s secretary and puts the phone to the ear. “I don’t even mind paying him if he agrees.”

In reality you had nothing to worry about. The gingerhead was more than willing to watch your five-year old son. Maybe willing isn’t the right word even - the young man is excited.

Zhongli is lucky to arrive before the current class ends - the less attention is drawn, the better. He collected everything he could think of to occupy Xiao during his time at the lounge in a bag, which he passes to Ajax the moment his son and him are introduced. However while the secretary is wearing a wide and kind smile, the boy is glaring up at him from under the brown bangs, boring his strikingly golden eyes in the tall figure.

“Dad, I don’t like him,” the little boy pouts, hugging his plushie even tighter and throwing daggers at the gingerhead from behind the dragon’s mane.

“Ouch, little guy,” with a dramatic gasp, the young man clutches the shirt on his chest and presses the back of his hand to the forehead. “How will I live? Hated by Mr Rex-Lapis’ son…”

“Now, now, Xiao,” Zhongli gently pats his head, bending down to look into his eyes and finding displeasure there. “It’s only for today, baby. Me and mom are really sorry for not spending time with you today. I promise that soon I’ll be home for two whole weeks.”

To that the boy’s eyes widen.

“Two weeks… That’s fourteen days?”

“That’s right, sweety.”

“That’s a lot!” He jumps, elated by the news, no trace of dissatisfaction written over his cute smiling face.

“Haha, it is, dear.”

“Wow, Mr Rex-Lapis, your son is really smart!” The secretary stopped playing hurt, instead clapping his hands together in praise and nodding his head in approval. “How old is he?”

“He is five. Yes, he learns really fast.”

“No wonder, he has you and your wife as parents.”

The remaining 20 minutes before his first lecture Zhongli spends in attempts to make his son comfortable not only around Ajax, but also at the new place as well. All that time Xiao doesn’t let go of his ever-present companion - a toy dragon, which he is hugging close to his chest. He politely greets every professor that comes to the lounge, which makes the secretary’s jaw drop since he is the only one who’s been initially rejected and, Zhongli can swear, he saw his boy smirking in the toy’s fluffy mane.

Other professors can’t help but mention how much the son resembles the father, even making small talk with the boy, whom they’ve only heard about before or seen in the framed picture of your family on Zhongli’s desk. By how polite (sorry, Ajax) and shyly sweet he is Xiao quickly becomes everyone’s favorite, pockets currently full with all kinds of treats.

When it’s time to go, the man kisses Xiao’s forehead goodbye, promising to be back in an hour and a half for a break, and grabs the materials. Once he leaves alongside his colleagues, Xiao sighs and, ignoring his temporary caretaker, moves to the bag his dad left, starting to dig out all the candies to put them into its side pocket.

“Whatcha doin’, little guy?” The young man is at his side in two long strides, curiously watching the boy’s actions. Xiao gives him a side eye, before deeming the question plausible and turning back to his task.

“I don’t want them right now. I’ll bring them home and share with mom and dad.”

“I am sure they’ll like that,” Ajax hums, busying himself with the contents of the main section. “Oh, would you look at that! It seems that your dad packed some coloring books, toys and… oh, puzzles! You like puzzles?”

The boy quietly nods. Tiptoeing, he tries to see the two boxes his temporary caretaker is holding, and the young man immediately crouches down to let him look.

“This one is new,” Xiao finally points to the box in his left hand. Ocean blue eyes skim over the picture of a phoenix, drawn in a simple yet elegant style. Yes, that definitely looks like something Mr Rex-Lapis would’ve bought for his child’s entertainment.

“Alright, let's get you behind your dad's desk,” golden eyes sparkle and a glimpse of wonder appears on the boy’s face. Dad showed him his own space at the lounge; it's tidy and organized, with all the necessities sorted inside the drawers and some notes and pictures pinned to the corkboard on the wall to the left. He wants to see them closer!

His caretaker drags the chair back, but climbing on it Xiao performs himself. As Ajax is humming something while tearing off the tape on the puzzle box, the boy turns to look at the photos Mr Rex-Lapis has on display. It’s so funny, really - not so long ago this little fella’s father was an image of reserve to students, no one knew who his wife was or the fact he had two kids. The secretary remembers how just half a year ago he used to be among those only ones who knew of the professor’s secret (which, in reality, wasn’t a secret at all). Why hasn't he ever spilled any info to the students who adore him?

Well, what fun would’ve been in it?

“Is that your big sister?” Xiao quickly glances up, taking notice of how the tall (but not as tall as dad) man hovers over where he is sitting and points at one of the pictures. The boy looks at it again.

“...yes. It’s Ganyu.”

“I have a sister too,” the fond expression on that freckle-covered face and a seemingly lightened color of those ocean-blue eyes disarms the five-year old a little. He blinks, waiting for what more he can tell. “Not one actually. Oh, and I have brothers too. One is your age, by the way!”

“Doesn’t it get too… loud?” Small hands reach for the carton box, lifting the lid.

“It does, in a good way though. But when our two huskies join in on the fun… Let’s just say it’s a good thing we have our own house.”

“You have dogs? That’s so cool! I want to have a pet too,” Xiao unceremoniously empties the contents onto the table, yet carefully places the lid with the picture against the monitor of the computer. “Mom promised that when I get older, they’ll buy me a bird.”

“Oh? You love those?”

“Mhm… Maybe we’ll buy something as pretty as…” he pauses, looking at the fiery bird. Ajax quickly realizes the struggle.

“A fo-nuhks,” Xiao prompts.

“Yeah… A fee-niks.”

As the minutes tick by, the boy’s initial hostility seems to evaporate. He still doesn’t talk unnecessarily much, but he does talk to Ajax, so that's progress. He is quite quick to finish the puzzles, and his temporary caretaker makes sure to praise the child. They talk a bit more about their respective families, Xiao even introduces him to his dragon companion. And the gingerhead picks the small fox-shaped keychain his elder sister knitted for him to play toy pals.

For another half an hour it manages to entertain the boy, but as the end of the class is nearing, he grows more and more distracted, glancing either at the door or the clock hanging high on the wall. It’s not hard to guess he is missing his father and is anticipating his return, but both Zhongli and Ajax can do nothing to just speed the time.

What professor can do though, is excusing his class ten minutes earlier, quite happy they got to get through all the material he prepared for this lecture. Bidding the students goodbye, he locks the door of the auditorium with his suitcase inside and puts the key in the pocket of his fancy vest to come back in twenty minutes.

When Zhongli enters the teacher’s lounge, he finds the secretary showing his son something on his own laptop. However, once Xiao’s eyes spot his dad’s figure in the doorframe, the little guy is down from his chair and running all the way to the man.

“Dad!” Mr Rex-Lapis barely has time to close the door and scoot down to catch his son, who nearly bumps into his legs, threatening the man’s balance. Finally in his arms, with his own tiny ones tightly wrapped around strong neck, the carbon copy of Zhongli happily smiles and Ajax has to rub his eyes to make sure he is not hallucinating. Wow, this boy can smile like that (sorry, my guy, you are just not his favorite, though now tolerable at least).

“Hello, Xiao,” Zhongli plants an affectionate kiss on his son’s cheek. “I see you’ve missed me,” the words are answered with eager nods. “Did you have fun with Ajax?” At least some of it.

The gingerhead lifts his eyebrow when the boy looks back at him, holds the gaze of ocean blue eyes for a moment, and then turns to his father once more.

“I suppose.”

The older man has to clear his throat with a polite cough so as not to break into a smile at the image of the assistant's slack jaw.

“That’s good, my dear.”

“Are we coming home now?” His son wonders, fingers playing with the longer locks of dark brown. Unfortunately, the answer is a dejected sigh.

“I am afraid we are not yet, sweety. But mommy texted me recently that she’ll be able to come get you after my second lecture. And then I’ll have one more.”

At the promise of you soon arriving to take him home, Xiao’s just building pout quickly disappeared. It’s okay, he can wait for a little bit longer. And that fox-like man isn’t bad, his company is quite nice. He even showed him some pictures of his family - almost all of them are ginger. Oh, and he promised to download some simple games onto his dad’s computer so he could play. And he still has his coloring books back there and he believes he saw you packing a small book - there is plenty to entertain him with.

Only for all these thoughts and motivation to be shuttered when someone knocked on the door and a second later some student’s head pushed through the gap. None of the three people currently present in the room could’ve anticipated what a black hole is about to be opened.

“Good afternoon, is Mr Rex-La- Oh, professor, you are here! We were wondering if we could take the key to leave our bags inside? As always? Oh, hey kiddo- Wait, a kid???”

“Dad, who is it?”

“DAD!?”

Before anyone could do anything, loud gasps break their way into the lounge. It appeared that almost the whole group was standing in the hall and heard everything crystally clear. Of course students are curious. Of course, they know about professor Rex-Lapis’ kid - the news and that cute picture from an online lecture were still the talk of the whole faculty just a couple of months ago. Of course, they want to see those sweet cheeks for crying out loud!

Ajax is the one who has to get everyone who does not belong in the room out and calm them all down as more than a dozen youngsters beg and plead with Zhongli to bring his baby boy to the lecture. And the said baby boy doesn’t help the situation either, looking at his father with those striking eyes, silently asking to stay with him. “I’m gonna sit very-very quiet,” he even promises.

Is it really a surprise that Xiao ends up sitting at his dad’s desk with his coloring books while the man is reading a lecture? (Students almost crumbled when their tall, handsome, enigmatic history professor walked into the auditorium with his son’s tiny hand clasped in his? Look, he even had to bend his body a little to do so!)

And, as much as students want to gush all over their favorite professor’s small-sized carbon copy, they keep their best behavior, because the situation gives the “once in a century” vibes and they’d be damned to destroy the magic of the moment.

Well, maybe a little, because the smallest interactions between Zhongli and his son as the man lets his students finish writing down information from the current slide are mind-blowing. Groupchat-blowing too.

Even cuter the whole occurrence becomes when the boy stops drawing and lifts his head, curious of what his dad is speaking about. He turns slightly in order to see the presentation, golden eyes skimming over the pictures and words, though he does not understand most of it. But it’s alright though - he can listen to his father instead.

Zhongli is pleasantly surprised when no one can answer one of his revision questions and Xiao lifts his hand, giving him the answer he wanted (he misspells the word a little, sure, but he knew the right response nonetheless). Aaaand that’s probably when the students finally lose it.

By the time the lesson is over and Zhongli meets with you in the teacher’s lounge to pass your very happy and very proud son to you so you two could be on your merry way home, the man feels a little drained. Nothing that can’t be fixed by your tender cheek kiss and soft rubbing on his back, but he still exhales heavily and swears that when he comes home, you are in for a new story.

And by what Ajax had time to tell while you’ve been waiting, you're sure it’s going to be a hilarious one.

taglist: @meimeimeirin Cause I remember how you once said you'd love to see more of this AU

[xoxoavenger]

Days of Future Past

pairing: Young!Charles Xavier x Fem!Reader

summary: What if Charles had a wife in the 70s? And what if she was pregnant when Logan came to visit?

word count: 5071

warnings: canon typical violence, pregnancy, addiction

part two

masterlist birthday celebration masterlist

"I got it!" Y/N yelled as someone knocked on the door. She wiped her hands on her apron, as she had been making dinner when the knock sounded, and went to go open the door. When she made her way to the lobby, however, Hank was already talking with the man outside. He forcefully made his way inside, and Y/N crossed her arms over her stomach.

"Hey! I said the school's closed. You need to leave." Hank yelled after the man, but he was still making his way inside.

"Not until I see the professor." The man said, and Y/N stepped forward.

"There's no professor here, sir. Maybe you should get along." She said, and Hank protectively went to her side.

"Y/N! I didn't know you'd be h - you're pregnant?" The man said, and Y/N raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know my name?" She asked, taking another step forward. The man sighed. He looked annoyed and worn out, but Y/N really didn't care.

"Look, someday, we're all gonna be good friends. You just don't know it yet." The man said to the both of them, before punching Hank in the face. Y/N dropped to his side as he fell to the ground, letting the man walk up the stairs. What did he mean by that? And if they were supposed to be 'friends,' why did he punch Hank?

"That son of a bitch," Hank grumbled out, rubbing his cheek.

"Professor?" The man called, and Y/N immediately rushed to follow the man up the stairs and to the left, Hank still on the floor. Charles was having a hard time, and he needed more help than Hank would.

"Sir, I don't know who you think you are, or who you think you're looking for, but-" Y/N cut herself off as a blue Hank went barreling past her. Her eyes widened, watching the two fight down the hallway. She stood with her back against the wall as Hank threw the man across the stairs, jumping after him. He then proceeded to throw the man all the way down the stairs, onto the table in the lobby. The door across the hallway from her opened, and Y/N was met with blue eyes.

"Charles," She greeted, surprised as Charles emerged from their room. They heard growling, and the two made their way to the main lobby, Y/N pulling off her apron and putting it on the bannister.

"Hank? What's going on here?" Charles yelled, and Y/N followed silently down the stairs.

"Professor?" The unnamed man said.

"Please don't call me that." Charles requested, and Y/N frowned. She looked at Hank, who was hanging upside down on the chandelier directly on top of the man. She put her head down, staying silent. When Charles first lost his legs, he didn't seem to care as much. It was only when his friends, his family, began to get drafted for the war that Charles fell, and hard. She had tried her best to get him to lay off the serum, especially because she was pregnant. She had found out a couple weeks after they had opened the school, right before people were getting drafted. She tries not to think about the fact that he may have been better off if she hadn't been in his life, if she wasn't carrying his child. She would never voice her thoughts, however, and it was much easier to pretend now that he no longer could read her mind.

Sometimes they even pretended she wasn't pregnant, that they weren't mutants.

"Why? Do you know this guy?" Hank asked. Y/N still didn't dare look up. She didn't want to make things worse, didn't want to set Charles or Hank off even more. Both were clearly stressed out, and she was stuck not being able to help either. The easiest thing for her to do was shut up and make food.

Speaking of food, she should probably go back there.

"Yeah, he looks slightly familiar. Get off the bloody chandelier, Hank." Charles said, his voice already slurring. If he hadn't been paralyzed and she hadn't been pregnant, he wouldn't have been drunk already. Hank flipped off the Chandelier, and the man began to slowly sit up.

"You can walk." Y/N heard the man say, and she snapped her head up. What did this guy know? Who was he to know that Charles hasn't always been able to walk? All thoughts of her going back to the food was abandoned in favor of backing up Charles.

"You're a perceptive one." She said, and Charles gave her a look as he walked down the stairs. She rolled her eyes, beginning to talk over the man that was already talking. She was breaking her number one rule, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

"I thought Erik-"

"Which makes it slightly perplexing that you managed to miss our sign on the way in." Y/N said, and Charles looked at her before finishing the talk.

"This is private property, my friend. I'm gonna have to ask him to ask you to leave." Charles sat down on the last step, and Y/N rushed down the steps to his side, grabbing ahold of his arm.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, because, uh, because I was sent here for you." The man said, and Charles looked at Y/N, but his expression was blank. He looked back to the man.

"Well, tell whoever it was that sent you that I'm-" Charles lead off, looking at Y/N once more. His gaze rested on the bump that was currently fanning out the dress she had on. "Busy, obviously." He finished, and Y/N looked back to the man.

"That's gonna be a little tricky, because the person who sent me was you." The man said, taking a deep breath.

"What?" Y/N and Charles said at the same time, although Charles seemed less interested than Y/N. She didn't quite understand all the things he understood, and right now she was lost.

"About fifty years from now." The man continued, and Y/N released Charles' arm to hold her head in her hands. How was that supposed to work?

"Fifty years from now? Like in the future, fifty years from now?" She asked, looking back up at the man. She knows she needs to stop talking, but suddenly life was flipped and she forgot to remember herself for a moment.

"Yeah." The man confirmed.

"I sent you from the future." Charles said. He definitely wasn't believing it.

"Yeah." The man confirmed again, and Y/N looked over to see Hank shaking his head.

"Piss off." Charles said, and Y/N stood, rising tall to intimidate the man. It wasn't working.

"You have some nerve showing up here, punching Hank and making fun of Charles. How did you even know my name?" Y/N asked, walking closer to the man, but he looked around her at Charles.

"If you had your powers, you'd know I was telling the truth." He said, and Y/N punched him before she could even think about it.

"Woah, woah, woah." Hank said, him and Charles going to her side to pull her back. Hank hung onto her while Charles stared at him.

"How do you know I don't have my," Charles led off, and the three shared a look. "Who are you?" Charles asked again.

"I told you." The man said, but Charles didn't believe him.

"Are you CIA?" Charles asked.

"No."

"You been watching me?" Charles asked, and Y/N felt her heart rate pick up as she knew Charles' was as well. She got anxiety for Charles ever since he was shot, and she hated the feeling.

"I know you, Charles. We've been friends for years. I know your powers came when you were nine. I know you thought you were going crazy when it started, all the voices in your head. And it wasn't until you were twelve that you realized all the voices were in everyone else's head. Do you want me to go on?" The man spoke, and Y/N stared at Charles. After a moment, he turned to her, silently asking if she had said anything. She shook her head, because first of all, why would she tell, and second of all, who would she tell?

"I only told Y/N that." Charles said quietly.

"One day, you'll share your story." The man said, and Y/N turned to look at Hank, who was just staring. She was so confused and tired and she just wanted to go back to making dinner while Hank worked and Charles drank.

"Alright, you've piqued my interest." Charles said, and Y/N moved closer to him. She put a hand on his shoulder, hoping to comfort him.

"Charles, we don't even know who this guy is. He could be a telepath. We don't know anything except he came in here and started a fight with Hank." Y/N said, but Charles shrugged her off.

"What do you want?" Charles asked, and Y/N frowned.

"We have to stop Raven. I need your help. We need your help." The man said, and Y/N stared at Charles, heart breaking at the pained look on his face. He looked down. She knew how close Raven and Charles were, even mistaking it for romantic love and not sibling love. This man bringing her up did not help his case.

"I think I'd like to wake up now." He said, walking away. Y/N tried to grab his hand, but he slid out without so much as a look. She turned to see Hank's blue appearance going back to normal.

"You'll have to forgive him. He's going through some tough times." Y/N said, head down as she followed Charles' path. He was pouring himself a drink when she walked into the room. She leaned against the desk, trying to alleviate the pain in her feet from standing. She had been standing while making dinner, and she had half a thought to go finish it.

"I don't need my powers to know you're in pain. Why don't you sit down?" He suggested. She sat in his chair, close to where he was still pouring his drink. She almost put her feet on the desk, but thought better of it.

"You shouldn't drink so much. What are you going to do when the baby comes?" She asked, and he turned to see her slouching in the chair, bump stretching upwards. She had her hands around it, rubbing it, and Charles thought he had never seen anyone so beautiful in his life.

It scared him to think that he was going to have to be in charge of another person soon.

"Drink more." He responded, and she frowned.

"Charles," She crossed her arms, and he turned and leaned against his desk to face her.

"You know I won't." He tried to comfort her, but she just shook her head.

"But you'll keep doing the useless treatments?" She asked, and he dropped his head.

"They aren't useless. You don't understand how hard this is for me." He said, and she rolled her eyes. She was tired of just letting this go because of him. She was hurting too.

"What, you think this is easy for me?" She asked.

be a good wife be a good wife be a good wife

The mantra repeated over and over in her head, and she took a deep breath. Charles was going through the hardest time he'd ever had in his life, and although she was too, she still needed to be there for him. It was her job.

"I'm sorry. I know this is hard." She said, and he shook his head, tears forming in his eyes.

"You shouldn't be the one apologizing." He said, but he left it there. Not too long after their conversation was over, the man walked into the room with Hank.

"Just let me explain myself."

~

"So they took Raven's powers and weaponized it?" Y/N asked, and Charles was already pouring himself another drink. They had only been talking for 10 minutes, and Y/N rubbed her eyes. The food she was preparing had probably gone bad now, but she knew she couldn't leave Charles alone, not while he was halfway to shitfaced before dark.

"Yep." Was all the man - Logan - said. He had explained the future, explained how the four of them were all friends and Charles and Y/N's baby had mutant abilities too, but it was a lot of information to take in.

"She is unique." Hank said.

"Yeah, she is, Hank." Charles said with a smile. Y/N looked back to Logan to continue talking while Charles walked across the room.

"Look, in the beginning, the Sentinels were just targeting mutants. Then they began to identify the genetics in non-mutants, who would eventually have mutant children and grandchildren." Logan turned to face Charles, who was now sitting on the couch. Charles looked at Y/N, and she heaved herself up, shuffling to sit next to him on the couch. He put an arm around her, then set his drink down, the other hand resting on her stomach. Y/N closed her eyes, trying to take in the moment. He was at the sweet spot, when he was drunk enough to forget that he was upset but not drunk enough to dwell in self pity.

"Many of the humans tried to help us. It was a slaughter, leaving only the worst of humanity in charge. I've been in a lot of wars. I've never seen anything like this. And it all starts with her." Logan finished, but Y/N still didn't open her eyes. She moved a hand to Charles' chest, her head resting above his heart. She never wanted this moment to end.

But then Charles removed his hand from her bump and leaned to pick up his drink, taking a swig before talking.

"Well, let's just say for the sake of," He paused, his knee starting to shake and his other hand going up to rub his eye. "The sake, that I-I choose to believe you. Raven won't listen to me." He said, leaning further into the couch and putting his arm farther down now so that he could feel her bump as well. She sighed, still not opening her eyes. "Her heart and soul belong to someone else now." Charles finished, and Y/N could tell that Hank was upset without looking at him.

She'd honestly rather be anywhere else than there at the moment.

"I know. That's why we're gonna need Magneto, too." Logan's sentence made Y/N's eyes shoot open as she looked at him with annoyance and fear, and she felt Charles tense as he chuckled.

"Erik? You do know where he is?" Hank asked, and Charles continued his breathless laugh.

"Yeah." Logan answered, and Y/N moved as Charles stood, putting his drink down and moving further away from her, laughing like a mad man.

"He's where he belongs." Charles said, making his way to the door.

"That's it? You're just gonna walk out?" Logan asked, and Y/N stood, moving to see Charles when he walked all the way out the door.

"Oh, top marks. Y/N, you were right, he is perceptive." Charles was walking backward, away from them, and Y/N knew that she wouldn't get a peaceful moment with him again until he was asleep. Then, they would start the same day over again, until she had the baby. Who knows what would happen after that.

"The professor I know would never turn his back on someone who lost their path. Especially someone he loved." Logan said as Charles was almost to the stairs. Charles then stepped back, turning to the three of them gathered to the door. Y/N started talking, but Charles talked right over her.

"You have no right to-"

"You know, I think I do remember you now. Yeah. We came to you a long time ago seeking your help. And I'm gonna say to you what you said to us then. Fuck off." Charles cut Y/N off. Before Y/N could blink, Logan grabbed Charles by his shirt and brought him close.

"Listen to me, you little shit. I've come a long way, and I've watched a lot of people die. Good people. Friends. If you're gonna wallow in self-pity and do nothing, then you're gonna watch the same thing, you understand? You wanna watch her die?" Logan jerked his head to Y/N, and her blood ran cold. Charles looked at her as Logan let go of him, and then looked back at Logan.

"We all have to die sometime." Charles said, taking a drink and turning away, walking up the stairs. Y/N felt her knees give in, but Logan caught her, leading her to the couch, where she laid blank faced.

"Told you there was no professor here." Hank said, and Logan turned to Hank.

"What the hell happened to him?" Logan asked Hank, but Y/N answered anyway.

"He lost everything. Erik, Raven, his legs. And then he finds out that not only has he lost his closest friends and is now paralyzed, he's also going to be a father." Y/N said emotionless. She was staring off, her face and mind blank. This happened often now, at times when Charles would stop caring about her. It was easier to shut herself off then deal with the pain. Hank knew what was going on, but he knew that there was nothing he could do for her, short of forcing Charles off meds.

"We built the school, the labs, this-this whole place. Then the war got worse. Many of the teachers and older students were drafted. Everything going on, it just broke him. He retreated into himself. I wanted to help, do something, so I designed the serum to help treat his spine. Derived from the same formula that helps me control my mutation. I take just enough to keep myself balanced, but," Hank trailed off as he walked around.

"He takes too much. He doesn't listen when we try to ease him back. He can't bear the pain, the voices." Y/N said, tears shrining to her eyes. As hard as she tried to bottle her emotions, it seemed the glass would always shatter and flood her mind anyways. "I want to be enough. I want him to be able to be happy without his legs, with a child, with me, but he's not. Why am I not enough?" She whispered, looking up to Logan. He sat in front of her legs on the couch.

"You are enough. He'll realize it. I promise." Logan said, thinking to his present, the world where Charles and Y/N lived almost happily ever after (minus the major wars they fought in). Y/N nodded, closing her eyes. She had barely drifted off when Charles' voice echoed through the room.

"I'll help you get her." He said, and Y/N sat up "Not for any of your future shite, but for her. And my," Charles lead off, and Y/N could tell he was trying to hold back his emotions. She stood to see him, but he didn't look at her.

"Son. For your son." Logan said, and tears immediately sprung to Y/N's eyes.

"We're having a boy?" Charles asked quietly. Y/N ran to him, and he wrapped his arms tight around her.

"I am so sorry, love." Charles said, and Y/N just shook her head against him.

She wished things would change, but change took time. She only hoped they had enough time.

~

She knew that although Charles was sorry, he was not going to stop. He was too deep now, it would take a lot more than knowing the gender of their child to get him to become sober once more. And although she wasn't allowed to go get Erik, she accompanied them on the jet to get to Raven. She despised staying alone while pregnant, and knew the others would take care of her. She'd be alright with them.

"So, you're pregnant." Erik said, looking over at Y/N. She sat on the couch with Charles, his arm around her loosely.

"Yes." Charles answered for her, and Erik continued to read the paper.

"And your powers?" Erik didn't look up again, and Charles' grip tightened on Y/N.

"The treatment for my spine affects my DNA." Charles answered simply, and Y/N cuddled closer, holding onto him tightly.

"You sacrificed your powers so you could walk?" Erik asked, and Y/N shut her eyes tightly, hands gripping Charles' shirt.

"I sacrificed my powers so that I could sleep. So that I could protect and care for my son." Charles' voice faltered, and she looked up at him.

"Charles, you can still care for the baby without your legs." Y/N said, but Charles just held onto her tighter.

"What do you know about it?" Charles shook his head, and she knew he was talking to Erik.

"I've lost my fair share." Erik said quickly. Y/N looked up at him. Had this monster really lost that much?

"Dry your eyes, Erik. It doesn't justify what you've done." Y/N said, and Charles rubbed her back and bump, trying to calm her.

"You have no idea what I've done." Erik said, and Y/N stood, Charles trying to get her to sit down. She was too enraged though, at the man who had practically taken her life from her.

"You took Charles' legs, his power. You took away the things that mean the most to him." Y/N said with tears in her eyes. Charles frowned from the side, upset that she didn't think she mattered the most, because she did, her and the baby. Erik was enraging him too, now.

"Well maybe he should have fought harder for them." Erik responded, and Charles stepped in front of Y/N, as Erik was rising from his seat.

"If you want to fight, Erik, I will give you a fight!" Charles yelled.

"Charles," Y/N said.

"Sit down!" Logan commanded. All their voices were coming at once.

"Let him come." Erik responded, and Charles lunged forward, grabbing Erik by his shirt.

"You abandoned me! You took her away and you abandoned me!" Charles yelled, and Y/N sat down, feeling sick. It was as if she didn't matter, as if she weren't even there.

"Angel. Azazel. Emma. Banshee." The plane began creaking as Erik spoke, and Logan was next to Y/N, the two of them holding onto each other as the plane shook. She fought to keep the bile rising down.

"Mutant brothers and sisters all dead!" Erik yelled, and Y/N felt Charles at her side. She clung to him as Logan clung to the couch. The plane began to tilt, and they slowly fell to the other side against the wall. Y/N felt tears in her eyes as she held on to Charles as tightly as she could.

"Erik!" Y/N yelled, but it was like he didn't hear her.

"Countless others experimented on, butchered."

"Erik!" Hank yelled from the cockpit, and Y/N let out a sob. She had never been this afraid, not even when Charles had lost his legs, or when she found out she was pregnant. She tried to resit the urge to puke, and she could feel it in the back of her mouth.

"Where were you, Charles?" Erik asked, and they began falling toward the cockpit. They let out a groan as they hit another wall, Charles holding Y/N as close as he could. "Where were you when your own people needed you? Hiding! You and Hank and Y/N! Pretending to be something you're not!" Erik yelled. They were falling at a quick rate, and Y/N let out more sobs, silently praying.

"Erik, please, she's pregnant!" Hank bargained, and as the plane went back to normal and the two fell into a seat, Y/N felt dizzy. She was resting against Charles, but she knew it wouldn't last long.

"You abandoned us all." Erik said, and then he looked straight at Y/N. "And now you're abandoning her." Erik said, and that was the snapping point for Y/N. She stumbled to the bathroom, almost tripping multiple times on the short walk. She finally made it there, where she threw up, struggling to catch her breath. She felt someone bring her hair back, and she wiped her lips before turning and looking. She expected to see Logan, but she instead saw Charles. She almost started crying again, and he held her in his arms.

In the five months she had been pregnant, Charles had never come to her aid while she was sick. She knew it was hard for him, but this showed he was getting better. Maybe one day, everything would be okay.

~

They arrived back at the mansion after an unsuccessful mission, and Y/N felt the progress that had been made being washed away as Charles began struggling. They had just walked into the mansion when Charles fell to the ground groaning.

"Charles!" Y/N shrieked, going to his side. Hank went to his other side, grabbing him.

"What happened?" Logan asked, but no one answered.

"Come on, up." Hank heaved Charles up, and Charles began panting.

"Why can't he walk?" Logan asked, and Y/N put a hand over Charles' own, which was raised to his head.

"He needs his treatment." Y/N responded, Hank placing Charles against the wall.

"Hank, Y/N, I can hear them!" Charles groaned, and Y/N's heart dropped.

"I know, baby. It's okay. It'll all be okay." Y/N responded.

"Can you make it stop?" Charles asked quietly, and Hank was already walking away.

"I'll go get it." Hank said, rushing up the stairs. Charles grunted, pressing his hands against his head. Y/N pushed his hair out of his face, kissing his forehead.

"Hey, hey! Pull yourself together. It's not over yet." Logan said, and Charles opened his eyes and put his fingers to his temple, looking at Logan. Y/N sighed, licking her lips and then turning, because she knew that Charles was about to use his powers for the first time in awhile.

"You don't believe that." Charles said, and Logan's face changed. Y/N turned back to Charles, coaxing his hand down.

"How do you know?" Logan asked, and Y/N just kept caring for Charles, trying to comfort him. It broke her heart to see him in pain like this.

"As these go," Charles put a hand on his leg. "This comes back." Charles put a hand back up to his head. He pressed both hands back to his head. "They all come back." He moaned, panting.

"Hey, it'll be okay, Charles. You're gonna be okay, baby. Look at me, it's okay. I'm here." Y/N comforted. She hoped this would be the turning point, where he wouldn't take the serum again.

"Look, she's still out there." Logan said, and Charles reached down to undo his shirt sleeve, pulling it up his arm. "But we need your help, Charles. Not like this. I need you." Logan said, and Y/N continued to push the hair out of his face.

"Charles, slow down." Y/N stopped him from fully hitching his shirt sleeve up.

"We can't find Raven; not without your powers." Logan said softly. Y/N looked at Charles, wiping the hair out of his face.

"You're strong. Stronger than anyone I know. You can do this." Y/N whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. She just hoped it was enough.

"I, uh, I added a little extra because you missed a dose." Hank said as he bounded down the stairs. Y/N backed up, giving Charles room to make his decision. Charles grabbed the syringe, and Y/N turned her head, not able to watch.

"Charles." Logan warned, turning towards him. Charles aimed the syringe, and Y/N could hear his whimpers. She waited for it to be over, so when she heard Charles exhale and the clink of the syringe as he put it down, she turned to look at him. He sniffled, and she realized that he hadn't taken the shot. He looked at her, but then looked down, ashamed. Y/N grabbed his hand, and he squeezed hers, shutting his eyes tight before opening them.

"Uh, H-Hank, do me a favor. Would you help me to my study, please?" He looked so young as he shook slightly, squeezing Y/N's hand once more before letting Hank grab his arm.

"Come on, I got you." Hank told Charles. Y/N let her hand slip out of his, watching silently as the two made it to the study.

Only then did she let the tears fall.

"Y/N," Logan put a hand on her shoulder, and she lost it, falling to her knees as she sobbed. Logan kelt with her, keeping a hand on her shoulder but otherwise not getting to close. She had her hands covering her mouth, eyes squeezed tight as tears somehow still escaped.

"Thank you." She whispered through her tears, shifting to sit on the ground. She turned to face Logan now, eyes wide. "Thank you so much." She whispered. Logan nodded, his lips pressed in a thin line.

"Ya know, he would have eventually come off the serum, even if I hadn't been here. It was really you." He told her, and she just nodded. Logan helped her up, and she wiped her tears, sniffling as they made their way into the study. Charles was still shaking, sitting on a chair, and Y/N took a deep breath as she stood next to him. He slipped his hand back into her's, and this time she squeezed his as Hank opened the door.

"Are you sure about this?" Hank asked as they looked at the wheelchair in the closet.

"Absolutely not." Charles told him, but Hank got it out anyway. He helped Charles into the chair, and everyone was silent as they tried not to look at him. Hank and Logan shared an expression before leaving, Y/N sitting down in the chair across from him.

"I, um, just so you know," Y/N said, wiping her tears and hoping they wouldn't fall and cause Charles to think about it to much. "I've never cared if you could use your legs. Or, um, I never - I don't care if you don't want your powers. I just - I only want you to be happy. I don't want you to keep drinking. I don't want you to destroy yourself before your son even gets to meet you." She was struggling to keep her sobs in, and Charles reached forward and grabbed her hand.

"It's okay, Y/N, hey." Charles moved forward as much as he could to wipe her tears, and she grabbed one of his wrists.

"Charles," She whispered, and he felt the tears roll down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm sorry for all the pain I caused you." He sniffled, and she turned to kiss his palm. "I know that it wasn't easy for you. I know I haven't made things easy for you. But I still love you. And I can do better. I promise to do better." Charles told her, making her let out a sob.

"I'm just happy you're still the man I fell in love with."

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @roxaya @thefandomplace @punzoquack

[viperixsworld]

GUTS, luke castellan x oc(prologue)

summary: where an aphordite daugther falls for this lying hermes boy.

disclaimer: english is not my firt language.

We don't get to choose who we fall in love with.

Arianne knew that. She believed it to her core. Love was something magical and illogical. Her own father, said it when he told her about her mom. Apparently, she was a beautiful young woman that crossed paths with Nicholas Deveraux (her father) during his travels in Europe before officially settle down in the family business in Chicago.

Everyone expected that Nicholas would come back from Europe with a bad tan and a few souvenirs, not a freaking newborn baby daugther.

Nicholas was a loving father, but not a really smart man. That is It's one of the reasons she didn't question when a man showed up at her Chicago home, offering her only daughter a scholarship to a prestigious boarding school.

Arianne came to camp half-blood when she was thirteen years old. After some encounters with several monsters, Chiron himself went to her doorstep in Chicago to get her to camp.

Nevertheless, during her arrival there was an incident. An incident involving three more demigod, a satire and a cyclops.

Arianne was claimed a few weeks after the attack, same as the two demigos that survived. Luke Castellan, son of Hermes, and Annabeth Chase, daugther of Atenea.

And let me tell you, Arianne Deveraux didn't choose to fall for the son of the Traveler. It was fate, or maybe was her mother ? She wasn't really sure. They started off as friends, adapting to camp at same time, being the same age, having the same friends.

Arianne was a nice, generous and beautiful girl, she was the perfect definition of an Aphordite daugther. Everyone that knew her personally (and even those who didn't) held her close to their hearts. Knowing that if you had to trust someone, you could trust Arianne Deveraux.

It was also a flaw, being the goodie older sister of Camp Half-blood.

At sixteen, she was named captain of Aphordite cabin. At the same time, Luke Castellan was named captain of Hermes cabin. They started to spend more time together, attending bonefire together, sparring together... Then the gifts started, Luke liked how her eyes would shine everytime she opened a present, no matter how stupid or simple. He would get her little details, It was his way of showing love, his love language, and her siblings would beg her to ask Luke to please, please, get them things for the cabin.

On the othet hand, Arianne would be (even without her knowing) the best of the presents for Luke. She was kind and beautiful, and gave him all the attetion he craved. And even Annabeth liked her, and would let her do her hair when she was tired. She was a part of their little, broken family.

Sometimes, Ari would cover up for Luke, when he sneak out to get things for other half-bloods and for himself. Like a PlayStation or some chess board for Annabeth, or his little presents for Ari.

Sometimes, Luke would sneak her in the Big House, to use the phone to talk to her father.

Every friday night, the would sit in the shore of the lake, to talk about everything or to be completly silent. Every time the scar on Luke's face hurt, Ari would stay by his side and try to ease the pain. Every time Ari felt like the stress of carring everyones problems and her owns, Luke was there to relieve her.

They were partners in crime, always there for each other.

That, until an enemy emerges from the shadows and resentment.

That, until one betrays the other.

Until Arianne Deveraux feels love and hate in her guts.

[lujingheswife]

resonance with the rain.

soulmate au! get the same emotions as your soulmate does when they're experiencing strong emotions (when they’re sad, you’re suddenly sad)

featuring: neuvillette

word count: 2k+

summary: nobody understands the rain as much as you do, for your emotions always synchronise with the downpour in fontaine.

cw: gn!reader, human!reader, hurt/comfort, implied character death, fluff if you squint. dni if: you hate immortal x human :(

author’s notes: i’m a sucker for soulmate au !!!! tried out a human reader this time just for the funsies i guess,,,,, also i made a taglist for my soulmate au series !!! feel free to ask (and which character/all) if you wanna be tagged !!!

in the land of fontaine, there was a story told to the children whenever it rains.

“the hydro dragon once resided in fontaine, and every time it weeps, the skies will cloud up and pour out rain.”

a small legend you heard of as you grew up.

born and raised in fontaine, you had always watched your friends and family spending time with their respective soulmates. you admired how they were able to share their emotions and their burdens with each other. you remembered when you were younger, your father always came home with treats whenever your mother happened to be sad.

you were still a child when you asked him about how he was always there when she was sad, your father replied, “all of us has a soulmate. and you share your strong emotions with them.”

you held your father’s hand as you walked home with him from the groceries. your small grip on his hand tightened as you tried to catch up with his pace.

“i see,” you muttered softly.

you looked up towards the skies above, noticing that the clouds have gathered in one. a strange yet familiar feeling of uneasiness churned in your chest when your face was hit with small droplets of water that begun to grow heavier. everyone around you had started running for shelter; some had their umbrellas opened as an emergency.

you felt your father quickly carrying you up back home to not catch a cold. yet, your gaze never left the grey clouds covering the blue skies. your vision blurred from the tears welling up your eyes and your heart felt like it was being clenched tightly.

“goodness, is there another trial happening today?” you heard a citizen shouting as they ran as fast as they could.

you could no longer take it. you were happy just a second ago with your father, but why were you suddenly sad again on another downpour?

“hydro dragon… hydro dragon…” you choked out as your grip on your father’s wet shirt tightened.

“don’t cry…”

the cycle went on for the next few years growing up. during downpours, your heart becomes swelled with sadness. there were times when your parents tried to cheer you up and when they worked, the rain miraculously stopped as if they had responded to your laughter.

such events made you questioned the nature of rain. it was as if you were meant to resonate with it and vice versa. did the hydro dragon respond to your chant?

you wiped the tears off your cheek as you walked through the streets, the gentle droplets pattering above your head protected by an umbrella. the rain today felt different today, as if it was meant to relief a form of stress that had been piling up recently.

now an adult, you believed that your soulmate definitely had to do with the rain. although it seemed unbelievable at first, it was the only thing that could convince you that your soulmate was probably not human at all.

your countless emotions that always had to do with the downpours in fontaine, and how it always stopped when you felt the utmost joy of the day. and whenever you were sad, the heaviness of the rain would always depend on how sad you would be. when you were mad, the skies become covered in dark grey clouds.

your legs unconsciously dragged themselves to a familiar place you would visit every week. a grassy area by the lake, a cemetery, the place where rain never failed to visit whenever you arrive to meet your parents.

however unlike the usual, there was another person standing in front of a tombstone. the familiar figure was dressed formally in blue, his long white hair with blue highlights which you thought would look lovely in the wind was drenched from the rain that still poured endlessly.

you knew only one person in fontaine would have such appearance.

“monsieur neuvillette,” you called softly. the man in front you turned his head, his gaze fixed upon yours. to him, you were an unfamiliar person— just a mere citizen of fontaine; but to you, he was a powerful man who now leads the region— being the iudex and chief justice no one would dare to defy him.

you had no idea whether he was surprised or not, probably at the sight of your swollen eyes before you had even arrived the cemetery. he gave you a slight bow in return. “my apologies if i’m interrupting your time,” he said.

you shook your head. “it’s alright, monsieur,” you replied. your grip on the umbrella tightened ever so slightly at the sight of his drenched body unprotected in the rain, the feeling in your chest tightened. had he never protect himself from the rain?

the air was filled with silence as you took a few steps towards him before hovering your umbrella over both of you. the rain seemed to have slowed down, only a light drizzle surrounding you and him but you just needed to shield him from it.

how his eyes widened at your merely simple gesture. neuvillette looked away as he placed a hand over his mouth, letting out a small cough. “i apologise,” he muttered, “i don’t know if it makes any sense but, my chest is feeling a little… tight right now.”

oh! oh archons.

“m-my apologies, monsieur! it’s only been our first meeting but i’ve made things awkward between us,” you hastily said.

neuvillette shook his head, his head now turned towards the tombstones in front of him. “don’t worry about it,” he said. he turned his head back to you, his gaze refused to leave yours as he questioned, “i supposed you’re here to pay someone a visit, right?”

you nodded and walked not far from where you were, now standing in front of where your parents were buried. “yes. i visit my parents every week.”

the iudex had unconsciously followed you, now his turn to hold the umbrella above the two of you. he had just realised the bouquet of flowers you had brought with you, placed on the stone that had your parents’ names carved on.

he allowed the silence to take over as he accompanied you throughout the afternoon. he listened to you talk to your parents— talking about how your week has been, how you had tried a new pastry, and much more.

the skies had longed stopped crying, but the grey clouds still lingered around. it was not long until he heard how your words had transitioned to choked sobs as you with heavy heart knelt in front of your parents, hugging your legs as a form of comfort.

neuvillette felt the familiar sense of emotions engulfing him tightly— the sorrow that he felt on this day every week; as if he knew exactly how you were feeling.

he stood there in silence, maintaining his grip on the umbrella. the clouds have cried again, and it was as heavy as it always had been every week. he questioned himself a few times about his sudden change of emotions when he was merely doing his paperwork. when he asked the only person he could ask— navia— for advice, she only asked,

“monsieur neuvillette, perhaps you have a soulmate?”

a soulmate?

he watched her nod in response, perhaps surprised that she was requested just to give advice for the chief justice of fontaine. “you see, we have soulmates— a person we’re destined to be with,” she began, her eyes never leaving the curious iudex which she found entertained, “and when we feel extreme emotions, they have it too. vice versa.”

“i see,” he replied. he took his chin between his fingers as he pondered a little longer, “so the reason i’ve been feeling.. sad, every week for no reason is because of my ‘soulmate’?”

“aha! you get it, monsieur!” she chimed, clapping her hands proudly.

he thanked her one last time before sending her off to the entrance of palais mermonia.

“a soulmate…”

his soulmate was crying again, on this very day.

his gaze was stubborn enough to not want to let go of you. the rain was heavy again, his eyes half opened from the numbness of his soulmate’s emotions, yet his shaky grip continued holding onto the umbrella protecting both him and the crying person he had just met.

the hydro dragon sovereign never needed an umbrella, but he was doing it for you. he needed to do it for you.

“monsieur,” you whispered, loud enough for him to hear, “have you heard of soulmates?”

his eyes widened ever so slightly at the term he had been interested in for a long time. “yes, i have,” he replied.

a pause of silence filled the air, only the sound of patters from the sky remained.

“sometimes i wonder if my soulmate is the hydro dragon,” you added. neuvillette paused, thinking again of what you had just said earlier.

you sniffed, “since i was little, my sad emotions have always been to do with the rain. whenever i’m sad, the skies cry with me; whenever the skies are sad, i cry with them.

“the cycles goes on… ever since my parents passed away, the skies accompany me to cry with them every morning. it was as if… i could understand the rain.”

he watched as you stand up as you walked with him out of the cemetery. he watched your figure leaving the protection of the umbrella, your clothes drenched in the rain as you looked up to the sky.

“hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don’t cry.”

the rain got heavier at your words. your swollen eyes allowed more tears to escape as they mix themselves with the raindrops on your face.

oh, what should he do?

his soulmate is human.

a shaky breath escaped neuvillette’s lips.

he unconsciously stepped forward and took your hand gently in his, ignoring the surprised gasp from you. his figure was faced opposite yours, facing you as he slowly clasped the umbrella with your hands. his hand never left yours, allowing it to protect the shaky hand gripping on the umbrella.

“allow me to be selfish for once,” he muttered softly, “for i do not wish you to catch a cold.”

knowing how he should be protecting his identity as the hydro dragon sovereign, he instead decided to use his powers to keep you dry. a flick of his free hand and he created a barrier for you to stay dry from the downpour.

“monsieur neuvillette, what is this— oh…”

realisation struck upon you.

how the unique eyes that resembled a dragon’s on the iudex.

how he did not seem to be affected by the heaviness of the rain.

how he had just used his powers on you, but he did not wield a vision.

“i apologise for the late introduction, and only realising it today,” neuvillette breathed. before he continued his sentence, he felt his newfound soulmate closing the gap between you and him as you clashed your figure against his, sharing the warmth between you and him. the grips on your umbrella was released as it fell onto the ground unattended.

a pair of arms wrapped around his torso and a pair of arms wrapped around yours. it was a tight embrace, and their first embrace.

no sounds whatsoever, but he felt the joy sprouting within his heart. and he believed you felt the same too.

for the skies have cleared up slowly, leaving the light illuminating the land of fontaine.

“i’ve kept you waited long enough, haven’t i?” he whispered. he felt your arms wrapped around his torso tightened. his hand reached up to caress your hair, unconsciously resting his head on your shoulder.

“my dear soulmate.”

oh, what should he do?

his soulmate is human.

but you are still his soulmate… would it hurt to give this a try?

oh, what should you do?

your soulmate is not human.

but you could never be complete without meeting your soulmate, could you?

the anemo archon sent you the wind as a congratulatory gift.

the skies were illuminated with a rainbow.

there you were, not letting go of your soulmate's hand, who happened to be the iudex of fontaine. you found your soulmate.

now, what will the future bring ahead of you?

soulmate au! series taglist: @esthelily

[strangerstilinski]

eddie the hero

summary; the holidays bring about daddy issues of the decidedly un-sexy variety, but eddie is a total sweetheart and a goofball to boot. (this is very self indulgent.) 2.6k warnings; some angst but a very very fluffy end, trauma from overly-critical parents, eddie being sweet, some blood, a brief anxiety attack maybe?, i think reader is written gn (eddie refers to reader as a fair maiden but like jokingly? so do with that what you will) a/n; turns out, a combination of being home for the holidays and listening to mean by miss swift on the drive out brought up, uh... this. shout out to my dad for being himself over this holiday season, and shoutout ruby for very delicately insisting (repeatedly) that i get my shit together and simply.. make something of this trauma dump. so here it is; a wee bit of angst with lots of fluff to round it all out.

The kitchen is in chaos.

You've got about a hundred different things going at once in an effort to get everything ready for the holiday dinner that you and Eddie agreed to host. The smell of cinnamon from your morning baking endeavors still lingers in the air, though it's slowly being overtaken by rosemary and and the earthy scent of fresh vegetables. The hair at the nape of your neck is beginning to feel a bit stifling with heat from the oven already warming house, and you make a mental note to crack a window once your friends and family begin trickling in.

It's a little overwhelming, but you're doing your best to get what you've deemed the more detailed-oriented aspects of preparation done while Eddie is busy in the shower.

You intend to be finished by the time he's done getting ready. A mental plan has been laid out. You'll have the knife in your hand washed and dried and put away before he even emerges from the bathroom— no problem.

There was a problem though: you hadn't been quick enough.

You're in a zone of sorts. So much so, that you don't notice the footfalls of your boyfriend making his way down the hallway toward the kitchen. When he speaks from the doorway, his voice takes you completely by surprise.

"What are you doing?" Eddie's voice is soft as ever, though you're unable to process the gentle innocence in the tone of his question.

The realization that you've been caught has the heat in the kitchen very suddenly feeling entirely too warm. Your collar is entirely too tight around your neck while your mind whirls with sudden anxiety.

It's as if Eddie is no longer there. Instead, your ears are filled with the echo of your father's voice, the condescension in his tone ringing sharply in your skull.

"What are you doing?"

"Why are you doing it like that?"

"It's not that hard, bud. Just do it like this and it'll be better. How many times do I have to tell you-"

His voice would toe the line between irritated and amused, narrowed eyes making you feel a fool. It would prompt a frustrated prickle behind your own eyes and a tightness in your jaw when he'd show you the way you should've been doing it in the first place.

You heart races now with that unhealed scab of your father's never ending dissatisfaction. His impossible standards. His mean little digs and criticisms that masqueraded as him merely wanting you to be better.

Because you could always be better.

Growing up it was sports, your effort in school, it was the way you putted in mini golf, it was 'why on earth would you not dry the glasses when you washed dishes? That's just stupid because now they'll air dry with spots and-' From there began the slow evolution into the way that you drove your car, the way you spent money, how often you called and what time of day you called when you did..

Nothing you did was enough. In his eyes, there here was always something wrong, something that could be improved.

It's entirely possible that the stress of the holiday is getting to you already, if the way you've very quickly begun to spiral is any indication. And though there's nothing more than curiosity in your boyfriend's question, the familiarity of it makes you flinch nonetheless.

It happens in a flash. The paring knife in your grip slips and the blade slices the edge of your thumb instead of the potato you'd been getting prepped for boiling. A sharp sting that you barely notice. The sight of the blood that pools quick from the shallow cut has your ears ringing, Eddie's soft curses sounding muffled when they curl at your ears. It's a bit like you're underwater, sounds eerily distorted and brain fuzzy with the heavy beat of your heart.

"Sorry—"

It comes out as nothing more than a murmur under your breath. With a slight delay, you have the foresight to move your hand from above the bowl of already sliced and cleaned potatoes. Wrist now clutched to your chest, you zero in on the drops of blood that have already stained a few of them, red bleeding into the starchy whiteness.

"S-sorry, I just-"

Your voice is shaking as Eddie grabs a kitchen towel, his hands gently cradling your own and dabbing the towel at the cut so he can examine the severity of your injury. His brows are furrowed beneath the wispy curtain of his wet bangs, brown eyes wide with worry. His fingers are free of their normal assortment of rings, likely because he'd come out with the intent of helping you cook. Your eyes flick between his bare fingers and his shower-damp hair, between the roundness of his chin and the frown pulling at his lips — guilt pools heavily in your gut at the sight.

"I shouldn't 've been using a knife anyway, but I couldn't find the peeler s-so I just used the knife. I-I know it wastes more of the potato, I know that's not-" Your breath comes out trembling, your whole body wracking with it as your eyes prickle and burn with embarrassment. Your words come quicker, panicked, "I just wanted to get them done so I could get them in the water and start on the beans, but now I-"

"Hey, hey, hey," Eddie soothes, wide palm coming up to your flushed face where his thumb drags slow over the apple of your cheek while his other hand works to secure the dish towel in your fist to stop the bleeding, "Breathe, sweetheart. You're okay."

"I'm sorry," You whisper, voice thick with tears, "Was s' stupid, I'm sorry-"

"Baby.. Baby, hey-" His voice is soft. He squares his shoulders and follows your movement as he tries to meet your eye, brown finally connecting with shining pools that threaten to spill over. The pad of his thumb catches the first drop the moment that it breaks free, smoothing the moisture along your skin as he repeats the slow back and forth motion over your cheek. "The cut's not bad, it's not very deep.. What's going on, sweet thing? What's got you so worked up?"

Your next breath catches and it has your whole body quaking when it eventually whooshes out of your chest, a pitiful little sniffle escaping you in response to the sudden influx of tears.

"I- I was doing it wrong. I know- And then I- I got blood all over the potatoes-"

"We can wash the potatoes." Eddie says all too easily, though his voice still has that anxious edge to it that does nothing to make you feel better.

"We can.. We can wash the potatoes.." You repeat cautiously, as if the thought hadn't yet occurred to you.

"Yeah, baby. We can wash the potatoes." He echoes gently.

A shaky breath falls past your lips as you nod, "Sorry." You say again.

"I'm sorry," He insists with a shake of his head, "I came in here like a bat outta hell while you were holding a knife, and I scared you into hurting yourself. I was just- Potatoes we're supposed to be one'a my jobs. And, uh-" A grimacing excuse of a smile pulls at his lips, his eyes drifting to the discarded knife that lay at the bottom of the sink, "Well.. You couldn't find the peeler because it's in the dishwasher-"

You have to fight back a sigh at his admission, "Eddie-" You admonish weakly.

"I know, I know. It's not dishwasher safe. I know that, I do," Eddie says in a rush, "You've told me a million times, I just forget in the moment. I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry."

His earnest apology has you reeling a bit. The fact that Eddie's instinct is not just to apologize, but also to explain away his mistake with guilt dripping heavy from his words-

You suddenly feel a bit like a monster. A cruel, perfection-driven bully of your father's creation. It has a fresh wave of tears pooling in your eyes and threatening to well over.

"God," The word comes out a choked sounding thing, buried beneath the tightness in your throat, "I'm sorry, Eddie. It's not a big deal, really, 's just a peeler. If the dishwasher ruins it we'll just buy another one for, like, a dollar."

"Yeah?" Eddie treads, a cautious smile pulling at the corner of his mouth while his thumb continues to drag soft over the wetness spread across your cheekbone.

"Yeah," You sniffle around the word, panic and realization settling in and promoting your chest to heave with quick breaths, "Jesus. Y-You shouldn't be worried about my reaction to something so.. So stupid. Fuck. I- I'm just like him-"

"Woah, woah, woah. Baby, hey.. Just like who?" Eddie interrupts with a renewed sense of urgency, "What're you talkin' about?"

"My dad-" You sob, shoulders trembling with it.

"Oh, baby, hey. Hey-"

In a flash, Eddie is guiding your head into the crook of his neck, wetness transferring onto his skin as a dam breaks and your body trembles with a series of heavy sobs. You slot into the space below his jaw just as perfectly as you always do, the two of you fitting together like puzzle pieces.

He smells like shaving cream and the conditioner you'd bought him especially for curly hair. The combination of the rich masculine scent on his skin with the sweet citrusy perfume clinging to his damp hair makes your head spin as you try valiantly to follow his soft demands for you to calm down.

His voice rumbles soft over your ear as he shushes you, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your temple all the while. The towel wrapped around your fist tightens when Eddie's bigger hand encases your own, a slow sway overtaking your body as he urges your weight to shift from foot to foot in a soothing motion. He rocks you back and forth, your socked feet shuffling against the kitchen tile, your boyfriend's chest pressed tight to your own.

A wide palm smooths up and down your spine, a tune that sounds distantly familiar rumbling over your ear when Eddie begin to hum softly into your hair.

A minute passes, shuddering breaths come and less, the heaving of your chest and the tears in your eyes settling until each sniffle feels more embarrassing than anything else. A weak laugh bubbles up from your throat as you hone in on your boyfriend's socked feet nudging at yours with every shift side to side, your fist tightening around the blood-stained towel for a moment before you're hooking your own fingers around the back of his hand, palms clasped together.

"'re we slow dancing right now?" You ask a bit breathlessly, finally lifting your head from the curve of his neck to peer up at his with swollen, reddened eyes.

"Mhm," Eddie hums and drops his forehead against your own. That hand on your spine hikes you up against him, air forced from your lungs and another bubbling laugh pushed up your throat.

"You trying to woo me, Munson?" Your tease comes out a bit raspy from all of the crying, but you watch a grin pull at his lips regardless.

"Why?" Big brown eyes flick between your own, a little cross-eyed with how close your faces sit, "S'it working?"

You bring your free hand up to curl around the back of his neck, fingers slipping beneath his wet curls to ensure his forehead doesn't leave yours.

"It might be.." The words come out in a murmur.

You're feeling a bit mesmerized by his proximity, even after all this time. A sudden spin from your boyfriend has you stumbling over your feet, the only thing keeping you from losing your balance completely being the steadying hand that quickly finds a place on your hip and slides back to the base of your spine.

"It might be?" Eddie repeats with a scoff, "Oh, it might be, you say." A small huff of laughter escapes you and puffs out against his chin as he continues on, "Well I guess I'll just have to up the ante then, won't I? What shall I do, my fair maiden? What is it you desire? I could finish this lovely holiday dinner by myself, provide thee with sustenance-"

It's you who scoffs this time, "Right, hilarious. Our friends and Wayne will be here in less than two hours-"

"Or perhaps I'll wait until nightfall, pluck a star straight from the sky for you. Because what other courting gift could be better suited for a maiden who shines so bright-"

"Eddie," You can't help but laugh at his dramatics. The drying tear streaks on your cheeks are long forgotten now, the ridiculous man in front of you is nothing if not an expert in getting your whole attention focused on him.

"No. No, you're right. That couldn't possibly be enough to prove my endless love and devotion," He makes a show of shaking his head as he releases you from his hold and takes a step back. A sidestep has him bumping into the sink basin, a wide grin already pulling at his lips. "But this!" He announces as he snatches the bloody paring knife from the sink with a flourish, "This cursed object! Laced with evil, I'm sure! This blade that has brought harm upon you!"

You watch Eddie dispose of the knife with a smile pulling at your lips, and you only spare a small wince at the fleeting worry that it might tear through the plastic bag lining the inside of the garbage can. Eddie drops to his knees in a flash, dark denim coming into contact with the kitchen tile at your feet. His hands grip at the backs of your thighs as he looks up at you with wide eyes, the brown pools swimming with mischief and humor and love.

"-It is dealt with, my dear. It will never hurt you again. This I swear-"

The blood-stained towel falls to the floor as you take his head in your hands, carefully avoiding the drying cut on your thumb. You're swallowing down laughter as you guide him to his feet again. Your heart feels full enough to burst, and Eddie's expression of faux-seriousness is almost enough to push a giggle from your lips.

"Oh, my hero," You whisper with all of the dramatisation you can manage, "My big, handsome savior. Whatever would I have done without you here to protect me? How can I ever thank you?"

Eddie brings his palms up to your cheeks in a flash, and you know it must be a ridiculous sight. The current disaster zone that is the kitchen; ingredients lining every available inch of countertop space, a pot of salted water very nearly boiling on the stovetop, and the two of you standing at the center of it all — cradling one another's faces with all the care in the world.

Brown eyes flick slow over your face, the freckles on the bridge of Eddie's nose catching your attention all the while.

"One million kisses." He proposes.

A laugh does escape you now, though it's a giddy one, slightly flustered by just how sweet the man before you is. Your cheeks feel warm with it as your uninjured thumb drags soft over his cheek.

"One million?"

"One hundred million!" He counters immediately.

"One hundred million?" You repeat in disbelief, "Now, what's a guy like you going to do with one hundred million kisses should I give them to you?"

"Maybe you're right. Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Eddie nods valiantly, "We could start with just one, and work our way up."

"That sounds more than reasonable," Your cheeks are beginning to ache with your smile.

You push up onto your toes to brush your lips over his, scarcely touching. But when Eddie pushes forward, you rock back in an easy move, your mouth remaining just out of his reach.

"I am going to need that knife to finish dinner though," You whisper, the hushed words rushing over his lips in one breath, "The others are too dull-"

"Consider it retrieved and washed," Eddie says easily, "As soon as I get my kiss-"

It ends up being more smile than kiss, in the end, but there will be millions more to make up for it.

[lipglossanon]

Turbo Lover

∘₊✧───────────✧₊∘

masseuse!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader (one shot)

for the anon request who asked for masseuse Leon; I hope you enjoy it and thanks for your patience! 💜

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, fingering

not proofread ✍️

Title from Turbo Lover by Judas Priest

∘₊✧───────────✧₊∘

“Sarah swears by this place, so relax and enjoy yourself!”

You sigh, drumming your fingers on your steering wheel. After parking in front of a fairly ritzy massage parlor, you’ve been talking to you friend on speaker phone for fifteen minutes as she convinces you to actually go inside.

“I don’t know…”

“Please, you need to go get a massage; work has been stressful like crazy for you so do it. I’m telling you as your bestie.”

You laugh, “Okay, okay. I’ll go in and see what they have to offer.”

“See? It can’t hurt in looking.”

“I know. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Text me!”

And with that the resounding beep signals you’re sitting alone with your thoughts in the car. Sighing, you grab your bag and get out of the car. The front’s pretty minimalistic which seemed on brand for massage therapy you thought. 

Walking inside, there’s the generic calming music playing over the speakers with potted plants dotted all around. It smells wonderful though, like some sort of airy floral scent that you just can’t place. You make your way to the front desk and smile at the lady behind the counter. 

“Hi,” she smiles at you, “my name’s Sandy, how may I help you today?”

“Hi, I uh don’t have an appointment or anything but I was wondering if you had any openings?”

“Let me check,” she turns her attention to the computer to the side and quickly types, “looks like I have an opening with Claire in ten minutes if that’s okay?”

“Sure.”

“Perfect!” she shines another smile your way, “just fill out this paper for me stating your consent and if you have any allergies we should know in regard to the oils and lotions we use. You can also ask for a chaperone at any time if you feel uncomfortable being alone.”

“Thanks,” you return her smile, a little more at ease. 

You quickly fill out the empty spaces and hand the paper back to Sandy. 

“Great, just please have a seat and Claire will lead you back shortly. Would you like a water or anything while you wait?”

“Oh uh no but thank you.”

“You’re most welcome.”

You sit down on the nearest chair and pull out your phone to kill the time. Bringing up the ebook you’ve been reading, you easily lose track of the time. 

“I’m so sorry, ma’am!”

Your attention is pulled up to a blue eyed, handsome man standing between the desk and you, looking sheepish and apologetic. 

“Pardon?”

“Claire was called away on a family emergency, so I’m her replacement. If you’d like you can reschedule to be with her.”

You feel like a fish out of water so you just shrug, “I mean I’m fine with it if that’s okay? If I need to, I can reschedule—“

“No that’s fine,” he smiles relieved, “I just know sometimes people get upset if they come for one of us specifically and don’t get them.”

“Oh,” you place your phone in your bag and stand, “well I’m fine honestly, this is my first time here actually.”

“Really?” the smile he gives you is nearly blinding, “I’ll make sure to make it a great experience.”

“The name’s Leon, by the way,” he turns and leads you down a hallway off to the side. 

You feel a little warm as Leon walks in front of you. Since you didn’t give it much thought, you really didn’t realize you could have such a hot guy giving you a massage. His biceps stretch his sleeves while his broad shoulders and back strain against the shirt fabric. Your eyes drag from his sandy hair down to his tight ass. Praying for good luck, you just hope you don’t embarrass yourself in front of him.

Leon pulls open a door near the end of the hall and gestures for you to enter.  He follows you inside and points out where you can sit your bag and shoes. 

“I can step out if you want to take off your shirt and pants then lay down face first on the table; but, if that’s uncomfortable for you, it’s 100% fine to stay fully dressed and we can get started.”

You glance over at the massage table and then around the pretty spacious room taking in the counter full of oils, lotions, heating stones, and towels. 

You turn back to Leon to find him watching you, his face soft and earnest. 

“I think I’ll get undressed.”

In for a penny, in for a pound.

“Okay,” he nods, “you can just set your clothes on the chair next to the table if you’d like. Then once you lay down you can pull that towel up and over your body.”

He steps out of the room and firmly closes the door. You pause for a moment and once you’re sure the door’s completely shut, you undress and lay your clothes off to the side. Climbing up onto the table, you lay flat like he suggested and lay the towel over you.

A few minutes pass and then Leon knocks on the door, cracking it open so he can ask, “Is it okay for me to come in?”

“You’re good.”

He steps in smiling brightly again. 

“Great, since you booked Claire, she usually does the 60 minute full body massage, is there anywhere you don’t want touched or injuries I should know about?”

You shake your head, “Nope.”

“Alright,” he steps out of your line of sight and you can hear him shuffling through items. 

“Just let me know if you get too hot, cold, thirsty, or just uncomfortable and I’ll do whatever I can to accommodate.”

“Thank you, Leon,” you murmur.

“Of course,” his voice is warm like his hands when they come down on your shoulders, slick with some scented oil that smells like coconut. 

He asks you simple questions as he works: what you do for work, favorite places to eat in the city, any fun hobbies in your downtime, etc. 

He pulls you into easy conversation and has lulled you into state of complete relaxation by the time he’s finished. 

He curses under his breath and you hum questioningly. 

He sounds a little embarrassed, “Well, I got carried away and lost track of time. But I swear you won’t get charged extra.”

“S’okay,” you laugh, feeling gooey and comfortable, “definitely worth it. Best I’ve felt in ages. I hope I didn’t cut into your other client’s time.”

“Oh no, I was headed home for the day when Claire asked me to cover.”

“If I would’ve known that I would’ve rescheduled,” your tone turns pouty, “Leon, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” he chuckles, smoothing his palms down your back, “this was really enjoyable. Most people come in and completely ignore my attempts at conversation.”

“No way,” you’re affronted on his behalf.

His hands glide down your sides making you sigh, “Yep, just not interested I guess. But you were wonderful.”

You’re glowing from the inside at his words, always a sucker for praise. 

“No, you were wonderful,” you finally get out, “I was kinda nervous. But you got a repeat customer.”

He laughs delightedly, “What a bonus.”

You giggle and squirm as his fingers dig into your lower back, “Well I can get ready and take off.”

He digs his thumbs in right above your tailbone making your hips arch up as you moan. 

Feeling overwhelmingly embarrassed, you tug on the towel, “Oh god, I’m so sorry,  I didn’t mean to—“

Leon laughs, “Don’t apologize, it happens more than you think.”

“Oh,” the embarrassment still makes you feel like folding in on yourself, wishing you were anywhere but here. 

“Besides,” he presses you flat down onto the table again, hands quickly returning to where they were, “sounded pretty good to me.”

His thumbs repeat the action, digging into the tender spot of your lower back making you keen and rock up. 

“There we go,” he coos, “just relax, I got you.”

His hands drag down to your inner thighs, massaging the muscles. 

“Leon,” you whimper making him groan. 

“I got you honey,” his thumbs glide up from your inner thighs up to your panty covered pussy, stroking your slit through the damp material. 

“Think you need an extra special service for being so goddamn sweet,” he murmurs. 

He stops to grab the band of your panties, “Is this okay?”

“Uh huh,” you nod, brain already mush and he hasn’t really done much. 

He quickly pulls your panties off, tossing them over to your clothes. Pushing the towel up until it’s pooled on your lower back, he caresses your bare skin softly. He pushes your thighs open wider. 

“Fuck, pretty little pussy, need to lick her open, see if she’s as sweet as you.”

He pulls you down closer to the edge of the table, so he can get between your legs easier. He spreads open your cunt and spits on your hole. 

You keen at the feeling and he does it again. 

“Ready?”

“Please, Leon.”

Without any other preamble, Leon buries his face into your pussy with a groan. His tongue laps up the spit to thrust it into your drippy hole. He hums and drags his mouth over to your clit, suckling the sensitive bud until you’re squirming. 

He pulls away and twists your hips, “Fuck, baby, turn over for me.”

You quickly comply, spreading your thighs again but he folds your legs and pushes them up as he goes back down on you. 

“Oh god,” you wrap your arms around your thighs to hold yourself open for him. 

He shows his appreciation for that by sliding two fingers into your wet, fluttering walls searching for your g-spot. With a sharp whine, you rock down into his hand once he finds it. 

His eyes crinkle with a smile but it’s hard to tell when he’s tonguing up into your hole along with his fingers. He pulls away and spits on your clit making your hips jump up. 

“Fucking sex on legs, coming in here all sweet,” he growls as he goes back to sucking and kissing on your swollen clit, “like I haven’t been wanting to taste this hot cunt inches from my fucking hands.” 

“Fuck, Leon,” you mewl, eyes fluttering as he rubs against the spongy spot at the front of your pussy over and over and over. 

“Want you to cum all over my mouth,” he lashes his tongue against you clit before sliding it across your pussy lips, “get me soaked.”

He sucks your pussy lips into his mouth then moves to nipping at your thigh before drifting back to your sensitive clit. 

“Fattest fucking pussy,” he groans, sucking your hard bud into his mouth making you cry out, hands shakily letting go of your legs to tangle in his hair. 

“Oh ‘m so close, gonna cum,” you whimper, rocking down into him, holding his head against your pussy. 

He groans, eyes flicking up to yours as he fingers you harder and faster, mouth never letting up as he sucks and licks over your clit. 

“Oh, oh, oh, fuck,” your thighs tense and try to close around his shoulders as your back bows, pussy gushing slick as he lets you ride out your orgasm on his fingers and face. 

You know you must be pulling his hair too hard, but you can’t stop humping against his mouth as he extends your climax with his fingers on your g-spot. Slick is coating his face and jaw when he finally pulls away, your orgasm ebbing into pleasant aftershocks. 

You laugh feeling high on endorphins, “That was amazing.” 

“Oh,” you raise up on your elbows, “what about—“

You waves you off with a grin, “What do you think I was doing with my other hand?”

You bite your lip as he stands, spent cock bobbing as he cleans off with a nearby towel. A pulse of want blazes through you. 

“Next time, honey,” he laughs seeing your glazed expression and tucks himself away. 

“Think of this as an appetizer,” he winks, helping you up and redressing yourself. 

“I’ll definitely be back,” you laugh, kissing his cheek as he holds the door open for you. 

“I hope so.”

He gives you a short wave when you make it to the end of the hallway. There’s a new lady behind the desk, Carolyn, and she’s more than happy to book you in for Leon’s next available appointment. 

[ahedalshaer]

✨An emergency🚨📣, please stop for a moment, a story of life and death✨

We all know that winter is coming, and for a year we live in tents. Last winter, we were in our homes in Rafah, but this winter our homes were destroyed, and we have nothing left except a tent made of fabric, which does not protect us from the cold of winter or the heat of summer.

Do you know how difficult it is for a person to remain without shelter for an entire year, without a house, without walls to shelter and cover him? Today I am writing to you and I hope that you will help me and my family under these circumstances. You know that war merchants have raised the price of nylon, shades, and waterproof tents. The price of one tent is approximately $1000, and this is something beyond our capacity, and we do not have the money to buy even one meter of nylon.

So today I am writing to you to help me and my family before the arrival of the winter season to buy a tent to shelter us from the rain and the cold. We want to reach the goal of 10,000€ before the arrival of winter and the bitter cold. Donate even if it is 20€. Every small amount when collected becomes a large amount and we benefit from it and save our lives before it is too late.

‏That summer comes to you and you endure temperatures that reach the point of melting inside a tent made of poor nylon and you cannot stand inside it for more than two minutes? I imagined this, This is what we live and suffer from, but for how long?? No water, no electricity, life is very stressful, it has exhausted us, We don't want a life like this, we want to survive, your help is what will save my life from all this, just please put yourself in my place and if you feel for me just help me By donation, This is my only refuge, you are our only hope in this life

I have no choice but to support you in this difficult time. Dear friends, you can support my family either by donating or sharing my campaign link with others so that the goal is reached sooner, please help us. We are so tired and no one is looking at us. Please help us. If you can't donate, post the account Help us, we need you to spread our story to the world.. Listen to my voice to the whole world .

Verified By:

#butterfly effect project line No. 407

@moayesh @el-shab-hussein

account tag::

@commissions4aid-international @nabulsi @appsa @irhabiya @palestinecharitycommissionsassoc @palestinegenocide @apollos-boyfriend @queerstudiesnatural @buttercuparry @burtlebabe @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness @neshamama @baguetttee @sar-soor @divinefeline28 @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @sata-cable @gaywrites @aces-and-angels @neptunerings @blackfem @black-and-white @omegaversereloaded @komsomolka @heritageposts @feluka @felurin @drangues @bijoux-et-mineraux @afro-elf @transmutationisms @turian @mansbutchery @brutaliakhoa @triviallytrue @jezior0 @think-queer @wellwaterhysteria @lune-tic @forpalestine @watermelllonarchive @velvetys @gothhabiba @joshpeck @kuuhaiyu @moringmark @soracities @cyberianpunks

[jupitersswiftie]

THE ALCHEMY - PROLOGUE

prohero! deku x popstar! reader

(slight prohero! kiribaku x reader)

How many times could she pace her dorm room? How deep could her finger nails dig into her skin? Was she even allowed to cry at such a situation?

Y/n L/n found herself in the predicament of a lifetime. One that many daydreamed of. Her stress levels were, safe to say, off the charts. Her mind was racing, still in heavy disbelief that this was reality. The tension in her room was thick. Everyone could feel it.

“I, just, I. .I don’t know what to do, you guys!” Y/n worried aloud to her friend group, her voice more exasperated with each syllable.

Katsuki Bakugo was visibly growing agitated as he watched his girlfriend fret over something with such an obvious solution. Eijiro Kirishima watched his friend with worried eyes, hating to see her so upset. Denki Kaminari and Mina Ashido simply appeared bored as they knew precisely what she was to do. Hanta Sero was slightly confused as he had arrived late to the emergency bakusquad meeting in Y/n’s dorm room.

“Can I ask what’s going on?” Sero piped up, taking a cautious seat on Y/n’s lavender couch next to Kirishima.

Denki swiped on his phone, his expression and tone as monotone as ever. “She got a record deal and she’s debating whether she should drop out of the hero course and take it or whether she should stay and be a hero.”

Sero’s eyes widened with excitement before he turned to Y/n’s distressed state and scoffed, “Easy, take the deal.”

To Y/n’s close friends and family, this was a ridiculous ultimatum Y/n was giving herself. Even in the top hero school, Y/n lived and breathed for music. She would play guitar until her fingers bled and piano until her fingers cramped so heavily it was difficult to write the next day. She would abruptly leave conversations to take a quick voice note on her phone as she had just gotten a lyric or melody that she simply couldn’t forget. She had a whole mini studio in her room a lot like Jiro and Denki. She would stay up at night with them collaborating more times than they all care to admit.

While she was a good student, she evidently prioritized her artistry over her coursework and hero work. Yet, what beat her passion for music was the fact that her work was actually good. Class 1-A could not get enough of her music. They all eagerly awaited her melodies. Even the most monotone of the bunch enjoyed her work. Some even connected to her words on a deep level.

To her friends and family her purpose in life was painfully obvious. She was made for music.

Yet, Y/n was clearly second guessing herself.

Being at UA was an honor and a privilege to say the least. She decided to enter the hero course because she wanted to help people. She wanted to make a difference. She came from a long line of heroes and the impact that they made on the world was astonishing. She wanted to contribute in some way. She couldn’t leave people astray all because she had a silly dream.

She took a deep breath, hoping to communicate her viewpoint. “Yeah, but it’s not that simple!” She dragged her hand through her hair. “Yes, I absolutely love music and, yes, I would absolutely internally regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t take the deal. But, people would kill to have my spot here at UA right now. We only have a year left before we graduate and I don’t want to be selfish. Why would I spend my life writing words and melodies when I could be saving people?!”

Her final sentence was Bakugo’s final straw. He stood up from her bed and grabbed her face gently but firmly. “Now, you’re gonna listen to me, Y/n. Cut the shit. You know what you fuckin’ need to do. You’re not being selfish or whatever the hell you think that you are being by taking this deal. People don’t just need physical saving. They need it emotionally too . Your music will impact people in ways you’re being too damn closed minded to dream of. So take the fuckin deal and see what the school can accommodate. Got it?”

The silence in the room was loud. The bakusquad simply stared at the couple as Y/n peered up at her boyfriend, looking directly into his fiery, ruby eyes. They screamed confidence. Confidence in her.

She gently placed her hands atop of his and she mumbled in soft agreement, “Okay.”

An almost unnoticeable smile formed on Bakugo’s lips. “I’m so fuckin’ proud of you. You hear me?” He whispered gently gazing into her glossy eyes. He pressed a firm, reassuring kiss to her lips before pulling her right up against him in a tight hug.

The moment between the couple was a rare but sweet sight for the bakusquad as they weren’t usually too keen on pda. They would hold hands at times and occasionally snuggle up on the couch with one another. Denki even caught a few chaste kisses every now and then. Yet, they had never seen a moment so intimate shared between the two.

To Y/n, as Bakugo held her in his arms, the background faded. She knew that everything was going to be okay. She knew that she was making the right decision. As long as she had him, everything would always be okay.

While they were wrapped up in one another and the sweet moment of victory, they failed to notice was Kirishima’s angsty but loving gaze upon them. His stomach swirled with mixed, bittersweet emotion. Oh, how he loved them both so dearly. He longed to be a part of them. To share in this moment. To hold them close, pepper kisses across both of their faces, and celebrate Y/n’s much deserved success.

But, he knew that it would never be possible.

Not in this life.

When it was time for everyone to leave, he left the couple behind with much hesitation. What if he ran back in there? What if he told them everything? Then where would they stand?

He ultimately brushed the temptation off. Just as he always did. He walked slowly back to his dorm, his heart ached with each beat. He silently hoped that if he walked slow enough Y/n’s door would open and he would hear them call for him. They would invite him to join their celebration. But that moment never came. Instead, he heard their private laughter as he turned the corner towards his room.

He couldn’t help the tear that fell down his cheek. He wiped it quickly thinking to himself, ‘How unmanly.’

Months passed and much had changed. Y/n L/n was a quick rising new star that the world could not get enough of. UA had surprisingly been extremely accommodating to her situation. Denki and Mina theorized that it was because Principal Nezu and All Might were quite huge (but closeted) fans of her work and longed to see her graduate from their institution. They provided her with portable academic work for when she was on the road and only required that she keep her hero license up to date while she attended UA. She could pop in and out of in person schooling as she needed.

When Y/n was gone, Bakugo found himself mostly at Kirishima’s side. They were best friends after all. They spared, played video games, and had developed the more recent habit of deep late night chats. These chats were a dangerous game. They both knew it. Kirishima cautiously danced around the fact that he was actively in love with him and his girlfriend. While Bakugo internally wrestled with the fact that he was indeed developing feelings for his shark toothed best friend. All while he was dating the woman of his dreams.

How messed up could he be?

The amount of times that the truth had nearly came out was frightening. Oh, how they knew they were playing with fire. But fire is comforting if you don’t get too close. Right?