#i'm on my period and my periods are so heavy that i'm fucking afraid to sleep

[yanderestarangel]

HEADKANONS BI HAN | SUB ZERO MK1 WITH S/O

A/N: I'm going to write headcanons about all the men in MK, I'm going to write one shots, fanfic, I'm going crazy and more horny for each one of them... I'm gay as f*ck. Do you want to make a request? Read my blog rules in the pinned post.

TW: sfw, headcanons in general, afab reader, smut.

He is an aggressive lover. I mean, he's not going to hit you or anything, but he's extremely cold (I laughed after remembering that he's fucking sub zero lol), he's the type to talk the basics, even to you, so don't do it "silly" questions for him, if he's okay or if he ate, he'll answer: "-I'm here in front of you so obviously I'm fine." "-Don't worry, I know how to take care of myself, I'm not a child."

He likes to show his love for you through actions, like buying you something you've been wanting for a while, like giving you a bouquet of flowers, small but meaningful, Bi-Han doesn't know how to express love for anyone, I'm sorry, But it's the truth, but he tries for you, even if it's not the best.

Bi-Han cares about you even if he doesn't express it, he knows that he is a frustrated and wrong man in several actions, even if he wants to lie to himself that he doesn't, you both know that, but if you haven't given up on him, and You're still on his side, it means you love him, and he values that.

Bi Han won't let you work outside of his sight, that is, he will want you at home, you can beg or try to argue, he will say: "-Your job is to be my husband/wife, take care of our house, me and yourself, I can't allow you to go around." -He spoke calmly, but seriously, and that was really his thought, he just wants you to be close to him, he is afraid, terrified, of losing you one day. -

Bi Han is insecure, even if he never admits it, he gets jealous very quickly, he knows that you are a beautiful person, so he knows that many ninjas lust after you, even though you are married to him, so please don't flirt with other men or women, this man is capable of crazy things and the silent treatment he will give you after that will be for an indefinite period of time.

You are always on his mind in every mission, Kuai Liang and Tomas sometimes notice their grandmaster looking into space and perhaps, a transparent smile appears quickly, while Bi-Han looks at the landscape on the horizon, thinking about you. "-I hope (Y/N) is okay" -He said to himself, shaking his head soon after and returning to the mission.

When he notices that you are sad he becomes worried, but he just crosses his arms under his chest, and looks at you waiting for an explanation for such behavior, if you are upset about something that someone from the Lin Kuei clan did to you, consider that person dead, your grand master husband will immediately leave the house forming a deadly ice dagger in his hand, returning some time later, with a determined and blood-stained look. "-Okay, wipe your tears, the problem has already been solved, let's have dinner." -He spoke seriously and calmly, as he wiped the blood from his hands on a cloth, heading to the kitchen with heavy steps and giving you a look, so you could follow him.

Bi-Han lies down on the bed next to you, but he can't sleep for several nights, he finds himself watching you, your face so peaceful next to him, the ninja monster of the lin kuei, you look so good and comfortable next to him, he really wonders why you married him, you deserve someone better.

He covers you more with the sheet, caressing your cheek lightly with his thumb, while whispering on rare occasions, that he loved you.

"-I really love you, you know that? I'm sorry I'm not the best man for you (Y/N), I really want you forever by my side, and I'll protect you from this world, whatever the cost, what do I do and for me and for you." -Bi Han told you while you slept, he placed a chaste kiss on your forehead, while looking at the moon soon after, it would be another night that he would be haunted by his own demons.

Bi-Han's favorite couple's activity with you is strolling to a lake on the Lin Kuei clan's estate, sitting with you on the cool grass as the two of you watch nature, the swans on the lake, the cloudy sky announcing an upcoming rain. would soon come, the trees swaying to the rhythm of the wind, as Bi Han talked about his mother, he really loved her, and he is happy to see that you were really interested in listening, as he talked about childhood memories, making little sculptures of ice with his fingertips to represent the story he told, it's these moments with you that make everything he did, even the cruelest things, worth it.

He may not be loyal to the clan, but he is to you. He's the type that if someone comes at him, he has to be held back so he doesn't punch them for such audacity. Ex:

"-Bi Han, are you going to come with us-"

"-I'm a married man"

"-Bi Han, we just asked-"

"-I'm a married man, I told you." -He says pointing to the wedding ring and leaving. They were just going to ask him to drink a little, but as Bi Han said, he is a married man to you.

He doesn't like nicknames, only during sex, other than that he will call you by your name, or "my husband/my wife", he likes the idea of being called "husband" by you too, so if you If you refer to him like that, in public, he will melt inside, and smile slightly sideways behind the mask.

He is a wild man in bed, taking out his frustrations and anger on your beautiful pussy, mouth and body in general.

Bi Han loves blowjobs, if he could, you would be kneeling between his legs 24 hours a day, with your pretty face taking his entire cock in your mouth - I feel sorry for you dear, this man's cock is big and thick, he's literally going to hit it down your throat easily, leaving you breathless while your husband enjoys watching you choke on his dick like that -

He likes to degrade you in sex, it's a way for him to mark you as his and release his frustrations too, he will fuck you roughly, especially fucking you with his dick stuck in your pussy, with him lifting you easily while his hips they aggressively pound against your tight hole.

"-You're a great slut, you know? Taking my cock like a desperate bitch."

"-Oh fuck, you feel so good, don't you? Your pussy was made for me, the grand master lin kuei, and only mine, only I deserve you, do you hear? I'm just going to fuck that beautiful pussy until you can only think about how You want my dick inside you."

"-Do I really have a little whore as my husband/wife? How lucky for me then."

"-I'm going to fill you up... I'm going to fill that tight pussy of yours, and you want that, don't you? You want every drop of my cum, you're a hungry slut."

He loves to call you: "slut", "dirty bitch", "private whore", "nymph", "good boy/girl with a tight pussy". Most of the sex sessions you have with Bi Han end with him cumming on your face, pussy or belly, painting everything with his cum and leaving you panting with your legs shaking - for him, sex really is only good when you are weak from cumming on his dick, and overstimulated, with a swollen clitoris - He loves many sexual positions, but he prefers:

Cowgirl’s Helper: He likes to see you on top of him, your hands on his chest, while one of his hands squeezes your ass, and the other is behind his head. Bi Han watches you get impaled on his dick, stretching your pussy slowly, as your pussy drools on his pulsing dick, he looks at you, smiling smugly when he sees the rise of his dick in your womb. He would just groan in response to your desperate moans, watching your body move as you whimpered to cum - he wasn't going to let you cum yet, and if you did, he was going to punish the hell out of you, giving you at least five painful orgasms and pleasant that night -

Stand and Deliver: He loves seeing you bent over, your waist is sore from being bent over for him, but he loves seeing your ass and waist on top, thrusting into your pussy while pulling your hands behind your back, he would go so hard on your hole that your feet would leave the ground, you could feel the burn of the speed of Bi Han's dick in your pussy, but he wouldn't stop, he wouldn't stop until he left you a trembling mess full of cum - while calling you a desperate slut his cock -

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

#yanderestarangel #afab reader #bi han sub zero #bi han x reader #bi han #bi han mk #bi han x you #bi han mk1 #mortal kombat imagine #mortal kombat smut #yanderestarangelheadcanons #mortal kombat fandom #tw smut #smut x reader #bi han smut #sub zero #sub zero mk #sub zero x reader #sub zero smut #mortal kombat fanfiction #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 scenarios #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #mk1 2023 #mk sub zero #mk bi han #sub zero x you #bi han x afab reader

[911buddieweek]

Buddie Week 2024

Buddie Week 2024 is a week-long event to celebrate our two favorite firefighters. WIth the use of forms, the fandom could choose several things like the prompts and when the week takes place. All forms are now closed and everything is official!

April 8th - April 14th is Buddie Week!

Each day has two normal prompts and a quote prompt. To join, you only have to choose one of these (of course you can do more!). If there isn't a prompt you like, you can choose one of the alternate prompts to write for instead.

And here are the prompts (nominated and then voted by you). The order of prompts is from the most voted for to less voted for.

Monday April 8th: Borrowing/stealing/sharing Clothes - Secretly Married - "I'm right here, I always have been."

Tuesday April 9th: Protective Eddie - Co-Parenting - "I can tell you're not fine"

Wednesday April 10th: Clipboard Buck - Tattoos - "Is that my shirt?"

Thursday, April 11th:- Eddie calling Buck 'Evan' - falling asleep on each other - "Because I fucking love you!"

Friday April 12th:- didn't know they were dating - demisexual Eddie - "I swear it wasn't my fault this time."

Saturday April 13th: hugging from behind - Buck speaks Spanish - "I'm not letting you go."

Sunday April 14th: first kiss - hurt/comfort - "Please don't leave."

Alternate prompts:

stuck together

special rescue/heavy rescue Buck

amnesia

"I'm sorry, you want us to do what?"

"Shut up and kiss me."

"This made me think of you."

More information about the collection on AO3 will be posted later! But for now, you can start making things for this event! You can write a fic, make art, create a playlist, or do anything that you want with these prompts. You don't even need to post it on ao3 if you want it to. You can post anywhere.

During the week and the period after, I will try to reblog everything on Tumblr that has this account tagged in the post, or 'Buddie Week 2024' in the tags. You don't HAVE to tag me. I understand if that makes you uncomfortable - I was the same with my first Whumptober year and didn't tag the official Whumptober account or tags.

Everyone can participate! Maybe you can post fic recs with these themes. Post little snippets or drabbles. Do whatever you want. Maybe you've got your own idea how to participate.

The ONLY rule is that the use of AI is not allowed. And, of course be nice to each other! If something isn't your thing, exit the page, don't be mean.

I'm excited to see what you all come up with! I will be writing fics as well for this event. If you have any questions, don't be afraid to send a message or an ask!

To stay updated, you can follow this blog (@911buddieweek )

(Sharing/boosting on tumblr and other sites is appreciated. I do not have (or want) a Twitter account so I don't know if they're even aware of this)

#buddie #buddie week 2024 #911 #911 buddie #911 on abc #eddie diaz #evan buck buckely #evan buckley #911 abc #911 edit #911 on fox #911 on ao3 #911 art #911 ao3 #911 au #911 fic #buddie ao3 #buddie fic #buddie fandom #buddie fanart #buddie fanfic #oliver stark #ryan guzman

[ginnsbaker]

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (16/22)

Chapter summary: You go through a difficult period following your breakup with Yelena, and you and Wanda end up falling down the rabbit hole for the second time around

Chapter word count: 6.4K | Warnings: Angst, Mild smut | Ship: Wanda x Female Reader

Author's note: Before you say anything, I have a plan. Enjoy :) P.S. My requests are open

AO3 | Masterlist 

Next chapter: Seventeen Part One

--

Sixteen

“And then she kissed you?” Agatha asks. She looks the same way she does when she’s actively participating in gossip, hanging onto every detail of the latest scandal that keeps most people entertained in their insignificant lives.

Wanda solemnly nods, as if validating a piece of tragic news.

“Why aren't you thrilled?” Agatha observes quietly, picking at her tooth with her fingernail. “I mean, doesn't that confirm that she still has feelings for you?”

“You remember what happened last time, right? When she did more than just kiss me?”

Agatha grimaces, “Right, of all places, in our stockroom." Then, her tone morphs into a more probing one, “But, did the kiss feel as if she just wanted to get into your pants?”

Wanda lets out a sigh, her heartbeat quickening as she reminisces about its tenderness. It felt akin to a first kiss—vulnerable, slightly apprehensive, tinged with anxiety, and yet, at the same time familiar—like finding her way back home.

It was perfect in every sense. 

But it was tainted by its very nature. It was a betrayal. And if there were truly raw feelings behind it, then it’s worse—it would mean that you have been emotionally unfaithful to Yelena. 

Wanda may have ruined yet another relationship.

In the midst of her internal struggle, she finally manages to answer Agatha, “It felt like hope,” giving voice to her undeniable feelings for you. “But she’s with Yelena.”

“I never really had faith in that relationship to begin with,” Agatha retorts dismissively, cleaning her hands with a towel before reaching for one of the cookies on display.

“That's a terrible thing to say,” Wanda chides.

“I’m only being honest,” Agatha says, unapologetic in her bluntness. “You were fucking each other like rabbits and then a few weeks later, she gets a girlfriend. That's a classic rebound scenario. I'm surprised the woman she's with allowed herself to be used like that.”

Wanda finds Agatha’s uninhibited words a little offensive, though she understands that their deepening friendship has allowed for such unfiltered honesty between them. Even though she's jealous of Yelena, Wanda understands that she is good for you. She doesn't like how Agatha talks about Yelena as if she's too naive to try a relationship with you.

Wanda feels she can relate with Yelena. Often, love makes us scared that we might never get a second chance, so we choose to take a leap of faith, despite the warning signs.

“So, what are you planning to do about it?” Agatha asks, taking a bite of her favorite cookie. Wanda makes a mental note to deduct that cookie from the stock count.

Wanda shakes her head, replying, “Nothing,”

Agatha pauses mid-chew, her eyes wide with shock. Wanda can't help but observe the crumbs of food lodged in her teeth. “You're not going to seize this opportunity?” Agatha questions, disbelief coating her voice.

“Y/N needs to sort things out,” Wanda lets out a heavy sigh. “Without my interference.”

“You’re not afraid of missing out on this chance?”

Wanda sidesteps Agatha's question with one of her own. “Why are you suddenly supportive? It wasn’t long ago when you couldn't stand her.”

“I’m supportive of you. I’m rooting for your happiness, dear. But I’ve seen you at your worst, and I think you’re putting on a brave face right now.”

Wanda's eyes dip down. Her friend isn’t entirely wrong.

“What happens if she decides to stay with Yelena?” Agatha probes further.

Wanda's response isn't immediate; she takes a moment, seemingly lost in thought, before replying softly, “Then I hope she’ll be very happy with her.” 

Agatha rolls her eyes, because of course, Wanda would say that. Even if you were being served to her on a silver platter, she’d worry for your happiness over her own. 

“And where does that leave you?” Agatha asks, folding her arms across her chest.

Wanda lifts her shoulders in a casual shrug, her face unreadable. “Living life as it comes, I guess. Just one day at a time.”

At this, Agatha decides to drop the subject. She has a strong feeling that Wanda’s just waiting for you to come to her, and when you do, she's certain that Wanda won't maintain this pretense of indifference. As for Wanda, she doesn’t want to obsess over what you’re doing or thinking. She doesn’t want to make the same mistake of hoping for an outcome that only you can decide.

Switching topics, Agatha raises an eyebrow and asks, “And the pup? Is he doing okay?”

Wanda smiles faintly, “I brought him home yesterday.”

“Well, that's a relief,” Agatha remarks. “Do you reckon Sparky masterminded all this to get Y/N to your place at an ungodly hour? Can dogs be that crafty?”

Wanda throws her an incredulous look. “Are you being serious right now?”

A wicked giggle slips from Agatha, spreading until Wanda finds herself laughing along. She doesn't notice the arrival of a guest until the distinct sound of the call bell jars her attention.

It’s Valkyrie, casually leaning against the countertop, looking awkward and so unlike her usual self.

Agatha casts a sly glance at Peter, who's been trying to catch her eye ever since Valkyrie stepped into the cafe. When Agatha isn't around, Peter fills her in on the latest happenings, a reliable source of juicy tidbits. Peter quirks his brows and discreetly nods towards Valkyrie, his mouth miming a silent message. Reading his lips, Agatha pieces together that this is the woman who recently found herself entangled in Wanda's intricate web.

Agatha sweeps her eyes over the woman appreciatively. Not bad. Not bad at all.

Wanda rubs her palms together, a habit she’s developed before taking a customer order. “Hi, Val! What is it for today? We have new beans delivered all the way from Niseko–”

“Actually,” Valkyrie softly cuts her off. “I was hoping we could talk?”

Agatha watches their exchange, an eager twinkle in her eyes. With the pace at which interesting events are unraveling, she may as well pop a bag of microwave popcorn to truly savor the unfolding drama.

Wanda nods and moves away from the counter, temporarily handing the reins to Agatha. They pick a spot in the furthest corner from the kitchen, well out of earshot, much to Agatha's disappointment.

“First off, I owe you an apology,” Valkyrie begins. “I’d blame it on the alcohol, but there’s no excuse for me pressuring you too much to take shots. That wasn’t cool at all. You already said no several times and I ignored you.”

Wanda waves her off casually. “Oh, it's alright. I appreciate the apology, but it wasn't that big of a deal. You couldn't have forced me to drink if I really didn't want to, right?”

Valkyrie's frown dips further at Wanda's easy dismissal of the issue. “No, Wanda. If I'd kept on, I might've pushed you into it even if you didn't want to. I'm just glad Y/N stepped in when she did.”

Something flashes in Wanda’s eyes at the mention of your name. Valkyrie catches it but opts to ignore it for the meantime.

“Yeah, I did feel a bit cornered that night,” Wanda concedes, a smile returning to her face. “But it's water under the bridge now. Was there something else you needed to discuss?”

“You sure don't beat around the bush, do you?” Valkyrie attempts to lighten the mood, but her tension is evident in her shaky voice and the way her fingers fiddle with her watch.

Wanda chuckles. “It's a skill I've been honing lately.”

Taking a deep, measured breath, Valkyrie gathers her courage. "Alright, here it is..."

Wanda tilts her head at her curiously, wondering what it’s about.

“I like you,” Valkyrie blurts out. “I don’t normally confess to someone I’m not even dating, but you’re… incredible. That's how I feel about you and I thought you should know."

“Oh! Uh…” Wanda trails off, blushing at Valkyrie’s confession.

Valkyrie nibbles at her lip, observing as Wanda fumbles to put her thoughts into words. She silently hopes she's left Wanda speechless in a good way.

“There’s… someone,” Wanda manages to utter out eventually. “I've been in love with her for the better part of my life.” Or maybe her whole life, if she’s being brutally honest.

Valkyrie nods, her throat tightening to hold back the sting of rejection. “It's her, isn't it?” she ventures, silently alluding to you.

Wanda diverts her gaze and emits a modest laugh. She must have made her feelings too obvious for anyone to see.

“She’s my ex-wife,” is all the explanation Wanda offers.

“Wow,” Valkyrie looks taken aback by the revelation. “That sounds messy.”

“It's beyond messy,” Wanda retorts.

“Go on,” Valkyrie encourages.

Wanda looks at her, thoughtful. “Are you sure you want to delve into my past? It might take some time.”

Valkyrie smiles, already leaning in closer to signify that she’s all ears. “I made time this morning specifically to talk to you. I want to understand, at least, why I'm being rejected.”

Wanda chuckles softly at the gesture. Collecting her thoughts, she starts to narrate a condensed version of the turbulent history she's had, of how she ruined everything that’s good in her life.

When Wanda wraps up her story, Valkyrie simply says, "Wow, that's... pretty fucking messed up."

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Wanda admits, biting her lower lip, anxiety swirling in her gaze. She worries that revealing her darkest past may have cost her a budding friendship. “I think I saw your interest, but I didn't want to jump to conclusions and have the wrong idea. I just wanted us to be friends. I still do, if that's okay with you.”

“Of course, I want to be friends with you, Wanda. More than the fact that you’re hot, we have a lot in common too.”

Wanda's cheeks tinge a soft pink at Valkyrie's flippant comment about her being ‘hot’.

“So, friends then?” Valkyrie extends her hand.

Wanda smiles in relief. “Friends.”

***

A phone call rouses you from sleep. You groggily glance at the clock and realize you've overslept.

“It’s done,” your lawyer's voice cuts through the grogginess as soon as you pick up the call.

Disoriented, you squint against the daylight streaming in through the window. “What are you referring to?” you inquire, your voice hoarse from sleep.

“Vision has settled,” she elaborates, her words crisp and distinct. “And he caught a flight to Tokyo last night.”

“He's gone?”

“From what I've heard, he intended to use the settlement money to finance his studies overseas. He won't be returning in the near future. But even if he does decide to cut his trip short, you're safe. He has no legal means to trouble you anymore,” she assures you.

“You've got snitches now?” you quip, your eyes narrowing in suspicion even as the beginnings of a smile tug at the corners of your mouth.

Her laughter rings out through the phone, followed by a breezy, “You're welcome,” before she ends the call.

It's over. A chapter of your past has finally closed. Vision has physically left the city, and you've literally paid your dues. You hadn't realized you were in a kind of self-imposed cage until now, when a sense of liberation pulses through your veins.

Before you can fully indulge in the relief provided by your lawyer's news, however, a persistent knock at your door breaks your reverie. You can't help but wonder who it could be, and how they bypassed the building's security without a notification from the concierge.

As you pull the door open, you find yourself face to face with the last person you expected to see.

“Nat?”

She appears ready to tear you apart. For a moment, the thought crosses your mind, 'this is it, this is how I go, at the hands of my best friend'. Strangely, you're indifferent to whatever she might inflict on you. Having her here at least affords you an opportunity to have a conversation.

Yet, Natasha doesn't respond. She doesn't even spare you a glance. Instead, she brushes past you and starts gathering random items into a large duffel bag she brought along.

“Nat, can you please just talk to me?”

“What for, Y/N? I have nothing to say to you.”

“Yelena broke up with me,” you say.

Natasha scoffs. “Yeah, no kidding.”

“Nat, please,” you plead. “You can’t just cut me out forever. I’m your best–”

“Are you?!” The outburst that tears from her is enough to make you recoil. “Are you my friend, Y/N? I woke up to my sister on my doorstep, in shambles. All thanks to my ‘friend’.”

You wrap your arms around yourself as tremors course through your body. Tears start to flow down your cheeks at the mere mention of Yelena.

“You want to talk? Fine, I’ll talk,” Natasha rages on. “I stood by you through thick and thin. I held your hand through all the shit you went through last year. I brought you into my home. I took care of you. I loved you–” Natasha's voice catches on 'loved', and your heart shatters at her use of the past tense.

“–and you just betrayed me, like I meant nothing. You betrayed my sister like she meant nothing. We both cared about you, Y/N.” Her voice dwindles near the end, her next words coming out just above a whisper. “So, no, we’re not friends. Not anymore.”

“Nat, I’m s–”

“You know what? I can’t fucking do this. I’m just gonna send someone to collect Yelena's things. If I don’t, just throw out her stuff like you did with your relationship. Goodbye, Y/N.”

The door slams shut behind her. You find yourself on the floor, curled into a ball, as you grieve the friendship you’ve known all your life.

***

Dark screens and unreturned messages follow.

Yelena has blocked you on every possible platform, cutting off any form of communication. Natasha hasn't, but she leaves all your messages unread, allowing your calls to go unanswered, seemingly enjoying your desperation. Clint ignores your texts, and Kate only responded once, promising to try and speak to Yelena for you. That was a week ago, and there's been no word since. You didn't think you'd be back in the dark place you were in a year ago, and the worst part is, you brought it on yourself this time.

The only news you get about Yelena is from your own mother. A few days after Yelena left your shared apartment, your mother called to ask what had happened. Apparently, Yelena had told her the news herself and asked her to take care of you and make sure you were alright. Throughout the call, you cried silently, feeling the remnants of Yelena's care for you even after you broke her heart.

And your mother, perennially at odds with handling emotions, simply offered her condolences. Although by doing so, she offered more support than she did when you were weathering your divorce from Wanda the year before. With your latest tragedy out of the way, she proceeded to ask if you could make time to visit Montauk over the holidays.

***

Drinking is… a problem. Again. 

But you approach it with more caution this time. You don’t drink as much at home so you can avoid not showing up at work the next day. Rather, you sneak in a flask in the office, sipping from it from time to time to keep you the right amount of…adrift. You’re too good with numbers that even with a little haze in your head, the alcohol doesn’t interfere with your work. 

It interferes with other thoughts.

***

When Kate finally calls you, you’re in the middle of a disastrous presentation at work. Her words had been brief, only giving you the time (three in the afternoon) and location (The New York Public Library) where she wanted to meet. 

It takes some time for you to locate Kate within the vast elegance of the Rose Main Reading Room. She's tucked away in the northeast corner, engrossed in her work, even on a Sunday. A towering pile of books rises to her eye level on her desk.

“I can’t believe I was wrong about you.” Kate says without looking up as you settle on the vacant seat next to her.

“Wrong about me?” you ask, keeping your voice in a hushed tone.

“I had this fleeting thought that you might actually be a good person.” she says.

Swallowing hard, you struggle to find a response, well aware that Kate is just laying out the facts. What kind of person would cheat on their best friend's sister? What kind of person would throw away years of trust and a lifelong friendship?

“She told you?” you finally manage to ask.

“Yelena didn’t say much,” Kate says with a hint of sorrow. “But I've never seen her look so…” she trails off, struggling to find the right words, and eventually concludes, “She doesn't look like the Yelena I know.”

You’re afraid to ask what she means by that. You haven’t looked in the mirror yourself, in fear of seeing the results of your own wreckage.

“She quit today, you know?” Kate reveals, setting down her pen to give you her full attention. You don't see resentment in her eyes, only caution. This is the most compassion you've been shown since your relationship with Yelena fell apart. 

The news of Yelena's resignation hits you like a punch to the gut. She had a promising career ahead of her, and she'd found a supportive environment in her workplace. It's hard to believe she'd just abandon that so abruptly. You feel a wave of nausea at the thought.

“I sort of saw it coming,” Kate adds. “Not her resignation–God, I tried my best to talk her out of it, but she wouldn't budge. I… I saw you running back to Wanda.”

Your eyes narrow curiously as you regard Kate. “How?” 

Kate sighs, pushing a pile of papers to the side to give you her full attention. “It's not a secret, you know. You might think you're being discreet, but you’re more transparent than you'd like to believe. You’re a completely different person when she’s around. I saw it during the 6-miler event we all joined by chance.”

There’s no point in denying any of that. The weeks that follow after that, you were crying to your mother regarding your conflicted feelings about Wanda. But if you had been aware of the signs as early as then, would things be different somehow?

“I didn't mean for any of this to happen, Kate,” you say, the words sounding weak and inadequate to your own ears.

“I know,” Kate says quietly, and there's a touch of sympathy in her eyes that makes you feel even worse. “But that doesn't change the fact that it did happen. And people are getting hurt because of it.”

You can sense that Kate is one of those people–by hurting Yelena, the girl she clearly loves. 

“I’m… I’m sorry,” you whisper. You wish there was another way to convey how sorry you are–a keyword to make it all go away.

“Yeah, me too. Mostly because I have to tell you that we can no longer be friends.” Kate says, looking genuinely upset about her decision, her gaze dropping to her hands as she twirls the pen between her fingers.

“I know,” you nod, appreciating her honesty. “Thank you.”

“Look, I have no idea how deep your thing with Wanda goes. All I know is you can’t keep running away. You can’t keep hiding behind the comfort of other people.”

You bob your head in acknowledgment, even though you're uncertain how to put her words into practice.

"Can you pass on a message to Yelena for me?" you ask, wringing your hands together nervously.

Kate lets out a sigh, her fingers halting their movement on the pen. “I’ll try. No promises though.”

“Could you tell her that I'm sorry...that I truly loved her?”

A moment of silence follows your request as Kate studies you, her lips pursed. It might seem hypocritical of you to make such a claim, but she refrains from passing judgment. But seeing your bloodshot eyes and your pale chapped lips and the lack of life in you, she thinks there’s probably some truth to it.

***

It takes you an additional week before you summon the courage to visit Wanda's apartment. 

Truth be told, you've been hiding away in shame, confining yourself to either your bedroom or your office, instructing your assistant to keep the door closed and not to disturb you, secluding yourself from the outside world. Aside from interactions at your work, you haven’t talked to anyone. 

A moment of misjudgment led you to lose everything that you were left with when you lost Wanda. But gradually, even as you were beating yourself up over and over again with the dissolution of your relationship with both Romanovs, Wanda became the only one you can think about. You can't escape her pull, no matter how hard you try. 

Eventually, you devolve into nothing more than a compulsion; a compelling need to see Wanda. Which is what brings you here, with your fist poised to knock on the door. But just before your knuckles make contact with the wooden panel, the door swings open, and Wanda's voice unthinkingly spills into the hallway where you stand.

“–let me ask if the neighbor has some sugar–” Wanda halts dead in her tracks as she comes face to face with you.

The timid smile on your face drops as soon as you realize she's not alone. Behind her, comfortably perched on the couch is Valkyrie.

“Seems like you're already entertained. I'll head out,” Valkyrie proposes, getting up on her feet. “I'll pick up my shirt when you come around for the run next week, sound good?”

Wanda nods in a daze to that, her eyes never leaving you.

"No, I should leave," you counter weakly.

“No, Y/N, please stay,” Wanda implores. “See you later, Val. Thanks for the shoes.”

You stiffen and step aside as Valkyrie moves to gather her belongings. When she finally approaches the door, standing next to you, she tilts her head to murmur a parting sentiment intended for your ears only.

“You’ve got it all wrong. I had a spill on my shirt. Don't let her down this time,” she whispers. 

Her words stun you into silence long after she's left.

“Y/N? Please, come in,” Wanda invites you, her voice trembling slightly. Nodding silently, you step inside.

You regard each other quietly, simply observing one another for what feels like an eternity. This isn’t how you imagined things would go when you thought about coming here this morning. You wanted to see Wanda because you needed to be with her. But now, all you can think about is Wanda and Valkyrie being all over each other.

“It’s been awhile,” Wanda offers, not really sure how to begin as you stay awkwardly near the door–as if you’re strategically placing yourself there in case you decide you want to run. She studies you, attempting to read your expression, to figure out what this could be about. She’s been thinking about the thumb drive that contained the video of her and Vision. Did you finally see it? Did you decide to pay him off?

Or is this about Yelena? Wanda’s been thinking if you came clean to your girlfriend about the kiss, wondering if you've managed to patch things up, and if Yelena has forgiven you.

If you’ve chosen to be with Yelena after all.

“Yeah, Valkyrie was here pretty early, wasn't she?” you state more than ask, a hint of bitterness edging your words. You glance at your watch, adding, “At 6:30 in the morning, no less.”

Wanda furrows her brows at your tone, as though she's on the receiving end of an unfounded accusation.

“She was on her morning run, dropped by to hand over a pair of shoes from her club's sponsor. Nothing more,” she explains.

You snort, "Sounds awfully convenient."

Rather than entertain your skepticism further, Wanda redirects the conversation elsewhere. What you presume about her and Valkyrie is the last of her worries right now.

“Why are you here, Y/N?” Wanda asks, her voice a little unsure. When your eyes meet hers, Wanda sees the signs of sleepless nights and a certain emptiness that paints a clear picture.

You and Yelena are done.

And it's breaking you. Her heart aches, even knowing that you're now, technically, available. She never wanted this for you. And she can't help but feel that she messed up your happiness once again.

“I just... I needed to see you,” you admit with a half-hearted shrug. “Looks like you didn't waste any time though.”

“Valkyrie and I are just friends,” Wanda insists, the edge of her patience beginning to fray.

“You seriously think I'll believe that?” you shoot back.

Wanda heaves a sigh, exasperation seeping into her tone. “Believe whatever you want, Y/N. Doesn't change the truth.”

“She was wearing your shirt.” you highlight, not quite ready to drop the issue.

“She spilled coffee on herself. I gave her a clean one. That's it.”

“And I'm supposed to accept that at face value?” you challenge, an eyebrow arched skeptically in her direction.

“Yes, you are!” Wanda says firmly. “Because it's the truth. I wouldn't lie to you.”

I wouldn't lie to you. Her words reverberate within your skull, playing on repeat like a broken record.

And that's the crux of it, isn't it? You're not sure whether you can still believe her.

“Y/N, please,” Wanda's plea rings out, sounding lost and desperate. She isn't even certain what she's asking for. What she does know is that you're teetering on the edge of a breakdown, still reeling from the pain of your breakup. 

You don’t look like you’re in the right mindset to talk about what you’re going through. About how you both left things. And as much as Wanda wants to figure this out with you, she can’t do anything if you’re not willing to trust her.

“Wouldn’t lie to me?” you repeat, your voice laced with sarcasm and a painful sort of humor. “Alright, let's put that to the test, shall we?”

Wanda's throat tightens. She's unsure where you're heading with this.

“Yelena and I broke up. She left me that same morning,” you start off casually, as if discussing the weather. “Because she deserved better. Because I am, as it turns out, selfish and deceitful, right?”

“No–”

“You said you wouldn’t lie to me.”

Wanda's mouth snaps shut at your words, a sense of finality creeping into her. “...yes,” she admits quietly.

Slowly, you advance towards Wanda, your steps intentional and calculated. She remains rooted in her spot, refusing to back down.

“Do you feel happy that Yelena and I have broken up?” you ask.

Wanda looks hurt by your question. "Y/N, no, of course not–”

Your stoic expression tells her you're not buying it.

“Do you regret our kiss?” you probe, stepping closer, until Wanda finds herself backed against the wall. You lean in, foreheads almost touching, your dark eyes daring her to lie to you.

Wanda takes her time to answer, but when she finally does, her expression is resolute, as though she's trying to prove a point to you. “No, I don’t regret it,” she murmurs, her words a mere breath against your lips. Wanda looks so taken by the hungry look in your eyes that she fails to see what comes next.

The kiss this time is a stark contrast from the last. There’s an edge of danger to it, almost like the kiss that started Wanda’s downfall that culminated in a near-death experience, the kiss that was punishing and every bit of the hatred you harbored for her. 

But there's also a desperation to it–as if you're sinking and this kiss is your lifeline; a frayed, ragged lifeline that could only be the one to pull you back to the surface. 

As Wanda's head hits the wall with a soft thud, a pang of concern breaks through the haze of your fervor. Swiftly, you slide your hand between her head and the hard concrete, cushioning her as the urgency of your kiss escalates. Wanda almost sobs at the subtle tenderness behind your action, the considerate gesture leaving her somewhat taken aback, considering the harsh exchange you'd had just moments before.

No, this is nothing like your previous encounter.

You're not biting down to break skin. Your fingers aren't pressing into her hips hard enough to leave bruises. Your tongue isn't demanding or invasive, it's simply there, matching her rhythm and intensity. Wanda is unable to do anything but moan under you and rub her thighs together to relieve the pressure that’s building there.

Yet, you still don’t let her touch you. You don’t let her fingers venture up your stomach from under your shirt. Instead, you catch her hands, lacing your fingers through hers, and pull her arms above her head. All the while, your lips deftly trace a path down her throat. It’s soft and wet and so utterly delicate–everything Wanda thinks she hasn’t earned.

Nothing prepares her for the moment your hand makes contact with her core, even through the fabric of her shorts. She realizes just how much you’ve been holding back when you cup her forcefully, groaning from the heat and dampness that hits your palm.

If this means what Wanda thinks it means, she doesn’t want it to happen against the wall of her living room.

“Y/N?” she whispers raggedly in your ear, feeling the heel of your hand starting to grind against her clit. 

“Yeah…?” you moan against her heated cheek as your fingers slips beneath her panties and find wet, wiry curls.

“Fuck–” Wanda whimpers at the contact. “B-Bedroom, please.”

Following her lead, you hoist Wanda up and her legs instinctively coil around your waist. She directs you towards her bedroom with verbal cues, realizing you're far too engrossed in lavishing attention on the skin just above her breasts to care about bumping into furniture. Your hand drifts up her back, finding the clasp of her bra and skillfully unfastening it.

And then no words are spoken at all after that.

***

Wanda stirs awake near noon, realizing that she's skipped her therapy appointment. Instinctively, her hands reach out to the area beside her, expecting to feel your warmth. However, she is greeted only by the cool sheets of the bed, the space vacant.

You're gone.

While she had been lost in dreams where she had a second chance at the life she yearned to have with you, you had quietly dressed and slipped out of her apartment, leaving no trace or note behind. You had vanished as silently and swiftly as a dream at daybreak.

Wanda arches her back, mimicking the languid stretch of a cat, the resulting pops of her spine easing the tension more than the action itself. The sex was… phenomenal. She couldn’t think of a better word to describe it.

When a bit of the afterglow wears off, she is haunted by a question: What happens now?

More importantly, are you coming back? Or is this a one-time thing for you?

With a weighty sigh, Wanda allows herself to collapse back onto the mattress. Doubt creeps in as she begins to question whether her decision to let this unfold was the right one. After all, you’ve both been down this path before, sex was not a magic remedy that mended everything. 

What she couldn’t deny, however, is how gentle you were with her. You were making love to her, and nothing could sway Wanda from this belief. It sparks a tiny ray of hope within her that perhaps this time, you're ready to give her another chance.

Maybe, just maybe, you're open to trying again.

Yet, the vacant space next to her feels almost accusatory. Wanda has never been fond of waiting. But it’s the only thing she can do for now.

After all, beggars can’t be choosers.

***

The call from her therapist comes at around nine in the evening. Wanda considers it a little unprofessional, given the late hour, but she supposes that Calliope sees at least a dozen patients a day. Truthfully, she’s been anticipating this call all day, especially after she deliberately skipped her session to–

A soft snore escapes from your half-open mouth, drawing Wanda’s attention momentarily.

–spend time with you. Wanda can’t explain it, but she’s afraid to bring this up to Calliope. And she knows that if she sees Calliope or talks to her, it would open the floodgates and everything will come rushing out before she can stop them.

She's missed two calls now, but the phone in her hand vibrates again and Calliope’s name stares back at her.

Taking a deep breath, Wanda finally picks up.

“Hello, Wanda?”

“Hi,” Wanda replies, aiming to sound cheerful.

Calliope wastes no time getting to the purpose of this call. “You missed this morning’s session. Did something happen?”

Wanda's gaze drifts to you, sleeping soundly, your hair a mess as it spreads out in every direction. The sheets have slid down, exposing your bare back in a manner that makes her want to abandon the call and join you.

“Oh, uh... I just got tied up at the cafe. Sorry for not informing your secretary,” she hastily lies.

“So, everything's okay then?”

“Yes,” Wanda confirms, her eyes never leaving you as she replies honestly this time. Calliope seems satisfied with that and proceeds to book a slot for Wanda two days hence before ending the call.

You open an eye at her lazily, your voice muffled by the pillow as you ask, “Who was it?”

“No one,” Wanda says without batting an eye. “Just a supplier for the coffee shop.”

Your response is a drowsy murmur, your face sinking deeper into the pillow as you pursue the lingering traces of Wanda's scent. A smile tugs at Wanda's lips at the innocence of the gesture, despite the fact that you’re very naked under the covers. She hadn’t anticipated she’d see you again so soon, moreso that she’d sleep with you again right away when she does. But you had showed up unannounced, yet again, and casually asked Wanda if she'd eaten dinner already. Wanda had barely gotten the word ‘yes’ out, before you’re urgently reaching out and snatching her into a hungry kiss.

And then it was all lips and touches and her coming into your mouth three times until she had to literally cover herself with her hand just to get you to stop. 

Wanda's cheeks warm as she surrenders to the memory of your fervent reunion from only a few hours prior, but your sleep-laden murmurings, muffled as they are by the pillow your face is buried in, yank her back to the present. She chuckles lightly and perches herself at the edge of the bed, drawing a line along your back with her fingertips, raising goosebumps along the path.

"Can you repeat that?" she prompts, massaging your neck.

You lift your head slightly, your eyelids still heavy with sleep. “I said–do you need me to go?”

Wanda shakes her head, even though you can't see her. “Let’s just sleep,” she whispers.

Wanda gets up to remove her shirt over her head. Then, she slides back under the sheets and curls up against you. She presses her bare body to your back, fitting herself perfectly against your shape. Your warmth seeps into her, filling the cold spots that your absence had left behind.

Wanda notes that this is the first time you’re willing to stay since before you found out she cheated on you. She closes her eyes and allows herself to drift away. If you’re staying, then there's an opportunity to talk about this tomorrow.

***

Leaving a slumbering Wanda behind is not easy. You have to gingerly disentangle yourself from her grip to avoid waking her up. Initially, sleeping with Wanda was not part of your plan, but seeing her with Valkyrie had stirred a sense of jealousy within you that led to a powerful desire to claim Wanda as yours.

And so it kept happening, again and again–like a drug you just couldn't shake off.

You haven't really thought about what it all means. To be honest, you've been actively avoiding it. A week of overthinking has left you stuck at a dead-end, feeling numb and desperate to feel something, anything at all.

And in all this, Wanda is the only one who seems to fill the void, the only one who doesn't make you feel so alone.

***

“Dr. Williams?” Pietro says hesitantly as he picks up the call.

“Hi, Pietro. I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time,” comes Calliope's voice, clear and loud.

“No, I was just–did we have a scheduled meeting that slipped my mind?” he inquires, wondering about the suddenness of this call. 

“We didn't,” Calliope assures him. “I'm actually calling about Wanda. Have you had a chance to speak with her recently?”

Pietro doesn’t like the sound of this. “No, I haven’t. Is she okay?”

“She missed her appointment this morning without notice. It’s the second time in a row. And I just got off the phone with her… she was deflective.”

“I'll check in with her,” Pietro promptly assures, before adding more softly, “Should I be worried?”

“She has agreed to meet me on Tuesday,” Calliope replies, deftly skirting around his question. “So, it may not be a pressing matter. I apologize for disturbing you.”

“No problem at all, Dr. Williams. Feel free to call anytime.”

As the call ends, Pietro is left alone with his thoughts. His mind is whirring with worry for Wanda, and he sits there for a moment, lost in thought. With a sigh, he places his phone back on the coffee table, a frown etching itself onto his face.

Feeling restless, he picks up his phone again, fingers swiping the screen with a certain degree of nervousness. His gallery opens up, a collection of countless memories frozen in pixels. He scrolls through it, stopping at a particular picture that still haunts him.

It's a hard image to look at, a memory of a particularly painful day. But he keeps it, just in case he needs it, a ghost hiding in his phone.

He knows, if push comes to shove, he has this to fall back on.

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[sandy-the-glader]

Hi!! I hope this is okay!! If not, no worries!! 💜💜💜 (I love you lots!)

Can I please request an Adrian Chase x fem!innocent!reader Where while Adrian is out and about doing his Vigilante work he comes across a bunch of criminals in a warehouse, and after they’re all “taken care of”, he hears someone crying and finds a girl hiding behind a pile of the criminal’s stuff, and she’s handcuffed to something over there, so she couldn’t leave even if she wanted to. She’d obviously be completely terrified of Vig, but as we know, he is very good at reading a person and would clearly see that she is innocent, and had been taken by the bad guys. Normally he would just set the innocent girl free and be on his way, having already taken care of the bad guys, however… He had unfortunately taken off his mask right before finding her, and had forgotten to put it back on, so she has seen his face. Panicking, he just picks her up, and takes her to his car with him, driving straight to the 11th Street Kids HQ, carrying in a terrified Y/n, he himself all panicked, and the team is like “wtf did you do????” “Did you abduct her???” And he’s just like, “No no, I saved her! But then she saw my face… So I guess, yes??”

Lmao it’s honestly a mess, but the team takes care of Y/n’s injuries, apologies for Adrian’s behavior lmao, and lets her stay there until she has recovered, as not only is she hurt, but very scared. After a while of staying with them, she gradually starts warming up to Adrian, him desperately trying to get her not to be afraid of him anymore (for a while there she was terrified of him), and their relationship eventually grows into a more romantic and intimate one🥺🥺🤧

Afraid of Me

*Not my gif*

Character: Adrian Chase x SoftFem!Reader

Type: Fluff and sorta angsty

Length: 5.4K (a bit long)

Summary: Request above <3

Trope: Strangers to friends to lovers, Slow-burn

A/N: LONG A/N!! Sorry this took forever I've been busy with a lot of stuff and I just haven't had any time but I worked on this whenever I could. Btw again I bent the request a little bit (I'm not sure if I wrote what you wanted for it and I apologize ) so I hope it’s okay I just made this go over the whole period of time the show does and like more so there's more time for a bond to be built lol

I heard a quick gunshot followed by another. Tears continued to fall from my eyes as I was tied to some random wall in some warehouse, Apparently, I was not supposed to come across two men selling heroin to each other but here I am. They claimed I saw too much, took me, and tied me up. Who even does that?

I just wanted to return to my apartment and read this new book I bought. That's all I had planned for my day anyway. Yet now I was tied to a pole in some wet and cold warehouse with random crates surrounding me. I tugged and tried to break from but it was helpless. I cried and sniffled as I continued to try but there was no avail.

Were those shots from them or someone else? Please god, let someone save me. I had been here for hours and I was scared of what they had planned for me. They already hit me pretty hard over the head which caused a small trail of blood to fall from my temple.

I heard loud and heavy footsteps coming towards me. I braced myself and waited for the figure to come around the crate to where I was. He was wearing a teal suit, with blood covering it. It was Vigilante. Should I be happy or terrified? He's a killer but isn't he supposed to be a hero?

"Fuck oh my god." He gasped slapping a gloved hand over his mouth. He was missing one exceptionally important part of his suit. His mask. That must have been why he was so frantic.

In all honesty, he looked nothing like I always pictured him. He was lanky with glasses and he looked really young. He looked mid-twenties though I had a feeling he was older. He honestly looked nerdy.

"I'm sorry. I really won't tell anyone who you are. I-I mean I don't even know your name." I stammered. He didn't care though because he continued to curse.

"Fuck fuck fuck. This is so not good." he groaned. The man ran a thick hand through his hair while bouncing back and forth. "Umm." He pondered confused about what to do. "Shit, I can't let you go." My eyes widen. He already has saved me why not let me go on my merry way? He took off his glasses and put his mask back on.

He came over to me and examined my situation. He crouched down and started untieing the rope that kept me on the pole but didn't bother with the ones around my hands or feet.

I was about to thank him for his acts but he picked me up and started to carry me out. Oh, he's actually not letting me go.

"What are you doing!?" I panicked. I started wiggling my body in his grasp then he held me tighter. "Where are you taking me? This hurts." He continued to keep walking until we reached his car a couple of feet from the warehouse.

Holding me with one hand, he opened the door to his back seat and tossed me in. Judging by his face, he didn't mean it to be as aggressive but it was enough to get me to shut up. He slammed the door and rushed over to the driver's seat.

This is it. After all that's happened today I'm being kidnapped by Vigilante and who knows what's going to happen. I guess the law doesn't apply when it comes to him. I actually can't believe it right now.

The entire car ride was silent. Not a sound from the man or from me. It was terrifying. All I could think of was what was going to happen to me. it took him forever to get to his destination and when we got there I realized it was some rundown video store. That couldn't be where we're going right?

-

"Guy's we got a fucking situation!" Adrian called opening the door with the girl in his hands. The whole team in the building stared at him with wide 'What the fuck' like eyes.

"Who the fuck is that?" Economos asked adjusting his glasses and leaning over his desk.

Adrian (not so carefully) dropped the woman on the floor making her yelp out in shock and pain.

"Did you just kidnap a girl?" Adebayo's eyes widened at the sight.

"No Adebayo!" He yelled defensively. "Okay, well technically yes but-" He was cut off quickly.

"And why did you bring her here?" Harcourt burst out running a hand through her blonde hair.

"Okay, I was doing my badass stuff, right? Like beating up these bad dudes and I found her behind some crates." They all stared at him waiting for him to continue. "And since I didn't know these dudes took a hostage I took my mask off and that's-" He removed his mask again and replaced the glasses on his face. "Really bad." He grimaced.

"Adrian what the hell dude you could have left her. She would have never turned you in. Look at her. No offense." Chris said. She stayed silent like she never heard the comment in the first place.

She was scared to death, trembling on the floor with small tear streaks down her face. Some of the tears mixed in with blood on the left side of her face. She looked innocent as could be and she definitely didn't deserve to be in this mess.

"Dude what the fuck!" He shouted at Chris. "Now she knows my real name! You have so fucked me!" He continued to cure which didn't make the girl feel any better.

"I did not fuck you! Besides it's your fault for bringing her here anyway." Chris furrowed his eyebrows looking back and forth between the petrified girl and his idiotic friend.

"What is happening out here?" Murn came out from one of the rooms and immediately regretted his decision. "We're supposed to be working on the project butterfly case what are you doing Chase?" He asked sternly.

"Oh, now she knows about Project Butterfly!" Harcourt placed a hand on her forehead.

"Well, it's not like I can kill her because she's innocent" The girl's face drained at the mention of death. "and we can't get rid of her because she might tell someone who I am!" Adrian wined out. He was finally right about one thing.

"She also might screw our plan up," Murn muttered trying to think of a reasonable thing to do with this girl.

"Then what do you suppose we do with her?" Economos folded his arms. The girl had been silent the entirety of this conversation but she finally piped up.

"Um.." Her voice caught everyone's attention and they turned their heads to look at her. "I-I can clean and o-organize around here." She stammered. "I can help you guys just please don't kill me." She pleaded. They all non-verbally agreed she had been through enough judging by the look of blood running from her temple and dirt caking her shirt.

"Yeah that honestly could be useful," Harcourt spoke. She looked around the room to only be met with agreeing faces. She let out another deep sigh before Murn spoke up.

"You will work the same hours as us and will get paid a fair amount." He folded his arms tightly over his chest. He didn't ask he just demanded she work.

"I'm also a fast learner and I can help you with anything you need. I don't have a current job so that would be perfect." She tried to look at the bright side of the situation. I can work for money but this is a destructive and hard-core business she pondered. "And since this is a very um dangerous job I just so happened to be trained in medical care." She offered.

"Oh, sweet! That's perfect so now dyed bear can stop doing such a shit job of stitching me up!" Chris smiled.

"Hey!" Economos protested. It was perfectly fine he thought.

"What about my living situation? C-can I still stay In my apartment?" She asked. They all looked around at each other because that was one thing they hadn't thought of. If they let her stay, she could always tell people without them knowing.

"If we let you stay in your apartment, you must realize he" Murn pointed at Adrian Chase himself. "has to keep watch of you? He somehow always knows if someone is doing something they shouldn't be." She nodded slowly. "And if you tell anyone and I mean anyone you will be terminated immediately, do you understand?" He spoke firmly making her hands tremble.

"I understand." She muttered.

"Now that everyone is done with this whole situation I suggest you get back to work," Murn concluded walking back to his office annoyed with the inconvenience.

-

I sat there absolutely stunned at what just happened. I just got myself into a bat shit crazy job. I mean I don't even know these people and one of them literally abducted me. This is not normal.

Project butterfly? Are these guys all heroes or something? I already was aware of Vigilante's existence and somewhat Peacemaker but there's a lot more than just those two.

"Oh my god, he didn't even untie you." The blonde-haired woman spoke in surprise. I didn't say anything because really what was I supposed to say? "I'm Harcourt." She kneeled beside me. She opened a switchblade and sliced through the ropes binding my hands together and then my feet. "Come on let's get you cleaned up. She went and collected the first aid kit from one of the desks on the left side of the room and motioned for me to sit at her desk. "What's your name?" She asked.

"Y/n L/n." I said quietly as I stared into my lap anxiously.

"Come sit Y/n." She said calmly trying to make me comfortable.

I stood up uneasily and almost fell back down. I steadied myself and carefully walked over to the chair and sat down gently. She pulled out a couple of cotton swabs and some alcohol. She poured the strong liquid onto the small ball.

"I'm sorry about him." Harcourt hummed taking the cotton swab to my forehead.

"Hm?" I replied softly.

"Adrian." She looked me in the eyes. "He just isn't all there sometimes." She mumbled. She tossed the bloodied-up swab in the trash and put a bandage over the small cut.

I looked over at Vigilante who I guess was named Adrian. He was talking to Peacemaker and he looked perfectly innocent. Not even an hour earlier he was tossing me into the back of his car. Jesus, what did I really get myself into? Not only does he have to escort me home, but now I have to work with him. He's a psycho!

"She has a point you know." The woman I was pretty sure was Adebayo spoke up. I glanced at her and she nodded trying to make me realize it. "He's a really good guy you just have to get to know him. I get it he basically kidnapped you but he's stupid in everything but fighting."

"Yeah okay," I mumbled softly. I don't care what they say now I can't trust him after what he did unless he really proves he's trustworthy. At least these people actually had the decency to tend to my wounds.

She continued to bandage and take care of every cut I had on my arms and face. I enjoyed her already because she was delicate to me and cared about my feelings. Pretty quickly she finished and put all the materials away.

"Come over here I think we found a box of old clothes you could change in." She led me back into the store and I could feel Adrian's eyes burning into my back.

-

"Dude she's afraid of me!" I panicked at Chris looking him dead in the eye. I waited for her to leave before I talked to my best friend about the whole thing.

"Well, I mean you did throw her in the back of your car. Chicks don't really dig that. Unless they're like hardcore." Okay yeah obviously I fucked up big time but I was under a lot of pressure and I wasn't doing what I should have!

"Dude I didn't know what else to do." I whined

"I mean you just gotta make things right with her I guess. I don't know I usually don't have to apologize to girls." He shrugged his shoulders. Great okay how am I supposed to do that when she's obviously afraid of me? Fuck. "Listen when you walk her to her apartment just be like 'Sorry for kidnapping you in my shitty car that was a pretty bad thing to do!' or something like that." I let out a heavy sigh. This is never going to work.

-

I came back out to the main room in a sweatshirt with the video store's logo on it and sweatpants that were longer than my actual legs with the same logo down the side of it. I held my original clothes in my arms and I was quiet.

What do I do now? Go home? How am I supposed to feel safe in my own home when I know that guy is watching me?

"Listen." Harcourt grabbed my attention. "You can take as much time as you need before you go home. I know that was probably a traumatic experience for you so let me know when you want to leave." She spoke as if she had read my mind. I nodded. "Also we have your address so we can get you home easily." Okay well, I told her my name and that was all it took to find out where I lived. Spectacular.

"What are my work hours?" I still can't believe I got myself to work for these people.

"Just don't get here any later than 8. Hours are different every day. Since you now work here I guess I should tell you who everyone is." She pointed to Peacemaker and Vigilante who were still chatting near the corner of the room "Chris and Adrian ." Then to the other man in glasses. "Economos." The guy in the other room that I could see through the glass. "Murn." Finally, she pointed at the last girl which I already knew. "and Adebayo."

I stood around for not too much longer before very anxiously describing to Harcourt my wishes to leave. She understood fully and went over to Adrian to make him take me home. He looked at me with some sort of care in his eyes but I just couldn't look at him so my eyes fell back to the sight of the floor.

"Come on kid." Harcourt motioned with her head to leave out the door with the man. I walked out the door and the cool air hit me as the sun started to sink down below the horizon.

One car ride and then I'm home. This time I got to sit in the front seat of his car instead of being thrown in the back like a doll. I secured my seatbelt and then just slumped against the car door. All I could really do was pay attention to the passing cars outside and the quiet buzz of the radio.

I also noticed the pleasing smell of his cologne that filled the car or how he hummed along to the Taylor Swift song on the radio. Someone like him is a swiftie?

"I'm sorry that I kidnapped you." Adrian broke the silence between us in an attempt to apologize. I ignored it and kept looking out the window. It was a long day and I genuinely couldn't tell if he was being sincere or was just trying to make me feel like he cared. "Please talk to me. I know I fucked up." I glanced over at him; his eyes flickered between the road and me. "Hey." He reached for my hand and flinched away with wide eyes and a quickened heartbeat.

His eyes lit up in sorrow. He looked like he felt bad. He backed off and for the rest of the car ride, he didn't talk anymore. There was so much tension in that car I felt like I was going to suffocate. I could barely look at him. I was still scared of his guts.

Every turn and stop made me think over and over about the events that occurred today. It was nauseating.

Finally walking through the door of my apartment left me with this feeling I couldn't describe. All of the events that happened today were fucking unbelievable.

The book I was planning to read was on my bed and was quickly tossed on my side table with a small thud. I sprawled out on my bed not bothering to do anything else tonight.

What. The. Fuck.

-

It's my first day on the job and my teammate already hit someone with a car. A van actually. I got to the disguised video store a bit after seven and Murn described the plan to me. Since I wasn't significant to the plan I just stayed in the car with a first-aid kit just in case things went south. And oh they did.

"Is he dead!?" I stood in the van looking at Economos dumbfounded. He didn't reply at first he was just making shocked quivering noises.

"I... I don't know?" My eyes widened as he started to get out of the car holding a crowbar tightly in his hands. I left the kit on the seats (since I had been fidgeting with the latches the whole ride) and followed him for support or something like that. Maybe I thought I could help. He inspected inside the car which he had hit fully force.

Judomaster was crawling on the ground in front of the car slowly. Economos inched closer and closer to him holding the crowbar. He whacked him once over the head and jolted backward then his body went limp. We waited and sure enough, he kept crawling. He hit him again and he still was moving. I slapped a hand over my mouth as he repeatedly hit him on the back of the head. He poked him a few times like you would a bug making sure he wasn't moving.

"Oh my god." He let out. "Fuck yeah!" He turned around to high-five me. I lightly returned it. "Don't worry he's not dead." He said sensing my shock. "They're hardcore it takes a lot."

"Well, what do we do with him now?" I looked at Economos for ideas. We ended up tying him up and throwing him in the back of the van. I watched him intensely. When would this dude wake up? I really hope not any time soon. Murn radioed us and let us know that they would be coming back soon with of course Vigilante. Economos drove us back to the spot we were supposed to be in and awaited their arrival.

"You're pretty cool." I complimented him. He was taken aback by the positive words.

"Well thank you." He adjusted his glasses with a bright smile.

We waited for 15 minutes until they finally arrived and loaded themselves into the van. Everyone looked untouched besides Harcourt's messy hair, a couple cuts on Peacemaker's face and Vigilante crying about his bleeding toe. I grabbed the medical kit I had set down on the seats just minutes before and rushed to Adrian's side.

I motioned for him to move his foot up to where I needed it. He hesitated for a moment but then proceeded to lift his foot into my lap. I scoped out his injured toe and I pulled out the needed materials.

Yikes. I was definitely glad that I stayed in the van. Adrian’s foot jerked in my lap as I tried to get some alcohol.

"Hold still!" I complained to Adrian trying to hold his leg down from wriggling under my grasp. From the looks of it, this man had managed to get half of his pinky toe cut off. That is such a bizarre thing for torture.

“It hurts so bad though!” He wined when I took the alcohol to his foot. He had obviously had worse happen to him but this?

“It could have been worse,” I said. My hold got tighter on his leg since it kept jolting side to side.

“Pft yeah, this was nothing!” He lied as if he hadn’t been complaining two seconds ago. “I’ve gone through worse in DND.” A small smile appeared on my cheeks. DND huh? Who knew the big strong Vigilante was a total nerd? And a swiftie...

“One of my characters got their arm bitten off by a bear so I’d say you’re okay,” I said. His eyes lit up at the mention that I had played before." Just sit still it's about to get worse." His eyes clenched shut.

"Oh shit!" He screamed out making everyone irritated in the van. I shushed him gently with a soft hand on his leg. He shut up very quickly but his body still tensed occasionally with every sting. I held his foot carefully as I bandaged it up thoroughly.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" I asked. I still didn't dare to look him in the eye.

"Yeah, but I can wait until we get back." He tried to act tough but I could hear the pain in his voice. I noticed a couple of holes in his shirt. Maybe I could fix his shirt while I'm at it. God am I being too nice?

I mean I'm trying to think of the bright side of what happened yesterday and honestly, it didn't seem so bad anymore. He saved my ass and I'm having a paying job. I can only imagine the pay is fantastic for what these people have me doing. I sat next to Adrian. I was feeling a little less scared of him now when I thought about him like that. Even through the visor, his eyes were peeled onto me. It felt like since I got here they never left.

Getting back to headquarters I couldn't get Adrian to get out of the van without making a scene. I dragged him quickly into the store so he wouldn't draw any attention from people lurking around In the streets. I pulled him by his hand and made him sit in the closest chair I could spot. He whined and moaned obnoxiously loud. I knew the stories and new articles about the man. He was tough and put up a big fight, he never lost against criminals.

I grabbed the larger bandages from an area Harcourt showed me just this morning and also some more alcohol.

"Show me where you're hurt." I looked at him curious about what else had happened to him. He pulled off his chest plate and revealed the deep stab wound in his shoulder. The fabric of his shirt clearly revealed the bloody mess it left. My eyes widen. "You kept this from me until now?"

"I could handle this. The toe I'm not entirely sure." I cleaned and bandaged the wound with intense concentration. I was careful and sure not to cause any more harm after this long night. "Thank you." He said softly. I just nodded and didn't reply with anything else.

-

The days passed as we worked on this project and the days were long and there was a lot of work to do. I didn't have almost any free time anymore so it was hard to make time for friends I actually wanted to talk to or things I really wanted to do. Adrian continued to try his hardest to earn my trust and befriend me.

I started to warm up to him crazy enough. He did little things for me I thought were sweet. Sometimes he brought me breakfast or he would try to learn about things I liked so he could talk about them with me. I started to trust him more and more as the mission proceeded because he was really good company. He would talk and I would listen.

A couple of days after the whole 'Adrian getting his pinky toe almost cut off' situation he got himself arrested. I didn't even know until Harcourt talked to me about it and what Adebayo said to him. I felt bad for him because as much as I thought I disliked him, I hated to hear he was where he was and how Adebayo literally manipulated him into doing it.

The night he got out he showed up at my apartment because he still needed to check up on me and since he hadn't been able to. For the first time, I felt comfortable enough to hug him. So I did, I wrapped my arms gently around his torso and gave a small squeeze. We stood like that for a minute before he quietly wished me a 'goodnight' without any further words. That was the kindest moment we had ever shared with one another

Then the next day we had another mission. Since all this time has passed, I had been informed on what a Butterfly fully was. At first, it was entirely confusing until I realized these were tiny alien butterflies here to kill us. I know it sounds like something straight out of a sci-fi movie.

I had to sit through a whole meeting in the morning next to Adrian where he (the whole time) joked with me. It felt sorta nice honestly. He never stopped being friendly and I just kind of started to accept it more.

And the whole mission went by quickly.

"Oh my god." I blurted when everyone arrived back in the truck. Peacemaker and Economos were fully drenched head to toe in blood, Harcourt had a good amount on her, and Adebayo and Adrian had little to none on them.

"We fought a fucking gorilla!" Adebayo exploded with astonishment. Jesus, sometimes I wish I didn't sit in the car the whole time.

"Economos is the fucking man." Peacemaker clapped him on the back with a proud grin. I did miss a lot if those two are now getting along.

"All the blood is the gorillas right?" I asked startled for a second considering the amount.

"Yeah we're all fine," Harcourt said tiredly.

"At least no one's arm got bitten off, like your DND character right?" Adrian nudged me in the side and sat down next to me. Sure I had only told him a few days ago about that but it still made me happy that he had remembered that tiny detail.

"Right." I smiled. Chris sat in the front and started playing music like he had at the beginning of the ride. I sang along with the rest of my team members to 11th Street Kids and I actually started to enjoy my work a little more.

I looked over at Adrian who was dancing like a dork. He looked so adorable? He was playing air drums and making up random dances as he went. I don't know why but I started to not hate him anymore. I started seeing this more personal side of him. Not Vigilante but Adrian.

"C'mon dance," Adrian whispered in my ear and nudged me again. I started to sway along with the group.

Later that night Harcourt made a group chat with all of us and sent a photo she had taken in the van. I set the book down I had finally got to reading beside me on my bed and picked up my phone.

Everyone was dancing in the van but on the right side, you could see me looking at Adrian with the sweetest smile on my face. The chat is filled with different emojis. The only number I had was Harcourts but from the merman emoji, I already knew it was Adrian. I liked his message and sent a fitting emoji to match the others.

I set my phone down and continued reading with a big smile. I never seemed to stop today.

-

It was the final day of the project and I wasn’t allowed to go. I wasn’t entirely complaining since this job was so bizarre but I was also disappointed. I mean all this build up and I don’t even get to go. They said it would be safer for me and of course, I understood.

But as the night carried on and the morning came through I was nervous. I had no texts or word from anyone. Sure, they still could be busy and have to do some other stuff before texting me but what if?

I heard a rushed-sounding knock on my door which threw me off. I ran to my door since the person decided to not stop knocking.

"What do you want?" I hissed as I threw open the door but I was only met with Adrian. My eyes soften upon seeing him. Oh, thank god he’s alive. "Adrian. Hi." I paused when noticing he was in a pair of shorts and a nursing gown. "Come inside." I ushered him in with wide eyes and closed the door quickly behind him. "What are you doing here?"

"Listen I jumped out of a hospital building to be her so-"

"Adrian!" I scolded him for being careless. I had started to really enjoy him I didn't need him being so careless all the time.

"Shut up. Sorry, but I need to tell you this." I stared at him silently with folded arms awaiting what he was about to tell me. "Okay, so after almost dying, I know what you're about to say please just wait. After almost dying, I realized had more feelings for you than I have ever had for someone and that's like a lot for me." He stepped closer to me. "I had to tell you those feelings just in case I actually died sometime. But now I'm scared if you reject me because of the whole kidnapping thing when we first met and usually I would be okay with rejection but I don't feel usual with you." He rambled and his hands made several confusing gestures along the way.

Everything about him told me he was being truthful. His hands were trembling with nervousness, He literally came from a hospital to tell me this and he just had that look on his face.

The feelings from the other day came rushing back. I really enjoyed being with genuine Adrian. The time we spent together over the course of this project was enjoyable. I noticed small things about him like the way he always made sure to keep an eye on me and was careful not to get me into anything super dangerous. He had become almost like a personal guard.

He even taught me how to use weapons, and also never overstepped my boundaries. So yeah maybe I developed a crush on my kidnapper co-worker.

"Why are you looking at me like that I'm like really nervous right now." He asked.

"Because I feel the same way. Even though you did totally kidnap and traumatize me." I nudged him smiling but he didn't return it. "Adrian I was playing with you. But I really do feel the same way." He let out a long breath. I was quite sure he had stopped breathing for a little while.

"Oh thank god." Adrian stepped closer and picked me up in his arms as he kissed me deeply. I've kissed a couple of times in the past but never did it feel as amazing as this. I held him close to me as if he would slip away again. He pulled away to look closely at my face.

"Just because you kissed me doesn't mean I won't scold you for almost dying." I glared at him but he just smiled kindly and kissed me again.

"If I keep. Kissing you then. I won't. Get yelled at." He said in between kisses making me start to laugh.

“Don’t scare me like that again Chase.” I shook my head kissing him passionately once more. I could get used to this feeling.

#adrian chase #adrian chase x y/n #adrian chase fanfic #vigilante #vigilante x you #freddie stroma #freddie stroma x reader #in such a vigilante brain rot again please help #adrian chase x reader #soft angst #fluff

[directdogman]

In my own writing I struggle with giving each character their own voice (speech patterns, phrases they use) and in Dialtown each character is super specific. Are there certain things you had to remember for each character, other than Oliver using his fucked up slang lmao.

When I write my characters, I can usually hear them in my head to some extent. Like, I can picture how it would feel to talk to them, or if I tuned out while one of my characters was chattering away about something, I can kinda hear the unintelligible static.

If you want me to write a lil essay pointing out differences in how the characters in the main cast are written, alright, I'll bite:

Verbal ticks help differentiate characters for me. We all know about Randy's stuttering, but there's more than just that in how the characters' sentence structures affect how we see their speech.

Karen's sentences tend to end in periods, if they aren't questions or if her voice isn't raised. Almost all of Randy's sentences, meanwhile, end with ellipses (…) or hyphens to indicate he trailed off/stuttered his way through the ending. Oliver does occasionally end sentences with ellipses or hyphens, but defaults to periods and often exclamation marks, as he's pretty excitable. This alone shows the difference in tone/confidence that the main 3 have without changing any words.

The characters all use slightly different terminology when they speak. Oliver's fucked up slang is only a part of it, he also uses theatrical language, often framing sentences creatively and in a way that absurdly beefs up the word count of his dialogue. He uses fairly atypical adjectives, surrealist language. He refers to himself in the third person sometimes. He uses imperfect tenses in order to make his sentences longer/less uniform. I'll give an example, from when Gingi asks Oliver if film reel movie projection is magic:

"I consider myself a sorcerer of FILTH, perhaps (an apt conjurer of muck/grime), but this artform isn't QUITE witchcraft NOR warlockery, I'm 'fraid."

Okay, putting aside the bizarre content of the sentence itself, one curious thing to note is that the whole sentence is full of words that don't convey any additional information. Conjurer is a synonym of sorcerer and he uses two synonyms for dirty AFTER already using filth. Guy loves theatrical language and will structure his sentence to make sentences much longer, so he can fit more of it in. But, then ends the sentence by taking a whole syllable away from the word 'afraid' and abbreviation it, like speaking with an accent. Oliver's sentence pacing is completely different to other people because of the volume of odd language he uses. In the context of the game, he's also drawing the player in by creating a pause, as the next line is:

"No, the actual "beaming" work comes from our dear old movie projector, and possibly my greatest love: Big Bertha!"

He likes Big Bertha and enjoys talking about her, and he tries to draw Gingi in and get Gingi invested in this thing by drawing out the introduction and forcing Gingi to wait for him to introduce Bertha in suspense. Randy volunteers info as if he thinks you're gonna hit him, unable to stand silence and hence, the sound of his own thoughts.

To contrast, Karen uses direct language, mainly. I wouldn't call her speech robotic, as most of the time she can retract language, she does (I am->I'm, I would->I'd, etc) but usually she uses direct tenses, and takes fewer words to say what she needs to compared to, say, Oliver. Generally, the words she uses tonally matches what she says. Weirder, less usual words come out when Karen is reacting to something she finds weird/illogical.

Norm's speech could be described as someone with a heavy accent who's well read, but is slightly insecure about being well-read. He uses words like 'y'all', 'ain't', 'reckon', retracts words like 'to' as 't'', but if you pay attention, he occasionally uses technical, academic language that doesn't match the aesthetics of the rest of his language. You can take the boy away from book learnin', but ya can't take the book learning outta the boy.

Billy is aggressive and generally, his language is designed to make the player feel bad in some way. Generally speaking, he's either insulting you, mocking your knowledge of the world, pointing out something you said as stupid, or is using words like 'lmayo'. Billy doesn't care much about the player, but is interested enough to talk to the player as a means to offend/demean them until you run out of things to say or leave, frustrated, which is Billy's goal. If you view what he says in this lens, you'll see this accurately describes how he speaks to you.

Billy uses surrealist language occasionally to seem more hellish and inhuman, but often, uses fewer words than other main characters. Subconsciously, it's to convey that Billy doesn't respect you enough to use more words. When Billy DOES use big words, it's exclusively on purpose and exclusively to subconsciously belittle Gingi, like when he refers to Gingi as a 'amphibian moron'.

God, similar to Billy, tends to use fewer words than most other characters. He often gives formulaic dialogue responses. There's no psychological play here, God just genuinely doesn't care how Gingi or anyone else sees him or if his tone/phrasing is improper because he knows how little respect people in Dialtown have for him anyway and embraces it.

Sometimes though, he does use uncommon synonyms for words, a byproduct of having lived so long through other times/eras. The references he makes are much the same. Fucker occasionally references ancient Greek figures and expects the references to land, as if everyone present somehow would've once somehow met these ancient fellows.

Mingus uses formal, impersonal language, and tends to use uncommon synonyms for words. The purpose of this is to subconsciously belittle the person she's speaking to and affirm her social class.

While she'll skirt past a commonly used word for a rare synonym in order to make her speech sound more dignified, she rarely leaves out pronouns in sentences. The reason for this is because most of her speech has an indignant tone. She's complaining about some shoddily done action or what she feels is a lack of service. So, the last thing she'd want to do is miss the opportunity to rant directly about her grievances in direct terms. Creative phrasing isn't used to replace pronouns but used to more elaborately phrase the error someone has committed to further emphasize her dismay. EG:

"You created the entire universe, and yet, the ability to perform a simple CARTWHEEL eludes you?"

Instead of saying "can", she says "the ability", instead of 'can't do', it's 'elude'. Hell, instead of 'do', it's 'perform'. But, both at the beginning and end of the sentence, she doesn't think to phrase the sentence in a way to avoid repeating the word 'you'. Like I said, the flourishes are just to drive the point home that she sees herself as above the person she's speaking to and to reaffirm how absurd she sees the limitations of others.

How Jerry talks is basically the conflict within a well educated but defeated man whose brain is decaying from years of substandard life. His speech, like his brain, is in conflict. His job dictates that he should always use terms of respect, like sir/ma'am, but he curses too. When he raises his voice, his sentences are often short and abrupt, but the words he uses tend to be elaborate and rarely used. Jerry is educated, has opinions on stuff. His mind is wasted at his job, and even through his defeated cynicism, you can subtly see that Jerry wants a better life through the words he uses.

Jerry's speech patterns are actually quite close to the narrator, and this is intentional, actually. The two characters share a few things in common that affect how they speak. Namely: Having to deal with Gingi's antics. There's almost a tired parental tone to both.

I could ramble for hours (please don't let me do this), but those are some examples of core character writing differences, namely in how I try to use language. Incorporating subtleties into the dialogue is good for separating characters and when you plan these out so that these placed differences are specific to traits that the characters have, your work'll feel more alive and be more satisfying to analyze later. Overthink. Overthink overthink overthink. It works, at least for me.

#dialtown

[larry-22-blog]

Period Complications part 2

Hello, please leave your thoughts and suggestions :))

I take requests, so if you have any please feel free to contact me :)

I was woken up by an annoyingly loud beeping noise.

Everything hurt.

I felt like I was hit by a train.

I tried to open my eyes but the light was too bright, I couldn't see anything or keep my eyes open for the matter.

I tried moving but my body was so fucking sore. Everything hurt. Everything felt too heavy.

After a while I managed to lift my right arm up, rubbing my eyes and using my hand as shade.

I looked around the room, it was so damn white and clean.

Where was I?

Shouldn't I be at home? In our bed?

I felt myself panicking.

Where was Erling?

I was feeling so afraid! I want to go home!

My thoughts were interrupted again by the loud beeping sound, coming from the right side of me.

I looked there and I saw wires and tubes being connected to some weird-looking devices and well, to me?

I was in a hospital?!

But what happened?

I tried to lift myself up a bit, but I was not able to move my left side.

I looked confused down and my heart melted at the sight.

My boyfriend was sleeping, curled up in an armchair, head resting half on the bed half on my arm, left hand holding mine.

He looked so damn pretty.

I felt myself relaxing and I moved my right hand to run my fingers through his messy hair.

My angel.

He always has this effect on me. The Erling effect.

He makes me feel safe and protected. Always.

When I'm with him I feel so invincible, like nothing can hurt me.

I'm not sure how or why but he does. By doing nothing, just being here with me.

I smiled down at him, he looked so pretty with his hair all messy.

Like a baby lion.

My baby lion.

I feel him stirring awake, looking confused around, then suddenly up, our eyes meeting.

"Baby, you're awake!" He quickly raised to his feet, almost throwing the chair against the wall with the force as he went to hug me, gently, careful not to hurt me as he hid his face in my neck.

"Baby I was so worried! I thought I lost you! I almost lost you…" he started sobbing into my neck.

I was even more confused now.

Almost lost me? What does he mean?

What happened?

"Erling, what-?" I tried asking him but I was so tired and I felt like I couldn't control my body, I couldn't speak properly.

But he seemed to understand exactly what I meant.

As always.

I've never believed in soulmates before. But there is no other normal explanation, this can't be normal right?

People can't just read each other's minds or finish each other's sentences, right?

But this is something that happened between us from the first moment we met.

People always tease us that we are soulmates.

And maybe they are right.

"You almost died, baby… You almost bled out… I was so scared!" He cried into your neck "I'm so fucking sorry, it is all my fault! I should have been there! I knew something was wrong! I could feel it! It took me everything to leave you in the morning! I knew your period came and that you were in pain but it was something off!" He was full-on sobbing in the crook of my neck, holding onto me for dear life "I knew something was not right and I still fucking left you! For that stupid game! And I couldn't stop thinking of you all day, I couldn't concentrate, I was constantly on edge, and we played so badly, we lost and I'm such a shit boyfriend! The worst fucking boyfriend in history! I fucking blamed you for our loss, for not being able to focus on the game!" I tried to calm him down, moving my arms around him, and rubbing his back.

Suddenly the events of last night came back to me, hitting me in full force.

"And then I went home and I was so angry at everything and everyone and baby I'm so sorry, I treated you like shit, I'm so fucking ashamed of myself! Of what I said and did to you, I just, I'm so fucking sorry" He was so distressed, I had to stop him.

"Erling, please stop, it's ok, please calm down…" I begged and he listened to me, to my surprise.

He slowly calmed down, it took a few minutes for the sobs to diminish.

He moved up next and I feel so naked all of a sudden.

I want him back on top of me, holding me. Anything.

I just want him close to me, touching me.

I immediately reached for his hand, with both of mine pulling him closer.

He smiled down at me, sadly, with teary blue eyes.

"I made your shirt all messy…" he said softly, sniffing.

My poor baby, he was so sad.

Because of me.

I brought this into his life.

This fucking mess that is me.

I always bring trouble.

Maybe that's why people leave me.

"Baby, do you want some water?" He suddenly said and I nod.

He brings the glass to my lips and helps me a drink and I couldn't help the tears that start filling my eyes as I look into his stormy blue eyes.

He looks so sad and tired.

He doesn't need this kind of stress in his life.

He was so excited about the game against Manchester United and I ruined it all.

As always.

I didn't even notice I was silently crying until Erling came back, after putting down the water glass "baby, hey! No, why are you crying? What's wrong?? Are you hurt, should I call the nurse?!" He asked, panicked, reaching for the emergency button but I stop him, taking his hand in mine, bringing it up to my face, and nuzzling my cheek on it as I cried.

"I ruined your game…"

"What baby! Who cares about the game! You almost died! I almost lost you…" Erling put his hands on my back, whipping my tears with his thumbs as he made me look into his beautiful eyes.

"Maybe it would have been for the better…" I turned away, still crying, I just couldn't stop the tears from coming.

"How can you say that??" Erling asked, looking at me in disbelief but our conversation was interrupted by one of the nurses.

"Ah, I see you're awake! Welcome back to us, sleeping beauty!" She cheerfully said, unaware of our conversation.

"Let's give you a quick check to make sure everything is in order!" She continued, making her way to us, "I'm going to ask you to give us some privacy, mister overprotective boyfriend" she joked but Erling was having none of it "I'm not leaving her!" He went all caveman, standing in front of me.

The nurse paled a bit and looked at me for help "It's ok, Erling, I'll be fine, could you please get me something to eat? And maybe some tea?" I tried and he looked down at me, uncertain "are you sure you'll be ok?"

"Positive" I responded and he sighed, kissing my forehead, then my hand, that he was holding, then walked to the door, not before giving the nurse a warning "if something happens to her…"

"Yup, I'm dead, got it! Now go get your girl some food!" The nurse joked, looking a bit scared.

"He's… something, huh?" She asked after Erling left the room as she proceeded to check my vitals.

"Yes, he can be… A lot" I admitted, blushing. I just love him so much.

"He's been constantly by your side, he almost fought the doctors when they tried to separate him from you…" she said.

Aww, my boy… he's so good to me…

"He's amazing…" I admit, blushing as she is checking me out.

"I bet he is! Well, looks like everything is going great! No more bleeding, your vitals are normal, seems like you're boyfriend's blood worked like magic!" She giggled at my confused expression.

"My boyfriend's- what?" I asked, shocked.

"Blood. He donated some of his blood to you. You lost a lot of blood and the hospital ambulance rushed you at had just used the last bags because there was a really bad bus accident, a lot of people were hurt and needed blood transfusions and he didn't hesitate to offer. He was your only chance." She explained, gesturing to the blood bag on the right "He saved your life"

He saved my life.

He gave me his blood to save me.

I looked at the blood bag, in awe. Erling's blood.

"He really loves you," she said as she arranged my pillow and covers.

"I love him too… He's the love of my life" I admitted, tears filling in my eyes again.

She gathered her files and walked to the door but before she could reach the door, she turned her head back to me.

"Whatever he's done, forgive him, yeah? He deserves it after what he's done" she says.

"How do you know--?" I asked confused. How does she know he did something to hurt me?

"He's been begging for your forgiveness since we arrived at your house, and fell asleep murmuring about how sorry he was, it was not hard to figure it out…" she explained.

"There is nothing to forgive, he saved my life…" I promised and she nodded back at me, giving me one last smile before leaving.

He gave me his blood.

Oh my fucking God!

This guy is unbelievable.

He really loves me.

Tears were filling my eyes again.

"I got your food baby and tea, baby! Let's get some nutrients back in your cute little tummy!" Erling excitedly explained, storming into the room.

I couldn't help but laugh at him between tears hoping he wouldn't notice that I was crying again.

This time happy tears.

"Baby! Why are you crying?!" He put the food down on the side table and rushed to my side, looking at me with worried blue eyes.

"Because you're too fucking good for me, Erling, that's why!" I reached up, arms around his neck and shoulders, pulling him down with a force I didn't know I have, shocking us both, and kissing him.

"Baby, what, what did I do to deserve it?" He said against my lips, kissing me still.

"How about you saved my life? Gave me your fucking blood! You selfless giant!" I answered not wanting to break our kiss just yet, making him moan into the kiss when I moved one of my hands to his hair, tugging on it.

We broke the kiss a few minutes later, and both of us flashed, lips were swollen from the heavy makeout session.

He straightened his back, rubbing at the back of his neck, looking down at me with a big smile on his face "since when are you so damn strong, baby?"

"Oh sorry, it must be the Viking blood in me…" I cheekily replied.

Note: please leave your thoughts and suggestions :))

I take requests, so if you have any please feel free to contact me :)

#erling haaland #erling håland #erling haaland imagine #Erling haaland one shot #erling haaland fanfic #football one shot #manchester city imagine #erling haaland smut

[seasurfacefullofclouds1]

Hey sea! Can you please give me the interpretations on each song from FITF?

Hi there!

I was looking at the FITF tracklist again, and something struck me that other people have mentioned but which didn’t really crystallize in my mind before. But this post made me realize that something really snapped in Louis’ mind during the pandemic.

In Louis’ Alt Press interview, he said, “I wondered if this was going to be my narrative for the rest of my life, where I'm just constantly frustrated that life wasn't dealing me the hand that I wanted.”

Louis talked about a few factors motivating him, and once he got started with writing Faith In The Future, things went really quickly. He got most of the songs done within 3-4 months of writing. The factors were:

1. Being able to sell 160k livestream tickets: he realized that he could “do this at a high fucking level.”

2. The influence of John Frusciante and Red Hot Chili Peppers, whose Live at Slane Castle documentary Louis watched FIVE times. Frusciante had left RHCP during a period of personal struggle, only to return to the band while making solo albums over 32 years. 5x is an obsession.

3. Moving away from the heavy, confessional balladry of Walls toward the lighter, more dynamic stage-driven Faith In The Future. Louis not only felt that he could do it (“Self-doubt, worry and a lack of confidence have, at times, plagued Tomlinson”), but that he DESERVES it. Louis feels his worth. The boosted confidence injects wry humor into much of FITF: despite the heavy themes, the album is ticklish with laughter.

So, just keeping this in mind, I realized that the songs on FITF generally had a theme of Louis’ saying, “You can’t have me anymore.”

In Walls, Louis was writing about going through a breakup, feeling forlorn and lonely (Only The Brave), wishing for reconciliation (Always You) and begging for love (Defenceless). Being alone was something he was afraid of, something that made him feel darkness and insecurity. Even when Louis was reconciled to being alone and trying to be brave about it (Walls, Fearless, Copy of a Copy of a Copy), there was still a feeling that he was responsible. Maybe he was not worthy of love. He woke alone with the same “problems under the sheets.” He had been Too Young. He was addicted to a Habit that had long ago stopped giving him happiness. Louis’ reaction to the pain: Kill My Mind.

In a way, he was working through the stages of grief (many types), but hadn’t really made it through depression.

In FITF, Louis’ attitude has flipped a switch. He is no longer scared or insecure. Louis has become aware that he’s amongst The Greatest. He knows that his journey is worthwhile; he can build his life for his own happiness, and he will no longer beg ex-lovers or any lovers. Whoever wants to come along with him is Lucky to be on this trip. There’s a feeling of light, wind, openness, amplitude, a hope for Paradise, the relief that he can look at any thoughts of suicide in the rearview mirror with gratitude for having survived, a grace and delicacy to his spirit, a distancing from personal anguish. On this album, Louis is nonchalant, effortlessly cool, calm, mature, sexy. It’s what makes him irresistible in every recent photo, and what gives his Instagram selfies an elegant, feline quality. Louis has defined success and peace on his terms, and love seems both sadder but also more attainable, calmer, warmer, because Louis loves himself more.

For Louis’ Track By Track explanations, you can read them here. These are my interpretations.

The Greatest: I’m never going to be in the cold again. We will never see the setbacks we saw in the past. No one will make us disappear again.

Written All Over Your Face: these petty fights are stupid. Whenever you feel like it, you can find me on the other side waiting. And by the way, both your anger and your desire for me are written on your face.

Bigger Than Me: I needed a bigger perspective. Time gave me a chance to rethink.

Lucky Again: there’s no use wishing things were different. Fate has other plans for me. I’m worthy of love; I will find it again.

Face The Music: forget consequences and anxiety. Live in the moment. Your instinct will tell you what’s right.

Chicago: our breakup hurt me incredibly deeply. No matter how much time has passed, it feels just like yesterday. But I learned from it, and I can rise above it.

All This Time: no matter how hard I try, part of me will never be “normal.” But what stays won’t be reminders of the pain of trying to fit in. It will be the love. Pleasure is pain. But pain is a lesson, hard won.

Out Of My System: A wall is a wall but sometimes it feels fucking good to smash it down.

Headline: you thought you could judge me and pin me like an insect, but you were wrong. We could have had a love like a poem; instead, you treated our love like the fucking tabloids. If you had tried to understand me, we could have made our own forever. Now I’m free; I have flown.

Saturdays: my heart might be broken and I’m a grade-A sap tbh, but my hometown is my secret weapon. Whenever I feel lost, I will always find myself there: “there” being the metaphor of Home that I carry inside. My childhood memories will always tell me who I am.

Silver Tongues: I’m a 90’s kid. I guess I’m a 90’s man now. Part of me still lives there. And I want to tell the kid in 2004 and all his friends, you’re gonna be alright. Hang on. Be good. Things will work out.

She Is Beauty We Are World Class: a brilliant night out

Common People: Doncaster is my touchstone. It grounds me and makes me who I am, reminds me what’s real.

Angels Fly: sometimes you have to table your grief and share a drink or ten with a friend.

Holding Onto Heartache: sometimes hearts don’t heal. Life feels like death. Every day feels worse than the previous day. Bad things pile up. What can we do? I am an artist, and I can write a grand, magnificent bridge to scream it all out, and it feels pretty goddamn cathartic! And maybe, maybe I can help others feeling the same way. My high is higher than most, and my lows are darker, but we can resist the pull of darkness together.

That’s The Way Love Goes: it’s their loss 🫡

You can see that many of these songs have the theme of recovering from loss, from heartache, but with an ebullient lightness that was missing from Walls. Most of all, Louis is also stepping back from sadness and self-blame, and giving himself some value. He knows he’s put in the work and he deserves good things, and he’s willing to wait for the payoff.

Forgot to add these photos of Louis looking thirty, flirty, and fucking hot.

#Fitf interpretation #louis songwriting #louis tomlinson #29 january 2023

[missveryvery]

Would you ever play bg3 as Trelle?

I keep thinking about it.

But you have unlocked something I want to vent/ramble about, anon. Forgive me.

Here's a TMI/depression dump that you can skip if you like to get to the pertinent answer at the bottom.

I, myself, am getting some, idk, ptsd shit from the game from how much trauma they dump on you and how you have to check in on everyone and do things for them and no one is taking care of you or asking about your own shit. I'm in too deep at this point to not finish at least one of my playthroughs but there's different places where characters are really fucking with you in painful ways.

So after I finish one (1) I will need to take a fucking breather before I start another. It can be good to go "ok, do you see the red flags you missed here? All the things that made you uncomfortable that you ignored for affection/attention/"the greater good"/being a team player/"being a good person" etc? Do you see how you could recognize it happening to other characters but not yourself?" in the safety of a game, but the feelings and sensations it brings up are real.

I get really bad nightmares, but the difference between a normal person with nightmares and me is that my brain doesn't "let go" of them the way it's supposed to so I get the trauma without the cleansing benefits of processing that stuff your brain is supposed to do when you sleep. This is why I avoid a lot of content with bad endings or that are just too fucked up or upsetting. I avoid a lot of media period now, I can't finish shows because I'm afraid of how they'll end, that they'll end badly (even just in some unsatisfying way like it's just badly written) and I'll be residually upset for too long.

I did not realize how upsetting this game would be, I thought it would be more "Honor Among Thieves" fun in tone but it's relentlessly heavy, and your "accomplishments" are all "realistic" in a "you can only do so much way". You save the Grove and...horrific things still happen. Some of the people there are still exclusionary pieces of shit. Even Halsin comes to the city and starts going "wow everyone is so shitty to refugees here, maybe the shadow druids were right, this city should be razed to the ground" like my GUY. Your Grove that you led did all the same fucking shit. What are you talking about. Shadow druids would just do all this harder. The fuck are you saying to me.

I don't think there's a way to slap him and point that out?!?

All that said, Trelle could not handle the shit happening in that game. It is Too Much. There were very fucked up things in CH but Rodrigo wouldn't go "there" and definitely wouldn't linger there if he did. She is not built for that. She has fucked up things in her past but there's ways of handling those things in the delivery and part of that is not making it Everything Is This and It is Constant. Like the ratio of Clown Business to Worst Thing You've Ever Heard is different.

That's a big difference between bg3 and an actual dnd game is that the DM can feel out what the players want and adjust. If your DM is good, they are constantly tweaking to make the experience as fun as possible for the group. Sometimes that means your players want more fucked up stuff and less clown, sometimes it's the opposite. Sometimes what they want differs from day to day. Like "ok everyone wants to go shopping, it's shopping day" and sometimes it's "everyone is going to go nuts if they don't fix what's happening".

This all sounds like it's a bad game. It's not. It's a masterpiece of game making and writing. But it's demanding.

NOT TMI ANSWER:

if I "stayed true to the character" trelle would fuck up so bad, she would not be able to beat the beegees, that girl would not survive that experience even if she did somehow complete the bigger goal. Obliterated. Done-zo.

#bg3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 meta #Halsin #ptsd #depression #night terrors #trauma #mental health #dnd #trelle #trelle surestep #critical hit

[maya-matlin]

Out of the degrassi movies (don’t look back, Hollywood, Manhattan) which one do you think is the most ridiculous and why? And how would you rank the plots in each movie?

(I did not include Schools Out cause while a lot of things that happened in the movie pissed me off it was nowhere near as ridiculous or far fetched as the others)

Oh god. This will be fun, because the story lines during those movies were all over the place. It was very clear the writers weren't aiming to do anything remotely realistic and just wanted to have fun.

I'm inclined to say that Don't Look Back, even though it's widely despised, is probably less ridiculous than the other two movies. At least they stayed in Canada? Tristan was trying to run a successful YouTube channel, but I don't think it worked out. For some reason, I can't remember the details of the kidnapping story line, but it's not totally unbelievable that a girl would do something drastic like fake her own kidnapping because her older, abusive boyfriend was manipulating her into thinking it's the only way they could be together. We already know Maya to be someone overly concerned with keeping people safe and that she can't stop herself from getting involved. So that's not totally off to me.

Degrassi Goes Hollywood and Degrassi Takes Manhattan speak for themselves. Multiple characters ran off to either LA or New York and managed to find fame in a short period of time. In defense of Manny and Paige being cast in Jason Mewes' movie, there was at least a previous connection because both worked on the set of the season 4 movie. In Manhattan, Jane just randomly met a guy in a band that was about to take off and ends up performing with them on live TV. Since we're led to believe Holly J got the internship on her own merits rather than Declan pulling the strings, that's kind of hard to believe. Meanwhile, Spinner and Emma drunkenly elope and decide to remain married, declaring themselves in love after less than a week. Ellie's plot was somewhat more grounded. The Crellie stuff was ridiculous, but Ellie was intentionally running from the reality of her father's condition. Not only that, but Craig and Ellie had both been ruined for years by this point. So sadly, it wasn't too shocking to see Craig's cheating ways mixed with Ellie's desperation and codependency come into play once again.

I guess this means my answer is Degrassi Takes Manhattan? Honestly, they're all ridiculous. None of them hold up compared to the regular episodes, but oh well.

Degrassi Goes Hollywood:

1.) Manny (If not for Craig's involvement in Ellie's story line and the heavy emphasis on their non-romance, that one would rank first. I'm not afraid to say that this one places first because Manny is my favorite and I like seeing her dreams come true. Also, Janny got back together. Cassie Steele's voice was at least good enough to justify Manny landing that role even if Manny hadn't been established as a good singer prior to this. I just wish Peter and his stupid fucking band didn't have to be involved. The writers never let her be free of that man)

2.) Ellie (As I said before, this one had a solid basis. After Ellie's family problems were placed on the backburner for four seasons, finally we were given an update. We'd already known Ellie to self harm. Season 7 hinted at Ellie eventually developing a drinking problem. The elements were there for Ellie to have a really compelling story with her spiraling and relapsing to cope with her dad's condition. Unfortunately, the crux of this story line involved Ellie reconnecting with Craig, and I can only overlook that so much)

3.) Paige (This is easily the worst part of the movie. It was hard to understand why Paige was suddenly after fame or why she was even living in LA in the first place. The Paige of seasons 5-7 had different goals in mind. It felt like they wanted to resume the Paige vs Manny feud, only not even that got much screen time. For some reason, the writers really wanted to punish Paige and imply that she and Marco would never be friends again. Also, Perez Hilton showed up during all of this. We need to give the writers so much shit for that. They legitimately gave that creep a paycheck. Unforgivable)

Degrassi Takes Manhattan:

1.) Holly J vs Fiona (Arguably, this was the best plot in any of the movies. It was literally just Fiona and Holly J feuding while attempting to stake a claim on Declan. Holly J got most of the focus, but Fiona's character and the hints of her alcoholism and mental health problems were the most interesting aspect of it. I mean, Declan wasn't worth all that for numerous reasons, but he and Fiona had an extremely codependent sibling relationship. Declan wasn't beyond redemption at this point, so even his role was somewhat sympathetic with his loyalty being divided between his girlfriend and his twin sister)

2.) Spinner/Emma (Like I said before, the fact we were supposed to think their impulsive marriage was a sufficient happy ending with so little build up was unbelievable. But at the same time, the actors gave it their all and made it almost charming if you didn't think too much about it. Spinner and Emma together isn't the problem. It's the way it was done and the fact it was blatantly a rebound for Spinner and Emma being so desperate to figure out her future that she jumped right into a marriage with someone she was barely friends with. Had more time been devoted to their relationship set up or even if they'd simply become a couple, the fact they were endgame wouldn't feel so random and forced)

3.) Jane (Jane's five seconds of fame was ridiculous. I can't even talk about it because there's literally nothing to say. She randomly met a guy who was played by someone more than twice Jane's age (37), and suddenly she's in the band and ready to blow off college to be famous even though Jane was never into anything like that. Then, she finds out Spinner's getting married and stops just short of talking him out of it. Somehow, we're supposed to feel good about her ending. It felt like a series of totally random, bizarre events that have no basis in any sort of logic)

Don't Look Back:

1.) Zoe/Grace (I'm not going to pretend as if I'm not biased. Their story line was literally a lesbian romcom. I loved everything about it. I don't give a fuck that Zoe had three different love interests in one season or that the writers could never keep straight how academically smart she was. All that mattered is that she ended the season with Grace and finally met her match. We saw Grace more vulnerable with Zoe than we had with anyone else up to that point. Zoe finally realized what sort of love she wanted to experience and the kind of partner she needed. Had the writers just fucking let it happen and not been all, "Well, actually, it's problematic to assume that just because you dress vaguely alternative, color your hair, and have piercings, you must be gay. We're just going to ignore the times we implied Grace was into girls because the girl crushing on her BFF's boyfriend trope has never been done before and we need it for our tone deaf plot twist," everything would have been great. I even thought Miles's role in the story line was pretty fun)

2.) Maya/Zig (This isn't Maya's best story line and pales in comparison to all of her other season 14 plots, but it's like Gracevas's story line to me. I got to watch Zig and Maya be adorable together, kissing in every other scene and taking care of kids together after waiting for them to be canon for years. So I took what I could get and just had fun with it. Other than that, Maya's continued anxiety and need to involve herself so that she's never "responsible" for someone else's misery tracks for me. I thought Maya and Gloria coming together towards the end was interesting. And obviously, Zaya's first technical endgame since TNG could have been the end of the show)

3.) Frankie (To be honest, I just didn't care about this story line. Frankie's relationship with Gloria's abusive boyfriend wasn't well developed or given enough depth for me to believe Frankie seriously fell for him that quickly and easily. I know Winston was boring and had literally just kissed one of her best friends, but mostly I blame it on the fact that Frankie has the worst taste in men. I know the writers wanted to get everyone involved in Gloria's disappearance, but I wish anyone else had gotten the spotlight)

4.) Tristan (I don't know if this counts as a plot, but Tristan's constant interruptions take me out of the movie. I know it's supposed to be intentionally overdramatic, but this wasn't the best use of the character. Sometimes I wonder if the writers were trying to make everyone hate him)

#Anonymous #Long post

[razputin-vodello-au-archive]

I have a big announcement to make, and if you follow my other blog, you might suspect what it'll be about.

After much consideration, and a lot of soul searching, I have decided to fulfill a childhood dream of mine, and I am going to ...

Write a book!

And not just any sort of book: A science fiction Novel. That's right! An actual Science Fiction Novel, birthed from my own mind. I always have loved writing and reading, and ever since I was a young child I had this dream to become a writer myself. And while fanfiction has given me a taste of what that's like, I think it's time for me to take it a step further. This has been something a recent descision of mine, but I have entertained the idea several times over the last year. I was always too afraid to pursue it ...no longer. I am taking the fucking plunge!

I am still in the early stages of this project. The concept of the novel has been hanging around my imagination for a while now, but it still need a lot of work. Lots of brainstorming, lots of research. I know this gonna take several years before I am going to finish this. But ... I think and hope I'm ready for it.

But that also means - and I'm saying this with a heavy heart and a healthy portion of reluctance - that I am not going to have much time for this blog anymore, especially if I want to see this thing through.

Am I done with this blog?

NO! Not at all! Perish the thought! I'm still gonna be running this blog, and I'll keep on writing here, but the ASK BOX might be closed for longer periods from now on. Expect long periods of silence from me.

Am I done with fanfiction?

NO! I will keep on writing fanfiction, and I will keep posting links to said fanfiction on the blog. I still have so many other stories in mind, and I'll want to share them with you guys.

I am both equally excited and terrified. I have no idea what will happen. But I'll try to keep you guys informed. And for that purpose, I have made a new blog, especially for this.

@project-terra-machina I'll post any news and developments there.

I am also considering setting up a Ko-Fi account. Maybe that'll help me in the long run.

Finally, I have something to say to each and every of my followers, new and old.

thank you!

Thank you! From the bottom of my heart. By following and supporting not only this very blog, but "The Lives and Times of Razputin Vodello" and my other stories I have posted since starting this, I've rediscovered my love for writing and creating stories.

It is because of you guys that I am willing to take this chance, and I hope for your continued support, both in my present and future endeavors.

Wish me luck.

Your friend,

Simon, The Author.

#book announcement #the author speaks #I am so grateful to you all! #I am actually getting teary eyed #indie writer #indie author #writing community #this is still so scary #razputin vodello au #psychonauts #the owl house

[wilchur]

I love planting seeds in character's minds that are bound to absolutely destroy them emotionally later on. Spoilers for my self insert fic under the cut but like I need to talk about this??

cw for period typical bigotry and attitudes towards gay people... very heavy internalised homophobia...... you know the drill, I can't write anything that's not miserable

There's a point in Jesse's story where he has an.. "encounter" with an older dude when he's in his teens (nothing below the belt tho) and he lets this slip to one of his brothers. The brother's response is basically "Jesse that's fucking unacceptable" but not as in he scolds Jesse for it just more like... is enraged by the situation itself? Because this is his baby brother and in the mind of an 19th century dude that kind of stuff puts him in danger of being turned gay, which is bad. It might come from him being a stinky catholic bigot, but in his mind he just wants to keep Jesse safe from being prayed on. He tells him as much. That these men are rotten and while he knows Jesse is not like them, that if he lets them they will force him to be.

But Jesse in his mind just goes "Uhh, I'm already like that? I've always been, no one's made me like it. I just do." and more internalises the fear of being discovered and having his only living family hate him than anything else. However the anything else comes to bite him in the ass years later when he makes a move on Arthur and Arthur freaks the fuck out. An argument follows where Arthur (obviously) insists that he's not gay stfu and says something along the lines of Jesse confusing the shit out of him and "making" him kiss him back...

Can you see where I'm going with this? :D

I am going to wreck this poor boy's self image SO BAD. He's going to HATE himself, thinking his brother was right!! It's just that it's not the older dude in the alleyway that was rotten, all this time it has been Jesse who was the disgusting predatory freak. He'll convince himself Arthur fucking hates his guts too, that he blames Jesse for making him confused and doing something he did not want to do. But Arthur is actually Very Bisexual and Very Into Him, he's just a self-conscious moron too!!! Afraid that this somehow proves every insult ever hurled at him right, giving free ammo to the demons in his head that never stop screaming how ugly, gross and not enough he is.

Oh how I love this. Causing these two poor souls endless emotional torment brings me so much joy 🥰🥰

#guess who wrote this instead of working on the actual story lmao #and who said he was working on the story to avoid doing his actual fucking job #its meee #it's the jess tag #oh the joys of fic writing

[genderqueerdykes]

Hi! I saw your post about being put on estrogen for too many androgens, and how testosterone HRT actually helped you more for the symptoms. I think I need to talk to my obgyn about how I suspect I might have PCOS but I'm a pre-T trans man and terrified they'll tell me going on estrogen/androgen blockers is my only option. I was on progesterone for a month and it was a baaaad time. Have you written more about your experience with this somewhere?

i totally get that fear, i was actually afraid of that, myself, when i was pursuing transition. i was afraid they'd tell me i was too fucked up or something or that i already had too much testosterone in my system

i haven't written about it elsewhere, but i'll take the time to write about it now! i'm going to be also starting a Wordpress site to compile my experiences, so i'll be adding this to there as well!

i was placed on estrogen for a few years (from about 15 - 21) to try to combat the high levels of androgens my body was producing due to PCOS + hyperandrogenism (and possibly other non diagnosed intersex conditions as well), they told me that was the "only way" to fix the heavy periods and other problems i was having.

i noticed during this time, my energy levels were way, way down. i was exhausted, tired, and overall falling asleep and struggling to be present and awake. i would come home from school and pass out for 5, 6, 7+ hours and wake up in the middle of the night for a bit before sleeping even more.

i was generally very irritable, prone to snapping, mood swings, and being very "on edge" in general during this time. i got into a lot of arguments with my sister and told her heated, emotional things i didn't mean because i was so worked up all the time. i had a very negative outlook and couldn't stop myself from being pissy and short and mean with people.

i noticed that i got "baby fever" during this time and became OBSESSED with thinking about having children, what i would name them, and so on. i could NOT stop thinking about having children, even though i was a child, myself, for a lot of it. i was also gaining a LOT of weight and putting on weight in areas that were making my dysphoria so, so much worse.

my periods never really became regular or normal during this time, due to me being intersex. the volume of the menses decreased to more tolerable levels, but it never made them 'regular'. i also never stopped growing facial hair, it never even reduced the volume of facial hair i was growing, which was my mother's concern. and it never changed the fact that i wanted that facial hair.

overall, it was just a waste of my time to achieve a very, very slight difference in my menstrual cycles. the only thing that has fixed my menstrual cycles and stopped them from being so heavy that i get sick is testosterone hormone replacement therapy. testosterone has been live saving for me as an intersex person and i hope you're able to communicate to your doctor that you as a trans man WANT those increased testosterone levels and for you, that's not a problem.

having naturally high T can actually be a good thing in some cases because some doctors who are aiding you in transition will see that as something pointing toward your case as a trans man. you already having a high level of testosterone can mean they can potentially prescribe a lower dose of T to you or not have to take as long to titrate up, so hopefully they will be receptive instead of pushy about you "needing" androgen blockers or estrogen.

if you face problems with this, feel free to come back, but ultimately, it shouldn't (hopefully) cause a problem. you have the right to put your foot down and say no, actually, i want higher levels of testosterone in my body and i refuse to go on hormone blockers. i wish i had refused estrogen when they put me on it. so many afab and intersex people get put on estrogen and hormonal birth control regimens and it actually causes far more problems than it helps. estrogen and birth control should not be the first "solution" to reproductive health issues.

i hope that helped you! feel free to come back and send another ask, we're always happy to help with stuff like this. nobody really tells you what to do once you get a PCOS diagnosis. you feel really lost and confused and i get that. i hope things work out for you and you can get on T down the road, if that's what you want for yourself

#asks #answers #pcos #intersex #hormones #estrogen #hrt #menstruation tw #menstruation mention #resources #my experiences

[o-wyrmlight]

So in regards to the ancients and their classes in DnD, here's my perspective--and hear me out here:

White Lily: She's the kind of lady who probably started off as one class--maybe a druid, if we're being realistic--but was secretly searching for a better way to get the knowledge that she so desperately craved. So maybe she's a druid when the journey began, a druid with good but extreme intentions, yet by the time she becomes Dark Enchantress, she is...

Dark Enchantress: ...a warlock. A warlock who made a bargain with a higher power or being to attain knowledge and power to achieve her goals. A warlock who has no regrets whatsoever in her actions. A warlock whose player is usually quiet but is having fun being the villain for once. Whose player cackles and boasts and is the perfect role for a villain. Because aren't you tired of being nice? Don't you want to go apeshit?

Pure Vanilla: Sure wants to go apeshit. He'd be a cleric, of course--one of the ones whom is devoted to healing over fighting--but that doesn't mean he isn't incapable of beating the shit out of someone else if need be. He will not hesitate to smack the enemy with his staff, or break the rules and use a goddamn knife because sometimes rules are stupid and meant to be broken. His character is a healer because no one else will be a healer, and while he pretends like he's fine with it, inside he's roiling with frustration because someone 'has' to be the healer for these idiots. Secretly, imagine how interesting it'd be if he were also lowkey a rogue. And secretly, imagine if he'd have great potential as a sorcerer, with a heavy abundance of chaotic and uncontrolled raw magic, but he's too afraid of himself to pursue that path. His magic doesn't come from dragon heritage, but... something else entirely. His hesitance to use this magic that wants to be used is often the cause of great danger. Literally the only cookie who has an inkling of what's going on is Golden Cheese.

Dark Cacao: I believe that he is a paladin, and a very loyal paladin toward his goals. He wants to protect people and he doesn't hold himself above anyone else. However, perhaps at some point he becomes affected by some sort of curse that incites Berserk Dark Cacao, so he ends up becoming some mix of paladin and barbarian.

Golden Cheese: Is an unapologetic fighter. Not afraid to get down-and-dirty, not afraid to fuck shit up, not afraid of a fight. She's incredibly confident in herself and is often the one Pure Vanilla has to heal the most. I was originally going to say that she was a barbarian, but I don't think that she'd be the kind of cookie to fly into a rage. She would of course sometimes fly into a rage, but not that kind of rage, if you know what I mean. Her subclass is probably sorcerer because imagine how funny it'd be for her to lie about her draconic heritage only for it to turn out to be true. Once she finds out being a draconic sorcerer gives her wings at a certain level, she fully commits to sorcery up until that point, just so she can get the cool, badass wings. She never dismisses them because she's too damn proud of herself to do so in spite of how much they tend to get in the way. You have to admire her commitment.

Hollyberry: Is probably the only cookie who has one role and sticks with it, because goddamn it, she is definitely a paladin much like Dark Cacao. However, unlike Dark Cacao, she was shamed by her failures and as such abandoned her paladin oaths before eventually coming back and re-establishing herself stronger than ever. While Dark Cacao is more offensively minded, she's much more defensive. She desperately tries to ignore that period in her life where she abandoned her oaths, and the campaign starts shortly after she convinces herself to pick them back up again.

The way that I'm imagining this is that the Ancients are all playing self-insert DnD together and having a ball of it, by the way. Just for context. I'm not going into the races because I don't particularly know enough about the races to come to any conclusions. Just assume that they're all humans, I guess, lol.

Also, I think it'd be hilarious if it turns out that White Lily is the Dungeon Master. Just putting that out there. She really pulled the rug from under the others' feet with the White Lily turns into Dark Enchantress reveal lol.

#pure vanilla cookie #white lily cookie #dark enchantress cookie #dark cacao cookie #hollyberry cookie #golden cheese cookie

[xentaurvs]

heres to getting stronger in 2023

My Love,

I'm writing this because I don't know how to tell you and because I'm afraid of the reaction you will give me or of what you might think towards me.

This is 2.27 a.m., the 4th of January, 2023. You cross my mind, come to my dream; I can't sleep and feel emotional. As this is the first day of my period, this is a common yet drained feeling that I have always experienced in my whole life. At this moment, I started feeling deeply, and I feel you. I choose to embrace the Love and let it run through me. The tears come down, combined with the warmth. I take a deep breath and stop for a moment, realizing that I love you that deeply.

Happy New Year, my darling.

I want to say that I am so sorry that you met me. I am an emotionally stubborn psychopath with that bad temper and attitude that always cries and annoys you. I don't know why I have to feel and experience such a fluctuating emotion that significantly changes, and it just always gets worse when it comes to my period. I know I am an adult, and it is my full responsibility to manage my emotions, but sometimes I find it hard to address them adequately; yesterday, I was so angry, then I was sad, and now I just cannot stop crying. I am not going to use this woman's symptom as a reason for you to compromise my unpleasant behaviour. But I always put effort to get better and I want you to know that I have a whole lot of Love for you, and no matter what happens, I do love you.

I know you might have heavy things to carry on your shoulder, to think about quietly; you might be in a war you need to fight for. And I am afraid that my existence would just mess it up. I never meant to do bad things to you. But I can't resist saying that I am hard to understand. Yes, I blocked you that day. Not gonna lie; at that time, I was disappointed by your answer – related to our closest-best-friend marriage. But actually, I was triggered by the idea that 'if you don't want to communicate, then just don't. see you next year', and just a split second later, I was like, 'okay, I don't want to talk to you' and I distanced myself so I would not make the situation worse due to my uncontrolled emotions, and I blocked you. I was feeding my ego, which led me to ask myself, "what the fuck are you doing, idiot?' I started crying and missing you. Furthermore, I fully understand that you’ve got enough, and you might cant handle more.

I thought that no one would ever compromise my impulsive action. That I do not deserve every one. That no one would ever make it to have a partner like me. I am just like an exploded boom, and tbh I don't want people to understand that. Neither do you. But if I have to ask, I just want to be accompanied; throughout my journey, I promise to improve and work things out. Please appreciate the way I bloom. I have some coping mechanisms, but processing them takes time. I know you might feel exhausted, tired, or give up on me. I am so sorry... I don't know what I'm trying to say, but I hope you see the point that I'm willing to tell you about.

The reality is, none of us is easy to be with. Particularly, my own self with all of these chaotic things about me. Once again, I am so sorry for making you experience this uncomfortable and irritating situation over and over again. I am sorry you have to love me with all of this inconvenience.  I will make it out of this. I promise you I will. I am still getting used to it and finding our best harmony to grow together in the rhythm.  

Now it is 3.14 a.m., and I'm still crying; you know I'm bad at texting, sometimes I don't know what to say, and I don't know what to do. Writing it down is the best way. Please do not reply; I'm so afraid you might be angry or leave me because I always frustrate you. I am so sorry that I am making you feel that way. Please promise me that you will never forget this thing:

I love you,

and

No matter the situation, I never give up on you

I choose you, choose to walk the path of life together

But if life becomes too hard for you as my partner,

I have no right to make you stay

I will give you this letter this morning, and please do not give any reply or reaction; just please come here soon. I don't know, and I am not ready for the conversation you will bring to the table by text because I don't know what to say just please come here soon…

I miss you, my whole world.

As this is a new start of the year, I ask for an apology and wish the best for both of us.

Anyway, lets rock this fucking year!

tons of love and tears,

Larasati S

[bigbadripley]

Chapter 21 - Coughing Up Smoke

Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley x Female!OC

Summary: Marc never expected to see his childhood friend Simone ever again. To Simone, Marc may as well have been dead. However, when Simone met Steven 15 years after Marc disappeared, she couldn’t help but notice how familiar he was.

18+ | 3.6k Words | Third-person omniscient | Darkfic/Fluff? | AU/AT |

Warnings: Heavy language, OC with religious trauma, childhood trauma, sexual trauma, the effects of this in adulthood, smut mention, death mention, missing persons, maybe some typos, marc cries awe, smoking, kidnapping, torture, violence.

Tagging for the loves: @ahookedheroespureheart

A/N: I update warnings with each chapter. Only proceed if you can handle the themes included in the warnings. I wrote this entirely as a trauma dump.

Minors DNI, DL;DR, if I miss a warning, please let me know.

Chapter list 

"Woke up from my dreams and I don't see you next to me I held you next to me Lately the absence vexin' me Testin' the waters with you My feelings' ain't been corrected I'm lost Wanderin' down your street, I'm like a dog without a leash Fuck" -"Coughing Up Smoke" by 99 Neighbors

"Hey, Tracy. I wanted to get a hold of you and let you know that I'm stepping away for a bit. I have all your files to send to whoever you want to speak to in my absence. I recommend Dr. Dooley from my office, though. Let me know what you plan to do. I apologize for the inconvenience." Simone said into her phone. 

"If you want to replay this message, press 1 or hang up if you are finished." The electronic voice on the other end said. It was only the second voicemail box Simone's gotten since deciding to make these calls this morning, but she did well in sticking to the script with even the patients she spoke to directly. 

It hurt to speak to them. They all had questions Simone couldn't answer, and some even cried. She wished she could explain everything, tell them she had to cut her association with them for their own good, but there was nothing she could say to make it right. She knew it was for the best until they found and put Walton back behind bars. 

As for her own safety, she was convinced it was only a matter of time before Walton made himself known to her. The night before, when she got back from Marc and Steven's place, she practically ran from her car into the door of the building. She was afraid but knew she could handle herself if she was prepared. 

Meanwhile, Marc and Steven rushed to get to Simone's to speak to her. They were surprised she wasn't at her office, being a work day, and threw fifteen minutes in the wrong direction because of it. 

After Moni stormed out the night before, Steven went off on Marc. He spent the whole night thinking about it and realized what he needed to do, making him want to kickstart a recovery period for their relationship. There was so much he wanted to do with her in his life. They planned to go into the same retirement home and play bingo, and Marc would be damned if they didn't hold onto that idea. 

Simone was writing a note on lined paper when they showed up. There was no knock, warning, or indication that it was them, and she nearly jumped out of her skin and screamed at them for doing that, especially when she was on high alert. She also silently scolded herself for not locking the door.

We're all idiots here, apparently. 

Marc didn't even think about it, stomping until he was just a foot away from her like a man on a mission. "I fucked up. I'm a fuck up. I know this, and I'm sorry." He started. Simone was baffled by what she heard and how it wasn't in an English accent this time. She sat at the dining table with the paper under her hand as he continued to ramble. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I'm sorry I'm messed up. I'm sorry I hurt you..." 

"Marc..." Simone spoke up and stood, trying to get him to relax. Marc was having an apparent breakdown right before her, and as soon as he said that first apology, they wouldn't stop coming. Tears built up in his eyes as he ignored her. 

"I'm not sure if I like the person I am without you with me, and I know that's fucked up to say, and I'm sorry that we've been so shitty to each other..."

"Marc?" She repeated, this time a bit louder and in the form of a question. He just kept pacing. 

"I'm scared to lose you completely, Moni. I know you hate that I keep calling you that, and I'm sorry, and I know it's shitty of me to just show up like this and throw all of this at you, but I lo-" 

"Marc!" She finally shouted over him, throwing her hands onto his shoulders to get him to stop. He stood still and stared at her with wide, watery brown eyes, unsure what else he could say besides what he repeated. 

He found himself with only apologies and proclamations of love to say but started weeping like Simone hadn't seen since they were kids. He began to buckle down on his knees and lower to the floor, and she followed, drawing him into her chest as her own tears crept through her ducts.

It broke her heart. She finally got the apology she wanted and more, but she didn't expect this. In Marc's shudders and hitches, she heard him continue to groan apologies that would sound like nonsense if he wasn't so close. 

"Honey, please. It's okay." She repeated, rubbing circles into his back with one hand and stroking his head with the other. 

Once the floodgates opened, they were damn hard to stop. Marc typically checked out before he could cry, but he knew he needed to get this out there with Moni. He slowly settled down to the sound of her voice and the thumping of her heart against his ear. 

Simone wasn't sure if this was the right time to bring up what was happening but couldn't chance not saying something if she didn't get the opportunity. "I think I'm in trouble." She said. Marc slowly pulled away from her embrace and looked at her, not sure what kind of trouble yet but not liking the sound of it. Once she explained everything with Walton and the disappearing patients, she helped him to his feet. 

"If anything happens to me, you do everything this note says. To the letter." She said, grabbing the note she wrote and handing it to him.

Marc was caught off guard, now knowing the situation but wondering why she assumed anything would happen to her. "Nothing's gonna happen to you, Moni. I don't need this." He said with a still, shakey voice, refusing to even look at the words it contained. She could tell him whatever she wrote down herself.

"I don't care what you think. This is real shit, and if something happens to me, Marc, Steven, you need to do this. I need to hear you say you will." Simone snapped. Her eyes looked grim like she had a bad feeling. Marc rejected accepting that possibility but knew she needed to hear it. 

"I understand," Marc confirmed. 

"Yeah, love. We'll do it." Steven also confirmed. "But we aren't leaving your side."

The whole day was an internal struggle for Simone. She went from going about her everyday life without Marc and Steven around all the time to them following her throughout each square inch of her apartment like Walton could be holed up in one of her cupboards, ready to grab her at any moment.

She feared bringing up the unleashed apology from earlier, knowing that it might cause trouble if she did. She also knew Marc wouldn't speak of it again unless she did first. Marc hadn't bargained for having an entire episode in the middle of her galley and was slightly embarrassed having that it happened. 

Now Simone's locked away with them, driving herself nuts in the silence between them as they both thought of the elephant in the room. She sat on the couch, they sat in Joyce's chair, and "Narcos" played on the TV as if they were paying any attention to it. She felt both comforted by their presence and uncomfortable all at once. 

"I'm getting to air." She announced, pulling herself to her feet. By that, she meant stepping out for a few cigarette drags. Marc paused the show as she put on her slip-on shoes. She wanted to protest his tagging along, wanted to tell him there was still plenty of daylight and she would only be right outside, but she knew what he would say. 

You think any of that'll stop Walton?

No, probably not. She answered in her head. 

They took the lift down and continued to stand silently, with the only sound being the machine whirling of the old rickety elevator. Marc had his thumbs tucked into his pockets, and Simone was rocking back and forth on her heels. He thought this would all go down differently and couldn't stop the shame of the apology bomb from creeping in. 

The elevator dinged to a stop, and the metal doors slid open to the hallway, where Simone started walking briskly across the treated concrete floor, and he followed at arm's length. She pushed open the heavy breezeway door and stopped far enough away from it to not feel bad for lighting the smoke she had brought out with her. 

It was her first one of the day, which made her feel good even if she felt Marc's eyes burning a hole in the side of her head. The fresh air did no good. Seemingly everywhere they went, the atmosphere felt heavy in her nostrils. She went in for a long, smokey inhale that comforted her momentarily before she released it. 

"I only have one left after this one. It'll be my last, I swear." She said, out of the blue and with a slight chuckle. Being outside made her feel like she could speak freely, though she felt dopey for that being her first comment. 

"How many times have you said that since picking it back up again?" Marc asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the stone wall behind them. Simone knew he had a point but didn't answer until she stepped forward and sat on the curb of the sidewalk they stood on. She immediately regretted this as the bumpy surface dug into the bit of buttock that her shorts left exposed, still sore from the night before.

"Too many." She replied with a slight sing-song tone. Now she felt his eyes burning holes in the back of her black shirt. This and the morning's apology and catch-up on her situation were the most they'd said to each other that didn't result in a fight or rough sex. Simone didn't think she had it in her to do either of those things today. 

Marc observed from behind as trails of smoke lingered away from her and into the gray-blue sky. All he wanted was to hold her, talk to her, and for her to talk back. He pictured sitting on the curb with her like when they waited for the school bus as kids and absentmindedly found himself on the pavement beside her. Simone stiffened at this, feeling like her body might unconsciously float closer to him like a magnet.

"If I ask you something, will you answer honestly?" Marc finally spoke up. Moni still refused to look directly at him but nodded the go-ahead. "Do you want me here right now?" He asked with slight hesitation. 

Yes! Simone thought to herself. Even if it's awkward, I want you to stay.

"I feel like no matter what my answer is, it won't affect your being here." She answered outwardly. A slight grin formed over his lips,

"It wouldn't, but I know you probably didn't plan on seeing us today. Not after-"

"Did you read the note?" Simone promptly cut him off, not allowing him to bring up the night before any further. She said her piece about the subject and accepted his apology. What they needed was to discuss what lay ahead. 

"No, and I'm not gonna read it because nothing will happen to you." He told her, fully believing it. Simone wasn't so sure.

"Just a bad feeling, is all." She spoke softer now, staring blankly at the cigarette as it burned to the butt. She didn't want it anymore but found ease in holding it. 

I miss you. She thought to herself. She couldn't bring the words to fall from her tongue. I miss you. I'm tired of being mad at you. 

Simone let the butt fall from her fingers and climbed to her feet, brushing pebbles and dust from her bare legs and buttocks before turning to find Marc also standing. They nearly bumped chests as she hadn't expected him to be there so quickly. Her eyes locked onto his briefly, and though it was too fleeting to call, it was long enough to cause the thought of kissing him to float through her mind. 

The fact that she felt like she couldn't or shouldn't kiss him caused the corners of her mouth to turn down as she brushed past him and through the metal doors again. An image clicked in her mind that told her there was nothing against him kissing her. It would be up to him. 

Marc pursued behind her as they got back into the elevator as quietly as before, brain scattered by thoughts of the pure electricity he felt when they looked at each other a beat before. There was an understanding there. There was no bitterness, lust, or anything that would lead them down the same path as usual, and for the first time since his bravery that morning, he wanted to overstep. 

The lift creaked and bellowed around them, and before Simone could spare a second thought, Marc had her turned around to him, and his lips folded into hers perfectly. It was a slow, soothing kiss where their noses brushed together. The kind of kiss you can feel them smile into. The type of kiss that said-

I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry.

It filled Simone with indescribable warmth and oxygen she felt she wasn't getting before. His hands caressed her back and pulled her closer as her arms wrapped around his neck. She was content, and the warmth grew as she sensed Marc relax his body into hers. 

"I'm not going anywhere. No more running away." Marc whispered through her lips. The promise vibrated on her tongue, and she knew he was being serious. It was everything she needed to hear from him, and it tasted like fresh honey. 

The moment was interrupted by the ding of the elevator stopping, and they let the tender affection linger between them as they slowly drew themselves away, admiring the glimmer that sat in their eyes. They stepped out of the metal box hand-in-hand and returned to Simone's apartment.

Not much else was said for the rest of the night before they curled up into bed together. They drifted off in each other's arms but didn't stay that way as Simone woke up at 3 AM on her stomach with Marc's bare back to her. She awoke to the thought of her missing patients again and, in turn, needed a dart. 

She grabbed her last smoke, lighter, and a pocket-sized cattle hot shot she kept and slipped her slip-on shoes back on before leaving the building. The air was significantly colder than earlier, making her wish she had covered her legs and put on a coat.

The night was mostly quiet as a few cars cruised by, and the light of the single lamppost on the other end of the parking lot illuminated her vision. Even though she knew she shouldn't have come out alone, she felt oddly safe. 

A thick plume of smoke floated from her lips, and her gaze focused on it as it disbursed before her. She swore it to be her last cigarette, so she would savor it. 

Without warning, the lampost ahead disappeared. Simone's eyesight filled with black, and the smoke smell trapped around her as heat covered her head and neck and arms tightly wrapped around her, forcing her elbows to her body. 

"The fuck!" She yelled as her feet no longer touched the ground. She began kicking and screaming, but there was no use. A loud thunk registered in her ears, and her screaming and moving ceased as her body fell limp. Her last thought was of how much of an idiot she was for coming outside and keeping her back exposed. 

Once Simone awoke, it took longer than usual to fully open her eyes and register her surroundings. It was utterly dark, nearly too dark for her sight to fully adjust. Humid and dank, the air smelled rotten and skunky. It was entirely too quiet for her to get a reading on where she was. 

Her head pounded, and the right side of her face felt moist down to her jaw. There was no movement in her limbs as she attempted to wiggle, realizing she was duct taped to a chair with several layers wrapped around her torso and ankles, yanking stray arm hairs as she moved.

She was nearly too petrified to scream, but by god, she let one rip that made her feel like she collapsed a lung and busted a vessel in her eye before a shadow emerged, landing a sharp smack across her left cheek. Her head relaxed to the side in response to the burning. 

"You must be quiet, doctor." The English accent pierced her ears before forcing her head forward again and placing a thick piece of duct tape over her lips. It was Walton. She knew that voice anywhere. Hot tears began streaming down her cheeks as she remembered what he did to his victims before he was locked up and realized she would no doubt meet the same fate. 

A filthy thumb came up to the right side of Simone's face and glided under her eyelid, catching the tears before they could roll down, and Simone jerked her head away at the feeling of the finger coming near her eyeball. 

Don't touch my fucking eyes! She thought and screamed through the tape over her mouth the best she could. It was fully muffled, pulling the peachfuzz on her lips every time she tried to move them. The more she heard the muted feedback, the more afraid she got. She began shaking and wiggling without thinking, feeling the chair shift under her and the tape around her arms tug and yank. It was no use. 

"You're getting rather annoying," Walton said. "Settle down." 

Simone didn't calm as her body flooded into full-blown panic. She knew she wasn't getting anywhere, but she could help it. 

Walton had no choice but to subdue her, which he did with a vicious punch as he did the first time, knocking her out cold.

"I'll be back later, doctor."

Marc didn't expect Moni to be out of bed when he woke up. He also didn't expect her to not be anywhere in the apartment, so he checked outside where she would smoke. She wasn't there either, and her BMW was still locked in her parking spot. 

Neither Marc nor Steven took this seriously at first, thinking it was a prank or maybe she went for a walk. They didn't want to believe she had been snatched up on their watch, but when they realized her purse and cell phone were still in the apartment, it was clear: 

Walton got her, and the empty cigarette pack told them how he did it.

Fuck, Moni, why'd you leave without waking us up? 

They sat staring at the folded note containing her instructions for if anything happened to her like it was cursed. They didn't want to read it for fear of it solidifying her disappearance in stone. 

"We promised, Marc." Steven spoke up, taking control and beginning to unfold the paper. Marc stopped him abruptly. 

"No. We can't. We have to find her."

"We will, but we should see if this gives us any ideas. We promised!" Steven argued. 

It felt like someone stuck a meat hook into Marc's heart and dragged it across the pavement. The pain was continuous and immense. He wanted to retreat but knew he couldn't. 

I have to figure this out. I have to find her. 

Cautiously, he watched Steven open the note and read it quietly. 

Boys:

I have a feeling something will happen to me, and if something does, please do as follows. 

Marc: the recording from our hypnosis session is on my phone. Listen to it as if I were there, focus, and try to talk to Jake that way. He has an information network and will likely be able to find Walton and, in turn, find me. DO NOT engage. He's dangerous. Get a lead, call the cops.

Steven: You may not want to hear this, but I could be dead right now. It's a possibility. You can mourn later. This isn't a final will and testament, but I withdrew every cent in my name and stuck it in a duffle bag in my closet. Use it, invest it, donate it, whatever. It's yours; don't give it back if I'm alive. 

Jake: Don't be so stubborn. They will need you more than you realize; the unfortunate cost will be their acceptance of Khonshu if you won't drop the bird. You can figure that out later. Right now, the only option is integrating and getting this bastard off the street before he hurts anyone else. Every file I have on Walton is in my trunk (don't tell anyone). Again, DO NOT engage.

If I'm found alive, and you ignore these instructions: I'm coming back swinging. At your face. 

If I'm dead: FOLLOW THESE INSTRUCTIONS! And find my mom. Tell her I turned out alright. Lie if you have to. 

I love you, boys. Please be careful. 

-Simone, aka Moni.

Their eyes scanned the instances she tried to write in all capital letters to get the point across and how they still looked pretty and curly like the rest of the words. 

I'll follow your instructions, Moni, but I can't promise I won't kill the fucker when we find him.

#moon knight fanfic #moon knight fan fic #moon knight #marvel one shot #marvel mcu #marvel fanfic #marvel #mcu fic #mcu fanfiction #mcu #fan fic #fan fiction #fanfic #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #darkfic #tw: kidnapping #tw: violence #tw: torture

[bigqueervillain]

TW: Miscarriage, grief

So I had a miscarriage at 5 weeks on Friday. It's ongoing. I feel like a giant, sad sack of blood.

I've had a miscarriage once before when I was pretty deep in addiction and very mentally unwell. Back then though I didn't even know that I was pregnant, and I wasn't trying to get pregnant. So I counted it as a blessing. This time the circumstances couldn't be more different.

I really wanted this pregnancy, this baby. Rachael and I both did. I'm sure that most of it was hormone driven, but even so I was so excited and so happy and so ready. I had Christmas announcements to our families all planned out because I'm a control freak. I was anticipating so much joy coming our way. And instead we got this.

When I called the midwife on Friday, she was very sweet and kind and gentle. But it was just so hard to hear my fears confirmed. "Is this your first baby? Oh you must have been so excited. It's really just a late period at this stage though, so unless you start to feel sick it should pass okay" keeps ringing in my ears. It's trauma. I know it. I've had enough of it over the years that I intimately know the way it winds through and sticks in my brain. There are things that stay with you in trauma and grief, even when they'd normally be so innocuous in any other situation. The things that are said ring in your ears whether you want them to or not.

And it is passing through me. That's the fucked up gothic primal animal horror and beauty of it. When you become pregnant, the only way out is through no matter what stage you're at when it ends. I'm pro choice and I always will be, but all the viscera coming out of me had the potential to be my baby in August. And I feel like I owe that potential the duty of witnessing and grieving every bit that comes out of me. When it started, I reached into the fucking toilet to touch it and make sure. There's really no mistaking pregnancy tissue though. It's hard and looks like string with little baby grapes attached to it. Like a vine from an alien nightmare orchard.

I keep thinking of sad art that's stuck with me over the years. The fucking two headed calf; so short lived but still so cherished while it lasted. Maybe I'll get it tattooed. The Johanna reprise from Sweeney Todd; "and though I'll think of you I guess until the day I die, I think I'll miss you less and less as everyday goes by." Sondheim really knew how to get to the heart of a very specific emotion. Fucking hell.

And maybe all of this is incredibly maudlin and dramatic. I tend towards that in times of extreme emotion, which I worry makes the whole thing tedious for other people to experience along with me. And it was so early and really is just a very late, very heavy period. But this grief is mine goddammit. No one can tell me how to feel or how to navigate through it. I would have protected this kid with my life had they been born, and I feel like I have to follow through with that promise even if it'll never come to fruition.

I'm left with all this blood. My body feels like a fucking graveyard. Going to the bathroom, standing up, sneezing, coughing are all reminders, so I don't even have the courtesy of long periods of distraction from it. I feel like next time we try I won't even be able to be excited when we get a positive test, because I'll be so afraid of losing it again. We had that exciting positive pregnancy test moment already with this one, and now that memory's tainted. Next time I'm going to feel cautious and afraid, instead of happy and hopeful. I know myself enough to know that. I know I have to force myself to process my emotions and heal through this so I can enjoy pregnancy when it happens again. And it will happen again. We're not going to stop trying; Rach and I both want to be parents too much for that. But I hate this part. It's just so fucking unfair.

A close friend of mine is lowkey a very powerful medium/witch. She told me that this is all confusing because she can feel our baby working hard to come through, that they want us as parents and want to come earthside and live. And I believe her. Her partner is our sperm donor so she's attached to it in some way too. And I know that any child of mine is going to be stubborn and strong willed and unstoppable.

And then I think of my (unfortunately) Catholic upbringing and my own spirituality. I believe that creation is a god realm, even if I don't believe all the pro choice bullshit that comes along with it. So I have to believe that this loss has purpose. But I don't know what that purpose is, other than to make me afraid and sad. But then maybe there isn't any purpose in it and that's just part of the awesome swirling chaos that is life on this goddamn bitch of an earth and I have to accept that for what it is.

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, etc.

Anyway if you've read this far, thank you. I don't expect anyone to read this. It's mostly rambling nonsense. Writing has long been how I process my emotions. The best way. Sitting alone with headphone and screaming it all out on a keyboard is healthy for me. I'm just...metaphorically licking my wounds and shyly casting my hurt into the internet in the hopes that it'll swirl around and leave me for good.

#personal shits #tumblr has been a witness to so many of my joys and hurts #why should this change just because I'm 30 #anyway i'm sad #it's a rainy day here and I spent all weekend running around doing christmas things to try to escape it #and now i'm left here on sunday morning with coffee and prozac and nicotine and nothing to do but sit with it all