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#part of the unofficial trauma series
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This can be read as a sequel to "I Need You" or read as a stand alone (it will totally make sense without the prequel)
Draco found him curled up in a ball, in the corner of their office, the door warded against everyone but him. And as far as embarrassing places for Draco to find him went, well at least this wasn’t the top of the list for Harry.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Draco asked him as he folded himself down to sit cross-legged in front of Harry, their knees brushing, and the casual intimacy of that all but crushed Harry.
He shook his head, refusing to look up at meet Draco’s eyes as he plucked a string off his pants.
“Can I sit here with you?” he asked softly.
Harry nodded but couldn’t bring himself to say words back.
Draco pressed his knee against Harry’s, offering him a lifeline, anchoring him in the flood of his emotions.
After a few minutes of silence save the ticking of the clock in their office, Harry opened his mouth, “I couldn’t do it,” he whispered. “Well, I could have but-"
“Couldn’t do what, love?” Draco asked.
He swallowed, the pet name making him ache and burn with desire to allow Draco in, to trust that he actually wanted to be there with him when he was a mess. It was a desire that often remained unfulfilled because he couldn't bring himself to allow it. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth, “They wanted me to do another press circuit,” he said, lip curling with derision in spite of his best intentions to keep his emotions under wraps.
Draco hummed softly in acknowledgement.
Shaking his head, Harry pressed on, brave as he could be, letting Draco see all of the aching in his chest, “I just can’t keep doing all of the things that suck up all of my energy.” He raked his fingers through his hair before finally looking up to see Draco's eyes already on him, face open and earnest, so much gentleness that Harry wanted to claw his own chest open.
"Harry," Draco said softly, grounding him, not trying to stem the flow of emotions, just trying to help him not get swept away. He offered him a hand and Harry's fingers clenched in his.
"And I know they need it," he managed through how tight his chest felt, straining under the weight of his guilt. "I know that it helps to garner people's approval-"
"Hey," Draco said softly, squeezing Harry's hand, "You're allowed to have boundaries. You're allowed to need things too."
Harry's eyes filled with tears, they spilled over and he shoved his glasses up in his hair so he could scrub at his eyes.
"You're good," Draco murmured. "You're so good, darling," he whispered softly. "Your heart is so soft, so generous, but everyone has their limits. You can't do everything."
"Not everything," Harry agreed, shaking his head, "But I could have-"
"At what cost?" Draco interrupted. "You've already died for them, you've already given your time working to them, what are you even keeping for yourself?"
He blinked but couldn't form an answer, he just started to cry again.
"Sweetheart," Draco said, stroking his thumb over Harry's knuckles, "You can't do everything," he repeated, "but more to the point, you shouldn't have to. You get to be a whole person, with needs and desires. Who has things that he's good at and that fulfill him, and who equally has things that he's not good at and that don't bring him any fulfillment."
"Everyone has to do things they don't like," he protested.
"Sure," Draco agreed, "All of us have some things that we just have to do, but you spend more of your time doing things that you hate, things that are hard and make you feel empty, because you are so used to being asked to be the hero, to save the world. What you do is not the same."
"I don't know how to do this," he whispered like a confession.
The other man smiled softly at him, "you're doing it," he murmured. "There's not an easy way to build boundaries when you don't have the experience to, when you weren't taught and allowed to when you were young. It's just practice."
"Does it always feel like this?" he asked.
"Like what?"
He swallowed, "Like you're the worst human to ever live. Like you've been given so much that you'll never be able to repay what you've been given, so asking for more seems greedy? Like just doing it would have been hard but would have felt better than doubting who I am."
"Ah," Draco said softly. "Want to know a secret?"
Harry nodded uncertainly.
"Who you are is not what you do."
He swallowed around the tears that were suddenly threatening to choke him, tried to hold back the ugly sob and failed, letting out a gasping, shuddering sound that felt like it was ripped from the pit of his stomach.
"Can I hold you?" Draco asked, his own voice a little desperate.
Harry nodded and collapsed forward willingly as Draco shifted and pulled Harry's body against his, cradling his face in his neck and rubbing his back.
When his tears started to abate, Draco squeezed his shoulder and said, "it does get easier, love."
"You're sure?"
He nodded, "And the fulfillment you'll feel getting to exist in a world where you aren't constantly stretched to thin, constantly at the end of your rope, will be amazing," he promised.
Harry buried his nose in Draco's neck, breathing in his warm scent. "Sorry," he whispered after a moment.
"What for?" Draco asked, like he was being ridiculous.
Pulling back, he tried to look Draco in the eye, then dropped his gaze to his chin when that was too hard. "I feel like you only get all of the worst bits of me. I'm such a mess right now, I feel like this wasn't what you were imagining. And you say you love me but I can't," he shook his head and changed tracks, "and I do love you, you know I do, but I'm not ready to be in an actual relationship-"
"Harry, I like getting the worst bits because it means I get all the bits and it's fine, I'm not in a rush-" he interrupted.
"-and I'm so afraid."
"Afraid of what?"
"That by the time I'm actually ready for more than just spending time with you, eating dinner, watching movies, occasional kissing on the sofa when I haven't fallen straight to sleep, that you will have realized I'm not worth it," he rushed out. "Afraid that you'll feel the way that I feel about me."
"Oh," Draco breathed, reaching out and gently tipping Harry's chin up to look in his eyes.
But he couldn't do it, he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, another tear slipping down his cheek.
He sighed softly, "Harry, I love you. I am not in a hurry. And my love does not require any particular response from you to feel like it's fulfilled. Sitting here with you, in your grief is so," he blew out a breath. "I love you so much it takes up all of the space in my body sometimes," he confessed. "And getting to sit with you, getting to listen to you, to the real you, Harry," he squeezed his hand, "It's a declaration of love and trust unlike any other. Being allowed to see you, it tells me so much about what you feel for me. It's a really beautiful gift."
Harry huffed a disbelieving laugh, "I want to believe you," he said softly. "I do. I want to believe that I'm enough but I'm so afraid of not being enough and of you realizing it. And if I let you in and you leave-"
"Me too," Draco said softly. "I'm afraid of the same thing. Terrified of letting you in, of getting to love you and be loved by you, and then having you realize that I'm not worthy of it. Because getting to have you really deeply for a little while and not getting to keep you, feels unbearable."
"How do you bear it?" Harry whispered, looking up at Draco because of the two of them, Draco seemed to be doing a better job of letting Harry in and loving him without constant panic.
He shrugged, "because I only have control over myself and this moment," he said. "And I've had lots of experience being afraid and being a coward, and I know it feels better to be afraid but still do the thing that my heart is pushing me to do. So I love you, and I'll keep doing it as long as you let me, in all of the ways that you're able to let me."
"Can we leave?" he whispered, suddenly exhausted, longing for nothing more than a cuddle on the couch after eating takeaway straight from the containers.
Smiling at him, Draco nodded, "Come on. My house? I can order Chinese?"
Harry nodded back, a little shy, a little unsure about accepting this much love from the other man.
"I want to," he assured softly. "I want to love you, I want to be with you and take care of you. You just have to say yes."
"Yes," Harry whispered, reaching out and taking Draco's hand and tugging him closer. "Can I kiss you?" he asked softly.
Draco nodded and leaned in to press a soft lingering kiss to Harry's lips and Harry let himself relax into it, letting go of all of his fears for as long as he could, and just let himself be loved.
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m0llygunn · 10 months
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Strat and Jag (Eddie Munson x fem!reader)
Summary: an unfortunate bout of eavesdropping rocks the boat of friendship between you and eddie, and ex-sailor steve helps steer you right...
Warnings: 18+ for mature content (not too explicit yet) and eventual smut, mature language, mentions of eddie trauma (parents/alluding to drug issues). Authors note: howdy this is part 2. also i take back the prologue being a prologue, thats just part one idk what im doing. This part and the 3rd part will be the main chunk of this series, then I have bonus chapters coming after! ty! wc: 6.7k+
01/02
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The Fire of All Hells
“I can’t fucking do this anymore, holy shit. She’s killing me.”
“Killing you? I don’t think it’s that serious, man.” Gareth laughs.
“No.” Eddie says harshly. “If you heard what she was saying yesterday… holy fuck, you’d understand. She is killing me.” He groans. 
“Well, dude, you know what you could do?” Jeff replies sarcastically.
Eddie, Jeff, and Gareth were all setting up in the drama room and you figured you’d show up a little early with the cookies you made after Eddie left you yesterday. 
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While you didn’t play DnD, you were an odd sort of an ‘unofficial’ member. You and Eddie have been friends forever so it was kind of pushed into your lap when he wanted to start his little club. And since it was a group of dimwit boys, you unwarrantedly became the founding mother of the club… alongside the founding father, Eddie— who, have it be noted, has zero organizational capabilities, not an ounce of time management skills, and absolutely no faith entrusted in him by any school faculty members. And for all of those reasons, that is why you were roped into this weird little club.
Eddie practically begged for you to be the one to ask the teachers to start the group. His far from perfect rep with them would have made the teachers obviously turn him down… but you on the other hand… you're liked enough, get good enough grades, and although have been tied to Eddie in numerous ways (including physically that one time when Eddie bought industrial level handcuffs, brought them to school to show off, cuffed you and him together to demonstrate, realized he lost the keys, and then you both spend the day cuffed together until Wayne got home to saw you free), you keep out of trouble for the most part. 
After a week of Eddie groveling and a few deals set between you too, you gave in. At the time, you were in your freshman year, and Eddie was promised Wayne’s old van once he got his license, so he set the deal that he would drive you to school and home everyday (which now that you're both in your senior year, it’s a promise that he has mostly held up overtime). He also promised his eternal friendship, which was already a given so that barely sweetened the deal. It’s kind of foggy at this point, being so long ago, but you’re sure he also bought you some other shit, probably stole you some beer too, because god knows you two were fiends for any alcohol back then. 
Since you had to ask to start up the club, it was your name under the club registry so it was always the drama teacher up your ass about making sure everything was cleaned properly, put away, no food left behind because of the mice… blah blah blah. So yeah… you’re practically the sole standing reason hellfire exists at Hawkins High but you don’t like to think about that… if you think too hard about it, you can’t help but cringe internally. You don’t mind their little group but you’d rather not be known as their leader— that’s all Eddie.
You knew Eddie because his dad and your dad were friends back in high school. The only difference between the two men was when your mom got pregnant with you, your dad cleaned up his life. Eddie’s dad on the other hand was the first to get a girl pregnant out of the two of them— which coincidentally happened in the same year; however, Eddie’s dad couldn’t quite give up his lifestyle. He tried for a bit, he really did, especially after Eddie’s mom skipped town, but it was just hard for him. It didn’t help when he got an injury doing some kind of labor job either. The doctors prescribed him some heavy pain medicine and that’s kind of when everything went to shit. 
As a kid you never noticed. At 8 years old, you were oblivious to the havoc being dragged through the lives of everyone around you. You thought it was all fun and games. Eddie had come and stayed with your family for a few weeks and you thought it was the best. It was like a giant sleepover, probably the closest thing you’ve ever had to a sibling. 
Then Wayne came into the picture. He was living down south, working as a truck driver. Once his brother got his sentence, he moved up, got the trailer, got a job at the plant, and started taking care of Eddie. He was a saint in the body of a mean-looking, tough talking trucker. Not really mean though, he’s a big ole softy, he just doesn’t let most people know that. 
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You take a step further into the drama room, not purposefully trying to eavesdrop, you just didn’t mean to interrupt their conversation so abruptly.
“I can’t do that.” Eddie says flatly.
“You can dude. There’s no way she doesn’t know already. Everyone already thinks you’re together since you touch her nonstop. Seriously. You’re like, attached to her at all times.” Gareth says.
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Eddie’s always been touchy. Always. Gareth’s not wrong, he always has some part of himself connected to you, whether it’s a knee under the table or an arm around your shoulder, that’s just how he’s always been. He’s never shied away from physical touch and that’s normal for you two after all these years. He was your first hug with a boy, first hand hold with a boy, first kiss, second kiss. It’s always been innocent enough though, he’s your best friend after all, it just so happens to be that he’s a boy. Not a boy boy. Just a boy. 
At 7 years old that’s when you two had first kissed. Then again at 10.
The first time, he was making you play some stupid game where he was a knight and you were a princess and according to him, obviously the knight had to kiss the princess. The second time he wanted to ‘practice’ playing spin the bottle. It was only the two of you so you had thought it was a dumb idea but it was Summer and you had been banished from the trailer after spending the weekend blasting the TV and probably stopping Wayne from getting any rest. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Summer of 1978
Eddie had spun the bottle 27 times before it finally landed on you. 27 times. You still remember counting each failed spin, laughter getting rowdier and rowdier at your best friend's terrible luck. The 27th time, he lit up like a damn Christmas tree when the neck of the bottle finally slowed, landing point blank in your direction. You couldn’t help the laughing fit that overcame you and you had thrown yourself backwards, clenching your aching stomach, head softly hitting the dirt floor of the forest clearing you two frequented. That’s when Eddie snuck up and stole the kiss. 
You would have let him kiss you, cause that was all part of the game after all. You both had agreed on the rules before starting, but that didn’t stop your surprise when his scrawny little 11 year old body fell over yours. 
You still remember distinctly the way he had grabbed your hands to pull them away from where you were holding your stomach. He pinned them both beside your head, similar to when you’d wrestle, and he looked at you with the biggest signature Eddie Munson smirk known to man. At this point, you were stronger than him still and could have easily tossed him off but it shocked you having him so close and so quickly. It took you by surprise so much so that it knocked all the giggles from you. You just laid there, in Eddie’s hold. His smirk fell and after a moment, he dipped his face to yours, and he kissed you for the second time. 
“Gross Eddie!” You shrieked when you felt his slimy tongue harshly poking past your lower lip and into your mouth. He started to get up off you but you were embarrassed, so you pushed him making him land harshly on his butt. 
“It’s called a French kiss.” Eddie stated matter of factly, face scrunched, hands rubbing over his lower back that stung from the impact of his landing. 
“It’s disgusting and you smell like cheezies.” You say pushing yourself up from the ground and wiping his spit off your mouth. 
“It’s practice.” He huffed. “And you taste like cheezies. It’s not just me.”
“I do not!” You shrieked before hauling yourself up into a standing position ready to stomp away from him. You were already embarrassed by Eddie shocking you into silence, then him telling you that you tasted like cheezies… even at 10 years old you knew that’s not what a boy would want to taste during a kiss. 
“We ate cheezies, Strat.” Eddie said, rolling his eyes at you. 
‘Strat’ was a nickname that your dad started. He was the guitar guy, and spent a lot of time teaching you and Eddie about music since you were toddlers. Once you got old enough to actually hold a guitar, he had two that he’d let you both mess around with; a Fender Stratocaster and a Fender Jaguar. The strat was a pretty baby blue colour that you adored, so naturally, you always called dibs on it, and Eddie got the red Jag. Your dad would call you both ‘Strat’ and ‘Jag’ and unfortunately the nickname stuck for you and you only— probably because you would whine and cry about the strat if Eddie tried to steal it from you. 
At the roll of Eddie's eyes, that really set you off. You turned, stomping your feet back to the trailer park.
“Hey, I like cheezies, Strat! Don’t go!” Eddie called after you. “We’re not done playing, you still have to spin!”
“I’m telling Wayne!” You screamed, running faster to the trailer once you heard Eddie’s clumsy steps behind you. 
“No! Please, don’t!” He yelled back pleadingly, making you smile to yourself revengefully. You heard his steps quicken behind you so you sprinted, making it to the door of the trailer in record speed. 
You threw open the door, startling Wayne who was sat on the couch, and just as you were about to speak you felt Eddie’s hand clamp around your mouth from behind. 
“Edward Munson. You take your hands off that girl.” Wayne warned sternly. 
“B-but-”, Eddie began before you interrupted him by elbowing him in the stomach.
“Yeah. Hands off.” You said turning to face Eddie as he held onto his stomach. You smirked at him and he sent you pleading eyes not to tell. You weren’t going to. That never was your plan, you just wanted to see him squirm as payback for him embarrassing you. 
“Ohhhhh Wayne.” You sang. Eddie’s eyes widening, his features turning increasingly pleading for you not to tell on him. 
“What in god's name happened to you, you’re covered in dirt, missy.” Wayne said ignoring you. He stood from the couch, making his way over to you before his hands were patting at your back trying to get the dirt off. Your face fell and you couldn’t think of a response. 
“She-she… we were playing a game and-” Eddie’s pleading look stopped and his gaze dropped to the floor. You could tell he was about to rat himself out. This boy couldn’t keep one secret from Wayne…
“I fell and Eddie helped me up.” You interject. Eddie’s gaze locked into yours, eyes wide before relaxing, sending you a small smile when he realized what you were doing. 
“Her mom’s gonna kill us both, boy. You better go find her some clothes so I can throw these ones in the wash.” Wayne huffed.
Eddie ran into the trailer to his room.
“Clean clothes too, boy! Don’t give her dirty stuff!” Wayne yelled when Eddie was taking too long. 
“I know Wayne.” Eddie yelled back, voice full of attitude. 
After a few moments, he emerged, with his favourite Black Sabbath shirt that your dad bought for him for his birthday last year and a pair of plaid pajama bottoms. 
“Go change, missy.” Wayne gruffed, patting you on the back. 
Back in Eddie’s room you both sat on his floor reading his comics.
“You look pretty in that shirt.” Eddie said, interrupting the silence.
“Shut up Edward. I still don’t forgive you for trying to french kiss me.” You say, cheeks turning hot in anger, prompting you to pick up the closest discarded piece of clothing from his messy floor to throw at him. 
“I'm sorry! It was just for practice.” Eddie groaned dramatically. 
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Before you both reached puberty it was all hugs, holding hands, sharing seats, sharing beds, just being innocently close to each other. After puberty his touchness did simmer a bit. Albeit not much though. Eddie still barely knows what personal space is, but he’s not grabbing at your hand every second like he did when you were kids. 
“I don’t always touch her! Besides, it’s always been like that since we were kids, it’s normal.” Eddie says, focusing his attention on setting up.
“There’s nothing normal about the way you act around her.” Gareth says with a laugh. 
“Yeah. You love her.” Jeff teases. 
“And that’s the fucking problem. Thanks for really rubbing it in guys.” Eddie says exasperatedly, throwing his bag of dice onto the table carelessly. 
“Just ask her out.” Jeff says, patting Eddie on the back as he slouches down onto the table.
“Oh great idea! Strat, I fucking love you. Please, go out on a date with me and potentionally fuck up our lifelong friendship. Great idea guys. Thank you so much.” Eddie says sarcastically. 
During Eddie’s spiel he had picked up his bag of dice again. Finishing his scornful remark, he had thrown it down on the table, this time the dice falling out and skidding across the floor, most of them landing at your feet. 
All three boys turn at once, moving to pick up the dice before they spotted you. 
“Shit.” Gareth says, filling the silence of the room. 
You look at Eddie and he’s gone pale, his whole face null of expression. 
“I- Hey.” You stutter, clearing your throat. “I was just gonna drop these off.” You continue, stepping forward to place the container of cookies on the table. 
“Hey Strat.” Jeff says nervously, being the first to snap out of his surprise. “You gonna stay today?” He asks. 
“No, no… gotta help my mom with.. something.” You lie. You were gonna stay. You told the little twerps you’d stay today, but you really have to go now. 
“I swore you told Dustin at lunch that you’d stay?” Gareth says, eyes narrowing in on you. 
“No, I-”
“Hey guys! What’s up?” Grant greets excitedly as he enters the drama room.
“Hey Grant.” You smile before taking steps towards the door.
“Strat? You’re going?” He questions, brows furrowing at you. “Dustin said you were staying and that you had something for us?”
“No, I have to go. Bye guys.” You say, turning quickly before exiting the room.
“What’s up with her?” You hear Grant say to the guys from the hall. 
“Strat! Where you going?” Lucas calls from the other end of the hall. You turn briefly, still walking backwards towards the school exit. 
“Gotta go home! I left cookies for you guys in there.” You say, putting on your best cheery voice before turning and walking as fast as you can out of the school. 
Shit. Eddie was right. He can’t just ask you out. That would be ruining a lifelong friendship. He can’t do that. He can’t like you. You guys are best friends. He can’t do that to you. 
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At home you flop yourself on your bed. What the fuck are you gonna do?
Nothing. 
You’re going to do nothing. 
You’re going to pretend you didn’t hear that. Eddie doesn’t like you. He doesn’t love you. He’s not ruining your friendship— you won’t let him.
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You spend the weekend convincing yourself you made up the entire conversation you overheard. Eddie called 6 times since Friday evening, but you needed the time to erase whatever you overheard in the drama room from your memory. 
You spend Sunday evening contemplating if you should even take the ride from Eddie in the morning. He barely shows up Monday mornings so, who knows, maybe you’ll get lucky and won’t have to see him anyways.
You were wrong though. You decided to start your walk, and halfway there, you heard the familiar rumbling of his van approaching before slowing at your side. 
The van halts and you look over to see a fairly normal looking Eddie smiling at you. You try to muster a smile but you know it must look weird because he retracts into himself before motioning for you to get in. 
You stop, contemplating if it’s a good idea before you hear a car coming up the road that makes the decision for you. You quickly hop into the van, buckling yourself in as Eddie starts driving before the car behind him has time to honk. 
“Hey.” Eddie says.
“Hey.” You reply.
For a moment all that’s heard is the rumbling of the van engine. 
“Haven’t heard from you in a while.” He says cautiously.
“Yeah. Sorry. Was busy.” You lie. You spent the whole weekend in bed doing fuck all but thinking about the situation at large. 
“Busy?” Eddie asks. He knew you weren’t busy. You told him a few days that you had no plans. You were supposed to go over to his, but obviously that didn’t happen. 
“Yeah. Busy. My mom needed help with something.” You say, sticking with the same lie from Friday.
“Something?” He questions. Without looking at him, you can tell he's smiling.
“You’re just full of questions, aren’t you?” You say flatly, copying his same avoidant statement from Thursday night when he claimed to be helping Wayne with ‘something’. He huffs a breath out of his nose in what sounds like amusement, but you don’t think this is funny.
You don’t say more and neither does he for the rest of the ride. When you pull into the lot, you both get out before walking into the school. It’s mostly normal, except for the fact that it’s dead silent between the two of you. You don’t think it’s ever been this quiet between you.
When you see Robin, you use her as your escape.
“Robin!” You call. She turns to you and you wave at her. You start walking towards her and out of your periphery, you can see Eddie still trailing beside you. 
“Bye Eddie.” You say, stopping to turn toward him. You can’t look at him though, not in the eyes. You haven’t yet, apart from through the window of the van. 
“Bye Strat.” He says quietly.
You quickly push your way through the halls, leaving Eddie behind until you get to Robin.
“What was that?” She asks as soon as you’re close enough to hear her.
“What was what?” You question.
“What did you say to him, he looked like he was gonna cry?” Robin says furrowing her eyebrows at you.
“I just said bye?” You say.
“Just bye?” She says skeptically. You nod your head at her.
She grabs a book out of her locker, eyes still on you, clearly not believing you. 
“Steve said that those little twerps said something happened.” She says flatly. 
“Like what?” You ask hoping she has some drama that’ll take your mind off of all this.
“Something with you and Eddie.”
“Why’d they say that?” You roll your eyes.
“Cause something did happen?” She says, waiting for you to fill her in but you don’t. 
She stares at you, waiting for you to spill but truly, there’s nothing to spill. You let your eyes roam the hall, feeling awkward under her scrutinizing look before the slamming of her locker startles you. 
“You heard them talking didn’t you?” She asks.
“Heard who?” You ask and you physically feel Robin's annoyance rising. 
“Strat. Stop playing dumb.” She scolds.
“Robin. I’m not playing dumb.” You reply, sticking to your guns. It didn’t happen. You didn’t hear anything. Nothing happened. 
“Strat-” Robin starts, getting interrupted by the first bell. 
“Gotta go Robs! Good talk.” You say before bolting to home room.
You usually sit next to Eddie, but it’s fine. Nothing happened, right? Don’t need to be weird around him, right?
You cross the class to your seat at the back of the room, the spot next to you still empty. Little by little the class fills and by the time the second bell goes, you’re still left sitting alone at the back of the class. 
Halfway through the class, you’re still sitting alone. 
You try to focus on taking notes— especially now since you know you’re gonna have to teach this shit to Eddie who’s currently skipping, but you’re having a hard time focusing. 
When the teacher steps out of the class to get her forgotten worksheets from her office you lean forward in your chair, poking Jeff in the back. 
“Where is he?” You ask, when he turns.
“Seriously?” He laughs. You frown, not appreciating being laughed at right in your face. 
“Yeah. Seriously.” You reply sharply. 
“I think you know the answer to that.” Jeff says before turning forward again. 
Okay. Ouch. You always thought of Jeff as being the nicest out of the three older hellfire guys, but that was cold. 
You didn’t see Eddie for the rest of the day. Matter of fact, you didn’t see him until the next morning when he did the same thing. You had started walking and he drove up behind you, slowing, and you got in. The ride was in complete silence. Not a word or a glance. 
When you got to school, you parted ways immediately, without as much as a goodbye. Eddie didn’t show up to homeroom and Jeff didn’t look your way, not that you would have started a conversation with him after yesterday. 
You had seen Gareth and Grant walking in the hall and you waved. You know they both saw you but they kept walking, not reciprocating your wave, and it really fucking stung. 
That evening you walked home again. Alone.
The next morning, you walked the whole way to school. Alone. No Eddie in homeroom.
You were miserable. And to make matters worse, that morning, the drama teacher called you to his office over the intercom and proceeded to tear you a new one about how things were left in the drama room last Friday. You lied and said you weren’t feeling good and left things a bit of a mess, and that you were very sorry. By the end of the conversation, he was less so scolding you and more so giving you a pitiful look. Maybe you appeared as shitty as you felt, who knows, but you didn’t get detention so at least you got that win. He let you off with a warning instead but made sure to add that if it happens again this Friday, that’s it for your club.
Before lunch you set out to find the only hellfire members that you were certain would not give you the cold shoulder.
“Dustin! Mike!” You called, stopping them before they could enter the cafeteria. You really didn’t want to go in there, knowing Eddie would be there for sure. 
You jogged to catch up with them, both of them stopped right at the door. 
“Hey, do you mind doing me a favor?” You ask, trying to not seem like the shell of a person that you feel like. 
“Yeah? What’s up?” Mike replies. 
“Mr. Joels called me to his office and said if you guys leave the drama room like that again he’s gonna cancel hellfire permanently. Can you tell Eddie?”
“Can’t you tell him?” Mike says before Dustin hits him on the arm.
Dustin turns slightly, peering into the caf and your eyes follow, narrowing in on the person you’re always first to look for in a room. You feel whatever shards of a heart you have left dissolve when you see how miserable he looks too. 
“S-so can you tell him?” You stutter, trying to pull your attention away from Eddie. 
“Strat? Why didn’t you stay on Friday?” Dustin asks quietly.
“B-because.” You stutter again, feeling far too terrible to put up with any more interrogating and far too tired to keep up your lies.
“You heard him didn’t you?” He asks. Yeah. You heard him. You can’t lie to yourself anymore. You can’t pretend you didn’t. It’s not helping anyone. It’s not saving any friendship, because look at this. This isn’t preservation. 
All you can do is nod your head, eyes glued to your shoes.
“He likes you, Strat.” Dustin says. You shake your head, disagreeing. 
“He does.” Mike adds. You shake your head harder.
“No. He said he loves me.” You say, voice coming out croaky, lowering lip jetting out like you're about to cry. 
You bring the palms of your hands to your eyes, pushing until all you can see is black. You’re not about to cry in front of these freshies. You’re not. 
You hear the scuffing of their shoes on the floor before you feel a hand on your arm.
“Hey. It’s okay. Strat. Seriously, we can tell him. Don’t cry.” Dustin coos nervously, obviously not having the intent of making you teary eyed. 
“I’m not crying.” You huff, pulling your hands from your damp eyes. 
“No-yeah! You’re not crying. Don’t worry, we'll tell the guys.” Dustin says genuinely, his demeanor remaining soft yet incredibly nervous. Mike continues looking back into the caf, obviously looking for help from anybody. “So you’re not gonna sit with us?” He asks tentatively. 
You shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak. 
“Well, if you want to come back eventually, uh- we miss you.” He says. You laugh and both boys look taken aback. 
“Gareth and Grant pretended I didn’t exist when I saw them in the hall. Jeff laughed in my face when I asked about Eddie and then proceeded to give me the cold shoulder. They don’t miss me, trust me.” You say, exhaling deeply before standing up straighter, ready to end this conversation.
“We do miss you! Seriously.” Mike adds, looking nervous like it might not be the right thing to say. 
“Thanks guys.” You say, accepting their sentiments. “Tell Lucas I said hey and sorry for running off on him on Friday. And sorry to you guys too, I did say I was going to stay and then I didn’t.” You add before turning on your heels, heading off to the library without waiting for their reply. 
That evening, instead of moping in your room again, you decided to walk to family video. Making matters worse, your dad bought a new distortion pedal for his guitar and he’s been bugging you about getting Eddie to come over to check it out since Sunday. You're clean out of excuses and can’t handle him asking you again tonight, so getting out of the house seems like your best option. Robin usually doesn’t work Wednesday, which leaves Steve closing by himself. You’re not mad at Robin, you just can’t handle the interrogation.
Steve wouldn’t push you for answers like Robin would. He wouldn’t give you the cold shoulder like the other guys. He wouldn’t be the first person you’d hang out with, that of course would be Eddie but… yeah. Steve is a good friend though.
As soon as you walk into the video store you hear Steve calling your name from the register. 
“Hey! Long time no see!” He says happily.
“Yeah. How are you!” You ask, trying to return his chipper attitude but it comes out meek.
“Eh, living the dream.” He says, smiling. He rounds the counter, leaning against it, beside where you’re standing. “And what about you?” He asks, quirking a brow. 
“I’ve been better.” You say honestly. “Mind if I chill with you for a bit?” You ask, looking around the empty store.
“Not at all, in fact, I welcome it.” He laughs, his own eyes grazing the desolate isles.
You take a seat behind the counter with him, just talking about nothing. You can tell Steve’s waiting for you to bring something up though, he keeps giving you knowing looks whenever there’s a lull in conversation. 
When he turns away to help some customers you mentally give yourself a pep talk to talk about it. You’re not going to cry. 
“So… I assume the children and Robin filled you in?” You say, once Steve joins you again after the customers have left.
“That they did.” He says, smiling at you with a nod of his head.
“And?” You say, waiting for him to bombard you like Robin did.
“And what? What do I think?” He asks. You sit back, surprised by his response. 
“I guess.” You say shrugging.
“Well… you and Munson are close. Obviously. Totally and completely close. I can see why you’re like… y’know… freaked out or whatever. In denial, like Robin said.” Steve says, shrugging his shoulders, mirroring your action. 
You look up at Steve in total shock from his extremely validating answer and he just smiles back at you. 
“Don’t you think… Am I not.. in the wrong? I mean, it feels like everybody's mad at me… but like, I don’t know what to do?” You say quietly, stumbling through your thoughts.
“I don’t think you’re in the wrong. Feelings are complicated, there’s not really a right or a wrong.” Steve says genuinely, surprising you.
“Wise.” You laugh.
“Well, you know. I’ve had my fair share of feelings.” Steve laughs.
“How did you know when you- uh…” You trail off. Steve waits patiently for you to speak and you’re beyond thankful for it. “With Nancy, how’d you know?” You say, mustering you all of your courage. 
“I think that’s a little different because we weren’t close friends first, but… it’s hard to say. I guess I just really wanted to be with her, even if it was just hanging out. Thought about her like 24/7. All of that corny shit, like butterflies and blushing and feeling like you can’t breathe.” Steve says, grabbing a tape off the counter and fidgeting with it in his hands.
“Sorry for asking about Nancy.” You say, picking up his discomfort as soon as he starts playing with his hair, pushing it back over and over again.  
“Don’t worry about it, seriously.” He says, reaching a hand across and patting your knee in a friendly manner. 
“I guess, I’m just confused cause… I’ve never thought of Eddie that way, but… maybe I have?” You say, questioning yourself. 
“Hmm.” Steve hums, thinking to himself.
“Like, I feel like Eddie’s my person. He’s the only one that I want to hang out with all the time, and I always think about him… but the butterflies and all that other stuff you said, I don’t know. I feel like Eddie's just Eddie, he doesn’t make me nervous like that. 
“Well that could be because you’ve known him your whole life?” Steve gathers. “And I’m not trying to fuck with your head or anything, but you can’t say you don’t blush at stuff he does. I’ve seen it before.” Steve smiles at you genuinely.
“What?” You scrunch your face. You so do not blush because of Eddie. “When?”
“Halloween. Jonathon was taking all those photos and Eddie kissed you on the cheek for one of them. You seriously went bright as a tomato and there’s photo evidence.” Steve laughs.
You remember that night. You did blush, but you blamed it on the alcohol consumed… even though you only had half a beer at that point. You literally went hot all over and then you blamed it on not eating enough before drinking.
“Oh my god.” You say, mostly for yourself. Eddie had made you blush. He made you blush hard. 
“Am I right?” Steve says smugly. You reach across, hitting Steve on the shoulder but he swats you away with a laugh.
“I hate to say it Steve, but maybe you’re onto something.” You smile in disbelief.
“You people have no faith in me.” Steve says, faking hurt. 
All you can do is smile at him because things are finally starting to make a little more sense. 
“Well, want to keep going or are you tapping out of feelings?” Steve says, quirking his brow at you, making you laugh. 
“What are you? Dr. Harrington? PhD in love?” You joke, grabbing your own tape off the counter to fiddle with. 
“Oh yeah. Took a lot of heartbreak to get my PhD but hey, if it helps at least one person, maybe it was all worth it.” He laughs.
The conversation lulls for a moment but you quickly break it, deciding you’re not tapping out of your feelings, how could you when you’re so close to understanding?
“Do you think it’ll ruin our friendship? Like what if it doesn’t work out?” You spit out your worst fear, but it doesn’t even phase Steve.
“Well, from what I heard from Robs, how’s your friendship going right now?” Steve says cautiously with a softness to his voice.
“Horrible. I’m miserable. He looks miserable, but I haven’t really talked to him since last Thursday and even then he was acting weird.” You frown thinking about how Eddie looked in the cafeteria, slouched in his seat at the table, eyes all sad, not even talking to the guys— and Eddie is a talker, it’s not fucking normal for him not to be talking.
“Right. And you’re still confused about if you have feelings for him?” Steve asks genuinely, curious but not prying.
“I mean yeah. Like, I pictured Eddie in my life forever, but I never even considered it in that way or really any way at all. I never put much thought into it, ever.” You say honestly. 
“You don’t… you know.. think about him sexually.” Steve asks, grinning. You look down into your lap, shyly and you feel your cheeks heat but it’s an easy question you know the answer to.
“Truthfully? I always blamed it on him being so close to me. Like proximity planted all that shit in my head. And like… obviously I trust him and stuff so, like… if I thought about him like that, I always told myself it’s because I could trust him and that’s it.” You say, hiding in your hands. Steve grabs at your hands, before shooting you an amused smile. He’s so stupid, but this is fucking working, he’s actually making everything make sense. 
“So you’re attracted to him?” Steve says once your blush cools.
“Eddie’s fucking beautiful. I’ve never been shy to say that. Well, except when he was, like, going through puberty, that was scary.” You say widening your eyes, remembering how gangly and extra clumsy he was right after his growth spurt, and the awkward squeaky voice he had for an entire summer before his voice dropped. Steve laughs at you, clearly enjoying the terror that flashes over your face when you remember the first time you found his porn stash that somehow moved in right along with puberty. 
“And… correct me if I’m wrong but you’ve never had a boyfriend, right?” Steve says.
“You are correct.” You say sheepishly. 
“And why’s that?” He asks. You shrug, starting to feel nervous. 
“You don’t have to tell me. I’m not judging you for your choices, just might be helpful to think about?” Steve says softly, leaving it as an optional question with a way out if you so please.
“Yeah. I think, just… dunno. Whenever I’d think about going on a date, I’d always think about Eddie and that would kind of cut the idea short, if that makes sense? Not that I’d think about going on dates with him, just like, if I thought about going on a date it was more so, like… ‘well I usually hang out with Eddie so there’s no time’.” You ramble, nerves getting to you.
“Makes total sense. But you don’t think you associated Eddie with dating because…” Steve leads, leaving open space in his point for you to conclude.
“Because I want to date Eddie?” You say out loud, trying to piece together the puzzle that you’ve been recklessly throwing the pieces around to for far too long. 
“Once again, I’m not trying to make you think any particular way. Just helping you get to your own conclusions. Think of me as an impartial mediator.” Steve says, standing up from his spot, starting to pile some tapes back into a cart. You stand too, starting to help him since you’ve stolen so much of his time. 
“You really should consider getting a PhD or something, cause damn. Much to think about.” You laugh. “When did you get so wise.” You joke, pushing at his shoulder. 
“Yeah. Definitely would never qualify for a PhD, but thanks.” Steve laughs, placing the final VHS from the counter into the basket. “Now, want to do returns with me? Either that or we leave them for Robin tomorrow and when she chews me out I'll totally blame it on you so…” Steve says, tilting his face at you, raising his brows waiting for your response. 
“Already had Robin chew me out enough.” You smile, grabbing the return bin for Steve. 
You ended up staying with Steve until close. After he dropped you off at home, you spent the whole night thinking about everything you talked through with Dr. Harrington. 
Even after a night of contemplation, you kept thinking about it into the next day. You thought about it as you walked by yourself to school, sat through home room alone, ate lunch alone, walked home alone, and spent the evening alone. 
You like Eddie. 
It’s so fucking clear now. 
I mean, every time you’ve ever pictured your future? It’s always been with Eddie. Every dirty thought, every wet dream, every time you touched yourself, it’s always been about Eddie. You don’t go on dates and you’ve never cared to, because you have Eddie. Eddie is your person though and through. 
You don’t just like Eddie. You love him. 
And when that thought crosses your mind, you feel sick. Feels like someone is both tickling you and also absolutely bludgeoning you from the inside out. Is this what butterflies are? Holy fuck. 
When you think about Eddie spilling his guts to Jeff and Gareth in the drama room, you get that feeling and, god, is it horrible. But also… it makes you giddy?
You think about Eddie and suddenly you can’t wipe the stupid grin off your face. You think about his eyes, his nose, his stupid jokes, his laugh, and you get that fluttery feeling.
Deeper into the night you think about Eddie’s lips. You think about his hands, his arms, the way he always is touching you, the ways he could touch you, and you get a different feeling. Like a heat brewing in you. A desire, a neediness. Sure, you’ve thought things about Eddie, but never this purposefully. It makes you squirm in your bed until you get up and go grab water to cool yourself down.
You wake up befuddled with feelings. Like Steve was a fucking train conductor and you just got run over. 
It doesn’t help that you remembered that you kind of fucked this up already. It’s Friday. It’s been a whole week since you overheard him. 
It’s barely been 24 hours of you feeling so full of feelings. If Eddie was sure enough to admit he loved you to the guys, how long has he been feeling like this? If he’s felt anywhere near the way you feel now, he must have been drowning. And you were just letting him. And now, you’ve made him go a week, knowing that you know that he loves you, and you just went awol. 
Your mind goes to what he said in the drama room. 
“She’s killing me.” 
You’ve been killing him. It didn’t make sense at first, but now it does. It makes perfect sense and it took you until 5PM on Friday night to understand it after a long day of skipping school, laying in bed, and stress baking. And you need to stop it. 
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
ty <3
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avastrasposts · 8 months
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The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 29
Our boys, along with Joel and Tommy, finally made it to Boston and start getting settled there. But working with Joel isn't as straightforward as it might seem, he is not the same man he once was. And he shares a trauma with Frankie, who isn't as stable as he might seem.
Series Master List
Chapter 30 - Warnings have their own post - Word count: 10.7k
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Seriously, fuck Boston winters. You were not made for this kind of weather, no one was made for this kind of weather. You’re grumling under your breath as you stomp your feet in a futile effort to bring life back to your toes. Five Massachusett winters and you’re still no closer to getting used to them, despite all the layers you wrap yourself in during the colder months. The north easterly winds that rushed in off the Atlantic seemed to seep through both clothes and flesh and chill your bones. The bar you were waiting by hadn't opened yet, the owner, a prickly middle aged woman, was late for some reason, leaving you and a few other patrons shivering outside the door. Your plan had been to go straight from work and meet Frankie at the bar, trade a couple of ration cards for hot stew and maybe a whiskey. Frankie was due back from a trade with Joel and Tommy and you needed to talk to them about a special trade. They hadn’t been outside the wall, just another part of the QZ, to trade with someone who’d managed to get hold of actual pre-outbreak cigarettes, a very valuable commodity these days. 
Five years have passed since you all came to Boston. The six guys had built up a solid smuggling network, and you’d stepped aside. You still hated Frankie leaving to go outside the wall, it didn’t happen often these days, but even inside the walls, trading was risky business. But you kept quiet about it, and Frankie never brought it up. You just told him to be careful when he left, told him to come back to you and he always assured you he would. He didn’t always come back in one piece though, several times they’d come back with cuts and bruises and broken knuckles. Both Pope and Benny had even been shot, not fatally, but enough to chill your blood when you saw them stumble in. A stark reminder that even inside the walls, people had guns and were willing to kill for a trade. 
But the four former Delta Force guys, with the addition of Joel and Tommy, instilled fear in the QZ. People had learnt the hard way to not double cross or cheat them, the retribution swift and hard when someone tried to go against them. Pope had taken unofficial leadership, but it was Joel, and Tommy, who did most of the heavy lifting. Pope’s charm had always worked to convince people that he could be trusted to trade with, so he took on the role of negotiator and dealmaker. Joel, on the other hand, seemed to have lost all his charm and charisma in the years after the outbreak, and was always the first to volunteer for runs outside the walls. You often wondered if he had a death wish with the way he so willingly did the riskiest missions and how dark his mind has gotten since the death of Sarah. It had become clear to you all that Joel wasn’t the same man he was before the outbreak. Will, who’d obviously known Joel a lot better than you had, sometimes talked to you about Joel before the outbreak. He was worried about the older man’s mood, and how he sometimes used alcohol and pills to get through the night. The death of Sarah had broken the man and left him to survive, and nothing more. But neither Will, nor Benny, knew how to get through to him. And Tommy had given up, he followed Joel’s lead and did what his older brother told him. It was clear that they’d had five very rough years since the outbreak when you met them again.  
You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought about the relationship that had sprung up between Frankie and Joel. Tommy went where Joel went and Joel often asked Frankie to come too, along with one of the other Miller brothers. You knew Frankie was a follower, not a natural leader, and when he went on missions with only Tommy and Joel, Joel took charge. On their latest run outside the wall, they’d been gone a lot longer than usual. It’d been a trade with a community two days hike away and they’d been delayed, returning only after a week. You’d been frantic with worry, pacing Pope’s living room while he did his best to calm you. You’d had your bag packed, planning on going after them the very next day, when Frankie finally came back. He’d been exhausted, dirty and partially covered in blood, but unharmed and confident. The blood wasn’t his, it belonged to raiders that had attempted to take them on and suffered the consequences. When you saw Joel a couple of days later at the bar, he’d clapped Frankie over the back and praised him for the efficiency with which he dealt with the raiders.
“You dropped that first guy before I even had time to blink!” Joel had said, even a small satisfied grin pushing through on the usually scowling man’s face. “And it was a genius move to make them lead us to their stash, gave us a lot of extra supplies.”
When you’d asked Frankie later that evening how they’d made the raiders give up the information, he’d been unwilling to talk about it, only mumbling that he’d used an old military tactic. But the amount of blood on his clothes made you uneasy, and your unease grew when Joel praised Frankie’s ability to ‘handle things’ the next time they’d come back from a trade in another part of the QZ. Frankie’s knuckles had been bruised for a week afterwards. 
And worst of all, Frankie’s nightmares were getting worse again and you started to see the signs of his PTSD flaring up. It had never been really gone, he always had darker days or periods of nightmares, but since Arlington, and Herb’s work, it’d been under control. Frankie had tools to deal with it and knew when to talk to you about it. But now his nightmares were reoccurring again. He’d come back from a run with Joel and Tommy and be in a confident, elated mood, but then nightmares would inevitably wake you both up in the following nights. When you asked him about it, what triggered them, he would brush it off, say it was only flashbacks to the earliest days of the outbreak, that he was fine. And at first the nightmares had receded after a few days, but then it took longer and longer. The last time he came back, the nightmares had plagued him every night for over a month and his mood had become very dark. No matter how much you tried to coax him to talk to you, or to one of the guys, to remind him of the tools he had, he remained sullen and withdrawn. He hadn’t been back to normal for over six months now and you were worried. You were about to ask him to stop working with Joel, but you needed them to do one last run for you, a special favor for a good man. 
When you decided to step away from the smuggling, after Joel demanded that you and Frankie didn’t work together because of Frankie’s protectiveness of you, you’d looked around for another job that didn’t entail sewages or latrines. By luck you’d met an elderly man, an old college professor from MIT. You’d seen him struggling with the broken zipper of his winter coat one day when you were both assigned to cleaning out a previously condemned building. You’d become pretty adept at fixing clothes, button holes, broken zippers and had helped him by reattaching the zipper so that he could close the coat again. As a thank you, he offered you time on the amateur radio he’d built, using parts from the MIT campus. You had no one special to contact, you didn’t know where your parents or brothers were, even if they were alive, so you asked if Pope could use the radio time to set up trades. The old man, Sean, had agreed to it, and over the  years you spent more and more time with him. He’d taught you how to work the radio, even how to repair it and build smaller radio units, and now, a few years later, you worked the radio with him every day. 
Sean was a good man, old enough when the outbreak happened to not let the brutality of the new world affect who he was. He saw kindness in almost everyone he met and would dole out favors to anyone, irrespective of them being able to repay him or not. He was probably taken advantage of more times than he cared to admit, and you often stepped in to stop people from abusing his kindness. Your connection to Frankie and the rest of the smugglers made sure no one was willing to get on your bad side and now that expanded to Sean and his radio business too. And the more you saw of Sean’s willingness to selflessly help people, the more protective of him you became. 
Now, as you stood stomping your feet outside the still closed bar, you thought back to the conversation you’d had with him yesterday. Everyone in Sean’s family had lived in Boston before the outbreak but, like for most of you, almost everyone in his family had been lost in those first chaotic days and weeks. Sean had been having dinner with his son that fateful Friday night and together they had managed to survive, but everyone else had been lost. Sean never found out what happened to his wife and second son, lost somewhere in the city when chaos erupted. Sean and his son had been in the Boston QZ since the beginning, and after some time, his son had met a woman and fallen in love. A couple of years later they had a son, Sean’s first grandchild. But the birth had been complicated and without access to most of modern medicine, the mother had passed away. A few years later, Sean’s son had taken a wrong turn while on patrol with FEDRA and been infected, leaving Sean as the young boy's only caretaker. The boy, Liam, named after his lost uncle, was Sean’s heart and probably the most spoiled boy in the entire QZ, Sean couldn’t deny him a thing. 
Sean had come in yesterday afternoon, to take over the next shift on the radio, and he’d been uncharacteristically late. 
“Liam’s really ill,” he said, stopping in the doorway of the small radio room. He looked ashen and disheveled. Liam had come down with the flu a week ago but instead of getting better after a while, his fever had spiked. Sean had asked you to cover for him yesterday so that he could go home and care for the boy. He’d traded a large stack of ration cards for pills that were hopefully the expired Advil the man trading claimed they were. 
“The pills didn’t do anything and now Dr. Mason says he’s got bacterial pneumonia.” Sean’s eyes had been red rimmed and watery, “He needs antibiotics or he might…” the old man’s voice broke as he repressed a sob but he waved a dismissive hand at you when you stood up. 
“I hate to ask, I know how much you hate the danger Frankie puts himself in when he goes outside the wall,” Sean had said, stuffing his hands deep in the pockets of his knitted cardigan, ever the college professor. “But is there any way they could get proper antibiotics for Liam? Could you ask?” 
You had no choice, this was why you still accepted the danger the smuggling entailed. FEDRA simply didn’t supply enough of what people needed and the chances of getting antibiotics from them were minute. Any medicine FEDRA owned was hoarded and reserved for their officers and higher ups in the makeshift government that governed the country. Smuggling was the only way ordinary people could get hold of supplies that could save a sick child or relative. As much as you hated Frankie putting himself on the line, what he and the other guys did made a difference in the QZ. 
...
Outside the bar, the line is getting long. But Liz, the bar owner, finally shows up, grumbling about a FEDRA check point, and opens up. It’s an old building and it thankfully has a large open fireplace in the center of the long back wall. While Liz gets the kitchen going, you help out and start the fire. The warmth it spreads thaws out your toes as you grab the seats closest to it and start peeling off your layers. 
It’s not long before Frankie turns up together with Joel and Tommy. He comes straight over to you while Joel and Tommy head for the bar. 
“Hey, mi hermosa,” Frankie smiles as he sinks down next to you on the couch. His lips are cold when he kisses you, bringing a cloud of cold air with him. “I’m freezing, I need thicker socks I think.” 
“Hi Frankie,” you say, cupping his red cheeks with your hands, warming him up. Despite his darker moods, he’s managed to hold on to the softer parts of himself when he’s with you and now that he’s back after a long day in the cold, he wants to do nothing else but pull you onto his lap so that he can wrap himself in your bubble. But you’re still in public, in the bar, so he limits himself to putting his arm over your shoulder and pulling you into his side, soaking up the warmth of the fire. 
“How did the trade go?” you ask, Frankie’s cold fingers caressing the back of your neck, slowly warming up against your skin. 
“It went well, he didn’t have as many cigarettes as he claimed over the radio, but we traded for what he had, made him give us a discount since we had to go all the way over there and then he didn’t have the amount he promised,” Frankie shrugs, “we didn’t even have to threaten him, I think our reputation preceded us.” 
“Yeah, you guys have a pretty violent reputation by now,” you mumble, rubbing your thumb over the many scars on Frankie’s hands, his knuckles crisscrossed by thin white and pink lines. Frankie opens his mouth as if to say something but Joel and Tommy are coming over, drinks in hand, and he stands up instead. 
“I’ll get us some food, cariño. Do you want whiskey too?” 
“Thanks Frankie, food sounds good, but get me a tea if Liz has it,” you smile at him as stops in his tracks and bends down to kiss you instead, his lips warm now.
“Coming right up, amor.” 
Joel and Tommy occupy the two armchairs opposite the couch and Tommy lets out a deep sigh as he stretches out his legs and lean backs. 
“Fuck me it was cold out there today, this god damn winter is never ending,” he grumbles, taking a deep sip of the whiskey in his hand. 
“How’s the radio, any good information?” Joel asks you. Despite not getting off to the best start when you first met again, and Joel’s less than sunny disposition these days, he’s pretty decent. You supply the guys with a lot of useful information and Joel seems to respect that. And as long as Frankie’s protective streak doesn’t compromise their safety while trading and smuggling, Joel seems to appreciate how important you are to Frankie. Although, that might have more to do with how it contributes to the success of the missions. Joel had once said he appreciated how Frankie would always make sure he could get back to you and that included making watertight plans and covering every angle when they went out. ‘He fights like hell to get back to you, darlin’, and he ain’t letting nothing get in the way of that’, Joel had told you while clapping Frankie on the back after a particularly gruesome expedition outside the walls. 
Now the older Texan looks over at you from the brim of his whiskey glass and raises his eyebrows in question. 
“I’ve got some good leads,” you reply, “but I’ve got a special request I need to ask you about when Frankie gets back. It might require a bit more than usual.” 
“As long as it pays well, I’m alright with that,” Joel says and looks over at Tommy who nods along. 
“Is it a dangerous run?” he asks, leaning forward on his knees. 
“I don’t know, depends on where you can get hold of what I need,” you reply, looking up at Frankie who’s returning with two bowls, two mugs of tea and cornbread on a tray. 
“What do you need?” he asks, sitting back down and you gratefully grab your bowl. 
“Antibiotics,” you reply, “And I know it’s hard to come by the real stuff, but it’s for Sean’s grandson. Liam’s got bacterial pneumonia and Sean says he’s really ill. He needs it fast too.” 
Joel looks over at Frankie and nods, “There’s that guy who said he’d meet us in Concord, he was trading all sorts of medicine.” 
“Pope and Will said no to that one though,” Frankie says, digging into the stew. 
“Yeah, but this is different, if Sean’s kid needs medicine, and this guy can supply it, we need to trade with him,” Joel interjects, looking at you as if to make you convince Frankie. 
“Why doesn’t Will and Pope want to trade with him?” you ask Frankie and he shrugs while he swallows.
“I don’t know, I wasn’t there for that decision.” 
“I’ll talk to Pope,” Joel volunteers, “and plan the run, it’s a six hour hike to Concord. What do you think Sean is willing to trade in return?” 
“Anything,” you say, “I mean, it’s Liam, he’ll give up his own life to save his grandson. But I don’t wanna ask him for anything extra just because he’s desperate, that’s now how we do it.” 
“No, that’s fine,” Joel replies, downing the last of the whiskey and putting the glass on the table, “The guy in Concord had a lot to trade, we’ll be able to bring in extra supplies and make a lot in the QZ as it is.” He gets to his feet and shrugs his jacket back on, “I’ll go see Pope straight away, get this planned seeing as we wanna get the meds to Sean quickly.” 
“Thanks, Joel, I appreciate it,” you reply and Joel puts his hand on your shoulder as he steps past the couch. 
“Of course, darlin’, Sean’s been a good friend over the years, we need to help him out. I’ll see you guys later but be prepared to head out tomorrow morning.” The last thing he directs at Tommy and Frankie before he disappears out of the door. 
“Well, if we’re heading out tomorrow morning, I’d better go see Louise,” Tommy sighs and pushes himself up, “I might be in the dog house.” He gives the two of you a wave and leaves. Louise was his latest ‘on again - off again’ girlfriend. Tommy seemed to attract women easily, but keeping them was more problematic. Louise and him have been on again now for a couple of weeks after a very public break up three months ago. 
“Let me know if we’re heading out,” Frankie calls after him and Tommy raises his hand in acknowledgment. 
“Joel was very eager to help out Sean,” you say, “I haven’t seen him be so quick to go on a run unless it was something really extra.” Joel was a ruthless smuggler, you paid what the item was worth to Joel, and nothing less. You’d never seen him do a favor for anyone except maybe Tommy. 
“I think he’s keen to have a reason to go to Concord. Pope said the guy was willing to trade a lot of good stuff.” Frankie put the bowl back on the table and grabbed his tea mug, leaning back he pulled you into him so that his chin rested on your shoulder. “Maybe Pope didn’t think the journey up there was worth it, but it should be now.”
“Not like Pope to say no to a good trade though, the route must be really difficult,” you say, sipping your own tea. You were warm all the way through now, your toes toasty and your muscles felt loose. Leaning into Frankie, he bumps his nose along your cheek, dragging it up to your temple before he presses his lips against your hair. 
“We’ll be gone at least one night,” he mumbles, “are you gonna be ok on your own? You could always go stay with Diana or Eve.” 
Diana was Will’s girlfriend, Eve was Benny’s. Benny had met Eve pretty soon after getting to Boston, there was some story about Benny stepping in to help her carry a kitchen chair up two flights of stairs. She’d yelled at him for presuming she couldn’t handle herself and somehow, Benny fell in love with the tiny redheaded woman with a fierce temper. The big blonde man had followed her around like a puppy for a week before you’d stepped in and talked him up to her, telling her what a great friend he was and how you’d trust him with your life. Once he got a chance, she fell for him hard and the two of them moved in together after just a couple of months. He still followed her around like a puppy and it put a grin on your face every time you saw them together.. 
Will had met Diana while both of them were on probably the roughest duty in the whole QZ, the incinerator. Once you were all safe in Boston, Will’s guilt over Hannah had caught up with him and he’d tumbled head first into depression. Not even Benny could get through to him and Will sought out the most gruesome tasks, working long shifts and falling into bed each night. He worked with the other guys on the smuggling runs, but became even more quiet than usual, going along with what Pope and Joel agreed on. He wasn’t self destructive like Joel, he just didn’t care about anything it seemed. But then he met Diana, both of them regularly signing up for the incinerator. 
Diana had lost her husband and two young daughters when Providence fell, she was one of very few survivors that made it to Boston. Together, Will and Diana worked alongside each other for the better part of a year before they started talking. Once the dam broke, they found comfort and solace in the other person's strength and together they managed to see something other than the darkness that had surrounded them. It took them a long time to move from friendship to lovers but once they did, the old Will gradually came back and he started resembling the man you knew from before the outbreak. Will had been sharing an apartment with Pope ever since coming to Boston, but six months ago he’d moved in with Diana. And when Benny, Will and Frankie were away on smuggling runs, you, Diana and Eve often stayed together. Facing the long nights that they were gone was easier when you had the two other women around. 
“I’ll invite them over,” you say, “if you’re only gone one night I can manage.” 
Frankie pulls you in closer, his lips finding your cheek, “I’ll make sure we come back after one night, you know I can’t stay away from you for even that long.” The tone of his voice, and the way the tip of his tongue comes out to taste the skin he’d just kissed, made a different kind of heat flare up inside you. 
“I need to shower, hermosa,” he mumbles, his teeth finding your earlobe, “why don’t you join me?” The way his warm breath tickles your ear makes you shiver with pleasure and Frankie chuckles, pushing you away from him so that you both can stand up.
“C’mon, baby, I’m taking you home.” 
...
At some point during the evening, Pope slid a note under the front door for you to find when you come back out of the bedroom to get a glass of water. The note gave a coded time and place for Frankie to meet the others. Will was going with them it seemed and Pope must’ve stopped by after Frankie had pulled you into the bedroom. You hadn’t heard a thing, but then, Frankie had been busy making you whimper with the way his tongue teased between your legs. Now you were in bed, wrapped up in the comforter, while Frankie repacked his bag for the early morning start the next day. 
“I’ll see if I can trade for some thicker socks for you while you’re away,” you say, reminded by his complaint when you watch him pull out an extra pair of woolen socks from the wardrobe. “Cathy, down by the mess hall, she’s always keen to trade for cigarettes.” 
“I’m surprised she has any clothes left, she trades everything to get smokes,” Frankie says, checking his gun and ammo. 
“I think she has some sort of connection with FEDRA, she trades children’s clothes too.” You roll over on your belly and stretch, a big yawn escaping you. “I saw weird graffiti today, by the way,” you say, “A red fly. Ed was cleaning it off the wall and said it belonged to some group who call themselves ‘The Fireflies’. Have you heard of them?” you ask. 
“No, what kind of group are they?” Frankie’s done packing and you lift the comforter to let him back into the bed. 
“Ed said they’d been spraying their logo all over the QZ just these past two days, but he didn’t know why. Maybe it’s some sort of protest? FEDRA isn’t too bad here, not compared to Arlington, but people are unhappy with the rations and the curfews.” 
“I hope they don’t try to rock the boat, we don’t want a repeat of Arlington,” he shuffles around, puffing the pillow up under his head before turning to you. “C’mere, you’re too far away,” he smiles, hooking his arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest so that you’re tucked in under his arm. “Need you to heat me up enough to stay warm when I have to sleep in some cold house tomorrow night.” 
“Don’t say that, Frankie,” you mumble into his chest, “I hate the thought of you sleeping in the cold out there.” 
“Don’t worry, I’m used to it, and thinking of you really keeps me warm,” he mumbles, you can feel his lips against your temple as he lets his fingers rake through your hair. “Sleep now, amor. Te amo.” 
“Love you too, Frankie, sleep well.” 
...
You make breakfast for Frankie and Pope the next morning, feeding them fresh arepas filled with the last of some leftover chicken and a couple of fried eggs. As usual when you send them off outside the wall you’re quiet and jumpy. You feel like you don’t want to stop touching Frankie, keeping your hand on his leg while you both eat in silence. He knows where your head’s at on mornings like this and you can feel his eyes on you while you both get ready. When it’s time for them to leave to meet the others, Pope leaves first and lets you say goodbye to Frankie. He pulls you in and you wrap your arms around his waist underneath his winter coat, leaning your forehead against his chest. His arms come around you and you feel his breath on your cheek when he leans his head on your shoulder. 
“Come back safe, Frankie, or I’m coming after you.” 
“I know, cariño, but I’ll come back, I promise,” he whispers, his arms squeezing tight around you as your feet almost leave the floor. He gently puts you back down and cups your cheeks, pressing warm lips against yours. You let his tongue slip in, just for a few seconds, to taste him and feel how he tries to get you even closer. When he pulls back he brushes the tip of his nose along yours. “Stay safe while I’m gone, hermosa, I’ll be back soon.” 
“Stay safe, Frankie.” 
And then he’s gone. You close the door, always a feeling of loss when you know he’s leaving the QZ and the apartment feels empty. The only way to keep sane when he’s gone, is to stay busy. 
Your day is filled with people, a long line waiting to send messages through the radio. Sean is at home with Liam so you work the whole day, right up until when your unofficial office closes. You haven’t told Sean about the attempt at getting medicine for Liam, just in case things don’t work out. You count the ration cards you’ve collected, along with some other bits and pieces you deemed valuable enough to accept, cigarettes, dried beef and, as if by providence, a pair of extra thick wool socks in Frankie’s size. You pack those into your bag along with the beef, and lock up the rest of the items and ration cards in the hidden safe. 
You make your way over to Benny and Eve’s place and find Diana already there. She somehow looks like Will’s opposite but also exactly the same, as dark skinned as he is fair but with the same thoughtful, quiet demeanor and measured movements. She’s almost as tall as him and almost as muscular, when you saw them together it made perfect sense. But when you first met her she seemed so different from Hannah that you wondered if it was only convenience that brought the two of them close. But now that you knew her better, you saw that she had the same protective qualities that Hannah had. Even if she couldn’t collect strays the way Hannah did, she always had an eye out for people who needed extra help, especially children. And although Will and Diana were never as affectionate in public as Benny and Eve, or Frankie and  you, it was clear that they loved each other and that it was a lot more than just something convenient. The sheer change in Will was evidence enough, he seemed happier than you’d ever seen him since the outbreak. 
Eve pulls you in for a warm hug when you come through the door. She’s Benny’s polar opposite, a tiny girl with vivid red hair and a strong Irish accent. She’d been an exchange student in Boston when the outbreak happened and simply got stuck. She’d survived through sheer luck, locking herself in her dorm with two other students when it all broke out. She’d endured the following ten years by relying on herself alone and it had given her a hard exterior shell, coupled with a fiery temper you’d previously thought only was a myth but you were now starting to believe there was some truth behind it. But Benny had been taken in by her instantly, and even though it had taken her a bit longer to warm up to Benny’s golden retriever energy, there was no mistaking how devoted she was to him now. 
The two women sometimes made you wonder who you would’ve turned into if Frankie hadn’t been by your side, if you’d have to fend for yourself all these years. You were pretty sure you would’ve died in the outbreak, or been infected, which was pretty much the same thing. You didn’t even know where you would’ve gone if you hadn’t known Frankie and by extension, not known Denny and his cabin. If you’d survived you thought you’d probably just stay in the Arlington QZ and then die when it fell.
You tried not to think about life before the outbreak too much, and people seldom mentioned it these days. It was too painful for most of you. You always wished you’d had more time with Frankie before the outbreak, that one year of normality you’d had didn’t seem enough. But like you’d told him before, you’d rather be with him and live in this post-apocalyptic world, than not be with him at all. Life without Frankie was impossible to imagine but when he was away, like now, those thoughts were a bit too close to the surface. And you knew Diana and Eve felt the same way when Benny and Will were gone, so you sought out each other’s company for comfort and distraction. 
Today it was Will and Frankie that were away, Benny and Pope remained behind. There was a rule among the four Delta Force guys, to never leave all four at once. At least one of them, usually two, stayed behind. It wasn’t as patriarchal as ‘male protection’, it was about safety in numbers. Should something happen while the others were away, either to those still in the QZ or those on the outside, both groups had safety in numbers. You also knew, although that was more unspoken, that it meant a large enough group remained for a rescue party, should the group outside the QZ not return. It had never come to that yet, but it had been close a couple of times. 
Once you got your boots off and got a hug from Benny and Diana, you sunk down on the couch, inhaling the scent from the kitchen. 
What are you cooking, Eve? That smells amazing!” you exclaim, inhaling again to get a better whiff of the meaty aroma. 
“You’ll never believe this, it’s pork!” the redhead squeals, “Benny got me a new winter coat, and I traded the old one for three whole pounds of pork!” 
A few years ago FEDRA had sent an expedition out to gather as much livestock as possible. Most of the animals had starved to death, there just wasn’t enough feed. But chickens and pigs could live fairly well off scraps and although the pig population was small, sometimes pork made its way onto the market. 
Now you pushed yourself off your feet and went to the kitchen to peer into Eve’s big stew pot. Big chunks of pork simmered slowly in a thick stock and as you stir it your mouth waters. 
“I can't wait to try this, it smells amazing.” 
“Soon! Needs another half an hour, now shoo!,” Eve replies with a smile and waves you away from the stove and back to the couch as Pope knocks and walks through the front door. 
“Fuck! That smells so fucking good, Eve!” he calls the second he steps through the door and Eve laughs, everyone was getting excited by the pork. 
“Anything good on the radio today, hermana?” Pope asks you as he sinks down next to you on the couch and gives you a hug from the side. 
“Nothing major, some updates. But I talked to that Frank guy again. His partner is not the trusting kind but maybe with time we can work something out.” 
“Do you know where they’re based?” Benny asks, he’s putting down cutlery and bowls on the coffee table in front of you. 
“No, he hasn’t said yet, I think he’s still wary. But he knows I’m in Boston, I told him as a way to show trust. And I didn’t mention that any trade would be with at least four big ex Delta Force men…” you shoot a crooked grin at Benny who most definitely could look very intimidating when he wanted too. 
“Yeah, that’s probably a detail left to the end,” Benny chuckles and sits down on the other side. 
“Do you know what they were going out for today?” Diana asks, “I came home so late last night and Will didn’t have time to tell me this morning,” she’s looking over at Pope who nods. 
“Yeah, antibiotics for Sean’s grandkid Liam, he’s very sick.” 
“They’re doing it as a favor to me really,” you say, “but Joel seemed pretty keen, he said the guy had a lot more to trade than just antibiotics.” 
“That’s good, if it’s more medicine it might be a chance to bring some much needed supplies to the clinic.” Diana works at a small, volunteer run, medical clinic. It was the only place to get health care that didn’t involve FEDRA’s unjust priority system of hoarding anything useful for their officers. The clinic gave supplies to those who needed it most, FEDRA or not. 
“We’ve been out of antibiotics for over a year and we’re running low on almost all our stock,” she says. “I’ll ask Will to set up a trade with the clinic, we could use so much.” 
Eve calls you all over to serve yourself from the pot and soon you’re all silent around the coffee table, humming over the stew. You all eat your fill but there’s plenty left and Eve ladles some into containers and gives one to you and one to Diana. . 
“Give them to your men when they’re back, they’ll need warming up after a night out in this weather.” 
During the afternoon it had started to snow and now it’s coming down thick, the stubborn Massachusetts winter wasn’t ready to give up yet even though it was already March. When you leave Eve and Benny’s apartment with Pope and Diana the heavy snowflakes have coated the dirty streets, giving the neighborhood a Christmas-like feel. You shiver despite your warm coat, looking up at the sky and hoping that Frankie and Will are inside a good shelter at least, maybe even somewhere where they can light a fire. 
Pope and you walk Diana home and then hurry through the streets and make it back just before curfew begins. Pope has moved up to your floor, but in a smaller apartment now, and as you get to his door he holds it open for you. 
“Do you wanna come in? Frankie said you might need some company.” 
“Thanks Santi, that sounds nice, I’m not ready to face the empty apartment yet,” you say and accept his invitation gratefully. 
“I’ll get us some whiskey, make yourself comfortable,” he says and kicks his boots off and you do the same. You sink down into the corner of his couch as he brings out a bottle and two glasses. 
“Before the outbreak, I never drank whiskey,” you say as he hands you a glass, “now I feel like it’s all I drink, to calm down, to celebrate, to warm up. And I don’t even like it that much.” 
“Good think you know some pretty resourceful smugglers then,” Santi chuckles and occupies the other corner. He sips his drink and his expression changes, the light smile that had tugged at the corner of his mouth slips away and he looks concerned. 
“I wanted to talk to you about Frankie,” he says, his eyes lifting from the glass to meet yours. “His PTSD is flaring up, isn’t it?” 
You nod and sigh, “What did you notice?” 
“He’s been more tired than usual lately, almost fell asleep while we were keeping watch for a trade and he said it was just a bad night but I know him better than that.” Santi says, “And it’s his mood, Frankie’s not a chatty guy at the best of times but now he’s really quiet, if he’s not snapping at people, even telling Benny to back the fuck off and flaring up over nothing.” 
You tilt your head back and sigh again, deeper this time. You’d seen the changes in him for months but you didn’t realize it had gotten that bad, he was good at hiding it around you since you didn’t go out on runs with them.
“I’d like him to stop smuggling,” you say, looking back at Santi, “at least the runs outside the QZ or any of the more dangerous trades on the inside, the nightmares get worse when he’s been outside or had to do something violent.” 
“I can try to get him away from outside runs, the problem is Joel. He seems to favor working with Frankie and wants him on every run, he seems to trust him the most.” 
“Joel doesn’t get to decide who goes or who doesn’t,” you scowl, brow wrinkled, “Frankie’s more important than the smuggling.” 
Santi nods, rubbing his hand over the thick beard he’s grown, “I agree, and there’s another reason why I think Frankie shouldn’t go on runs with Joel,” he says, staring at the amber liquid rather than you and falls silent for a few seconds while you look at him, waiting for him to continue. 
“Joel’s…methods, or whatever you wanna call them, might bring out a side in Frankie I haven’t seen since our army days,” Santi says, sitting up a bit straighter and leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, “We did some fucked up stuff, you know that, even though we never shared the details with you.” 
“Frankie’s nightmares told me enough about that, yeah,” you say and Santi nods. 
“I haven’t been out on a run that’s gone bad in a long time but, here and there, I hear things about what Joel gets up to, when he’s out with Tommy and Frankie, that’s got me worried. Benny mentioned something and Joel let something slip once.” 
“What do you mean, Santi?” you say, anxiously leaning forwards too and he sighs.
“Joel’s very good at violence, and I think he’s bringing that side out in Frankie too. But I’m not sure,” he adds quickly as he sees your horrified expression, “but I think it would do Frankie good to not work so closely with Joel.” 
You can feel your chest constricting, unable to sit still you nervously twist your hands together around the glass “Santi, please, whatever you do, make sure Frankie stops going on runs with him,” you plead, your voice wobbly as tears spring up. Santi moves across the couch and holds out his arms for you.
“Come here, hermana, I promise, I’ll get him to stay behind,” he pulls you in for a hug and you gratefully accept his arms around you, sniffling into his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he says, cupping the back of your head with his hand, “I shouldn’t have brought this up now, especially not with Frankie away,” he says, rubbing your back. 
“No, it’s good you told me, I need to know, or I can’t do anything about it,” you push back a bit from Santi and rub your wet eyes. Santi lets go of you and grabs a handkerchief from the side table behind the couch.
“Here, it’s clean,” he offers it to you.
“Thanks, fuck,” you sigh, “I’m such a cryer, you’d think I’d be tougher after ten years in the fucking apocalypse.” 
“You love Frankie,” Santi says and gives you a small smile, “and when he has issues I think you’re allowed to cry as much as you want. And I’ll try to talk to him, get him to stop doing runs for a while, I’ll tell him you’re worried about him, he’ll do anything for you.” 
“Thanks Santi,” you sigh and gratefully accept the glass he holds up, taking a small sip. 
“Do you wanna stay here tonight? I’ll sleep on the couch, you can take the bed.” 
You shake your head, “No, I know what you get up to in that bed, the walls are not that thick, but thanks for the offer.” You smile at him as he chuckles and looks mock offended. 
“I change the sheets, you know.” 
“Corny as it sounds, I wanna sleep on Frankie’s pillow, it smells like him,” you say as you get up and reach for your boots, “Makes me sleep better when he’s gone.” 
Santi smiles and pulls you in for another hug as you stand up, “I’m glad I made him go ask for your number, he’s lucky to have you.” 
“Thanks, Santi,” you wrap your arms around him and give him a big squeeze, “I’m lucky to have both of you in my life, don’t know what I’d do without you.” 
“Probably have less sex,” he quips with a grin, “like you say, the walls are not that thick.” 
“Shut the fuck up,” you slap his shoulder and laugh. “Sleep well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sleep well, and you know where I am if you need company, just come over.” 
...
It’s not very late the next evening when you hear Frankie come through the door, his heavy pack dropping on the floor as you step out from the kitchen. He looks cold and wet, and he gives you a tired smile as you wrap your arms around him. 
“Walking in the snow was fucking exhausting,” he grumbles, his cold face tucked against the crook of your neck. “Is there hot water? I really need a shower.” 
“Plenty, I didn’t shower yet - fuck!,” you squeal as Frankie’s cold fingers find their way under your sweater, “your hands are so cold!”
“Sorry, but you’re just so soft and warm, hermosa,” he mumbles, pulling you closer and you feel the melting snow on his jacket starting to seep through your clothes. 
“Get your clothes off, Frankie boy, I’ll warm up the shower for you,” you giggle as he tries to slide his cold hands down your trousers. “Get off me,” you grin, pushing him away as he disobeys and grabs your ass with two icy hands. 
“Only if you shower with me,” he chuckles and you wiggle his hands out of your trousers and start pushing his jacket off.
“Did you get the antibiotics?” you ask as you hang it up to dry behind him.
“Yeah, Will took it to Sean straight away. It was expired but I remember Dr. Mason saying most antibiotics are fine even fifteen years after they’ve expired so I hope they work for Liam.” 
“Thanks for going out for them, Frankie, it really means a lot.” Frankie comes into the bathroom with you and sinks down on the toilet seat as you turn on the shower. The water is slow to warm up but it’ll get hot soon enough.
“Sean’s a good man and he’s helped us many times with the radio,” he says, letting you help him undress. Now that he's under the bright bathroom light you can see the dark circles under his eyes, he looks dead on his feet. You unbutton his thick flannel, peeling the layers off him and ushering him into the shower when he tries tugging at your sweater. 
“Get warm first, Frankie,” you smile, pinching his cold butt as he steps in, earning you a growl that turns into a full body shudder as the warm water hits him. 
“Fuck that’s good,” he groans, dropping his head down onto his chest with a deep sigh. 
You stay together in the shower until the warm water runs out and then you drag Frankie to bed with you, only getting up to bring Eve’s leftovers to him. Once he’s eaten he pulls you in close, his hard cock grinding against your hip while he dips his thick fingers into you, swallowing down your moans as you seek out his mouth. When he’s made you come you push him onto his back, straddling his narrow hips and sinking down over his hard cock. His eyes are half closed, head tilted back on to the pillow and you can feel his fingers digging bruises into your hips while he groans under you. He comes hard, with a loud shout, and pulls you down over him as he grinds his hips into you, burying himself deep. He’s almost asleep by the time you untangle yourself from his arms and go to clean up. When you come back he’s softly snoring and he only wakes up enough to wrap his arm around you when you pull the comforter over the both of you.
“Love you,” he mumbles, half asleep, into your neck. 
“Love you to, Frankie,” you whisper, taking his hand on your chest and pulling it closer. 
...
Will comes by the radio office the next day, just before you close up. His big frame feels even bigger inside the small office and the kitchen chair in the corner creaks under his weight as he sits down. The young girl who’s sitting on her mother’s lap gives him a wide eyed stare as the mother dictates a message to you. You can’t help but giggle at the girl’s astonished face as Will gives her a small finger wave and a smile. 
“You need to work on your charm, Will,” you say to him as the girl and her mother have left and you’ve closed the door to the radio room. 
“I must look old and scary,” he chuckles and swaps seats so that he’s in front of your desk instead. “I dropped off the meds to Sean last night, he gave them to Liam straight away.” 
“Frankie told me, and I stopped by there on my way here this morning, Liam’s already doing better. Dr. Mason says his fever broke just before dawn.” 
“That’s great to hear, then our run was worth it,” Will leans back in the chair, running his hand through his hair and sighs, “I need to talk to you about Frankie though.” 
“You too? Pope said the same thing when you guys were away, about Frankie’s PTSD getting worse.” 
“Yeah, he said he was gonna talk to you about it, but this is about something else, although I’m pretty sure it’s connected to his PTSD.” Will replies and crosses his arms, you recognise the look on his face, the way he collects his thoughts before he speaks. 
“When we met up with the guy,” he says eventually, locking eyes with you, “he had a pretty good stash of medicine to trade, but when we asked about antibiotics, he said he didn’t want to trade them for what we were offering. He had some other guy near Worcester who would pay more, more than what we had on us. We tried talking him into accepting our offer but he refused. So I did the trade with him for the other stuff, still trying to persuade him, telling him about Liam and how it would save his life but the guy refused.” Will pauses and shakes his head, “Frankie lost it, he lashed out, punched the guy and threatened to gouge out his eye if he didn’t take us to his supplies. Frankie had his knife out, the point next to the guys eye and Joel was telling him to do it, it was fucking close.” 
You shudder, you’ve seen Frankie be violent when needed, but you’d never seen him threaten anyone like that, even though you realized he was capable of it. Will is still looking at you, pausing his story when you pulled back, now you nod at him to continue. 
“I was trying to calm things down, the guy was panicking, I was worried he’d do something stupid. And Frankie was not thinking straight, his hands were shaking, he nicked the guy's cheek with his trembling. And the guy caved, took us to his stash, it wasn’t far, and traded us for the antibiotics. Frankie kept talking about how you need them for Sean, to save Liam, that Liam deserves to live because Sean is a good man. I got worried, Frankie wasn’t on top of things, I’ve seen him slip before, towards the end of our time serving together, and that’s where he was now, his headspace was not good.” 
“Do you think something triggered him specifically?” you ask and Will shakes his head. 
“No, just all of it, the stress and danger of being outside the wall and the need to get meds for Liam. But Joel didn’t help, I’ve talked Frankie back from this kind of situation a couple of times but Joel was pushing it. Yelling at the guy, telling Frankie to get closer, it was fucked up, I had to step in and pull Frankie off the guy.” 
Will crosses his arms again and lets out a deep sigh, “Joel’s changed, we know that, it’s like he doesn’t give a fuck about anyone, apart from maybe Tommy. But he's inadvertently getting inside Frankie’s head too, picking at the worst parts of the soldier version of Frankie. And since you’re the only person Frankie really cares about,” Will raises his hand as you begin to protest, “It’s true, I’m not saying Frankie doesn’t care about the rest of us, but you are everything to him, without you, he has nothing, and you know that. And Joel’s particular brand of personal hell is seeping into Frankie and activating behaviors that I thought were long gone..”
“Fuck, Will…” you sigh, sinking down in your chair, looking over at him with worry, “Frankie can’t go out anymore, he just can’t:” 
“I know, that’s what I was thinking too. But there’s more, unfortunately, “ Will says with a grimace, “The guy had oxy to trade and I said no, we don’t deal with that. But Joel took it anyway, said he’d just trade it on his own to the soldiers, the profit was too good to pass up on.”
“So Joel’s just gonna trade on his own? With Tommy?” you ask and Will nods, his eyebrows pulled together in a deep frown.. 
“I think so, I talked to Pope and we have to have a sit down with them, see where we stand if Joel insists on trading oxy on his own. But you’re gonna have to talk to Frankie, make sure he’s ok.” 
“Yeah, I’m gonna talk to him tonight, he can’t go out on runs anymore Will, it’s already fucking with his head, and it’s just getting worse.” 
“I agree, but he listens to you, he’ll be fine once he gets away from Joel and doesn’t do runs with him.” 
“Thanks Will, I hope you’re right,” you say, getting up and grabbing your coat, “I’d better get home and talk to him straight away.” 
“It’ll be fine, he listens to you,” Will says, accepting your hug when you stand on your tiptoes to reach around his neck, “he’ll be fine.”
You wish it had been as easy as Will had said, but it wasn’t, far from it. You got home, Frankie was already there, sorting dinner and you kept thinking about what to say to him all through it, and of course he knew something was wrong and asked. But now you’re standing on either side of the couch and you can feel hot tears prickling behind your eyes while Frankie stares at you, his hands on his hips and his brows furrowed. 
“I did what I did because of you, because of Liam!” he says, throwing his hands in the air, “He needed the meds and you asked me to get them!”
“I didn’t tell you to go threatening to gouge someone’s eye out!” you say back, your voice louder than you intend, but frustration is making it hard to control yourself, Frankie just doesn’t seem to get it. “How can you-” 
“Because I had to!” he yells, cutting you off, “He had what we needed to help Sean and Liam, what was I gonna do? He was refusing to give it to us and we needed those meds. Liam needed those meds! What the fuck was I supposed to do? Walk away?”
“Yes! Maybe that's the choice you have make sometimes! Maybe it’s so fucked up now that you have to choose if you wanna be the guy who gouges someones eye out or not, Frankie!” You yell back at him, angry tears starting to drip and you wipe the palm of your hand over your eyes as Frankie growls. 
“I don’t wanna be that guy!” Frankie shouts, gripping the back of the couch and you see his knuckles turn white, “I don’t wanna! But I fucking know how to be that guy and I’m gonna be him if I need to!”. 
“You’ve always got a choice! And what if he’d refused, or Will wasn’t there? Would you have done it and taken his eye out?” You can feel tears staining your cheeks now and usually Frankie drops anything he’s doing if he sees you cry, any time you disagree, it’s like kryptonite to him. But now he just stares at you and puts his hands back on his hips. 
“I don’t fucking understand you, you’re telling me that guy's eye is worth more than Liam’s life?” Frankie shakes his head like he can’t believe what you’re saying, “He had what we needed to save Liam’s life, what right does he have to deny us that? What if was Lucía? Then what? Would you still tell me his eye was worth more?” He’s coming around the couch and up to you, staring down at you with his eyes dark and you raise your hands, palms towards his chest. “Frankie…” 
“No, I would’ve fucking killed him and anyone who had what she needed and you know that! You fucking know I would’ve done anything to save her so you have no right to stop me from doing anything necessary to save Liam!” He’s yelling at you and you take a step back, choking on your tears as Frankie runs both hands through his hair, turning around and stalking back across the living room. 
“And it was your fucking idea, you’re idea to get the meds, that’s why I went out there and risked my fucking life in the first place and now you’re telling me I shouldn’t have done it.” 
“Frankie, that’s not what I said,” you protest weakly, “I never said..” you’re cut off by a knock on the door and Frankie walks to it without a backwards glance at you. 
“Hey Frankie, everything alright?” you hear Joel’s voice from the hall, from his tone you can tell he’s heard your raised voices from outside.
“Hey, yeah, um…all’s good,” Frankie mumbles, “what’s up?”
 I thought we’d start planning that next run, if now’s a good time?
“Yeah…sounds good,” Frankie hesitates for a beat, you can hear the tension in his voice, “But not here, can we go somewhere else?” 
“Yeah sure, the bars open, we can use the room in the back,” Joel replies and you hear Frankie’s boots scuff on the floor as he pulls them on. 
“Frankie, we need to-” you say, walking towards the front door as he stands up and grabs his jacket. 
“I need to think,” he interrupts, his eyes on his shoes as he pulls on the jacket, “I’ll be back later.” 
And with that, he’s gone. 
The front door closes behind him with a heavy thud and you can’t seem to move. You’ve argued before, plenty of times, over stupid things. But he’s never left, never in the middle of an argument. But now he’s gone and you’re left standing with wet cheeks and a lead ball in the pit of your stomach. 
Slowly anger seeps into you, drying up your tears and making you bunch up your fists as you turn back to the kitchen. You break one of the bowls as you throw the remains of your dinner into the sink but you leave the broken pieces there as you stomp into the bathroom and turn on the shower. You let the hot water scald you until it starts to run cold and you step out, your skin damp and heated. It’s not even late, but you crawl into bed, pulling the comforter tight around you, trying to force your body into sleep two hours before it’s usual time. Your anger and frustration grows as you twist and turn, every position uncomfortable and with a furious kick you knock Frankie’s pillow off the bed. 
Finally, much later, when you’ve resigned to lying flat on your back and staring at the ceiling, you hear his key in the front door. As you listen he kicks his boots off, the jacket falls on the floor and he knocks the coffee table as he stumbles to the kitchen. Cursing loudly in Spanish, he sounds drunk. The kitchen tap runs and you hear the clatter of the broken bowl in the sink and another curse as a glass clinks.
Eventually he stumbles into the bedroom and you sit up, turning on the bedside lamp. It makes him stop at the door, his face sullen and tired, you can see his red eyes even from the bed. He’s swaying where he stands, one hand on the door frame to keep himself steady. 
“You have no right to judge me for what I do to survive,” he says, his tone stubborn. 
“You weren’t doing it to survive, Frankie,” you say, trying to keep your voice calm as anger flares up inside your chest again. 
“I did what I had to do so that Liam could survive,” he takes an unsteady step towards the bed, his movements are sluggish, his eyelids heavy, “You’re not out there, you don’t have to make the choices, I have to save them, we have to save them, Joel and me.” 
He spots his pillow on the floor and bends down to pick it up, almost losing his balance in the process. He staggers backwards, holding the pillow up, pointing it at you, opening his mouth. 
“Frankie, come to bed,” you say, stopping him, “you need to sleep, we should talk about this when you’re sober.” 
“You don’t know what I see, every night,” he jabs the pillow at you, his words starting to slur, “and now you don’t want me in bed with you. I’m too fucked up for you? Is that it?” He shouts the last words, squeezing his eyes shut and he loses his balance, stumbling back to the wall and catching it to remain upright. 
“Frankie!” you call, scrambling from the bed, “you know that’s not true, you know that’s never true!” You can feel tears starting to well up as you reach for him, putting out your hands to steady him. But he brushes you off, pushing himself off the wall and lurch through the door, back to the living room. 
“You, you,  ask me to go outside, to..to…get you stuff, but then…you think I’m a mo..monster when I do what I ne-need to do, to- to survive, to help h-her survive.” He slumps down on the couch, flat on his belly, burying his face in the pillow. 
“I don’t think you’re a monster, Frankie,” you sob, “I never said anything like that. Please just come to bed, we’ll talk in the morning, please, Frankie, come to bed with me.” You kneel by the couch, taking his hand, it’s limp in your grip and he shakes his head, his eyes closed. 
“There’s n-no t-tomorrow,” he mutters, sleep, or maybe unconsciousness, dragging him under, as you wrap your fingers around him. 
You rock back on your heels, swallowing down another sob, still holding his hand. It’s never been this bad, you’ve never seen him like this and you’re suddenly scared. It’d been getting worse, but now it’s spilled over so suddenly and you feel overwhelmed, frozen on the floor next to him as he begins to snore. 
In sleep he still looks like your sweet Frankie, even though his brow is furrowed and troubled. But you feel like you’ve had a glimpse of the real darkness that sits inside him, and it’s left you paralyzed. What do you say tomorrow? How do you get him passed this? 
Your body is frozen to the spot next to him, but your mind is racing, until a shiver makes you move. Stiff and like a sleepwalker you pull yourself up from the floor and cover Frankie with the blanket from the back of the couch. Then you drag yourself back to bed and burrow yourself deep under the comforter. It takes hours before you fall into a fitful sleep, new nightmares plaguing your mind as you try to find, and save, a new version of Frankie of who doesn’t want to be saved. At least not by you.
Chapter 30
Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse @harriedandharassed @meveispunk @hiroikegawa @jwritesfanfics @vickie5446
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megamindsecretlair · 5 months
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It Started With a Whisper - Chapter 10
Chapter 9 Chapter 11
Pairing: Sam Wilson x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Some sentences are intentional AAVE. FLUFF. FILTH. Cursing, fingering (fem receiving), PIV, slight cum play, , pet names, Soft Sam. Sorry if I missed some!
Summary: You are the front desk clerk who started a few months ago and you somehow managed to snag Sam Wilson, the handsome and sweet trauma counselor. It has been a year since you started dating Sam and things couldn't be more perfect.
Word Count: 3,212k
Masterlist
A/N: I desperately needed some fluff, and Sam is always good for that. Ugh, these two make me sick. SICK! But they're my babies! Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! I love hearing your thoughts! I block ageless blogs.
Taglist: @multiversefanfics @chaos-4baby @leahnicole1219 @capswife @anghstybean @targaryenvampireslayer @sheabutterbabes @browngirldominion @theunsweetenedtruth
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One Year Later…
Sam drove you into work while you chatted his ear off about your upcoming interview. You were so nervous! While you will miss working at the front desk with Ariel, it was high time that you branched out and did something else.
It had been one year since your coffee date with Sam and glancing over at him, you were damn glad you said yes. He was so handsome, it made you sick. 
“If you say I got somethin’ on my face, we’re gonna have a problem,” Sam said and chuckled.
“Relax. Can’t I look at you?” You asked.
“You can look at me all day long, as long as I get to look right back,” Sam said. He stopped at a red light and grabbed your hand. He brought it to his lips and placed a soft kiss there. Your toes curled in your shoes. 
“Sounds like a deal to me,” you said.
You flipped through your portfolio one more time. Sam glanced at you and laughed. “You are going to do great. You were practically doing the job already,” he said.
“I can still be nervous! I didn’t know how much I wanted this job until Mr. Bell suggested I toss my hat in,” you said.
“You know that’s his way of saying that you practically got the job,” Sam said.
You nudged his shoulder. “That’s not true!” 
Sam threw his hand up and shrugged. You giggled and ended on a sigh. Maybe he was right, but that didn’t mean you could coast through the interview. While Sam was off with Steve hunting down James Barnes, you had taken over some of his meetings unofficially. The director, Mr. Bell, had suggested that you try and you nearly threw up after the first meeting. The hell did you know about leading a group? 
However, the vets responded to you. Though you weren’t one yourself, you had a little advice to throw around. A little something that they resonated with. Mr. Bell said that you were a natural listener and at the end of the day, that was all that mattered.
While Sam seemed to be gone more and more, chasing down every shadow that crossed his way, he agreed to a part time role while Mr. Bell found someone a little more consistent. There had been a series of “trial counselors” while Mr. Bell searched for a natural fit. Someone to take up Sam’s mantle and carry it on. 
You didn’t think he knew about you and Sam, but you weren’t keeping it a secret either. How could you? You wanted to kiss him every chance you got. Now, when you stared in the hallway, he stared right back. You got to look at his ass all day and he got to flirt with you from down the hall.
Sam parked and held your hand as you walked to the front of the VA building. Right outside the door, Sam stopped. He stepped closer, looked at you, and licked his lips. You sighed as his lips descended on yours. You never tired of Sam’s kisses. 
The way he took his time. The way his lips felt against yours. The way he gripped your hips as if it physically pained him to withdraw and rest his head against yours. “Gonna be thinkin’ bout them lips all day,” he said.
“You say that all the time,” you said, with a giggle. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, feeling the strength of him. It still amazed you that he was yours. That you could literally kiss him whenever you wanted to. Like now.
You pressed your lips to his and you felt him smile around it. “Give me one more then,” he said. 
You giggled and kissed him again, lingering for longer this time. 
“Hm, just you wait till tonight,” he said.
“Hm, don’t get me started if you can’t finish,” you said.
“You two are going to make me puke!” Ariel’s voice called out from somewhere behind you. You giggled and craned your neck to see her walking towards the front door. 
“As if you and Ruby aren’t just as sickening!” You tossed back.
“We don’t flaunt it at work. Ya nasties!” Ariel cackled as she went inside. You sighed and looked at Sam. He only playfully rolled his eyes. He kissed your cheek.
“Before you head inside, I wanted to tell you that I got invited to an Avengers party,” he said. 
“What! Sam!” You shrieked. Partying with the Avengers? Holy shit! You jumped up and down but Sam was not jumping with you.
“How are you not more excited?” You asked.
“I think I’m still really shocked. These are the Avengers! Like, I feel like Steve is gonna smack me and tell me he’s kidding,” Sam said.
“Well, let’s hope he doesn’t. His smacks will land you in the middle of the Hudson,” you said.
Sam laughed at your joke and shook his head. “Be my plus one?” Sam asked.
“Are you insane?” You asked. You go party with the Avengers? Was he out of his rabbit ass mind?
“Please? I hear Thor’s going to be there too,” Sam pleaded. He grinned and you rolled your eyes. You thoroughly regretted telling him that you thought Thor was the hottest Avenger. He was so dreamy. 
You smacked your lips and leveled Sam with a stare. He only poked out his bottom lip.
“I can’t believe you’re going to make me embarrass myself in front of the Avengers!” 
Sam did a little jig and you pushed him away from you. He was so damn corny. He raced ahead of you to open the door and made a show of gesturing, “After you.” 
You rolled your eyes and went inside. He matched your pace and grinned from ear to ear. “This is exciting and I want you there with me. Can you blame me for that? I promise I’ll protect you from embarrassment,” he said.
“You better. If I turn into an incoherent puddle, you’ll have to scoop me into a bucket. Oh man, my mom is going to freak out when I tell her,” you said.
“Not looking forward to that conversation. But I can be there while you tell her, help ease her mind?” Sam volunteered.
“Would you?” It was your turn to give him puppy eyes. He kissed the tip of your nose. 
“You know I will,” he said.
Meeting your mom went nothing like you expected. You thought your mom would freak at meeting someone new. But you had steadily told her some things about Sam. About how he worked with the vets, was kind, compassionate, and had a strong character. She practically fell in love with the man herself.
When he showed up, your mom toned down her crazy. She asked Sam a bunch of questions and didn’t balk at learning that he hung out with Steve on a regular basis. Both of your parents thought it was very fancy that you knew Steve well enough to use his first name. 
Sam charmed the pants off of your parents, even your grumpy dad. Once learning that Sam was also a vet, they hit it off and talked shop all night. Your dad lit up like a Christmas tree, talking about the time he served. You left the men to their devices while you helped your mom set the table. Your siblings behaved themselves as well. They kept their Captain America questions down to about…three hundred or so.
Sam was a sport. He answered all of their questions and then some. You kept waiting for him to get sick of your family. Or to signal that he was ready to leave. Or for your parents to say or do something embarrassing. You were ready with an apology whenever something went wrong. But it never happened. The evening was about as close to perfect as you could get.
It went so well, that when you walked Sam to the door, you couldn’t hold back the tears. That was the first family dinner you didn’t have to swoop in and save the day. You still recalled how nasty your mom was the day before when she realized all of the dishes in the sink. As if you hadn’t been working all day and she wasn’t at home to do it herself.
Sam pulled you into a hug and just held you there next to the door until you apologized for ruining his shirt. He told you not to worry about it, but well, when did you not worry? 
You made plans with Sam to come over later to tell her about the Avenger party. An Avenger party! Holy hell, you were going to an Avenger party! What kind of life were you living right now? 
You said goodbye to Sam at his meeting room. He held your hand and wished you luck on your interview. You went to the front desk where Ariel was sitting at her desk, pretending to read a magazine.
“You know that’s upside down,” you said. You entered the front desk, closing the barrier behind you, and dumped your things on the desk. 
“Never mind that! What’s got you so damn happy?” Ariel asked.
“Cone of silence?” You asked.
“Oh, this is going to be good! Fine, yes,” she agreed.
“Sam got invited to an Avenger party and asked me to go with him!” You squealed. Ariel squealed with you, but you were both careful to keep it contained. You were still in a government building and had to maintain decorum. The minute women started hooting and hollering, the building would collapse. 
“And you couldn’t swing an invite for me. Hater,” Ariel said with a grin. “Girl, this is big! Slide that fine ass Hawkeye my number!” 
“Stop it! What will Ruby say?” You asked.
“Hell, we both love him. He knows he needs a little double scoop of chocolate in his life!” 
You cackled with Ariel as you went about your day, counting down the minutes to your interview. Your leg bounced like crazy as you ran through your potential answers. Why were interviews so nerve wracking? 
It was the twenty-first century. Couldn’t they let people prepare properly? Surprising people with questions they have no hope of preparing for just seemed cruel. Awesome, experienced people could be missing out on jobs left and right simply because they interviewed poorly.
You mentally climbed off of your soapbox as you headed upstairs to your interview. You were pretty sure you answered Mr. Bell’s questions properly. But there was one other person there, Ms. Soto, and she was an icicle. While Mr. Bell gave it more of a casual, relaxed atmosphere, Ms. Soto was a wet blanket. She gave you nothing at all.
Afterwards, they thanked you and excused you out. Calling in the next candidate. Well, you did your best and that was all you could do. You headed downstairs, back to the front desk, where Sam was chatting with Ariel.
“Whatever she tells you, don’t believe a word of it,” you said. 
Sam smiled when he saw you and kissed your cheek. “I’m still trying to figure out what happened in Vegas,” Sam said. “But she’s better than some prisoners of war.”
“Damn straight,” you said and hi-fived Ariel. 
Sam laughed and shook his head. His knuckles tapped on the top of the desk. “So? How’d it go?”
You gave them the rundown of your interview. Sam waved off your concerns about Ms. Soto. “Her face always looks like that. She frowned once in ‘87 and hasn’t cracked a smile since,” he said.
You giggled and let him pull you into a hug. He always knew how to lighten the mood and get you out of a funk.
“Coffee?” You asked.
“So much yes,” he said.
“Don’t ya’ll see each other like…every day? Ain’t ya’ll sick of each other?” Ariel asked, playfully. She gave you the side eye and you stuck your tongue out at her.
“Hell no!” You said. 
Ariel sighed dramatically. “Kids, you know they grow up so fast,” she said. 
You and Sam cackled as you made your way to your favorite corner cafe.
Later that evening, you were on the couch watching TV with Sam. He had James Barnes’ information spread out on the coffee table as had become his habit the past few months. He was no closer to finding the man than he had been when he started a year ago.
“He’s a trained ghost, babe. It would go against everything Hydra did to him if he was easy to find,” you said.
“Yeah, but how many dudes walk around with a metal arm? Someone’s seen him,” he said. He rubbed his head as he poured over the same grainy photographs and redacted information. 
“This is starting to get to you, huh?” You asked.
He sighed and sat back on the couch. He pulled your legs over his lap and rubbed deep circles into your thighs as he stared at all of the papers. 
“Yeah. I hate feeling like I’m letting Steve down,” he said.
You rubbed his bicep and looked at his profile. Poor man. He looked so dejected. “You can’t let Steve down. Pretty sure it goes against the rules,” you said.
Sam chuckled. “What rules?” 
“The bald eagle rules,” you said. 
Sam tore his gaze away from the Barnes’ file and you grinned. He closed his eyes and sighed. “You know you want to laugh, c’mon,” you said.
“Absolutely not. I’m gonna tell him you said that too,” Sam said.
“What! Noo!” You whined. 
“Too late. Gonna tell him at the party too. Make sure everybody hear it,” Sam said.
“Don’t do me like that.” You pouted but it was hard to keep a frown around the man. “Please?” 
“I might know a way to convince me not to tell,” Sam said.
You giggled, pretty sure you knew where this was going. “Oh yeah? What’s that?” 
“Let me taste them sweet lips,” he said. He leaned over, capturing your lips with his. You sighed into the kiss, melting completely. All Sam had to do was bat them perfect brown eyes and you were instantly gone, wanting and needing more. 
Sam pulled you completely into his lap, your legs settling on either side of his hips. You kissed for minutes or hours, you couldn’t tell. There was just the wet smack of your lips dueling with his. Of his tongue sliding against yours. Of his deep, satisfied hums as you made out. 
You began to squirm, getting worked up from his kisses alone. He rubbed your booty, from the top to the bottom. Cupping your ass in his strong hands. You moaned against him, helpless and incapable of not moving against him.
The more you squirmed, the more you felt him getting excited. His dick swelled beneath you and you moaned louder, wanting the promise that part of him delivered. Sam pulled back and lazily looked into your eyes.
“You ready for me?” He asked.
“You know I am,” you murmured, already diving down for more of him. He tasted faintly like coffee. His hands ventured higher, under your shirt, kneading the muscles in your lower back. 
Your whole body shivered as he zeroed in on pressure points. “I wish I could bottle these hands,” you moaned.
“No need to, you got me right here,” he said. He kissed along your jaw and your neck, swirling his tongue there. You giggled, pulling away. But you were in his lap and there was nowhere to go. 
Sam pulled your purple shirt - his purple shirt - off and his eyes widened to see that you were braless. He immediately suckled one of your nipples into his mouth. Your hands gripped his shoulders to steady yourself. Each suckle tugged on your pussy and you throbbed. You needed him so bad. 
Sam’s hands pulled your panties to the side to find you soaked. He moaned against your nipple. “Fuck,” he whispered. He moved to the other nipple, giving it the same attention while he lightly grazed your pussy.
You trembled on top of him. The dual sensations were driving you insane. You were so insatiable. You gyrated on top of him, taking your pleasure where he wanted to go slow. 
“Mhm, don’t wait for me,” he encouraged. You fucked yourself on his fingers, setting the pace and pressure with a swing of your hips. You were cumming before long. Sam stopped suckling your titties and just watched as you came undone on his fingers. 
“That’s it. Damn, you’re so beautiful when you cum. I just want to watch it over and over,” he whispered as you moaned and jerked. 
Keeping your panties to the side, Sam moved his boxer briefs down just far enough to free his dick. He moved the tip through your folds, getting it nice and wet before he plunged inside.
You gasped at the sudden fullness. A year of this and you still weren’t completely used to him. “That’s it, that’s the face I like,” Sam said. 
You released the air in choppy waves as you slid fully onto him, down to the hilt. You dropped your head onto his shoulder as he slowly moved you up and down. You helped, leaning up on your knees and then sinking back down.
Sam slowly fucked you, whispering how gorgeous you were, how lucky he was that he got to be in your presence, and how he would do everything in his power to protect you. Tears sprang to your eyes as you came once more, flooding his dick with your arousal. 
“Fuck, Sam. You feel so good. I’m the lucky one. I got to exist at the same time as you,” you whispered against his lips and sealed it with a kiss.
Sam groaned into the kiss as he released himself inside of you. The warm cum painted your insides. You moaned, feeling impossibly full. Still, he moved inside of you, his cum aiding him in sliding better. 
“Fuck, please, please, another,” he said.
He desperately chased your hips, speeding up inside of you. “Sam, Sam, Sam,” you moaned. Already, you felt your orgasm building up again. As if he called it up himself with every slap of his hips. 
Your arms were wrapped tight around his neck, holding on for dear life as he speared you with deep, desperate thrusts.
“C’mon little one,” he cooed.
That damn nickname. You exploded with a jerky gasp, clinging to him as your body floated above you. Bliss overwhelmed you. He rubbed your back but it was like you could and couldn’t feel it. You were too far gone, too lost to pleasure. 
As you floated down, Sam kissed you all over. Your breasts, your neck, your jaw, your lips, your cheek. There was no inch of your face that he didn’t kiss.
“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, it hurts,” he whispered.
“Sam..” You kissed him, passionately. Holding him to you. You were as close as two people could possibly get. Yet, you crushed him anyway. Held him close as if you could absorb him. 
“Take me upstairs,” you whispered in his ear.
“Yes, ma’am,” Sam said with a soft chuckle.
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Masterlist | Chapter 9 | Chapter 11
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creepercraftguy · 4 months
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Pokemon Scarlet/Violet - Voice Actor Headcanons (Teal Mask and Indigo Disk Edition)
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So, the version of this post I did for the main game turned out to be one of my all time most popular posts on this platform, and I'm honestly super happy about that. The majority of people seemed to really like the voices that I picked for each of the characters, and there were some fun discussions in the reblogs and comments.
So it was only a matter of time before I got around to doing the DLC characters, and now that Indigo Disc is finally out, better now than never. Pokemon obviously rarely has voice acting in the main series, so this is the next part of the series where I assign English VA's to each of the characters.
Before I get into this, there are a few points I need to reiterate, as I often do with these posts.
This is NOT CANON. These are HEADCANONS and are unofficial. It’s just a hypothetical situation. If the characters were voiced, this is who I imagine would voice them.
Every major character in the DLC is included here, so there are HEAVY SPOILERS for the game’s DLC storylines. DO NOT READ THIS POST IF YOU HAVE NOT PLAYED THE TEAL MASK OR INDIGO DISC OR DON’T WANT TO BE SPOILED.
This VA Headcanons post is SPECIFICALLY for the characters from Pokemon ScarVi's DLC. If you want to see the characters from the main game, the post is here.
As was the case with Nemona and Penny, it's highly likely that the characters will get official English VA's in Pokemon Masters. Remember that this post was constructed prior to this.
So without further ado, I hope you enjoy my ideas. Or don’t. Your choice.
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Kieran - JUSTIN BRINER
Also Voiced:
Deku/Izuku Midoriya (My Hero Academia)
Nico (Nanbaka)
Mikaela Hyakuya (Seraph of the End)
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Carmine - ANNE YATCO
Also Voiced:
Nobara Kugisaki (Jujutsu Kaisen)
Raiden Shogun (Genshin Impact)
Lola Metrose (The Hidden Dungeon Only I Can Enter)
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Briar - EMI LO
Also Voiced:
Ruan Mei (Honkai Star Rail)
Lucy (Cyberpunk Edgerunners)
Rena Ryuugu (Higurashi: When They Cry)
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Perrin - ERICA LINDBECK
Also Voiced:
Futaba Sakura (Persona 5)
Kaori Miyazono (Your Lie In April)
Celica (Fire Emblem)
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Cyrano - GABE KUNDA
Also Voiced:
Macaron (Hi-Fi Rush)
Rock Lock (My Hero Academia)
Shin Yasuda (Horimiya)
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Crispin - RICCO FAJARDO
Also Voiced:
Lemillion/Mirio Togata (My Hero Academia)
Kotaro Tatsumi (Zombie Land Saga)
Itona Horibe (Assassination Classroom)
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Amarys - KIRSTEN POTTER
Also Voiced:
Tae Takemi (Persona 5)
Hisame (Naruto)
Naomi Kimishima (Trauma Center)
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Lacey - CHRISTINE CABANOS
Also Voiced:
Mako Mankanshoku (Kill La Kill)
Chiaki Nanami (Danganronpa)
Silica (Sword Art Online)
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Drayton - ZENO ROBINSON
Also Voiced:
Junpei Iori (Persona 3 ReLoad)
Hawks (My Hero Academia)
Hunter (The Owl House)
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Billy - JOSHUA WATERS
Also Voiced:
Kyler (Class of '09)
Inu-Oh (Inu-Oh)
The Quadruplets (Tribe Nine)
O'Nare - KIRSTEN DAY
Also Voiced:
Constance (Fire Emblem Three Houses/Three Hopes)
Skipper (Barbie)
Kibutsuji's Wife (Demon Slayer)
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Snacksworth - MIKE POLLOCK
Also Voiced:
Dr. Eggman (Sonic the Hedgehog)
Adon (Berserk)
Professor Ochanomizu (Pluto)
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luvly-writer · 1 year
Text
“You are my sunshine”
Part 29: You are my safe heaven
——————————————-
Jason Todd x Latina! Reader
Social media Au
Warnings: Discussion of domestic violence and trauma
Status: Finished
Author’s note: Happy Valentine’s Day loves!! Here’s a chapter as a gift for you! ;)
Taglist: @lorosette @alecmores @halleest @izukuisbaby @randobeetlehouse @milas-teapot @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @unofficial-jaytodd-wife @graywrites5567 @addictedtothefictionalworld
Series mastelist:
——————————————-
“…Jay” she shakily whispered, placing her hands on his face. Her eyes watering again, this had been one hell of a fucking night
Jason nods, chest tense, how was she going to react to him
She takes one of her hands and peels his mask off, finally seeing his entire face. His green eyes looking back at her, uncertain, scared, vulnerable, unsure.
“Jay baby…..” she breathes out and he nods again. She is silent just taking him in and Jason swears he can feel his heart beating against his rib cage, will she be mad? Her silence was killing him.
Finally, she snaps out of her daze and jumps in him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and neck and hugging him tightly, he wraps his hands around her waist, breathing her in.
“You scared the living fuck out of me, pendejo!” She exclaimed, tears running down her cheeks again, “I thought.. I thought something had happened to you! Baby, please don’t EVER do that to me again!” She pulls back and places her forehead on his, “I don’t think I would have survived…I don’t know what I would have done, what would have happened if you were gone Jason! I was so scared…” she closed her eyes and mumbled the last pat shakily
Jason felt as if he could breathe again, she was more worried bout his safety that his secret
“What about you? The minute I saw those men bring you to Falcone, I promised B, I wouldn’t kill anymore but baby, I would have done anything to have you safe again!” He respond sternly
She hugged him once again, this time by the waist, lacing her head against his chest, right on top his heart, she needed to hear him alive and feel him breathe. And Jason? Oh he kept her in his arms, knowing that there was no where safer for her to be than here.
“I have so many questions though…” she mumbled in his chest and shivered a little
“I know preciosa, I know” he said as he took off his leather jacket and placed it around her, leaving him in his tight suit shirt only.
They stayed there a while, YN trying to process the night and Jason just enjoying his girlfriend’s presence
He breaks the silence, “how do you feel?”
He pulls her to one of the counter tables and searches the fridges for some water.
YN stared at the counter, the energy of her panic attack and the adrenaline of the moment finally leaving her, she went towards the sink and splashed water on her face trying to ground herself and dried herself with some of the paper towels. Most of her make up was gone by then.
She sat down and Jason handed her a glass filled with water. She let out a small laugh, “I’m getting some sort of deja by with this situation we find ourselves in hun, you handing me something to drink, standing across a counter, and asking me about a tense moment. This better not be the norm, mi amor, cause i don’t know how much my heart can take” she said referencing to the time they fixed things between them after the whole Artemis fiasco and the mixed feelings. Jason laughed, tension slightly leaving his shoulders. He leaned on the counter across her and placed his hand on her cheek, rubbing it softly. “Nah, baby girl, I don’t have any intentions of making a habit out of placing you in tight situations…that is, unless it is when you are underneath and moaning with pleasure” he says, winking at the end and laughing once he saw your face of exasperation.
“ I can’t believe you just said that as we are trying to talk out how we feel right now!” You say and he laughs harder
Raising his hands in surrender, he chuckles out, “hey, it’s how I cope!” And you laugh at that
Going back to the topic at hand, he holds you hands and interlocks your fingers with his, “but seriously princess, how are you?” He says looking at you with concern.
You shrug your shoulders and look up, “well, as good as you can be after getting triggered into a panic attack, grabbed, looked at as if I was a piece of meat, almost bought as eye candy by one of Gotham’s leading crime lords, and the finding out your boyfriend is a fucking vigilante, you know, a casual Saturday night. How are you?” You say and Jason’s concern deepens.
“You were having a panic attack before the men grabbed you?” He furrows his eyebrows as asks.
“Well….yeah” you tense up
“What triggered it?” He asks, knowing how shitty that can be after experiencing a fair amount of attacks once he came back to life.
She hesitated a little when she looked at his holster and looked down, “…the gun shots…” she mumbled and Jason tensed up
Sensing his inner turmoil she began to explain, knowing it was time he knew (after all, he did reveal his alter ego, the least she can do is offer the same amount of trust back)
“My father…he um, shit, this is a wound I haven’t opened in a while” she began and Jason immediately snapped his eyes to her and said, “you don’t have to tell me now, you can take your time, love, I’ll be right here, I’ll always be here” yet she raised her hand and said “no! I want to tell you, just give me some time to organize my thoughts” and at that, Jason stayed quite, giving her his full attention.
“My father was shitty as fuck” she snort out, “Heeeee would spend the majority of his time drinking, was never at home but when he was, well he spent his time watching pelota and well, hitting my mom and I” she continued and Jason tensed up, anger bubbling inside of him. He heard the comns open and was about to tell her but she continued, “He would constantly get mad about simple shit like me not washing one dish, or my mother not wanting to sleep in the same room as him and he would hit us, sometimes I didn’t even know why he was even mad, but I took the hits, because if it meant that they weren’t directed to my mother, then I’d be fine. Soon, shit hit the fan and my mom had enough so we ran away to our grandmas house. When we passed by to pick up our stuff, he threatened us with a gun. And that’s when it got even worst…cause we couldn’t even run away without him threatening to shoot us dead and as a way of intimation, he would shoot the walls. I would constantly slip away and hid at my neighbors house until shit had calmed down. Mostly when he had fallen asleep, my mom would come pick me up. One night, mom had enough and I heard a shot and her scream… I called my neighbors and told them to call the police, in return, she told me to record on my phone to have evidence. The motherfucker wasn’t getting out of there free…so I went downstairs and grabbed a bat, I managed to swing at him and knock the gun off his hand and surely distract him until the cops arrived. Kept him talking so that I’d have more to incriminate him in the recording….there he expressed that I was a waste of space and he wished I would have never been born and that he should have killed me when he had the chance when I was a baby, he had always said the first two but the last one was a new confession. Finally the cops arrived and they were able to shield my mom, but he had recovered the gun and held me captive in order to negotiate with the cops, he had the gun to my temple….thankfully, someone shot him with a tranquilizer and we were able to get out. I was 11 at the time. Not long after, he was sentenced to a lifetime in jail for domestic abuse on both my mother and I and attempted murder…some time after, my mother and I moved to Gotham for a fresh start and I started going to therapy. Guns made me nervous and shots triggered me, but in time, I was able to over come it, I mean, we live in Gotham of all places, shots are heard the majority of the time….but, I didn’t think it would trigger me again since it had been a long time….” she finally finished, a distant look in her eyes.
Jason felt his heart squeeze in his chest. He knew what it was like to have an abusive father as well, and hated the fact that it was an experience he shared with his girlfriend. He walked around the counter and brought her to his arms, tightly squeezing her, “I am so so so sorry that happened to you, mi Vida, if I could, I would hunt the motherfucker down and get rid of the bastard myself, you never EVER deserved that. Neither did your mother. I know how it feels like, unfortunately, seeing as I also grew up with an abusive father before Bruce found me, so I understand baby” he said reassuringly and the girl relaxed in his arms, feeling safe once again and relieved that she finally was able to open up about that to him.
“Do you use real bullets?” She mumbled and Jason tensed up
“No, dove, not anymore, they are rubber bullets, you can thank B for that” he answered
“….ok” she said, nuzzling into him.
The rest of the Batfam had heard her story, hearts heavy in their chest now that they knew that the girl that had brought so much joy to their lives had gone through such horrible thing at a young age.
Bruce interrupted the silence by speaking into the comns, “Hood, take YN to the cave. Robin, Nightwing and I are finished here and we have to leave before the GCPD get here. Spoiler, Black Bat, Signal, finish dispatching the rest and head back to the cave. We have a lot to discuss.”
YN heard that and look up at him. You whisper, “did they hear everything?!?!” And Jason nods, looking apologetically and whispers back, “I was going to warn you but you were too involved in talking” he smiled sheepishly.
You laugh softly, too tired to argue and nod understandably.
Finally, Jason, clicked on the comns and said, “Copy that, B”
The comns finally closed and it finally clicked, “Is B for Batman or Bruce!?!?! IS BRUCE BATMAN!?!?” HAVE I BEEN MAKING FUN OF BRUCE THIS ENTIRE TIME ON TWITTER!?!?!?”
That was all it took to make Jason nod and double up with laughter because he knows the type of shit Nola and you have written. There have been many times where his siblings and he had used your tweets to make fun of Bruce.
He put his mask on and his helmet, and led her out through the back. Thankfully, most of the people had left and they were able to get in his car undetected.
The ride back was quiet and yn had fallen asleep, finally waking up when Jason parked on the garage of Wayne Manor.
There was a long ass conversation waiting for them.
___________________________________
<3
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indierpgnewsletter · 3 months
Text
New Games From December 23 and January 24
I. Dear Reader Another regularly scheduled roundup of games that have been released on itch.io that caught my eye over the last two months. Usual disclaimer that I haven’t really read or played these games; they just seem cool based on the pitch alone. Also, most of them now come to me by people using this form.
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Protect the Child: A Forged in the Dark game about monsters caring for a strange, mystical child. Playtest version. (Mintrabbit, Free)
Aftermath: A solo-friendly sci-fi about a team of first responders trying to make the world a better place after a terrible war. (Ember and Ash)
Space Aces: Voyages in Infinite Space: A comedy scifi sandbox inspired by the Hitchhikers’ Guide. (Stephen Hans)
The Connection Machine: A cerebral scifi game about exploring a dreamlike world and overcoming trauma. (Tanya Floaker & Julia Nevalainen)
Daybreak on the Battlefield: An unofficial set of extra playbooks for Girl by Moonlight, the excellent magical girls game. (Ben K Rosenbloom)
Buried in Ice: A mystery for Apocalypse Keys, the Hellboy-inspired PbtA game. Something trapped in a glacier thaws out and causes havoc. (Morgan Eilish)
Boyfriend Dungeon: Life on the Edge: The videogame gets officially adapted into a PbtA game. Explore your inner psyche, confront you fears, and also smooch swords. (Trumoi)
Like Real People Do: A two-player prompt-driven game about a mage trying to keep secrets in a vault but the vault wants to be a real person. (Meghan Cross)
The Mystery Business: Scooby Doo-inspired mystery solving game with no combat. You beat the baddies by setting traps to catch them. (Greg L)
The Flood Bell Tolls in Saint Magnus: A system-neutral campaign set in a drowning city on the verge of rebellion. (Tempest RPG, PWYW)
Also, cheeky last minute addition, the Showcase Zero bundle features games that came out of my playtest community. It’s got my scifi horror game, This Ship Is No Mother, as well as the mecha game of friendship and war, Spectres of Brocken and more.
II. Media of the Week
People Make Games take a good look at jubensha, a gaming phenomenon in China that started out just as spiffy murder mystery party games but has transformed into much more, including what sounds like scripted larps where everyone cries at the end. Really cool story.
youtube
The new season of DiceExploder is back with John Harper talking about Psi*Run, a unique game by Meguey Baker that should’ve inspired a slew of games but inexplicably didn’t.
Please consider joining 100+ other patrons and support the newsletter on patreon to help keep me going.
If you’ve released a new game on itch.io this month, let me know through this form so I can potentially include it in the end of the month round-up.
III. Links of the Week
Reviews
Indie Game Reading Club reviews Stonetop, the community-focused iron age fantasy game from Jeremy Strandberg.
It’s a solid review and also features this neat bit of analysis about how PbtA developed: “Monsterhearts spawned the branch of PbtA games that are concerned with constrained, evocative moves with a strong editorial voice. Dungeon World, conceived as a reverse-engineering of Dungeons & Dragons style play, is concerned with efficiently resolving tasks, boiling down the activity to its core essence.”
Cannibal Halfling reviews Free League’s vanilla-ish fantasy game, Dragonbane: “…when we live in the world of Old-School Essentials (also a translation, though from Gygax to English instead of Swedish to English), there’s clearly recognized value in taking an old system, cleaning it up, and sending it back out.”
Explore Beneath and Beyond has a blog series reviewing and discussing all the early adventures and scenarios published for D&D. This is part one.
Possum Creek Games publish their 2023 year in review including completing the mammoth Yazeba’s Bed and Breakfast.
DIY & Dragons explains why we should all probably stick to calling it “Jaquaysing”.
A short post about the oldest ttrpg forums – usenet groups.
Misc
ZineMonth 2024 is around the corner and since the “official” site isn’t ready yet, there’s an unofficial” page listing all the projects being crowdfunded. Take a look and submit your own if you’re doing one.
There’s a game jam to create a megadungeon in honour of Jennell Jaquays.
From the archive
Skerples’ cool blog post about how to portray aliens and alien intelligences in your game, approaching it from a bunch of different angles. (Issue #8, Sep 2020)
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thereisnolumos · 5 months
Note
If I could rewrite harry potter series: Neville so should have been the third member of the golden trio and Draco the unofficial fourth member that goes through a redemption arc and becomes the fourth one by the end of book 6th and all of 7th. Harry should have gotten with Luna, I'm fine with Dramione canonically because it makes more sense writing wise than dumb ron( I would love drarry, but that would be a up hill battle) Ron should be the school bully that gets worse and worse. Or just not exist period. All houses should have been part of the D.A. Slytherin house over all redemption arc because they're kids/tweens/teenagers! Plus over all that's just a better strategy war wise. Ginny gets a girlfriend/boyfriend and gets over crush over Harry over all.
I like your version❤️
If I was writing the rewrite style fanfic, first and foremost I’d start with Sirius raising Harry. Will never get over how many plot holes are in his entire character arc, especially getting wrongfully imprisoned WHEN THEY HAVE MIND READING AND TRUTH POTION
Anyway, Sirius is raising Harry, and, because their parents were in the Order together and the trauma is so similar for Sirius and Augusta in their losses, Harry and Neville grow up together, besties forever, soul brothers, the whole thing. They even celebrate birthdays together, having them one right after the other (it’s my dear headcanon that they were born a minute apart, but it so happened that the day was new when Harry was born)
They meet Hermione on the train, when she volunteers to help find Trevor (Trevor is the beloved Disney-style comic relief sidekick, I’m telling you). Without needing to hold onto Ron, Harry doesn’t brush her off immediately as annoying, Neville is incapable of being such an asshole on principal, but they don’t become instant friends, because Harry and Neville do have the mentality of “we don’t need anyone knew”, being slightly (a lot😂) codependent from having each other constantly near their entire lives. I’d leave them becoming friends after the troll attack, because she was their all alone because of Ron’s assholish remarks after she genuinely tried to help him. So I’d leave this canon moment, but have Harry and Neville be completely disgusted with Ron over what he said about her, especially Harry because Remus was a big part of his life (I’m not really a Wolfstar shipper, though I don’t have anything against them, but in my fic they wouldn’t be together, and there would be an exploration of their mutual hurt over the other one believing each were a traitor. But he’d still be an uncle Moony, as it was supposed to be), so someone shaming the person for having knowledge and HELPING??? Harry would be enraged
They also both would already know Draco, having grown up in the same world, and most likely in similar circles. To me, Sirius was against pureblood mania, not against the social circles and connections and all that. And because all three Harry, Neville and Draco belong to the same circles, they’d know each other and I imagine them mostly like frenemies, growing from enemies to friends more and more with years.
Slytherins would absolutely be a more flashed out characters, not just cardboard “bad guys”, and some of them would be in DA (so it wouldn’t be called DA, because Sirius that didn’t go to Azkaban would see right through Dumbledore and how he tried to orchestrate Harry’s life despite having no right to do so, and he’ll be damned if he’d let Harry be at all enamored by this manipulative old fuck). I would also add muggleborns bringing in muggle weapons into the discussion because “I see your bombarda and I raise you my bazooka😈”. I’d want to explore how both worlds can benefit from inventions of the other one (not just in weaponry)
Also, I don’t remember right now the name of the person who first brought up this au here on Tumblr, but I would absolutely include Cassius Warrington being chosen as Hogwarts champion in Triwizard Tournament. Because I can’t stop thinking about THE POTENTIAL and all the possibilities of this for years, ever since I first saw it
It would absolutely be Dramione and Hansy. Dramione is just incomparable and beyond everything else, Hansy is my most beloved Harry ship, I absolutely adore them. But I would explore all the shades of Harry-disastrous bisexual-Potter too😏
I haven’t decided who’d I pair Neville with though. I don’t like his ship with Luna (in my mind Luna and Blaise belong to each other, I have no idea how it started, but once it did -it never stopped), so she’s not an option.
Maybe I should write this😅 Scenes from this fic have been living in my head rent-free for half a year by now, if not longer…
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dr-jem-nutcase · 1 year
Text
And some more MvA H/Cs!
Dr. Cockroach
istg, I have WAY too many h/c's for this guy
Birthday is August 19th
Was in his early 30s when his mutation accident happened
Could never figure out how to tie a necktie, try as he might. Someone has always had to do it for him if he has to wear one. Kind of explains the turtleneck
A sore loser inspite of calling Link out for being one
Kicks in his sleep if he had a bad day
Can understand insects due to being part insect. He understands Insecto better than Link does, but the two insectoid monsters don't associate with each other that often
Thinks of himself as much of a human as much as he thinks of himself of a cockroach
Doesn't talk much about his pre-monster life. He doesn't think anyone needs to know about it. Though, the Invisible Man had suspicions that he probably wasn't single at the time of his accident
"Jacques-Yves" is a pseudonym to cover up his former name. Dude hasn't mentioned his former name ever, like after 40+ years of imprisonment. Only Monger knows what it is [Disclaimer: I have a very hard time counting the TV series as canon material, so I'm leaving "Herbert" out of this one]
Has a younger sister who's still alive (he found this out about 4 months after gaining his freedom), but he hasn't made any attempts to make contact with her, knowing it probably wouldn't be a good idea because of the high probability that she thinks her brother's long dead instead of alive and part cockroach
Grew up in a middle class home. His airs of elegance and sophistication came from the upbringing of his formerly lower-upper class mother
Conducted research at a university in the UK, probably Cambridge or Oxford, and tried to carry out his mutation enhancement experiments inspite of faculty saying no. Was dismissed when he got caught. Continued his experimentation in the basement/cellar of his home
Liked the beatnik fashion and got a bit into it no thanks to some students at the university. Still likes it
Was caught about week after his accident when he took the risk of going outside where he was "ratted out" by a few bystanders
Legit went insane after his capture. He was kept in isolation for about a week, and descended into madness much more quickly than the average human because he was part cockroach, not to mention the trauma of being taken away from everything he knew on top of dealing with the trauma from his accident. Being around the other monsters helped in recovering his sanity but he could never fully recover, explaining the maniacal laughter and mad science tendencies
Isn't immortal. His physical stamina by age was cut in half at his accident. Was in his early 30s at the time, so he went from having the stamina of someone in their early 30s to someone in their mid teens. Released in his mid-late 70s and had the stamina of an 38-year-old
Hates the cold, being part cockroach. Not as much as Link but he has a lower cold tolerance than the average human and thus needs to bundle up more when doing missions in colder climates
Likes making cocktails and alcoholic beverages but gets easily tipsy tho. He was the unofficial bartender at most small social gatherings in his human years
Declined a knighthood from the Queen
Has met other scientists like Hawking and deGrasse Tyson
Has started spending a good deal of his free time compiling his findings and whatnot on the aliens and/or UFOs that have tried to invade Earth into a multi-volume series of books
Link
Captured 1960, has been in prison longer than any of the current monsters
Birthday is somewhere guesstimated about late winter/early spring
First day in prison and wanted to take down the toughest guy in the yard. Fought for about a minute with a couple staff members/scientists until he was tranquilized. Both parties sustained injuries, but Link considered himself to be the victor, even to this day. Even his butt was kicked to kingdom come, Link would say otherwise
Began learning English, let alone how to speak, when the Invisible Man came (similar to Jane teaching Tarzan in the Disney cartoon)
Can actually understand Insectosaurus
Earned his enthusiasm in martial arts watching the martial arts films and TV shows over the years
Closeted shonen anime fan, likes pretty much anything except One Piece
Likes to think of himself as a leader in spite of Susan usually leading the team and by instinct has that alpha male mindset, though really nobody was the alpha in prison. No inferiority complex. He will never admit defeat in a one-on-one fight
Was the third in a litter of seven "tadpoles" in his family and was pretty much a wannabe in his time, from his childhood to his adult years
Journeyed onto land to try to show how much of a hardcore boss he was. Right at the start of the Ice Age. Thus is his "frozen" origin
The only monster who doesn't like chocolate
Has never missed a Super Bowl since he first got a TV (an occasional treat)/radio. And cursed be the day when someone decides to change the channel/station on Super Bowl Sunday
Started calling Susan "Susie" and "Suz" a couple months after defeating Gallaxhar, when she started becoming closer friends with the rest of the monsters. He's the only monster who calls her that
Along with the artificial mini lagoon, his share of the remodel includes his own private gym. Before that, he had to borrow weights from the prison's gym
Has a private resort mansion near Cocoa Beach in Florida complete with a large pond to swim in and a couple specially made cars (like the jeep in the TV show). Complimentary babes on request (jk, lol, if only)
As a fish-ape-man, he and Monger saw him as a potential candidate for serving in the Navy and started training within a year of being granted his freedom. He managed to survive Hell Week after almost quitting due to his cold intolerance (it's already a given that he hates cold environments), but he'd rather freeze his butt off than give up
Has watched Shape Of Water and Luca. He doesn't mind either of them but he got pretty annoyed when people made comparisons between him and the Amphibian Man or the cutesy sea monsters
BOB
Came in 1968 [franchise brochure or h/c, I don't remember]
Makes up flashbacks of his past. The trauma with carrots in Night of the Living Carrots? Totally made up! But he fully believes in them, and there's no changing his mind
"Monster Beach is real." [from the video game] Do not question that
Doesn't get hungry. He's given the ham just to keep him out of everyone else's meals
Not completely derp stupid. Has the mental capacity of a toddler. If there's any stupidity, there's some dumb blonde stupid, like "'taco' is the Mexican word for 'sandwich'"
Has remnants of the mind-reading "bomb" still in his body, explaining his habit of picking up dialog and behavior from the other monsters
The monsters (and Monger) need to watch their language around him because, like a toddler, he will repeat swear words like a parrot and go around saying them mindlessly. They also can't watch adult movies or shows around him for that same reason; he'll also ask inappropriate questions as a result of being exposed to those type of movies and shows
Can befriend just about anyone. He would probably try to get along with the Devil himself. Only under the condition that nobody hurts his beloved monster family
Insectosaurus
Came in the late 60s/early 70s, not too long after BOB's Big Break
Will live for probably another 50 years. At least
Female. The larva of her species looks the same regardless of gender, leading nearly everyone to believe that Insecto was a male
Ate a lot as a larva. Doesn't eat as much since her metamorphosis
Her moth fur is ridiculously soft
Smarter than what a lot of people think
Easily skittish with loud unexpected noises. She also doesn't like it at all when any of the monsters argue
A deep sleeper after returning to the facility after any mission
Still very much likes her tummy rubs from Link
A deep sleeper, especially after returning to the prison facility after a mission
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Text
20 questions for fic writers
Thanks for tagging me @daddygrandpaandthebeaver yesterday and thanks for the tag today from @babsvibes
1. How many works do you have on AO3?
46, about to be 47
2. What’s your total word count?
236,929
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Bob’s Burgers
I am slowly working on some WWDITS fic as well, but so far nothing has been posted.
I used to write for HP and my work can still be found on ao3.
4. Top 5 fics by kudos
Not counting my co-written fics (because I feel like that doesn’t count since I didn’t write all of it and one of them is a posted RP)
Take a Walk With Me
I Like That Sweater On You
Now I’ve Got It, Do I Want It?
That Over-Hyped Corporate Holiday
Gawky
Just for fun, since all my top fics are HP (I wrote for that fandom longer) I here’s my top Bob’s Burgers fics by kudos!
Wrong
Where You Belong
This Never Happened
Love, Your Sailor
Rainy Day
5. Do you respond to comments?
I try to respond to every single one! I really really appreciate the support from the people who read my fics and a lot of them tend to be mutuals here on tumblr, so it’s nice to know that the people I interact with pretty much daily are enjoying what I put out.
6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Never Wanna Say Goodbye
For how much angst I love to write, I hate unhappy endings. This one is ambiguous, I’d say it’s the angstiest ending, even if it’s not the angstiest fic I’ve written. I think.
7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Never Too Old for a Bedtime Story
In a Lifetime
Probably. I don’t know, my opinion changes a lot. If you would have asked me months ago, I would have had a different answer. These two have endings that make me happy personally, so I choose these.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Yes. Unfortunately this was common while I was part of the HP fandom and one of the reasons I stopped writing and updating several of my fics. I usually delete the worst ones before they even get posted because I have comment moderation on all of the HP fics left on ao3 now. The people in that fandom seem to be very particular about their fics. I don’t want to start discourse or create drama, but I will say that I realized that, especially after TikTok and the marauders fandom exploded, my fics had to meet some kind of invisible standard in order to be considered “good” (aka atyd standard) and it feels as if readers come to expect your work to read like a published for profit book you can buy at Barnes and Noble. Considering you’re not paying me to write fanfiction and I do it not as a career but as a hobby in my limited free time, I don’t think that’s a very fair expectation.
I have never once gotten a hate comment on a single one of my Bob’s Burgers fics though.
9. Do you write smut?
Yes! As an ace person who is generally sex-repulsed when it comes to their own body, this is mostly how I experience it. I know it’s not always everybody’s favorite thing, so I don’t write it into every fic, but my characters do tend to be very sexual (For personal reasons I don’t want to get into my past, though I do want to make it clear that I am not ace because of it, I don’t want anybody thinking trauma leads to asexuality) but I do enjoy both writing and reading a good smut scene.
10. Do you write crossovers?
Not typically. I can’t never figure out how to do it write. Sometimes I’ll write fic based in the universe of another fandom, but I wouldn’t consider that a crossover.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Not to my knowledge
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Nope!
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Yes, back in my HP days my best fandom friend and I co-wrote a series of Snupin fics based on songs from the Lumineers. Another one was an rp from discord that me and my rp partner at the time posted. Other than that, no I have not.
14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?
Tedmort
Obviously, since I am the (unofficial) tedmort CEO, what did you expect? 😉
15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?
The Lupin-Snape Family Shitshow (title not permanent)
There is no real title for this because I affectionally have been calling it that since I started writing back in 2021. I wanted as much written as possible before I began posting to ao3, so that’s 77k already written for this mamma jamma! This is a Snupin fic in which Snape and Lupin became best friends after the war, married other people, and ended up cheating on their partners and falling in love.
I doubt I’ll ever finish it, even though I am still very interested in it and really love what I’ve written so far. Unfortunately, I don’t know how well the fandom would accept it (due to the ships and themes of infidelity) and I do not write for the HP fandom any longer. I haven’t even opened this fic since March 2022.
16. What are your writing strengths?
I think I write dialogue fairly well. I come up with some good, interesting ideas even if they don’t get posted. Im good at one shots and the one scene sort of thing - I’m a decent short form writer.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
I struggle with connecting the dots between scene a lot, which is why I write a lot of one shots and drabbles. Those are the scenes I wanted to write and if I connect them together, I could make an entire story but I struggle with writing the parts that go in between.
Which is also why I have a hard time finishing longer works because I’ll write the “good stuff” first and struggle with making it into a coherent story that makes sense.
Another weakness is my adhd brain losing interest after I’ve posted a few chapters of a fic and then suddenly never feeling motivated to continue again.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?
I use google translate because most of the languages I use, I don’t have fandom friends who speak it (to my knowledge?) which can be really tricky and can make things sound off to people who do speak that language.
I can only read, write, and speak in English, unfortunately, so on occasion I’ll write words or phrases into English sentences but not full dialogue.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
Twilight, though I only posted one fic in 2009 to Fanfiction.net
Followed by Glee, which is when I actually started writing fanfiction for realsies. Up until that point, I had mostly written original fiction and never posted online.
20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?
If you asked me before I joined the burger fandom…it would have been this one: That over-hyped Corporate Holiday And this awful crack fic that I still adore, years later for whatever reason: Dicked Down in Divination Feat. Severus Snape
But in all serious, this question was really hard. Maybe this isn’t the best work I’ve ever done and maybe I didn’t take ages to perfect it, but it makes me happy. It’s so sweet and I still adore the idea of mortuary student Mort and Navy sailor Teddy meeting in their twenties.
Love, Your Sailor
I’m not tagging anyone because most of the people I’d tag have already been tagged! But if you weren’t please do this I want to see all of your answers!!
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little situation | part 16.
Summary: For years, HYDRA had been trying to use the samples of Steve’s DNA to make another super-soldier. They finally succeed and when S.H.I.E.L.D. breaks her out, Cap is forced to come face to face with his kid and figure out parenting on an Avengers’ lifestyle.
Warnings: maybe potential childhood trauma but nothing really
Pairing: Steve Rogers x blackdaughter!reader, avengers x child!reader, peter parker x black!reader
Word Count: 2.6k
Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)
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“Hey, Peter Parker. Where’s Ned?” You asked when you sat down at the cafeteria.
True to her word, Michelle was several seats away again. You had seen Ned in first period robotics but now he was nowhere to be found and you knew Peter had most classes with him. Peter chuckled as you said both his names.
“He got hurt last period, the nurse sent him home.”
“Aww, poor Ned… we shouldn’t start the set without him.”
Peter agreed but that left the two of you with no afternoon plans now. And since decathlon didn’t meet on Wednesdays and Fridays, you guys had plenty of time after school.
“You know, I’ve never seen most of New York.”
“What? Really?” Peter looked shocked.
“I was here once when I was twelve and aside from school, I don’t leave the compound.”
“That’s it then! After school, we tour New York. I’ll show you all the best places.”
Flash Thompson sat down next to you before you could say anything else. You jumped as he put his arm around your shoulder.
“Can you please not do that?”
Flash removed his arm but didn’t rid his face of the smile he had been wearing since he strolled over. He drummed the table for a minute before speaking.
“A bunch of us are going to the mall after school. You should come.”
“I’m sorry, training,” you lied a little too smooth that it should be worrying.
Flash nodded in understanding. “They ever give you a free day?”
“Not until I’m a full Avenger, honestly. The hour you guys have for decathlon is about it.”
“Bummer, well, whenever you sneak away the offer always stands to come with us. Especially when you get tired of this loser. Why do you even sit here? I’ll catch you at our practice.” Flash winked. “Bye Sarah. Penis Parker.”
Peter scoffed and then gave you a look when he noticed you snickering. You apologized, still giggling and Peter rolled his eyes before getting up and pulling you to your next class. When school ended, true to his word, Peter became an unofficial tour guide. He said there was absolutely no way to see every single thing he wanted to show you of New York but it was absolutely necessary that you see Manhattan.
You had never been on public transport that wasn’t the buses of DC so the subway was a new feeling. A feeling you weren’t sure you liked after seeing the subway and the strangeness on it. You sat a bit close to Peter as more people packed into your subway car. You were overwhelmed when you stepped out of the subway station and into the main street.
“You good?”
“Lot of people.”
“Yeah, it’s Manhattan. Hand?”
Peter held out an upturned hand that you gladly accepted. First stop, the Empire State Building. Peter huffed as you chose to run up the stairs of the building when one of the employees said people could try it if they dared. Most of the tourists gave up and went back to a floor with elevators but you didn’t. You turned around as you picked up on his heavy breathing and ran back down a few flights to meet him.
“Want a lift?”
Peter eyed you skeptically, the two of you were almost the same height.
“I can lift a whole car, I don’t think you’re much of a problem.”
You were right. Peter wasn’t much of a problem at all. You set him down when you guys reached the observation deck. It was so pretty when you looked out. You pulled out your phone and flipped to the front camera.
“I wanna send a picture to my dads.”
Peter felt like the bottom of his face was going to fall off with the amount of selfies you took, deleting each one because you didn’t like how they looked. After spending a few more minutes looking, you guys took the elevator down.
“Where to next?” you asked as you sent a picture you thought was decent.
“Greenwich Village, Washington Square Park. And then Broadway, back to Times Square, and home.”
He held out his hand again which you dramatically slapped your hand into before interlacing your fingers and letting him lead the way. You stopped at Starbucks, the one thing you were familiar with, and headed to the park.
“I’m sure you recognize this from Friends.”
“From what?”
“Fr— have you not seen that show? It’s old, six people basically live together and navigate New York and their lives together… no?”
“You mean Living Single?” Sam had forced you and Steve to watch it, not that you were complaining after a couple of episodes.
“Living what?”
“Peter Parker! Have you never seen Living Single?”
“You’ve never seen Friends!”
“… Show swap? You watch Living Single and I’ll watch Friends.”
“Deal.”
Your phone vibrated as you guys hopped onto the edge of the fountain and started walking along it, while talking about nothing in particular. It was a text from the family group chat— the smaller family one that was just you, Steve, Sam, and Bucky.
“Um, my family wants to meet my friends before my dads leave tomorrow… Do you want to come over for dinner?”
“Let me text Aunt May and ask if it’s fine.”
You and Peter finished your drinks and headed towards Broadway.
“Hamilton?” You looked at the brassy doors with an interesting silhouette on it.
“Yeah. Was off-broadway for a while, just opened up here at the end of summer. It’s supposed to be really good, the soundtrack isn’t bad.”
“We should see it.”
“Do you know how expensive tickets are?”
“When’s your birthday?”
“Already passed.”
“Then it’s a late birthday present, we should see it… what?”
“You don’t have to keep spending your money on—”
“It’s Uncle Tony’s money and I don’t have anything else to spend it on. I want to… unless it makes you feel weird, I don’t have to.”
“No, it’s fine. I just don’t want you to think Ned and I are friends with you because of money and stuff. It’s not like that all.”
“So, Hamilton?”
“I guess we can see Hamilton.”
You smiled and texted Steve about going to see the show when he and Sam came back. Peter and you finished his mini tour before waiting where Steve told you to wait at Grand Central. You clambered into the backseat with Peter so he wouldn’t feel awkward. You eyed Steve when he looked at you in the rearview but didn’t say much besides a hello. He didn’t say it but you knew that Peter’s upcoming interrogation was going to be with the whole family and Bucky was arguably about to be the worst one.
“You kids do your homework?”
“Not yet,” you answered.
“First thing while we work on dinner.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” You mocked saluted Steve making Peter laugh. Steve rolled his eyes.
“Is that funny?” Steve put on a serious voice and poor Peter went red.
“No, no, sir. Mr. Captain Amer—”
“I’m just messing with ya, Queens.”
“Dheaidí!”
“Just having fun, Babydoll.”
You pulled up into the compound and Peter looked at it in awe. Like you said, he had to be security detailed including FRIDAY saving his biometrics in the system. Steve waited with you guys while Peter got checked and began explaining the compound as he led the boy inside. Of course, none of it really mattered since Peter couldn’t get onto most floors without you or another Avenger/S.H.I.E.L.D. agent being with him.
“We’re back and I’ve got two teens in tow!” Steve yelled into the apartment.
He had taken the elevator directly to your floor once reaching the residential areas to avoid Peter being overwhelmed by the entire team. Following you and Steve’s lead, Peter took his shoes off at the door and slipped on one of the guest slippers that you had pointed out. Bucky and Sam waved to Peter and you started to head to your room.
“We’re gonna do homework and then the TV’s ours, we have some serious show watching to do.”
You pointed to where Bucky was half watching the news while reviewing agents’ training records— he took up training them while he was being placed on leave. Grabbing Peter’s hand you directed him to the hallway. Holding his hand was the wrong move as all three men noticed and Sam proceeded to yell.
“Door open!”
You groaned in embarrassment. “We’re not even doing anything. What if I said I was gay?”
“Great, door still open.”
“You guys are embarrassing!”
You yelled as you led Peter down the hall. He didn’t say anything but just took out his books. Peter looked around and noticed you didn’t have a desk. You told him that he could just sit on the bed since that was where you did all your work. You both snapped the textbooks shut when finished and walked back into the living room where you were satisfied to see the TV was already free— because Bucky was not about to argue over the TV with his niece when he knew he would lose, cause Sam would take your side immediately just to bug him and then Steve would be swayed as well.
“Want a popsicle?” you asked Peter as you walked to the kitchen.
“You two are going to ruin your appetite.”
“Never stopped you from letting me have popsicles before dinner,” you brought up the first year of living with Steve.
“It’s like that, Sarah?”
“Just like that.”
Steve playfully glared at you while opening the freezer door and handing you two popsicle tubes. You and Peter sat on the couch, not terribly close in order to avoid anyone saying something to embarrass you again, while eating the popsicles and trying to figure out which show to watch first. Eventually, you settled on one episode of each show at a time starting with Friends.
The three men watched from the kitchen as you and Peter laughed while watching the TV. It was good you had someone your age to be around. They looked forward to meeting MJ and Ned as well. Peter seemed like a good kid and yes, Bucky might have been assessing him from the moment he stepped into the apartment. He didn’t sense anything bad, a lot of nervous energy but nothing bad.
“Alright kids, dinner’s up.”
Peter nervously answered all of the questions thrown at him until your family was satisfied that their initial assessment of him being a good kid was correct. Dinner finished and the two of you returned to the couch for two more episodes before Peter left to go home.
You showed up to decathlon practice the next day with smoothies for everyone since you had one. They were all surprised— including Mr. Harrington who definitely didn’t expect one— as you handed them out. Flash lingered as you handed one to him, you were wondering when he’d move on from whatever crush or infatuation or whatever it was. But he wasn’t mean or pushy so you didn’t say anything.
“Didn’t expect you to be here,” Ned said.
“Yeah, you weren’t at the table.” Michelle took her smoothie.
You had skipped to spend the day with Steve and Sam since they didn’t leave on their mission till the end of the school day. The school was fairly understanding when Steve called to inform them that you wouldn’t be in for the day. But you still wanted to go to decathlon practice— their quizzing was surprisingly nice background noise while you did homework. And more importantly, you really wanted to start on the Hogwarts Express set now that Ned was back and feeling better. When the team was given a small break, you whispered to Peter and Ned.
“I finished the suit.”
“No way, really.”
“Yep, got the helmet done this morning. We gotta find time for you to see it. Uncle Tony hates the color combo.”
“What is it?”
“Pink and silver.”
You laughed as both boys scrunched their noses and then tried to backtrack and say the colors were cute. Practice continued and like usual, you made your way with the boys to Peter’s house. Aunt May was pleased to hear you could stay for dinner especially since Peter had been over the day before.
~~
You and Nat attempted to get Wanda into the dance studio but after ten minutes and lots of complaints, Wanda bowed out to go back to normal training. Natasha was glad you had forced her back into the studio. It was pleasant and she enjoyed the discipline that came with the one to two hours you guys spent there. Well, partial discipline. By the end, you two would put on music that didn’t match classical ballet at all and dance however you wanted. Bucky stepped into the studio, phone in hand.
“Your dad’s calling,” he said as he turned the phone to face you showing the picture of Steve on it.
Steve and Sam had been keeping good to their twice a week calls. Although sometimes they could only manage one during the school day and when you weren’t free, causing a bit of frustration for you when you couldn’t answer and couldn’t get in contact for the rest of the day. You and Nat stopped for the day and you took the phone from Bucky, following him back upstairs to the apartment.
“Uncle Jamie?” you asked once you hung up the phone.
“Yes?”
“Can I go to Peter’s on Friday?”
“You know you can… what’s the catch?”
“Can I sleep over?”
“Sarah—”
“We’re just friends, you wouldn’t care if he was a girl. And don’t say it’s cause we’re straight cause if I brought home MJ and said she was a lesbian you would still say okay. Please?”
Bucky sighed. “I wasn’t going to say that, kid, although you’re right. I was going to say your nightmares.”
“Haven’t been that bad since we started going to Wakanda, Shuri said so herself.”
“But you still have them… if I say yes, are you going to be okay?”
You nodded and gave him a hug, saying thank you and running to your room before Bucky could change his mind— him yelling about the fact that you still had to leave Peter’s early in the morning to fly to Wakanda. You packed a bag that waited patiently in the corner of your room until Friday rolled around.
Ned couldn’t stay for dinner so it was just you and Peter. You both sat on the bottom bunk of his bed, cross-legged and facing each other, for a game of twenty questions. You tossed a Rubik’s Cube back and forth, each person solving it when it was their turn to talk.
“Do you feel anything when they brainwash you?” Peter asked, hesitantly, as he tossed the cube to you. He was curious but didn’t want to upset you either.
“Honestly, no. It’s like I don’t even exist in my own body. All the damage gets done later.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It is what is.”
You pushed a blonde braid out of your face and tossed the cube back to him asking about how he came to live with his aunt. When the game finished, Peter left so you could shower and change before coming back in and doing the same. You climbed up to the empty top bunk and he threw up a pillow and blanket. Turning off the light, Peter walked back to the bottom bunk and flopped down on it himself.
“Too bad you can’t come on the field trip tomorrow.”
“You should ditch the field trip and come with me and Uncle Jamie. Wakanda’s science lab is so much cooler than Columbia University’s.”
“But do they have super spiders?” Peter said in a funny voice, making you guffaw.
“No… but have you ever seen a war rhino?”
Peter sat up abruptly, almost hitting his head on the bunk. “War rhinos?”
You laughed and ignored him asking about the war rhinos. “I’m taking my hearing aids out now. Goodnight, Peter Parker.”
“Goodnight, Sarah Rogers.”
You could hear the slight mocking but light-hearted tone in his voice and could picture him giving a fake salute. You took out your hearing aids and grabbed the bag that lay at your feet on the bed. You placed the hearing aids in the front pocket and took out a mouth guard. It wasn’t something you wanted but you didn’t explain the nightmares— you weren’t comfortable yet doing that. So you bit down on the mouth guard and hoped that if you had a nightmare it would muffle any screams.
(Part 17)...
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cw: mentions (off screen) child neglect/abuse
"Don't," Harry said without looking up, words coming out muffled against the sleeve of his jumper. He shouldn't have been surprised that Draco found him here, sitting at the end of the pier, knees against his chest as he stared out over the lake.
Draco sat down next to him, heat radiating from his body, "I haven't even said anything yet," he said, feet dangling over the edge.
He shook his head, he could feel Draco's eyes on him but would be damned if he looked over at him. Every thought, every feeling would be written on his face. It hadn't always been that way but at some point Harry's body had decided he was safe with the other man and refused to mask his emotions anymore. "I don't want it."
"Don't want what?" Draco asked and Harry knew that he was just trying to get him to say the words.
The temptation to look over just to glare at him in response was strong. He didn't want his kindness, his gentleness, didn't want his words telling Harry that he was good, that he was enough. Those were the words Draco always gave him when things like this happened and Harry burned with hatred for them. For himself. "Don't," he managed, voice low and wounded, dangerous.
For a moment Draco didn't say anything, didn't do anything apart from looking at Harry like he thought that staring at him would make Harry look back. The silence couldn't last, unfortunately, "It's not your fault," he said, looking out over the lake. "And self-flagellating doesn't actually fix anything."
He looked over at Draco, "Sitting here is not about fixing things," he replied, voice scathing. "A child is actively living through trauma, Draco," he said because maybe that reminder would awaken something in him, would make him feel the same burning, agonizing resentment that was consuming Harry.
"I know," Draco said calmly.
"And they're going to send her back to them!" he roared, chest heaving. "She is living in a home where the adults demonstrate with their words and their actions that she doesn't matter." He shook his head, "She's eleven and she said that she was glad that she was here so that she didn't have to be such a burden on her family. How it would probably be easier for them and they'd be happier if she just didn't exist. What the fuck?!" he shouted, beyond frustrated, beyond any hope that there was anything he could do to make this world any less fucked up.
Draco rested a hand on his shoulder but Harry shrugged him off.
"Don't fucking touch me," he spit.
Draco said nothing and Harry recoiled from himself, he didn't want to hurt the other man, didn't want to slice him open the way that Harry was feeling torn to shreds.
"I can't. I told you not to push," Harry said, "I fucking told you to leave me alone."
"Harry," Draco said softly, "I'm not going anywhere."
"You should be!" He stood and paced away from the other man, still not looking at him, he couldn't bear to. He already knew what Draco's face would be doing, knew the soft set of his mouth, the wrinkle between his eyebrows, the way his eyes would say all of the words that Harry couldn't bear to hear. "I'm not in a good place right now."
"I know that," Draco replied steadily, "I'm not going anywhere."
"And when I just keep shouting at you? Pushing you away? What then?"
He hummed, "You're not actually mad at me. You're mad, and rightfully so," he said emphatically, "I'm mad, too. Your anger is right, and just, and good," he said. "And I am more than happy to bear witness to it. I want to bear witness to you, to your anger and your grief, to your guilt and shame. I want to see you."
"I don't want you to," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't want you to see me. I want to be kind to you, good to you," he said. "I want to treat you with gentleness and care, and I can't do that when I feel like this."
Draco looked over his shoulder at where Harry was standing and their eyes met. It shot straight through Harry and all of the emotions that he'd been holding back, trying to rationalize, trying to tamp down, came rushing to the surface.
"I don't want to," he said, shaking his head, eyes stinging with grief, rage hot in his chest, both things making it nearly impossible to draw a deep enough breath. "I don't want you to see it."
"I know," Draco murmured. "Thanks for letting me anyway."
He shook his head, "It's not fair," he murmured, defeated.
"No, it's not," Draco agreed. "None of this is fair."
"You didn't see her face," he whispered. "You didn't see her eyes or hear the way that she talked," he scrubbed his hands over his face. "My whole fucking heart just-" he gasped out, trying to articulate the way his entire heart had shattered into a thousand piece that he didn't think he'd ever be able to put back together, but not even able to complete his sentence.
"Thank you," Draco said.
"For what?" he asked incredulously, because nothing he'd done had done any good. Talking to Minerva, talking to the child protective services in the muggle community she was from, none of it mattered. There weren't any visible marks of abuse, they weren't going to do anything.
Draco gave him a sad little smile and it twisted the knife even deeper into Harry's heart. "For coming to work today," he said softly. "For seeing our students, and loving our students, and being a safe space for them-"
"It doesn't matter!" he exclaimed. "Don't you see?" he asked. "Fuck. There's nothing I can do. Nothing is going to change for her-"
"Everything has changed for her-"
"How?" he exploded. "She's still going to have to go back there when school ends in four weeks. She's going to spend the summer pretending that she doesn't exist, wishing that she didn't exist."
He stood up and took Harry's face in his hands so that Harry made eye contact. "Having someone listen, having someone see you, it changes everything. You're right, the system is fucked up, everything about this is awful. But what you did for her, it matters. You listening matters."
"It's not enough," he said, closing his eyes as the tears spilled down his cheeks. "It's not."
"It's not," Draco agreed and that last bit standing in Harry's heart shattered, the last vestige of hope completely snuffed out. "But you are."
He huffed a bitter laugh that sounded more like a sob.
"You, being you is enough. It's not going to fix everything," he agreed. "It isn't. But it doesn't mean that you aren't enough."
"I don't feel like enough," he whispered, the words like knives as they left his throat. "I just feel like I fail them over, and over, and over again."
"You're not."
"I feel like I've got nothing to give them," he confessed, "like what's the point of teaching them defense against the dark arts when it's not monsters and evil wizards that they're fighting? It's the adults who treat them like they're nothing, it their own fucking learned behaviors, and trauma, and thought patterns that they're going to fight the rest of their lives. What's the point?"
Draco was quiet for a heartbeat and Harry opened his eyes to look at him. "You don't treat them like they're nothing."
"Of course I don't," he replied, so offended by the mere suggestion that he could ever-
"It's enough. You are enough," he repeated. "They need you to be you," he said softly, "that's it. They just need you to see them and hear them. It's enough."
"It doesn't feel like it," he said, more tears spilling out without his consent.
He nodded wrapping his arms lightly around Harry's waist, giving him the freedom to pull away if he wanted to. "I know," he said softly.
And Harry collapsed against him, body resting heavily against Draco's. "I can't do it," he whispered, all gaping, aching weakness.
"You're not alone," Draco said softly, kissing his temple. "You don't have to do it alone."
"Promise?"
Draco nodded, "I promise love. I'm not going anywhere."
------------------------
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honeyawa · 2 months
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⠀⠀⠀⠀︵ ★ 𓈒 𐙚. LEARN. MORE —
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ೃ༄*ੈ✩  MY RULES. please read them before continuing browsing on my blog.
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( BYF. )
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₊˚✩ i don’t have a writing schedule. i post irregularly and whenever i get an idea on what to write an have motivation to write it.
₊˚✩ anyone can interact and read my works, i don’t mind who interacts with me but i prefer people who are 12+ and -25 at most. not strictly nsfw blogs can interact, but i won’t be able to follow due to your rules. ( incase you want me to, just give me the okay )
₊˚✩ feel free to send an ask as my ask box is always open and i love interacting with others! however, don’t send disturbing stuff, vents and trauma dumping. i do not know you.
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( INTERACTION. )
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aggravateddurian · 6 months
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🖊 for Vega?
Thanks to @pacificaisstillpacifica for asking!
Ever since I came up with Vega and the story for Chorus, I've been completely obsessed with Vega, her backstory and all of the implications.
Vega 'V' Hawse
Full Name: Vega Valerie Hawse Date of Birth: 12 October 2049 Affiliation: Bakkers (formerly), Afterlife Mercs, Aldecaldos (static)
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They're both Vega... but they're two different people.
Quick Vega Facts:
Vega's mother named her 'Vega' after the second-brightest star in the northern hemisphere. Vega has also historically been represented as an eagle or vulture in astronomy, and her holo avatar features an eagle, a star and the capital letter V, with the eagle swooping through it.
Vega is pansexual
Vega was a guitarist prior to encountering Johnny Silverhand. Johnny described her technique as 'okay, I guess, but needs improvement.'
Vega's favourite music is a derivative of late 2010s-early 2020s 'phonk' music. Johnny... has opinions on this.
Vega is an unofficial member of the Welles family, and Mama Welles frequently calls in at her apartment to check in on her, and to occasionally leave food
Vega in 2079 dyes her hair red, because she's actually blonde (this was a side-effect of the hybridisation of Johnny and V's relic engrams by Alt Cunningham.
Vega Backstory (until 2077):
Vega's the daughter of Logan Hawse, pack leader of the second largest family (nomad pack) within the Bakkers Nation, aside from the Bakker family themselves. Vega grew up mostly without a mother, as her mother was killed in a NUSA 'counterterrorist' raid during the 2050s and was raised by her father. Though the leader of the pack was supposed to be decided by family meeting, the Hawse family had been leaders of the family for nigh on 30 years by that point, and it was expected that Vega would eventually become the leader of the family when Logan retired... or died.
This began to change when the Bakkers Clan began to suffer due to generations of poor leadership, including one case where the leader of the entire Clan simply up and left. Logan began to agree with the other families in the clan that the Bakkers should join Snake Nation. Vega strongly disagreed, beginning a long feud between Vega and Logan. Panam and Vega would bond over their shared experiences while working together in the Badlands in 2077.
During this time, Vega stopped using her family name, and began to go by the epithet 'V.' She became significantly more morose. The family elders passed this off as Vega being a moody teenager. She had a series of increasingly disastrous relationships, leading her to develop a betrayal trauma. Both ended with her boyfriend cheating on her. One ended with a family meeting after she broke his jaw in a tussle.
Over the 2060 and 2070s, the Bakkers degraded more and more, and Vega was increasingly frustrated at the state of the clan. The final straw was when Logan announced, without a family meeting, that he had decided that the family would join the rest of the Bakkers families in joining Snake Nation. Vega organised a group of younger members of the family against the proposal to join Snake Nation. Logan declared this treason and moved to exile his own daughter at a family meeting.
Vega declared that she'd 'had enough of this shit,' stood up, got into her Galena Rattler, and drove off, never to return. For Logan, Vega died on 21 May 2076, the second she left the family meeting.
For Vega's friends Lincoln Bode and Polaris Draper, the attempt by Logan to exile his own daughter for disagreeing with him was evidence that the Bakkers were dead, and they, alongside some of the younger members of the clan, and a few older ones disgusted with the direction of their clan, left to form the Drakes (based on the icon of the Bakkers Nation), who formed an alliance with a smaller Aldecaldos family, and eventually became part of the Aldecaldos Nation in early 2077.
For Vega, Mama Welles, whom she met through Jackie, and lived with for much of the first six months she spent in Night City, is her mum. For her part, ever since Vega came back, Mama Welles has been calling her frequently to check up on her. Vega and her partner are frequent visitors to El Coyote Cojo, though Vega has tiptoed around the issue of her relationship with So Mi around Mama Welles, and So Mi personally is worried about what her potential future mother-in-law thinks about her.
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oscartwofoxtrot · 10 months
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[kicks down the door like the kool-aid man]: hi oscar talk to me about your favorite scene that you’ve written?
Sorry this took so long to answer, I was, apparently, writing an entire thesis. You Have Been Warned.
Oh my god uhhh. My favourite scene…okay, if I had to go with one, it’d probably be the scene from The Valiant Never Taste of Death I unofficially refer to as ‘Everybody’s dying bitch, let’s get you some peanut butter’. This comes about a quarter of the way through the second (proper) chapter, Requiem (NB: if we’re going by AO3 numbers then it’s Chapter 3, since there’s a Prologue chapter as well, but I don’t tend to count that numerically), and it’s the bit where Nate gently bullies Brad into sitting down and having a snack. And then uno reverse-cards him into talking about his childhood trauma. [Slaps scene] This bad boy can fit so many emotions in it!
For those unfamiliar with Halo 4 (which in all likelihood is most if not all of you), you should know that for the most part, I tend to hew fairly closely to the story and plot structure of the game when writing Valiant. But linear first person shooters don’t offer the characters a lot of opportunities to sit down and talk about their feelings, so this scene is an oscartwofoxtrot original! Sure, the action scenes can be fun, but there’s nothing I love more than getting to write Brad and Nate in their quiet moments, and I crowbarred this one in here to really dig into that Deep Halo Lore and hopefully use it to get at some of the complexities of their dynamic in this AU.
Speaking of complexities, you ask me anything at all about Valiant and I am not so much going to unpack the suitcase as start pulling hat stands and potted plants out of it Mary Poppins-style, so…this shit’s gonna need an itemised list.
1. Nate: [Basically refuses to acknowledge his own mortality, but you better believe he makes sure Brad remembers to eat and take a break every once in a while]. Also, Brad displaying just how whipped he really is. They may not have the same relationship dynamic as canon, but Brad pretty much lets Nate tell him what to do most of the time. tbh I think he likes it.
2. We get another hint at the circumstances surrounding Nate’s capture by the Gravemind. I alluded to this event in the prologue but have thus far avoided going into too much detail about it, so you’d better believe it’s a Surprise Tool That Will Help Us Later. One of the biggest challenges of writing an AU based on the fourth game in a series is finding the Goldilocks Zone of exposition – too much and you lose the current plot thread as well as the attention of literally everyone reading; not enough and the whole thing is virtually incomprehensible to normal people who don’t spend all their time on Halopedia. Trying to get that balance right is, shall we say, an ongoing struggle.
That said, I have been having way too much fun throwing out passing references to stuff like this – and this particular occurrence is a Big Deal in the world of Brad and Nate, because I think it may be the only time they’d been apart for more than like 24 hours since they started working together. (The backstory of their first meeting is a whole other essay in its own right, so I’ll just slap a sticker on this that says ‘Ask Me About My Canon Timeline In The Very Unlikely Event That You Are Interested’). Nate had become such a permanent fixture in Brad’s life, I doubt Brad understood what it would even feel like to miss him until he was gone.
And now that Nate’s life is in danger again, Brad has a very clear understanding of the stakes involved. Almost losing him the first time…it wasn’t The Moment of Realisation (more on that later), but it certainly did crystallise some deeper level of awareness on just how important Nate is to him. Of course, last time, the problem was one of distance – Brad was light-years away and couldn’t immediately get back to Nate, but there was a fortress to storm and a dragon to slay so he could save him. This time, Brad is right there, and he can see Nate suffering, and there is absolutely nothing he can do about it.
3. Couldn’t resist throwing in a version of the Peanut Butter MRE Temper Tantrum lol. I am at heart a giant sap and I do love writing them joking around and just being incredibly fond of each other. Because there’s no officer-enlisted divide here, it gives them more room to develop the casual familiarity and vaguely flirtatious banter we see hints of in the show. The spectre of Nate’s Rampancy does cast a pall over the whole thing, but it wouldn’t be Generation Kill without some serious mood whiplash. Speaking of which…
4. Hello and welcome to my impromptu TED Talk on the Insane Fucking Lore behind the SPARTAN-II program! (On all levels except physical I am this Brian David Gilbert Unraveled video). That’s right: the Spartan-IIs were kidnapped from their families at the age of six and, to avoid suspicion, replaced by clones implanted with their memories who would die within months due to congenital health issues caused by the cloning process. And as Nate points out, the UNSC didn’t even have the justification of the Covenant War, because that hadn’t started yet! They did this shit because various colony worlds wanted independence from the United Earth Government – but that would negatively affect the economy, so apparently the only two options available were ‘bloody civil war costing billions of human lives’ or ‘covert military operations to quash nascent insurrectionist uprisings, carried out by fucking child soldiers who we put through brutal training and experimental bio-augmentations that killed or permanently maimed like half of them’.
So, uh. That’s fucked! And what’s wild is that even though this has been a feature of the expanded universe since the beginning, it’s something that’s barely ever touched on in the games. Nate only knows about it because he went snooping for Brad’s unredacted file not long after they met for the first time (based on Cortana doing the same in the Halo prequel novel The Fall of Reach). For what it’s worth, Brad’s stated mindset is pretty typical of how the Spartans themselves feel about the whole thing: it’s been normalised for them because it’s the only life they know.
Nate, meanwhile, is understandably horrified, and it’s clear they both recognise the parallels between their experiences – the UNSC took away Nate’s autonomy too, by the very act of his creation. In between the Gravemind and the Rampancy, it’s something he’s been increasingly struggling with: that he was brought into being as a fully-formed person to serve a specific purpose, with the knowledge that he’d only have an operational lifespan of seven years before his systems started to decay irreparably. I can’t put it better than the Gravemind did (courtesy of the Halo short story Human Weakness by Karen Traviss): “Your creators made you separate. They placed a barrier between you and the beings that you would be encouraged to protect, a wall you could never breach. They even gave you a human to centre your existence upon, a human to care about, yet never considered how you might feel at never being able to simply touch him. Or how he might feel about outliving you.”
Damn are you guys seeing this shit? This is fucking crazy! Anyway I’m Rod Serling
5. Rule number one of Valiant: Brad does not know that he’s in love with Nate. Ya boi is pining without even realising that he’s pining. This isn’t a reflection of how I most commonly interpret canon – I look at show!Brad and I’m like ‘yeah, there’s a guy who’s 100% self-aware that he’s simping for his platoon commander’ – but in this AU, the Spartans’ lack of normal human socialisation has left him without any practical life experience of things like romance, so he’s just not quite able to put a name to those feelings. Yet, anyway.
As for Nate? I’ve been writing under the assumption that he is aware of his own feelings, but isn’t totally sure of Brad’s. I reckon he probably has a good enough read on Brad to at least suspect that Brad might reciprocate if made aware of the situation, but without any way to be certain, Nate’s unlikely to bring it up. Even I’m not fully decided on when Nate’s Moment of Realisation was. I do have a few ideas, but it’s not a detail that’s ever specifically relevant to the fic, so feel free to speculate.
In conclusion: …idk man, it’s been a year since I wrote this and I don’t completely hate it yet so. that’s probably a good sign, right? sorry for rambling it will happen again
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ao3feed-ladynoir · 2 years
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A True Treasure
A True Treasure by Jheqia
Adrien's first school fair is interrupted by an akuma attack, of course, but this akuma leaves its victims in a state of emotional trauma. Now Cat has to choose between finding Ladybug to set it right ... ...or saving his princess fromAdrien crippling self doubt.
Words: 2810, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Series: Part 20 of Marichat May 2022 Oneshots
Fandoms: Miraculous Ladybug
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: F/M
Characters: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Manon, Original Akumatized Character(s), Mediogre
Relationships: marichat, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Additional Tags: Marichat May 2022, Unofficial prompt list, Day 20: Treasure, Adrien is done, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Has a Crush on Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Post Strike Back, this prompt was a pain, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Depression, References to Depression, Marinette needs to be protected, Trigger Warning: depression, Cat needs his princess, Protective Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, some Hawkmoth salt
Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39123060
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