#then spent the past 9 months occasionally trying to find it again

[sisaloofafump]

Finally read JLA: Shogun of Steel (2002). Perhaps more interesting than the canon superbat, is the fact that the genderbent Bat doesn’t have Bruce’s iconic no kill rule. Otherwise, it’s just kinda weird. Some cool character designs though! I enjoyed it :)

#I heard about it last year #and saw the kiss panel #forgot about it #then spent the past 9 months occasionally trying to find it again #anyway finally refound the title and a copy online #so #yup #dc comics #batman #bruce wayne #superman #clark kent #superbat #my rambles #comic recommendations

[der7py]

Yandere Fashion designer x reader

TW: Obsessiveness, implied sexual abuse (past tense, not reader), depression, social anxiety, trust issues, mature language

Enjoy

Yandere FD who lives downtown in the city, who enjoys the quiet life and doesn't mind that no one's around. Really he likes being lonely

That was until you showed up on his doorstep during a bad rainstorm

You explain your not from around this city and your car broke down. You point at it and ask if you can stay with him for a little bit

He's a bit skeptical, eyeing your car and then eyeing you. Hesitantly, let's you come inside to dry off

Yandere FD who tells you to figure out a sleeping arrangement in the living room. He doesn't have any spare bedrooms

Yandere FD who keeps his entire identity a secret. You don't need to know him he doesn't need to know you.

Takes him a while to get obsessed he's already got bad experience in the relationship field

He calls up a mechanic that very night and tells you the earliest they can be is by next week. He wants you out of his house as soon as possible. What if you try and touch him while he's sleeping?!

The very next day he gets you working around 9:30. He doesn't want slackers in his home.

You barely see him. He's always cooped up in his office, designing new outfits and ordering the right cloth

Surprisingly you make a good worker. You don't complain and you get things done.

But by the time the mechanic comes by, he can bare you a little bit.

When you go to leave, you quickly remember. You never catched his name!

"Wait!" He turned around, staring at you through his hair. "I never catched your name!" There was a slight pause between the two of you. Finally, he responded. "That's cause I never threw it." He slammed the door, and didn't even bother peeking out the window. Who knew city folk could be so stingy? You drove off in your car, occasionally looking back at the house.

But he never even came outside.

After a while you started to miss his presence. Even if he was stingy and hard to talk too, he still gave you a place to stay. About a month later you drove back to his house. You knocked on his door three times, praying he'd answer. "What fuck do you- oh. It's you again. Your car break down again?" You shook your head and explained you wanted to get to know him better. Well that was odd. He invited you in, still hesitant about your plans.

Sooner or later Lance found himself feeling something for you. He didn't know what it was, but he wanted to be with you every step of the head. He was imagining a slight future with you. But he didn't know why. Hadn't he just met you? He hated people and always avoided going out. His doctor said depression made people be lonely and want to be isolated. So why were you different? Weren't you just some annoying pest that showed up on his doorstep?

"Can I catch your name now?" "Oh yeah. It's Lance. Lance Dustbin."

Did he just say he was Lance? The Lance Dustbin?!

You freaked out immediately and asked for his autograph. To say he was flattered was an understatement. He felt appreciated.

After much convincing, you manage to get him to sign your phone case

And with little convincing, you get his phone number

He asks if you two being friends could stay private due to his depression and anxiety and of course you accept.

A lot of your days are spent at his place, drinking coffee or having brunch at a local restaurant.

No matter, you've fallen for the fashion designer.

And he's fallen for you too. But maybe he fell a little too hard

He now constantly seeks for validation from you, whether confirming he's a good friend or if your friends with him for him and not because he's a famous fashion designer.

He gets worried when you don't text back. Did something happen? Was that creep next door bothering you? Did you not like him anymore??

It's never established if you two are dating or not. And he wants to keep it that way. What if a paparazzi finds out about you? You and him will never get any sleep!

He cares a lot about you, so don't lead him astray okay?

Please... Just stay with him a little longer.. he doesn't wanna be left alone again..

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x y/n #yandere character #yandere Fashion designer #male yandere #yandere oc imagine

[voiceoffenrisulfr]

Hail Hydra - Chapter 10

Bucky is sought out, and he receives a gift from his new captors. CW: Nightmares, blood, death of a whumper. Prompts met; '11. Unexpected Gift (Best/Worst)' - @deaddovedec; 'Alt 9. Begging' - @whumpcember; 'Be Careful What You Wish For (alternate)' and 'Showering in Victim's Shower' - @halloweenhorrorbingo; 'The Past does not Forget, Blood does not Forgive' - Five Nights At Freddy's Bingo (@seasonaldelightsbingo); '"Don't Try to Beg. It Won't Work."' - @anyfandomdarkbingo; 'Can't Go Home' - @badthingshappenbingo.

Check it out on AO3 here, or read the first section below the KR with the boards!

I was emotionless as I was shuttled along, guided by the doctor with a hand on my elbow. My decent into madness, cold and encompassing, was certainly complete; I couldn’t even find the energy to feel guilt for the blood cooling on my skin, smearing in the dust beneath my soles. “I’m proud of you, soldier.” I blinked in surprise, head turning minutely. “Sir?” “You’ve proven an invaluable asset. You will be rewarded for your obedience.” Distantly, I was aware of the ominousness of his words, but was too numbed by my actions to care what happened to me. “Thank you, Sir,” I muttered. I hesitated outside my cell automatically, but he continued to encourage me along, and I followed with a soft, accepting shrug. I’m never going to be free of my actions here. I don’t care what happens to me now. The door he stopped outside was, for once, an actual door – albeit with a large, thick window that allowed for surveillance and hatch for delivering food. “What is this place?” “This is your reward, Американский. You have proven your obedience to the Soviet Union.” He pushed the door open, and my eyes widened in shock. I’d almost forgotten what comfort looked like. My memories, as long-faded as they now felt, told me that this was not, by any means, the height of sophistication and luxury, but compared to the bare, freezing room I was used to, the metal bed with its thin mattress looked fit for a king. The doctor inclined his head, gesturing to a thinner, wooden door opposite. “There’s a bathroom through there. Toilet, shower, the works.” He smirked as my jaw dropped, offering me a victorious, vicious grin. “I told you, Американский. Obedience earns reward. Disobedience, well…” His gaze dropped to the scars marring my body, fading quickly but still evident. “We know how that ends.” I nodded once, eyes lowered, silent and cautious. A shower. I hadn’t had more than the occasional, frigid hosing since I got here several months ago; the promise of hot water was almost too good to be true. “This is the part where you say ‘thank you’,” he growled, a hand tangling in my hair to jerk my head back. “Th-thank you, Sir,” I stammered uncertainly, my watery gaze locked on the ceiling, stained and peeling, until he released me. “The war is over, Американский. But you… You cannot go home, just like the other Aмериканцы. You have seen too much here. You are also too valuable to us. You are a Soviet soldier now – or you will die, like your companions. Do you understand me?” I nodded again, my eyes on the floor. “Yes, Sir. I understand.” “Good. Now clean yourself off; you’re disgusting.”

I was left alone for three days, save for the meals pushed through the hatch in the door. I’d been upgraded to slightly more edible dishes – they actually somewhat resembled food I’d once eaten now – and spent the time moving between bed and shower, still entirely naked but far less frozen than I’d been in my cell. The ability to wrap myself in my blanket, thin as it was, and stare into the middle distance in my room that never turned dark, curled into a foetal position on a flat mattress, felt like a luxury. The hot water erasing months of grime, dried blood, and the residue of infections long healed from my skin was a blessing. “Bucky?” My head snapped up, wet hair dripping across my forehead, mouth working wordlessly for a moment. “… Aleksi?” The hatch opened, a serving tray being placed in the space, and I scrambled to my feet in a panic. “Aleksi – is that you? You’re- Are you okay?” “Why are you in here?” he whispered, pale eyes large and concerned through the window. “What happened to the other Sergeant?” “Dead,” I replied tonelessly. I still refused to think about it – the soldier falling to his knees, the blood pooling around my feet, his last breath being used to call me a traitor – but the images came for me at night, leaving me trembling and breathless in the eternal light of my room. “… This… This was his room? The American?” “Da,” he replied, nodding. “He and the younger both. What happened?” “I did,” I answered coldly, fingers curling around my tray. I’ve been sleeping in their bed. Using their shower. All as a reward for their deaths- their murders. I think I might be sick… “Why?” “I was told to.” He nodded softly, wincing. “Because of me.” “Because of a choice I let you make,” I corrected quietly. “I could have made you leave, but I let you comfort me. That was my choice.” He opened his mouth to interrupt, but I shook my head fiercely, taking the tray and backing away. “Get out of here, Aleksi. If you’re caught talking to me, we’ll both be punished.” “Buck-” “No. Go away, Russki. We’ll survive this if you leave me alone – so do us both a favour, and don’t talk to me again.” With a resigned sigh, he closed the hatch, his eyes burning a hole in the side of my head as I sat with my knees to my chest, the tray beside me. I’m benefitting for being a killer. What other choice do I have? Why does being rewarded for this suddenly feel worse than just going back to my cell?

I expected to go several more days before I was interacted with again, left to my own devices in this room that now felt more like a new kind of torture than a comfort. I’d wished for a modicum of humanity for so long, but now that I had it, it was as a curse. It was – as far as I could tell – still the same day when a cursory knock sounded at the door before it banged against the wall. I was startled out of my mindless staring by an unknown, stiff-backed soldier marching into the room, his steel-grey eyes scanning the space in a perfunctory manner before finding me. “Sergeant Barnes? Identification 32557038?” I haven’t heard those numbers in so long. My hand instinctively sought my tags despite their long absence, and I nodded slowly. “Th-that’s me.” “Get up. We’re leaving.” “I-” He reached out to grasp my hair in his hand, dragging me to my feet as I yelped in surprise and pain. “I expect you to do what you’re told, when you’re told, soldier. No arguments, and no complaints.” His gaze found my arm – or rather, the absence of it – and his lip curled. “What the hell did that butcher do to you?” “I lost my arm falling from a train,” I replied immediately, and he nodded once, releasing his grip at last. “The fall in the Alps.” “Yes, Sir.” “We were informed. We assumed you dead.” “‘We’, Sir?” I inquired tentatively, and he met my eye with a grin. “The War is over, soldier… But HYDRA is still very much alive.”

#fandom: marvel #Character: James Buchannan 'Bucky' Barnes #Rating: E #Please heed CW #Winter Soldier origins #fanfiction #mine #writers on tumblr #writing bingo #tem speaks #December 11th #CW: violence #CW: gun violence #CW: killing a whumper #CW: Death #whumpcember #dead dove december #any fandom dark bingo #five nights at freddy's #seasonal delights bingo #fnaf bingo #bad things happen bingo #bad things bingo #halloween horror bingo 2023 #july break bingo

[cherrycheridarling]

track number seven | t.h.

(pt. two to girl crush)

tom holland x singer!reader

warnings: none just fluff and a little angst?

summary: it's your album release day and a certain song leaves tom dumbfounded.

wc: 2.8k

Two months later and the cracks in your heart were still evident. Some have tried to fuse back together, but everytime you were nearly okay, a new article would appear or they'd come waltzing into the pub.

You had finished the album, done the promotions and now, it was finally being released to the public. Eighteen tracks, one hour and eleven minutes. It was normal for you to have a bit of anxiety on release day, you had for your last three albums, but this one was different. There was one song that had your nerves sky rocketing.

Track number seven. 'girl crush'. You'd put it as track number seven for a specific reason. Seven, to represent your seven years of friendship with Tom. Seven, to represent the seven years of you denying your feelings for him.

You weren't sure if Tom would even listen to the album. You hadn't spoken to him in at least four months. Small texts back and forth of 'what time at the pub tn?' and '9' were the extent of your interaction. You knew he was doing well, he had finished filming a new film and spent more time golfing. With Olivia.

Zendaya still came by regularly. She extended her stay in London, but stopped bringing vodka, just ice cream. Occasionally, Harrison and Tuwaine would pop by and check up on you. They'd stay overnight sometimes and binge watch Marvel movies with you. Harry and Sam would FaceTime you almost every week. Telling you about new acting gigs Tom managed to get for Harry or delicious recipes that Sam had perfected. They all knew you were hurting and refused to let you deal with your shattered heart alone.

Even Nikki and Dom came over one time. They brought Paddy with them and some Chinese takeout. You weren't sure if they knew about your broken state, but you enjoyed their company nonetheless.

The past two months had its highlights and low spots. You spent a significantly larger amount of time surrounded by your loving friends. But maybe the low was that Tom never showed. You weren't sure if you were thankful that he didn't or if you were slowly starting to despise him for it. But then again, you didn't show up at his home or text him. You couldn't expect him to know how you were feeling if you refused to say anything.

Now you were at BBC Radio One. On the breakfast show with Nick Grimshaw. Promoting your new album and explaining the background to each song before it played. Trying to hold your tears in and laughing through the pain.

"Okay, that was number six on the album, 'just a friend to you'! These are amazing, Y/N!" Nick complimented you, making you smile.

You nodded, "Thank you! That one was probably the easiest to write."

"Really? Why is that? I don't get the whole songwriting thing. I failed English in secondary school." he confessed, making you laugh.

"It just has a very simple melody and the lyrics somewhat remind me of a high school love. Young and foolish." you vaguely explained the song.

Leaving out the part that everything about the song was inspired by Tom.

Nick nodded, "This next track, track number seven. 'girl crush'. Ooh! What's this one about?" he got excited after reading the title.

You chuckled, a heat creeping up your neck, "Umm, this one is about- Hmm." you laughed lightly, "I wrote this one about two months ago, it was one of the last songs that we added to the album. As for what it's about, let's see." you rubbed your chin.

Nick laughed loudly into the microphone, "Y/N Y/L/N cannot come up with lies on the spot."

You gasped with a laugh, "I am not coming up with a lie! I am trying to find the right words to describe the song. Umm, okay, let's say that the person you want is dating a girl. This song is just about how one might feel if they were going through that situation. But I think it can be interpreted in many ways, so I'll leave that up to the fans."

Nick raised an eyebrow at you, "And have you gone through that situation? Is this one written from personal experience?"

You chuckled and bit your lip, "I think all artists write from personal experience. Or at least try to. It makes our work more authentic and – personally – I think it makes for better songs when you know that all the emotions the artist felt have been poured into the song." you gave an answer without actually answering the question.

Nick nodded again, "Okay, here is 'girl crush'."

He pressed a button and the guitar melody filled your ears. You felt as if you were reliving the moment you wrote the song as it played in your headphones.

What you didn't know was that Tom was sat in his home with Harrison, Tuwaine, Harry, Sam and Olivia. BBC Radio One playing on the telly as they sat around in the living room, eating snacks and listening to your album.

"Umm, okay, let's say that the person you want is dating a girl. This song is just how one might feel if they were going through that situation." you voice filled the room.

Harrison, Tuwaine, Harry and Sam all froze momentarily at the words that left your lips. Trying their best to not set off any alarm in Tom or Olivia as they all continued to listen in.

"And have you gone through that situation? Is this one written from personal experience?"

They had no reason to be nervous, but their palms got slightly clammy as they waited for your answer. Eyes flicking to Tom and Olivia who remained cuddled up and oblivious to what you were saying. At least Olivia was. Tom on the other hand had sweat starting to build down his spine with each song that played. His heart rate only quickening when you spoke about what inspired the latest song.

They heard you chuckle before answering, "Umm, I think all artists write from personal experience." you started and they knew it was going to be the same generic answer you gave everytime an interviewer asked you the question.

But as the song played, Tom moved slightly away from Olivia, trying to give your tune his undivided attention, despite the nerves cascading through him.

"I got a girl crush. I hate to admit it, but I got a heart rush. It ain't slowing down. I got it real bad. Want everything she has. That smile and that midnight laugh, she's giving you now."

This was the first time any of them were hearing the tune. And to say you left them all starstruck would be an understatement. Harry, Sam, Harrison and Tuwaine had to force their mouths shut as you sang. Tom had a faint expression of disbelief on his face as he listened to the lyrics and Olivia's head snapped towards the telly.

"I want to taste her lips. Yeah, 'cause they taste like you. I wanna drown myself in a bottle of her perfume. I want her long blonde hair. I want her magic touch. Yeah, 'cause maybe then you'd want me just as much. And I've got a girl crush. I've got a girl crush."

Olivia looked down at her hair at the lyric. Tom looked to his mates who all avoided engaging in any eye contact with him.

"When did she write this?" he asked them as the guitar filled the silence of the room.

All four looked to each other before Harrison sighed, "She said she wrote it about three months ago."

Tom did the math in his head. September, August. July. You wrote it in July. The month of the Summer Time Hyde Park Festival. The same month that article got released with the paparazzi pictures. You wrote it when he went public with Olivia.

His heart started beating out of his chest, a wave of chills running over him. You wrote it about him and Olivia. He tried to convince himself that it wasn't true. He was overthinking. You could've written the song about anyone. But the timeline was too similar. The lyrics were too straightforward. After hearing 'just a friend to you' his suspicion about whether or not you had written any songs about him was clouding his brain.

"I don't get no sleep. I don't get no peace. Thinking about her under your bedsheets. The way that she's whispering. The way that she's pulling you in. Lord knows I've tried, can't get her off my mind."

It was as if someone had locked up Tom's throat and thrown away the key. He couldn't find any words as you sang the chorus again. His hands involuntarily shook. They all knew the inspiration for the tune.

As the song ended, Tom still hadn't found his voice. Leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, chin in his hands. Fingers covering his lips to prevent his jaw from dropping. He listened as you got questioned about the song again.

"Woah. I feel like I've just been cheated on by my imaginary boyfriend." Nick laughed.

Your voice sounded again, "Yeah, that one carries a lot of emotion in it."

"I'm going to ask again, even though I know you hate it when I do, who's the song about?"

Your awkward laugh did nothing to cut through the tension in the room, "Man, if I told you, then you'd see that a bunch of the other songs are about him as well. So, I'm going to say that this one is about my pet bunny and his new girlfriend that I bought for him."

Your friends let out little laughs at your answer, but Tom was focused on the first sentence you said.

"A bunch of the other songs are about him as well."

Even he couldn't convince himself that track number seven wasn't about him. Now he wondered just how many he had inspired. He had his suspicions that you had some feelings for him, but he pushed them aside. You could never like him back. You were his best friend. He created his own rejection and used that as motivation to find someone new. Someone to get his mind off of you and the possibility of something happening between you two.

"So there is a him! Can I ask one more question before we move onto 'to love someone else'?"

"I'm scared, but sure."

"Does this boy who inspired many of your songs, go by the name of Tom Holland?"

Everyone froze. Jaws hung low. Harrison swore he could hear your heart pounding over the radio. Tom stared blankly ahead at the floor. Anticipation eating away at him as he awaited your answer. He knew you weren't going to admit on live radio that he was the inspiration, but you didn't need to. He already knew.

You mustered up your acting skills and laughed lightly, "Unfortunately, no. I've seen the people shipping us and all the edits, but Tom is my best friend and he is in a very happy relationship with a gorgeous girl. I respect their relationship, as should everyone else. The person who inspired these songs surely knows who he is, if he's listening right now."

"Fair enough. I have some tweets coming in from fans. Should we read them?"

"Yeah, of course."

Tom still hadn't moved from his position. Your songs, your words left him dumbfounded. He chewed on his bottom lip absentmindedly. Melancholy memories of the two of you floated around in his mind. His eyes drifted to the wall across from him. A picture of you and him at his twenty-first birthday party framed neatly on his shelf. The night he nearly confessed his feelings for you, but let his anxiety get the best of him.

Nobody made a move, your voice still blasting from the speakers. Until Olivia got up and shut the telly off with the remote. Angrily throwing it down on the couch. Her harsh movements startled the men, causing all heads to turn to her.

"What're you doing? We're still listening to her album." Harrison chuckled awkwardly before reaching for the remote.

Olivia scoffed, "The album that she wrote about my boyfriend? I don't want to listen to that."

Her words left them all in shock. Olivia was always a nice girl. Calm, collected. Her sudden outburst had them bewildered. They knew every lyric was born out of your love for Tom, but you were one of their best friends. There was no way they were gonna be the ones to confess for you.

Tuwaine furrowed his eyebrows, "She just said that the songs aren't about Tom."

"As if she would confess her feelings to the whole world." Olivia crossed her arms and sat next to Tom again.

Harrison rolled his eyes before turning the telly on again. 'to love someone else' played through the room.

"I don't want to listen to her stupid album!" Olivia repeated.

Harry chuckled, "I thought you were her biggest fan."

"Not anymore." Olivia mumbled and wrapped her arms around Tom's bicep.

Tom immediately curled away from her, "Liv, Y/N is our friend. We're gonna support her and listen to her album. It's her release day." he tried to explain in the nicest way possible.

"I'm not her friend. I don't need to listen to her bloody awful songs." she scoffed again.

"Then leave." Sam's voice was stern. Demanding.

Olivia was shocked. Her boyfriend's best friends and brothers were kicking her out.

"Seriously. She called you gorgeous and said she respected your relationship with Tom and you're being completely rude." Harrison added.

Olivia stammered, "F-fine. Let's go, Tom." she stood up, purse in hand and started walking to the door.

Tom stayed in his seat. All eyes were on him. Anticipating his next move. Olivia stopped when she didn't hear his footsteps behind her.

"Tom. Let's go." she enunciated every word.

Tom still stayed stuck to the couch. Avoiding everyone's gazes.

"I'm going to walk out that door and if you're not outside in the next ten seconds, we're over." she stated sternly before marching to the front door and leaving the house.

Tom's eyes flickered from the door, to his mates, to the TV where your voice could still be heard. With a sigh he got out of his seat and dragged his feet to the door.

Harrison, Tuwaine, Harry and Sam all let out groans of frustration at the sight. Infuriated that their best mate and brother was about to follow Olivia wherever she was heading. They all shook their heads with sadness and disappointment waiting for the sound of a shutting door.

But it never came. Tom waltzed back into the room. Taking his seat on the couch again as if nothing happened.

"I thought you left. What did you do?" Tuwaine laughed lightly.

Tom shrugged, "Had to lock the door."

The boys had a moment of shock before applause and laughter filled Tom's ears.

"That's brilliant! Oh, geez. Are you okay, though?" Harrison was still laughing as he asked.

Tom nodded, a content smile on his face, "Yeah, I feel great, surprisingly."

"Thank you for joining us today and celebrating your release here!" Nick's voice brought their attention back to the telly.

"Thank you for having me!"

"Do you have any plans for today? Any parties to celebrate the release?"

"Hmm, nope. I think I'm going to go home and take a long nap."

Your answer made Nick and the boys laugh.

"Well, I hope you have a good nap. Congratulations on the album, it's absolutely amazing."

"Thank you!"

As your segment on the show ended, Tom glanced at his phone. His finger hovering over your contact. Throwing his doubts out of the window, Tom typed up a message and hit send.

You signed autographs and took selfies with fans who had waited outside the building before your security ushered you into the black SUV. You released a long breath as you settled in the car. Enjoying the silence of the drive home until your phone dinged.

tom: great album. have you ever released a bad song? x

You smiled involuntarily before typing a response.

y/n: haha thank you x

tom: are you set on taking a nap or can i convince you to come over?

y/n: i wouldn't want to intrude on your time with olivia and the boys

tom: there's no olivia anymore

y/n: oh i'm sorry

tom: don't be but i think we should talk

y/n: idk that kind of scared me and a nap sounds rlly good rn

tom: i'll get sushi and don't be scared. only good things darling

y/n: you had me at sushi

Tom let out a joyous laugh at your response back before pocketing his phone and leaning against the couch with a grin.

"Luca, do you remember Tom's address?" you asked your driver.

He nodded, "Tom, eh?" you could hear the smirk in his voice.

"Oh, shut it." you chuckled before a graceful smile covered your features.

#tom holland #tom holland angst #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland x osterfield!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x singer!reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland oneshot #tom holland one shot #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x fem #tom holland and y/n #tom holland and reader #tom holland aesthetic #tom holland au #tom holland and you #tom holland actor #tom holland concept #tom holland drabble #tom holland edit #tom holland esquire #tom holland gq #tom holland fandom

[dongofthewolf]

Hiii! Can I request no.9 from the cliché prompts and fake dating au?

Making Amends

Abby Anderson x Reader

Prompts: 9. “There’s only one bed and we sleep as far away as possible from each other but wake up cuddling” 18. Fake dating au

Warnings: swearing, fluff, hint of angst, Owen and Mel slander (sry I had to)

No pronouns are mentioned for the reader

Link to the prompt list here

A/N: Both tropes are literally my favourite things ever and it was so fun to write so ty for requesting it. It ended up way longer than I intended so uhhh yeah hope you enjoy LOL (esp if you requested it)!!

“What the hell Abby?! Have you been telling people that we’re dating?” You had cornered Abby into a secluded hallway, trapping her against the wall with your finger on her chest accusingly.

There was a flicker of fear in Abby’s eyes as she chewed on her lip nervously. Abby was considerably stronger than you and you probably looked like a mouse trying to intimidate a lion, but you didn’t care.

Abby couldn’t meet your burning gaze, all she replied with was a prolonged “Uhhhhhh”.

“Abigail Anderson, answer me right now or I swear to God-” It was rare for you to whip out her full name. And maybe it was kind of a cheap move, but it was a cheap move that almost always worked.

“Fine!” Abby interrupted, letting out a short sigh and preparing herself for the worst. “I kind of told Owen we were dating and I'm pretty sure he’s been telling other people.”

She said the words as quickly as possible, closing her eyes like a bomb was about to go off. Your reaction wasn't far off to say the least.

“You what? Why the fuck would you tell him we’re dating?” There was venom in your words and Abby flinched just slightly.

You were angry, incredibly so. You and Abby have always been close friends, or more so you had been until she started dating Owen. At first it was small things; cancelling plans or leaving early because she was busy and you completely understood. It’s not like you didn’t want her to hang out with him, and obviously you wanted her to be happy, but eventually it got to a point where she hardly ever spoke to you. Aside from the occasional greetings in the busy stadium, it was like you guys had never even been friends.

Now, after completely ignoring you for the past months, she decided it was a good idea to tell people that you guys were dating? It only seemed right for you to be pissed off.

“I just... Everyone kept looking at me like some sad puppy dog because I broke up with Owen, which normally I can handle. But every single day I kept getting the same sad fucking looks and I couldn’t take it anymore, so I told them I was seeing someone. I never mentioned your name but they kept prying, and prying and you were the first person that popped into my mind. I’m really sorry Y/N.”

You didn’t say anything at first, instead you looked at Abby without a hint of emotion on your face, and even less in your tone when you did finally speak. “Why didn’t you tell me you guys broke up?”

Abby paused, she didn’t know what response she was expecting but it definitely wasn’t that. “I um, I figured you knew. Pretty much everyone in the stadium knows.”

“Yeah well… I didn’t.” You were quiet. A part of you was angry and annoyed, but another part of you pitied Abby. She had never been one to lie, especially about something as petty as this.

Before you could think of something to say, Abby broke the silence. “Listen, I know you probably hate me right now, but I need to ask you a small favour.”

“Seriously?” You nudged Abby’s chest, pushing her into the wall again. The pity quickly dissipated to nothing, leaving you once again with a seething rage.

“Look, I know things between us haven’t been ideal but-“

“Haven’t been ideal?!” You interrupted, the absolute ignorance in her words tipping you off the edge. “Abby, you threw me away like I was trash! We were friends and you left me to hang out with Owen. I didn’t even know you guys broke up because you don’t tell me shit anymore!”

“I’ll do anything Y/N, okay? I’ll do your laundry, clean your room, I’ll even take your shifts for patrols.” Abby’s hands were on your forearms as she spoke. “Please just do this one thing for me and I’ll spend the rest of my life paying you back.” There was sincerity in Abby’s face, a hint of desperation too.

You paused. What could Abby possibly want so badly that she’d be willing to do all this for you? Even though you were angry at her, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t just a little bit intrigued.

“I’ll do anything Y/N, please. There must be something that you want.” Abby pleaded, absolute seriousness in her eyes.

“What I want is to never see you again.” Your finger was pointed at her chest again, poking her lightly.

Immediately you could see the hurt on Abby’s face. Okay, maybe that was a little bit harsh (and kind of petty) but you weren’t just gonna let Abby off that easily. Not after everything she’s done.

“Fine…” Abby paused to contemplate her next words, wiping the sadness from her face. “Fine, after tonight if you do this thing for me, we’ll never have to see each other again, I promise. I just need you to come to this party with me. We don’t have to talk or hold hands or anything and you can spend the whole night hating me, but I just need you there.”

“I-“ You couldn't do that. You couldn’t just pretend and lie to all of Abby’s friends for a whole night… Could you?

“Please Y/N. It’s embarrassing, okay? When we broke up, Mel immediately jumped in to fill my space. Everyone knew it and I had to pretend like I didn’t care so people would stop treating me like a wounded animal. If they find out I lied about you? I don’t think they’ll ever stop seeing me that way.”

You looked at Abby and felt a tinge of sympathy, she looked so sad and desperate, and for a second you even considered it. One night couldn’t hurt, right? Wait, no.

You mentally slapped yourself, trying to snap yourself out of it. You were not going to give in that easily. Nope. This was Abby, the same girl who threw away your friendship like it was nothing, and you were not going to let her use you like this. Not even while she’s looking at you with those sad, blue eyes. Nope, you’re mad, you’re angry, you’re-

“Fine.” Fuck.

“Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Abby’s eyes lit up as she wrapped her arms around you, lifting you into the air while she let out a breath of relief.

What did you just get yourself into?

—

“I can sleep on the floor, it's really no problem.” Abby offered, there was a slight nervousness in her tone as she stood in front of you shifting her weight on the balls of her feet.

“Abby, that’s stupid. It’s not like I’m infected or something.” You huffed, reaching for the box of matches to light the candle next to you.

Sometime after the party there had been a power outage and the entire WLF base went lights out. Meaning there was no heat and most annoyingly, no lights.

After a night of uncomfortable looks and even more uncomfortable conversations in which you spent most of the party trying to avoid Abby’s friends, she was walking you back to your room when everything suddenly went dark.

The both of you practically crawled to your room before you could locate a light source of some kind. It had been an hour since the power went out and you insisted that Abby sleep in your room, for… safety purposes.

You shook the match till it was out, suddenly you were thankful for impulse buying those candles last week.

“It’s fine, I’ll just crawl halfway across the stadium until I find my room. No biggie.” You couldn’t tell if she was joking, but something in you felt like she would actually do it if you didn’t insist she stay here.

You sighed. “Just sleep here Abs, it’s easier and I’m offering. Plus, I don’t need you army crawling across the entire WLF base. It’s hard on the arms, even for someone as strong as you.”

“You think I’m strong?” Abby smiled teasingly and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, looking away as you tried to hide the small grin on your face. God, it was hard to stay mad at Abby.

“Shut up and take the bed.” You could tell Abby was reluctant but she still plopped herself onto your bed. She sat awkwardly on the edge, unsure of how this was going to work.

You tried to ignore Abby’s weird energy as you buried yourself beneath the covers. It took a minute for her to actually lay down in the bed but when she did, she was careful to keep her distance. It was pretty funny (and pretty cute) how unsure she was.

After a few minutes of silence you heard Abby whisper your name softly, almost like she wasn’t sure if you could hear her.

Nuzzling your nose into your pillow you whispered back a small “Yeah?”.

“Thank you.” You could hear the genuity in Abby’s voice, how grateful she was for such a simple act and suddenly it hit you, you didn’t want her to leave you alone. You missed this—missed Abby.

Instead of responding you nudged her foot lightly with yours. It was something you guys had done as kids, like a silent way of saying “I’m here.”. Under the dinner table with the Fireflies or during training when you first joined the WLF; it was an unspoken thing between the both of you. An action that spoke much louder than words possibly could.

The both of you laid on opposite ends of the bed, your backs turned to each other. You shifted under the sheets before finally finding a comfortable position, you fell asleep that night to the steady sound of Abby’s breathing.

—

You were first to wake up, confusion washing over you when you felt your head rising and falling. Why the hell was your pillow moving? Then it hit you; it wasn’t the bed moving, it was Abby. Your head lay resting on Abby’s chest, her arm over your back while your limbs were wrapped around her like a giant stuffed animal. The sound of her beating heart was soft in your ears and you could feel her breath coming out in steady increments, blowing lightly against your head.

You weren’t sure what to do about your compromising position. It was already too late for you to leap out of her arms and a large part of you didn’t want to move anyways. So you decided to pretend to sleep until she woke up. That way you wouldn’t have to decide what to do, she would.

Abby woke up shortly after you, you could tell she was awake by the way her breath hitched in her throat upon noticing how you guys were situated. However, instead of jumping out of the bed in a panic, Abby didn’t move either, and it took everything in you to not open your eyes.

After a few moments of stillness, you almost thought she had fallen back asleep. It wasn’t until you felt a light touch on your temple that you realized she was awake. The touch so light you nearly missed it when Abby brushed a small strand of hair away from your face.

Then slowly, Abby pried you off of her and you nearly let a small groan slip from your lips when you felt the absence of her warmth. She gently rolled you over, covering you with the blanket before walking into the bathroom.

That’s when it happened: the ache. A sharp, jarring ache in your heart that you only felt with her— that you haven’t felt since the two of you were best friends. It had left you when you and Abby stopped talking, but it returned just the same when you witnessed the tenderness of her actions. You never thought to put a name to this feeling (and maybe a part of you didn’t want to), but it was near impossible to ignore it.

You couldn’t possibly be harbouring secret feelings for Abby, right? You tried to distract yourself from these thoughts, it was way too early to be worrying about these things.

Feigning tiredness you rolled off the bed and headed towards the bathroom. You knocked on the door and when Abby opened it you noticed she was in the process of redoing her braid.

You leaned against the doorway as you watched her skilled fingers work. “Abs?”

“Hm?” She replied as she tied off the end of her braid.

“I didn’t really mean what I said to you last night… about never wanting to see you again. I’m sorry.” You picked at your thumb anxiously, eyes wandering around the room, looking anywhere but at Abby.

Abby turned to face you, letting the braid fall to her side. “You don’t have to apologize Y/N, I deserve it. I didn’t even hesitate to leave you when Owen and I started dating, and I was-“

“Stupid?” You finished for her, looking up from the floor to meet Abby’s gaze.

“Stupid. And for what it's worth, I’ve really missed hanging out with you Y/N, even if it is under these circumstances.”

“You know… I think I know a way you can make it up to me, if you’re still up for it?” Abby looked at you with a raised eyebrow and you noticed the corner of her mouth curling into a small smile.

“Oh yeah? What would that be?”

“You see, there’s this guy that’s been trying to ask me out for weeks even though I keep rejecting him.” You gave Abby a tiny grin as you continued. “Well, maybe if he found out I was dating a certain soldier who could pound his ass into the ground, then he’d leave me alone.”

Abby nodded her head nonchalantly as she took a small step towards you, crossing her arms across her chest. “You know what’s crazy? I think I have just the person for you.”

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson imagine #the last of us imagine #the last of us 2 #tlou2 #abby anderson #abby tlou #requests #fluff #a little bit angsty #I’m big gay

[cuddlesslut]

Part Five: Friends

Atsumu x fem reader, Suna x fem reader , Hinata x fem reader

A/N: ahh this took me so long to write sorry guys! Been having a tough few days. But we are back in the game. So This chapter is mainly the relationship between Hinata and YN! I love Hinata so much im actually thinking about making another series with him after this one is done. Let me know if y’all would be interested. I decided to put a little NSFW scene in but there is a warning.

Warnings: Angst, some fluff, Smut. And more Angst.

Part Four: Chance Encounters

Part Six: Promises

The night you spent with Hinata is no less than amazing. You don’t remember passing out, but your eyes open from your groggy sleep. It takes you a moment to register that this is not your room. Your eyes widened realizing you had stayed the night which was not something you’d had planned on. You take in your surroundings Hinata lays behind you and arm draped over your waist. Your heart speeds up as you understand how close he is to you, his face nuzzled close to your neck. You could feel his light snores. Oh my goodness! You screamed in your head IM IN A MANS BED! AND HES CUDDLING ME! You had never slept with anyone other than Atsumu let alone cuddled. So this was a lot to process. The hardest thing to understand was why it felt so nice in his arms. You quickly shook that thought out of you mind, you probably were just touched starved you rationalized. That’s why you lie to yourself when his grip on your waist tightens and he pulls you closer to his chest, saying it doesn’t make your heart flutter your just nervous.

“Good morning,” he smiles his voice gruff from sleep. “What time is it,” he questions seeing that you had already been awake for a moment.

“I’m not sure,” you admitt rubbing your head, a twinge of pain zinging threw you. You were slightly startled when he leaned over your body reaching for his phone on the nightstand. A heat creeped onto your cheeks at the proximity of your naked bodies only a sheet separating him from your sight. Although the tenderness between your legs showed that you two had been plenty close the prior night. Thinking of some the activities that transpired last night caused more embarrassment to consume you. You did things with this complete stranger that had taken you forever to work yourself up to with Tsumu. You body was sore from the multiple rounds the ginger had put you through, his stamina was insane, although you couldn’t complain he aimed to please. He laid back down in his spot next to you checking his phone.

“It’s about to be 9:30, he yawns rubbing the sleep from his warm chestnut eyes. You peek over at him getting a better look of his physique in the daylight. Your eyes widened because damn was he hot. He laid on his side propped up on one elbow as he stared at the screen of his device. Your eyes trailed down his exposed chest and abdomen his defined abs and pecks on full display for you. As you look farther down the blanket falls carelessly over his lap one leg peeking out. You raised an eyebrow at the little peek of a tan line you could see. You were broke from you trance as he asks you a question.

“You wanna go get some breakfast?,” your eyes widened “ I’d offer to cook but my fridge is still pretty empty and plus my cooking sucks I’d hate to make you suffer through that,” he chuckled. It was too much this is supposed to be just sex, and breakfast sounds to much like a date, too domestic. You sit up quickly holding the sheet to your chest.

“Ah no I can’t, i-I uhhh need to go,” you stammered looking around the room for your clothes.

“Hey, hey it’s fine,” he try’s to calm you seeing how anxious you are. “you stay right here I’ll go grab your clothes and let you get changed,” he said standing pulling a pair of boxers on. You nodded and steadied your breathing as he went to gather your outfit from last night.

“There you go that should be everything,” he laid the pile on the bed next to you, “uhh sorry about your underwear,” he smiled nervously reaching his hand up to rub the back of his neck. You looked down at the pair of torn lace panties siting at the top of the pile.

You returned an embarrassed smile, “it’s okay,” you assure him.

“Well I’ll be in the kitchen making some coffee, uh the restroom is right out the door to the left if you need it, uhh take your time,” he said excusing himself to give you some privacy.

You take a moment to breath before you start to dress yourself. It felt a little strange to not have on underwear but you guess it’s a small price to pay for the pleasure you felt last night. You won’t lie you definitely needed that stress relief. You quickly finished putting yourself together before exiting the room seeing Hinata standing there at the counter full of confidence for being in only boxers with coffee mug in hand you notice his smile that never seems to stray far from his face just as present.

“Would you like a cup,” he asked gesturing to the still half full pot of coffee.

You smile politely smile before shaking your head no. “Uh I need to get going I have class today, but ..” you trail off trying to figure out how to word what needs to come next. “umm look thank for the offer for breakfast and you know for last night,” he breaks into a big smirk at the mention of last night’s activities. “ but I’m not looking for a relationship so it’s probably best we leave it off here,” still smiling, yet not as big as before, he nods. You breath a sigh of relief.

“No worries I get it.”

“Well in that case, goodbye Shoyo, see ya,” you gave a small wave before exiting his apartment.

Hopefully, Hinata thinks to himself wanting to in deed see you again.

As much as you swore it was a one time occurrence you kept finding yourself back in Shoyo's bed. It was always the same you’d head to your bar, sit in your usual spot, order your usual drink and before long you’d see the orange haired man take his seat next to you. The first time you saw him after your lust filled night together was rather awkward. You were surprised when he sat to you and struck up a conversation like you hadn’t had a one night stand just last week. But the chatting was always so easy going you honestly didn’t mind having him around. Plus with him there less men were trying to chat you up. That second time you met him you told yourself you’d keep your pants on but a couple drinks and several laughs later you’d find yourself in his bed with the ginger in between your legs. You could never find it in yourself to be angry at yourself afterwards ,And while this started happening more frequently it was rare you’d stay the night like that first time. Usually getting an Uber home after getting dicked down. You couldn’t lie it was exhilarating being with Shoyo. Although if you were still pretty hammered Hinata would insist you stay not wanting something bad to happen on your way home. He’d offer you his bed while he opted for the couch. Eventually your routine changed you both swapped numbers and soon enough you weren’t meeting at the bar before heading to his place you weren’t needing the aid of alcohol to loosen you up before finding yourself in his bed... or his shower or really any surface in his apartment. You were both insatiable. In time you weren’t rushing away immediately after. Choosing to indulge him , you’ve come to realize that Hinata really enjoyed cuddling and aftercare. Always lighting up when you’d let him pamper you after a particularly rough or extensive session. He’d gladly spoil you after every round but you were still hesitant on to much intimacy. But occasionally you’d satisfy his want for cuddles. Although you’d deny it you rather enjoyed laying in his embrace feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat lull you to sleep. That was another change you no longer accepted him sleeping on the couch when you stayed overnight not wanting to be an inconvenience but also knowing he’d never allow you to take the couch you stopped him one night stating that you’d like him to stay. His eyes lit up as he pounced back into the bed.

But you stayed firm in the fact that you weren’t looking for a relationship and he assured you that he understood and was okay with the arrangement. And that’s how it’s been for the last two months. It had been seven months since your relationship with Atsumu had ended and you would have never guessed that in seven month you’d be in a casual friends with benefits relationship with Hinata. And that’s what you would call yourselves, Hinata was your friend and you his. You steadily got to know each other more and more about each other’s lives. You were a little concerned when you found out it wasn’t solely beach volleyball he played but you put your worries to the side volleyball was a big enough sport. Right? All in all you’d say slowly but surely you were getting happier. You found yourself thinking of you know who less, and some of the pain was starting to subside. Although that distrust was still there. You were still broken. As close as you and Sho got there was still part of you that couldn’t trust yet. How did you know he wouldn’t get bored of you just like the setter had. You weren’t ready to put yourself up to get hurt again. You wanted to trust Hinata he was an amazing guy so kind and understanding never pushing you past what you were comfortable with. He constantly looked out for you checking on you during some of your intense study sessions as you readied for finals always making sure you were taking care of yourself and not overworking. If you stayed over he’d always make sure to set an extra alarm so you wouldn’t be late for class or work. It meant so much to you how much he cared but you just couldn’t believe in it , you had believed that Atsumu cared about you yet that was a lie. Who’s to say this wouldn’t end up just the same. That’s why you wanted to just be friends, a small part still kept a window of hope open that one day it may be more but it wouldn’t be fair to Hinata to bring up any of this while filled with so much uncertainty.

NSFW below if you’d rather not read it skip the first three paragraphs.

You laid there breaths ragged as Hinata pinned you to the bed your legs pressed to your chest as he pounded into you relentlessly. This was his favorite position he loved being so close to you being able to see all of the pleasure in your face as he worked your body over, your tits bouncing to the rhythm he set.

“Sho,” you moaned your thoughts clouded as he built up yet another orgasm, this was your third one since you had stepped foot into his bedroom.

“What’s that baby?” He smirks as he see you struggle to form words. He loved making you like this. Eyes crossed as you gasped for air, craving the release he’d give you. “Fuck beautiful you know how much I love it when your so fucked out you can’t speak straight,” he laughed. You smile at him happy to provide him with what he likes. Hinata was getting lost in his lust. He freed one of your legs letting it rest against his shoulder as he grabbed his headboard for a better angle as he started drilling into you. A loud whimper ripped threw you. You felt so full as his cock reached so deep into you. You knew you were done for and Sho could tell as well , “ that’s it beautiful go ahead and cum for me, fuck your so gorgeous like this,” he groaned as he followed you into his own release spilling himself into the condom.

You laid there breathless. Hinata stood disposing of the used rubber, he exited the room going to grab a soft wet rag and a glass of water making sure to clean and rehydrate you before climbing back into bed and pulling you onto his chest. You both laid there for a while catching you breath, your head resting on his chest arm wrapped around him as you nuzzled further into him. You could feel his heartbeat start to stabilize. He trailed one his hand up and down your back in a very soothing pattern. It felt amazing honestly laying here with him was better than anything you had ever experienced with Tsumu.

You couldn’t see it but Hinata laid there with the goofiest grin as much as he loved sex with you this was his favorite part. Holding you in his arms so tight calming you while you are still so vulnerable. He wishes it could be like this all the time. That he could wrap his arms around you at anytime to hold you whenever he wants, to wake up to your beautiful bed head. He pushes those thoughts to the side as much as he wants you to be his he knows you aren’t ready and the last thing he’d want to do is rush you. You had told him a while back about your ex and everything he had put you threw and how betrayed you were by his actions. You never told him who your ex was and he didn’t ask it wasn’t his place you’d tell him if he needed to know and he knew that. He hated how much your ex had broken you but all he wanted to do was to do his best to fix the damage done. As much as he wanted to be able to call you his , he was happy to wait.

You were finally back to normal but you weren’t ready to leave his embrace. You decided to strike up a some casual pillow talk. You asked him about his day, how his morning run had went. He asked if you were excited about graduation seeing as it was only a month away. You told him about some annoying customers you had at the cafe this morning. You were smiling up at him laughing at the story story he was telling when his eyes lit up!

“That’s right I haven’t told you yet but I made it through try outs!” He boasted. “ I made the team!” You could see the happiness radiating off of him. For some reason you got an unsettling feeling in your gut. You put it to the side.

“THATS AMAZING SHO!” You yelled launching forward wrapping him in a tight hug. “What team?”

“I’ll be playing for the MSBY Black Jackels,” he grins. You feel everything slow down. The words are still processing in your mind. No it can’t be! Why? Why did it have to be his team! Out of all the teams in Japan why did Hinata have to go to the one who’s starting setter ruined you. Suddenly all of the thoughts and memories of Atsumu that had been hidden from you recently came crashing back to you. You wanted nothing to do with him. You couldn’t do it, for the same reason you had pushed away all of your friends and uprooted your life you couldn’t do this, you couldn’t let him back into your life you weren’t nearly ready for him to be in anyway connected to your life. All of the these overwhelming thoughts at were crashing over you were interrupted when Hinata asked his question. One you knew the answer to but couldn’t give to him.

“We have a game next week, would you come watch me play?” He smiled at you. You looked up at him saddness in your eyes. You quickly stood up gathering and putting on your clothes. Stammering for a response. Hinata sat up in alarm at your sudden actions he could sense something wasn’t right. He waits for you to speak seeing you try to form your words. Now fully dressed. You looked up at him his normally smiling face wasn’t there instead it was a face of worry.

“ I-I can’t Shoyo, I can’t go to your game,” you looked around grabbing your purse and phone, “I need to go Sho.” Hinata was now standing he was so confused everything was just fine what had gone wrong. Had he pushed you to far? Was inviting you to his game to intimate?

“Wait YN,” he said reaching for you he need to know you were okay.

“ I’m so so sorry Shoyo I just need to leave, I’m so sorry,” you said frantically looking into his eyes trying to truly express your sincerity in your apology. It wasn’t his fault. He was just excited about his dream and here you were ruining the moment. You always ruin everything you chastised yourself. With one last woeful look you were gone out the door. Hinata was left there in utter confusion. He let out a sigh before sitting back down on the bed letting out a groan of frustration.

You closed the door to your apartment with a thud finally allowing the tears you were keeping in to flow free. You kicked off your shoes before throwing yourself onto your bed. You let out a scream of frustration into your pillow as sobs over came you. The exhaustion of the day took you over and soon you were out like a light.

You woke up a couple hours later it was only around seven o’clock and your stomach was growling. This wasn’t going to be a good night. You look at your phone seeing several texts and a missed call from the ginger. You let out a groan, first you needed food and then you needed booze. You went to your bathroom taking a quick shower finally cleaning your post sex body. Before putting on a simple outfit. You slipped out your apartment door and out into the Tokyo night. You stopped at one of your favorite food stalls getting a small bowl of ramen to warm your tired soul. Normally you’d head to your Usual bar but you couldn’t there was the chance of running into Shoyo there and that’s not something you were ready for. You pulled out your phone finding a bar not to far out of your area, it had a sleeker vibe but maybe a little change would be good. So with that you head straight there. Its more crowded than what you were used to. It had a more lively crowd than you local bar. There were couples dancing and large groups of friends standing around and laughing. You head to the bar starting off with two shots straight back to back. Tonight wasn’t a night you wanted to go easy. You sat down at the bar nursing the drinking you had just ordered. You thought back to the incident with Hinata, he must hate you, you figured. He was always there for you yet one mention of you ex and you couldn’t even suck it up to be happy for him. You hated that. He deserved better than what you gave him. You were getting lost in your thoughts letting you mind go down a rabbit hole. Finally you looked up from your drink eyes scanning the bar. And that’s when it happens your eyes lock onto each other from the other side of the bar. It felt like all the air in your lungs suddenly evaporated. It felt unreal like you weren’t really seeing him standing there. He looked just as stunned like he had just seen a ghost. He snaps out of his first and when he starts to walk towards you it finally hits you that it’s really him. You finally breath and when you do his name leaves your lips.

“Suna,”

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[theji]

Things Yizhan Made Me Do

It's BXG Day today! 🐢💛

To commemorate the occasion, I thought of making a list of 13 out-of-character things that I've done since falling into the fandom. (OK I'm a bit late I meant to do this sooner, the day is ending soon in a couple of hours).

1. Start a blog

And a public one, no less. I had a blog when I was in my teens but that was private, like a personal diary. My day job already involves writing so off-work I would usually like to indulge in mindless activities. Now, here I am, maintaining a Yizhan blog. I have not even used Tumblr prior to this but I'm enjoying it now, rambling about our fav boys. Writing is not a chore if it's about them.

2. Join a fandom

I joined a boy band fan club once upon a time, some 15 years ago, but I was never as invested in it as I am now with Yizhan. Back then it was just buying some merch, attending their concert/autograph sessions, listening to their songs. Apart from work, dog mum duties, personal relationships, other hobbies like kombucha brewing, most of my free time is now spent on the fandom. My Netflix account is crying. There is just so much to do and catch up on (I'm not complaining). I also enjoy interacting with and learning from other bloggers here. Antis are no fun and some industry news/developments/hate messages are upsetting but ultimately, you curate your own fandom experience. And I choose positivity and rationality.

3. Indulge in RPS

I don't ever 'ship'. What is 'ship'? 😆 I was always a dutiful audience, just enjoying whatever drama series and moving on after that. I started with CQL like most people and I didn't even notice/like GGDD until much later. Didn't even set out to 'ship' anyone but now I'm a self-professed turtle. SZD is SZD, and anyone can see something special between them if you keep an open mind. I wrote about my SZD reasons here previously. That said, GG & DD are individuals, each with their own successful careers. They come first, the ship comes second. That I'm very clear of.

4. Use Chinese apps

Gosh, my phone and tablet are now full of Chinese apps. I used to have only WeChat cos I needed it for work but now I have Weibo, Oasis, Douyin, WeTV, MangoTV, Youku, etc. Some of them are not even available in the app store so I had to find alternative sources to download them. haha..I even have paid membership for some of these apps. And now, browsing Weibo daily becomes a routine. If you wish, you can just get stuck browsing Weibo for a long long time. It's entertaining.

5. Read fan fic

I only started about 6 months ago but now I'm hooked and fics are largely the only thing I read these days, apart from news. But I only read Yizhan or WangXian fics (p.s. calling for fic recs of other pairings!) I know some might have different feelings about fan fics but to me, I really just see them as fiction, with characters (and sometimes traits) bearing similarities to GGDD. Similarly, I separate the platform from the incident so I have no problems going to A03 despite GG's incident. I just enjoy seeing the characters named XZ/WYB having happy endings in many different timelines and universes. While most of the fics I read are explicit (by design), I don't use them as tools to play out certain fantasies or to think of GGDD in a sexual manner. In fact, I really hate fics that have little substance and just go into the explicit parts without plot development. I like those with interesting premises too, like one I read recently where XZ is a serial killer and WYB is a police officer investigating the case but also in love with him. I do have plans to share my list of fav fan fics some time down the road so keep an eye out for it!

6. Willingly read Chinese

Yes, Chinese may be my mother tongue but I don't use it much in daily living unless I have to. I also find it tedious to read Chinese cos the characters are just so squashed together. If I have a choice, I will always pick English. But now, I read so much Chinese from my daily weibo browsing. I even read fan fics in Chinese! Who am I? On the plus side, I think my Chinese comprehension and translation skills improved. I also picked up some internet lingo used by Chinese netizens, which are pretty interesting like doi, 🐮🍺, 🖍. My all-time fav is yyds.

7. Act like a cougar

In real life, I have always maintained that younger men are childish. At least those I have encountered. But look at me now, fangirling over two younger men (I am closer in age to GG, but still..). I even jokingly call them my 'China Boyfriends'. I look at them very respectfully most of the time.

8. Buy merch

Seriously, once you start, you can't stop. At least that was what happened to me, although I'm still quite selective when it comes to supporting their endorsements. I usually go for consumables like food, cosmetics vs collectibles cos I'm more practical. Also, GG says to support their merch within reasonable means so that's what I'm doing. Just buying things that I'm interested to try and not because it has their faces or names slapped on it. In a way, this suits me cos I like trying new brands and stuff anyway.

9. Keeping a Yizhan archive

Photos, weblinks, videos, songs, fan fics list..my phone is full of these things now. I think my Yizhan photo gallery is only second to the folder with my dogs' pictures. But how can you resist when we are blessed with new pics of them almost every week?

10. Camp for livestreams

I'm lucky I live in the same time zone as the boys so I don't have to wake up in the wee hours of the morning just to watch something. But that's the thing, being in the same time zone sometimes make me feel like I HAVE to watch that thing live because, why not? Why wait? Not shy to admit that I once watched a live programme in the middle of work but I made sure I finished what needed to be done. I think so long as we don't let these livestream schedules run our lives, there's no harm in camping for them.

11. Watch c entertainment

I am one of those who used to pass over Chinese productions, simply because it's a Chinese production. Not in a scoffing manner but I'm just genuinely not interested in them nor the celebs. I was more of a US/UK production kind of person, occasionally Korean/Japanese. Now, I'm learning to enjoy them although I just watch those with GGDD in them. No energy to follow other Chinese celebs anyway. The other programme I'm contemplating watching even if it doesn't have them in it is Who's the Murderer (GG was only in one of the cases) cos I like the premise. On the flip side, now my sis and partner keep making fun of me cos to them, all I do now is "watch China shows". That is so not true. Or is it?

12. Write fan mail

I wrote a letter to GG once. A long-ass letter. I hope he read it. That's all I'm gonna say. 🙈 hahahahaha

13. Desire to visit China

China was never on my list of to-visit places. Just wasn't interested. I have been to Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou a few times in the past for work but even then, I never felt the urge to revisit for leisure. Now, I wanna visit GG and DD's home town, visit Chongqing to see the graffiti wall with Bobii Zanbii on it, eat mala hotpot and try out their sauce recipe, attend BXG events, dine at the CQL restaurant... Watching TTXS also made me realise that there are many beautiful places in China with natural landscapes and all that. I used to be clouded by my disdain for the regime and some behaviour of its citizens but now, I recognise that the country is separate from the regime or a smaller group of poorly behaved citizens. China is a beautiful country and I would love to visit some day. I will fly over immediately on my own if someone gives me tix to ADLAD!!

Well, I hope some of these things resonate with you. Feel free to share the OOC things that Yizhan made you do.

Once again, Happy BXG Day! 🐢💛🐆🐇🐷🌶🦁🍑🐶🍍🛹🎋

#yizhan #bjyx #things yizhan made me do

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 9

Yay! Next chapter! True confessions, this *sorta* slow burn is killing me....and i’m the one writing it! (sorry not sorry?)

Warnings: some swearing, nothing really, Hvitserk being a good bro?

Words:7100 (I hope these longer chapters make up for the wait)

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius @evelynshelby @pomegranates-and-blood @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @heavenly1927 @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls @love-all-things-writing @southernbe​

Series Masterlist

The ringing of her phone had Kari dropping the leggings she was folding on her bed to quickly snatch it up. 

 "Albus!"

 The voice on the other end sighed. "You know I hate that nickname."

 Kari laughed, picking the leggings back up to fold. "But it fits you so perfectly."

 "I am not an old wizard."

 "I'll give you that, but you're studious, kind and too wise for someone your age. So close enough."

 "I suppose if I haven't been able to convince you to drop that nickname for the past ten years, I won't be able to now."

 "Nope." She cheerfully said. "So, how are you? Your mother still wreaking havoc in your life?"

 "She set me up on a date last week." He grumbled after a moment's hesitation. 

 In her mind, she could imagine him sitting at his desk with a slight furrow between his brows and lips pursed as he lamented his mother's involvement in his love life. This would not be the first time he complained to Kari about this topic. "Ohhhh? How did that go?" She asked, even if by his tone she could already guess his answer. 

 "I know my mother means well, but the women she thinks I should date…." He trailed off with a forlorn sigh. 

 "Not your type?"

 "No."

 "I'm sorry. You'll find someone and your mother won't be able to help but love them."

 He snorted inelegantly. "I won't hold my breath for that."

 "See, you're so wise." She teased, smiling as she folded a work shirt. "Now, what else is new since last month?"

 The two spent the next hour talking. It had become their tradition after she moved. Hearing the gentle cadence in his voice, his quiet chuckles, it sent a wave of nostalgia washing over her. He was the only person from England she still kept in communication with, the only one who knew where she was. The last string tying her to her prior life. Although she would not have labeled him her best friend, they were certainly close and even more so after she moved. In their monthly conversations, they would chat about anything new in their lives, TV shows watched, books read, his latest exams in university. He always made sure to inform her what he knew about her family. Something she was grateful for but it always felt like a knife to the heart after. 

 As they talked, she finished folding her laundry, a necessary evil in her opinion. Once done with that, she moved on to the package she received in the mail today. It was addressed to her but the sender was a designer name she would never be able to afford in her lifetime. She shook her head, wondering what surprise the youngest Lothbrok had bought for her. 

 Listening to him regale her with the latest family drama of his, she opened the package and had to muffle a gasp at the two dresses that lay inside. The first was an off-the-shoulder, black skater dress that would reach mid-thigh in length. It was a classy and elegant cocktail dress that reminded her of the dress she wore on her and Ivar's "date" but way more sophisticated and stylish. It was the second dress that made her pause and wonder where Ivar thought she would ever wear something like this. It was a deep red evening gown, the hem long enough to trail slightly on the ground. The dress was gorgeous with a tight bodice and slight flair of the skirt. It was the slit in the skirt that touched her upper thigh and the sheer middle of the bodice that made Kari raise her eyebrows. The gown was the perfect blend of chic and sexy. What was Ivar thinking? She would feel so self-conscious and she never went anywhere fancy enough to wear it. Though as she stared at both dresses, she decided it never hurt to admire them on the hanger, even if she never got the chance to wear them. As her friend continued speaking, she hung both dresses up in her closet, making a mental note to talk to Ivar. 

 "It's probably good your brother moved out last year." She commented, tucking her laundry basket away in her closet. 

 "Yeah. He only comes over to the house if he has to." He said with a resigned sigh. After a long moment of silence, he spoke up again. His voice hesitant, almost remorseful, as what had been obviously on the tip of his tongue finally came forth. "Your mother has been talking about trying to find you again."

 Kari froze, her mind shorting out and heart rate skyrocketing as his statement sunk in. "What…. what did she say?"

 "Not much that I overheard." He confessed, sympathy in each word. "How much she misses her only daughter and feels abandoned by you. She has been telling people that you're doing charity work in another country when they ask about you."

 "It's been almost two years… I hoped…" She slumped onto her bed, legs wobbling and mind whirling. 

 "That your mother would forget about you?"

 "I don't know. I just…. I don't know."

 Silence reigned for a moment before he spoke again. 

 "Are you ever coming home?"

 "I…. I don't think that's home anymore."

 "I miss you." He whispered. 

 Tears welled in her eyes. She took a deep breath forcing them back, but knew her shaky voice betrayed her. "I miss you too. Maybe you can come visit me here?"

 "That would blow your cover."

 "Could we meet up somewhere? You take a vacation or something?"

 "I'll consider it…." His voice trailed off, only to come back stronger. "You know, when you wanted help to leave England, I thought it was just a temporary reprieve. I didn't imagine you would stay away."

 It felt like a knife twisted in her gut, because he was right. She had never thought she would be gone this long. "I know…. I just…. I like my life here. I don't…. I don't want to go back to that."

 He sighed as if giving up on convincing her to return. "I understand. I'll always be here for you. I still think of you as one of my closest friends."

 "Same. We've known each other since we were thirteen. A few countries between us isn't going to stop that."

 He chuckled. "Right. Well, I'll still hold you to your promise. If we're both unmarried by thirty-five, we'll have a courthouse wedding to keep our families off our backs."

 "Sounds good." She laughed out, wiping the tears from her eyes. 

 "I have to go. I'll text you about when we can catch up next month."

 "Perfect. Stay safe, Albus."

 "You too, Abs."

 "Ugh! That nickname is worse than yours!" She groaned, hearing a small chuckle on the other end of the phone. "Bye!"

 After hanging up, she stared at her phone for a minute, the smile fading as her mind revisited the conversation. The weight of everything slammed into her, her body no longer able to support her under the strength of her duress. She crumpled onto her bed, curling into a fetal position, tears streaming down her cheeks. It hurt that England no longer felt like home to her, but neither did where she currently lived. What hurt and confused her most, was when she thought of being home- Ivar's face filled her mind's eye. 

 *****

 "Thank you everyone for coming to class today. I'll see you either tomorrow or next week." 

 With the lights still dim, Kari turned off the soothing water music over the speakers in the yoga studio room. The women who had been laying in corpse pose on their mats began to rise and gather up their personal items. A quiet murmur of voices replaced the music in the enclosed room. She waved at a few of the regulars as they left her class. Even if she was not the one doing all the poses, by the end of class she still felt refreshed and rejuvenated. It always brought her joy to see people come in, stressed or anxious, and leave her class with a smile on their faces or just looking less tense. 

 Through the mirrors along the wall at the front of the room, she could see the tall, statuesque blonde making her way over, yoga mat tucked under her arm. 

 "Hey, you doing anything for lunch?" Gyda asked, coming up beside her. Even in leggings and a tight tank top, she looked like someone off the covers of a women's magazine. All Kari could figure was it was in the Lothbrok blood. 

 "Um, working on inventory?"

 "How about instead you come out to lunch with us?" She motioned vaguely towards Torvi, who was gathering up her yoga mat. "We planned on stopping at that new boutique down the strip. So, we can just meet you for lunch when you're done."

 "Really?" The brunette was startled by the offer. Sure, she had gone out with Gyda a few times but never with Torvi too. The three would chat occasionally before or after class and she liked Torvi's no-nonsense attitude. They had flippantly made comments about the three of them going out but to actually hear they wanted her presence both surprised and warmed her heart. "Torvi is okay with this too?"

 Gyda rolled her eyes. "Yes. So…. Yes? No? Don't leave me in suspense."

 "Yeah, I'd love to."

 "Great. Text me when you're done and we'll meet up."

 "It'll be at least half an hour…." 

 Gyda waved her off, her voice growing louder. "That's fine. Torvi takes forever when she browses anyway."

 "Sorry, I like to think through my purchases before I buy something!"

 Kari smiled at Torvi's retort. The other blonde was checking her phone, a smile on her face though as she peered up at her sister-in-law and her yoga instructor. 

 "Are you joining us?" She called over. 

 "Of course, she is!" Gyda replied, before Kari could respond. "But she's only coming if you swear not to share any stories about you and Bjorn's kinky sex life. Nobody wants to hear that."

 Without a word, Torvi gave her the middle finger salute, before looking back down at her phone. 

 Gyda chuckled then turned to raise an eyebrow at the shorter woman. "Unless you're into that kind of stuff…."

 "Oh gods, Gyda! No!" Her face flushed at the thought. 

 "Hey, it's the quiet ones who are the kinkiest. I bet Ivar would like that." She laughed as Kari tried to swat at her. Taking a step back, she pretended to zip her lips. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. Text me when you're done! We can meet at the café down the street. " 

 Kari waved at Torvi as the two blondes walked out of the studio room. Quickly, she hurried to finish tidying up. It had been a long time since she felt this excited to go out to eat with some female friends. A handful of times she had gone out with some coworkers or Lydia. In the beginning she was excited when Alana would invite her out with her friends to a club or bar but Kari quickly learned that was not her scene and began making every excuse possible to not be forced out with them. She always felt like an afterthought amongst the group, especially since getting drunk nor sleeping around was not her style. This time, she had high hopes for spending time with Gyda and Torvi. It would be nice to have female friends again. 

 The door to the studio room opened and Lydia popped her head in. "Almost done? You've got a visitor out here and he's causing quite the distraction." She said with a distinct shit-eating grin and wink before ducking back out. 

 "He?" Kari questioned out loud, although her mind suspected who it was. He was the only one who ever visited her. Slipping her phone into the pocket of her maroon leggings, she gave the room one final survey, wanting it to be ready for the next class before she left. With a nod, she headed out, the door swinging shut behind her. 

 In the large open area, she understood what Lydia meant by 'causing quite the distraction'. If she paused for a moment to drink the sight in, no one could possibly know, right? 

 Ivar leaned his shoulder against a wall, arms crossed over his chest with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to display his toned forearms. His dark locks were pulled back loosely in a man-bun, a few tendrils slipped free. Even in jeans, braces and smart-looking leather shoes, he looked quite handsome. With no cane in sight, it must be a good day. 

 Kari noticed more than one pair of eyes lingering on him from around the studio although he did not seem to notice as he stood there talking with Gyda and Torvi in hushed tones. The latter said something that immediately caused Ivar to narrow his eyes at her as he snapped a comment. 

 Even from across the room, Kari could read the tension in his frame and decided to intervene before he caused a scene. Walking over to them, aware of the many sets of eyes upon the group of three, she fixed a smile on her face. Once those intense, blue eyes locked onto her and his posture softened marginally, her smile transitioned into a genuine grin. "Hey, Ivar, what are you doing here?" She asked, coming to stand between him and Gyda. 

 "Do I need a reason to come see you?" He smirked down at her.

 That look released butterflies in her stomach but she ignored them to tease him back. "Usually that's how it works."

 "And if that reason is to fulfill my quota?"

 The blush that rose to her cheeks was so hot, she wondered if you could fry an egg on her face. Immediately, she dropped her chin to her chest, willing the warmth to vanish. 

 "Hmmm…. that blush for me, kattungen?" He shifted closer so his mouth was near her ear, his question asked in such a lecherous tone, Kari felt her core clench. 

 "Shut up." She mumbled, pushing him away. He rocked back on his heels, a smug grin on his face, and an amused chuckle leaving his lips. 

 Gyda patted Kari's shoulder, drawing the brunette's attention upward again. "Text me when you're done. We'll leave you with this grumpy asshole. I'm sure you can think of a way to cheer him up." She winked as she took a step away. 

 For a moment, Kari wished the ground would open up beneath her. Between Gyda's teasing comments and Ivar's blatant remarks and heated looks, Kari's face was going to be permanently red in an endless flush. 

 "Good luck on your trip, Ivar." Torvi called over her shoulder as she followed Gyda. 

 "Oi! Tell Bjorn to keep his big fucking mouth shut!" He yelled after the blondes; the tension returned with Torvi's parting statement. Glaring at the door the two women passed through, he muttered something in a foreign language as he rubbed his hand over his mouth. Briefly, his thoughts seemed to take him elsewhere but he quickly snapped back, blue eyes finding Kari once again. 

 It was only something she had realized lately, but when he looked at her, that consuming and burning gaze landing on her with all the impact of a sledgehammer, it made her feel like the only woman in the room. It was such a cliché thing, something stupid out of a romance novel, but it was the only way she could describe the feeling. When he looked at her like this, nothing else mattered in the room. She had his whole attention, all his focus. It was heady and powerful and terrifying and astounding. The weight of others watching made her skin itch but with his gaze locked on hers, lips tilted up slightly in the hint of a fond smile, she felt in the eye of a hurricane. 

 Her blue-green eyes dropped to his chest, unable to maintain eye contact when it left her feeling so flustered. Tugging on her earlobe, she quietly asked. "What are you doing here? I thought I wasn't seeing you until you picked me up for dinner tonight?"

 "Something came up." Silently, he reached over and grasped her hand, causing her head to jerk up. Intertwining their fingers, he watched her with regret in his eyes. "I have to fly out to Italy in two hours."

 "Oh. Is everything okay?" That was not what she had expected to hear. Her heart plummeted that their dinner would have to be canceled but tried not to let it show. 

 "Is there somewhere we can talk in private?"

 "Um, sure." Emotions flickering between curiosity and concern, she guided him back to the studio room. The weight of eyes lingered as they walked, especially since he refused to release her hand. A brief glance at the front counter, only to see Lydia and Sasha both staring at her with amused and proud smiles, had Kari trying to hurry out of sight with Ivar in tow. 

 Soon as the door shut behind them, hiding them from view, he pulled her against his body, one arm wrapping around her waist, trapping her against him while the other hand gripped the back of her neck. He kissed her passionately, like a man dying of thirst and only she could save him. 

 "Ivar…." She tried to pull away, aware she was at work and anyone could walk in. Instead, he held her tighter, molding her body to his. The drugging kiss that followed had her all but melting against him, knees weak and her resolve disappearing like smoke in the wind. When she opened her mouth, inviting his tongue to dance with hers, the growl that erupted from him was so thready and rough, it called to a primal part of her, making her warm all over and a tightness grow in her belly. 

 It had been two days since they had seen each other and she genuinely missed him. They had been texting during that time, but it was not the same. She missed his presence, his touch, his kisses, his grumpy comments and the way he made her laugh. Even when he annoyed or frustrated her, he still was the color in her otherwise monochromatic world. And with each day that passed, her desire to push him away fractured a little bit more. 

 When their mouths finally unlocked, both panting and lips swollen and red, she was almost shocked the nearby mirrors were not fogged up. Breathless and overwhelmed, she pressed her forehead to his, her arms around his neck. For a minute they stood there peacefully, only the sounds of their ragged breathing and the occasional noise from those outside of the studio room broke through their tranquility. 

 "What's going on, Ivar?"

 "Something with work." 

 "Does this have to do with why you've been so busy?"

 He sighed but when he spoke in a hushed tone, the rage painting each word was undeniable. "Someone on the inside has been selling information about us." She gasped, shocked but when she tried to pull away to look at him, he tugged her back against him, placing his chin on the top of her head. "I think I know who the fucker is."

 "That's why you're going to Italy?"

 "Hmmm."

 "Will you be safe?"

 That made him chuckle, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Are you worried about me?"

 She thought about making a joke, about teasing him about his recklessness. Instead the question knocked the air from her lungs momentarily, because the truth was, she was. What little she had gleaned about his work when he needed to vent, there was still an element of danger to it. She tipped her face up to look at him, her answer a quiet murmur that did nothing to hide the emotion behind her words. "Yes…. I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt."

 The amusement in his eyes drained to be replaced with a softness that made her heart clench. He inhaled sharply and glanced away for a moment. "Fuck, kitten…." When he turned back, he kissed her tenderly, a slow melding of their mouths like the taste of her was a fine wine he wanted to sip on endlessly. There was a promise in his action, just as much as his words when he finally whispered against her lips. "I'll be safe, just meeting with a contact. That's all."

 "Okay, just please be careful." Worry still tainted her, but she trusted Ivar to keep himself safe. He had been doing this job far longer than she had known him. 

 "Don't tell anyone about what I've said. No one else knows."

 "I promise. Not a word."

 "Good girl." He swatted her ass, making her squeak and glare up at him. "I'm going to have Hvitserk check up on you later."

 "That's not necessary." She tried to say. She would hate to be a waste of time for the older Lothbrok. The look he gave her said to not argue with him. "Fine," she dramatically sighed, "maybe him and I will watch movies and cuddle since you're soooo busy. I wonder if he'd think my bed is comfy enough or if the couch is better?"

 "Don't you fucking dare." He growled, gripping her waist in a possessive hold. 

 She just laughed at how easy he was to wind up. It was mean and she knew it. 

 He nipped at her bottom lip. "Keep playing, Kari and I'll have to punish you."

 "I have no idea what you're talking about." She batted her lashes at him, failing to suppress a childish giggle. 

 He rolled his eyes, the twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement. "I need to go." He softly said though he made no move to release her from his arms. 

 With that a wave of worry and fear cascaded over her, it was unfounded she knew, but it still threatened to drag her into its depths. Not giving it a second thought, she raised up on her toes to plant a lingering kiss on his lips. 

 "You're not helping." He muttered, never removing his mouth from hers. 

 "Maybe take the next flight?"

 "Don't tempt me, vixen. I'll lock that door and have my wicked way with you right fucking here until everyone hears you screaming my name."

 Between the image he painted in her mind and his mouth having moved to her pulse point, heated arousal pooled between her legs. She gulped, her mouth suddenly dry and words sticking to her throat.

 He leaned back, a devious smirk on his lips at her obviously flushed face. "No, my priestess," he purred, a filthy, predatory glint in his blue eyes, she could not help but gasp as her knees threatened to buckle under her. "When I finally have you, it'll be somewhere I can both worship you and fuck you all night long without fear of being interrupted."

 She let out a shaky breath. "But, um…. we…. ah."

 "Soon, Vakker, blir du min." He kissed her roughly, as if sealing his words. "I do need to leave. Walk with me." He took her hand, leading her out of the studio room, giving her no choice but to walk beside him. Not that her brain was fully able to make coherent decisions at the moment. 

 As they walked towards the front of the building, she wondered if their make-out session was obvious. Her lips felt red and swollen and a blush still colored her cheeks. A glance at Ivar showed his lips fuller but he appeared so calm and collected it was unfair. 

 "Did you like the dresses?" He asked, breaking her out of her thoughts. 

 "I do. They both are gorgeous, but they're too much. I don't have a reason to dress up that fancy."

 "With me, you will. I'll get you some casual dresses too."

 "Ivar…." She whined. 

 "You need more clothes, Kari."

 "Fine. Not because I want more clothes but because I know you'll buy them for me anyway."

 He winked at her, his tone smug. "I always get my way."

 "You're unbelievable."

 They stopped beside his SUV, parked next to the sidewalk. His driver was already in the driver's seat waiting. Kari made sure to wave at the man, earning a nod back from him. The driver was a huge guy with long, thick locks of white hair and a scar on his face. He intimidated Kari but she tried to ignore that and be friendly. Even if Ivar made fun of her for it. 

 "I should be back tomorrow unless some shit comes up." Ivar stated, opening the back door. 

 "Okay. Be safe."

 "Stop worrying. Shit. I'll be fine." He remarked, sliding into his seat. Before he closed the door, he met her gaze. "I'll text you."

 She smiled in acknowledgment and stepped back, giving him a quick wave as she headed back inside and his SUV started off.  

 Lydia leaned against the front counter with Sasha and Alicia now, all three watching her with expressions ranging from amused to shocked. 

 "Um, I'm going to…. go on my lunch break now." She mumbled and hurried away to grab her purse from the office, the sounds of laughter following her. 

 The stray thought crossed her mind that she would need some new bras if Ivar was set on buying her new clothes. Not that he would see those bras, but it would be good to have…. and maybe some matching panties.

 *****

 Summer was transitioning to fall, cool undertones intermixed with the residual warmth of a September evening. 

 Kari stared at the book in her lap but the words blurred together no matter how many times she reread the same line. She loved reading outside, sitting on the small patio behind the townhouse, especially when none of the neighbors were out. She could pretend it was her own place of solace, being out in nature. The sunlight shined through the line of pine trees separating their row of townhouses from the ones behind them, bird songs mixed with the sound of traffic from the nearby roads. She much preferred this too being stuck indoors. 

 Today though, her mind drifted like the breeze, but it all centered on a conversation she had not even ten minutes ago. If she listened closely, she could hear Alana through the screen door, making her dinner in the kitchen. She knew it was not Alana's fault, but the conversation still felt like a rug had been yanked from underneath the brunette. With everything going so well in her life, of course fate had to throw her a curveball. 

 Now her mind scrambled as what to do next. 

 A sound from her left had her glance over to see Erik stepping out of his back door. A boyish grin lit up his face when he saw her. 

 "Hi, Kari. Beautiful evening, isn't it?"

 "Yeah. It is." She gave a half-hearted smile, watching as he closed the door behind him and stepped closer. 

 "Mind if I join you?"

 She waved a hand at the patio set. "Not at all." Hopefully talking with Erik would be the distraction she needed for the moment, to pull her out of her quagmire of thoughts. 

 Dropping onto the cushioned chair to her left, he ran a hand through his dirty blond hair. In jeans and a t-shirt, he appeared ready to relax for the evening. 

 "What are you reading this time?" He asked curiously. This would not be the first time he had found her outside reading. 

 She reclined on the two-person, cushioned couch, legs up and bent with her open book resting against her thighs, wearing her typical leggings and slouchy shirt. At his question, she flashed him the cover. "The Princess Bride."

 "Isn't that a movie?"

 She pretended to gasp in horror. "Yes, but the book is still a classic."

 He raised his hands in surrender, grin spreading across his face. “If you say. Not really my taste. So how was your day?"

 "Nothing exciting. Yours?"

 "The usual. Customers thinking they could do my job better than me."

 She winced. "I know the feeling."

 They made small talk for some time, talking about work and a documentary he recommended for her to watch. They argued which was the better coffee shop nearby, something they continuously disagreed on. Soon the upsetting conversation with Alana drifted to the back of her mind. It did not take long for her to close her book and set it on the ground so she could be fully invested in the conversation, especially when Erik became so animated about a topic, his hands waving around like a conductor in his enthusiasm. It was an endearing trait of his, but also alerted her to settle in because it meant he would not need much encouragement to keep talking. 

 The opening of the sliding door behind Kari stunted their conversation.

 "Kari, someone is here for you." Alana said sweetly, stepping out onto the patio. 

 Unsure what she meant and since Kari never had visitors except for Ivar, she finally turned around. Only to be met with the view of Hvitserk leaning against the doorframe, a smirk on his lips. Standing there looking quite handsome in a dark navy business suit with a white undershirt, sans tie. Even his hair was nicely pleated back, making him look very professional and attractive. 

 "What are you doing here?" She asked in surprise, wondering if he just got off work. 

 Pushing off the doorframe, he meandered past Alana to approach Kari's side. "I came to check on you." He answered easily then scooped her up like she weighed nothing, making her squeal, and casually resettled them on the couch. Now he sat where she had been with her tucked against his side and his arm behind her. She also noticed how he purposefully put himself between her and Erik but chose not to comment on that. 

 "Ivar sent you, didn't he?" She grumbled, poking Hvitserk in the chest. "I told him it wasn't necessary."

 "Well, you know him." He shrugged, that teasing smirk still adorning his lips. When she tried to poke him again, he snatched her hand and held it hostage, even as she tried to tug it back. Ignoring her, he turned his attention to Erik. "Hey, man. I'm Hvitserk."

 "I'm Erik. I live next door." He responded warily, eyeing up the man as if debating to be friendly or not. 

 "Ah." With that understanding, Hvitserk seemed to give Erik a more assessing look before peering down at Kari. "You eat dinner yet?"

 "Sorta. I'm not too hungry."

 Alana spoke up from leaning against the other chair. "If you're hungry we can order something, Hvitserk. It's not a big deal."

 Kari's head whipped around to stare at her roommate in shock. Never had Alana played the hostess to Kari or anyone she knew. Then she really noticed the coquettish look of her roommate- the fluttering lashes, the sensual biting of her bottom lip in mock innocence, the way she casually leaned against the chair in a way to best highlight the curves of her body. Kari wanted to sigh. Of course, the only reason Alana pretended to care was to try and entice Hvitserk. An attractive man in their home, it was as if Alana could not help herself. 

 Apparently the flaxen-haired Lothbrok noticed her flirtatious manner also. He tipped his head, eyes blatantly tracing over her body with appreciation. Kari could see the blonde preening under Hvitserk's gaze. 

 "Did I fuck you?"

 What confident, amorous expression on Alana's face dropped in a second. "Excuse me?"

 Hvitserk waved a hand dismissively. "Sorry, you seem familiar but I can't remember…. Did you fuck one of my brothers?"

 Anger transformed her face, making her rigid and lip curled back in a snarl. "Fuck you, asshole." She shrieked, then stormed back inside, slamming the door shut. 

 He chuckled. "Huh. I take that as a yes…. ouch!"

 Kari slapped his chest. "That was extremely rude and insensitive."

 "Why? Because it's the truth?"

 "You can't just…. ask something like that." She turned to look at the closed door, wondering if she should go apologize to Alana and check on her. After a moment's debate, she turned away from the townhouse, figuring seeking out Alana would most likely end up with a door slammed in her face. 

 Hvitserk shrugged, pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking it before slipping it back in.  

 His nonchalance baffled Kari. Did he not care that he just humiliated her roommate? Should she make him apologize? Though she doubted he would. Finally, she settled for just muttering, "you Lothbroks are unbelievable."

 "Oh, are you related to…." Erik's question trailed off. Where he once had been relaxed back in the cushioned chair, now he sat tensely, one of his hands tapping his knee repeatedly. 

 "Ivar? Yeah, he's my brother." Hvitserk said with a knowing smirk. 

 "He's, um…"

 "A crazy, mad bastard? Yeah. Don't recommend getting on his bad side."

 "I was going to say intense."

 Hvitserk threw his head back as he laughed. Even Kari smiled at the hesitant way Erik answered. Intense was an understatement for the youngest Lothbrok. "Yeah, he's family." 

 Erik then motioned between Kari and Hvitserk. "So are you two…. just friends?"

 Before Kari could explain, Hvitserk jumped in to answer. 

 "Ivar and I share her."

 Immediately Kari choked on air due to his candid response. Her gaze darted to Erik in horror, seeing his jaw dropped and eyes wide as saucers. Beside her Hvitserk cackled like a hyena at both of their expressions. 

 "That's not…. ugh! No!" Kari tried to speak, once she could functionally breathe again, only to cover her face as her words tumbled out of her mouth inelegantly. 

 "Awww, come on, Kari. You know I'm teasing." The elder Lothbrok tugged her hands away from her face, which only caused her to bury her face in his shoulder. "We know Ivar doesn't share. But if you ever get tired of his cranky ass, I'll be more than willing to show you a good time."

 "Oh my god." She mumbled to herself, completely mortified. The evening had been going so well, and now…. all of this. Whose grave had she accidently stepped on today? 

 Erik awkwardly cleared his throat as he rose to his feet. "Um, I'm going to go."

 "I'm so sorry, Erik." She elbowed Hvitserk when he refused to release her hands, earning an 'oof' from him. Turning her body to give Erik her full attention, she continued, hoping this had not ruined their friendship or his night. "I know this is last minute but do you think you can give me a ride to work tomorrow? If you don't want to, that's fine, especially after all of this, I wouldn't blame you."

 "No, no. I mean, sure. It's not a problem. Just, ah, text me when you're ready."

 She smiled gratefully at him. "I will. Have a good night, Erik!"

 "You too, Kari." He gave her his signature boyish grin. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he looked at Hvitserk. "Nice meeting you."

 "Yeah, nice meeting you too." He said back, draping his arm once again behind Kari. 

 Erik gave Kari another brief smile before disappearing back inside his townhouse, the door sliding quietly shut behind him. 

 Hvitserk continued to stare where Erik disappeared for a long minute before muttering, "boy better watch himself."

 "What are you talking about?" She sighed out, feeling the lurking sensation of a stress headache coming on.  

 "He wants to fuck you. Ivar won't like that."

 "What is with…. No. I'm ignoring all of that." She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. "Ugh, my evening was going so well until an hour ago."

 "What happened? That guy showed up to bother you? Want me to tell him to lay off?" His questions came out in rapid-fire, concern infused in his voice. 

 "No, Erik is fine. It's …. it's nothing like that."

 "So, what happened?"

 "Nothing important. Have you heard from Ivar?"

 He raised a brow at her dismissal but changed the subject. "Yeah, looks like he got what he needed so he'll be back tomorrow morning."

 "Oh good."

 "Hmmm…. which means he'll want to take you out tomorrow."

 "He bought me some dresses." She softly confessed, fiddling with her diamond stud earring. 

 "I'd recommend wearing one of those."

 She swatted at him, only to mirror the easy grin on his face. After a moment, she asked, "I just…. is it weird for him to do that?" 

 "What?"

 "Buy me stuff."

 "Does it bother you?"

 "I don't know."

 "If you want my advice, I'd say to let him." He lifted a finger to silence her protest. Her mouth snapped shut at his pointed look. Once he was sure she would not interrupt him, he spoke. "Ivar has never been good with…. verbally expressing affection, something I am sure he learned from our father. So he buys gifts, something he can touch and control. If he's buying you gifts, not out of obligation but because he wants to spoil you, then you mean a lot to him."

 She pondered his words and how she felt about them. Never did she want Ivar to feel taken advantage of by her, especially in regards to his money. She would rather tear her own heart out than make him feel used again. It grated slightly how freely he wasted money on her. The dresses were lovely, something she could only dream of having with her current salary. But she worked hard for her life, to be independent. Even whenever they went out to eat together, he never let her pay for her own meal. She had given up that fight already but this…. It felt different. Yet what Hvitserk said slunk back to the forefront of her mind. If this was his way of showing affection, of letting her know he cared about her, would it do more damage to refuse his gift?

 "How did you become so insightful into Ivar?" She teased, deciding to think about this more later. 

 He laughed, flicking her ear with the hand he still had behind her. "Out of necessity. I don't think anyone can fully understand him, not even himself."

 "He's complex." She agreed. 

 "That's a nice way of putting it." He tipped his head to the side to meet her gaze. "Now, tell me what happened earlier."

 "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

 "Ivar told me to check on you. If I left you trying to hide tears and he found out, he'd probably break my hands or legs, not sure how particular he would be."

 Biting her bottom lip, she debated blowing him off again. It was not his problem, she could deal with her own issues. But there was something about Hvitserk that made her feel comfortable around him. Even though he was under no obligation, he seemed to actually care about her. 

 Finally, she gave in with a sigh, laying her head against his shoulder. "Alana said…. Um, this townhouse belongs to her uncle. Him and his family moved into a bigger home and instead of selling this place decided to rent it out for a little extra cash. The rent is minimal, since he isn't renting to really make a profit. It's honestly the only way I've been able to afford being here. Well, Alana told me earlier that he is having to increase our rent. She didn't really tell me why but now it's going to be an extra 300 a month…. and I don't have that. So unless I want to find somewhere new to live, it kind of looks like I need to get a second job."

 He waited a moment before flatly stating, "have Ivar pay the extra. Fuck, he'd probably pay your whole rent if you asked him too."

 "No! I don't want that!" She sat up so fast, it was a miracle she did not fall off the couch. Her eyes turned to the brother beside her, wide and pleading. "Please don't tell him, Hvitty! I don't want him thinking I'm using him for his money. I…. I need to do this on my own somehow. I'll figure it out, honestly. I just wasn't expecting this to happen, that's all."

 "You really don't care about our money, do you?"

 "No." It broke her heart a little at the shock in his questioning tone. Did any of them ever expect someone to care about them without the influence of their money? 

 He stared off into the distance before looking back at her with a solemn expression. "I'll make you a deal. I won't say anything to Ivar about this, but if you are struggling, even if it's just one month's payment, you come to me and I'll help until you get your head above water again, got it?"

 "Why would you want to help me?" She quietly asked, meeting his gaze. 

 He smirked. "I like you. You're genuine. Plus, you're also great for Ivar. I'd like you to stick around and if this is one way to help with that, it's an easy solution." He narrowed his eyes at her as she started to protest again. "Don't fight me on this."

 "You Lothbroks are unbelievable. Fine." She laid her head back on his shoulder. "Thank you, Hvitserk…. and thanks for coming to check on me."

 "Anytime. You've got my number. Just cause you're Ivar's woman doesn't mean we can't be friends. But my offer still stands, if you get sick of him, I'll be the first to snatch you up."

 She laughed, heart feeling lighter than it had all afternoon. "Stop. I'm not Ivar's woman."

 "You keep telling yourself that."

 They sat quietly for a few minutes, watching the sky change colors. 

 "Mmmm…."

 "What?" She looked up at him. 

 He peeked down at her with a shit-eating grin. "I still can't remember if I fucked your roommate or not."

 "Gods, Hvitserk!"

 *****

 Before she fell asleep that night, she checked her phone one last time. A jolt of elation shot through her when she saw an unread text from Ivar. Her fingers fumbled with how quickly she tried to unlock her phone to read the text. 

 Ivar: good nite, kitten. C u 2morrow.

 A silly smile on her face, she replied. 

 Kari: sweet dreams, Ivar.

 After that, she plugged in her phone and curled up under her covers. Relief and excitement bled into her veins, allowing her to drift off to sleep with thoughts of the dark-haired Lothbrok coming home to her.

#vikings #MODERN VIKINGS #vikings ivar #vikings fanfiction #vikings fandom #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #ivar lothbrok #modern ivar #ivar x oc #ivar x ofc #modern!ivar x oc #modern!ivar #ivar's heathen army #Hvitserk #Hvitserk Ragnarsson #hvitserk lothbrok #to call forth love #mzwrites

[candychronicles]

elysian // s. daichi

A/N: my take on the Haikyuu Headquarters mythology nsfw collab! this was my first time writing for Daichi. i took a greek myth route and had so much fun!!

CHARACTER PAIRING: Daichi Sawamura x F!reader

WORD COUNT: 2,859

WARNINGS: manipulation, oral (F!receiving), mentions of several religions

SYNOPSIS: all your life you had been fighting only to end up at a boring 9-5 with nowhere to turn. Daichi has a proposition and you accept without realizing the consequences. 

Want to read more myths and legends? Click here! 

you were always fascinated with the idea of something larger than you, something so fantastical and great that it consumed the earth over and over again. while many people turned to other religions or no religion at all, satiating their own desires for redemption, love and acceptance, you chose to dig deeper, look at what truly resonated with your life and dutifully settled upon the greek gods. 

they didn’t sugarcoat the bad things they did, that they used their power any way they pleased, that they were stronger, faster and larger than life. they were powerful gods who held powerful positions and were unpredictable, wild and fluid in their dance with humanity. you admired the stories from years ago of how they defeated the titans and split the land between the three sons: the skies for Zeus, the seas for Poseidon and the underworld for Hades. 

Hades had always spoken to you in a way you couldn’t describe. when you worshipped him needing guidance, offering him dark chocolate and sweet, rich red wines, he complied with very little hesitation, always wanting to seemingly please you as long as you kept up your worshipping of him. he became quite moody, jealous and wouldn’t want to talk to you for days if you spent too much time interacting with the other gods. to be frank, you loved the attention he showered you with and felt at ease knowing he would protect you for life.

sighing, you pulled your apron tight around your waist, ready for another day at work slinging coffees and cakes to the less than pleasant customers that walked through the door. being a barista seemed like fun in cliche stories and movies but it was actually just another job that got you through your boring summer. 

it only took an hour before people began screaming and shouting, angry at your lack of speed and pleasant smile on your face. it was just you and two other people there serving a line of ten plus at any given time and while you all tried your best, things never seemed to go the way they were planned.

“one large coffee, black.”

you took a deep breath before plastering a smile on your face, giving the man with the honey sweet voice a price and looking up, the smile threatening to spill onto your cheeks as you recognized Daichi, one of your favorite customers and now good friends.

“thought you might need one friendly face among the crowd of crazy,” he joked, tapping his sleek black credit card against the machine to pay, making sure to leave a hefty tip before nodding and walking away.

he sat for another two hours in the shop, nursing on his coffee and working on his laptop as he waited for you to get a break. when the line finally died down, your rushed from behind the counter and plopped yourself down in the booth across from him.

“what brings your handsome face around here?” you asked, tapping your feet against the ground as the anxiety of the day began to wear off.

“coming to see you as always,” he replied smoothly, downing the last of his coffee before placing the cup back on the table.

“you haven’t been around for awhile,” you pouted, not caring that you sounded desperate.

“i’m sorry but you know work can get oddly busy at times. how about i make it up to you? dinner, tonight at seven? my treat, anywhere you want to go.”

you gaped at him, not sure of what to say. you two had been flirting for months, the only friendly face you had really seen outside of the occasional older lady who always bought you a snack or drink for being so kind and patient with them. he was always sweet as candy, sugary words viscously flowing out of his mouth. at first you thought he was just some tightwad business man looking to get into your pants but as you got to know him, you realized he was just naturally kind, always looking out for the underdog. he treated you with the respect and decency that you deserved and maybe you were just so used to being treated like shit most of the time but his upfront and honest nature just blew you away.

before you had a chance to even reply, he looked at his phone, frowned and stood up.

“i’ll see you at seven, text me your address, yeah?”

with that and a gentle caress of your chin, he practically dissolved into thin air. you blinked once, twice, three times trying to process what had just happened before digging into your pocket to text him your address, not even remembering giving him your number but sure enough, there he sat in your contact with a simple flower next to his name.

the rest of the day went by in a blur and before you knew it, you were sitting on your couch, donned in your best dress, sparkling earrings dangling from your ears and shiny jewels adorning your body. you frowned as you checked the time, noticing it was already ten past seven. just as you were about to give up, you received a text from Daichi.

i’m sorry princess. something big came up at work. i’ll make it up to you. first thing in the morning, dress for the outdoors and bring a jacket, it’ll be a bit chilly where we’re going. i’ll see you then.

you huffed, throwing your phone down on the couch before stuffing your face in your hands, trying not to cry. you began methodically undressing yourself, taking off all your accessories and makeup, barely listening to the TV in the back drone on about some factory explosion that had happened in the next town over, killing two hundred people practically at once. you stopped to share some of the jewels with Hades, lighting his black flame and watching it dance in excitement, thanking him for never leaving you, even in the harshest of times. with all the makeup off, the dress peeled from your body and your shiny jewels laid on the table, you collapsed in bed, too tired and confused to dress yourself again.

a knock on the door had you scrambling off of your bed, hurrying to find a robe before peeking through the peephole to see who woke you up at such an early time on your rare day off. your eyes widened in surprise before squeaking, peeling the door open just a pinch to greet Daichi who held a rather large bouquet of flowers in his hand, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck and squinting his eyes as he held the petals out towards you.

“Daichi, i-”

“i’m real sorry about last night. crazy last minute meeting, totally unexpected. i promised i’d make it up to you though, right?”

you opened the door to him at that, blushing when you realized you were only in your robe before practically sprinting to your bedroom to begin getting ready. when you were ready, jacket in hand, you walked back out, a sheepish smile on your face.

“i uh, really didn’t think you would be here in the morning. thought you were just trying to lead me on or something,” you confessed.

“now doll, i think you know me better than that by now,” he chastised, standing up from your couch to offer you his arm.

you took it instantly, a bounce in your step as you followed him out of your apartment, listening to the door close with a resounding thud. 

it took only a few minutes before you were sat in his sleek black car practically oozing with the feeling of money. you gingerly sat down in the leather seats, instantly feeling drowsy. shaking your head, you tried to fight it off but was stopped by Daichi.

“it’ll be a little bit of a drive before we get to where we’re going. you can take a nap, it’s okay. i’m a safe driver. i promise i won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

with his soothing words, you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, allowing yourself to be completely relaxed in his presence.

a small jerk woke you up and you blinked, looking out the window to see fields and fields of picture perfect flowers. you were practically surrounded by them, the only clearing being the dirt road you came on and patch of grass leading up to a hill.

“Daichi…” you breathed, speechless by the beauty of the location.

“c’mon, lets eat.”

you practically scurried out of the car, eyes wide as you continued to scan your surroundings. he dutifully began taking the picnic out of the car, setting down the blanket, basket, food and drink in a tasteful and elegant way. you absolutely melted seeing all the delicious food that was laid out for you. before you had a chance to eat, however, Daichi grabbed you by the waist, pulling you into his arms and looking you in the eyes.

“y’know, i’ve been absolutely fascinated with you since the first day i met you, all doe-eyed and innocent. the world has knocked you down so many times and yet you still get back up to fight another day. tell me, if i offered you a life of luxury, of eternal peace, full of love and richness, never having to work a day in your life if you didn’t want to, would you take it?”

you were taken aback by his words, not understanding where they were coming from. sure, you two had spent so much time chatting at your coffee shop, sharing your hopes and dreams with him, confiding in him like you would no one else, but you didn’t realize he had taken it all to heart, that he had actually fallen in love with you like you him. you didn’t even realize in that moment that you had even really loved him until he said those words, looked deep into your soul like he knew everything about you and then some.

“i mean, if you’re offering, yeah, i think i’d like a life like that, but maybe once i got to know you first,” you only half joked, wanting to know more about him, a sucker for an idyllic life.

“just say yes and you can spend all the time in the world getting to know me.”

“yes, Daichi, i would take it in a heartbeat.”

he surged forward with that, lips attaching to your own with such ferocity that you weren’t even sure what to do. he tasted like rich chocolate, wine and coffee, a delicious medley on your tongue as you reacted on instinct alone. something about this, with him, felt so right. your head was muddled with thoughts of Daichi and only Daichi, a man who was so mysterious and yet so supportive, always there when you needed him, seemingly popping up out of the blue on your worst days. listening to your problems with a frown on his face, doing everything he possibly could to make you feel better, never overstepping his boundaries and cherishing the time you spent together like there was no tomorrow.

he whispered sweet nothings in your ear as he took you to the ground, flowers crunching around your body as he laid on top of you, nipping and sucking at the delicate skin of your neck, relishing in the way you went breathless just from his lips alone.

“tell me that you want me, that you need me, that you worship me, that i’m the only man you’ll ever need,” he commanded, popping the buttons open on your shirt and ravishing your chest, tweaking your bare nipples in his hands, the cold shocking you to the core.

“you’re all i’ll ever need, Daichi,” you confirmed, too consumed in your own pleasure, wanting to feel more and more of him until he was all you could think of.

“let me take care of you princess.”

with that, he delicately pulled your shirt off, your pants coming down next, your underwear not receiving such a kind fate as they were cruelly ripped off your body. you gasped as you felt his hot breath on your thigh, squirming underneath his touch, the way his tongue danced along your inner thigh, flesh sinking in between his teeth. you whined at the way his cold fingers ghosted over your clit, just barely there but enough to make you go crazy.

“Daichi, please, i need you, please.”

he complied without resistance, his tongue darting out to kitten lick your clit, relishing in the way you instantly melted underneath his touch. you were absolutely enraptured with the way he felt against your body, the cool of his hand tracing seemingly meaningless patterns against your silky inner thigh, his other sinking into your heat, enveloping his digits with warmth, something he rarely felt, his tongue licking and sucking on your bud like your life depended on it. it was all too much, the feeling of him on top of you, doting on you like you were everything to him and you came suddenly, pulsating around his fingers, your own carded in his hair to ground yourself, tears leaking out of your eyes at the sheer feeling of him, only him.

he slowly calmed you down from your high, eyes never leaving his body as his fingers gently continued to pump in and out of you, his other hand continuing to soothe your body, kisses placed anywhere he could reach. when you were finally calm, he removed his fingers, still cold despite the warmth the received, and licked them clean, watching as your eyes rolled in the back of your head at the sight of him worshipping you.

“let’s get you cleaned up and get some food in you, yeah?”

he spent the next few minutes gently wiping you off, dressing you back in most of your clothes sans the underwear he destroyed, a sheepish and apologetic smile on his face as he promised to buy you a new pair, no matter the price. you shrugged your jacket on over your shoulders, finally noticing how cold it was, a chill running straight to your core as you tightened clothing around you.

after a few moments of catching your breath, you stood up with the help of Daichi, walking over to the picnic and sitting down, mouth drooling at the sight of food, suddenly ravenous.

“were you really serious about saying yes, about being mine forever?”

“like i said Daichi, i do want to get to know you better, but i can’t deny i’m not falling in love with you. something about you feels familiar, like you’ve been with me my whole life, like you know me better than i know myself. i feel so comfortable and safe around you. so yes, call me a dumb romantic, but i was serious about that.”

with a satisfied nod, he began feeding you, watching you closely as you swallowed food after food, a delighted smile on your face. you felt stronger, more relaxed, less cold and certainly happier eating and drinking, taking the time to really talk to Daichi, learn about him, his thoughts and feelings, some of his tragic past and your heart hurt more and more as you listened to him.

when all was said and done, you stood up, wiping the crumbs off your body as looked at Daichi, a smile plastered on your face.

“when are you taking me home?” you questioned, looking around the field to see if you could spot anything else to do.

“well, my dear, whenever you’re ready, i’ll show you your new home right away. after all, what kind of king would i be if i didn’t let my queen see her palace right away?”

“what?” you questioned, looking at him quizzically. 

when he stood up, you noticed the whole mood had shifted and so did the world. the flowers, as bright and beautiful as they were, were no longer illuminated by a brilliant sun but rather a striking moon, darkness encircling your very body. you felt cold and yet not cold at all, like it was a very part of your being. Daichi seemed to stand immortally tall before you, an air of authority that was not there before. beautiful houses scattered the flowerbeds, people milling about, people from stories you had read to soothe yourself to sleep as you dreamt of one day being a hero of your own.

“Daichi, what is going on?” you asked, frightened and confused.

“well, doll, i did ask you several times to make sure but i knew in my heart that you would come to accept and eventually love this life as i have,” he started, gesturing for you to turn around to look out behind you, a whole world opening up in front of your eyes, “this is the underworld, i am Hades, you’re currently in the Elysian Fields, now that you ate the food down here, you are an immortal part of me and this, my queen, is your new home.” 

#daichi x reader #daichi sawamura #haikyuu #haikyu #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #hqhq #hqhq server collab

[thewhiteroseofvermilion]

Moving Forward

Hello everyone. It’s been a long time since I’ve last spoken to you all, and an even longer time since I’ve last updated this story. Over the months and years, my absence has saddened, frustrated, and even angered many of you. Despite my own valid feelings of how—to put it bluntly—I don’t owe any of you anything as this is something I do for free and in my own free time, I still recognize how it must feel for you all to see something you enjoy so much slowly lose momentum and eventually grind to a halt. Furthermore, my habit of making enthusiastic yet empty statements in between didn’t help either. 

As such, a proper and honest explanation is due, as anything less would be unkind. This will be lengthy, but please bear with me. 

For the past four years, it’s been increasingly difficult to find the time, energy, and motivation for me to properly sit down and write. Seemingly gone are the early days of this story’s life when I was able to publish a new chapter every month or so, or even every two weeks when I was at the top of my game in terms of activeness. Even though I had an immense workload due to being a double major in college, leading me to adopt the best work ethic I’ve ever had, I still led a sheltered lifestyle where I didn’t have to worry about the many looming, inevitable adult responsibilities that were ahead of me.

Those tranquil years of course came to an end when I graduated, and I soon felt immense pressure to shift my attention to finding work, living independently, and working on things that would further my career. While I received support as an aspiring writer from the majority of my family, those being my mother and sister, the both of them commented more frequently as time passed by that my “fanfiction” wasn’t something that I should be spending so much time on anymore. After all, it’s not like I could sell the work as my own, and the fact that despite fanfiction absolutely being a valid artform, it wasn’t something that the world of professional employers cared about. 

Nonetheless, when I did eventually find work as a film freelancer, I still tried to persevere and write on the side. My goal back then was to work in film in order to sustain my pursuit in writing. Film was something I went to school for, greatly enjoyed, and even saw a possible future career for myself in, but it was the writing aspect of it that I was truly after, that being primarily screenwriting. 

After two years of living at home, I felt the need to try and live independently as I outgrew my tiny room and my mom started dating a man that I didn’t particularly like. I knew it wasn’t financially smart of me to do so when my mom allowed me to live with her rent-free. But at the time I thought that it would help me to become more mature and productive, as I would have to force myself to work in order to put a roof over my head and food on the table—as opposed to living a sheltered life at home where everything was taken care of for me. Essentially, I was longing for the lifestyle I had in college, thinking that once I returned to it, I would be able to reacquire that once incredible work ethic I had. 

So, I became roommates with a friend from college and together we rented a townhouse together. Rent wasn’t terribly expensive, but it wasn’t cheap either. Regardless, I was able to make ends meet. My greatest challenge however, was to live up to my family’s spoken and unspoken expectations. On one hand, my mother was sweet and understanding, naturally giving me her full support. My father, on the other, always thought that it’d be better for me to pursue something safer and more lucrative, and to not risk being a starving artist. But the one I had to prove myself the most to was my older sister, who was wildly more successful than I was—financially and professionally. My pay compared to hers was like a drop in a bucket, and I felt both indirect and direct pressure from her to be more “professional” like her. Therefore, I threw myself into my work, which is when things slowly began to go downhill. 

As a film freelancer, my work hours usually averaged between 10-12 hours a day, and with my work taking me all over my home state of Maryland and even into neighboring Washington DC and Virginia, my commute time to and from work ranged anywhere from an additional 1-3 hours. It became incredibly common for me to wake up for work anywhere between 3-6 AM and not get home until 8-10 PM. 

Unbeknownst to me at the time, I slowly slipped into a routine where when I did have the “time” to write, I had zero energy or motivation as my work was so taxing. I reached the point where I had to drink two energy drinks with 300mg of caffeine to get myself to and from work. I saw less and less of my roommate and friends. I spent an alarming amount of money and gained weight from ordering take-out so often because I hadn’t the energy to cook for myself when I got home late from work. There would even be days when I fell into what felt like comas, sleeping up to two days straight at one point. My physical, mental, and emotional health was in serious decline. And yet I didn’t see it that way, as I had become obsessed with trying to prove to my family, my sister in particular, that I wasn’t a failure and that my pursuit of writing wasn’t a hopeless one.

During the first month of COVID-19′s outbreak last year, I finally had a much-needed vacation. This was undoubtedly the best time for me to have returned to writing—but I didn’t. At this point, so much time had passed since my last proper writing session that the few times I did try to write, I found myself completely unable to write anything. I was so out of practice and so out of touch with what I had written. This honestly frightened me, and I soon began to doubt if I could ever be able continue the story with the same quality that so many readers fell in love with. Regrettably, I fled from this revelation long enough for a full month to pass by, and I soon found myself busy with yet another distraction: unemployment. 

I was out of work for about 4.5 months, from the middle of March to the beginning of August. During this time, I had to rely on state unemployment, which earned me great scorn from my older sister. Our relationship had always been uneven since we were kids, but it was becoming increasingly toxic as of late since our college years. I felt so ashamed to tell her how much money I made in a year from my job as a film freelancer, and how I barely managed to move to a better position after four years of work. Riddled with guilt and disappointment in myself, when work became readily available again in August, I frantically threw myself back in harder than ever before. In the past where I had turned down the occasional job to give myself some time to relax or in order to make it to a social outing with friends, I now accepted every job thrown my way, only declining those that would make me double-book myself. I earned a lot of money during those months as a result, and I was so happy to finally distance myself from the stigma of being “unemployed.” However, I once again failed to see that I was yet again sliding back into the lifestyle that had been slowly poisoning me for the past two years. 

After essentially working non-stop from August to March, my body, mind, and soul soon returned right back to the brink of collapse. It wasn’t until then at my lowest point when I finally realized how I initially went from working to sustain myself in order to write, to not writing at all and only working to sustain myself to work even more. It was truly scary to see myself fall victim to a brutal cycle of unfulfilling work that could have trapped me for years to come if I hadn’t broken free first. That’s when I realized that my lifestyle was personally unsustainable, and that something had to change. 

Henceforth, I’ve made the difficult decisions to both transition out of film freelancing and to soon return home to live with my father. At the end of April, the homeowner of the townhouse my roommate and I had been living in for close to three years gave us our 30-days-notice to vacate, as they no longer wished to rent but to sell the property. As my roommate had been planning on finding a place of his own with his girlfriend for quite some time, we split amicably at the end of last month in May and I’ve since moved into a temporary apartment with a friend who has traveled back to Maryland for seasonal work. 

Regarding the change in my career, I’ve been looking into applying for writing positions for something that I’ve grown to enjoy over the past few years, which is to write reviews for media such as film, anime, and videogames. This of course is not what I truly want to do in life, but I think that because it actually involves writing, it would be both good practice in terms of practicing my writing and experience in terms of resume-building. Furthermore, a stable “9-5″ job as such would be good for me, I think, as it would introduce some desperately needed structure back into my life. Being a freelancer was definitely fun as I had the power to choose my own schedule, but it unfortunately fostered a lot of laziness and procrastination when I wasn’t completely burnt out. 

I’ve shared with you all this information, a great deal of it being very personal, in the hopes that it helps you better understand who I am as a person and what I’ve been going through these past four years. 

I understand that my word may be difficult to trust due to my history, but I sincerely wish to let you all know from the bottom of my heart that I do plan on continuing writing The White Rose of Vermilion until it’s completed. My fears and insecurities may have alienated me from that promise, but not once did I ever entertain the idea of fully dropping the story. And I promise you, I never will. It most likely will not further my career in any way, bring any revenue in, and will continue to consume a great deal of my precious free time—yet I still choose to pursue continuing it because I can’t see a future where I don’t finish it.

It is after all my most cherished project; the reason that I was able to truly find my calling as an aspiring writer, its success also ultimately being the proof to my mother that I had some skill as a budding writer, who then gave me her full blessings to pursue it as a career. But most important of all is that it’s the reason why I was able to experience first-hand one of the most important and beautiful discoveries in my entire life. That being the incredible phenomenon of how art is like a beacon—its bright light is powerful enough to reach out and inspire others to create art of their own. From Monty Oum to Nancy Phetchareune to myself, I was blessed enough to see readers create wonderful fanart to show me or tell me in a review that reading my story had inspired them to create something of their own.

I am officially leaving behind my prolonged hiatus and returning to working on The White Rose of Vermilion. While I am extremely hesitant to even estimate when the next chapter will be published, please know that I am genuinely trying to leave behind my habits of old and returning to a more consistent schedule. 

The White Rose of Vermilion will return in:

Arc II, Chapter Twenty-Seven: Stranger in the Night

#TWRoV #The White Rose of Vermilion

[pterodactylterrace]

Guys Like You Chapter 12

Title: Guys Like You

Chapter: 12

Chapter Summary:  When two hearts are meant for each other, distance isn’t an issue... right?

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol consumption. Angsty. 

Chapters:  {Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5} {Chapter 6} {Chapter 7} {Chapter 8} {Chapter 9} {Chapter 10} {Chapter 11}

Wrapping up filming was a bittersweet event. Mostly bitter to be perfectly honest. While Faye was happy that she had completed her first big contract, she was going to miss the people she had grown close to while working there. She was casual acquaintances with a few people, but the biggest loss was going to be Henry.

You see, now that filming was over and his lease was up at his current rental property, he was moving back to his house in South Kensington. Briar was near hysterical when she found 'her room' at his house packed up. Henry spent most of that day with the little girl either in his arms, or dragging her as she clung to his leg. Not much packing was accomplished on that day.

When it was time for Henry to actually leave for his home, was the worst part of the entire ordeal. Briar had planted herself in the passenger seat and screamed every time someone tried to move her. Faye could almost swear she saw Henry tearing up when he drove away, Briar still screaming in her mother's arms.

He was loyal with his FaceTiming and phone calls, texting her as much as he could throughout the day. Not long after he had gotten home, he had to leave again for another project. This one was only supposed to take four months, but it didn't make it suck any less for Faye. Whenever Henry would FaceTime, she would slap on a happy face, delighted to see his goofy grin as he tried to show her some 'secrets' behind the scenes. Mostly the snack table, and occasionally Kal sleeping at his feet. He was so happy with what he did. Truly, genuinely happy.

While he was away, Faye had taken up a contract with some fashion designer, doing makeup for models before photoshoots and for the runway. She loved what she did, but she found doing beauty makeup was becoming boring and repetitive very quickly. She could barely remember the last time she had applied a prosthetic.

That was the biggest strain on their relationship so far. Yes, the distance was awful, but that was nothing compared to the arguments they had over Faye's job. Henry kept insisting she not renew her contract when it came back around. Faye continuously told him that she didn't have much of an option, she was in England on a work visa. If she didn't work, she couldn't stay in the country. Then Henry would suggest she take another job, and she would tell him that every offer he had was just for beauty makeup. She had had absolutely no offers for special effect makeup, like she wanted, so right back to square one.

After their latest 'disagreement' Henry had told her he was coming to visit. He cited the distance as the reason behind their animosity towards each other. Faye had a feeling it was because they were past the honeymoon phase and starting to notice all the flaws in each other. Like how he lacked detailed planning for anything, and just made general ideas like that would solve everything. Or how she would always get irritated every time he would try to help, insisting she could do everything on her own. He was stubborn and she was obstinate, neither one willing to bend when they thought they knew best.

Faye always made sure to hide her tears until after they had hung up. It wasn't because she didn't want him to see her upset. It was a matter of pride for her. She refused to let him know she shed any tears over him.

Henry would usually round his night out with either a couple shots of whiskey or an intense workout, but he made sure to never raise his voice with her. He wouldn't do that, he wouldn't act aggressively towards her, no matter how frustrated he got. She could interrupt him when he was trying to make a point all she wanted to, he refused to do anything to intimidate her or make her afraid of him.

Briar was blissfully unaware of everything going on. Henry still called her every evening to say goodnight; he had an alarm set on his phone to remind him and everything. She would even sometimes con a bedtime story out of him if he wasn't busy on set. Every time she spoke to him, she asked him when he was coming home, Henry's heart breaking even more each time she asked.

She never asked when he was coming back. She never asked when she would see him again. She always asked the same question, every single day.

"When you come home?"

It was that simple phrasing that tore him apart. She considered him a part of her home. He hadn't known her for a full year yet, but she could still get him to do just about anything she wanted just by poking out her lower lip and batting her eyelashes.

Now, standing at Faye's door for the first time in months, he didn't feel at all like he was coming home. Should he knock? Before he'd left, they had gotten to where they both just walked in to each other's homes. They gave each other spare keys and everything. He still had hers on his keychain, but she had returned hers when his lease expired and he'd just never gotten around to giving her a key to his Kensington home.

Finally he settled for knocking on the door, counting the seconds until he heard the deadbolt slide free and the door swung open.

Faye wasn't sure exactly what kind of greeting she was in for. She expected a cold one, none the less. Maybe a tight smile and a nod; perhaps avoiding looking at her and coming inside, not the giant bear hug she suddenly found herself trapped in.

"I missed you." Henry mumbled into her neck, holding her as tight as he dared, afraid she might vanish if he released her.

"I missed you too." Faye finally whispered, taking a step back to let him in when she was released from his embrace. Henry didn't make it two steps in the house before a tiny human firecracker was launched at him, barreling into him at full speed while screaming excitedly.

"And I missed you too!" Henry told the little girl, snatching her up for a hug.

"I made for you! I go get it!" Briar excitedly announced, squirming down to sprint back to her room.

"She filled out an entire coloring book for you." Faye explained, nodding him to the living room. Nothing had changed, and yet it all felt so different to him. Sitting down on the same couch he'd first kissed Faye on was now so foreign to him. He didn't even have time to speak before Briar was back, leaping into his lap and showing him her well loved coloring book. Looked like adult conversation was going to have to wait until after bedtime, which ended up taking much longer than it should have.

Faye had thankfully managed to get Briar dressed after her bath before she went running at top speed to her room, grabbing the biggest storybook she could find and dragging it out to Henry.

"This one!"

"That one?" Henry gasped, pretending to have trouble lifting the book. "Ugh, but it's so big!"

"That one, that one!" Briar insisted, grabbing his little finger and dragging him back to her room where she demanded he read no less than four of them before she ended up falling asleep in the middle of Rapunzel, giving Henry the chance to slip out unnoticed to go in search of the little girl's mother.

He found Faye sitting cross legged on her bed, working on something in her sketchbook. He cleared his throat to not startle her too much with his presence, the woman giving a small sigh before closing her book and setting it down. Now, one problem remained. How to start this conversation. Ultimately Henry just blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

"So, what are you going to wear to the season two premiere?" As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. There he went being a dork again.

"Uhh... probably my black cocktail dress. Hopefully I still fit in it. It was from before I had Briar." Faye responded after a pregnant pause.

"Seems a little simple, doesn't it?" Henry asked with a cock of his head.

"Well, I'm not part of the main cast. I get to go to the premiere because I was a member of the crew, but no one gives a shit about the crew. As long as I don't show up in a pair of sweats, no one is really going to care. We're not the ones getting our pictures taken, after all."

"You're not... going with me?" Henry asked, his brow furrowing as the corner of his lips tugged down.

"Henry I... no." Faye sighed, running her hands through her hair in frustration. Best to just get it out of the way and see where they stood once the dust settled. "You really don't understand, do you? I'm not the kind of girl you take out on dates where you might get photographed. I'm not the girl you introduce to your friends. I'm not the girl you want on your arm at some big event. I'm not the girl you take home to meet your family. I'm a fuck up and a loser. I'm a nobody." Faye paused, taking a slow breath, forcing herself to keep the tears at bay for just a little longer.

"Henry, guys like you just don't fall for girls like me."

Taglist: @Xxxkatxo @Weallhaveadestiny @lunedelorient

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill rpf #guys like you #guys like you fic

[sorcerersofnyc]

The Last Thing Left (Zemo x F!Reader) 6/9

If it wasn’t so painfully ironic (and hilarious to watch,) Helmut would find the relationship between Sam and James a little sad.

Ghosts weren’t enough to hold two people together.

While they wait for Torres to locate Donya Madani, Zemo brings Sam and Bucky to the home he once shared with you.

You reunite and he reflects upon his relationship with you (his wife’s friend and his friend’s wife) and your journey from being people with mutual friends to partners.

Chapter 6: When he wakes up beside you, Zemo remembers the day everything changed.

Angst, various mentions of death & mourning, Zemo’s wife’s name is Heike because of comics. Implied alcoholism by Zemo as a means to deal with his guilt. I use Serbian Cyrillic as a stand-in for Sokovian. The reader likes waffles (this is a non-negotiable fact).

Note: Main Character is neutral in most regards, but the story was written with my own cultural background in mind. (In other words, I won’t say what she looks like but I envision her as being black.)

First Chapter | Previous

***

Grief softens, but it never truly leaves.

So when Helmut wakes beside you, he isn’t surprised to find grief there as well. Pain has been a constant companion over the years but today’s grief is nothing but a dull throb in his chest.

He had a dream about his wife again. It wasn’t a sad dream, it didn’t hurt to look upon her face, but his heart ached for her regardless.

In his dream, she was happy, happy to sit and chat in a home that wasn’t quite in Sokovia or Spain, but rather a mix of them both. You were there, too, laughing and smiling alongside her.

She was taking the time to explain something to him, something you already seemed to understand. You both laughed when he failed to get the joke.

With a sigh, Helmut sits up in his bed and turns toward the window.

It’s dawn. The rising sun baths the room in an orangy-pink glow and you sleep soundly beside him. He traces little circles unto your shoulder as he thinks about breakfast, what might he make for you. The answer is obvious, really.

He then turns his thoughts toward his mission, whether or not Sam’s associate would locate Madani soon.

He also thinks about what you may do if he kissed you awake.

He thinks about many things as you sleep beside him.

And as he listens to the steady rhythm of your breath, he thinks that he’s truly happy.

***

You never asked what happened to Vasily Zaev and Helmut didn’t offer.

News of his death never reached any headlines in Spain or any other International News Broadcast for that matter.

There were the occasional rumors of a scandal, many of which were exacerbated by social media, but nothing outside the ordinary.

His demise was attributed to liver failure and he’d given his entire inheritance to a young woman about a quarter of his age. Tragic indeed.

In the weeks that followed that night at the Opera, you took an interest in his work. There would be no more missions like the one with Vasily (none would ever be that easy and he didn’t like to see you so scared,) but there were plenty of opportunities to conduct research.

And on some nights, you’d talk about more than just mission, nights when you shared your hopes and dreams for the future, your past sorrows, and secret anxieties.

He’d sit with you while you worked on your art, bought you flowers when you completed a commissioned project, and asked plenty of questions about some of your more unorthodox means.

Sometimes you’d take breaks together and watch television or read.

It was strange, just like the day you first hugged him, Helmut felt as though the two of you had breached something.

He now knew where you were born, how you became involved in the arts, how you felt the night you met Dominik at Heike’s dinner party, (“I always thought she set us up on purpose, but she always denied that she did.”)

It was those stories, those small, stolen moments that made him see you differently.

So by the time autumn settled and painted the leaves orange, red and brown, you were no longer just a friend his wife had—you weren’t even the wife of a friend that he had.

You were a friend to him as well.

*

“Have you seen this?” You asked one day, sitting right beside him on the couch. You were so close, Helmut could feel the heat of your body pressed up against him.

“See what?” He asked, though he knew what you would say.

“This article.” You slid your phone closer to him, leaned forward so close that the curve of your bosom pressed against his arm for just a moment before you leaned away. For the sake of your pride, he pretended not to notice.

The articles mattered more than creating an awkward situation.

He learned that you found articles about the Avengers to be the most interesting. Each headline would often read something like: ‘Accountability: Who Pays for the Avengers’ Mistakes?’ or ‘Sokovia Six Months Later’ and ‘‘Banning Ironman? One Minister Holds Firm.’

They were engrossing.

“They say the U.N. may get involved.” You said one day. “What do you think would happen if they did?”

“Something I’d like to see.” Was his thoughtful reply. And it was true; because even with your help, even as you grew closer together, the weight of his promise still bore down upon him.

The weight of his failure still haunted his sleep.

So for every moment he spent with you, he worked ten times harder. He worked late into the night to complete his research, learned everything he could about the Avengers and the Winter Soldier to complete his plans.

He had to work; he had no choice. Because every laugh, every smile, every lingering glance, every reprieve from his grief was a betrayal to that promise he made to his family—because happiness, even for a moment, meant that he had forgotten them.

There was no other way to justify his actions. In what other way could he be happy in a world where his family was dead?

He hoped to find the answers at the bottom of a bottle, but scotch, whiskey, brandy, and vodka, couldn’t provide a balm for his soul. Not the way your smile did.

So clearly drinking was his only option, the safest option, because he couldn’t let his thoughts linger on you.

He couldn’t compromise his mission.

But then one day, in mid-November, something changed.

Helmut read the headline for an article he knew would suit your fancy, but you didn’t come down for breakfast to discuss it with him, nor did you open when he knocked on your door.

“I’ll be down in a minute,” you told him—but you never came.

*

You left your room around noon but you barely spoke a word.

Helmut should have been happy for the opportunity to work, the chance to focus without you stealing his gaze, but he couldn’t ignore the lump that formed in the back of his throat when his thoughts drifted to you.

Over the past 7 months, you encouraged him to talk about his feeling, to open up more—but it seemed you weren’t interested in doing the same.

You left the house a word to him.

So Helmut waited for you to return:

He conducted his research and decrypted more files.

He brewed a pot of coffee.

He prepared lunch.

Had a glass of whiskey.

He checked his phone for messages but found nothing from you.

He reorganized your spice cabinets, bringing the most used containers to the front.

He checked his phone again.

Had a glass of whiskey.

And finally, when evening arrived and you still hadn’t come home to him, Helmut went into your room without permission.

He was careful not to disturb your things, (even if he wanted nothing more than to pick your stray socks off the floor,) and looked around the space.

There were books and magazines neatly stacked across every surface, their genres ranged from art and fashion to relationships and grief.

He lingered on that last title before turning his attention to a paper on your nightstand. The page was wrinkled, spotted, and ripped in many places, but he knew what it was before he even held it in his hands.

It was the letter Dominik kept in his pocket, the one he held on to so tightly, the one he had with him when he died.

He frowned, and his eyebrows knit together in concern for you.

You were grieving, and your grief had taken you backward, back to the promise of a simpler time. The letter was filled with the musings of budding love, a love that had grown and flourished before the cruelties of life intervened.

Helmut understood the unpredictable nature of grief, how it came and went without reason or regard, how days or even months could go by before it returned in full force.

So he set the letter down with a sigh and left your room as quickly as he came. You arrived home 20 minutes later.

“Hello,” He greeted you by the door.

“Oh—hi.” You paused by the door, a bag of groceries in hand. He followed you into the kitchen.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” He asked.

“No, I’m… I got it.” You placed the bag on the counter, unloading a bag of flour, eggs, and a box of powdered cocoa.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” You said, but then pause when you opened the spice cabinet. Your movements slowed before you stilled completely.

“Helmut? Did you…”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, it’s just… I…”

Helmut didn’t know it at the time, but Dominik would organize your cabinets when he returned from duty. It was his way of telling you he was home if you weren’t there to greet him.

It was that gesture that broke you.

You placed both your hands over your mouth but even that couldn’t force back your cry. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, “I’m sorry—I’m ok,” you lied, but it only seemed to make you cry harder.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Helmut spoke softly. With a hand on your shoulder, he turned you around to face him but you only shook your head. "Let me help you.”

It took a few more moments of coaxing, but once you calmed, you told him everything.

“His… his birthday is next week.” You said, and it didn’t take a genius to know who you were speaking of. “He wanted me to bake a cake.”

You set a yearly reminder to try new recipes a week in advance, a reminder you’d gotten that morning. “Sometimes I look down at my ring and I still can’t believe it. That’s I’m a...that I’m a widow.” Your voice shook around the word and you sniffled again.

Helmut walked you over to the table, helped you sit on a chair, and poured you a glass of Chardonnay.

“… I never wanted to move to Sokovia—did he tell you that?” He did, but Helmut thought it best not to interrupt you. “I wanted to be with him but I never would have considered it before I met Heike… but I loved him, Helmut, I loved him so much and he promised I’d be happy. There are days when I wake up and-” You didn’t finish that sentence, but he thought he knew what you’d say. There were days when you’d wake up and wonder why you were saved, why your loved ones died and you survived. He didn’t know if you remembered, but you told him this before, on the day he first brought you to Spain.

“… He used to wonder if he made a mistake,” Helmut started, “If he’d done you a disservice by asking you to move when his duties kept him away.” He released a bitter laugh at the memory. “He asked me once if he were selfish.”

“What did you say?”

“That he was.” Helmut shrugged, remembering the look of resignation that crossed his friend’s face, a look you then mirrored exactly.

Helmut put his hand on your shoulder.

“He was selfish, but he didn’t make a mistake… your happiness wasn’t wasted and he’d want you to be happy again.” After all, you didn’t fail Dominik. You hadn’t given him a false sense of security, a promise of safety away from the fighting—Not like he had with his own family.

At first, you looked as though he said something outrageous, something you couldn’t quite believe. But then you nodded, releasing your emotions with a shuddering sigh.

“You’re right… he would want me to, want us both to…”

He sat beside you for the rest of the night. He’d listened to you talk and then when there was nothing left to say, he sat with you in peaceful silence, your head against his shoulder.

And on his birthday, Helmut helped you bake a cake.

You stood in the kitchen together, mixing batter and flouring pans. The sweet scent of your creation spread and the home you shared was filled with joy and warm memories.

By the time you finished, you were exhausted, so he offered to take you to the best restaurant in the city.

It was the least he could do for you.

*

When you arrived, Helmut told the hostess of your reservation—Zemo, a party of two—and she checked his name off a long list that he somehow managed to get ahead of. The hostess noticed your wedding bands, and as she stepped away from the podium, she said,

‘De esta manera, el señor y la señora Zemo.’ Right this way, Mister and Misses Zemo.

Your eyes growing to the size of dinner plates as you turned to him, but he kept his gaze settled on the hostess, his jaw set closed.

It was an honest mistake, one he’s sure others made before, but to hear it said aloud was baffling. He intended to correct the young lady, but she gestured for you to follow before he thought of what to say.

If he said you were friends, others would presume you were having an affair. Normally, the opinions of others wouldn’t concern him, but he didn’t want anyone to think badly of you.

“That was weird,” you said. “I forgot people must think we’re…”

“Should I have corrected her?”

“It was an honest mistake, nothing worth embarrassing her over.”

And that was that.

You both agreed to treat it as a joke, to have fun with the idea because the alternative, explaining how you came to be together, was much worse.

And besides, Helmut thought while taking in his second cocktail, it wasn’t exactly hard to feign some level of attraction to you; you looked beautiful that night. He liked the way your formal clothing fit around your curves, and the way your heels gave shape to your legs.

He felt immediately guilty for that, however, and followed that guilt with another sip of his drink.

But that night wasn’t the only time someone mistook the two of you for a couple. Like meeting someone whose face one begins to see everywhere they go, he began to notice it more and more.

When he signed for your packages the delivery person would look at his ring and never bother to ask for familial confirmation. The old woman at the bakery would smile a secret, knowing, smile when he asked for two pastries to take home with him. The list of culprits went on and on. Everywhere he went people saw his ring and they’d assume he had a wife at home—that you were his wife at home.

*

On a gloomy day in January, you convinced him to visit an art gala with you. You made a group of friends around the area but one fell violently ill after a trip to New Jersey. You didn’t want to go alone so he agreed to put his work on hold for the evening.

You lead him to a room of abstract paintings and his attention was torn between the open bar and dizzying array of dark shapes pressed across the underside of a canvas. He couldn’t appreciate the work the same way you did, but he tried.

As he looked for what you described as ‘the emotional turmoil conveyed by the paint strokes,’ you drifted to the next piece and a gentleman approached you.

He was tall, with neatly trimmed hair and a clean-shaven face. The man seemed to recognize you from somewhere and offered his deepest condolences for Sokovia.

“Thank you,” you nodded.

“It was a genuine tragedy, a modern-day Pompeii.” His words gave you a reason to pause, which he seemed to take as permission to wax poetic about Sokovia’s demise in some futile attempt to prove his intellectual prowess.

“Yes, well, thanks for that.” You continued on politely. He didn’t seem to notice the exasperated edge. He opened his mouth to say something else, to perhaps touch you on the shoulder, and Helmut made the immediate decision to ensure that didn’t happen.

“Драга,” Dear, he called as he approached you, placing his hand on your lower back. “I’ve brought you a drink.” Helmut offered you the cocktail from the table, one he was about to drink himself before the man made you uncomfortable. You smiled, a look of relief on your face.

The man was no genuine threat, probably just a lover of art, but something in the way he looked at you, the way his gaze drifted from your face to your wedding band and the instant look of shame that overtook his (admittedly handsome) features, gave his intentions away—and Helmut didn’t like his intentions at all.

“Хвала ти љубави,” Thank you, my love, you replied with the mischievous smile you adopted whenever someone mistook you for being his wife. It was a playful flirtation, one that meant nothing.

Helmut greeted the man with a simple nod, pretending to have been oblivious to his blatant flirting, before guiding you away.

“I never would have thought to compare the destruction of Sokovia at the hands of an Artificial Intelligence to the eruption of Mount Vesuvius near Pompeii. How truly genius.” He said in a mocking tone.

“Stop that,” you nudged him, hushed laughter in your voice.

“I hope that isn’t what passes as flirting these days.”

“Flirting? He wasn’t flirting.”

Helmut struck you with a judgemental look. You tilted your head in contemplation.

“He wasn’t flirting,” you repeat. “It was just weird, that’s not really a topic most people bring up at parties.” You finally slowed your steps and you looked at a statue in the center of the room. It was clearly meant to represent a couple, but their abstract forms created a tangle of limbs that hurt his eyes to look at.

It was then he decided he hated contemporary art.

You took a sip of your drink—his drink—and turned to him. Your eyes met briefly, and you smiled, your eyes sparkling with mischievous glee.

“Let’s see what’s in the next room, душо,” Honey. You exaggerate.

“Of course, драга, lead the way.” You hooked your arm around his and you explored the rest of the gallery.

Eventually, you reached the main lobby where you set your empty glass on a table with dozens of others. An orchestra played a mix of soft melodies and something he thought to be tunes from an action movie. The music found it’s underscore in the murmurs of the guests who indulged themselves in cocktails and hors d'oeuvres.

He watched them for a moment and a dark feeling filled his belly.

This was the life he should have been living—perhaps not at a gaudy contemporary art gallery but something just as fabulous and amazing. This was the life you deserved to live.

Had it not been for Ultron, for the Avengers and others like them, he’d be enjoying this life between missions and military tours.

He might have even retired early, lived his life in bliss.

He felt angry, distraught, and disappointed all at once. So many dangerous thoughts spun around in his head and without even thinking, he looked at you. In his moment of grief and self-pity, he looked toward you to anchor him.

Your eyes landed on the couples swaying back and forth on the polished floor of the gallery. He noticed how close you stood to him, how your arm wrapped around his, the way your hand rested on his forearm.

He took a breath and he made himself smile.

“Would you like to dance, драга?”

“I’ve seen you dance, Helmut. I don’t.”

“You wound me.” He said, pulling you toward the others anyway. “You’ve yet to see me waltz.” (Or perhaps you did, at his wedding or your own, but it wasn’t the time to bring that up.)

He unraveled his arm from your and slid into position, pulling you close.

“You remember the steps, don’t you?” He asked because you had far less practice waltzing than he did. You nodded, but your eyes proved less certain than the gesture implied. “Don’t worry, I’ll lead.”

And he did.

Helmut led you through the steps of the dance, a simple box step he mastered many years ago.

“I think people are looking at us,” you whispered.

“They can take notes,” he replied. You were the only person in his gaze.

You anchored him; your kindness, your friendship, your playful banter, and your outlandish sense of design. With you he felt like less of a failure, his grief softened and he could see a clear path forward in your eyes—an alternate path if he was strong enough to take it.

But the U.N. taking actions against the Avengers seemed all but inevitable then. Helmut knew he could use their plans to his advantage, but it also meant he was running out of time.

Still, part of him wanted to surrender to your gaze, but the other part, the part that won, held firm. He tried to look away but then somehow ended up noticing the soft curve of your mouth and the fullness of your lips.

When the orchestra stopped playing, your dance slowed to a stop. But you couldn’t stop staring at each other, both cursed with the knowledge that something between you had changed.

***

Thanks for reading! Next time we'll get to see what happens when your flirtation with Helmut is no longer a game.

Feedback is very much appreciated. Please tell me what you think! This was a fun chapter to write.

Tag list:

@actuallyanita @fillechatoyante @viviace @buckyandlokicanhaveme @sapphiredreamer26 @robur-bellicum

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#zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo x reader #mcu zemo #this was the longest chapter yet #my goodness

[oftatteredwings]

leighton meester & she/her/ cisfemale ‷ watch out , skye henderson has crash-landed into roswell !! they look 31 years old and celebrate their birthday on december 11th . they are from blackpool, england, reside in aurora apartments and are currently working as an interior designer. one thing you should know about them is she was a junior ballroom dancer and spent every day in a sparkly dress‷

hello hello, Heather here, I’m so happy to be here and here’s my first baby Skye! she’s been through a lot and basically refuses to take any shit from anyone lol. like this if you want to plot and I’ll come find you!

Name: Skye Henderson Nicknames: None Age: Thirty-one Date of birth: 11th December 1990 Birth place: Blackpool, UK Occupation: Interior Designer/Owner of Henderson Homes Romantic/sexual orientation: Heteromantic/heterosexual

tw: miscarriage

She grew up in Blackpool in the UK.

Her mother constantly told her she was the greatest dancer in the world... and she believed it.

It was pretty much all she did for the first 10 years of her life, driving her dancing partners crazy as she was the type of young girl who fell in love with everyone. Her dance partner at the age of 9, Ben, basically ran for the hills.

At 10 the whole family moved to the states to New Mexico for her father’s job and that’s where the Roswell chapter began.

High school was a strange experience for her. She went from nobody to the most popular girl in school. She was head cheerleader, aced all her classes and found a boyfriend for the first time. They were a very unlikely pair, complete opposites and when things fell apart, they became ugly.

Her attitude in high school wasn’t the greatest.

It was in college she discovered interior design and the dancing fell to the wayside.

First she did up her own place upon graduation, and then moved onto other properties in town. It didn’t take long to build up her business. She opened a small office in the backroom of her home and things went from strength to strength.

At 26, she unexpectedly fell pregnant, the relationship she’d been in still fairly new. But they were happy, started making plans, figuring out the rest of their lives together.

Up until she miscarried anyway. They decided to try again and sadly the same thing happened. Skye was in denial, she threw herself into work, she ignored him, pretended everything was alright.

It wasn’t alright. In fact, within the space of a couple of months, the relationship ended and she found herself alone once more.

A year later she made the decision to do things alone, looking into adoption.

Now, two years later, she’s mother to Amy and she couldn’t be happier.

She’s still working herself to death, drinks too much coffee, sips on too many bottles of wine. She’s very headstrong, but a lot of fun, she prides herself on being everyone’s ‘mom’ and is always there if someone needs a shoulder to cry on.

Owns a Dalmatian called Boris, who’s getting on a little, so she constantly refers to him as her old man.

Still dances and will give the occasional lesson if you ask her nicely.

Wanted connections:

- siblings. (spencer henderson, open) - high school ex-boyfriend. (elijah parker) - the big ex and would be father of her child. (nao chiba) - other more short lived boyfriends over the years. - fwb.  - friends from high school days. - ex high school bestie. (wyatt moore) - fellow parents. - past/current clients. - coffee buddies. - sister from another mister/brother from another mother. - neighbours from aurora apartments. - students from when she feels like giving a dance lesson. - anything you can think of!

#roswellintro #☆ skye ( about ) #miscarriage tw

[sonic-wildfire]

Emotion Sickness: Diary Entries from Shadow the Hedgehog (Part 1)

Select entries from Shadow’s diary were found and compiled by Sonic (with Shadow’s permission) as an homage to both Shadow’s development and their relationship together. The entries were made between March 2009 and October 2013. This part of the compilation contains the entries made between March 2009 and December 2010.

10:53 PM - 4 March 2009

Hmph. Another day behind me. I crossed paths with Sonic today and he offered to have lunch with me. The request was somewhat flattering, but I turned it down. I don’t really need to eat.

Why is Sonic always so nice to me? It’s a liability to be within ten feet of him at this point, considering how much trouble he gets into. Whatever. I’m better by myself anyway.

5:02 PM - 19 July 2009

Amy visited me today and said she was here on Sonic’s behalf. Don’t know why, but she wanted me to know Sonic was offering to have me over at his place.

Sonic has a permanent home? Who knew?

I thought about it for a bit, but I declined. Again, I don’t understand why Sonic continues to do nice things for me even though I’m the most miserable being on the planet. It’s not that I hate them or anything, but I just can’t get close to anybody else. What if they reject me? What if...

Forget it.

I can’t think about this stuff. I’m going to take a nap. My thoughts are the last thing I need to be with right now.

6:46 PM - 30 November 2009

Wouldn’t you know it, that stubborn blue hedgehog turned up at my door today and again asked me to spend time with him. I was about to just tell him to piss off, but something about this interaction was different. I don’t know what, why, or how, but... it actually sounded appealing this time?

Very hesitantly, I said I’d think about it but don’t expect me to take you up on the offer. He just smiled, said okay, and left. 

Maybe I should at least try to be somewhat charitable for once. I called up Rouge and told her about what had happened and she just teased me over it before hanging up. You know, typical Rouge.

But she did tell me that it was ultimately my decision to make.

Hm. I think I might go after all.

12:25 PM - 2 December 2009

Just got back from having breakfast with Sonic. He was actually surprised I showed up. Honestly? I was surprised, too.

I didn’t talk too much, but Sonic... oh boy, Sonic. It’s like he never ran out of things to talk about. He’s smiling the entire time he’s with me, too. It was almost alluring just how much his bright demeanor contrasted with my moody self.

One of the things Sonic talked about was his friends. I was fully ready to just stop him right then and there (it rubs me the wrong way when anybody mentions friendship), but then he told me I was a “good friend” to him.

I asked him if he was serious. Sonic said yes.

In retrospect, it was certainly more eventful than most days. Perhaps little meetups like this would be healthier for me if I did them every once in a while.

3:59 AM - 28 May 2010

I can’t rest. I keep thinking about Sonic.

We’ve been meeting occasionally like I said I should. The longer I’m with Sonic, the more I begin to see in him what I could’ve been.

He’s a caring, generous man with everything going for him. People like him. He has a purpose in life. He’s coolheaded, rational, and valuable to society.

So why on Earth would Sonic be spending time with me, a reprehensibly depressed alien who is so completely worthless and undeserving of care? How could he possibly like me when I don’t even like myself?

I’m tired and tears are pricking at the corners of my eyes. I need to talk to someone in the morning.

1:51 AM - 29 May 2010

I called Rouge and told her about last night. She wasn’t very vocal, but she did offer a little encouragement. She said I don’t get enough sleep and that a little bit of rest would put me at ease for a bit. But I’m still on edge. What does Sonic see in me that I don’t? Or am I just overthinking this? My thoughts are erratic right now, so I’m sorry to anyone reading if this doesn’t make sense.

Ugh.

I can feel tears welling up in my eyes already.

I’m so weak. I’m so pathetic.

Who would ever want to spend time with someone like me?

All I do is brood in the corner of the room all day and be an asshole to everybody. I don’t understand how anybody could be tolerant of me, much less a “friend.”

Yet... I’m still drawn to Sonic. For whatever reason, he’s just so inviting. He’s nice. Too nice.

11:32 AM - 8 August 2010

Over the past few months, Sonic and I have been visiting each other more often, and not much has changed.

From me, at least.

Sonic has been growing even kinder towards me than before. Sometimes, he’ll give me small gifts like a scarf. Other times, he’ll ask me about myself. If I were ready, I would’ve just spilled my true feelings about myself right then and there.

But I wasn’t ready. So I just talked about the very few things I did find enjoyment in. Gardening, space, and Chao. I begged him to never tell anybody about what I said to him, and he looked at me like I had three heads but vowed to keep it a secret anyway.

I just don’t know. Sonic’s a good guy, but... I can’t bring myself to be friendly with him. If I start growing close with people, they’ll just die or leave me and I’ll be heartbroken again just like last time. I can’t go through that again. I’m not strong enough.

I appear tough on the outside. But the truth is, I’m always on the verge of breaking down. My mental state is so volatile and virtually uncontrollable.

Chaos damn it, just get out of my head already!

3:40 PM - 23 December 2010

The holiday season. A time for joy, reminiscing on the past, looking forward to the new year, and exchanging gifts.

For everybody else, that is.

Ever since I came here, I’ve spent every Christmas alone.

All the others have a big gathering at Sonic’s house, having a good time (allegedly). I was never interested in these and I always declined every single invitation I got from Sonic. Yet, like clockwork, he still sends me one every year. Maybe hoping that I’ll change my mind one year.

After a lot of self-reflection over the past year, though, I’m not sure how much more invitations I can reject before Sonic gives up trying.

I crumble in social situations. Interacting with anybody other than Rouge, Omega, or Sonic for more than ten seconds takes an insane amount of willpower.

Something has to give. Either I go for once or they stop trying.

12:48 AM - 24 December 2010

I’ve decided I need to go. Maybe bring one of my Chao if things go wrong. I’m not necessarily doing this because I want to go. In fact, I’d be a lot happier if I didn’t go because at least I know things can’t go wrong if I’m by myself.

But I can’t stop thinking about Sonic and his friends. It drives me crazy.

9:21 PM - 24 December 2010

Party’s tomorrow. Note to self: don’t fuck this up.

11:17 PM - 26 December 2010

How quickly things can change has always amazed me. Tonight proved that.

Everybody was really surprised to see me showing up, but they said they were all grateful I showed up. Sonic, of course, was the first to welcome me, giving me a hug that admittedly felt like a breath of fresh air after so much time alone. Then again, I have a reputation so I needed to act like he was crushing me to death.

I didn’t spend much time talking with other people, though I did exchange some small talk with Rouge. The usual.

As the party grew longer, I found myself being... complimented by others?

Knuckles said he hoped I was “doing well.” Cream gave me a single flower while wishing me a merry Christmas. Tails shyly waved at me (I put on a smile and waved back). Omega said I was “one of the only creatures made of flesh” he trusted.

I’m sorry. Did these people forget who they were talking to?

Dinner was fine, though I was particularly eager about the sweets. Oh, right, I forgot to mention I have a knack for candy. The more you know.

Of course, then it was time for gifts. I swear you could fill the Grand Canyon with the sheer amount of presents under the tree. I guessed that roughly three of those were for me, ready to be mailed to me if I didn’t show up.

So you can imagine my surprise when I saw eight presents being dropped into my lap and all of them reading “To: Shadow.”

We all took turns opening our presents. I had two presents from Amy (a coffee mug and a Chao toy), one present from Espio (a kunai), one present from Tails (a bag of coffee beans), one present from Knuckles (a Kill la Kill DVD) and... three presents from Sonic?!

The first one was classic Sonic stuff. A sweater with the word “faker” sewed on the chest. He thought that one was really funny. I didn’t really care.

The second one was more genuine. A pair of rocket boosters for my shoes. My old ones are just about dead, so this was welcome.

The third one... subverted all expectation. It was a small box that contained a piece of paper. It read:

“Dear Shadow, stay after the party and meet me upstairs when the others leave. Signed, Sonic.”

The others were curious about what Sonic meant by this. Silver joked that I was being sent to the principal’s office.

Eventually, the party came to a close and people left. I went upstairs as Sonic had told me, and there he was sitting on the edge of the bed.

He motioned for me to take a seat next to him. I sat down and asked him what he wanted me for, half-expecting something stupid.

“I understand you haven’t had the easiest life...”

I instantly got up to leave. No way I was sticking around to hear this again.

But Sonic grabbed my arm and yanked me back to the bed, his face now spelling genuine concern.

“...I know you mean well. Sometimes, you do things that we think are dumb but actually turn out to be smart. Other times, you just do dumb stuff. But that’s not the point. The point is, I want you to know that I’m still here for you. I can tell you’re bothered by your thoughts. But the bottom line is that I, and we, care about you. We love you, Shadow. I love you. Please don’t think you’re not worthy of being cared about. We have our ups and downs, but we always work it out eventually, right? I know your thought process works differently than mine. That does not make you any less deserving of respect. My greatest wish is that you would love yourself as much as we love you.”

I was stunned. That bastard. Quickly losing my composure, I began blubbering about how I couldn’t stand the thought of getting close to someone just to lose them again. How I’m so terrified that I will just be manipulated and used by people pretending to be my “friend.”

Sonic told me that he would never go away and that he would never “use” me.

Fuck. Fuck.

Sonic embraced me and I’m embarrassed to admit that I began sobbing as I wrapped my arms around him. I swore to myself that I’d never show any kind of weakness around them.

“It’s okay to cry,” he told me. “Don’t be afraid anymore. I’m here now. I’m here.”

“And I always will be. That’s a promise.”

#sth #Sonic the Hedgehog #Shadow the Hedgehog #Sonadow #Shasoni #Sonic Fanfiction #Fanfiction

[conradscrime]

Who was Kaspar Hauser? Mysterious Boy Died in a Mysterious Way

April 1, 2021

On May 26, 1828 a strange teenage boy showed up in the streets of Nuremberg, Germany with a letter addressed to the Captain von Wessenig, captain of the 4th squadron of the 6th cavalry regiment. The writer of this letter was anonymous but they claimed they had been the caretaker of this teenage boy who went by the name of Kaspar Hauser. 

The anonymous letter writing claimed Kaspar had been brought into their custody on October 7, 1812 as an infant and that this caretaker had taught the boy how to read and write. The letter also went on to say that Kaspar was not allowed to step foot outside of the caretaker’s home, and that he had been raised in a darkened cell with no sunlight and only bread and water to eat and drink. 

The letter also said that Kaspar was now here to become a “cavalryman like his father” and the Captain von Wessenig could either take the offer or kill the boy by hanging if he was of no use to him. 

The boy known as Kaspar was also carrying another short letter with him that was supposedly written by his mother. The letter contained personal information about the boy such as his date of birth which was April 30, 1812 and that his father was a cavalryman of the 6th regiment but was now dead. The two letters (the one from this boys supposed caretaker and the one from his mother) were written by the same hand which people later suggested was because Kaspar had written both of these letters himself. 

Kaspar Hauser was taken to the captain but they could not seem to get much information out of him so he was then taken to the police station where he wrote down his name. The strange boy was able to say a few prayers and could read a little bit but his vocabulary seemed limited and he wouldn’t answer very many questions. He was then imprisoned as a vagabond because no one knew what to do with him. 

For the next two months Kaspar stayed in Luginsland Tower in Nuremberg Castle and was taken care of by a jailer named Andreas Hiltel. The boy was apparently in pretty good physical condition and could walk quite well, as well as having a pretty healthy facial complexion. This does not make much sense however if the boy was locked up in a darkened cell his whole life receiving no sunlight and eating very little. 

According to Kaspar himself he had been in solitary confinement his whole life and appeared to be 16 years old. He said he had a straw bed to sleep on and only had a few wooded toys to play with. Kaspar also claimed each morning he awoke to bread and water next to his bed though he said sometimes the water would taste bitter and when he would drink this bitter water he would always have deeper sleeps. Is it possible someone was trying to drug him? 

Kaspar also claimed occasionally he would wake up and his straw would be changed and replaced and his hair and nails would also be cut. Is it possible whoever was taking care of him was giving him drugs while they cut his hair and nails to keep their identity a secret? 

Kaspar said the first time he met another individual was a man who had come to visit him right before he was released. The man apparently hid his face from Kaspar quite well and taught him how to write his own name. After learning how to stand and walk Kaspar was taken to Nuremberg. 

This story became quite the talk of the town and Kaspar Hauser received a lot of attention for being this mysterious boy with a mysterious origin story. Rumours began to spread with some believing he was an imposter who had made the whole story up and others believing he was royalty, perhaps the prince of Baden. 

Here’s where things start to become even stranger. Kaspar was given to a man named Friedrich Daumer who was a schoolmaster and philosopher. He taugh Kaspar various subjects. On October 17, 1829 Kaspar did not show up to lunch and was found in the cellar of Daumer’s house with a wound on his forehead. 

Kaspar claimed he had been attacked by a hooded man who threatened him. Kaspar said he recognized the man’s voice as being the man who had visited him in his cell and brought him to Nuremberg. Some believe that Kaspar had self-inflicted this wound himself to either get pity or to escape Daumer who he had recently gotten in a fight with other Daumer thinking Kaspar had a tendency to lie.

Kaspar was then sent to live with a man named Johann Biberbach. On April 3, 1830 Kaspar was found in his room at Biberbach’s house with a pistol wound to the right side of his head. Kaspar claimed he was standing a chair in order to reach some books and the chair fell, leading him to try to grab something to catch on to. The item he had grabbed onto was the pistol hanging on the wall and this fall caused it to go off. Again, some believe this was Kaspar’s way of getting out of repercussions from Johann Biberbach about lying. 

In May of 1830 Kaspar was transferred to live at the house of Baron von Tucher. Kaspar was also known to lie while living here. Then Lord Stanhope, a British nobleman who took an interest in Kaspar and gained custody of him in late 1831. Lord Stanhope spent quite a lot of money trying to find Kaspar’s origin, he even took him to Hungary twice hoping that the boy would recognize something from his past as Kaspar apparently knew a few Hungarian words and once claimed his mother to be the Hungarian Countess Maytheny. 

Lord Stanhope later said that he started to doubt Kaspar when he couldn’t seem to recognize anything about his past in Hungary. In December 1831 Lord Stanhope transferred Kaspar to live in Ansbach with a schoolmaster named Johann Georg Meyer and in January 1832 Stanhope left Kaspar for good. At one point Lord Stanhope had promised Kaspar he would take him to England, but never did, though he continued to pay for Kaspar’s living expenses. 

Johann Meyer was a strict man and soon became tired of Kaspar’s excuses and supposed lies. Kaspar soon became unhappy with his situation while still hoping that Lord Stanhope was going to take him to England. On December 9, 1833 Kaspar had gotten into a pretty serious argument with Meyer. 

On December 14, 1833 Kaspar had returned home with a deep wound in his left breast. He claimed he had been lured into the Ansbach Court Garden where a stranger stabbed him while giving him a bag. The police found a small violet purse at the scene which had a note that said, 

“Hauser will be able to tell you quite precisely how I look and from where I am. To save Hauser the effort, I want to tell you myself from where I come _ _ . I come from from _ _ _ the Bavarian border _ _ On the river _ _ _ _ _ I will even tell you the name: M. L. Ö.”

Kaspar died from the wound three days later on December 17, 1833. A lot of people speculate that Kaspar Hauser had attacked himself and made up the story about a stranger stabbing him. Many believe this because the note contained a lot of spelling mistakes which was typical for Kaspar. He also was very eager for the police to find this bag containing the note at the scene but had never asked what was in the bag. The note was folded in a specific way which Mrs. Meyer said was how Kaspar always folded his notes. Many believe that Kaspar stabbed himself in an attempt to gain more attention from the public and to convince Lord Stanhope to take him to England. It is thought that Kaspar did not mean to injury himself as deeply as he had. 

Kaspar Hauser was buried in the Stadtfriedhof cemetery in Ansbach where his headstone reads in Latin, 

“Here lies Kaspar Hauser, riddle of his time. His birth was unknown, his death mysterious. 1833.” 

A lot of people speculated as mentioned before that Kaspar Hauser could have been the hereditary prince of Baden who had been born on September 29th, 1812, 5 months after Kaspar’s supposed birth date. According to history the prince had died on October 16, 1812, not even being a month old and it was alleged that he had been switched with a dying infant who turned out to be Kaspar Hauser. Some believe Hauser had been murdered to hide his true identity as the prince as he would of been kidnapped by Countess Hochberg whose motive would have been to secure the succession for her sons. 

To this day, no one knows the true origin of Kaspar Hauser or whether he was murdered or stabbed himself. 

#unsolved #unsolved mysteries #unsolved true crime #mystery #Crime

[words-for-holland]

Happier (9) | T.H

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Y/N & Tom seem to be in the process of rebuilding their relationship. Natalie is up to no good. How much more can Y/N & Tom take?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

Masterlist

A/N: Ive been reading all your responses lately and I appreciate them so much! Im so glad you’re all still on this crazy dramatic ride! Thank you so much for reading and supporting!

Spontaneity

There are certain moments in your life where things go according to plan, and others when they dont...but those are the best kinds. The moments that happen because it feels right and everything just falls into place. After all, everything happens for a reason.

It had been three weeks since Tom and Y/N had their heart to heart, promising to find Unknown together along with Harrison and Harry. While there were no threats taking place, one could never be too careful. The more they waited, the more vulnerable they became, letting down their guard ever so slightly.

Everyone kept a close eye on Natalie, but she convinced them enough to think she was on their side and the PR had nothing to do with Unknown. Show the boys one made up threat message from Unknown and you gained most of their trust. Tom had asked Natalie to stop the PR for the sake of mending his broken relationship with Y/N. She told him that her and her publicist agreed to put it on hold...but kept no promise of stopping it forever.

Natalie’s mother was getting furious, not happy with how her daughter handled the situation. “I told you to keep Y/N away, you insolent girl. You are ruining everything and your chance with Tom.”, she spat through the phone.

Natalie listened to her mother’s rant, rolling her eyes. “Relax mother.” She says sourily. “This is just the beginning. Y/N wont know what hit her and after this...She’s going to wish she never came back to London.” She hangs up the phone smirking as she goes through fan accounts that continued to spark the PR flame.

Meanwhile as the three weeks passed Tom & Y/N had slowly rebuilt their relationship. Occasional glances and banters left their tongue, subtle compliments were thrown out, and it almost seemed as if things would be back just the way they were. Even more so, one day in the kitchen. Y/N was making dinner the for the group as she took the time to cut the asparagus and broccoli. Tom passed by her, as he saw her lose herself in the soft music playing in the background, singing to herself all while still being focused on the food.

He leaned against the doorway and continued to observe her, admiring how cute she looked with her hair up and how sweet her voice sounded with the music. It almost made him think why she didn’t pursue a career in music instead of business. “Wow.” Tom muttered under his breath.

His voice must have been too loud, since Y/N looked up startled, but all the more happy to see the man she once loved..and still does deep down. “Oh..I didn’t see you there.” She giggles. “Don’t worry I’ll stop singing in the kitchen. I know how you guys are when I get into it.”

Tom quickly shook his head as he came closer to her, smiling back. “No. You don’t have to. I think your voice sounds lovely. I mean the kitchen’s got great acoustics.” He laughs nervously. Tom can’t remember the last time he felt so nervous with her, but in the good type of nervous. The type of feeling, one gets when they’re in front of their crush and all the butterlies in their stomach start fluttering. “You just sound and look so beautiful.” He admits, sheepishly.

“Thomas Stanley Holland are you trying to flirt with me?” She asks amused at his attempt pointing the knife at him from a safe distance.

“Am not.” He dramatically answers. “I can’t compliment a friend, who happens to be really beautiful.” Y/N shies away hiding her face, by looking down at the cutting board. “I mean it. I really do think you’re beautiful, even if you dont think like that.”

“Well..I’m definitely no model or Natalie, since the people say you both are London’s to die for couple.” She says bitterly.

Tom rolls his eyes as he takes her hand. “Hey..I told you we stopped it for now and Natalie agreed. You know, I get that we all have our suspicions of her after everything, but she said and proved she was a victim herself. Plus Unknown’s been quiet for the past three weeks.” Y/N scoffs at his defense for Natalie as she heads to the stove with Tom following right behind her. He taps on her should as she reluctantly turns to look at him. “I am only ever going to have feelings for you.” Tom confesses. In this moment their faces are inches apart, eyes are slowing moving down to their lips and back up to their eyes, breaths slowing, and just when it seemed like everything would fall into place, both quickly turn away clearing their throats

Y/N calms her heartbeat as she stirs the pasta while Tom helps stir the sauce. The room was quiet only the sound of bubbling from the pots filling the room. It only took five seconds before they both turned back to each other quickly connecting their lips. The fever and the passion increasing rapidly with every touch and pull. The warmth coming from their breaths and the tingling feeling everytime their lips touched. It was like coming back from an addicition you had quit for so long but craved every single time. They couldn’t stop no matter how wrong this was right now, but it felt so right so spontaneous, so in the moment.

Tom quickly signaled her to jump and did as she told, wrapping her legs around his toned torso, cupping her hands under his jaw. He pushed her back against the kitchen wall, as he slow let on of his hands linger under her shirt. It may have been months apart, but both knew exactly what the other needed and how to handle it. Almost as if it were instinctive. They were in complete bliss, forgetting the world around them. Until, the pasta water started overflowing on the stove.

Y/N opened her eyes and quickly pushed Tom away. “Shit. The food.” She yells out, jumping from Tom’s embrace. Both of them tried to calm their heart rate and Tom stood their watching Y/N, smiling at what had just happened. For once he had his girl back, and everything felt normal. Y/N looks at him, giggling. “What?” She asks.

“Nothing.” He replies, grinning like a little boy. “I’ve waited to do that for so long.”

Y/N blushes at his statement, as she sets up the table with the food. “Come on. It’s time to eat.”

Life seemed surreal after her encounter with Tom. Y/N told herself that it was a one time thing until they found Unknown. She didnt want to put anyone at risk especially both her’s and Tom’s heart. But everytime she told herself, the more she got lost in Tom. Every stolen moment, stolen kisses, stolen touch...he always had a way of making her forget. So while she vowed to herself that it would stop, her heart simply couldn’t. Tom was right, there was no PR, no text messages, no insane fan account rumor. Natalie hadn’t even bothered either of them, always focused on her own thing, and truthfully seemed a lot nicer when she came forth about being a victim of Unknown. The questions came to Y/N’s mind. Why should she have to live in fear? Why not just live in the moment?

It was a slow night. Harrison had spent the weekend at his mother’s while Harry did the same. Tom and Y/N were the only ones that roamed aroundthe house. While Natalie spent her time contemplating everything. Her initial plan to crush Y/N when she least expected was approaching ever so quickly after all the time it took to set up. Within that time, she had gotten to know Y/N and Tom even more so a part from the hatred and the jealousy. For a second...just a second, she considered not to follow through. But her mother’s words and the thought of losing her chances with Tom overtook her the moment she saw the two fall in love all over again. Her suspicions only became worse when she recirved a text from her mother.

Unknown

Just remember, your acting career and your dreams depend on Tom. If you want Tom to choose you, you better get rid of the girl stealing your chances.

Filled with worry, Natalie quickly grabbed her things and made her way out the door.

Meanwhile, Tom and Y/N continued to spend time in each others arms everywhere they went in the house. They settled on the couch, Tom’s stong hands wrapping around her torso as Y/N curled herself into Tom. “I wish we could stay like this forever.” She whispers to him.

Tom hums at the idea, smiling wide. “Me too.” He brings her soft lips to his, letting them linger for a couple seconds more. “Do you really enjoy staying in the guest room?” Tom asks.

Y/N looks up at him, with curious eyes. “I mean yeah it’s okay. Why?”

Tom takes a deep breath before asking, “Well...I was uh wondering, if you didn’t like it as much there, you could..maybe stay with me...again.” He suggested muttering the last word. Tom smiled nervously, as he observes Y/N’s emotions. She was calm like the sea before a storm.

Y/N smiles at his offer, but shakes her head. “Mmm..it’s okay. Im fine where I am, but thank you for the generous offer.” She responds, placing a small kiss on his cheek.

“Yeah...I guess I should have seen that coming.” Tom admits, his face showing signs of disappointment.

Y/N pouts her lips, and lifts her small hand to move a piece of his hair. “Hey..believe me. I want to but nows the not the time..at least not yet. One day, I promise.” She whispers leaving a chaste kiss on his lips. “C’mon we got another day tomorrow. I’m gonna head into my room for a bit.”

“I’ll come up later just wanna make a call to Harrison.” Tom replies. Y/N looks at him and smiles as she nods and heads back up to her room.

As the night came to an end, Y/N took the time to unwind with a book in hand when her phone went off. Her face dropped when she saw the messages.

Pictures of Natalie out and about wearing Tom’s clothes and jewlery, smiling into the sun and enjoying her day out with friends. Gossips left and right from fans and media, talking about how adorable it was that Natalie was the type of girlfriend to steal her boyfriends clothes because it looks cuter on her. Y/N knew deep down it wasn’t true but the words and pictures taunted her. Slowly and surely, she started to get mad, furious that Natalie would start the flame again out of nowhere when she promised Tom they would stopped. Another message popped up for Y/N, and it was from someone she so willingly prayed it wouldnt be who she thought.

Unknown

Doesn’t she look cute in his clothes. Probably better than you ever could. BTW..where is lover boy? 😉

Y/N throws her phone against the wall, pissed more than ever. She should have known this was going to happen. Y/N contemplated the message, she wondered what the text meant. After all Unknown seeemed to know more about everyone here better than they knew themselves. Y/N slowly went downstairs only to hear whispering coming from the kitchen. She couldn’t make out the exact words but she could identify the voice. It was Tom and Natalie? She took a peak at the kitchen where the two stood facing each other. Y/N couldn’t make out Tom’s face but she could see Natalie’s very clearly. “Kiss me.” Natalie whispers, as she quickly places her lips on Tom’s cradling his neck, but Tom didn’t stop. The moment his eyes opened up to see Y/N’s he pushed Natalie off with all his might.

Y/N standing there in shock and sadness. Her eyes tearing up, her breaths shortening. She shakes her head, as she replays the disturbing image in her mind. “Y/N... it’s not what it looks like.” Tom quickly defends, trying to reach for Y/N as she steps back. Natalie observing the two, a slight smirk forming across her face. “I swear it was for the PR and movie.” He yells out, trying to chase her.

Y/N whips back as she faces Tom, the angriest she has ever been with him. “Who are you putting a show for in this house? Me? Because I sure as hell didn’t fucking like it one bit. I should have known better.” She spits out, heading up the stairs with Tom following.

“Y/N..please. It didn’t mean anything. I swear. I was put in a compromising position. Please listen to me.” Tom pleads. The door to her room is shut locked, but he stays there waiting and knocking at the door. “Y/N. Don’t do this. Dont walk away. Please just let me explain. You know what we have is special and the moment at the kitchen and everything this past month...”

“Was ruined and a complete and utter mistake. Leave me alone and I swear Tom you even try to get near me I will make sure you never see the light of day. I should have fucking stayed back.” Y/N yells out, sobbing against the door. It was a nightmare, and this time she couldn’t get out. She sat there now realizing, her heart had broken completely for the second time.

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#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader