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#doesn't mean it will be her only job ever or the only one that matters
fallingdownhell · 11 months
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Genshin men when you bring them home to meet the parents and they find out that your sister is the favored child of the family and she now has her eyes set on them.
Uhhh, I really like that idea.. It has so much angst potential... but am I gonna do it...?
Characters Included: Heizou; Thoma; Alhaitham
Content: gender neutral reader; reader has a sister; slight cursing; some jealousy themes; nothing else besides that
Word count: 2k words
Have fun reading!<3
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Heizou
He is so fucking nervous!
He is good at hiding it, but you know him by now, you know how he gets and how he acts when he doesn't want others to know his true feelings, so you know and are aware of it
Heizou knows about your strained relationship with your family. Your parents having favoured your sister over you, no matter the circumstances
you did have contact with your family, but it was on a very low, unregular basis. Not that he minded that, though. It was your life, your decision. He's sure you wouldn't do that without having a good reason for it.
You had agreed on a nice, easy dinner at your parents house where they would get the chance to meet your boyfriend for the first time
upon arriving at the house where you spent your childhood, Heizou got more and more nervous. Somewhere along the way, he grabbed one of your hands, holding it tightly in his own.
you tried reassuring him, giving him a small smile as you held his hand, and it did help him a bit
soon, your mother answered the front door, followed by your father and introductions were made
Heizou held your hand throughout the entire thing, not daring to let go of you, but he seemed to relax more and more as the seconds went by
your parents noticed this as well, looking briefly at your joined hands, but chose not to say anything about it
you sat down on the table and a few minutes later, your sister arrived
she was acting entirely over the top with you, throwing herself at you and acting far too friendly. It made you somewhat uncomfortable, but you didn't say anything, not wanting to ruin the good mood that everyone has
for the first few minutes of dinner, everything seemed fine. Conversations were held, your parents asked Heizou some questions, nothing too bad
but then, your mom made some comment about you again, and it all went downhill from there for you
"You know, you're exactly the type of man we always wanted for our daughter. Are you sure you want to settle with (name)?"
then, your mother proceeded on to tell him every little thing about your sister. How she was working a much better job than you with better hours and more pay. How she was more beautiful than you. How she was just in general the better choice between the two of you
Heizou was dumbfounded by this behaviour and he now understood entirely why you had almost no contact with your family. This has been your entire life? Archons, he wanted to rip them a new one, for your own sake..
your mother was still rambling on, your sister just sitting there, smiling at Heizou, thinking that he was considering his options
everyone, including you, was surprised when he suddenly slammed his hands on the table, making all eyes fall on him
"With all due respect, Ma'am. I would rather die than do something so horrible to (Name). They are a wonderful partner, the best I could ever wish for. So, pardon us, but we are going to take our leave now."
with that, he grabbed your hand and you both walked out of the house, ignoring the calls of your family for you to come back and that they didn't mean it like that
secretly though, you were so glad and relieved. When your mother started saying stuff like that again, you just mentally accepted that this was it, yet again.
But Heizou surprised you and stood up for you against your own family. It made you feel so incredibly loved and cared for
that night, he hugged you closer to him than ever before, now reassuring you that you were his number one, that he loved you only and would do everything in this world, just to see you smile again...
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Thoma
He's such a sweet partner, always caring about you and making sure that you're comfortable with him
Thoma likes to be a provider in a relationship. In the sense that he likes to cook for you, help you clean up, doing little things for you around the house. It's his way of saying "I love you"
Thoma will never push you into doing anything you don't want to, or making you open up to him
he's more than happy to take things slowly, earning your trust
and when you finally open up to him about whatever things you want to talk about, he's there for you, listening to everything you have to say without interrupting you
he also knows about the strained relationship with your family. He might not know all the details, but he knows enough to trust you in your decisions regarding the matter
he would never comment on it or make you do anything since it's not his place to judge or intrude on
with that being said, it just so happened that one day, while out shopping for ingredients, he ran into a certain someone
well, more like, a certain someone that ran into him. She profusely apologized for running into him and somehow got him tangled up into conversation
Thoma, being the nice person that he is, tried finding a way out of the conversation without coming across as rude. But, honestly, he just wanted to get home to you as soon as possible
Somehow, the conversation shifted and the topic of partners came up. Thoma said that he was happily taken right now, but she just kept pressing with her questions until your name slipped out his mouth
Thoma could clearly see how her eyes lit up at the mention of your name and he had a feeling that she would just bombard him with thousands more questions
so, he quickly made up an excuse and got out of there, walking home at a fast pace
once he arrived, he told you about the encounter he just had, which made you think. It all sounded strangely familiar to you, even his description of the person rang a bell somewhere in your mind
however, you didn't have much more time to dwell on those thoughts as a knock could be heard from the front door
exchainging glances, you went to answer the door, only to find your sister standing in front of you
eyes wide, you wondered how she found you here, but that question was quickly answered
"Oh, so you ARE his lover! God, now I'm so glad I followed him all the way back here!"
She threw herself in your arms, then quickly abandoned you and went inside your home. You were still so shocked and didn't realize this but when you came back to your senses, you quickly went inside again to the kitchen were you heard her voice from
Thoma was looking at you confused as well, but she just continued talking to him like nothing had happened and they were still out in the city where she ran into him
"...I mean, I'm so glad it was you! You're so handsome, and strong apparently for carrying all those bags back here! Say, why are you with (Name) anyway? Like, they have no redeeming qualities. You should look for more suitable partners, like me! I could give you so much more!"
She smiled at him like her little speech would be all it takes for Thoma to change his mind. The sad part was, you were expecting it to work as well, having dealt with exactly that your entire life, she always got what she wanted
"...Out.", Thoma said. It was the only thing he said, but his tone was so unusal from his normal self. It was cold and demanding, making your sister shiver in her place.
She quickly grabbed her stuff and left your home again, not saying another word
You looked after her for a second, but then in the next you felt two strong arms wrap around you from behind, his face burrying itself in the crock of your neck
for a long time, he remained silent, before he spoke again. "Sorry. I'm so sorry you had to deal with that for so long."
you were perplexed at his words, but quickly hugged him back, silently thanking him for staying by your side
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Alhaitham
To most people, Alhaitham comes off as a cold and calculated person without any emotions
most people will be surprised when they find out that he was indeed in a committed relationship
and they were even more surprised when they find out how sweet, loving and expressive you are
most would think that he would want a partner similar to him, closed off and not all that social. But you are the exact opposite to that
Not that Alhaitham was paying any mind to the opinions of others about him and his love life in the first place
To you, Alhaitham was the most ideal partner you could have hoped for
he was caring, attentive towards you, listened to you even if he didn't give that impression
his attention was always on you, you were in his thoughts when not with him. Just completely head over heels for you
However, he would not know about the strained relationship with your parents. He knew you weren't in much contact with them, and that's all he really needed or wanted to know. He never bothered you about it
But then, one day, you asked him if he wanted to meet your parents. You seemed unsure about the proposal, but in the end, he agreed to it nevertheless
the days before the event, you became a nervous mess. Alhaitham had no idea what was going on, but he tried to be there for you and support you
he did ask if you wanted to talk to him about anything, but you declined and he didn't push you anymore after that
then, the evening finally arrived where you were meeting up with your family at a local restaurant
when you arrived, your partents and sister were already there, waiting on the two of you. your mother spotted you first, waving to grab your attention
you then went over to sit with them
Introductions were a bit awkward at first, but after a few minutes, things seemed to settle down a bit as your parents engaged in conversation with you, trying to catch up on things
However, it quickly became clear to Alhaitham that your sister was always trying to upstage you with absolutely anything. You got a good job? Well, she got an even better one. You got paid so and so much? Well, wouldn't you look at that, her numbers were even higher than yours
at first, you tried to ignore it, but as always, your parents quickly began ignoring you again, instead congratulating your sister on how good she was doing for herself. It dampened your mood quite a bit, but you still wanted to give this a chance
that was, until your sister said something very specific. "Yeah. The only thing missing to top it all of would be an amazing boyfriend now. Say, Alhaitham. Why don't you dump my sibling and get with me instead?" She even winked at him after saying this
Immediately, your parents agreed to her proposal, looking expectantly at Alhaitham
said man only took a quick glance at everyone at the table, before throwing some money on the table, grabbing your hand and standing up, heading for the exit
"I listened to you disrespecting my partner for long enough. And you wonder why they hold no contact with you anymore. Really, I'm glad they got out of your grasp."
With that, you both left the restaurant. None of you spoke a word until you got to Alhaitham's house again, where he immediately pulled you into his arms as soon as you were inside
so for a while, you just stood there in his embrace while he silently reassured you that you had nothing to worry about
you were the only one to him and he would spend his entire life proving this to you if necessary..
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aethelwyneleigh27 · 8 months
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Cod Characters General Dating Headcanons (part one)
+ Random and Some bits of Chubby Fem S/O Headcanons with mentions of different nationality S/O
+ What type of BF/GF they would be
Including John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Fem terms and pronouns like she/her are used for the reader
ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ
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My rules for requests and characters I can write for
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Please comment if you want to be added to the taglist, the next part or cod content alone.
Taglist: @marshmallowinamess
A/n: Hi lovelies! Lia here, I'm back after a nerve-wracking week of school. This is a bit short but I hope you enjoy it otherwise. God I fucking hate school. I wrote all of this in a cold room, a heat pad on me (because period cramps) and at 3am so any mistakes will be edited out as soon as I'm aware of it.
This is divided into a multiple part thing (I think 2-3?) because God knows I can't fit them all in one post because of the limited amount of gifs and photos. I'll add more to these in the future, some are longer than others because I can't think. Also because I can't write them all at once, that's a lot to write okay 😭
Disclaimers/warnings: Typical Cod things, OOC characters???, Unrealistic, Some suggestive themes and language, I'm so sorry but English is not my first language so please don't come after me. Most of the content I've seen are on TikTok and Tumblr I don't actually play the game but I love the characters so much, same with any other content I have for other video games.
Tiny sidenote: the reader in this has been describe to be shorter than the characters and has been mentioned to have a soft body rather than the muscular type.
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John Price
ꕥ (OH MY GOD LOOK AT HIS SMILEEE) (He's such a quokka)
ꕥ Price who literally is such a father figure, doesn't matter whether the relationship between you two is romantic or platonic. He often takes the dominant caring role.
ꕥ Doesn't smoke around you, doesn't matter if you insist he doesn't. He still won't and definitely will criticize you if you try or do smoke because he doesn't want you do end up like him.
ꕥ If there's a bit of an age gap between you, I'd say he's hesitant. Definitely afraid of what the rest of the task force thinks (He can't help it, they're basically his boys)
ꕥ John Price who wants to settle down with you, maybe have kids if you want but just a white picket fence life with you without the chaos that is war and his job.
ꕥ He only ever let's you have his hat, only when he gives it to you though. Most of the time it would be while you're out, he'd put it on your head from his. (Cowboy hat rule? I heard that in more respectful terms rather than sexual, it respectfully means that you are theirs)
ꕥ John Price who rests his chin at the top of your head no matter how much he needs to crouch down whenever hugging you from behind. Love doing it whenever you're busy doing something too. (Props for the effort because you cannot tell me he doesn't have back, neck and knee pains)
ꕥ Is constantly worried if you share the same line of work, like at first it was nothing but a tiny crush and slowly he finds himself caring about your well-being more and more over time.
ꕥ Can't help but think he's an acts of service type of guy, reaching up for things you need or better yet lifting you up so you can reach them and loves opening things for you like bottles or anything canned. (Girlies who get their nails done or wear press ons know this struggle ( I'm a press on girly)
ꕥ The kind of man who would turn on some oldies music and slow dance with you in the living room, your footsteps and breathing being the only other sounds as you smile at each other, foreheads against the other's.
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Simon "Ghost" Riley
ꕥ Ghost who is such Doberman/Black cat boyfriend. Like have you seen this man? He's so tall and intimidating, one distasteful look from him and if it was physically possible that person would drop dead.
ꕥ Ghost whose a chubby chaser through and through, he just looks for something different from what he's used to.
ꕥ Is definitely a tits kinda guy, doesn't matter how big or how small they are. He'll definitely play with them in some way during doing the you know what.
ꕥ Feels like you can take him and his size better because of your plush body. Has a size kink and likes seeing it bulge a bit when he's inside you.
ꕥ You're just so soft and warm, he wants something away from what he usually feels doing his job. Not really that touchy but he gets quite clingy within closed doors.
ꕥ Likes to squeeze your thighs, his grip on them would not falter. Doesn't matter whether it's in a sexual or domestic way.
ꕥ Thinks you deserve better than what he can offer and needs constant reassurance, never says it out loud but you pick up on what he feels. (please be patient with him)
ꕥ More often than not, he thinks you're quite fragile. Even if you can protect yourself, one of his ways of showing you he loves you is through protecting you. Hence the Doberman boyfriend scenario.
ꕥ Doesn't like PDA but knows when it's necessary, him placing his arm around your shoulder is enough to keep perverts in their places. If that rando is really that bold then they'll most likely end up with a few broken bones depending on how pissed Simon is.
ꕥ If you work alongside him, he'd constantly worry about your well-being but at the same time is conflicted because he's confident that he can protect you.
ꕥ Only you and the TF141 can call him Simon, he still feels uneasy when he gets called that but when it's you saying it, it doesn't sound as daunting to him. Still dislikes in in certain tones of voice because his name reminds him of his past.
ꕥ You've seen his face, it took a long time but after that he trusted you enough to show him. The fact that you didn't find his face revolting and even kissed his scars while cupping his face was enough for him to want to marry you.
ꕥ Isn't fully insecure about his face but has his moments. (You know like the voice line where soap asks him to take off his mask and asked him if he was ugly and Ghost said "Negative")
ꕥ Takes a little while to get him to open up and little things like letting you hold him takes him a bit of time to get used to because it makes him feel vulnerable.
ꕥ God forbid something were to happen to you and he couldn't do anything to stop it, Simon would lose his fucking mind.
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John "Soap" MacTavish
ꕥ Soap is a Golden Retriever boyfriend through and through. He's energetic, loyal and really affectionate.
ꕥ He's a lighthearted flirt at first because he doesn't wanna scare you off but damn does he gradually get bolder over time.
ꕥ Very hands on, touchy, and could be clingy at times unless you don't consent him, secretly always finding new ways to touch you.
ꕥ A sucker for cheek kisses, lips are his favorite but he can't help but break out a wide grin whenever you kiss his cheek. Can't help but feel kinda manly whenever you do.
ꕥ Adores making you laugh, no matter how stupid your sense of humor is he will absolutely say that joke if it gets a laugh out of you. Would be concerned if you had a dark sense of humor but will eventually get used to it. To describe it, hearing you laugh makes his heart feel full like in a content domestic way.
ꕥ Also, see the gif? You cannot tell me that he doesn't look at you that way because he absolutely would.
ꕥ Loves your weight against his body to the pint he's begging you to lay on him. You, him in the bed while he's shirtless with grey sweatpants on and you in your night clothes sharing each other's warmth with your head on his broad chest.
ꕥ Shows you silly and cute pet videos, especially the cat ones:
"[Name], look at this one!"
"Soap, we're not adopting a pet. Not right now at least"
ꕥ He was upset and gave you puppy eyes the whole time because the only time he had pet was when he was child, it was a hamster which was killed because it got sucked into the vacuum by his older sister.
ꕥ You're the only one allowed to tough his hair, he's very proud of his mohawk and will let you style it. Won't wear it out if you did something silly to it though.
ꕥ Soap who loves showing you off to everyone, loves light PDA but doesn't wanna potential put a target on your back.
ꕥ He definitely is the guy you want to take home to your family and friends (or found family <3), he's funny and easy to get along with. Very flirty with you but he'll straighten out because he's terrified on making a bad impression.
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Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
ꕥ (HE'S SO FREAKING UNDERRATED WITHIN THIS FANDOM)
ꕥ He gives Labrador boyfriend vibes, you can't help but want to take care of him.
ꕥ Gaz who literally had to do a double take when he first saw you, he turned to Soap with that "Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" look in a good way.
ꕥ Gaz who literally had to ask you out multiple times before you said yes thinking he's only doing it for a bet or a cruel joke.
ꕥ Constant reassurance from him because he doesn't want you to feel insecure about your looks because to him you are literally an angel.
ꕥ Loves to chill with you, cuddling and just relaxing. Maybe scrolling on TikTok occasionally and show you the funny ones he chuckled at.
ꕥ He has a sixth sense whenever you crave something, say you want chocolate or drink of some sort then he'd definitely being home whatever it is you we're craving without having to ask you.
ꕥ Kyle who has your Starbucks order memorized because he likes being the one to order things for you. Will playfully argue with you on who'll pay this time. (Don't even try anymore, he always wins anyway)
ꕥ Puts his hat on your head mostly when you're out, has done it the first time because it was hot out and the sun was in your eyes. He's picked it up from Price and once you smiled at him through the shade of his cap, he has not stopped doing it.
ꕥ Definitely a words of affirmation and acts of service kind of guy when it comes to love languages. Sometimes whenever he'd give you two thumbs up and a cheeky smile, you can't help but laugh a little.
ꕥ He's very thoughtful, so much so that he prides himself in knowing you better than anyone. Everytime you two go out to eat, when he gets something and know that you'll want to taste it (he knows damn well whether you'll like it or not when he tastes it) he'll bring it upon himself to order you one before you even say you want some.
ꕥ Soft snores when he sleeps, it's cute but you know damn well he's tired. Also I think he's very cuddly, like he just likes reminding himself that he's not alone and that his bed is warm because you're in it. Therefore at minimum always has an arm around you in bed.
ꕥ Dances in the rain with you and loves it when you pull him gently on his arm while your hands are intertwined. Takes note of how the the raindrops sometimes fall on your lashes while you look up at him smiling.
ꕥ Kyle Garrick who wants nothing more in the world to see you happy and smiling. His "this is the woman I'm going to marry" moment was when you baked his favorite cake for his birthday despite it being so hard, you nailed it perfectly. (Whether it's out of luck or skill is up to you)
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Alejandro Vargas
ꕥ (idk how to write for this angry Mexican man but I'll try my best, love him and his megamind hairline though <3)
ꕥ Alejandro is definitely a flirt, a very bold on at that. He's quite forward when it comes to liking someone so yeah.
ꕥ He lives for it when you boss him around. That being said, he isn't picky about body type or any of the sort.
ꕥ Will teach you Spanish if you don't know any, definitely prioritizes the curse words and laughs whenever you jokingly call him pendejo.
ꕥ Wouldn't mind you teaching him your own culture and mother tongue. Bonus points if it's similar to his.
ꕥ Has Spanish nicknames for you because I imagine his own culture is important to him.
ꕥ Would hate it if you had the same line of work but will never take it out on you, it's just that it's so dangerous given the people he's involved with. (It's definitely Valeria)
ꕥ Speaking of El Sinombre, I don't think they had anything romantic going on. It's mainly platonic and the "betrayal" sucked on Alejandro's side. They definitely had some rivalry and the tension was through the roof. (Mainly because I headcanon Valeria as Lesbian)
ꕥ Can be so romantic when he tries, you can't tell me this mf ain't a smooth talker because he definitely is. Can be very blunt like in a forward way with his affection too.
ꕥ Likes kissing your wrist and feeling your pulse against his lips because it reminds him you're alive. (The amount of angst this scenario carries would be something I'm up for to write)
ꕥ Is sent on a fit of rage when something happens to you, say you got kidnapped then this man would tears off the walls of every building if he had to.
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Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra
ꕥ (ANOTHER UNDERATED CHARACTER)
ꕥ Another Golden Retriever boyfriend. This man is just loving and dotting, very husband material.
ꕥ Loves chubby women, has a soft spot for them and just likes holding them.
ꕥ He's definitely used to the insecurity that comes with the body, also doesn't get why such beauty standards are even in place. Has and would fuck the insecure out of you again if he had to. (It's in a very gentle and loving manner)
ꕥ If you hold him in your arms, he'd be absolutely living for it. He already has had a long day and being honest he hasn't had many lovers that went far so having you care in this way about him would have him wrapped around your finger.
ꕥ Worships the ground you walk on. That's it.
ꕥ Would take everything to heart whenever you teach him or mention something within your culture if you aren't of Spanish origins like he is. He just loves you so much that it makes him happy knowing more about you.
ꕥ Would adore slow dancing with you, brings him back to reality where he realizes that he has you and that you're there.
ꕥ Terrified that one day you'll end up leaving him so reassurance would be much appreciated by him.
ꕥ Definitely a sucker for receiving forehead kisses, as for giving he likes to kiss the back of your hand.
ꕥ If ever danger presents itself to you too closely, he would have a heart attack like full on crying but not in public though.
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astrophileblogs07 · 1 month
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Astro Observations pt.21
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Back with some very random Astro observations 😁
⚫ Saturn aspecting the 7th house actually can dislike 9 to 5 jobs or corporate office jobs. They are better with freelancing. Its coz they can't take orders. Sorry not sorry. 💀(Ig that's a Saturn 7H thing 😆)
⚫ An interesting thing I observed: Among two siblings, the elder one has Leo rising which means Scorpio 4H and the younger one has Scorpio moon. And their Mom is a Scorpio moon too. She's a nice lady though but is such a control freak. (I know I am one too, but like when I met her the second time that "controlling" vibe just hit me like a big yellow school bus 🚌😭😭). That was so funny lol😂. -All the more her birthdate is a single digit 1.(these people are the alpha type, always lead and never follow and hence are dominating, one to have the last say) which is cherry on top. -She is fiercely protective of her kids. Can't emphasize enough on "fierce" part. Very strict. Rules are to be followed very religiously. {She can't stand any one of them doing anything without her knowledge. She even monitors whom they interact with what they do on their mobiles etc.(from what I suspect)} (obv Scorpio moon mom traits) (sometimes Leo moon moms too){nothing unhealthy here, just Mom's way of showing they care 😂}
⚫Saturn and Workout: -Workout 🏋️‍♀️requires CONSISTENCY. Saturn LOVES consistency. -In fact the best remedy for Saturn is sweating. JUST SWEAT by hard work. No matter what it maybe: workout, walking, jobs, cardio, sports etc. 🤸‍♀️🚴‍♀️🏋️‍♀️
⚫ Whilst on the topic of Saturn, people who follow a time table for literally everything the planet doesn't harm them much during its Dasha (even if its your worst one). I mean obviously you played by the rules 🤷‍♀️
⚫ Magha is the only nakshatra for which you don't need in depth compatibility match. They get along with everyone.
⚫Scorpio Venuses/8H Venuses are paranoid. They notice and suspect everything (sometimes things which are not there/imaginary). (For eg, me, who thinks that someone is peeping thru my curtains even when nobody is there and all my curtains cover my windows properly. 🤣).
⚫Also as a basic Scorpio Venus behavior: while writing chats/texting, I always think- "what if someone else reads it?"..so I just don't give much details in texts. (Gosh, sometimes I think somethings wrong with me 😭😭)
⚫The proven way to hurt a Leo moon: compare them with any other person and tell them that the person is wayy better in a certain thing esp if it's a triat that the Leo is proud of. 🤣 (P.S don't do that, its mean and the Leo will hunt you, which you don't want 😀.)
⚫Why do Aries moon men have a bunch of good friends for life and Aries moon women struggle with having at least one good genuine female friend for life? (I'm jealous)
⚫ Maybe its becoz they get along more with guys than gals so the girls are jealous of them...so hence no good female friends. 😢🤡 Aries moons are the best-est people for friendships you'll ever get.
⚫ People born on a Saturday look melancholic.
⚫ You can NEVER mislead a Leo rising. They study litreally everything: what you say what you do, and why you do so. Similar to Scorpios
⚫If you see a person having graceful and "royal" way of walking or behaving, they're are sure shot to have a Magha Ascendant.
⚫Connecting the dots here: as I said in one of my previous posts that Maghas get framed even when they have done nothing, what I interpreted is that Maghas are actually the definition of royalty. They literally have that ✨grace✨, that kinda magnanimous personality and similar struggles to a monarch. Totally King/Queen typa energy here. So with that, the usual consequences in a Kingdom is conspiracy against the king, which the Maghas face. (Enough with Maghas ig, started observing them recently so..✌🏻💀)
That's it for today, until next time! (like,comment and reblog loveliesss❤❤😘)
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leahsgf · 4 months
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Looove Lucy taking care of reader.
Could I have more? Maybe Lucy is the worried older sister who makes sure reader doesn't get separated from the group when they go out, or that she ends up spending her money on too many sweets. Thanks <3
reins
lucy bronze x sister!reader
pure fluff about lucy being an overprotective older sister to you
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her role as your big sister was one that lucy arguably took the most pride in out of all of her duties in her life - and that had always been the case, even back in the days when she was a teenager, and would often forgo going out with her friends in order to play and spend time with you.
even when it meant clinging onto the reins that were attached to your backpack to prevent you from running off for dear life in worry as you toddled around giggling - finding it hilarious.
the pair of you had always been inseparable, and all you had ever wanted to be was like her, having decided the instant you were able to grasp the concept of her job - that you were going to be a footballer too.
so that’s exactly what you did, and lucy’s protectiveness over you only increased as you did so, especially when you received your first call up to the lionesses alongside her.
you were more than a decade younger than her, freshly faced and new to every part of what you were experiencing - being the youngest on the squad by a considerable amount, meaning that lucy worried about you constantly, even more than usual, and watched over you like a hawk.
-
a team day out exploring the city in a country you’d never been to before had the older girl as pale as a sheet just thinking about all of the different possibilities.
“stay with me - or one of the girls at all time, okay? please be careful. if anyone, and i mean anyone tries anything or makes you uncomfortable in any way you need to tell me immediately. this is a new place to us all so just be extra war-” you cut off her rambling before she talked herself to death, playfully rolling your eyes, insides secretly warming at how much she cared for you.
“luce, it’s okay. i know. i won’t wander off. i’m a big girl”
“okay.” she breathes, giving up on the remainder of her speech, instead settling for “i just remember you being so tiny you could fit in one of my hands like it was yesterday, and i just want you to be safe.”
“i promise. i’ll be fine.” you linked pinkies with her, knowing you’d be glued to her side regardless.
“don’t make me get the reins back out. i remember how much of a menace you were, running off all over the place!”
she pointed at you warningly, and if it weren’t for the stern expression across her features you would’ve laughed.
“that was when i was three!”
“i’m just saying! the threat remains!”
-
no matter how old you got, or how far you progressed in your career, lucy still would refuse to let you pay for anything, slipping you money with a wink and a finger held to her lips, like you were six again and giggling behind your parents back.
“you’re my baby sister, don’t be silly. absolutely not.” she would insist, playfully slapping your hand away as you reached for your purse, sticking a pile of notes or in its place.
“make sure you don’t spend it all at once, kay? i expect to see some change when you come out!” she called after you as you were pulled into the sweet shop by ella and alessia, who’s playful grins told lucy that she’d be very unlikely to see you return with any money to spare.
not that it mattered in the slightest really, she just loved teasing you and treasured looking after you, not quite ready to give it up, it being one of her favourite parts of her life, even when you were nearing being an adult yourself.
-
tried to fit in everything that you requested! thank you for it i enjoyed writing it - and happy new year!
not proof read so i apologise if there’s any mistakes
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cameronspecial · 8 months
Text
I Don't Share My Candy
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings:  Drug and Alcohol Use, Sexual Content (Not smut but some sexual tension that is let out) and Mention of Sex.
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.1K
Summary: Rafe doesn't want to define their relationship, so Y/N decides to take matters into her own hands.
A/N: This idea came to me thanks to this Instagram post.
Masterlist
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Being in a situationship with Rafe Cameron is just about the most frustrating thing that Y/N Y/L/N has ever done. And that says something because she works part-time at a daycare during the semester. Although, she could equate Rafe to a toddler. He doesn’t understand the meaning of the word no. He doesn’t like to share, but he expects other people to share their things with him. He doesn’t do a great job of hiding his emotions. He is clingy, only in secret when it is just the two of him cuddled under the sheets. He isn’t like most hookups Y/N has had. Once they finish their passionate activities, he wants to stay in bed and cuddle. He wants to make her a bath for aftercare and talk about their day. He wants to act like they are just an ordinary couple who just finished a night of lovemaking. He liked to consider them exclusive. The catch is that he only acted that way in the privacy of one of their bedrooms. It doesn’t even extend to the rest of their houses. Y/N wouldn’t find herself being cuddled on a couch in a living room with Rafe because, according to him, it is a hard no. 
This is why she finds herself watching as Rafe lets a blonde grind her ass into his clothed cock. He didn’t even give a glance in her direction. Seeing him with other girls always makes Y/N wonder if he was the same way with all of his one-night stands. Does he like to cuddle them? Does he run them a bath and ask them what their favourite part of the day is? Y/N couldn’t stand to watch the scene anymore, so she left the party with a shake of her head. She wouldn’t let him keep playing this game of tug of war on what to label themselves. And she has a plan to get him to pull the trigger on admitting who they are to each other. 
——
YN sits at her vanity getting ready with the help of her friends. As she does her makeup, Mable is giving volume to her curtain bangs to emulate the 70s style she is trying to achieve in her outfit. She found a brown patterned silk scarf shirt at the thrift shop, which she pairs with a black jean skirt and brown knee-high heeled boots. Everyone finished getting ready and it was time to add the finishing touches to their outfit that Y/N had bought thanks to TikTok. She hands out a candy necklace to each of her friends, putting on her own after everyone has received theirs. They head out to the nightclub with the goal of having the least amount of candies on their necklace and whoever does will be declared the winner. 
When Y/N had thought up which friends to ask out, she had made sure they were mostly her friends who loved to document every little thing they did on social media and who Rafe was following. With a drink in hand, she laughs as the tattooed brunet leans down towards her neck to eat one of the candies. She watches as Clara documents the whole scene on her phone. Y/N made sure to lean her face towards the camera, so it was clear it was her. The man pulls away and gives her a smirk as he walks away. Out of the corner of her eyes, she catches a glance at Clara’s phone. She is posting the video to her story on Instagram, making sure to tag Y/N. 
——
Rafe sits on the balcony with beer in hand and a joint resting on an ashtray on the coffee. He is skipping through people’s stories on Instagram when one particular one attracts his attention. He leans closer to his phone to make sure it is really her and the tag confirms who it really is. He observes the unknown person bring his lips down to her neck and Rafe feels his blood boil. Instead of placing a kiss in a place only Rafe’s lips should be close to, the boy’s teeth bite into a candy attached to the elastic necklace. Rafe rewatches the video over and over again, examining the look of joy on Y/N’s face. She shouldn’t be enjoying it as much as she is. She should only want him near her neck in that sense. On his fifth time watching it, Rafe notices the caption to the events going on: The girl with the least amount of candy wins and it looks like Y/L/N is playing to win. Without another thought, Rafe puts out his blunt and gets his car keys, glad that he had just started his relaxation so he only had one puff and sip of the possible impairments. 
——
Rafe finds his target dancing on the dance floor with a man behind her. The blue-haired man holds her swaying hips and his lips are near her neck. Rafe can feel the heat reach his neck. He quickly pulls the man away from her, ignoring the yip the man lets out. Y/N turns at the loss of the man’s hands on her hips and glows at the sight of Rafe. The angry look on Rafe’s face doesn’t deter her and she lets him drag her to the back of the club, out of sight of other people. The music dampens in the back of the club. Rafe gently slams her back into the wall and he leans his hand above her head. “Now, what game do you think you are playing at, little fox?” Rafe’s anger converts into a smirk as he lustfully looks down at her.  
“I don’t know what you are talking about?” 
“Ha, don’t play innocent with me. Why are you letting men’s lips near your neck?”
“Just playing a little game, Rafe. I wanna win.”
“Well, if you wanted to win, little fox, then you should’ve called me.” Each word is broken apart with a kiss as he makes his way down her neck towards the necklace. She feels him start to nibble one of the candies like the other men, but unlike the others the sudden feeling of him using his tongue to bring the candy into his mouth causes her to jump. He chuckles at her surprise and makes sure a little more tongue is used to get the next candy. 
“You’re only supposed to eat one. That’s how the game w… wor…works.” 
She is having a hard time thinking with the feeling of his hot breath on her neck. He takes another candy into his mouth, but when one of the pieces falls onto her breast, she feels her breath hitch as she watches Rafe lean his head down to eat the candy. He places a kiss on the place the candy once was, then licks his way back up to her necklace to continue his destruction of it. “I’m changing the rules. I don’t share my candy.”
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sparkle-fiend · 1 year
Text
Eddie is six years old, the first time he hears the voice. 
It wakes him with a jolt – sends him tearing through the house, searching under every bed and behind every door for the boy he hears calling his name.
Mama finally stops him. “Sweetheart, what did you lose this time?” (Eddie is always losing things.) She looks impatient, standing with a laundry basket balanced on one cocked hip, curly hair spilling out of the messy bun on top of her head.
“I heard somebody saying my name! I gotta find him, I think he’s hiding.”
Mama’s whole attitude changes, all at once. She sets the laundry aside and drops to her knees in front of him, squeezing his little hands between her own. “Oh baby. That voice means you’ve got a soulmate!”
She smiles bright as the suncatcher hanging in the window, and presses sloppy kisses all over his face until he screams with laughter, squirming to get away. 
“My lucky, special boy!”
Eddie’s never been lucky before. It’s exciting.
———
In school, they learn all about soulmates. About how rare they are. Uncle Wayne is the only other person Eddie knows that has one. 
When he found out about Uncle Wayne’s soulmate, Eddie was so excited – bubbling full of questions, like a bottle of fizzy pop. But whenever he tried to talk about it, his dad got real mad.
“You keep your mouth shut about soulmates,” he said. “Don’t talk about that shit in front of your uncle.”
It’s hard. Eddie starts staying over at Uncle Wayne’s trailer more and more when Mama gets sick. And Eddie’s never been good at following rules; especially when he’s curious about something.
“Uncle Wayne?” Eddie finally asks one day. “Where’s your soulmate? How come I’ve never seen her?” You have met her right? is what Eddie’s really asking. He can’t imagine waiting until he’s as old as Uncle Wayne to find his soulmate.
His uncle goes sort of brittle, tensing up like every joint is made of glass. His lips press together behind his beard, and his denim blue eyes go shiny and wet – like he’s trying not to cry.
If Eddie could take the question back, he would. Suck it right back into his mouth, like the smoke from his uncle’s cigarettes. This is why you gotta listen better baby – that’s what his Mama would probably say.
“My Lorretta died a few years ago. Before you were born.”
Eddie never considered that. In all the movies, soulmates die together. The thought of it leaves a queasy feeling squirming through his stomach.
“I still hear her though,” Uncle Wayne says, with a terribly soft look in his eyes. “Still hear her singing our song.”
“Like a memory?” Eddie whispers.
His uncle shakes his head. “Time don’t matter for soulmates – no more than distance. I can hear her still, across the years.”
Like a ghost, his uncle doesn’t say. A ghost that will haunt him forever. None of the dry textbooks in school ever mentioned that part.
It starts to worry Eddie. As he gets older, his soulmate’s voice starts to get clearer. He always hears the same thing – a desperate, grown-up voice screaming at him to “Run Eddie! RUN!!!” 
It must be from the future. But his soulmate sounds so scared. What could possibly happen, to make his soulmate sound like that?
Eddie starts to listen to music more. Loud, heavy stuff to drown out the frightened voice. 
Late at night, he curls up under the covers and softly sings his Mama’s favorite song – hoping that somewhere, somewhen, his soulmate will hear him.
That it might help, the way it helps Eddie when Mama sings him to sleep.
———
Eddie is twelve years old, the first time he really listens to the voice.
Mama's been dead two years, and his dad keeps pulling riskier and riskier jobs. Tonight, he's decided to try and break into the pawn shop on Fifth street. 
Eddie is the lookout, stationed on the opposite corner with a pistol weighing heavy in the pocket of his coat (just in case, Ed). 
He doesn't want to be here. He tried to argue with his dad. Said, "I've got a test tomorrow. I've got homework and..." and I hate this life. (He doesn't say that part.) I don't want to steal cars or break into buildings or mug people. I don't want to be like you.
His dad just gripped him by the arm hard enough to bruise, and said, "You like to eat, dont'cha? Well, lookouts get to eat. Lazy little shits don't." 
So Eddie is standing on a street corner in the middle of the night, watching his dad furtively attempt to pick the lock on the front door of the pawn shop, when a cop car slows down at the end of the street.
Fear floods his bloodstream so fast it leaves him dizzy. The cop has clearly noticed something. Eddie can see the shadowed figure inside the car reach for his radio. 
Eddie has two choices.
He could pull the pistol out of his pocket and fire a few shots down the street, forcing the cop to take cover long enough for his dad to get away (which is what his dad would expect him to do). Or he could... 
"Run!"
The sudden loud voice, echoing between his ears and behind his eyes and inside his heart, startles him into flinching. 
"Run Eddie, RUN!!!" His body obeys before his brain has a chance to process the words. He's halfway down the street when the siren shrieks to life. 
Later, as he sits in the backseat of the social worker's car on the way to his Uncle Wayne, he can't quite believe he did it. He bailed on his dad - left him to get arrested and go to prison. This is Frank Munson's third strike; he'll go away for life this time. 
I'm such a coward, Eddie thinks numbly. Such a chicken piece of shit. He digs his ragged nails into the soft flesh of his palms, squeezing hard enough to draw blood. 
As if he'd spoken aloud, a soft voice responds, "You're not a coward. You're one of the bravest people I've ever known. Running isn't always a bad thing, okay? Sometimes it's just the smart thing to do."
His soulmate sounds so fierce, so certain. Eddie blinks hard against the hot burn of tears. The smart thing to do.
———
Eddie holds onto those words, like magic talismans. They provide comfort, not just in the immediate days after his dad's arrest, but other times too. Every time he runs away from a bully or a cop or a deal gone bad, Eddie thinks to himself - I'm not a coward. I'm just smart.
It works... until the night he stumbles out of his uncle's trailer, leaving Chrissy Cunningham's broken body on the living room floor. He's so terrified he doesn't have time to think, not until after he's ditched his van and taken shelter in Rick's boathouse. As he leans against the splintered wall and catches his breath, it hits him.
I left her there. What if she was still alive? (She wasn't. She couldn't have been. Not after... not after that.) He grabs fistfuls of hair and tugs until his scalp aches. Wracks his brain trying to figure out what happened, what he could have done to stop it.
He's never felt so ashamed before, not even when his dad was cursing and screaming and calling him a coward through the thick glass of the visitation window. 
His soulmate's words whisper in his ears, "...sometimes it's just the smart thing to do," and Eddie pounds on his skull with his fists to drown the voice out. "Not this time," he snarls. I should have done something. I should have tried to save her. 
He doesn’t feel smart this time. He feels like a cowardly piece of shit.
His soulmate’s voice falls silent. 
Through all the craziness to follow – finding out that monsters are real, running for his life from an angry mob, fighting alongside Steve Harrington in an evil Upside Down version of Hawkins – Eddie doesn’t hear his soulmate again.
Not until he’s staring up at Dustin Henderson, realizing that he can’t run away again. As he hesitates at the bottom of the rope, Dustin calls out nervously, “Eddie, what are you doing?”  
“I’m buying more time,” he says. He ignores Dustin’s screams as he cuts the rope and slides the mattress out of the way – making sure the kid can’t follow him. 
And then he hears his soulmate say, “Wait, wait a second. Eddie?! Is that you?” 
Eddie is twenty years old, the first time he recognizes his soulmates voice.
He pauses at the door of the trailer and squeezes his eyes shut tight. “Hey Stevie.”
“Holy shit, it’s you,” Steve whispers in awe.
It’s the first time they’ve been able to speak to each other like this, responding in real-time. Eddie wishes it could have happened in different circumstances.
“I’m so sorry Steve.” 
“Eddie? What are you doing?” Steve sounds alarmed.
Eddie doesn’t answer. He slams his way out of the barricaded trailer and grabs one of the discarded bikes, hoping to lead the swarm of bats away as far as possible. 
He makes it halfway across the trailer park before one of the bats knocks him off the bike. He grunts and rolls, gaining his feet quickly. Chest heaving, charged with adrenalin – Eddie hesitates. He could keep running… or he could stand his ground and fight. 
Maybe Steve can hear the hitch in his breath in that moment, because the other boy seems to have worked out what’s going on, even from miles away. Steve screams, “No!!! Run Eddie, RUN!!!!”
It’s like the night his dad got arrested. Eddie doesn’t even have time to think - his body reacts to that voice and he runs, worn Reeboks slapping the pavement.
(In another world, Eddie would have turned to face the swarm. In another world, Eddie would have died.)
He’s fast. He’s always been fast. He buys himself a few precious moments, before the bats drag him to the ground. They start to rip through his clothes, through his flesh, and he tries to hold back his screams – he doesn’t want Steve to hear this…
Those extra seconds save his life. It’s bad - but not as bad as it could have been. The bats start to drop from the sky, writhing and shrieking; they’re dying, although Eddie has no idea why. Hopefully, it means Steve and the girls were successful. 
He struggles to sit up just as Dustin reaches him, crying and frantic. “Eddie!! Oh my god, are you okay? Jesus, there’s so much blood…” the kid moans. 
“Yeah, yep. I’m good,” Eddie pants through gritted teeth. “Help me up okay?”
Dustin insists on binding the worst of his wounds first, using strips of fabric torn from the ghillie suit. The pain makes Eddie want to scream all over again, but he allows it. It is an awful lot of blood.
They lean against each other and limp back to the trailer, where Dustin knots t-shirts and jeans and flannel shirts into the remnants of their rope until it’s long enough to reach the other side again. 
Eddie manages to haul himself up the rope and through the gate – and that’s where his strength runs out. The pain of landing on the thin mattress knocks him right out.
———
When Eddie wakes up, he’s in a hospital bed. 
Holy shit I’m alive, he thinks. He honestly wasn’t sure he would make it.
He moves gingerly, testing each limb, turning his head against the stinging pull of a bandage along the edge of his jaw.
The room isn’t empty; Eddie apparently has a roommate. He clears his throat and the person in the other bed stirs, turning to look at him. 
It’s Steve.
His soulmate.
Eddie feels a funny little swoop of exhilaration in his stomach. “Hey Stevie.”
Steve’s face goes soft at first, like he’s experiencing the same fizzy warmth that Eddie is feeling. Then he blinks, and his brows draw down into a scowl. “What the hell was that, huh? What happened to ‘I’m no hero’?”
Oops. 
Eddie tries to make light of the situation. “Maybe I wanted to try it out,” he says flippantly. “Not too sure it suits me though. Think I might stick to being a coward from now on – it’s a lot less painful.” 
Steve doesn’t smile. He fixes Eddie with a serious look, hazel eyes blazing in the sallow light of the hospital room. “You listen to me Eddie Munson. You're not a coward. You're one of the bravest people I've ever known. Running isn't always a bad thing, okay? Sometimes it's just the smart thing to do."
Eddie’s breath catches in his throat. Those words – once a gift from the future, now an echo of the past. He never should have ignored them. “Maybe you’re right.”
Steve’s mouth is already open to continue the argument. “I…” he stops, clearly caught off-guard, face scrunched in adorable confusion. “Yeah. Yeah, I am right.”
Steve runs a faintly trembling hand through his hair. The angry expression melts into something gentler, almost unbearably soft. “I’m glad you listened to me in the end, at least.”
Eddie shifts his weight, pressing his cheek into the scratchy hospital pillow so he can keep his eyes on Steve. 
He’s so beautiful. Even bloody and bruised, with dirt still smudged along his hairline and dark circles under his eyes – he’s the most beautiful boy Eddie has ever seen. And Eddie almost gave this up – if he’d died in the Upside Down, he would have left Steve alone, with only the echo of Eddie’s voice left to haunt him.
“Yeah,” Eddie says hoarsely, “me too.”
He still feels guilty over Chrissy’s death - he probably always will. But he’s coming to realize that proving himself a hero wouldn’t have been worth the pain his death would have caused.
Eddie’s got a second chance… and he plans to make the most of it.
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luveline · 8 months
Note
Hii
Whenever you have time could you please do more single dad!Spencer. It’s just too cute and it really warms my heart how you write it.
tysm ♡ dad!spencer and his daughter amanda find their reunion unexpectedly interrupted when you need a place to stay the night. fem!reader, 3.4k
Spencer doesn't mind how tactile Amanda is. If anything, he loves it, content to have her sitting in his lap or on his hip, anywhere he goes and anywhere she wants to be. He tries to get in as much affectionate time with her as he can when he's home to make up for his days away. 
He doesn't like missing her, but he loves coming home. Amy sits on his stomach while Spencer lays on the couch, using his thighs as a backboard while they both fail to pay attention to the kids cartoons on their TV. 
"Were you good for Mrs. Gomorrah?" he asks, though he knows she was. He had to live through the agony that was teaching Mrs. Gomorrah how to text on a cell phone he bought for her years ago, but it was worth it to get those incremental updates that he relies on every day to get to the next without catching a flight home.
Amy had pizza 
Amy misses you. She said she is kissing you through my phone
Wants a new dress for school party tonight, emergency money OK to use? said she loves you 
Aaskkk k k o 
Sorry, accidentally texted you, Amanda made dinner tonight [photo]
The text messages help being far away feel less like torture. Spencer loves his job but he wonders if he should love it less, sometimes, when Mrs. Gomorrah remembers how to send photos, or when he can make it back to the hotel before bed time and call Amy.
But here she is in the flesh. Spencer doesn't worry about work when she's holding his hand. 
"I was good," she confirms, wiping hair from her face with a blue sleeve. She's in her pyjamas at three thirty. Spencer's in his matching set, blue long sleeve t-shirts with two dogs —a grown up and a puppy, seemingly a dad dog and his daughter— on the shirt and miniature dogs on the pants. "Promise. We did fruit kebabs last night." 
Spencer saw photos, but he still says, "Yeah? What fruits did you have? You know, strawberries will be extra yummy again soon because they're back in season." 
"We had strawberries, and bananas, and the green one, kiwi." She puts one of her feet up on his chest. He makes wide eyes at it to hear her giggle. "And with chocolate and maple syrup, it was really yummy." 
"We should make Tanghulu." 
This is a new word for Amy. "Tanghulu?" 
"It started with a berry called Chinese hawthorn, but now people use lots of different fruits. You make a fruit kebab, but instead of chocolate, you dip the fruit into hot sugar and it goes hard as it cools like rock candy, and you have good strong teeth, so you could eat it no problem." 
"It turns the fruit into candy?" she asks, wiggling her toes. 
"Kind of." Spencer covers her foot with his hand unthinkingly. She looks tired already though it's only the afternoon. She gets very tired when Spencer comes home, like she'd been waiting. "Do you want to have a nap with me, sweetpea?" 
"No, I don't think so."
Spencer made a mistake when she was younger. He thought leaving while she was sleeping would make it easier to say goodbye. It was for him, but Amy didn't sleep or eat right for days, and Spencer had to come home before the case was over to stop her from making herself sick. They've worked on it, Spencer never ever leaves without saying goodbye, but she still gets scared to sleep when they're together sometimes. 
He ushers her forward. "Come here," he says, "quick, give me a hug." She flops forward and Spencer arranges her into a cuddle, hand against her hair, his nose pressed to her forehead. "I missed you." 
"Missed you more," she says. 
"Not true. I missed you so much." 
"Don't go away again for a day," she says. 
"I'm staying home for a whole week. Maybe longer, okay? But I promise you, seven whole days no matter what." And he means it. The only thing that could change his mind is a mass murder situation, but otherwise, they'll have to make it work without him. He hates to say that kind of thing, but he has to say it, because Amy is his first priority. 
She relaxes into his arms. "Okay." 
His phone rings, because of course it does. Amy frowns her displeasure with tears shining silver in her eyes. Spencer shakes his head at her, "I'm not going, Ames. I promised. I won't answer anybody, this week is just going to be me and you." 
She glares at the phone and rests her chubby cheek on his chest. Spencer wonders if it's uncomfortable considering his lack of padding and sits up with an arm behind her seatbelting her to his front. "Let's go watch TV in bed." 
Her hands grab at the back of his shirt. "Bring your phone, dad," she says. 
Spencer kisses the side of her head. "No, I told you already, I'm not going." 
"What if Mrs. Gomorrah wants to come for dinner?" she asks, her voice smaller, sleepy. She rubs her face into his front. 
It's a good point. Spencer picks up his phone to check if it was her and frowns at the missed call. It's you. You've texted him too. 
"It's Y/N," he says. 
Amy knows you because whenever he's had to bring her with him (not often, but occasionally on regular work days when there's school reset days), you're very, very kind to her. You're not sure of yourself around kids but it doesn't matter, you let Amy sit with you if she wants to and you always talk to her with care, offer her snacks, anything that you can share. 
It's why he calls you back. That, and you're a nice friend. 
— 
You're feeling about as ashamed and sheepish as a girl can be as you take the elevator up to Spencer's floor. You don't want to impose on anybody, but you'd rather have died than ask Hotch, JJ's taking a vacation in Santa Monica, Penelope's on a conference with Kevin, Emily chose to use her week on an undisclosed trip, and Morgan was similarly off the radar. 
And you know Spencer has Amanda, you know they've been apart for longer than they've been together this month, and you hate interrupting their time together, but… you couldn't stay home no matter how badly you wanted to. Stupid landlord. Stupid cockroaches and stupid fumigation tents.
You carry your go bag with nothing but a week's worth of dirty clothes and your wallet. Your phone is about to die and you'd really wanted, more than anything, to crawl into bed and sleep the daytime away. 
You've never been to Spencer's apartment despite knowing him well, and liking him more. You knock on the door, apartment 305B. You're dead on your feet at this point, exhausted by the jet ride home, the commute to your apartment, the subsequent ten minutes spent crying on the sidewalk, and the next half hour debating if you could bother Spencer. Maybe you should've got a hotel, but it was already getting late and you just needed something familiar. Selfishly, you needed someone you knew after such a shitty case. 
"Hello," Spencer says, opening the door with a familiar girl held in his arms, "don't mind my jacket." 
Amy's clearly sleeping, tiny snores echoing from near his neck. It's cute, but it makes you feel much worse. "I'm sorry–" 
He doesn't let you apologise, "Are you kidding? What were you gonna do? We're excited to have you." He's kind of talking to you like Amy's still awake, enthusiastic whisper-shouting as he pulls you inside. 
"It's just for tonight, I promise. They said I'll be able to  back in by evening tomorrow," you say, holding your bag to your chest. You blink at him as you follow him to the kitchen. "Are you wearing matching pyjamas?" 
"You came over last minute!" he defends with a laugh. 
Spencer opens his hand for your bag and puts it behind a steaming bowl of soup. "Oh, were you guys eating dinner?" you ask. 
"No, that's for you. I'm gonna put Amy in bed and then I can do your laundry. Did you need a hug?" 
"What?" 
Spencer smiles at you. "I thought maybe you're having a bad day." He offers his empty arm and you don't know how to say no, don't want to, careful not to bump into Amy as you curl your arm behind his back. "We're happy to have you. You could stay all week and that would be fine. Did they really give you no warning?" 
"I called my landlord and he laughed and then kind of got quiet. I think he forgets that I live there." 
Spencer pulls away and puts a hand on Amy's back. She's very slight like Spencer but if she were any older he'd struggle to carry her for as long as he has. You can see the fatigue trembling in his left arm. "It's not legal for him to leave you with nowhere to stay, and without any notice. You could ask Hotch–" 
"It's okay." You gesture to Amy's face. "She's getting so big." 
"And heavy. Be back in a few. Eat on the couch if you want to." 
You wouldn't. Spencer takes Amy into one room off of the main room, and then comes back to grab your laundry before disappearing into another. His apartment is a fun but odd layout, the door leading into a living room slash kitchen with a dining table, then opening out left and right, bedrooms toward the back of the apartment and a bathroom behind. It reminds you of a flower, that central hub of life and the petals curling outward. 
You pick up your spoon cautiously. He definitely said the food was for you, but it's so strange to be greeted with a meal, you can't remember the last time someone made sure you had something to eat. 
Spencer doesn't attract your attention until he's pulling up a chair next to you with two glasses set on the table. "I put your pyjamas on quick wash. And your, uh, your grey bag." 
Your grey bag is a little net bag full of delicates. You try to be adult about it, but it's so super awkward that you end up laughing aloud, "Oh, shit, I'm sorry." 
"Don't be. It doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you. I just put the entire bag in, like, intact." 
You believe that, but you infer from the tightness of his voice that he's worried you'll think he's weird. Honestly, he's just nice, even if it's awkward. Everybody wears underwear. "That's what it's for," you say. 
"Do you think they make those in a bigger size? Amy's vests get tangled sometimes because the straps are skinny, that would be useful." 
"I'm sure they do," you say, toying with your spoon. "I… really don't know how to say thank you. I know we're friends, but it's different. To let me stay."
"When I was a kid I didn't have many friends. By high school I didn't have one. So I never got to have sleepovers until Amanda. And she's my best friend, but she's six, so…" 
You both laugh suddenly, beaming at one another in your wrinkled, mismatched clothes. 
You finish your meal through lighthearted conversation. Spencer takes your dish for the sink and you both move to the couch to watch TV. 
Clifford the Big Red Dog plays on mute. "I know you're thrilled to watch something this intellectually tantalising, but maybe we should watch a movie. There's a guide under the cushion," Spencer says. 
You dig for the guide but wherever he thinks it is, it isn't. 
"Doesn't matter. Mrs. Gomorrah will have one, I'll take her some dinner at the same time. Would you keep your ear on Amy? She might wake up."
He makes a tray for Mrs. Gomorrah, a neighbour and good friend of his. You've met her once when she brought Amy into the office, an Italian-American woman who's black and silver hair bounced when she talked. Beside his mother living in a sanitarium in Nevada, and his small daughter, Mrs. Gomorrah is Spencer's only family. He treats her accordingly. 
The washing machine starts to beep a few minutes after he's left. You spring from the couch and track down his washer and dryer, transferring your damp wash into the dryer and frowning at the machine's strange settings.
"Daddy?" a small voice calls. Sharper, unhappy, "Daddy?" 
"Amy!" you say, moving from your crouch to stand in the doorway. "Hi, honey! Your dad just went to give Mrs. Gomorrah some dinner." 
Amy squints at you. "Miss Y/N?" 
"Hi," you say tentatively. "My house is kind of broken for a bit and I asked your dad if I can stay the night." You bend to meet her eyes properly. "Would that be okay with you?" 
"Yeah," she says, smiling. "Yeah, please stay. Daddy's friends never come over." 
"Did you need something, honey? I can help." 
"No… You're sure he's at Mrs. Gomorrah's?" 
"Definitely one hundred percent positive. He can't go to work without me, can he?" 
Amy shrugs little shoulders. "I guess not." 
You can't help laughing at her. With the sound of the dryer bumping behind you, you meet Amy near the dining table and touch her shoulder gently to prompt her toward the couch. She jumps up onto the seat with the most cushions and you sit beside her. You and Spencer never managed to pick a movie, so the kids channel still plays on mute. 
"How do you turn it up?" you ask, offering her the remote hopelessly. 
Amy sidles against your side and points. You click the small white speaker button, greeted by the barks of another episode of Clifford. 
"Is this one okay?" you ask. 
"I love Clifford."
It can't be two minutes before she rests her head against your arm, her hand locking over the crook of your elbow. 
You're not sure what to do. She's Spencer's kid, so she probably does. "Do you want a cuddle?" you ask her. You'd be happy to give her one, but you don't know what's okay with her. 
"Please." 
You hang your arm across her shoulders and behind her back, stroking a tentative and short line into her arm, just once. "These are nice pyjamas, Amy. I saw your dad has the same ones." They're soft under your arm. Her hair brushes your wrist as she turns her head to crinkle her nose at you. 
"Thank you. Me and dad have all matching pyjamas," she says proudly. 
"All?" 
"Well, maybe not all. But lots." 
She hums and shuffles closer to your chest. It felt odd at first —although Amy has sat in your lap at your desk at work, and even given you a hug on her birthday to say thank you for the books and candies, you're not used to children or the things that they want. But it feels less foreign the longer she sits there, and you find yourself relaxing for the first time that day. 
Spencer comes back with a shiny TV Guide Magazine and a bundle of Amy's clothes under his arm. His eyes light up as her head peeks over the back of the couch. 
"Sorry, I was just at Mrs. Gomorrah's," he says, quickly putting everything down to take her into his arms. 
"I know," Amy says into his shirt. 
He kisses her head. You almost miss it, the affection quiet and swift. "Was your nap okay? Or do you need another one?" 
"Dad! Y/N's here." 
"Y/N doesn't care that you take naps, she takes naps too." Snoozing up against his shoulder with drool running down your chin. 
"No, I can't sleep because we're having a slumber party!" 
"We are?" he asks. 
"But she needs matching jammies." 
"Well, I don't have anything matching, but it won't be long for all my clothes to dry. I can wear jammies, then, at least," you assure her, sending Spencer a squinting smile that says, She's the cutest thing on planet Earth. 
He smiles back, as if to say, She really is. "Maybe Y/N wants a nap." 
Amy's concern lands on you. She climbs out of Spencer's arms, pressing her hand to your shoulder. "Please don't nap, I want to play games." 
"I'll play games, babe," you say. "Any game you want." 
"Yes! And, and maybe we can make, um–" Puzzled, Amy quirks her mouth into a frown and bounds back to Spencer. He rounds the couch and leans down at her gesturing. "What's it called, the fruit candy?" she whispers.
"From earlier?" he whispers back. "It's tanghulu. Tang-who-loo." 
She whispers a sweet thank you, spinning on the spot with her hands held behind her back. "We can make tanghulu, it's fruit kebabs turned to candy! Do you want to?"
Spencer smooths her hair back from her face. "You don't have to," he mouths, already squeezing her arm like he's prepared to talk her down. 
"Well, if it's okay with your dad I'd love to."
She gasps happily, jumping down off the sofa to race into the bathroom. "I'll wash my hands!" 
Spencer snorts and sits on the couch arm. "Notice how she didn't even ask me?" 
"You know that's a good thing." Spencer's probably read every parenting book there is. "She's so smart, Spencer. So smart, it's incredible. You're amazing." 
He scratches the collar of his sleep shirt, his curls moving as though woken by a gentle breeze as he nods to one side, "She shows some signs of an eidetic memory. Not like mine, but most children who have eidetic memories don't have them like I do. I can't take the credit for that, you know, beyond genetics." 
"Of course you can, someone had to teach her these things for her to remember them. You're never as nice to yourself as you should be, Spence. Everybody knows you're a great dad." You slouch back into the couch. "And I'm not just saying that because you're letting me stay for free." 
"There's no version of this situation where I would ever charge you. Thank you, Y/N. Having her by myself has been hard– it's hard. She's easy and I love her and she's better for me than she probably should be." He winces, his talking rushed, like he's listing statistics. "I haven't really been by myself. Mrs. Gomorrah. The team. We've known each other for a year but you act like Amy's family whenever you see her, and that means a lot to me. That's why I'm glad you called. You can always call me if you need help." 
"You can always call me," you murmur back. 
Spencer bumps your thigh with his knuckles. "I'm glad we're friends. Are you sure you're not too tired? Tanghulu isn't easy if you've never made it." 
"Says who?" 
"East Asian Eating, issue 78. We have to find the sugar, water, glucose syrup sweet spot or the candy doesn't harden."
"We can do it. You're the smartest guy I know, and I've been known to be resourceful. Plus, we have a world class assistant." 
Spencer stands up and offers you his hand to help you come with him, his fingers brushing yours for a moment that seems to stretch for minutes. "Just curious," he says softly, to your heart's clear delight, "when was your last check up at the dentist?" 
Right. He isn't about to tell you something you want to hear. This is Spencer —you should've guessed an odd question was on the horizon. 
"I'll have to think about it," you say.  
Amy bounds out of the bathroom and paints a trail of water droplets from the table to the kitchen. "He thinks you have weak teeth!" she explains. 
"That is not what I think." 
936 notes · View notes
vivwritesfics · 4 months
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Everybody Wants To Rule The World
Chapter One - Criminal
Oscar Piastri worked for a criminal organisation. It wasn't the life he wanted, wasn't the life he had chosen for himself. But, like those before him, he didn't have any other choice.
He was just a rookie in the Verstappen organisation. He got stuck with the shitty jobs, like watching over Verstappens latest intake, a petty criminal who makes stealing cars look hot.
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Warnings: Mentions of drugs
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In the early hours of the morning, when the sun was painting the sky of the city pink, Alex Albon and Esteban Ocon had the biggest bag of cocaine either of them had ever seen. The two rarely delt with narcotics for their boss, but tonight he had a special job for the two of them.
Alex kept watch as Esteban, whose body was longer and thinner, worked his way beneath the car. They used the car jack to raise it slightly as Esteban got beneath and stuck the cocaine to the bottom of the car.
Who did this car belong to? Well that doesn't matter. Not for now, anyway.
Giggling, the two took off, driving back to their bosses head quarters.
In this same part of the city, a girl was running from the blue and red flashing lights. That was the problem when you steal cars, you always have to be on the lookout for the polite.
Y/N L/N happened upon this car with the cocaine stuck to the bottom of it. He had maybe a minute before the police car caught up to her. A minute to get the car open and a minute to drive away.
She got the car open easily. It was old, a classic. The owner would be sad to see it go, but that wasn't something she could afford to think about.
Pulling her hat from her head she worked about hot wiring the car and tuned the radio to her liking. Twenty five seconds until the police caught up with her.
The radio was also old, as old as the car. It was going to take her some time before she found the right station.
At least, the end of Rick Astleys 'Never Gonna Give You Up' played and Tears For Fears 'Everybody Wants to Rule The World' began. Y/N grinned as she put the car into gear and floored it, heading towards the outskirts of the city.
She had to lose the cops before she returned to her boss. If she brought the police to his door, she'd never hear the end of it. Or her blood would be spilt. There was no telling.
Y/N managed to get away from the cops. Usually they'd give up and she could drive away, unscathed. But tonight was different. Tonight they weren't giving up.
"Fucking pigs," she muttered as she turned down an alleyway, trying to conceal herself and the car. She cringed as its sides scraped against the walls of the buildings it was squashed between. At least it would be harder to identify now.
But she had fucked it. She went to turn left down the alleyway, only to find herself blocked by a wall. A fucking wall. She was done for, screwed, and in so much trouble.
The police cars pulled in behind her. They had the sense not to follow her down the alleyway and get themselves stuck. Instead, they pulled out their guns and pointed them at the girl in the car, demanding she exit the vehicle.
Y/N wound down the car window. "I can't get the door open!" She called, hoping the police heard her. "So I'm going to break the back window and climb out that way, okay?"
She hasn't a hardened criminal, not in the way that mattered. She'd never had a run in with the police before and she didn't quite know what to do. So, she did as her father had taught her and remained calm and collected. Show them you mean no harm and they won't harm you.
She waited for confirmation from the police office closest to the car before climbing into the back of the car and kicking at the back window. It was no easy task, getting the back window separated from the car. It was a few good kicked before the sheet of glass fell away, allowing her to climb from the car with her hands up.
She was cuffed, placed in the back of a police car and taken to the station while the owner of the car was contacted. They took the cocaine from the car and drove Y/N to the station.
"There's something wrong with your car," she tried to say to the police officers, able to tell from the sound alone. But they weren't having any of it. They shut her up and continued driving to the station.
At the station they placed her in the holding cell. Prostitutes and other criminals surrounded her as she sat on the bench and closed her eyes. She just stole a car, she'd be out of here in no time.
But suddenly a police officer called her name. She opened her eyes and walked over to the door of the holding cell, walking past the petty thieves and flashers.
An officer grabbed her arm and marched her over to his desk. He pushed her into a chair and cuffed her hand to the arm. "So," he began as he sat on the other side of the desk. "Where did you get the coke?"
"Coke?" Y/N asked as she tried sit forward.
The officer let out a sigh. "You know, blow, bump, nose candy, sniff, snow, white rock."
"Hey now, I don't fuck with drugs," she called, slumping back in the chair. "If there was cocaine on that car, it was there before I got to it," she said.
The officer let out another sigh. He uncuffed her from the chair and marched her back to the holding cell. He threw her in locking the door behind her. If she wasn't going to talk, she could rot in there.
But she wasn't going to rot in there. The arresting officer suddenly got a phone call that he rushed to answer. The number was withheld and he knew exactly who it was.
The voice on the other end of the phone was soft, the accent unrecognisable. The voice maybe have been soft, but the officer still did exactly what he said.
"Yes, sir," he said, listening to the person. "Right away, sir."
The person on the other end of the phone hung up and the officer stretched out his limbs. This was maybe his least favourite part of the job, having to let the criminals go because the most powerful man in the city commanded it.
The officer opened the holding cell and grabbed a hold of the girl he had just arrested. He held her arm, his grip bruising as he dragged her out of the holding cell. "Your charges have been taken care of," he grumbled as he marched her out out the precinct, around to the back.
Still holding her arm, he placed two fingers in his mouth and whistled.
A black van, which had previously been inconspicuously parked in the corner of the parking lot, rumbled to life. The engine was old, clearly, but it sounded amazing. The door slid open and three men, all in pristine suits jumped out. One strode over, a black sack in his hands.
The two others circled around her, taking her from the officer. The officer said nothing and quickly rushed back inside. The two men grabbed her hands and wormed together to tie them behind her back. The bindings were tight, cutting into her skin. But she knew better then to panic.
"Sorry about this," said the third man, standing in front of her. Y/N had just about enough time to study his face, his dark eyes, the moles on his face, his round cheeks ans pillowy lips. His hair, which parted down the middle, soft and fluffy and shiny.
She shrugged her shoulders and he placed the bag over her head.
There was no point fighting them as they walked her to the van, she'd seen their guns the moment they'd jumped out of the van. The two that had tied her hands sat behind her as the pretty one, the one who had placed the bag over her head climbed into the driver's seat.
He always drove, no matter the job. It was what he loved, what he was good at, what kept him calm.
The drive wasn't very long. Or, it hadn't seemed long to the captive, who was trying her best to keep time using the songs playing on the radio. They weren't out of the city, or, they weren't very far outside of it.
"Oh, turn this one up," she said, her words muffled, and the driver did just that, twisting the knob attached to the radio to turn up the volume.
Before too long the driver killed the engine and the sliding door to the van was thrown open. Y/N was dragged to her feet, one man holding each arm, and walked forward. She had no idea where she was or where she was going. The only indicator that she had walked into a building was the stale air, the buzz of the lights overhead and the feeling of the floor beneath her feet. These were the sorts of things you had to learn to survive.
She went into a room, her feet hitting the metal threshold strip that sat between rooms, and was sat in a chair.
The bindings were pulled from her hands and the bag from her head. She blinked quickly, the light flooding into her eyes all too bright.
But then she looked around, looking at the art on the walls surrounding her, at the table in front of her, at the man on the other side of that table.
She knew who she was in an instant, her heart pounding in her chest. His hair was a dirty blonde, combed back out of his face, and the beginnings of a beard surrounded his mouth. His eyes were a little far apart, but it didn't look bad on him. No, he was a very handsome man. Dangerous and terrifying, but handsome.
"You stole from me." That was the first thing his said.
Y/N couldn't stop her eyes from going wide. Him. She wasn't supposed to steal from him. The one rule she had for this job was don't steal from him. If she had known the car belonged to him, she would have run in the other direction. But it was too late now.
"I'm impressed. Nobody has ever had the balls to steal from me before. What makes you different?" He leaned forward, resting his chin on his knuckles. "
Y/N went to push her chair back, but a hand, covered in rings, settled on her shoulder and squeezed. She didn't dare turn to see who was behind her. "I swear, I didn't know it was you're car."
"Don't you know stealing is wrong?" The man in front of her narrowed his eyes. "As soon as the car was on the move, we watched you. That was a pretty good drive, until you fucked up."
Verstappen sat up a little straighter. He sat back and waited, waited for her to say something.
Truth be told, Y/N was a little lost for words. What was he playing at? Did he know who she was?
Suddenly, Verstappen stood up. He signalled for her to stand up and the person behind her pulled her to her feet and pushed her after his boss.
They took her through the halls of a house, with the same amount of pretty art. Verstappen didn't so much as glance at the art as they walked past, and she had a feeling that it wasn't his taste. The man behind her kept his ringed hand on her shoulder as he steered her after Verstappen.
They walked her into a garage and stopped her in the doorway. "Okay," said Verstappen, gesturing to the plethora of cars in front of him. They were all gorgeous cars, better than anything Y/N had ever stolen before. Super cars, classic cars, Verstappen had them all.
"Show me what you got."
TAGLIST (OPEN): @biancathecool @graciewrote
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fastcardotmp3 · 7 months
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future!steddie; long haul trucker Eddie; firefighter Steve ~1k words
It makes sense to Eddie, an obvious out when his world's gone to shit and he has to get away, that his escape route from Indiana is the same job his uncle left to settle down there and raise a kid with nowhere else to go.
Driving long haul means there's no one looking that close at a face that made it to the national news during his week on the run. It means living on the move, never stopping long enough to get stuck anywhere.
It means freedom.
It means loneliness.
He calls Wayne twice a week, coins in pay phones at rest stops while he's waiting for his hair to dry post-public shower, and that's enough for him.
Wayne has always been enough for him, and it would be hurtful to suggest otherwise; it would be disrespectful to the life Wayne helped him build, keeps helping him build with all that faith that had him never doubting an innocence questioned by everyone else in that God-forsaken town.
Twice a week. It's the only phone number he knows by heart.
Twice a week for weeks and then months and then years, driving cross-country and back again, it's freedom. He keeps telling himself it's freedom, that it's good, that he doesn't need anything more than that.
But driving long haul means there's a lot of time for thinking.
It means a lot of time for collecting thoughts up together and creating new meaning entirely.
It means that by the time he's twenty-one and twenty-five and thirty that he has tape after tape after tape where he's collected those thoughts aloud in the rumbling loud silence of an overnight drive.
Thoughts like who would I be if I'd stuck around? and thoughts like will they understand that this time running saved my life? and thoughts like I miss them, am I allowed to miss them, am I allowed to love them without ever really knowing them?
It means that when he stops for all but the first time in ten years, coming home to Wayne to find that Forest Hills is home to a couple more familiar faces than he expected, there's space for his words. His endless, looping thoughts.
Steve's got his own trailer these days, brings in Wayne's mail for him on the mornings he comes home from the night shift at the fire station and stays for coffee.
Steve's there across the way when Eddie drives up in a new-used flatbed truck he'd bought with his final paycheck on the day he hung up his hat and decided he'd been gone long enough.
Steve's there in stories Wayne only begins telling now that Eddie is home, endless retellings of a brand-new man who became a friend during a time when the name Munson was still a dangerous thing to carry.
Steve's there when Eddie starts transcribing all his dictated notes into something resembling narrative and character and prose and Eddie doesn't know the guy who jumped headfirst into another dimension, hasn't spoken to him since that week that forced Eddie to flee in the first place, but maybe he doesn't need to have those years under his belt.
Maybe it doesn't matter if Eddie knows a nineteen-year-old Steve Harrington, because he knows the twenty-nine-year-old one starting a matter of hours after he comes crawling back home, knows this grown and steady one who looked after Wayne when Eddie had to leave.
This Steve isn't stuck despite still living in the town that tried to kill him. He doesn't seem lost or without purpose.
He lives a simple life, working at the Hawkins FD and feeding stray dogs with the bowls he leaves out beside his porch. Robin comes and goes, seemingly dating her way through the Midwest's entire sapphic population and sleeping on Steve's couch in between live-in girlfriends.
There are old friends on the phone at near constant intervals in Steve's home, and there's that phone being pressed to Eddie's ear without giving him the chance to be terrified about what Erica or Dustin or Max might say to the guy who hasn't allowed anyone but Wayne access to him for a decade, what he might say back after so many years without proper human socialization.
Eddie has been moving for so long, stayed moving through the bulk of his acceptance of everything that happened to him, but there's a different sort of quiet here than what he found on the road, stillness, amongst the casual chaos.
There's similarities to life on his rig, sure, a certain routine to the comings and goings, only Eddie isn't hiding anymore and he's not thumbing through the same staticky stations anymore and he's not lonely anymore.
He doesn't know how to sit still yet, not really, but he stays up all night handwriting poetry on paper he once spoke onto tape on the porch of his uncle's trailer and sometimes when Steve gets home after dark, he'll sit with him.
He'll eat his dinner still in uniform and listen to the scratch of Eddie's pen and Eddie doesn't know him, Steve Harrington, but he's getting to know his neighbor Steve.
Ten years down the line and he's becoming solid right there in front of Eddie's eyes, becoming real, becoming something that can't possibly fit onto the tapes filled with nonsense and insights alike.
"You're never what I think you're going to be," Eddie admits to him one morning over coffee before Wayne or Robin have risen, before the phone has begun to ring, before the world wakes up and brings Eddie's life along with it, ready or not.
Steve smiles at him, amused and curious and cocky in the way he responds, "you're exactly who Wayne said you are."
It's an admission all its own, that Steve has thought about Eddie, spoken about him, in the time they've spent apart, even if it was only because he'd dared to keep Wayne Munson's company.
It's still an admission though, that in his absence, in his loneliness out on the road, Eddie wasn't forgotten by the watercolor skies over Hawkins, Indiana.
"Yeah?" Eddie breathes in those very skies, "and what did Wayne say I'd be?"
Ten years down the line and suddenly it makes sense to Eddie.
It makes sense in the morning dew on the lawn; it makes sense in the too-strong Harrington-brewed coffee; it makes sense in the wheels of his truck on a road that does end, eventually, and it makes sense in the collected thoughts and feelings, fears and dreams that he had to go away to decipher.
The freedom was in leaving, sure, but this? The coming home to Wayne and this porch and the man who lives across the way?
"Stick around, Munson," Steve Harrington dares on a morning like any other, "and maybe I'll just tell you."
Well. As it turns out, this might be the thing that saves him.
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fixfoxnox · 9 months
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I Know You Didn't Take Requests But Just Curiosity... What Would Happen If Makarov Was Obsessed With A Nervous Russian Woman?
Kissing you (with your permission) for asking about Makarov I've been wanting to write with him so much since the newest trailer dropped AHHHH also I'm gonna take this as an x reader Makarov headcanon request if thats alright
Makarov Obsessed with Nervous Russian Fem! Reader
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Warnings: Dub-con, loosely implied non-con, kidnapping, stalking, obsession, knife kink and blood kink, jealousy, murder
Makarov and reader meet before his time as an ultranationalist, when he's still at least a little good.
He's Spetsnaz and you're just a secretary trying to stay under the radar and make a living for yourself. Being around hungry men, men constantly away from their respective families or partners, never quite allows you to settle into peace.
You're one of the only women working on the base, and the men laugh when you jump at their sudden arrivals or hands on your shoulder. You don't find it funny, but they assure you that you have no reason to be nervous. You don't believe them, you're nervous all the time in a place like that.
There's one man who doesn't laugh at you. He's a captain and any time he makes you jump, he apologizes. He's kind and charming and, honestly, the only man on base you're able to find any sort of comfort in.
Makarov isn't sure what it is that starts his obsession with you. Perhaps its the amusement he feels when you stutter over yourself as you speak. Maybe its just that he enjoys having someone kind around. Maybe he just latched on to someone and you happened to be the unlucky victim.
Either way, it didn't matter. After a week of knowing you, Makarov is enamored. He's interested.
When Makarov is interested it means research. Research means watching you even when you think you're alone. Sneaking into your home or desk and snooping to understand more about you. He watches and learns all of your little quirks, everything that makes you tick. And Makarov is good at his job, so it's not surprising that you never realize.
Then the papers are sent. Makarov is discharged and the rumor floating around base is that it was an order by the UN after his cruel and inhumane treatment during war.
You don't believe its true, you don't believe Makarov is capable. Still, you're only a woman on a base surrounded by men, you can't voice your thoughts to anyone.
To you, Makarov dissapears. In reality, he's still around.
He joins the ultranationalists and stops trying to hide who he really is. With them, he's appreciated. His bloodlust is praised. He thrives under the guiding hand of Imran Zhakaev.
As he thrives, he doesn't forget you. He watches from the shadows, keeping tabs on your every move as he works himself up the totem pole of Ultranationalists. He keeps you as close as he can without you ever knowing.
And, in the shadows, he pushes and prods reader exactly how he wants her. He keeps men away from you, many of them never showing for plans you made. He encourages activities and learning about certain topics with hidden items for you to find.
And, when Makarov is made Zhakaev's second (only behind his son) and given more control and power, he takes no time in claiming his obsession.
He wouldn't be gentle about it. You'd been out of his grasp for far too long and now he had you here? Well the idea of bruises or bleeding skin only lit him up with excitement.
Now he isn't violent when he kidnaps you. Only disciplinary, as he says. You struggle and he corrects that action. And, as he settles you in to the base he's been staying at, you understand this is your new future.
Makarov is obsessed with you, he wants to own you, he wants every piece of you to be his. And that desire involves you giving yourself to him, giving in to his own wicked desires and playing along.
Maybe you resist at first, but at the end of the day you're a nervous person and you can do nothing but cower behind him. You're in deep, a madman is obsessed with you, and you're trapped behind enemy lines. What choice do you have but to give in and become Makarov's play thing.
Now, once you do give in, Makarov treats you like a queen. You are his after all, and what belongs to him gets taken care of.
I think Makarov is the type to shower his partner in gifts. Jewelry and silk. Anything that he would be able to physically see on his partner like a mark of his ownership over them.
He's an overprotective and jealous man. God help any ultranationalist who tries to flirt with you or insult you. After Makarov is done dealing with them in the only way he knows how, his ire often falls to you.
He takes his anger out in the bedroom in those moments. Making you beg and declare his ownership over you repeatedly.
Now, this doesn't define your more intimate moments with him. As much as Makarov loves having control, he's more than willing to let you take over and do what you will to him until he orders you to stop. He likes to let his inhibitions go under your touch.
Makarov likes to play domesticity. He likes it when you make him breakfast and see him off for the day with a kiss to his lips. He likes to have you waiting in the room for him, ready to cater to his needs. He likes playing house, pretending to be the perfect husband of a normal family.
He doesn't succeed most of the time. Meetings upon meetings often bleed into the sanctuary he wants with you and, more often then not, you find Makarov entering the room speaking in a quiet and clipped voice with other men, future plans for the Ultranationalists being discussed between them.
And finally, I think Makarov enjoys showing you off, to an extent. He's obsessed with you and he has you, of course he wants everyone to know it. Of course he wants to show you off.
But, at the same time, Makarov hates the ideas of others looking at you, of anyone else even possibly thinking that they could hold you and have you like he did
This often results in meetings or casual sit downs where you're pulled onto his lap or tucked against his side. You keep your eyes down and Makarov watches like a shark, ready to attack anyone who would so much as look at you.
Also knives in the bedroom and you should probably get used to blood, because you'll be helping clean it off of him most days, whether that's running him a bath and scrubbing it from his skin, or joining him in a shower for a much more intimate approach to ridding him of the blood.
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hana-no-seiiki · 19 days
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This is generally such a stupid ask but I feel like it would be.. Chaotic? At the very least amusing
Anyways
Batfam x Nicole from Class of 09! Reader
Do what you want (etc make it romantic or platonic, doesn't matter)
Just the batfam (yandere ofc) dealing with a chick who loves to ruin lives for her amusement and sometimes for revenge
Istg she'll just bully them at any chance she gets
~ 🕒
I just binged watched Class of ‘09 and all its endings/choices for you non. I don’t think I can fully depict how brash wittiness of Nicole is but here I go! (I am so traumatized) Didn’t know that’s where “No I’m flirting with you flash me a tiddy bitch” came from no wonder Nicole sounded so familiar.
btw if people are interested in watching class of ‘09 just be warned it’s basically a VN version of Degrees of Lewdity but the mc is actually a minor (without the sex/r*pe mechanic though) and it depicts a lot of just… pedophilia, necrophilia, assault, su*c*de, school shootings, racism??, BE WARNED.
The following content above ^ might be mentioned in this fic but in passing. MASSIVE DDDNE WARNING.
I don’t think I’m comfortable writing stepcest/incest in this blog so despite how perfect it’ll be to make Bruce your step father considering Nicole’s mom has divorced like a hundred times…maybe ask me in @yoru-no-seiiki and I’ll be down for it.
THIS IS ADMITTEDLY TIM + DAMIAN CENTRIC
“Do you even care? Do the results of your actions mean anything to you?”
“Yeah when they affect me, sure.”
You were a bitch. There was no denying that. But you were a pretty one. One many would grovel to be under.
You were used to this, ever since you reached a certain age people just looked at you different, acted in a way that… made you think they were boring, utter losers.
One of those losers was Tim’s friend.
Like all the stupid, horny men in your life, you hung out with him once and he spilled everything there was that you could share.
To the entire campus, the internet, even the news.
And because you were pretty, you got off scot-free. Those morons didn’t even check to see what you’ve been doing the past decade.
Except Tim. Timothy Drake. You only knew that his dad was super rich, and as much as it was tempting to sink your teeth into him and get a load of that daddy’s money, you knew better.
He apparently didn’t.
You see there was one thing every batfam member couldn’t resist. Well, two things. The first was saving people.
The second? Fixing them.
When Tim first approached you he was confused.
You were quite the popular figure in Uni. He heard the rumors. He fully expected to be cussed out to hell and back.
But you were… nice. Agreeable at most really. Brash was an understatement. But you were witty. Your comebacks were swift and deadly.
The more he studied stalked you the more he realized that the two of you were the same.
Two bright people stuck with dull idiots.
And Tim? Tim interested you enough for you to not to completely drop him after the first week. That and most of your bullying probably wouldn’t bode well towards the son of a billionaire.
He was smart, even more so than that nerd friend of his that you destroyed the life of. But more importantly he actually had some tact, and was surprisingly packed underneath all those baggy clothes.
Tim had to admit he was kind of forgetting his entire purpose of ‘fixing’ you.
Until you manipulated yet another guy into jumping off a school building for you. Thankfully he survived because Red Robin happened to be there to apprehend him but still!
And what’s worse, you met up with him afterwards talking about how that Red Robin ruined all your plans of crippling a r*pist.
Wait, a r*pist?
Tim looks through your past victims once more. Admitted he only did a surface level job of studying them in comparison to his PhD level knowledge on everything about you specifically.
And…you were right. Every guy you’ve harassed was being pushy with you in the first place, if not people with authority a decade older.
Fuck.
Well now he had no excuse. He had to make you his.
Meanwhile…
“Ugh, Damian. Can’t you tell your brother to like, fuck off or something? I can feel my social standing totally plummet every second he’s around. How do you handle being related to him?” You groaned. You weren’t fucking stupid. You knew Tim was stalking and drooling all over you lately. You hated it. He was ruining your chances with your new victims.
“Jeez [Y/N]. And here I thought you were like, into him.” Jessica, your actual crush and best friend, commented as she filed her nails.
You being the emotional stunted adult you were only replied with an (admittedly softer) “Eat a sandpaper cock and die bitch.”
Damian stared at you, the words die before they crawl out of his mouth. His hands clenched underneath the lunch tables.
Guess he had another thing to steal from his brother this time.
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yanderehsr · 8 months
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Hi! Are your requests open? If yes, could I request yandere Aether, Kafka and Venti with a reader who is on hunger strike? Like- they refuse to eat untill they get freed?
Sure, Hope you'll enjoy😁
Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapped reader, starving
Aether: He will panic if you skip just one meal, now if you skip multiple meals he becomes determined to cook better and better food, it smells like heaven anytime he gives you food, but you still refuse.
Aether will guilttrip you, he and Paimon will. Paimon just wants to help her dear companion that gives so much but never gets enough in return, and if keeping you with Aether is making him happy then Paimon will do anything to help, with both of them breathing down your neck it is only a matter of time before you eat.
"Please eat something, I spent 5 hours on this dish and Paimon told me she wouldn't eat a single bite before you eat."
Kafka: She sees it like a fun game in the beginning, how long can you go before you beg her for food, until you are hugging her and ask her for anything to eat in that desperate voice she loves so much.
But now the game isn't fun anymore, you have gone a week without food, Kafka actually feels fear right now, you look so bad right now, do you really wanna leave her that badly, well to bad she won't let you. She will chew the food herself and kiss you, forcing the chewed up food down your throat, you aren't leaving her, not now and not ever.
"Well played darling, but just because you won doesn't mean I will let you go."
Venti: What do you mean free, don't you see all the space you can move around, there is so much to explore at stormterror's lair. Venti is confused when you refuse to eat, isn't it delicious, did he do a bad job.
After the 3rd day of you not eating Venti will fall to his knees, begging you to eat, please, you are becomming skinnier, he needs you to eat. He can't let you leave but tell him any other request and he will oblige, and if you still won't eat he will force food down your throat when you are sleeping.
"Good, good. Keep eating and become healthy again, your mortality scares me so much, I wish I could just remove it"
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shadamyheadcanons · 2 months
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For me, Shadow and Amy's dynamic is basically two different types of touch starved in a person
((If any of the gifs on this post aren’t loading for you on mobile--like they aren’t for me--you can download them or check the sources listed. As for desktop, they play just fine, but they won’t line up next to each other like they do on mobile. Tumblr is a comedy of errors.))
Yes! Absolutely. I’ve seen tons of fans say Shadow is prickly and would respond badly to hugs, but canon says otherwise. This is a bad reaction:
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[Sonic 06]
Whenever I feel like being sad, I wonder if Bad-Future-06 Silver has ever been hugged.
This is a bad reaction:
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[Sonic Unleashed, gif source.]
And I shouldn’t have to say this, but...yeah. These are very bad reactions:
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[Sonic X]
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[Sonic Generations]
Yikes. I feel bad for both of them.
But this?
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[Sonic Adventure 2, gif source.]
This is Shadow’s only canonical hug in the games, and aside from jumping slightly from being snuck up on, he seems to like it just fine.
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Just look at that smile! He’s happy. He finds it endearing.
It was a hug from a complete stranger meant for someone else, but he still drank it in--and, given that he’d effectively just lost Maria, he really did need it. It’s the combination of Amy’s gentleness AND her speech that changed his mind. After all, if someone as sweet as her sees something in the humans, maybe they’re not so bad.
My buddy who runs @shadowxamyweek recently reblogged a post about this hug, and their tags sum it up perfectly:
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[ID: A screenshot of tags on a post. The tags read:
#official art #4kids #shadow the hedgehog #amy rose #YEAH 😭 #listen I read nothing that has happened with them in SA2 as shippy - and i ship them #THIS HUG? THR SPEECH ON THE ARK? #those are two lonely kids #those are two left behind kids #those are two kids so desperate for affection #for two vastly different reasons #Amy loves with her whole chest and will never stop doing so- no matter what happens #and Shadow does too- that is key to remember- Shadow loves... so fucking much... that it hurts #you are RIGHT op when you say this is probably the first time someone has been gentle with him in a long long time #he doesn't even run away #in the game- when Amy flees- he takes a step after her- a moment's hesitation- a 'wait' #this kid NEEDED a hug #and i firmly believe part of the reason Shadow listens to Amy in the end is BECAUSE she is the only person who showed him gentleness #softness and kindness and affection #if only for a moment #fjdodhdofjgor THIS is what i mean when i say 'be gentle- be kind' #it MATTERS #it FUCKING MATTERS
End ID]
Shadow doesn’t hate hugs inherently; it’s just that no one hugs him in the first place...
...aside from one person.
Amy’s easily the most affectionate character in the cast. It’s cute at first glance, but there’s a common thread to every instance that puts a damper on it.
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She’s always, ALWAYS the initiator.
She puts more into each hug than anyone else does.
She’s always the last to pull away.
The most reciprocated Amy hug I know of in canon is this one:
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[IDW Sonic issue #22]
Which is absolutely adorable...but Amy still initiated. Because it’s always her job. Even the characters who like affection don’t need it the way she does...with one exception.
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And this tiny detail just killed me. The little, “wait, come back 😟”
It’s the only time I know of when someone has actually stepped after her like this. In a game where everyone left Amy behind, he wanted to follow her. Mister so-called-prickly didn’t want the hug to end.
Because he’s the only one who needs it as much as she does.
He wants to be held as much as she wants to hold someone else, and no one else is warm and sincere enough for it. Compare these instances:
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[IDW issue #6]
Sonic thinks Shadow is wrong about something, so he grabs Shadow’s arm to stop him, and Shadow aggressively wrenches it away and leaves.
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[Archie Sonic Universe #23]
But when Amy thinks Shadow is wrong about something and grabs his arm to stop him, he gently removes her hand and thinks about what she has to say.
Even when he doesn’t want to be touched, he makes the distinction between “don’t touch me” and “not right now, please.” These are from two different continuities, of course, but I think the point stands. Amy’s special. He’s gentler with her than he is with other people, and that’s consistent across all canons.
Side note: how often does Amy get to feel special like that? I actually really like that Sonic doesn’t place others in a hierarchy of importance, and I wouldn’t change that about him even if I could...
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[IDW issue #2]
...but Amy does play favorites. I want her to feel like she’s someone else’s favorite, too. I want her to have someone who puts her first and likes her best. I think Shadow’s more than capable of that. I believe he craves clinginess like hers deep down, even if he hasn’t consciously figured that out yet.
I have an entire tag for these two being affectionate. My favorite is probably this one.
Of course, there may be those who say I’m reading too much into one (1) hug. And you know what? Maybe they’re right! We need a bigger sample size. Sega, make more characters hug Shadow, please. Let Rouge comfort him after he confides in her about something. Have Omega give him an awkward metal embrace because he read on the internet that organic beings like that kind of thing. Make Shadow himself pull Silver into a hug when he’s breaking down crying from the stress of always having to be a hero. Show Tails accidentally grab onto him out of fear when they’re trapped in a lightning storm, and when he gets embarrassed and pulls away, have Shadow hold him for the rest of the storm and admit he’s not fond of bright lights, either.
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[Sonic Boom]
That scene where Shadow and Amy rescue Cream and Cheese from Cryptic Castle? That easily could’ve turned into a cute group hug.
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[Shadow the Hedgehog (2005)]
And I have seen some absolutely adorable fanart where he holds Cream’s hand while he and Amy lead her through Cryptic Castle to make sure she doesn’t get lost 🥺
Have Knuckles give him an empathetic bro-pat on the shoulder when he finds out Shadow’s the last one of his race, too.
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[Archie Sonic Universe #89]
Have Sonic try to hug him, and then when Shadow inevitably pushes him away and says he doesn’t do hugs, have Amy arrive and latch onto Shadow instead while he tries to stutter out an excuse as to why she’s allowed to and Sonic isn’t.
The most affection Shadow has in recent history is stuff like this...
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[Sonic Prime season 2 episode 1]
...where Sonic tries to hug him and Shadow immediately pushes him away, knocks him over, and tries to punch him in the face. Kind of says it all. Amy stands out as the only one with a good track record here.
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[IDW issue #36]
Especially when you have him look at her like this when someone else is on the receiving end of that affection.
So in the absence of further evidence, I have no choice but to interpret this in the most Shadamy way possible. Your move, Sega.
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pocketgalaxies · 5 months
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fcg: i enjoy eating silver more than copper
imogen: i am genuinely scared to meet my mom again
chet: it is well known that wood is better than metal
laudna: deep down inside, both delilah and i kind of want the shard
laudna: i don't want [the shard], fearne should have it, but i don't know anymore what's my opinion or desires or feelings or [delilah's]
imogen: i love laudna deeply, but i'm disgusted at the thought of delilah looking at us all the time
orym: i'm super lonely all the time, especially at night. doesn't matter if i'm bunking with one of you guys
fcg: sometimes i pity some of you because you have beating hearts and opportunities and you don't do enough with them
fcg: chetney you have so much love to give and it doesn't seem like you're interested in anything, in ANYTHING, other than wood. there's people out there who you could love and experiences you could share with someone else, but all you care about is wood
orym: i've always laughed it off but i guess i do kinda wonder if chetney is my dad
ashton: i am the reason that the jiana hexum robbery went fucking wrong and the reason why i got thrown out of a fucking window
ashton: (laudna: is that why you feel like you deserved to have the nobodies leave you?) yeah.
fearne: i feel like we are very ill-equipped for this job and we're gonna fail at saving the world
chet: while wood may be the superior material to metal, i do fear that with the dwindling interest in it that children will find my toys and thereby myself obsolete every year that i grow older
fcg: i think it's something buried deep down in my circuitry, but every time i hurt or kill something, it feels really good. it makes me sorta relax a little bit and some of my stress goes away
imogen: i know we're supposed to save the gods but i've tried talking to them my whole life and none of them will ever respond. i think i'm tainted. i don't know if i want to save gods that don't love me
laudna: you know we could all ripcord out of this at any moment, and i don't mean this scavenger hunt, i mean saving the world, right? andsometimesifantasizeaboutitallthetime
fearne: sometimes i do stuff to you guys while you're sleeping. not weird stuff, i just like to look at you closely and...you know, just look at you. you look so content and comfortable and i can get up and look at you really well. and maybe twiddle your hair and like braid it. nothing bad! nothing bad!!
ashton: any time it's too quiet, i start worrying that one of us, most of us, are gonna end up killing another one of us accidentally. all of us. orym...very gently, but probably–orym may be the only one i worry about the least, but genuinely everybody else. i have panicked thinking about what happens when one of you kills another one of us
orym: (laudna: do you have any strong feelings one way or another kind of being the normal guy in a group of freaks who are all ticking time bombs? are you okay with that, do you have any strong feelings?) i have all the faith in the world in you guys, all of you. and i have also spent time thinking how to neutralize each of you
fcg: i kinda worry that i put all my eggs in the changebringer basket and she might betray us all, i had a really weird conversation with her and i think she's just out for herself and she might not really care about me
imogen: fearne, i was really disappointed in you for running away from your power, you should take the shard (laudna: you should take the shard)
orym: i really miss dorian, and sometimes i think that's okay and sometimes i think it isn't
pate: [laudna] is my creator, i don't have feelings, i'm a construction
ashton: i feel fucking worse that i just fucked up fearne's life way more than mine, and i should've died instead of that happening
chet: i grew up in the bramblewood outside of westruun, and when i was a kid, i came back from learning how to make toys and found that my whole family had left. all they left behind were toys. and they ran when errevon the rimelord was running across the plains so i'm kinda afraid of dragons. and i had five siblings, alabaster, pepper, sugarplum, hermey, and chad, and i was so mad that they left, i never looked for any of them. and now i'm pretty sure they're dead, so i think that any family i have is just gonna look for a reason to leave me, that's why i don't get attached to anybody
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marriedtobigfoot · 1 year
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A lot of people love to talk about teacher!Steve and I've seen people speculate about him teaching History, or English or Gym. But hear me out...Art Teacher.
Steve Harrington, who took art as an elective in highschool thinking it would be an easy grade, but who ends up actually really enjoying it. He likes the satisfaction of making something and the methodical process of doing it. Later in life he knows he wants to work with kids, but he doesn't think he would be happy trying to teach any of the core subjects like math or English, he never cared for them much himself, and even the classes he liked he wasn't super skilled in. Then he thinks back to that art class, remembers how much he enjoyed himself, and he finds himself taking classes towards a teaching degree a few months later.
After a while, Steve finds himself with a job teaching art at a local middle school. He loves it. He loves working with the kids, even though most of them are little assholes. Apparently, that isn't unique to the party. All young kids are kind of assholes. But they're also funny, and they put thought into the projects he gives them. He always gives them a lot of wiggle-room creatively, giving assignments that focus on certain techniques like painting or working with clay, but allowing them to choose the subject matter themselves. He works alongside them, making his own little projects. He isn't VanGogh by any means, but he kind of likes that. It helps show his students that they can have fun with the art and really make something they can be proud of without worrying about it being perfect or looking like something they would see in a museum. His students adore him. They tease him and make fun of him, but at the end of the day, almost every student who takes his class ends up raving about it to their friends. Parents he meets on occasion love him too. And only partially because he looks hot as hell with his glasses and his paint-stained apron.
At the end of a project, he has everyone go around and talk about what they made. He isn't picky. They can talk about their favorite part of making it, the story behind it, why they chose certain colors, and parts they struggled with. Any little bit of extra information about the project is enough to get the points. He wasn't expecting them to rope him into it when he first started. Now, he fully expects the questions they ask whenever he shows off a project with them.
The first project is charcoal drawings, and Steve draws a weird looking bat with a crazy mouth and no eyes. He tells the class that a bunch of his family play DND, and they have really vivid imaginations. It isn't a lie.
Next they do sand-art and Steve makes a set of patterns comprised of bright, vivid colors. Oranges and pinks and greens. He tells the class it represents his best friend, who is one of his favorite people in the world. A week later he tells the class that he showed her the sand art and she declared it the ugliest thing she had ever seen, then proceeded to hang it in her room with a bright smile on her face.
During the sculpting unit, he makes a homemade mug, with little fish carved on the side. He tells the class his father-in-law collects mugs, and this one is going to be a birthday gift.
The class seemed to like sculpting, so he does a unit on wire-art. He makes a small wire guitar and a wire ring. The class ask, with shit eating grins, if he's got somebody he's planning on proposing to. He happily tells them he already proposed, this ring is just for fun, since his partner loves to wear them.
Steve's small apartment fills up over the years with tons of art projects gifted to him by his students, paintings and drawings hanging on the walls, and a whole bookshelf dedicated to the 3D work. He remembers that first part class he took sometimes, back when he was just a sad kid who's friends were all assholes, he was a bit of an asshole himself, who didn't know that horrible things existed just under his feet. He thinks back on it fondly enough, but he couldn't be happier that he isn't that kid anymore. He's pretty damn pleased being the teacher now.
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mickmundy · 1 month
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scout's ma headcanon thread! she was requested by a couple of people and i'm having a burst of inspiration for her so without further ado, let's get to it! i hope you like!
absolutely not your average "housewife"! there's lots of professions i entertain her having (hair/nail salon worker, waitress/bartender, something Generally Unassuming for a woman in the 70s to have as a job)… all intentionally mundane, but serving useful purpose in her life! good for keeping tabs on things around the city, sussing people out and potentially letting spy know any hot goss! these are just day jobs; she gets her thrills elsewhere!
knows everything happening everywhere, anytime. spy learned lots of his intuition-based skills from her! any time spy thinks he knows everything, she always has something in her back pocket that he doesn't! >:)
has a VERY contagious laugh that you can hear miles away. she loves being loud! will clap you really hard on your back or slam her hand on the table when she laughs.
can hold her liquor better than anyone around! doesn't like to get sloppy, but that doesn't mean she doesn't from time to time! loves drinking beer, but will always enjoy a nice glass of wine with her beloved spy! :-) wouldn't/doesn't care if scout is lgbt+ lol. it's absolutely not a big deal to him to come out to her, either. he knows his ma means it when she says she loves him no matter what! she will occasionally hit him with "well ya better bring somebody home to meet me sometime!" (loud laughter)
i think she'd be more financially well-off than her home leads one to believe; she's good at stashing and moving around spy's cash! her apartment is humble but she always looks immaculate. doesn't let scout know how much money she really has. very financially savvy and an incredible negotiator… even if it means getting a little ugly! used car salesman tremble in her presence!
fights like a scorned gambler who's owed a debt. won't let you know she can fight, though! likes it when people think she's just some dainty dame.
is a material girl, but knows what really matters. fell in love with spy before he was The Spy he is today and values loyalty and trust/honesty above all else. some might think that's ironic considering her partner of choice, but she'll be quick to quip back with a snide/cheeky "of course that's what you think! you only know the mask!"
breaking balls is her love language. she'll tease you, but never maliciously. this is also scout's, and one of spy's, languages of love too.
always trying to feed you. "put some more meat on your bones! it's good for ya!" (pops gum and winks at you) while i think she no doubt is well-versed in the lifestyle that spy leads, she's not Directly "in-it" like spy is. not an agent of any kind herself, but gives spy a hand when she can. knows how to shoot a gun and wield a kitchen knife!
grew up dirt poor and has "a champagne taste on a beer budget". high standards, takes no guff, won't hesitate to put you in your place. this (and many other reasons) is why spy loves her :-)
very charismatic, knows how to lie, but also how to be sincere. is genuinely a good mother to her boys, who love her in return. they're all protective of her even though they know they don't have to be; she has no problem sticking up for herself!
spy was not her first husband, but he's her favorite! she loves him very much, and he loves her. they aren't exes, they're happily together, and have an open relationship.
she knows all of the mercs (some better than others ofc!) and won't hesitate to talk their ears off when she visits the base, armed with embarrassing photos and stories about spy and scout that make them both groan and the mercs holler with laughter!
she picks out spy's suits for/with him. she's the only one spy would ever trust to dress him other than himself! they always look great together and accessorize around each other.
she does not tell scout about who his father is. not because she doesn't want to, but she knows the nature of spy's job and knows "the business" from being around him for all this time; it's the best thing to keep scout and herself (also spy!) safe. i think scout would be angry at first, but once it's explained to him, he'd understand. ma knows best!
spy taught her how to walk in heels and does things like painting her nails for her all the time. he always makes sure she has enough money for a well-deserved spa day, but if she knows he's coming to town, she'll let her nails get a little busted up so spy can paint them for her!
she loves to look at spy and sigh a fond "ugh, i could just kill you!" while smirking/bating her eyes at him after/as he showers her with gifts and other wonderful things… to which spy chuckles and hums lovingly and replies with "mhmhmm, ma petite chou fleur, if anyone could, it would be you. <3" and they give each other the most Loving Look.. :')
she's younger than spy but not by much. they met while she was a waitress in a diner in boston while spy was on a mission to assassinate a target in the city early in his career (when his suits were still cheap.. <3). he hides in the diner after a particularly fiery shootout and his pursuers come into the place. she recognizes him as the Quiet Gentleman who has been coming in for coffee in the mornings to enjoy with a cigarette. covers for him and spy never forgets her kindness and quick wit. he comes back after the mission ends and, with his payout from the job, treats her to a romantic night and promises to see her again. no matter how far away spy goes, he always returns to her! she has more faith in him than he deserves (so he says), to which she smirks and straightens his (now expensive <3) suit tie and places a kiss on his balaclava's cheek and says "we both know i only deserve the best." and winks at him and he smiles at her and hums in agreement.. kisses her hand… siigh.. this is a massively condensed "origin story" for them lol but! AH I LOVE THEM
AHH I HAVE SO MANY MORE THOUGHTS BUT FOR NOW.... i will leave with all of this... HEHE TYSM for reading! ^__^ i hope you enjoy ehe!!
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