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mimisempai · 7 months

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Little notes of happiness

Summary

When Crowley wakes up that morning, it's not an angel beside him, but a small note written in his handwriting.

It's just the first in a little game Aziraphale has orchestrated to make sure his demon doesn't get bored without him.

Notes

I wasn't at all prepared for the story to go this way, and I hope you'll enjoy it.

Day 18 : Love notes

On Ao3

Rating G - 1564 words

As Crowley finally awoke, turning and blinking, he became aware of three things. The first was the absence of a warm body beside him, the second was the morning light streaming in through the open window, and the third was a small note on Aziraphale's pillow.

His mind still a little foggy from sleep, he grabbed the note and read what was written on it.

Crowley,

In case you forgot, I'll be away with the Bentley all day.

I'll be back this afternoon.

Keep an eye on the bookshop.

Love.

Aziraphale.

Now that he was awake, the demon remembered why Aziraphale had left. The angel had said that he had to visit several booksellers in the countryside. Since he'd complained several times about having to take the train, Crowley had suggested he take the Bentley. He would have gone with him, but he had a session at the planetarium himself. And while it was still a little hard to let him have the car, Crowley had to admit that the angel was taking good care of it.

Even though his session at the planetarium was much later in the morning, Crowley decided to get up. After dressing, he made his way downstairs and, passing the shelf of photos taken by Muriel, stopped to look at them and noticed two new ones.

He didn't know when, but the curious little bee had managed to take his picture during a session at the planetarium.

He couldn't help but smile at how enthusiastic he looked as he pointed up at the artificial sky.

But the second photo made him smile even more.

Muriel had managed to capture them both, Aziraphale drawing Crowley asleep on the sofa. He ran his finger gently over the photo, a little touched by the sense of domesticity it conveyed.

The little bee really had an eye for capturing moments like that.

Perhaps they could help them explore that talent.

When he reached the horse statuette on which his glasses were perched, he saw another note and chuckled softly as he read it.

When you go to Nina's for coffee, bring me some pastries.

But suddenly he stopped snickering, because this time the angel had signed with a heart! With a heart!

Who did he think Crowley was?

Though he was grumbling, the demon's cheeks were slightly pink as he tucked the little note into his pocket with the first one he'd found on the pillow.

Aziraphale often left him a note when he rose before him, and Crowley knew exactly why. The angel was well aware of his slight concern about the time Aziraphale was about to leave with Metatron, and even though that fear had faded from Crowley's heart, he still appreciated the little tradition that had taken root.

Although the angel seemed to have been zealous today in leaving him more than one. Which, if the demon was honest with himself, he didn't mind.

Crowley put on his glasses and left the bookshop to go to Nina's, returning a few moments later with a coffee and a plate of pastries.

He placed the plate on Aziraphale's desk and when he sat down on the sofa, he saw the newspaper there. He sat down, took a sip of coffee and opened the paper, from which fell another small note.

He picked it up and read it.

It's today's paper.

So you have something to do if you get bored without me, my dear.

Crowley shook his head and smiled. He didn't know what had gone through his angel's mind this morning, but now Crowley couldn't help but wonder if Aziraphale had left such little notes elsewhere.

Looking at the time on the old clock, he thought it might be something to discover after his session at the planetarium.

The little note joined the first two in his pocket, and he flipped through the paper while sipping his coffee until it was time to leave for the planetarium.

For the first time since he'd decided to take this little job at the planetarium, Crowley had found it hard to concentrate. He kept thinking about the little notes and had reached into his pocket several times to touch them.

When the session was over, he left the planetarium in a hurry and walked through the door of the bookshop a few moments later. He placed his glasses carelessly in the usual place and began to search.

It didn't take him long to find another little note lying on one of his plants, and he eagerly grabbed it.

I'm so proud of you. Despite the little stain on one of its leaves, you've been good to this plant.

PS: Don't roll your eyes, I know you're kind.

Crowley grumbled, "Angel...that's a low blow."

Which didn't stop the fourth note from joining the first ones in his pocket.

The demon continued to browse the shelves of the bookshop when his gaze suddenly fell on a book whose modern cover stood out among the ancient volumes. He pulled it out and saw that it was a book about the most beautiful beaches in the world. He opened it and was not surprised to find a small note between the cover and the first page.

How about a vacation next year?

Next year.

They'd already spent so much time together, but reading those words on paper made Crowley realize that they could actually talk about the future, and a future together. Closing his eyes, he could almost see himself on the beach, Aziraphale reading under an umbrella and him lazing in the sun next to him.

He put the note in his pocket, closed the book, and took it with him to the sofa to leaf through it while he waited for the angel.

But before he reached the sofa, his gaze was drawn to the gramophone, on which, of course, was a little note.

You know my talent for French, so to save you from hearing me butcher that language of love again, listen to this song and imagine it's me talking about you.

Crowley turned on the gramophone and sat down on the sofa to listen to the music. He laid his head back and closed his eyes as the first notes began to sound.

Des yeux qui font baisser les miens

Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche

Voilà le portrait sans retouches

De l'homme auquel j'appartiens

Quand il me prend dans ses bras

Qu'il me parle tout bas

Je vois la vie en rose

Il me dit des mots d'amour

Des mots de tous les jours

Mais moi, ça me fait quelque chose

Il est entré dans mon cœur

Une grande part de bonheur

Dont je connais la cause

C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie

Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie

Et dès que je l'aperçois

Alors je sens en moi

Mon cœur qui bat*

Crowley swallowed and looked again at the note in Aziraphale's handwriting.

Imagine it's me talking about you.

He muttered, "Angel, you can't write things like that."

"Why not? If it's the truth."

Crowley, startled, gasped and turned to see Aziraphale standing not far from the sofa. He had probably been so caught up in the song that he hadn't heard the angel come in.

Aziraphale moved to sit beside him and took his hand, "Of course I can say things like that, because it's true. That's how I feel."

He chuckled slightly and added, "Although Edith says it much better than I do in French. But it's true, life is so much better when you're with me."

Crowley replied quietly, "It's mutual, Angel."

Then he pressed his lips to Angel's and they kissed tenderly before curling up together on the sofa.

After a few moments, Aziraphale asked softly, "Did you have a nice day, my dear?"

Crowley kissed his hair and replied in an amused tone, "You made sure I had a good day, Angel, with your little notes. And while I found it very entertaining, I am curious as to what made you do it?"

Aziraphale shrugged, "Just a touch of silliness on my part."

"Don't look so embarrassed when you say that, I told you I enjoyed it. Although I did find you a bit cheeky in some of it."

The angel chuckled slightly and asked, "Did you find them all?"

Crowley listed them and Aziraphale replied, "There's only one you didn't find. Which is normal, because I have it with me."

He pulled out a small piece of paper and, blushing slightly, handed it to the demon.

Crowley unfolded it and, after reading it, pulled the Angel to him and whispered into his hair, "I love you too, Angel."

*Song translation :

Eyes that make mine droop

A laugh that's lost on his mouth

This is the unadulterated portrait

Of the man I belong to

When he takes me in his arms

When he speaks softly to me

I see life in pink

He tells me words of love

Ordinary words

But it does something to me

He's entered my heart

A great happiness

The cause of which I know

It's him for me, me for him in life

He told me, he swore it for life

And as soon as I see him

Then I feel inside

My heart beating

Edith Piaf - La vie en rose

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story 🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : here (After season 2)

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #good omens s2 spoilers

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chaotic-good-hippie · 1 year

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a glimpse of us

Pairing: Jonathan Levy x AFABreader (she/her)

Summary: Trying to deal with her husband’s affair, our protagonist takes a glimpse at their story, wondering if he ever loved her or if he just liked the idea of being loved.

Word count: 3,911

Warnings: Angst, cheating, mentions of sex, no use of y/n, non-descriptive reader (but it’s kind of implied reader isn’t Jewish). Also, I'm not Jewish, so if anything related to their tradition is incorrect, please correct me.

Other chapters: Chapter 1 · Chapter 2

Note: I completely forgot to mentioned it earlier, but OMG, one of my fav authors in this site reblogged last chapter and I just wanna say how great that made me feel; I almost cried. Heads up to @foxilayde, please go and read her work; she’s awesome.

Chapter 3: Numbness & Anger

Upon waking up the following day, she feels as if the previous night the world had ended in havoc, only to restart as if nothing had happened with the robotic sound of her alarm. There's a moment of confusion in which her hands roam lazily over the sheets for his warmth, stopping over his pillow as her brain gets rid of its morning fogginess. She keeps her eyes closed, clinging for dear life to the memory of him sleeping beside her: unruly curls, fluttering lashes, agape lips, slow breathing.

"Five more minutes." He always whispers groggily, his arms enveloping her closer to his chest when she attempts to get up from bed. Except for today, if his mouth pronounces those words out of habit, it won't be her who answers but Mira. It just then she wonders, after two years of replaying the scene each morning, if this little perk of his is something he preserved from his previous marriage and she's just a substitute to its rightful recipient by default. If so, what did she use to say? Was she as weak in the heart to him as her? Did she leave his side and run away? Was she the monster Jonathan had always led her to believe?

A gust of wind sweeps away the sweet memory of the lie she lived in and makes her realise she left the windows open last night. She sits on the bed, staring at the dark, chilly street outside, feeling that this pain, the one eating at her heart, will be forevermore. She wants to go back to sleep, pretend as if everything was just a bad dream and wait to wake up with him beside her, in his spot, where he belongs.

Five minutes, she gets up and goes to the bathroom to take a shower. He usually stays in bed for another twenty minutes as she does her make-up and hair in the bathroom, occasionally snorting loud enough for her to hear him through the door. Then he gets up, wakes Ava for school, and enters the bathroom to shower as she goes downstairs to prepare breakfast. By seven, the house, their little corner of the world, is alive: she can hear Jonathan walking upstairs, closing and opening drawers; Ava's dancing to music in her room as she gets ready; and herself moving around the kitchen and arranging the table.

Today, the place is dead quiet as she drinks her coffee at the kitchen counter. She looks at the living room, expecting to see him or Ava arranging their stuff, but there's only air. The furniture, ornaments and photos hanging from the walls, she picked them all on her own, just like she did the house, with him and his commodity in mind. He couldn't bother to come to the showing; he was too busy packing stuff in his old house and finalising the details of the divorce arrangement. He didn't say that when she made the appointment, though, instead standing her up with a single text five minutes before the realtor showed up. Still, she didn't express her anger and never complained about it, taking it upon herself to make the moving easier for him. She decorated the entire house, even his studio, and changed everything he or Ava found inconvenient when they moved in without protest, even when she asked him a million times to look at the plans beforehand. She wonders what he'll take: the couches, the coffee table, the carpet; it doesn't matter. Just like the years she's given him, it's all meaningless shit they're dividing up.

She always arrives ten minutes before her shift starts, an advantage of leaving near the hospital, but today she's a half hour early when she parks in the garage in front of the ER. She sits in her car for long minutes, gathering all her feelings and thoughts and concealing them far into the depths of her mind, there where they can't hurt her or her patients. Holding the steering wheel with more force than necessary, she rests her forehead on it and breathes in deeply. She winces when her wedding band, sitting around her finger since yesterday morning, buries in her skin painfully, drawing attention to her hands.

"Magical hands", Ava called them when she was five.

Surgeon hands, healer hands, fixer hands. Because in the end, that's what her job reduces to: healing, fixing. She spends entire days and nights healing and fixing torn skin, sprained ligaments, busted organs, broken men… Ever the foolish, she's always been told she doesn't know when to stop or declare something (or someone) a lost cause. It only makes sense, doesn't it? That's what brought him to her, and somehow ended up being their doom.

Her phone rang in the middle of the night, awakening her from the deep slumber she'd fallen into when she reached her bedroom a couple hours before. It wasn't uncommon for a cell phone or a beeper to go off in some room around the house at the craziest hours of the night, so she didn't think much of it as she groped the nightstand in search of the device. She sighed heavily as she rubbed her eyes before answering, doing her best to shake the sleepiness from her body in anticipation of what she expected to be a late ride to the hospital.

"Hello?" She sounded hoarse and tired, just like the rest of her, but the feeling quickly dropped to the back of her mind when a panicked and rushed voice answered her from the other side of the line.

"Hey, hi." A man said her name in a nervous greeting. "I'm sorry for calling this late, but I didn't know what else to do."

"Mr. Levy?"

"Yeah. Again, forgive me for the hour, but my daughter, Ava, she…." He was panting, gulping every few words like he was struggling to keep himself from crying. "She's burning in fever, she's coughing so hard she even threw up… And… and I… I don't know what to do. I've tried everything, but she just keeps getting worse. Please, I'm terrified. Could you please come over here and check on her, please?"

She was already putting on her sneakers, quickly glancing at the clock beside her: 3 am. If this was any other person, she'd probably told them to take their kid to the ER and leave her to sleep the four sacred hours a day she got, but Jonathan Levy had a way of lurking his way into people's sensibilities she'd never seen before.

"I'll be there in a minute, Mr. Levy."

"Oh, thank you so much." He sounded so relieved, almost on the verge of tears. "Thank you."

It took her exactly three minutes to put on a sweater, take the emergency kit, step into the cold, snowy night and spring up the street to the Levy's house. Jonathan was waiting for her at his door, frowning and breathing heavily, an embarrassed look with a mixture of pain on his face.

"You're an angel; you have no idea how grateful I am."

"It's not a problem." She smiled softly at him as he scratched his beard, her voice slow and comforting.

"She's upstairs, over here." He guided her to the second floor, stopping in front of a pink room. She could hear someone coughing from the inside, followed by gasps for air. She entered the room with Jonathan following her close behind to the bed where a small child lay holding a stripped plush firmly to her chest.

"Hi, Ava." She introduced herself to the girl as she kneeled beside her. "I'm just going to check everything's alright, okay?"

The kid nodded, looking back at her dad for comfort and prompting him to sit on the floor on the opposite side where she was kneeling to hold her hand.

"How old is she?" She asked as she took out the extra stethoscope from the emergency kit they kept at home.

"Five."

"Vaccinated?"

"Yes."

"When did she start coughing?" He began to ramble, explaining how she had been perfectly fine all afternoon, how he didn't notice anything strange, that she started feeling bad at around seven, that he thought she was dying or something. "Don't torture yourself, Mr. Levy. She's going to be fine; kids are very resistant."

She asked a couple more questions as she checked her pulse and oxygen, noticing her nails were slightly blue, as well as her lips. She moved slowly as to not startle either father or daughter and explained step by step what she was doing to try to calm down the poor man, who occasionally murmured what seemed to be prayers under his breath. Even for a parent, she thought, his reaction was quite odd; he came off as guilty, even.

"Mr. Levy…"

"Call me Jonathan."

"Jonathan," For some reason, the name rolled off her tongue with more familiarity than it should, "everything's going to be alright; it's nothing serious. According to her symptoms and what you've told me, it's probably just bacterial pneumonia. I need to keep an eye on her for the next hours, but for now, let's try to get her fever down, okay?"

"So there's no need to take her to the ER?" He seemed relieved as he kissed his daughter's temple.

"Not for now. Let's see if her fever goes down first. Do you have a bathtub?"

"Yes. Do I fill it with cold water?"

"No, it's too sudden of a temperature change; it needs to be lukewarm. I can fill it as you undress her if you want. Tie her hair as well; it's better if it doesn't get wet."

"I want mommy." The girl suddenly said in a weak whisper, a tear sliding down her cheek.

"Is your wife working late, Jonathan?" She had no idea what Mrs. Levy worked on, but as someone who constantly found herself working at those ungodly hours, she didn't find it strange for another person to be out of home at such an hour. "Do you think she could come home? Her presence could help Ava a lot."

"Mira… My wi–" Both the name and the word he had said so many times before for the past decade tasted odd on his tongue. "Ava's mother's not… Not in the country."

It suddenly clicked why she hadn't seen her around for the past month or so. It wasn't as if they were friends, they were just neighbours who occasionally greeted them on their way to work, but it had been a while since she'd bumped into her at the supermarket or the local coffee shop.

"Don't worry, she has you; everything will be fine."

She stayed the remaining of the night by Ava's side against her better judgment, even after her fever went down a little. At some point, she didn't even know how, they ended up talking in whispers on the floor beside her bed, where, perhaps because he had no one else to tell, he confessed his wife had left him. She heard him, a broken man, retell the night it all ended, the morning she left, the questions she never answered, the things he regretted… Why? She'll never know. So, of course, when Winona called her at seven asking her where she was, she couldn't help but promise she'll come back in the night to check on the kid and him. She did, she came back that night, and the next, and the next, and suddenly she found herself in his house whenever Ava was with Mira till late hours, just talking. She had the feeling he didn't get to do that much often, let himself be vulnerable since he had to take care of his daughter and be strong for the both of them. She didn't mind hearing him; it was, in fact, the highlight of her day, which is the reason why, when he asked her if she knew any good therapist, she nervously gave him the number of a colleague with the fear she'd run out of excuses to see him.

Nonetheless, he called a few days later, asking if she wanted to hang out next Friday night when she returned from work and drink this new wine he'd bought recently. Weekends night, whenever she didn't have a night shift, became reserved for him, and it suddenly happened that she became interested in how she looked, smelled, and even talked and walked. One day, the silly crush became love, and she didn't even notice until she caught herself daydreaming about him, his eyes, his smile, his laugh, as she charted. Like a schoolgirl, she'd write his name on the corner of her books, giggle every time his name popped up on the screen of her phone, and smile whenever any of her friends mentioned him. But that's the thing about clandestine meetings and longing stares, they're born from just one single glance, but they die a million little times.

It's like she's on autopilot, walking up and down the hospital with a bunch of interns walking close behind and following her every order. Dislocated bone, busted organ, burnt skin, broken heart; her so-called magical hands can fix and heal all of these, but the last. So instead, she numbs it and tries to keep her mind off it by mending everyone else's ailments and hurts. The problem with this, though, is that doctors need to feel, to be human, as much of a contradiction as it sounds, to avoid mistakes and achieve perfection. In medicine, there are protocols and detailed instructions to repair what's broken, but sometimes, just as in day-to-day life, things go wrong, and one must act out of instinct. Throughout the day, she walks, talks and acts in a blurred haze, physically there but mentally drifting until a beeping sound brings her back to reality.

"She's crashing."

The resident in front of her tells her as she stares at her hands in confusion, blinking a few times to focus her sight. There are a bunch of people moving around her, moving stuff, cleaning, shouting: a resuscitation room.

"What are you doing?" She hears a familiar voice in front of her, and when she looks up, she finds Thiago looking at her in alarm as he holds a pair of large clamps to the cut. "What are you waiting for!?"

She looks down, where someone's daughter or mother, perhaps both, lies unconscious on a pool of blood. She's hands deep into her thorax, a cascade of scarlet liquid falling from the open wound at her side to the floor, staining her scrubs.

"What?" She doesn't know what she's supposed to be doing or what procedure her hands were working on without her even knowing. She examines the cut and the position of her hands in search of a clue as the beeping sounds of the machines warn her she doesn't have much time.

"Hold this tight. Don't move." Thiago tells a resident before quickly getting by her side to move her out of the way. "Take your hands out carefully."

Breath in. She pulls her hands from the patient's chest, holding back the tears. Breath out. Thiago shoves her aside and continues the procedure as he orders around. Breath in. One of her interns asks her if she's alright and if she should get help for her. Breath Out. She stutters something before leaving the room, looking at her gloved, bloodied hands, horrified. In the scrubbing area, she shakily rips the latex gloves from her skin, reddening it with the friction, throwing them into the trash along with her surgical scrub and mask. She washes her hands as she bites her lips so hard she draws blood, then sprints to the elevators in a confused daze.

Healer, fixer, surgeon

It had taken her 25 years to become a surgeon: 12 in grade school, 4 in college, 4 in med school, 4 in residency and 1 in trauma fellowship. A fourth of her life spent nose-buried in books; sleepless nights memorising names and definitions; countless hours cutting and stitching; and she loved every second of it, even the bad moments because this is what she was born to do, what her hands were meant for. She doesn't lose her temper; she can't. There are lives that depend on it. She'd always pride herself on it, holding reason when everything else is in chaos, but even that, he's taken from her now. Her head is spiralling, making her gulp to avoid throwing up as she presses a random bottom: What is she supposed to do? Go back home and tolerate it? Pretend she doesn't know and keep letting him believe he's a good player in his little games. Remove the dagger and leave their lives in ruins? Therapy? Could she ever trust him again? Because in the end, he'll keep seeing her; as the mother of his child, she'll keep being a constant in his life forever. What if he doesn't even want to stay? If this was his plan all along, if he's just been waiting for her to get the memo? What is she supposed to do, then? Help him pack his stuff and Ava's?

Fixer, healer, mother

Ava, her sweet little girl, ever so happy and bubbly, she illuminated any room she walked into. Whatever she did would inevitably affect her, and no matter how much Jonathan insisted that his and Mira's divorce didn't trouble her, she knew better. Ava had called her hands magical when she was five. Because she cured her, she eased her pain; she'd gone above and beyond to protect and save her from the fall of heartache. She wasn't her daughter; she'd never dared to call her as such out loud, fearing she might be overstepping her role and making Mira uncomfortable. Still, it was clear as day she saw the girl as her kid because in everything but in name, she was her mother.

"Is daddy coming back?" She asked her once as she drove her to school some weeks after they moved in together while Jonathan was in Europe.

"What do you mean, sweetie?"

"Is he coming back, or will I only see him on the weekends like mommy?"

"No, baby, he's coming back next week, remember? To the new house, darling, he's just working."

"And how long will you stay?" The question didn't make sense.

"We live together now, honey."

"I know, but how long are you staying?"

"Ava, baby, I'm not sure what you're trying to ask me."

"Adults are always leaving, like Poli. When are you living?"

"Oh, Ava." She parked the car a block from the school, unsure what to say as she turned to look at her. "Baby, I'm not leaving. Ever. I love you and your dad so much I'd never even think about it; I'm staying forever. Didn't Poli and your mom talk with you before he left?"

"They said they didn't love each other anymore and that adults sometimes stopped getting along."

"Yeah, that sometimes happens, but don't worry" She bopped her nose lovingly. "That won't happen again, I promise."

"Is that what happened to my parents?" The questions caught her off guard. Hadn't Jonathan talked with her about the separation?

"I think you should ask your dad or Mira about that, sweetheart."

Later, when she asked him about it, he admitted neither he nor Mira had ever brought up the subject with Ava, and even though she nagged him about doing it for days after he came back, she's not sure he ever did. It wouldn't surprise her; that's just how he is: constantly avoiding talking about important matters that make him uncomfortable, pretending everything's going well. She's never judged him for it, part of her nature was avoiding confrontation; as a doctor, she'd even been trained on it. However, all that repressed anger and frustration is now boiling up to the surface, and med school certainly never taught her how to save herself from it.

Wife, fixer, healer

She loves him, she loves him more than anything or anyone else in the world. From the day she met him, her heart had got captured by those brown eyes of his, begging to be loved. She had helped him, carried him through his pain without expecting anything in return. It was him the one who took the first step, and more than once, she asked him if this was indeed what he wanted, if he was ready to give her his all just like she was. When he popped the question, both her family and her friends asked a million times if she thought it was the right decision. It's not as if she didn't see the red flags; she did. She just chose to ignore them and blindly trust he could get to love her as much as she did someday. She had healed him, helped him fix the parts of himself he loaded and showered him in love in such a way he never felt unappreciated. It was her, not Mira, who gave him enough confidence to rebel against the deepest of his fears and insecurities and become the man he's now. She's given him so much, everything she has to offer, all while he sees her as a simple footnote in the story of his life.

"FUCK” She screams after slamming the employees' bathroom door behind her. "Fuck you, Jonathan! Fuck you!"

She clenches her shaking fists close to her chest as she slides down the wall to the floor, where she aggressively hits the ground.

"I'll take the morning train." She can picture him mocking her with Mira, laughing on his way to work, and patting himself on the back before entering their house because his wife is such an idiotic fool. She wants to put all the blame on her, believe she broke him to the very edge of survival, and that's why he had to become this to keep on living. But the truth is Jonathan is an adult, a 46-year-old man who is perfectly capable of making his own choices, aware of their consequences. Yeah, Mira is a terrible person, but right now, she couldn't care less about her; it's Jonathan, her husband, to whom her whole hatred is directed to. Jonathan, because he's, once again, putting Ava in the middle of his shit. Jonathan, because it's so characteristic of him doing and saying the most wrecking stuff in the worst moments. Jonathan, because he's made her a joke to his family and friends. Jonathan, because even now, she still loves him wholeheartedly.

"Sweetie…" Someone calls her a few feet away, and when she looks up, she finds Jenny worriedly looking at her; she hadn't seen her when she entered the bathroom. "Is everything alright? Did you have a fight with Jonathan?"

"Jenny…" She cannot recognise the teary whisper that comes out of her mouth when just a second before, her voice was so full of rage. "I… I'm pregnant." She doesn't know why she says that, but suddenly, the realisation hits her: it's not only Ava, it's also the child she's carrying in her womb who's gotten caught in the crossfire.

"What?"

"Fuck." She whimpers, hugging her legs to her chest, tears cascading down her face. Jenny, confused, sits beside her and allows her to lean on her shoulder until she's good enough to speak.

#jonathan levy #scenes from a marriage #jonathan levy x y/n #jonathan levy x reader #jonathan levy x you #angst #oscar isaac #reader insert

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simplyshelbs16xoxo · 2 years

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'The Ghost of Black Rose Hall' Chapter 3: so long and lost

Ao3 | Buy Me a Coffee?

His dreams had consisted of fire and echoing screams he presumed to be his own. At one point, it depicted him and Mycroft as they are now in the presence of the little girl, her back turned toward them. She turned abruptly, a sharp glare in her eyes. “You look funny grown up,” she told them. The moment he woke that morning, Sherlock made it a point to write a letter to his brother, insisting he visit as soon as possible. Inside, he enclosed the photo, hoping it would encourage him to make haste.

Days passed without a word from Mycroft. Perhaps his brother was just as surprised, or most likely, had kept this secret his whole life. The question was ‘why?’ Where were his memories of the girl? And why, when he repressed them, did everyone find it best to keep her a well-kept secret? Musgrave Hall had clearly been his family’s home once. Briefly, he wondered whether James Moriarty knew anything about this. It was a long shot, but it wouldn’t hurt to inquire.

Sherlock set out the next morning to Black Rose Hall, unable to keep from glancing up at the attic window, and knocked upon the door. It opened a crack, only wide enough to see half of Moriarty’s face. “What do you want, Mister Holmes?” his voice was naturally soft, but there was an underlying threatening tone to it.

“Did you know Musgrave was once my family home?” he asked, curious of what details he might glean from his landlord.

James opened the door wider. “Yes; I assumed that was why you decided to retire here.”

“And what of my sister?” he pushed on, ignoring the lack of sanity in the man to get the answers he needed.

He clenched his jaw, his nostrils flaring. “You tell me,” he snarled. “Step foot here again, Mister Holmes, and I promise I’ll rip the heart out of you.”

The rain poured down that night. Thunder boomed so forcefully, it shook the foundation. Sherlock rested comfortably in his chair as he paged through his book. He paused to take a sip of whisky, taking the edge off. There was no denying that Moriarty was a despicable man, so closely resembling the behaviours of psychopaths he had dealt with in the past.

He continued his reading, thinking up ideas for new experiments. The hooting of the owl outside kept him company. Lightning flashed, illuminating the room through the windows.

Tap Tap. Tap.

The wind picked up, whistling loudly.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

He elected to ignore it. Most likely, it was a branch from the tree nearby.

Tap tap tap tap.

It was frantic now, lower in tone, even. Sherlock stood with a sigh, closing his book. He peered out the window, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. The storm raged outside. From his downstairs sitting room, he could see directly into the foggy graveyard, the trees’ branches swaying in the wind. But wait…there was a figure winding its way through the headstones. It was almost translucent. “Impossible,” he muttered, watching the figure disappear further into the fog in the direction of the old abandoned church.

Despite the downpour, Sherlock quickly grabbed his coat and headed outside to follow after her. He ran toward the dead, buried six feet below his feet. Most of the stones were worn and faded. It would have been difficult to make out any of the names even without the rain and fog. Thunder rumbled again overhead. He picked up the pace. It wasn’t much longer until the crumbling safe haven came into view.

Quickly and quietly, he entered the church, shutting the door behind him, blocking out the wind that had begun to pick up tremendously. It was just the one room, four rows of pews on either side. There came a shuffling of a shoe against the stone floor as if someone had slipped for just a moment. “Hello?” he called out. Not a sound was to be heard. The room was too dark, save for the occasional flash of lightning.

His steps were delicate as he moved toward the front of the room. If there was someone here, the last thing he wanted to do was frighten them. He continued his slow trek toward the front row.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” he insisted. “I just want to help, if that’s what you need.”

The clouds must have parted just a little outside, he realised, noticing a beam of moonlight shining through the window. It illuminated the room just enough for him to notice a bit of white gauzy fabric sticking out from behind the large wooden pulpit. He stopped just before it when a soft, raspy voice spoke out. “Nobody can help the dead.”

#sherlolly #the ghost of black rose hall #my fanfiction

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alegendoftomorrow · 3 months

Text

Snowed in Grief

Summary: Not all wounds can be seen, and sometimes it takes being trapped in a childhood cabin to open those sores and let them be healed.

Characters: Natasha Trace and sister!reader. First person, no use of name other then “little sister”. No physical descriptions of reader

Word Count: 1659

Warnings: Mentions of grief and death of a family member. Mentions of being hungover/alcohol consumption to cope. Some cursing

A/N: This is my second entry into @sailor-aviator winter challenger. My prompt was snowed in and I wanted to take this one in a little bit of a different direction. I know for so many of us the holidays can be a time of grief and loneliness rather than the joy they are for others. For anyone who thinks they are alone in this, I want you to know that you’re not. I’m here and I understand. You don’t have to struggle alone; you don’t have to be alone. Reach out to those around you and if you have no one to support you then know that I am here and always willing to listen or just be there for you. I’m happy to sit with you in the dark until you’re ready to stand up again. Always.

The wind howled against the window panes and rattled the walls of the house. Sending a chill straight up my spine despite the warmth radiating from the crackling fire. My eyes watched the wood shift as the flames continued to eat away at them. Turning the solid structures to blackened ash and smoke that floated up the chimney. With another long sigh I curled up tighter into the side of the ancient couch. Pulling up the grey throw blanket Natasha must have laid over me last night when I fell asleep over my shoulders. Everything hurts but especially my head, which pounds in a rhythm that’s out of tune with the shuddering windows.

“Ah she wakes,” Nat’s voice cuts through my foggy thoughts and I shift only enough so I can see her leaning against the doorway that leads into the kitchen. Her usually perfectly hair is loose about her shoulders and fluffier from where she’s run her fingers through it. A mug with the words World’s Best Sister is steaming in her hands. “How are you feeling?”

I ignore her question and turn back to the fire. Shifting enough I’m sitting up with my knees against my chest and my arms wrapped around them. “You know it’s a week past Christmas right,” I say instead.

I can’t see her expression but I’m sure she looks down at her very bright red, fluffy pajama pants that have Merry Christmas written in white letters all over them. She laughs and I hear her walk over and sit down on the other end of the couch with a sigh.

“It’s not the New Year yet so I can still celebrate,” she says with a self-satisfied tone that almost pulls a smile to my lips. “Isn’t that what mom always says?”

“Said,” I correct. A habit now. A correction I can’t stop myself from making. Like it’s an impulse I have no control over. “It’s what mom always said.”

Silence falls between us as the wind picks up again. Only this time it’s muted slightly by the snow that’s drifted up to the edge of the windows. Covering the back porch and no doubt nearly burying Nat’s car that she used to drive all the way out here to find me in our family’s cabin. The one mom left me in the will Nat had been executive of four months ago. The cabin we had played in as little girls. Our heights still carved on the door and our artwork still stuck to the fridge. Nat’s little grey jets zooming through a crayon blue colored sky and my rows of flowers in every different color. All of it untouched. All of it the same as the last time we had been up here. Except for the now empty liquor cabinet and the pile of photo albums sitting unopened on the coffee table in front of us.

“Right,” Nat finally breaks the silence. “You know she’d hate the fact you didn’t decorate this place.”

“She’d hate a lot more things about me then just that,” I shoot back. My eyes starting to blur with tears as I set my lips in a hard line to keep the sob out of my mouth.

Nat sighs again and I hear her set her mug down on something.

“No, she wouldn’t. She’d be upset that you were hiding here by yourself instead of with your family but—”

“I’m not hiding!” I snap. I wince at how childlike it sounds. Setting my jaw and turning my body suddenly to face Nat who’s sitting up straight and proper on her side of the couch. The perfect little soldier.

It’s not fair but I seethe anyway. I didn’t tell anyone where I was going specifically so this wouldn’t happen. I wanted to be alone. I deserved to be alone. Nat had always been better about…. well, everything. Always the first, always the champion, always the pride and joy of our family. The All-American Softball star with a full ride and a shot at the pros who’d given up that dream for a career as a Naval Aviator. Valedictorian and prom queen. The oldest child with medals and trophies proudly displayed on the walls of our parents’ homes. Then there was me. The wild child, the rebel, the girl with her nose stuck in everything but a book. I was Nat’s opposite in nearly every way. Well, almost every way.

“You have no idea what it’s been like for me for this past year. You weren’t here! I was the one who stayed, who took care of everything, who made sure everyone knew what was happening with mom. I made sure she took her pills and I was the one who stayed up for days on end when she got so bad, she’d stop breathing! I gave up my whole life to come and take care of her and I never once asked you, or anyone else for help!”

My voice is laced with grief and it shakes despite my best efforts not to let it. Tears, hot and burning trace down my cheek as I swallow back the burning remnants of alcohol that try and climb their way back up.

“That’s not fair! I would have—”

“I know you would have! Because you’re perfect right? Because you can always o everything right and poor little me can’t handle anything?” The words are out of my mouth before I can really think about them and it’s only when Nat looks at me like I’ve slapped her do I regret them.

I look away and bury my face into my knees as I start to sob again. Whatever pain last night’s bender had numbed now coming back full force. Anger and grief knot my stomach and choke off my sobs as I only half gasp for breath. Wishing instead that I too would stop breathing. Maybe then it wouldn’t hurt so much. Maybe then I could stop hurting people.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it I—I… I just wanted to prove to them, to—to you that I wasn’t a failure. That I could do one thing right. That I could take care of mom and she’d--… she’d…” My muffled words fade out. Choked off by another cry that tightens my throat. I feel the couch shift and then Nat’s arms are around me. Strong and sure as they always have been, she squeezes me close and without thinking I curl into her. A child seeking the comfort that she’d denied herself.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m sorry too. I’m so sorry little sister. It was never your job to take care of her alone. You never had to prove anything to anyone. Least of all me. I’m sorry I ever made you feel like you had to,” her voice breaks as she squishes the last words out.

I close my eyes and move my arms to wrap around Nat’s body. Shifting until my knees are laid over her thighs and I’m practically in her lap. She’s crying too. I can feel the tears soaking my hair as her hands grip into my sweatshirt. Her body curling around mine too.

“I’m sorry you ever thought yourself less then. You are a wonderful, and amazing, and talented young woman. I wish you could see that about yourself. I wish you could see the woman I see when I look at you. The woman mom saw. Even if you are a major pain in the ass most of the time.” We both half laugh at that as I sniffle against her chest.

“Above all that though you are my sister. You will always be my sister first and I’m sorry if I made you feel abandoned, or alone but I’m here now and we can get through this together. Okay?” Her question is a plea that pierces my heart and for one second, we are eight and five years old again. Hiding in a blanket fort with our stuffed bears and a flashlight, promising to be sisters forever. Promising never to leave each other’s sides. Promising to have each other’s backs always.

“Okay,” I whisper. Pulling away and wiping my eyes with the back of my sleeve. “Okay.”

Nat smiles through her own tears and wipes at my face. Gently tucking the fly aways off my forehead and wiping the last of my tears as I sniffle again and lean back down into her shoulder.

“Okay then,” she says. Clearing her throat and snuggling me closer beside her. “Then first after this snow clears up and we can actually get out of here, we’re going to go home and you are going to come out to San Diego with me. My apartment is big enough for the both of us and we’re going to be stationed there for a while still.”

“I don’t know if that’s such—” I start.

“This wasn’t up for debate,” Nat interrupts. “I miss my sister and you can’t stay here alone. Mom would want us to be together. To help each other get through this. We’ll take it one day at a time. Maybe we can both start over there. A fresh page, a new chapter for the Trace sisters.”

I nod. For the first time in a while, I can see a tiny glimmer of hope floating somewhere far ahead of me. San Diego sounds like a good place to start over. It’s not a cure and it won’t fix everything, but maybe, just maybe it can be the start of something. Maybe all of this grief doesn’t have to be the end of everything.

“Okay.” Is all I say for now.

Outside the wind silences itself against the fluffy banks of snow, which now feel less like a prison and more like a safety blanket. Waiting to be pulled away to reveal something beautiful underneath. Like a row of multicolored flowers.

#Liz’s Christmas challenge #writing challenge #top gun fic #top gun fanfiction #natasha trace #natasha phoenix trace #christmas #snowed in #grieving #unhealthy coping mechanisms #new start #snowed in grief #top gun maverick

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orionwhispers · 3 years

Text

Bravado // Tommy Shelby Imagine

(A/N - its been a long ass time and i wanted to ease myself back into writing but this ended up being long and also super super angsty. sorry that this illness imagine came during covid idk whats going on with my imagination lol. love you guys SO much thank you for always being there. reblogs, comments and likes mean everything to me.)

trigger warnings - LOTS of angst. fluff. implied smut. my hc that tommy has a fear of illness, bad descriptions of hospitals.

He knew something wasn’t right the minute his car pulled into the driveway and you weren’t waiting for him under the great concrete arch, with that smile on your face that made his knees buckle and heart race like he was a love struck teenager.

You were always there as soon as he came home. Barefoot in a broderie dress in the summer with tousled hair and baby pink toenails. Wrapped in a hand knit blanket with fire flushed cheeks and woollen socks in the winter - even running across the gravel and into his arms in the middle of a storm, the ice cold rain whipping across both of your faces as you kissed under the light of the moon.

No matter how shit his day or week or month was, no matter what stained his hands or darkened his heart, no matter what lay heavy and hard deep in his gut, seeing you made everything vanish in the night air like wisps of smoke. You made everything worth it.

He refused to give into fear, he wasn’t that kind of man, so he swallowed all of the nagging thoughts and apprehensions as he came up to the dark foggy windows and the iron cast door. It felt strange turning his key in the lock without the weight of you in his arms or the sticky peach kisses you left down his jaw and neck, the smell of the vanilla in your hair and lavender on your skin.

The second thing that sent a jolt of white hot electricity down his spine was Mary, watching him anxiously and wringing her hands in the hallway. Usually, she was calm and collected, taking his jacket and leather travel bag with her signature placid smile and gentle fingers. Usually she would return to the kitchen and finish up whatever she was making - a hearty roast lamb with rosemary and garlic and glazed potatoes or a pheasant pie with honeyed carrots, always followed by a three layer chocolate ganache cake that was so thick and rich you practically had to saw through the sponge. She would always have dinner piping hot and dripping with gravy by the time the two of you returned downstairs, no matter how many hours it took for you to get... reacquainted.

Now she looked sheepish and pale, her skin almost translucent under the syrupy yellow lights. There was something about the way she stood, as still as a wraith, that made his blood run cold.

“Mary. Where is she?”

“Mr Shelby, I - ” Her voice was strained and hesitant, like a slowly fraying rope.

“Where is my wife?”

She moved forward, creases forming around her eyes. “We tried ringing you in Liverpool but the hotel said that you had already left, so we...”

“You rang me? Why? What’s happened?” He couldn’t hold back the desperation in his voice, and it lingered and festered around them both like a poisonous gas.

“Mrs Shelby came down with something a few days ago, we thought that it was just a common cold but unfortunately she seems to be getting worse.”

He tore upstairs before he could even think, his shoes leaving perfect muddy footprints on the cream carpet. He almost slipped at the top, and he lurched forward, his hands reaching out and holding onto the portrait hanging above the stairs for stability.

It was the oil of the two of you. A soft, personal picture that revealed more than he ever possibly could. The love in your gazes, the hint of a soft, drunk smile on the dangerous gangsters face as you leaned into him, melting into him like butter, him holding onto you as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. It was his favourite photo, one that always washed a sense of calmness over him, a reminder of the woman that he loved and the way he felt around you. But now he felt as if was riding out a terrible storm.

He lived his life with no fear, he was capable and practical and used to the sound of bullets and the copper sweet smell of blood. There was really only one thing, one terrible thing that he couldn’t control, and that was what drove him crazy.

Sickness.

It gnawed at his insides like a rabid dog, clawed under his skin and settled behind his ribs. Losing someone he loved was like ripping out a piece of his heart straight from his chest, and he knew better than anyone what it was like to lose somebody to a violent, quick death - the pull of a trigger or the smack of a fist. At least in those moments he could lock them away in his mind, he could leap in front of a bullet or crack the neck of any man who dared to get too close to you, but there was almost nothing he could do to stop sickness, and the devastation it caused.

When you first met him it had been a surprise, almost amusing, that this powerful God of a man had these small little quirks. His house was always sparkling clean and smelling of Lysol, his fruit bowls were filled with citrus fruits and round, plump blueberries. He always made sure you were wrapped up warm in the winter, always placing his coat around your shoulders and bringing an extra pair of gloves in case you forgot yours. It was adorable, the way he took care of you,

It wasn’t till a little bit later when you learnt of those he had lost. His mother and his childhood sweetheart taken away from him much too soon. It broke your heart when he told you late one night of the sallow tint of their skin and the way he could almost see them vanishing from earth, the way that illness had moulded and changed those he loved the most.

You understood.

Your best friends older sister had died of tuberculosis when you were young. The elderly woman across the street from your first flat had passed away from a bout of horrendous smallpox. Your brother lost his first child to pneumonia. Times were changing but the fear of disease was ever present. Medicine was improving and so was knowledge, but still there remained a huge, dark cloud of what could happen, one that always hung around your husbands head.

——————————————-

All Tommy could think was the worst as he ran through the landing. His heart was in his ears and his bones felt loose, like the sweet liquorice the two of you would share at the pictures. He came to a stop by the bedroom door, tentatively pressing his palm onto the wood and ever so slightly pushing it open, listening to the gentle creak it made.

The room was warm. The lace curtains were pulled shut, and your favourite lavender candles were flickering on your vanity, casting syrupy shadows against the wall. He exhaled loudly as he saw you, bundled up under a mountain of satin sheets and hand crocheted blankets, your hair splayed across the pillows.

He moved to your bedside, pretending not to notice the large, untouched jug of water and the tissue box next to you, hoping and silently praying that you weren’t sick - just asleep and waiting for him, ready to wrap your arms around his neck.

You were silent, your lips parting every so often as you breathed, your chest rising and falling. He reached out gently, as though he was picking up shards of glass, and brushed his fingers against your cheek. Your forehead was beading with sweat, your cheeks flushed, and yet your skin was ice cold to the touch. He recoiled quickly, his heart dropping like a weight into his gut, and he inhaled a shaky, deep breath.

He saw something curled up beside your hands, a fluffy white cloud with sparkling emerald green eyes trained on him. Despite everything, he smiled. He thought of your birthday - of strawberry cheesecake and champagne, and surprising you with a ribbon wrapped little kitten as you woke up. He thought of that day often. How you smiled and leapt onto him with tears in your eyes, his whole world blissfully quiet as he spent the day in bed with you and your new best friend.

He would have preferred a big dog, one with sharp teeth and a menacing gaze to ward of visitors whilst he was away. But you were drawn to the tiny, malnourished runt of the litter who was scared of his own shadow. A kitten no bigger than the size of his clenched fist. A little white hairball who only ate and drank from fine pink saucers. A cat that had a very frustrating habit of crawling in the bedroom right as Tommy’s hand was up your skirt and his lips on the sweet spot of your neck, the tiny thing mewling and crying until you picked him up and nuzzled him into your chest.

He was a horse lover through and through, and never saw himself having time for any other pets. But in the summer when you saw the litter from one of John’s barn cats and fell in love with the sweet baby who mewled and cried and crawled right into your lap - he knew that he would give you anything and everything you wanted.

Including a cat who refused to accept that Tommy was the man of the house.

“Hello, boy.” He said, leaning over to scratch Comet under the chin, using a voice he only reserved for the two of you. “Have you been looking after my girl whilst I’ve been gone?”The cat meowed loudly in reply, pressing his head into Tommy’s palm but not moving from his spot beside you.

Tommy suddenly felt you shift under him and his heart lurched into his throat. He turned to face you, cupping the side of your clammy face as your eyelids fluttered open, blinking under the candlelight. A rush of red hot heat built up in his belly as you registered him, that angelic smile growing on your face, your tired eyes glimmering with recognition of the man you loved.

“Tommy?”

“Hi, Princess.”

You smiled sadly. “You’ve been gone for weeks - I missed you.”

He felt his brows crease as he rubbed along your jawline softly, trying to stop you from falling back asleep. He felt panic in his throat as sour as vomit, and he tried to bite back the nagging feeling that something was very wrong.

“No, sweetheart, I’m early. It’s only Thursday. I left on Monday.”

“Oh.” You said softly, your voice as gentle as the breeze rustling through the trees outside. “Well let me welcome you back properly - let me make you a lemon drizzle or a...” You lifted your head from the pillow and shuffled under your blanket, but he pressed his hands against your shoulder and held you down.

“No. You’re staying right here.”

“But - ”

“No.”

“Hmm. Don’t leave me, Tommy.”

“Never.” He said, his tone firm and cast like stone. He stroked your hair softly as your breathing slowed, but it didn’t nothing to quell the hard thump of his heart in his chest.

——————————-

Tommy left the room as quietly as he could after you had fallen asleep in his arms. He hadn’t wanted to move, not when you were pressed against his chest, looking ethereal but vacant, sweat beading under your brow and your face lacking colour. He wanted to stay with you, curled up by his side, his fingers laced through yours, the sound of your heart thumping in his ears.

But he was a man of action, and seeing you there - your lips cracked and dry, shudders passing through your body and goosebumps raised over your skin - he couldn’t fight the fiery urge to do everything in his power to make you feel alright again.

He found Mary waiting outside the door, chewing on the skin of her lips and swaying on the balls of her feet in anticipation. He grabbed her by the arm, harder than he meant to and something he would apologise for later, and pulled her downstairs, determined to let you rest whilst he got some answers. As soon as they reached the drawing room he spun her around, clenching his jaw and pointing a finger at the anxious maid.

“Where the fuck is the doctor? Why isn’t he here?”

“Mr Shelby.” She said, stepping forward calmly. “We phoned Doctor Moore and he came on Tuesday to see her.”

“Tuesday?” He seethed. “My wife has been ill since Tuesday and no one called me?”

Mary raised her hands in defeat, making it clear that the decision wasn’t hers to make. “He said it was nothing of concern . He gave her some antibiotics and told her to rest. She asked us herself not to call you, she knows how you.. worry.”

He ignored her sugar coated attempt to quell his anger, but if anything it made his vision darken. “When it’s my wife, It is always my concern.”

“Mr Shelby, we were just doing what we were told. As soon as we noticed she wasn’t getting better we phoned the surgery again, but Doctor Thomas was out for the day and said he didn’t think it was necessary to come round again, so we -”

“I don’t give a fuck. My wife is the number one priority. Ring every doctor in England if you have to, get somebody out here now to see my wife.”

He stormed away, anger pulsating through his veins, but he stopped suddenly, and threw out over his shoulder:

“And call Doctor Moore’s ’office. Tell him to expect a visit from the blinders soon.”

———————————————————

Once, when you were first dating, you found Tommy at the door to your flat at midnight, with scraped knuckles and blood dripping from his nose. You let him in, cleaned him up and sat with him in the bath until his skin was clear and his breathing was even. He knew that night, as you were pressed against his chest and his lips were pressed to your scalp that he was truly, madly and completely in love with you.

He remembered waking up the next morning, love drunk and blissful, and finding the bed beside him empty. He found you in the kitchen, wincing slightly and pressing a hot water bottle to your belly as you buttered a few pieces of toast. He rushed to your side with eyes as wide as saucers, concern lacing the features that were usually ice cold and hard as stone. You were completely baffled as he held you at arms length, his bright cerulean eyes trailing up and down your body for any signs of injury he might have missed. You were bewildered at the sight of the powerful man practically on his knees as he made sure you were alright, and you bit back a giggle as his warm palms spread over your abdomen.

“What is it? Whats wrong?”

“Tommy. Sweetheart.” You said softly, bringing his gaze level to yours. “It’s just - you know - that time of the month.”

He brushed off your embarrassment and ran his fingers through your hair, pressing a uncharacteristically gentle kiss to your forehead, sending a swarm of butterflies around the pain in your stomach.

“Do you need anything?” He asked, half ready to run down to the corner shop and buy any amount of painkillers or chocolate bars or your favourite lavender tea that you might need; not caring who saw the seemingly terrifying gang leader in the street with an armful of strawberry laces and salt water fudges.

You smiled like the summer sun and he melted, pulling you close as you whispered in the shell of his ear that you only needed him, and that was all you ever needed.

That was the first time you fully saw the extent of Tommy’s fear, but it definitely wasn’t the last. He knew he wanted you forever and always, and it took only six months of neck kisses and pillow talk, red hot jealousy and possessive hands across your skin and dancing in the rain and falling asleep under the pale yellow moon for him to put a ring on your finger. You were both consumed by your love, as though it was the only thing that mattered, it was insatiable and powerful - the wonderful mix of the devil and his sweet little angel.

And with that, came the good and the bad.

Like when you got food poisoning after Arthur cooked you a Sunday lunch to cheer you up whilst Tommy was gone. He came home to you retching over the toilet bowl with Mary holding back your hair, and swore that he would kill his brother with his own hands. Or when you slipped on ice and broke your arm while out with friends in London, and Tommy went ballistic and tried to ban you from ever leaving the house. It was just in his nature, how he always made sure you walked on the side furthest from the road, kept an arm slung around you whenever you were together, kept his eyes alert and vigilant no matter where you were - always looking out for his girl.

But he had never been like this.

———————————————————-

You were falling in and out of sleep. Waking up drowsy and heavy headed, squinting under bright lights, an ache in your skull and a burning in your throat. Every so often you felt a pinch in your upper arm, a squeeze on your palm, a kiss on your forehead - but you always drifted back into unconsciousness.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed when you woke up. The room was dark and you could hear the wind howling and whipping rain across the windows. You felt all too hot and all too cold at the same time, and the bed was damp with sweat. You struggled and tried to sit up, your head swaying and feeling as heavy as one of Tommy’s marble statues; as if you had been carved up and moulded. You could hear voices out in the hall, and unsteadily got to your feet, moving towards the noises.

“Pneumonia?” You heard through the thick wooden door, instantly recognising your husbands voice. “That’s impossible.”

“Sir...”

“Fucking. Impossible.” You knew his teeth were clenched.

The other man cleared his throat.“I know that it’s hard to hear, Mr Shelby, but your wife is very sick.”

“Just...” You felt your heart flutter and clench in your chest as the sound of his broken words, could practically feel his desperation and you wanted nothing more than to hold him. “Just tell me how to make her better.”

The second man spoke again, his voice softening and lowering, something you knew Tommy would hate. “Mr Shelby, the first round of antibiotics didn’t work and that means that it’s time for something stronger. Usually I would suggest the Birmingham hospital but I don’t think it’s equipped for...” He paused, trying to think over his words carefully. He wanted to convey the severity of the situation but also didn’t want to risk getting a bullet in his head from your very protective husband. “...This kind of reaction. I recommend we send her down to London for extra testing.”

“London? That’ll take two fucking hours. How the fuck can you recommend letting my wife travel that far? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“I’m my opinion this is the wisest choice to make, but unfortunately that could mean your wife might get worse before she gets better.”

“Worse than she already is? That’s not an option.”

The man you assumed was the doctor was insistent, trying his best to portray the severity of the situation but failing as your hardheaded husband had already come to a decision.

“I’ll look after her here. She’s safest with me.”

Once Tommy had spoken that was the final result, and the doctor slinked away into the darkness and shook his head. You remained peering from behind the door, your tongue between your teeth and your heart hammering.

Tommy took one look at you and frowned, scooping you in his arms like a baby despite your protests. He ignored you, acting playfully and cheerful but you could feel his heated skin and the see flare of his nostrils. You wanted to help him but didn’t know how, and let him tuck you under the covers once again. He kissed your crown and stroked your hair and you wanted to speak but no words would leave your mouth.

“You stay there this time. You know I have no problem with tying you to the bed.”

You rolled your eyes as he left, and his clenched fists and tightened shoulders told you all you needed to know.

————————————————-

Comet watched from his spot beside you as Tommy wrestled with the fire. He had noticed you shivering despite your high temperature, and bundled you up in blankets whilst sparking matches beside the fireplace. There were raindrops across his shoulders, evidence that he had been outside and to the log store right at the end of the property - a job that had always been for the Groundskeeper. Your precious cat nudged the tips of your fingers as you sighed and watched your husband throw kindling onto the coal, a deep unease settling over your gut.

“Tommy, my love, I’m fine.” It wasn’t exactly true but you felt he needed to hear it. But you could practically see your words wash over him and evaporate like ocean spray.

He was shaking a metal tin in his palm as he worked, and you groaned and let your head hit the pillow as he pulled out two round chalky tablets. You winced as he placed them beside your glass, your mouth already tasting like the sour talc medicine you had come to loathe. He raised his eyebrows and shot you a look that told you he wasn’t far off plugging your nose with his fingers to force you to swallow, and you childishly stuck up two fingers as you took them.

Your stomach rumbled with nausea and you bit back the bile in your throat as you settled into the pillows. You watched your husband as he pulled off his crisp white shirt, revealing his taut tan stomach and the deep ink tattoos that you loved to trace with your fingertips and your lips. There was something about him standing there, with those damn cerulean eyes and hidden muscles, that boyish hair and slender fingers that you wanted desperately around your throat, that made a million tiny fireworks spark inside of you.

But instead you pushed him away from you despite your body wanting nothing but him wrapped all around you. “Don’t get too close. I might have something contagious. I can’t have you getting sick.”

He ignored you, smiling inwardly at the way you always put others before yourself. It was one of the million reasons he had fallen for you. You were sweating out a high fever and shivering in pain, and yet you always thought of him first. He pressed his lips to your temple and pulled you closer, knowing that skin to skin was a way to bring down a fever - even if it meant he had to restrain himself from tugging off your pretty little white nightgown and whatever frilly things you had on underneath.

“I’m not going anywhere. Fuck it if I catch anything.”

“That’s easy for you to say. I’m the one who will have to dote on you hand and foot, you big baby.” You teased, pressing yourself into him playfully, finally giving in.

He held you like a child, trying to hard to soften despite the way you felt underneath him. Everything on him was running a mile a minute, and he couldn’t help but want to try everything and everything to make you feel better. His hand was pressed against your temple to always try and measure your fever, his other palm across your chest to try and count your heart rate.

He could hear Mary treading across the landing carpet but he ignored his anxious maid, instead letting himself be completely consumed by the only thing that mattered - you.

This was something he had to do by himself. He was the only one who could care for you he reminded himself. And he let the words tumble over and over in his skull until they were all he could hear.

—————————————————————-

You had been asleep for a long time.

Every hour, after pacing the length of the hall and sanitising his hands and wiping the beads of sweat above your brow and above your breasts he woke you up and held a cool glass to your lips. You mumbled and moaned and pushed him away but he kept his fingers across your wrist - harsher than he ever had before - and kept you as close to him as possible.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had cooked. Perhaps it was last valentines when the two of you had camped out under the stars, drinking icy white wine and sharing stolen, day drunk kisses. That night he had roasted a chicken over the fire and it had burnt to a crisp as the two of you rolled around the grass, his head buried in your neck as you giggled at the poultry going up in flames.

He was trying now though, easy, plain substantial meals that wouldn’t upset your stomach. Boiled egg and dippy soldiers. Crackers with smooth cheese. Bubbly water and ginger biscuits. Each time he went upstairs you pushed him away, your whole body shuddering and almost retching, and he felt like smashing the plates against the wall at his defeat.

It had been almost thirty six hours since he had come home and it had been almost as long since you had eaten something, and his heart thundered and shattered in his chest when he found you gasping and wheezing over the toilet bowl when you had taken a bite of toast to calm him. He rarely left you alone, only for a few minutes to put the still full dishes in the sink, to ring Lizzie and tell her that he wouldn’t be coming for reasons that he refused to disclose, to smoke a cigarette under the grey stone archway, his shaking hands and bitten fingernails barely visible through the sleepy rolling fog.

He had grabbed handfuls of papers and the brass ink pen you had got him for your anniversary and broke his own rule - bringing work into your bedroom. It had always been a sacred space. For candlelight and soft laughter, aching hands and heart shaped bruises, a sanctuary for him to breathe and to love and to be loved fully in return. But he was afraid if he didn’t have a distraction, he might just completely lose it, and he had to be there for you.

So he sat squinting in his glasses, the room almost completely dark save for a few candles because of the migraines that had started to spread throughout your skull, and let himself be drawn into the mess of squiggly lines and numbers that suddenly didn’t add up, with you still centre stage in his peripheral.

After about forty minutes of rereading the same sentence a dozen times to try and make some sense of it, he heard your voice, like a small crack spreading across a sheet of ice, coming from the bed.

“Tom?” You sounded so weak, he practically flipped your cream vanity as he got to his feet and darted towards you. “I don’t feel well.”

He lifted you as you reached your arms up at him like a child. He almost gasped at the sweat pouring from your body but didn’t want to scare you, and instead held your shaking, shivering body against his own. How could you be so hot, yet so cold at the same time? Your skin was prickled with goosebumps yet you were burning with a fever, and for the first time in a long time, he had no fucking idea what to do.

He left you propped up against the headboard and he entered the bathroom. He ran over to the claw foot tub you loved, twisting the faucet and trying to find the perfect medium between boiling hot and freezing cold. He didn’t want to overwhelm you, just try and soothe your raging fever, and he ignored the shelves of expensive bath oils and scented soaps that you coveted, instead opting for a handful of something meant to ease tension - praying to whoever was listening that it would help you somehow.

There was a brutal, awful moment as he lifted you from the bed, limp as a rag doll, where he imagined what would happen if your heart were to stop. He couldn’t comprehend what it would be like to miss the weight of you in his arms, the smell of your skin, the feeling of your lips against him, the shovels stopping and fading into nothing. It hit him square in the chest, as merciless as a bullet, and he had to lean against the doorframe to stop the two of you from plummeting to the ground.

He undressed himself first. Tugging his white shirt off, sliding off his slacks and his underwear, keeping you as close to his chest as he could. Then he pulled your nightgown up and over your head. He gathered your hair and secured it up with a claw clip so that it was away from your face, the heat radiating off your neck as fierce as the fire now burnt down to ash in the bedroom.

He lowered the two of you into the bath, sinking down beneath the eucalyptus smelling lukewarm water, letting it wash over you both. Your teeth were chattering and you were barely awake. He gathered handfuls of water, letting it drip over your shoulders and pulse points, grabbing a washcloth and running it over your raised skin, hating how you barely registered his touch. As he scrubbed over your collarbones and up to your face he saw your lips had turned to an awful, silvery blue, as vibrant as a fresh bruise. He hissed and tugged on the plug, now determined to get you wrapped up in a fresh towel and tucked back into bed.

You were soft and placid and he helped you out, lacking the usual fire that he adored. Your eyes were glassy and missing their vibrance, like the vanishing spark of a lighter - and he felt miles and miles of invisible distance between the two of you. You were unsteady on your feet and he used his body to prop you up as he warmed your arms with a fluffy white towel. You suddenly stopped, lifting your hand to your mouth as you started to cough - a horrible, dry, gasping cough.

He noticed it almost immediately. His eyes darting to the splatter of red against the white, a smudge of crimson that was as loud and commanding as a siren, a warning signal that something was definitely not right. A bead of scarlet that would linger long behind his closed eyelids.

He managed to get you back into bed, remaining calm as he stroked your hair and kissed your temple. He tucked you under the duvet and waited for your breathing to even before he ran downstairs, his heart thumping in his ears as he practically ripped the phone off of the wall.

“Pol? Fuck. I think - I think I need help.”

—————————————————————-

The room smelt like bleach and metal. Unfamiliar and clinical. There was something hard on your chest and covering your mouth, it tasted like wet pennies and was as heavy as a hand over your throat, but for the first time in days you could finally breathe. You tried to sit up, but there was a needle in your chest, a gown you didn’t recognise cut straight down the middle to accommodate it. You struggled and lifted the thin bedsheet above your shivering torso, trying to look around the cold room.

“Careful!”

It was Polly, dressed immaculately despite her surroundings. She reached out and placed a manicured hand across yours, and you smiled at the woman who had always been a calming influence when you had joined the circus of a family. There was concern in her eyes, rimmed with black eyeliner and lifted lashes but still swimming deep around her pupils. That made you frown, and you moved as much as you could to face her.

“What happened?”

She ran her tongue over her teeth, choosing her words. “You gave us quite a fright, love.”

“I did?” Your memories of the past few days were much like a fever dream, blurry and distorted snapshots were all you could really remember.

“Your pneumonia got worse. A lot worse.” She paused, looking over to the door and you followed her gaze. “They found fluid in your lungs.”

“So...” You started, gesturing to the needle in your abdomen and the breathing apparatus around your head.

She nodded. “Yes. You were in surgery. It was touch and go for a little bit.”

“Really?” You were bewildered. You couldn’t remember anything, let alone having major surgery. You looked her straight in the eye, asking her the questions that had been on the tip of your tongue since you had woken up. “Where is he? Where’s Tommy?”

“He’s outside.” She clicked her tongue, reaching deep into her purse and pulling out some hand cream, gently rubbing your dry hands like she was your mother. You leant into her touch despite all of your questions.

“What? Why?”

“I think he blames himself. God knows what goes on in that mans head. All I really know is he was bloody terrified.” She paused, looking over in the distance. “I’ve never seen him so scared, not even on his wedding day.” She smiled sadly, trying to lighten the mood, but it soon faded. “He didn’t leave your side the whole time you were asleep.”

Your heart thumped in your chest, a soft aching that you knew all too well. “I want to see him.”

“I know you do. But right now...” She stopped right as a handful of nurses entered, clad in long blue dresses with white aprons, hair tied back and smelling of strong soap and disinfectant. You lost Polly in the bustle as one spoke softly to you before tugging on the needle right beside your ribs, your eyes just catching hers as she left, a promise to see you soon on her lips.

It wasn’t her you saw next, but Tommy.

The nurses had cleaned you up with wet flannels and bowls of warm soapy water. Your hair had been braided and your face washed, and walked you arm in arm over to the bathroom so you could relieve yourself. A skittish doctor followed after, his eyes darting across you and his touch gentle as he changed your dressings and took your blood - obviously under strict instructions from your husband, and despite everything, you smiled.

You were sat listening to the clock tick. A romance novel you had been given was dangling dangerously close to the end of the bed, but you were too tired to focus on it. You heard the door squeal softly, and the sound of familiar footsteps across the tiling, each small thud sending shockwaves across your spine.

“Tommy.”

He looked tired. Exhausted rather, as though he had been awake all the hours that you had been asleep. His eyes were bloodshot and his skin was sallow and bruised. His clean shaven face was dark with stubble and his hair was ruffled and unwashed. You longed to reach out to him and cradle him against you, but he stood in the doorway, lingering like a ghost.

“Tommy?” You repeated, your voice almost a whisper, breaking his already shattered heart once again.

“How are you feeling, my love?”

You smiled softly, like spun sugar and sweet honey. No hospital bed or itchy gown could dull your infectious light. “Better now.”

He approached you almost cautiously. He settled down on the hard chair beside your bed and stroked a line down from your temple to your lips, his touch setting you alight like an electrical storm. There was a sadness in his eyes that reminded you of how he got when things were bad, and you willed him to come back to you. His touch was tentative and he inhaled shakily as you cupped his hand with yours, pressing a tender kiss to the inside of his palm.

“Don’t scare me like that. Ever.” He was stern, as though hoping his words would make it true. “I mean it.” He kept his gaze on your pretty face, trying his best not to stare at the harsh bruising on your delicate flesh or the sickly tone of your skin.

“Tommy I’m going to get sick, even you can’t stop that.” You teased gently.

“I can bloody well try.” His hands cradled your face, pulling you into him and kissing you fiercely, still mindful of the wires and tubes taped to your body. There was something about the tenderness and deep longing in the kiss that when mixed with your total exhaustion and love for your husband prompted tears to start falling from your eyes. You sniffled as he pulled away, concern dripping from his beautiful features, his powerful mind wanting to do everything and anything to stop your hurting.

“Hey, hey.” He said, running his calloused fingertips under your eyes and wiping your tears away. You leant into his touch and he kissed your temple, squeezing you even tighter into him. “You know I hate it when you cry.” He toyed with your hair and winked playfully. “Besides, all you need to focus on is getting better. You’re going to have to take care of me when we get home, this week has given me a fucking stroke.”

You rolled your eyes, kissing the inside of his wrist. “You’re a idiot, Thomas Shelby.” You blinked at the clock looming above you both, wanting to stay in your blissful bubble but also knowing that Aunt Pol would probably be in the vicinity harassing a poor nurse over your results. “You should go and find Polly, let her know that everything’s alright.”

He shook his head and nuzzled his nose across yours, an act so innocent that your heart dipped and swooped in your chest. “Later.” He said, breathless and consumed by you. Everything had been too much. Almost losing you had been harrowing, it had punctured him completely and he just needed to feel his girl safe and warm around him. He needed to know that you weren’t found anywhere.

“I just want to stay here for a while. Just me and you.”

You grinned. “Always.”

#tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders oneshot #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby oneshot

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bucksfucks · 3 years

Text

amorosa // steve rogers

chapter four: paparazzi

chapter one // chapter two // chapter three

chapter four // chapter five

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

main masterlist

summary || one eviction notice later, steve moves you into his apartment. but as you start spending more time with him, the public starts to take notice as well. steve does his best to reassure you, an upcoming trip soon taking over your thoughts.

pairing || sugar daddy!steve x reader

word count || 2,037 words

warnings || financial struggles, sugar daddy dynamics, undefined age gap, steve fingers you while driving, praise kink, heavy daddy kink, jealous steve — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

It had been a few weeks, but you'll never get used to waking up in Steve's house.

The early morning light flitted through the heavy, but expensive drapes that hung above Steve's large windows. You couldn't hear anything but chirping birds outside, unlike the usual bustling streetcars and horns of eager taxicabs outside your apartment.

It was relaxing as you ran your fingers up Steve's large, muscled arm. He stirred, nose scrunching as his eyes slowly opened. It was the first time you'd seen Steve in a different light, literally and metaphorically.

He was dressed down, nothing but boxers instead of his clean fitted suits. His hair was messy and mused, not styled back like it usually was. Steve looked relaxed and calm, the lines between his eyebrows soft.

"I like seeing you like this; relaxed." You muttered, eyes tracing up his body until they met yours. He chuckled, low and deep and still obviously laced with sleep as he turned his body until he was supporting his head with a propped elbow.

"It's all thanks to you, Princess." He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead before throwing the covers off of his body.

It's hard not to look, hard to keep your eyes off of his half-hard cock as he pulls on a pair of boxers that makes you pout. He laughs, it rumbles through his chest like thunder as you bite your lip.

"You are an insatiable little minx, now aren't you?" He smirks, coming over to your side of the bed as you look up at him, "can you blame me?" You retort, a smirk of your own stretched across your lips as Steve runs his hand to cup your jaw.

"Not at all, Princess," he hums, thumb running over your lips before he's turning around to grab some more clothing. You sigh, realizing that the lazy day you so desperately needed wasn't possible.

You had to work tonight, another Thursday evening meant that you'd be running around, waiting on sleazy men and be back home at three, almost four in the morning.

You sighed.

"What's wrong, buttercup?" Steve's voice was gentle and caring as he pulled over a plain tee, pairing it with flannel sleep pants. He looked like your average, normal guy who liked to unwind after a long day by watching football and drinking a beer.

"Nothing, I'm just not looking forward to going into work tonight," you chuckled, pulling on a pair of his boxers and his shirt from last night.

Steve stopped what he was doing, cocking his head to the side as he gave you a confused look.

"What?" You asked, tucking your hair behind your shoulders.

"Well I had just assumed that you, well that you quit your job already." He said as you balanced on the balls of your feet. You shrugged your shoulders, "keeps me busy."

Steve scoffed, "if you wanna keep busy I'll set you up at my office. I don't want you goin' to work just to get hit on by people who wish they were me." Steve said confidently as you gnawed on the inside of your cheek.

"None of them are even close to being anywhere near good enough for you anyways." He grumbled and you giggled, "are you jealous, Daddy?" You purred, watching the way a faint blush caked Steve's face.

"I'm not jealous," he grumbled, sounding like a petulant child as you walked over to wrap your hands around his torso. He rested his chin on the top of your head, his steady heartbeat echoing through his chest.

"I think you are," you egged him on, pushing his button as you heard him scoff.

"Quit your job so I can take you shopping today and spoil you like the princess you are." He almost begged as you mulled over his words. There was a voice in the back of your head saying that it wasn't a good idea, that if this arrangement doesn't work out, you'll be broke and jobless all over again.

But standing in Steve's arms made you feel so warm and cared for, those worries slowly disappearing as he placed a sweet kiss on your lips, "please?"

You didn't need much convincing after that.

"Alright, but can we stop by my place so I can wear something that isn't a bodycon dress." You chuckled as he nodded, "anything for my girl."

You sent a half-assed email to your boss in the car on the way back to your place. The car that Steve was driving as his hand was resting on your thigh, just a little higher than it usually was.

"Steve," you whined, wiggling in your seat as he shot you a look, "Daddy," you corrected yourself quickly before he hummed approvingly.

"What's got you so squirmy, huh?" He teased as you glared at him, "you know why." You whined again as he crept his fingers under your dress. You didn't exactly have anything else to wear and it's not like Steve's clothes were an ideal fit.

"Oh, do I?" He smirked, one hand on the wheel as the other was now slowly circling your clit as you held back a moan.

Your panties were well, somewhere in the bathroom of the fancy restaurant you were in last night after Steve had ripped them in two.

"Is my little girl wet already? The thought of her Daddy finger fuckin' her in the car too much?" He taunts, fingers gliding through your folds as you bite down on your lip, nodding your head.

"Yeah," it's faint and hoarse as you slowly let your legs fall open for him. The car comes to a halt at a red light, Steve's eyes on your as his middle finger teases your entrance.

"You gonna let Daddy fuck you while driving, hmm?" He asks with a sinister smirk on his lips as your hand wraps around his thick wrist, trying to guide him to where you need him.

"Uh uh, use your words, Princess." He tsks, the car starting to move again as he focuses his eyes back on the road.

"Please Daddy, want your fingers so bad." You beg, mewling when you feel one finger slowly slip inside of you. A second finger is added not long after, your head against the seat as his palm bumps your clit.

"Good girl, takin' my fingers so well. Can feel you squeezin' my fingers already," Steve groans, trying his best to focus on the road in front of him.

You're trying your best to control yourself, but the way he's curling his fingers deep inside of you makes it nearly impossible.

"Don't be shy for me, Princess, you know how much I love hearin' you." Steve cooes, the encouragement enough to let out a repressed moan as his fingers caress your walls.

Another red light allows Steve to give attention to your clit before his fingers are back deep inside of you, curling as your toes start to curl.

"Cum for Daddy, Princess, cum all over my hands. Make a mess." He growls before your body is seizing as you cum around his fingers, a strangled moan leaving your lips.

Your breathing is ragged, your window slightly foggy as he slowly slips his fingers out of you and into his mouth.

"Mmm, this is better than any breakfast." He hums, licking his hands clean as you're still trying to collect yourself, dizzy and weightless before Steve's hand is back on your thigh.

"Good girl," he praises, patting your thigh before you're pulling up to your old apartment.

Dressed in a pair of jeans and a simple shirt you feel much more comfortable as you're grabbing random toiletries and pieces of clothing into an overnight bag.

"Princess?" Steve's voice pulls you out of your hectic actions, "yeah?" You say, meeting his gaze as you see him holding a piece of paper, a concerned look on his face.

"What's this all about?" He asks as you realize it was the eviction notice in his hands. You swallow thickly, dropping your bag onto your bed as you shrug your shoulders.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" His voice is soft, but you cast your head down either way, shrugging your shoulders, "I didn't want you to worry."

Steve steps closer to you, tilting your chin upwards so you're looking at him, "that's my job now, Princess," he chuckles as you give him a small smile.

"You're moving in with me. Now c'mon let's go shopping." His words leave you stunned as he takes the notice, putting it into his back pocket.

"Are you serious?" You blurt as Steve turns around, "dead serious, buttercup. You can redecorate however you'd like." He adds as your heart flips in your chest. You nod your head, linking your fingers with his as you press your lips to his cheek.

With his fingers in yours, the weight of his hand makes you feel more at ease as you take one last look at your dreaded apartment. You won’t miss it.

Your phone buzzed, a text from Simoné as you quickly opened it. The little text bubble was still there as you narrowed your eyes at the pictures she had sent you.

When were you gonna tell me that you're dating the Steve Rogers????

Her text made your stomach flip as you realized you were looking at paparazzied photos of you and Steve shopping, his arm around yours as you read the headlines. They made your stomach churn, cringing at their words right as Steve walked into the bedroom.

"What's wrong, buttercup?" He asked, making his way to you as you furrowed your eyebrows. You didn't say anything, you simply handed your cracked phone over to him as he looked over what was on the screen.

He sighed, locking it and placing it on the nearby bedside table before scooping you into his lap.

"They're just feeding into rumours, you know that." He whispered against your head before you lifted it to look up at him. He gave you a sympathetic smile before pressing a soft kiss to your nose.

The headline kept playing itself over in your head.

Notorious playboy Steve Rogers finally settling down? Or is this just another conquest?

You hated how much it affected you, but… was this too good to be true?

"Am I?" You squeaked against Steve's chest as he looked at you confused. "Are you what?" He asked as you, cupping your face in his hands so you'd have nowhere to look but him.

You chewed on your bottom lip before answering him, "just another conquest?"

Steve looked at you with sincere eyes, pressing his lips to yours sweetly and you couldn't help but lean into him as he moulded his mouth against yours.

"Those are just headlines, there's nothing true about them. I'll be taking care of them anyways." He says sternly, the sudden tone shift causing you to remember just how powerful Steve truly was. It was exciting.

"Now pack your bags, Princess, we've got a trip to go on." Steve beamed as you climbed off his lap, eyes wide with excitement, "a trip?" You asked as he stood up, chuckling.

"We're goin' to France, buttercup. I've got a business meeting with a partner there, but after that I'm all yours." He murmurs as he boops your nose lightly.

"Oh and I have one more surprise for you," he hums, going over to his dresser, pulling it open before turning around and hiding whatever was in his hand behind his back.

He revealed, the box smooth as you gasped at the new phone.

"I can't have my best girl not having the absolute best thing," he smiled, handing it to you as you took it from his hands. "It's already set up, all you have to do is pick out a case for it." He smirked, as you jumped up to wrap your arms around his neck.

"Thank you, Daddy," you mumbled into his chest as he laughed, hugging his arms around you.

"Don't thank me, I love bein' able to take care of you, okay? Now let's get packing, the private jet leaves first thing in the morning."

any and all feedback is always appreciated! <3

#steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader smut #sugar daddy!steve #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers headcanons #steve rogers series #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers au

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positivityfortoday · 3 years

Text

☀ PositivityForToday’s 10K Celebration ☀

There are SO many things worth living for and reasons to smile and be happy! With the help of my lovely followers/friends, I have compiled a list of 1,000 things that make people happy, for my 10,000 amazing followers! Hopefully, this list is able to help you, make you feel better, or give you a reason to smile today!

☀ 1,000 Happy Things ☀

Seeing cows while driving

Moss on really old fallen trees

Seeing a lil baby you don't know in public, and they smile at you!!!

Parents doing their kids hair or just people doing someone they care about’s hair

Really ragged old and well-loved stuffed animals

When the dandelions start blooming

Spring blossom

Daffodils

Bluebells

Sharks

When you're sitting outside your house or something and people passing by wave and say hi

That feeling in the summer when you have your window open and you're listening to your favorite music

When someone does a hobby just because they enjoy it even if they aren't the best at it

Comfort shows and books

People speaking their native languages

When my brother gets something to eat and always gets me something he knows I like

When I finish a crossword

When I see something that reminds me of someone I care about

Paintings

My best friend (I love her so much shhhh don't tell her)

My dog! I love him

My little sisters! Adorable, creative, and very witty. I love them

Music! I get the happy shaky feelings and just,,, y e a h/listening to songs

Singing! Especially for band practice!

Sunlight beams in the morning

The moon

Eagles

That feeling when you’re with friends and you’re all laughing so loudly, and you just feel complete

Talking to my favorite people/talking to my best friend

Sunrises and sunsets

Seeing the stars

Cats

Butterflies/Moths

Snails

Warm sunshine

Purple gel pens

Hugs

My children

Sunny days

Beautiful views

Spending time with my family and friends

Playing badminton

Cycling

Playing with little kids

Playing with dogs

Whales

Animals doing daft things

Talks and walks with my son

Morning breakfast and coffee

A good spicy lunch

Laying in my bed at night and just checking on current affairs and news

My boyfriend

My friends

Art

Owls

Minecraft

Voice acting

Petting my dog

Smelling Flowers

Feeling a cold thing when I’m warm or a warm thing when I’m cold

Giving and getting kisses

Random texts from friends

Coffee flavored chocolate

Singing

Moths with big white wings

Underdone scrambled eggs

A rainy night

Bubbles

That first warm day of spring

Going on hikes

Being outdoors

Candy

Chocolate

The smell of playdoh

Taking photos

Getting new clothing

Candles

Birdwatching

Going on picnics

Writing poetry

Reading books

The holidays

Making people smile/laugh

Coffee

A nice warm blanket

Eating ice cream

Snow globes

Lightning bugs

Flowers after the snow melts

The smell of rain

Sitting on the steps early in the morning

Being the first to wake up

The feeling I get after running

The comfort of a favorite shirt

My girlfriend

Family

Random acts of kindness

Babies

When I play with my dog by pretending to run at her and she goes crazy with excitement

My cat

Rain

Baking

Piano (playing or listening)

Small flowers

Flowy skirts/dresses

Wholesome romances

Hearing a song for the first time and loving it immediately

Playing my flute

Horses

Listening to vinyls on a record player

When someone remembers a little detail about you

Painting my nails

Doing yoga

Doing exercise

Beating a personal record

Rainbows

Making crafts

Taking a shower after a long day

Going to the zoo

Going on vacation

Being at the beach or near water

Watching Netflix

Going to the movie theatre

Watching a live play at a theatre

Learning something new

Teaching someone how to do something

Toasting marshmallows and eating S’mores

Cupcakes

Seeing a shooting star

Taking a nap

When someone compliments me

Decorating my room

Picnics

My favorite band

My favorite celebrities

My favorite actors

Setting a new goal

Collecting rocks

Putting on fresh clean sheets

Seeing Christmas lights

Listening to birds chirping

Giraffes

Camping

Sitting by a bonfire

Eating mashed potatoes

Bullet journaling

Driving in the car with the windows down

Dancing

Looking at pretty pictures

Concerts

Funny jokes/puns/memes

Fireworks

Sparklers

Pretty clouds

My favorite shoes

Getting new art supplies

Making photo edits

Making gifts for my friends and family

Getting gifts from people

Balloons

Succulents

Playing an instrument

Drinking a nice cup of tea

Iced tea on a summer day

Eating fresh fruit

Getting my hair braided

Eating at a restaurant

Being on a boat

Swimming

Making new friends

Finding an animal in nature

Pumpkins and pumpkin patches

Carving pumpkins

Autumn and all the beautiful colors

Acting for theatre

Making video edits

Wearing a costume for Halloween

Dressing fancy

Finding four leaf clovers

Pressing flowers

Scrap booking

Handwritten letters

Stickers

Hummingbirds

Elephants

Eating breakfast

Gardens

Inspirational quotes

Wearing my favorite necklace

Baby animals

Little streams and ponds

Foxes

Sun shining through trees

When it’s foggy out and you can see dew drops on plants and spider webs

Being on a swing

Finally accomplishing a goal you’ve been working on

When a new season of your favorite show comes out

Doing my makeup

Cleaning and organizing

Daydreaming

Taking a bath

Christmas

Watching funny videos

Wearing sweaters and hoodies

Fuzzy socks

Helping people

Little figurines and objects

Popcorn

Brownies

Looking out the window

Wolves

Opening a window for fresh air

The smell of coffee

Watching YouTube videos

Getting a haircut

Seeing a deer in the woods

Watching birds fly

Finding shapes and objects in the clouds

The smell of fresh laundry

When someone tells me something reminded them of me

Stepping on crunchy leaves

Animal crossing

My switch

Softball/baseball

Basketball

Soccer

Seeing cool cars/old cars

Rollerblading

Drawing with chalk on a sidewalk

Going to bed early

Stargazing

Making progress

Checking things off my to-do list

Taking Polaroid pictures

Going for walks

Jogging

Going to the library

Starting a new book

Finishing a good book

Playing board games

Koalas

Slippers

Big trees

Sunlight coming through the windows

Waking up on Christmas morning

Getting book, song, movie, etc. recommendations from my friends

Making music playlists

Finally receiving packages I ordered in the mail

Baking desserts

When my favorite song comes on

When people make playlists for each other

Finding new characters to ship

Having free time

Sticky notes

Sunbathing

Traveling

Peace and quietness

Alone time

Meeting my step/exercise goal for the day

The people who love me

Soup

Coloring books

Getting into bed after a long day

Pillows

Fandoms

How unique and different everyone is

Getting a lot of work done

Looking forward to my future dream job

Playing video games

Being on Tumblr

Taking time for myself

Practicing self-care

Face masks

Finding money you forgot about

Holding hands

The smell of apple pie

Starting a new tv show

Getting letters in the mail

When the seasons change

Summer

Mugs and teacups

Smoothies

Breakfast food

Disney

Going into the woods/forest

Trying new creative outlets

The smell of sunscreen

Eating the food you’ve been craving

Knowing and feeling that people care

Telling a good story

Laughing so hard can’t stop and your stomach hurts

Late summer nights

Late night drives

Sparkles

Glitter

Listening to people I love talk about their favorite things and what they’re passionate about

Listening to podcasts

Turning up the volume of my music

Putting my headphones in

Blasting my favorite songs through my speaker

People accepting and supporting others for who they truly are

Wearing something cozy

Soft light

Love

Warm weather

A well-rested night

Waking up in the morning and feeling refreshed

Knowing that every day is a fresh start

Well written characters

A book I can get lost in

Sloths

My parents

My siblings

My grandparents

The feeling of sand beneath your feet

Heated blankets

Bagels

Toast

Getting something for free

Samples

Constellations

Mason jars

Practicing a new skill

Finding a new hobby

Lazy weekends

Mac n cheese

French fries

Having deep conversations with my best friend

New jeans

Going to IKEA

Skirts

Dresses

Doodling

When other people are happy (especially people I know and love)

Marching band

Sleeping in

Having the day off

Getting new books

Playing guitar

Playing ukulele

Random compliments

A change of scenery

Cuddling

Waking before the sun is up

Reading old letters

Zebras

Exploring

Building Lego sets

Using photoshop to make edits

Journaling

Walking along the seafront and breathing in time with the waves

A good rom-com or nostalgic show

Writing lists

Pinterest boards

Looking back at my accomplishments

Talking on the phone with a friend or family member

Wrapping presents

A blue sky

Loving someone

Waterfalls

Washi tape

Penguins

Donuts

The color yellow

Sleepovers

Cooking dinner

Kind gestures

Trust

Inside jokes

Songs that make you feel nostalgic

Seeing other people’s art

Comfy clothes

Wearing pajamas

Calligraphy

When someone calls you by your nickname

Going to Target

The first sunburn of the summer

Ramen noodles

Chinese food

Thrift shopping

Flower fields

Flowers growing in random places, like through a crack in the sidewalk

Writing

Sparkly snowflakes

When it snows on Christmas

Mixing paint colors together

Perfectly shaven legs

Puddles

The color red

Thunderstorms

The smell of flowers

The ocean

Adult sized onesies

Driving a golf cart

Fairytales

Cartoons

The color blue

Pasta

AO3

Crickets chirping

Seeing everyone’s houses decorated for the holidays, especially Christmas

Other people sharing what makes them happy

Monkeys

Being understood

When someone texts to make sure I got home safely

Iced coffee

Becoming better at communicating with others

Seeing a friend for the first time in a while

Good morning and good night texts

Drinking a cold glass of water

Deep conversations in the middle of the night

Collecting sea shells

Building blanket forts

Tan lines

Being under lots of blankets

Making better health and money choices

Getting chills from a song even after hearing it countless times

Liking how I look

Hot chocolate

Finding new music

Buying cute things

Wearing an outfit I really like

When someone tells you how glad they are to be your friend

Gardening

Watching raindrops race down a window

Trying new food

Finding exactly what I was looking for

Planning my future

Finding a song that perfectly fits my mood or describes how I’m feeling

Writing little notes to people

When someone tells me I did something good

Eating ice cream on a hot day

Making friends with animals

Going to football games

Seeing people genuinely interested in something

Snow days

The last day of school

Winter break

Spring break

Thanksgiving

New Year’s Eve

Turtles

Sitting outside on a cool summer day

Watching rain

Watching the ocean waves come in

Netflix binges

A new movie release I really want to watch

Driving with a window down for the first time in the spring

Taking a cruise

Giving helpful advice

Getting helpful advice

Doing a favor for someone who needs it

Someone referencing one of my fandoms or something I love out of no where

Learning and knowing stuff

Doing something physically challenging or scary

Listening to my bedroom fan while I fall asleep

Coming up with a new creative idea

Finding something I wanted at the store on sale for a good deal

Finishing all my assignments on time or even early

Hugging my dog

Taking my dog for a walk

Teaching my dog a new trick

When strangers stop to say hi to my dog

Listening to audiobooks

The weekend

Finding a new flavor of chapstick

Drinking Kool-Aid, it makes me feel so nostalgic

Watching nature shows on a weekend morning

Watching cartoon shows on a Sunday morning

A good TV show, most likely something I've watched before because that way I know it ends well

A good, delicious comfort meal on a Friday night by myself

A café in the city centre at noon when it's not filled with the morning rush or afternoon coffee breakers

The stars from my childhood bedroom because they're the brightest here

Listening to my favorite playlist really loud on a long road trip and singing to myself loudly in my car

Having an entire day to myself without interruptions from anyone

Opening the curtains first thing in the morning

A new jacket

Going to the cinema on a first release day because it's always super exciting and full of people anxious to see a movie they've been waiting for forever

Listening to live music

Riding roller coasters

Going to amusement parks

Lizards

Seahorses

Starfish

Eating fair food

Feeling an instrument vibrate when you’re playing it

Hearing my dog snore

When my dog dreams in his sleep

Wearing a new piece of clothing for the first time

Feeling the sun on you

Eyes in the sunlight

Seeing city lights

Singing in the shower at the top of my lungs

Looking at someone and them knowing exactly what they’re going to say

Laughing till you cry

Being under a blanket

Going to craft stores

Watching boats

The idea of traveling the world

When my dogs let me lay my head on them

Listening to an old song and having it bring back memories

Candy corn

Crazy socks

Quotes

Fall and the leaves changing color and the crisp feeling in the air

Making snowmen

Making gingerbread houses for Christmas

Making videos with family

Burning a candle

Booping a dog’s nose

Getting letters/notes from people; writing them

Snow globes

Dr. Pepper

Doc martens

Fortune cookies

Potatoes

Easter

Finishing something

Skipping rocks

Warm rain

When someone opens up to you

Finding the right words to say exactly what you wanted

Animal footprints

Eating outside

Fairy lights

The smell of a hotel

Windows

Meeting a new dog

Dolphins

Getting magazines in the mail

Being in the woods as the sun starts to rise and the animals wake up

Warm days

Adirondack chairs

A warm breeze

Clothes and blankets hanging outside to dry

Feeding birds

Aquariums

The color green

Tie dying things

Going to art museums

Going to science museums

New albums from my favorite artists

Seeing moss in nature

Finding cute little mushrooms

When a dog wags its tail a bunch and is excited to see me

Playing fetch with my dog

Obsessing over something and having someone to talk about it with

Going on a walk with my best friend and talking about life

Looking at old pictures and reminiscing on good memories

Reading a book that's so good your brain wants to read faster than it can

Laughing with friends about the weirdest things

Being appreciated for doing small things you wouldn't even have thought about yourself because it's something you *just do*

Being creative

Watching animals

A story I can't put down

Stretching

The moment when you listen to a new song/album by your favourite artist

When you're at a concert and anticipating the moment before the band comes out

When at a concert and they play your favourite song live

The moment when someone compliments your outfit

When you see someone wearing merch of something you like

Seeing the sunrise/sunset

Watching the sun rise out of the water or sink down into it as it’s setting

This ecstatic feeling in general when you're just living in the moment with people who love something as much as you do

Hugging my cat and smelling his fur

Listening to my music by myself and singing to it

Making edits I’m really proud of

Losing hours in a good book or fanfiction

Writing sentences that I actually like

My siblings and my parents when they're being chill and funny

Watching my favorite tv shows and movies and yelling about them into the void

Finding a new good song

Fresh out of the shower + fresh clean sheets feeling when you go to bed

When I come downstairs in the morning and my dog greets me right at the bottom step with her lil’ tail wagging

Knowing that if I ever needed someone to chat with, someone would be there to lend an ear

Tigers

Lions

When you shuffle your music and the exact song you want to hear plays

When all my family is around the outdoor fire on a summer’s evening

When my nieces and nephews give me squishy kid hugs

Being home alone and being able to cook or bake in the kitchen without disruption

Driving around with a friend in the evenings and just belting our favorite songs

Seaside walks

Disney World

Seeing live theatre

The sun shining on leaves and stone buildings

Dancing when I'm alone

Color-coordinating my outfit

Floating on my back in the sea

The smell of summer nights

The smell of winter mornings

Colorful things/environments

Bunnies

Walking along lakes/rivers/the sea

Spending time in nature

Taking care of my plants

Giving affection to my loved ones

Listening to other people's stories

Reading about people I've never met before or places I've never visited before (especially if they are now just a part of history)

Embroidering

Pandas

Swimming in a river or the sea

Stargazing (my favorite moments usually happen an hour before sunrise)

White-caged-bird

Feeling the breeze when I spin and my heartbeat when I dance for an hour at a time

All the wonderful smells of flowers and colours that nature has to offer

Sharing good laughter with someone

Feeling like I belong

Travelling and discovering new customs of different cultures

Hiking or foraging

That feeling when I'm approaching the end of a really good book and I let myself be engulfed by the fact that it's a unique experience, that I'll never experience as the first time again

Observing my local fauna

Petting and taking care of an animal (double the joy if it is friendly with strangers)

Drinking a good cup of honey tea

Finding a perfume that suits me

Eating something sweet

Enjoying a meal with others

Cat paws tapping on the floor

Dipping a biscuit into tea

Trying to catch leaves falling from the tree

Having sunlight hit your face when you’re napping

Objects that cast a rainbow when the sun shines through them

Seeing patterned shadows

Ambient mood lighting

Sleeping

Wearing jewelry

Cheese

Playing chess

Fresh air

Going somewhere new

My Mom’s cooking

Being inspired

When someone holding your hand rubs their thumb lovingly in circles

Picking strawberries

Otters

Painting the walls of my room

Wind chimes

Seeing that your favorite people are active online

Finally understanding something you were struggling with

The excitement you get when someone reblogs your writing or art

Getting a new notebook or journal

Appreciation

Validation

When someone tells you they love you and mean it

The smell of freshly baked bread

When my dog falls asleep on me

Making new online friends

Found family

Finishing cleaning my room

When someone lays their head on your shoulder

Doing something right on the first try

Finally sitting down after standing for a long time

Getting goosebumps from hearing or seeing something you love

Seeing a gorgeous view

Loving someone and them loving you back

Freshly baked gooey cookies

When a song comes on and everyone starts singing

When I’m out for a run and it’s hot and it starts raining. Nothing makes me feel more like a human than getting caught in the rain on a run

Swimming in the ocean

When people are talking about something they really love and get carried away trying to explain it all to you

Puppies

Being in the middle of nowhere and actually getting to see the whole sky of stars that you never get to see in a city

Finding people that love the same things you do

When something silly reminds you of someone you love; like every time I see an orange and green gummy worm I think of my sister

When you’re hugging someone and they squeeze you a little bit before they let go

Weather where you can leave all the windows open in your house

Trampolines

Driving with no destination in mind

Falling asleep to the sound of rain

Hearing other people laugh

Laughing only because you hear someone else laugh and it's just so contagious

The first snowfall of the year

Disney movies

Listening to someone tell stories and they have like 15 side stories in between the main one

Romantic movies

Bubble baths

Smiling between kisses

Wearing sweatpants

A clean house

Pizza

My computer

Cheesy pickup lines

When people tell me they miss me

Cool spring mornings after a storm

My job

Butterflies

New shoes

Oversized shoes

Caramel apples

Volunteering

Meditating

Running my blog

Finding sea glass at the beach

Getting my nails done

Planning vacation

Hot cider

Telling people I love them

Writing in my gratitude journal

Eating homegrown vegetables, fruit, and herbs

Remembering a good dream I had

Happy endings

Colored pens

Decorating for the holidays

Finishing a really good tv show

Leopards

Summer rain

Thunderstorms where I can just open my window to the full extent and just watch and listen

Calls with my best friend

Seeing a meme and sending it to my friends

Getting an email from AO3

That moment when you get an idea for creating something

Walking barefoot on the grass

Sending thank you notes

Writing events I’m looking forward to on my calendar

Dippin' Dots

Spicy food

Seeing a full moon

Eating cookie dough

Eating seasonal food

Bubble wrap

Going to the car wash and getting rainbow soap

Dark chocolate

Soft blankets

Weighted blankets

Soft drinks with crushed ice

When I get an unexpected phone call from someone I love

Wearing flip flops

Longer daylight hours

Having a BBQ

Frosting cookies

Making cupcakes in the microwave

Watching the Hallmark channel during the holidays

Taking selfies or photos with people I love

Putting on lotion

The smell of a baby’s head

The Office

Online shopping

The smell of freshly cut grass

Surprising my family or friends

Looking at the clock when it’s 11:11

Being productive

Quilts

Doing good on an exam

Someone doing a favor for me (especially when I didn’t ask)

Eating pancakes with syrup

Origami

Sprinkles

Confetti

Waving at people

Giving high fives

Complicated Handshakes between you and your best friend

Naps/feeling well-rested

Eating one of my favorite foods

Hearing good news from/about a friend or family member

Looking at nature (these days it's seeing squirrels in my neighbour's garden and looking at my plants and trees)

When make someone happy or feel like I made a difference (including a satisfied client)

Success (good grades, a gifset that does well)

Hugs from my mom

Learning new things

Chatting with my friends because they’re all amazing people

Group watches of my favorite tv show or movie

That feeling when the house has just been cleaned/when I’m freshly showered

Making jokes/laughing with people

Reading fluffy fanfics

Driving on the road to a destination far away, I love the trip as much as (if not more than) arriving at the actual place

Reading affirmations

Green tea

Getting breakfast or lunch from a nice restaurant

Learning about topics that won’t benefit me; like Chinese history, geography, ancient flora and fauna, etc. just things that I find cool

The jokes my girlfriend makes, especially when they’re the same ones she always makes

Stories from the past! Stories from history from people who actually lived through it

Stories in general, just hearing the life experiences of people in completely different positions from me. I love hearing people’s stories

Drawing intricate things, like old buildings, landscapes, and plants

Cooking a nice meal

Grocery shopping and farmers markets especially

My cat! All of her weird little habits too, like how she stands in front of my feet so I’ll push her where she wants to go

Botanical gardens

State parks

Museums

Art galleries

Listening to stories my grandparents tell

When people tell me about their life goals and dreams

Being surrounded by the people I love

Living the best life I can

Partying hard the night away

Daydreaming

Sunflowers always make me smile

Warm tea

Big fluffy clouds in a blue sky

Friendly babies

Hearing a past favorite song

Singing karaoke

Biking riding

Helping others

Chocolate milk

Sweets and fruits

Having fun doing things I love

Dragons

Video games

My favorite things

Writing

Affection

Exercising

Being on Tumblr

Looking at flowers and plants

Playing with my cats

Chatting with my friends (at the moment it’s through zoom, of course)

Finding new ways to decorate my room

Window shopping

Spending time with my boyfriend

Wearing my favorite outfit/accessory

Eating something delicious

The cool side of my pillow

Tears of joy

Woodpeckers

Reading poems

Hugging trees

Tree houses

Airstreams/campers

Playing frisbee

Making sculptures

Puppy ears

The first day of spring

The first day of summer

Sending silly photos to my friends

Building sand castles

Winning prizes at the fair or arcade

Marbles

Cacti

Scrolling through my phone

Writing fanfiction

Seeing someone you haven't seen for a really long time

Putting together collages

Printing out photos I love

DIY projects

Sewing

Crocheting

Listening to steel drums

Haunted houses

Going through a corn maze

Picking fresh fruit or vegetables

Bubble tea

Starbucks

Dunkin donuts

Disneyland

Disney Princesses

Climbing trees

Finishing errands

Rewatching my favorite episodes

Scrunchies

Milkshakes

Ice cream blizzards

Listening to acoustic versions of songs

Hot tubs

Rubber ducks

Coconut flavored food

Dipping fries in ice cream

Discovering a new type of animal

Seeing hot air balloons

Frogs/toads

Splashing in puddles

Having plants inside my house

Teddy bears

Iridescent/holographic things

Bird houses

Breakfast in bed

Crystals/gemstones

Ziplining

Dew drops

Glow sticks

Flower crowns (especially handmade ones)

Spring rain

Watching other people make art

Lighthouses

Finding heart shaped things in nature

Thinking of getting my own apartment

Coming up with a new recipe for food

Cookbook recipes passed down through families

Bookshelves

Making pretty yogurt bowls

Seaside houses

Flying on planes and being in/above the clouds

Flower bouquets

Looking at and learning about the planets

Fruit snacks

Palm trees

Weeping willow trees

Cherry blossoms

Eating cake

Decorating cakes with eccentric icing designs and colors

Whipped cream

Having snowball fights

Hearing Christmas music

Tattoos

Wearing rings

Green grass

A tidy organized desk with cute desk supplies

My craft room

Hammocks

Little cottages

Cotton candy (and cotton candy flavored things)

Looking at all the paint pallet colors in paint stores

Stamps

Taking silly photos in photobooths

Going to the mall

Making jam, especially strawberry jam

Reading outside

Finding a bird nest and watching eggs hatch

Looking at photos of my family and friends

Finding old flora and art books

Eating fresh corn on the cob with butter on a summer day

Lily Pads

Icicles

Inner peace

Sitting under a tree

Not having to turn on the light in your room when the sun is shining through

When restaurants have patios you can dine at

Fishing on a pier

Seeing old couples in public

Making gifs

Trees swaying in the wind

Anime

Dying Easter eggs

Laying in the trunk of a car and watching the clouds or stars

Night lights

Flower shops

Outer space

Kitchens

PB&J sandwiches

Toasted Cheese

LoFi music

Listening to/watching ambience videos

Turtle necks

Peaches

Looking at old maps

Figurines of the earth/globe

Honey and bees

Cheesecake

Seeing footprints in sand and watching them be washed away by waves

Anything related to the moon, stars, and sun

Reading my horoscope (even if I know it’s not real)

Archways decorated with hanging flowers

Yogurt

Pudding

Knowing that I’m not alone

Ancient roman sculptures

Macarons

When someone tells me they care about me

Weddings

Watercolour

Birthday parties

My brother

My sister

When my dog leaves his bed to lay in the sunlight

Doing mini photoshoots with my friends

Hand making bracelets/necklaces (friendship bracelets)

When someone calls me darling or honey

Love letters

Game night

Skateboarding

Stress balls and squishy toys

Starting something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time

Playing cards

Doing puzzles

Word searches

Kittens

Ordering takeout

Stepping out into the fresh air

Creating vision boards

Getting a massage

Writing positive affirmations

Lunch dates

Standup comedy

Listening to classical music

Nature/animal documentaries

Having someone there to listen to me

Listening to someone when they need it

Accepting myself for who I am

Looking back and seeing how far I’ve come and all the progress I've made

Doing something my future self will be thankful for

Speaking up for myself

Being near loved ones

Finding time for my hobbies

Giving myself time to rest

Saturday mornings

Marrying the one I love

Discovering new things

Going to new cities

My idols

Pastries

Feeling the wind on my face on a car ride

The sensation of music in my ears and like nothing else matters

People who have my best interest in mind

Simplicity

Fulfilling my dreams

Discovering a new ice cream flavor

Knitting

Making myself a priority

Knowing that I am important, and I matter

Thank you all so much for following me and supporting my blog! It means a TON! I never expected for this blog to become popular, especially because I originally started it to help myself get through some mental health issues. I am so happy to be able to share my journey of healing with you all! It means the world to me to help or make a positive impact on even just one person’s life! Each and every single one of you is amazing!! You matter and you are SO important! Thanks again for your everything! Have a great day!!! Sending sunshine your way!!

#10K Followers!!!#WOW!!#Thank you so much!!#Positivity #Happy List #Reasons to Smile #Happy #Happy Things #You are so amazing #You Matter #<3 #jkshdfka #this is the project I was working on #thanks everyone for the help #ilyasm #I loved reading all your submissions so much #you all are so sweet ahh #this was so fun to do #I hope you like this

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anonymous-tals · 3 years

Text

Oops, I projected my mental health issues onto a fictional character that is similar to me. Time to write fanfiction, I guess!

TW: Eating Disorders. If you are struggling or are in recovery from an eating disorder, here’s a big ol’ trigger warning. There are no numbers or specifics about anything but it does center around Brad Bakshi of the show Mythic Quest struggling with his eating disorder.

This is not in an attempt to glamorize eating disorders(not that I wrote anything that would but just in case someone misinterprets this). Eating disorders are not cute or quirky. They are serious illnesses that lead to death. If you are struggling with an eating disorder, you deserve recovery. Please reach out for help to a trusted adult.

National Eating Disorder Association 1-800-931-2237

One last trigger warning for eating disorders before we begin! I hope the writing isn’t trash. If you have any critiques, feel free to comment them. I hope you enjoy the story(if this is cringey, future me, you have permission to murder me right now):

Brad’s eyes opened, squinting as he tried to adjust to the harsh lights. He looked around the room, confused as to where he was. After a couple of seconds, he identified the room as a hospital room. There was a lady sitting on a chair by the door reading a book. Adjusting himself, Brad slowly sat up, his head aching as he did. The lady perked up as she noticed Brad had awakened.

“Oh! You’re awake!”, she said, calmly, putting down her book.

“Where-Where am I?”, said Brad.

“You’re in the hospital, sir.” Brad looked around the room. The walls were a cool green. Typical nature photos shuffled through on a tv that was mounted on the wall in front of his bed as it waited to be used. There was a thin door that he guessed was either a bathroom or a closet. Brown cupboards lined the walls. He moved his arm only to notice there was a tube attached to it.

“What the hell happened?”, he thought. The previous day, or what he presumed to be the previous day, had been foggy. Well, pretty much everyday lately had been a blur.

“I’m going to go tell a nurse you’re awake so we can do weights and vitals.” A pang of fear struck him at the sound of the word weight. Someone else was going to see what he weighed. His thoughts were racing.

“Just take a deep breath.”, he thought. He tried to calm himself down by looking around the room. He noticed there was a card on the counter beneath the cabinets. Curiosity got the best of him and he stood up. Stars popped into his vision and he steadied himself before making his way to the counter. The tube was just barely long enough for him to reach it. The cover read, ‘Get well soon!’. Brad walked back to the hospital bed and sat on the edge of the mattress. “I wonder who it’s from?”, he thought, opening the card. “I can’t believe you are in the hospital! You appeared so healthy. Get well, soon, motu.”

“Brad Bakshi?”, a nurse called from the doorway. He looked up, tossing the card into a trash can by the bed. The lady who had been sitting in the room with him walked in and sat down again, opening her book. “Hello, I’m Amanda Armstrong and I’ll be your nurse today. Do you know why you’re here?”, she said.

“No.”, Brad replied, shortly.

“Well, you were brought here by…”, she looked down at a clipboard she was holding. “...Ian Grimm? Does that name sound familiar?”

“Yes, he’s my boss.” Brad kept his voice calm but his heart was starting to quicken. Memories from the day previous began to surface.

“Well, he said you had fainted while walking up a flight of stairs.” Brad’s calm demeanor cracked as the memories flooded back.

“Oh...yah. I remember that.”

“Yes, well, you got a concussion. Thankfully, it isn’t too bad.”

“When will I be getting out?”, Brad said, shaking away his feelings of anxiety.

“Well, let’s take your vitals first and then we can discuss that. Come with me.” Brad followed Amanda out into the hall. They didn’t walk for long but the environment made him feel uneasy. There was something surreal about it. Or maybe it was the fact that he felt a little light headed that made everything feel a bit off. “We’ll be in here.”, said Amanda, opening the door. Brad entered the room, surveying his surroundings. It looked like a typical room for check-ups. Amanda made her way to the computer sitting on the desk and started logging in and opening a file. “Ok, let’s do your vitals. I’m going to ask you to lay down and stay still, please!” She walked over to the wall where a weird machine stood. “I’m just going to put this on your arm, if you’d roll up your sleeve for me.” Brad rolled up his sleeve and she velcroed what appeared to be something relating to blood pressure. “Ok, I’m going to need you to answer honestly. Have you had any feelings of depression or sadness?”

“Excuse me?”, said Brad, startled, sitting up.

“Please lay down, Mr.Bakshi. Begrudgingly, Brad lay down.

“Why on earth are you asking me this?”, said Brad, frustrated.

“Well…”, she hesitated. “Ok, I’m going to be direct with you here. Your boss reported that you hadn’t been eating much and you have been appearing to be quite fatigued and dizzy. Right now, we’re doing your vitals to see what we’ll need to do.”

“Are you implying that I have an eating disorder? I’ll tell you right now that I don’t.”

“Well, the lanugo is telling a different story. Now, please, let’s go through the questions.” The nurse asked the questions while doing the vitals despite Brad giving short, passive aggressive answers.

“Ok, time for weight and height.” Brad's heart quickened.

“Do we have to?”

“I’m going to have you turn around. You won’t even see it!” He stepped onto the scale as he tried to hide his growing panic.

“You fat idiot. If you restricted more, maybe you wouldn’t be so anxious right now. You wouldn’t even be here, I bet! You fat, stupid, fatty-”

“Ok, you can step off!” The nurse's voice interrupted his thoughts and he stepped off the scale. Ok, let’s do your height.

She measured his height and then went over the computer and input the information.

“Ok. So, here’s what we’ve got going on here, Mr.Bakshi. Your vitals are showing symptoms of anorexia and so is your BMI.”

“BMI is garbage.”, Brad said dismissively.

“Well, that doesn’t disregard any of the other information. I can’t force you to do anything since you’re an adult but I would highly suggest going into inpatient care.”

“For the last time, I don’t have an eating disorder! Sorry, I care about my health! I thought losing weight was a good thing!” The nurse sighed before closing out of the tabs on the computer.

“Well, you can think it over during the next couple days. You’ll need to stay here to make sure your head is okay.” Rolling his eyes, Brad scoffed.

“Fine, whatever. My decision won’t change, though!”

They headed back to the room and Brad sat down on his bed. He stared at the tv. It had just faded to a picture of a monarch butterfly on a purple flower. His gaze travelled across the room until it fell onto the card he had thrown in the trash can.

“I bet I wouldn’t even get diagnosed with anything. I’m too fat. I need to be thinner. I’m not even that bad. I need to be that bad, though.” Just then, a sharp knock on the door halted his thoughts in their tracks. Brad looked up to see David standing at the doorway with a balloon and a gift bag.

“Great, just what I needed.”, said Brad, sarcastically.

“Nice to see you too, Brad.” Brad rolled his eyes in response. “The office was really worried about you! You sure took a tumble. Anyways, here’s a balloon! And a gift! Courtesy of your friends at the office!”

“Interesting. I didn’t consider you guys as friends.”, Brad replied coldly.

“What do you want me to say, then? Huh? Courtesy of everyone you annoy and pester?” Brad looked away, not responding. He was finding it harder and harder to keep his emotions hidden underneath.

“Listen, David. I don’t care about you guys and you guys don’t care about me and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“I’m sorry we’re decent enough human beings to care about other people.”

“Pshh, you don’t care about me. You just want to feel good about yourselves so you can feel like you’re a decent human being. So you can stop pretending you care about me because you don’t, ok? No one does.” His emotions were slipping through. He could feel his eyes welling up but he wouldn’t allow the tears to fall.

“Come on, Brad. Of course people care about you! Your brother for example! He’s a great guy! He threw you that awesome birthday party, remember?” Brad sat still, not responding. “Earth to Brad, anyone in there?”, David said, giving a small laugh.

“Shut up!” Brad shouted loudly, causing David to wince. “My brother is a horrible person. He has gone out of his way to ruin my life. In fact, he is ruining my life right now.” His voice cracked as a tear broke through.

“Brad, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize-”

“Just leave, ok? Please just leave.” Brad’s heart began to beat faster. “You idiot.”, he thought. “You let him see that you’re weak. You are weak. You’re just a fat, weak, pussy.” His breathing was getting quicker and quicker. The room started to spin. It felt like everything was happening all at once. Just then, he felt a hand on each of his shoulders.

“Take a deep breath, ok?”, said David. Brad hesitated before taking a deep breath in and letting it out. “In, 2, 3, 4. Out, 2, 3, 4. In, 2-” Slowly Brad began to calm down. He opened his eyes, not even realizing that he had closed them. “Better?”, asked David, taking a step back. Brad looked towards the window, avoiding eye contact, wiping the tears from his face. He tried to think of something witty to say but he was too tired. They were both quiet for a bit before David broke the silence. “Well, I have to go but I-”

“Stay. Please.” Brad didn’t break eye contact with the window.

“I...I guess I could stay.” David pulled up the chair that the lady had been in earlier. They sat there in silence for a while before David grabbed the remote for the TV. “Are you good with me putting something on?” Brad stayed quiet. “I’ll take that as a yes!” He scrolled through the small selection of movies before choosing something and relaxing into his chair.

…

They sat there for a while. Movies played while David talked about what had happened at the office that day. Poppy and Ian created an obstacle course to see who was better. Not better at one specific thing. Just better in general. Brad didn’t respond but every once in a while, a small smile would crack through.

“Well, it’s getting late so I think I should actually get going.”, David said, standing up and started walking out the door. Just before he left, Brad spoke.

“Thank you...for staying and all.” He, once again, wasn’t making eye contact.

“Of course, man. It’s no big deal!” There was a pause before Brad spoke again.

“They want me to do an inpatient program.”

“Oh? For…” David trailed off.

“Yah…” Brad started fidgeting with the corner of the blanket on the bed. “I don’t know what to do. Whether I should go or not.”

“Well, I’d say you should do what you think would benefit you best.”, said David, taking a couple steps towards him. Brad was silent.

“...Thanks, David.”

David gave a small wave as he walked out the door. Brad sat there awake for a while, unable to sleep. He sat there, listening to the sounds of the hospital through the door. A woman, presumably a nurse, poked her head in the room. “Would you like to order dinner?” Brad shook his head and the nurse left. He then spotted the gift bag that David had brought. He picked it up and removed the tissue paper stuffed in at the top. Inside there was a pig plush and a card. The plushy was adorable and very soft. He pet the pig plush, enjoying the soothing texture, before placing it in his lap and moving onto the card. It was your typical get better soon card. On the inside, there were either signatures or little get well messages from everyone. It seemed like the pig plush was Jo’s idea. Brad leaned over and placed the card on the side table next to his bed. He looked at it for a minute before grabbing the pig, getting under the covers and falling asleep.

#brad bakshi #brad bakshi fanfic #is this cringey? i can't tell.#mythic quest fanfic #mythic quest

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treasure-hwa · 3 years

Text

loving you is easy

pairing: mingyu x female reader

genre: fluff, comedy

synopsis: do you know how fairytales always end saying the couple lived happily ever after? This is one of the couples, they fall more in love everyday.

word count: 1421

author's note: I am incredibly in love with Kim Mingyu and he would be a perfect husband, so enjoy this piece of a happy couple.

It was not morning, but sunlight rays peeked through the closed curtains, creating a warm soft glow into the bedroom. The couple sleeping safe and sound decided it would be nice to take a nap during the afternoon to be well rested to the event they needed to attend later on the evening. A wedding rehearsal. Mingyu’s sister’s wedding rehearsal.

He still could not quite believe his little sister would be marrying in less than a day, but her fiance seemed to be a good man, so he was accepted in the Kim family, which means Mingyu had liked him, much more than her previous boyfriends.

Feeling like the nap had lasted long enough and bothered by the light hitting her right in the face when the curtains were swung by the soft wind, the woman slowly woke up, her body doing the same things as always: face fondly rubbing on Mingyu’s chest, hand caressing his abdomen back and forth and leg rubbing up and down on his. Her grip on the man tightened before she could let him go, as if he was her body pillow or Teddy bear and, honestly, he was.

As if on clue, when she tried to get up, Mingyu rolled both on bed and laid on top of her, also rubbing his face on her chest and tightening his grip around her waist. He was a big touchy boy and has always loved cuddling her, since the beginning of their relationship, but he always paid attention to the limits, of course. Fortunately for him, she was almost as touchy.

— Gyu, I need to get up — she groaned, but started stroking his fluffy messy hair. He looked the most adorable when he woke up, so adorable she probably would not mind skipping the day just to enjoy him.

The man mumbled a protest, but let her go, rolling on the bed again and grabbing a pillow to cuddle, because, as he constantly said, "sleeping is much better when there's something warm between your arms". She could not disagree, ever.

— I'll take a bath, but you can sleep for a little longer, okay?

He nodded sleepily, clutching the pillow and making her smile at her lovely big husband. No one could expect the next scene. As the sleep had not left her yet, when she got up and walked to the bathroom, she tripped over her shoes, almost falling on the floor, but fortunately she did not, however, Mingyu was startled, turning to her the second he heard the thud of her feet hitting the floor.

— Jeez, what are you doing, woman?

— I tripped, sorry — chuckled, kicking the shoes to the side.

Arriving at the bathroom safely after that mini accident, she took off her clothes and took a long shower, pampering herself in the best way. A wedding rehearsal would happen, a fancy event, so she needed to feel good and pretty, otherwise the night would be a nightmare for her.

When she was done with hair and body, the woman wiped down the foggy mirror, giggled to herself remembering that trend on Tiktok and made sure the bathroom windows and door were open so the steam of the previous shower could dissipate faster.

Wearing only normal cotton black panties and with her hair wrapped with a towel, she looked natural and fresh, which Mingyu made sure to empathize once he saw her through the mirror, brushing her teeth and with her breasts out.

— Well, well, well, what do we have here? — He came from behind and rested his hands on her naked waist.

The woman rolled her eyes and would have called him "silly" if her mouth wasn't occupied. The tip of his nose ran from her neck to her shoulder, sniffling her skin and making agreement hums.

— You smell so good, babe, so fresh.

She smiled at his image on the mirror and leaned back, resting on his naked chest for a moment, while he kissed her shoulder and caressed her waist with both thumbs. She bent down to quickly spit the toothpaste on her mouth and reply:

— That's what you are supposed to smell like after a shower.

— I know, but — he hums — you are so nice.

She turned around on his grip and pointed her toothbrush to his face, asking:

— Won't you dress up?

Instead of replying, Mingyu pecked her lips, even though she still had blue-ish foam on them, and smiled, licking his own and tasting the mint on them.

— I will, just let me enjoy you for a bit longer. — He kissed her cheek.

— Don’t make us late, please, your family wouldn’t like it.

— I never make us late.

She washed her mouth and turned to him again, now hugging his neck and pressing her chest to his.

— Do I need to remember you who arrived late at our wedding?

He groaned, making her smile, and answered:

— I’ve told you countless times it wasn’t my fault. The car wouldn’t work.

— Yes, I know, but I messaged Minghao that day and he said you were already late because your “face didn’t look right”.

— Unblessed be, Minghao!

She laughed, pecked the man’s lips, cheek and jaw and tapped his butt.

— Now, go and take a shower. I’ll take the hairdryer and head out of here.

Mingyu was not having it. He gripped her waist and kept her in place, whining.

— Why don’t you dry your hair here? It would be a nice vision to see during shower. — He wiggled his eyebrows and slid his hands down to her butt, squeezing it softly.

— I'm gonna cover up, seriously, you are a perv.

— No, no, no, I'm not, I swear I'm not. — He hugs her properly, nuzzling his nose in her cheek. — I just love you so much and seeing you, doesn’t matter how, makes me happy.

She chuckled, cheeks getting warm, because, damn, that man was The Man, always saying simple things that made her heart jump even after years of marriage. However, she still wore her favorite robe, then unwrapped her hair from the towel. While he took a shower, she dried her hair and they made small talk loud enough to be heard over the water and the hairdryer sounds: Mingyu told her funny stories about his friends, and she told him about the promotion happening on her office. He encouraged her to participate, knowing she was incredibly capable of getting a higher role in the company.

— You say that because you are my husband.

He opened the shower box and put his head out, droplets of water falling down on him, hair slicked back and eyebrows furrowed. Handsome.

— Hey! I may be married to you, but I’m not dumb, okay? I know you have potencial, babe.

Smiling, she went over to him and kissed his wet lips, thanking him before making her way out of the bathroom, hair ready.

A few minutes later, she was sat on the high chair by the kitchen counter messaging her sister-in-law, who was currently doing her makeup and sending her funny photos and nervous messages. While she typed out answers, Mingyu came from behind again, hugging his wife and resting his chin on her bare shoulder.

— Why are you chuckling? — He asked, kissing her exposed skin.

— Your sister. She’s really nervous and mentioned running away with her fiance. Can you imagine what people would say if the bride and the groom didn’t show up?

He chuckled, squeezing you between his arms before turning you to face him.

— And are you trying to calm her or...?

— I am. I said how marriage is wonderful with the right person, the person you love, how they will make everything to see you smile everyday and make you feel at ease every single day.

— Awnt, you are so cute, babe, you really are whipped for me.

— What is your credibility to say that? You are even worse.

— Yep, and I’m proud.

Mingyu gave her the softest smile, which she could not handle at the moment as her heart swell with the great amount of love she felt for him, so the woman kissed him while his hands held her waist soflty and hers played with his damp hair.

They could only hope the almost newlywed couple felt the same way they did, overflowing with true love every minute of the day.

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adorablelokie · 3 years

Text

Who is hunting who, or alternatively, is Loki going after Sylvie or is Sylvie seeking out Loki?

So far we’ve ‘seen’ Sylvie make an appearance in 6 different scenes:

- The one where she set the field on fire and knocked out TVA agents

- The one where she’s fighting the agents by the elevator in the TVA building

- The one where she’s spying on Loki and the TVA on surveillance cameras

- The one where she’s running away through a fog

- The one where she’s sitting with Loki by a small industrial lake

- The one where she’s doing a flip in a poorly lit room in a mysterious palace

And surprisingly, Loki has been around for at least 5 out of those 6 scenes. Let me show you:

1. The one where she sets the field on fire and knocks out the TVA agents.

This is a scene where Loki is probably not involved or present at all and is the lone exception. In fact this seems like an introduction scene of a mysterious antagonist of the show who will later on be revealed to be Sylvie.

I’m fairly convinced this scene happens in episode 1 since she’s still keeping her identity hidden. Judging by bts videos she takes off her cloak at some point during the mall scene which is set for episode 2.

Plus Derek Russo, who according to IMDb is only appearing in episode 1, is also involved in this scene as the unknown TVA agent who gets dragged away while he was reaching out for the orange canister.

tl;dr: No Loki here, introduction of Sylvie the enemy of the TVA and first hints of what she’s after. Likely (thanks to her cloak and a fellow actor) this happens in episode 1.

2. The one where she’s fighting the agents by the elevator in the TVA building

This is a scene where Loki actually is around. In the trailer #2 we saw Sylvie fighting two agents by the elevator in what is obviously, the TVA building.

But we also saw an alert Loki cautiously walking down a, rather monotone looking corridor. Judging by the markings on the wall this is also set in the TVA HQ.

Perhaps one’s first impression would be that Loki went rogue and is trying to escape his TVA ‘friends’, but it doesn’t appear that that’s the case. In the following shot we see a knocked out TVA agent just...lying there on the ground and Loki is, with his knives drawn, slowly making his way towards them, not away from them as he would if he was the one responsible for the poor agent’s state.

It appears that Loki is approaching the commotion/danger and is following the source of the fight. In this case I believe Loki is chasing down Sylvie, who has broken into the TVA HQ for reasons unknown. Perhaps to steal something that would allow he to travel through space and time. She does seem to be after something (note: orange canisters). But I doubt he knows about her identity just yet. I think Loki will find out who she is at the same time as the audience will, meaning, it’ll probably happen in episode 2.

tl;dr: Sylvie is in the building, Loki is there too, following the ‘crumbs’ she left behind and this might be the first time Loki and Sylvie interact in the show and/or are in close proximity.

3. The one where she’s spying on Loki and the TVA on surveillance cameras

A pretty easy one! The TVA and Loki enter the ROXXCART shopping mall (apparently, according to Decatur) it’s a scene set in 2050. They evacuate some people, but they also seem to get involved in a fight. Or at least Loki does as a random guy attacks him and he gets laid out by a roomba. No worries though, as Loki ultimately gets his revenge and knocks him out.

But from the safety of ROXXCART’s security room, Sylvie’s watching the events unfurl before her, still safely hidden in her oversized cloak (also is there a reason other that suspense for her to be so hidden? Can she not shapeshift or magically change her appearance?). I previously theorised that she might be capable of telepathically influencing people and might be behind Loki’s little roomba fight.

Thanks to bts videos and photos we know that at some point during this mall confrontation Sylvie has a rather flippant looking conversation with Hunter B-15 and this time, she doesn’t wear any sort of garments over her head. She’s no longer hiding who she is, but earlier, while she was watching surveillance cameras she was still wearing her cloak, so this is probably the scene when we get our first full glimpse of her.

Ultimately at some point after defeating the mighty roomba guy, Loki seems to realise he has an opportunity to escape and takes it, jumping through a portal waiting for him. Mobius and co are running after him, but too late, Loki’s gone. For now?

I wonder if the portal was opened by Loki himself orrrrr.....if maybe Sylvie’s to blame, and kind of helped him out there. After all, by watching trailer #2 we know she’s aware of the portals and likely knows how to use them.

tl;dr: Loki, Mobius and the TVA are in Roxxcart mall. Sylvie’s there too, being a stalker and watching them on cameras. Loki has a fight, Sylvie has a convo with Hunter B-15 and at some point Loki escapes. Our first look at Sylvie and this might be Loki’s first real confrontation with her.

4. The one where she’s running away through a fog

This one is my favorite moment because I don’t think many have noticed that the scene of Sylvie running away from chaos through fog might happen on the same planet/realm/place as Loki’s magical fight on a moving bar (possibly a fancy train? A bus?)

Admittedly, this one is hard to see, but if you watch the trailer (or if you watch it frame by frame), please spare a glance at the mysterious bulky figure running straight at her on the left of your screen.

The shrouded-in-foggy-mystery-figure seems to be wearing the exact same type of pointy, very Daft Punk looking helmets as the figures of authority Loki’s fighting off in a moving bar. They also seem to be wielding some type of a staff resembling weapon, which was also seen in the scene where Loki’s fighting, using his magic.

Even the overall fancy aesthetic looks similar to the one of Sylvie running through fog.

Even the type of font is similar/exactly the same.

tl;dr: Sylvie and Loki are both in the same place. Sylvie’s escaping a commotion possibly caused by her and Loki’s fighting off what seem to be figures of authority in that place.

5. The one where she’s sitting with Loki by a small industrial lake

This one is by far the easiest as they’re literally sitting inches across from each other. Where exactly they are it’s unknown, but they’re sitting by what seems to be an industrial lake (drainage/sewer pipes on their far right) and with lights illuminating the entire place.

At first it’s just Sylvie, but then Loki joins her. Looking at the given scenes it seems like she’s waiting for him.

Whatever’s going on in this scene I feel like it’s going to be emotionally heavy one. I think this is the scene where we actually find out who Sylvie truly is, what’s her real agenda. It might also be the first proper ‘ok, let’s sit down and talk’ moment between Loki and Sylvie. It gives me those vibes.

Also, they’re clearly not enemies at this point, in fact, judging by their close proximity and body language, it seems like they’re on okayish, maybe even friendly terms. I do believe they join forces at some point in the show.

And this scene of a portal opening up behind Loki follows their conversation. It’s the same rock structure, the same two rocks Loki and Sylvie were sitting on earlier, same ground, same source of lighting.

It seems like either someone from the TVA finds them or that Sylvie opens a portal for Loki.

tl;dr: Sylvie’s waiting for Loki. They have a heart-to-heart and seem to be okay with each other. After their conversation’s over, a portal opens up behind Loki.

6. The one where she’s doing a flip in a poorly lit room in a mysterious palace

Another very obvious one. At some point in later episodes (thanks to Loki’s injured right upper arm, we know this definitely happens after he and Sylvie have that conversation) Loki finds himself at a weird, semi abandoned (but not really, as the fire’s still lit) dark palace with golden specks and cracks everywhere.

We see a bit of light coming through the window, illuminating the room, giving this place a more pinkish tinge. Whatever this place is, it seems like a cathedral or a palace. It’s not entirely abandoned though.

Sylvie’s there too and she’s in her element, mid-flip, ready to demolish whoever she’s fighting. Loki? Who knows.

Loki is certainly looking for someone, and is on alert. Perhaps they’re actually working together to take down a mutual enemy.

tl;dr: Sylvie and Loki find themselves in the same, very aesthetically pleasing looking place and something goes down.

7. The one where Loki uses Sylvie’s sword to fight off the TVA guys.

Not really a ‘omg Sylvie’s there too!’, but I wanted to include it anyway.

I mean, it’s possible she’s there. I actually think she is and that’s why I’m including it.

Sylvie always has a sword on her person. In literally every scene we have of her so far, we could see her sword. The TVA agents don’t seem to wield swords (they have some weird glowy sticks) and Loki doesn’t wield a sword until he finds a shorter one later on in the show (it’s totally different from Sylvie’s)

This sword belongs to her. That’s for sure. Hunter B-15 does grab it from her at some point but I highly doubt she’s on her side.

However, at some point Loki is seen fighting the TVA agents (the glowy sticks are a dead giveaway) with Sylvie’s sword.

Now, these two guys don’t look like the usual TVA guards/hunters/agents so they might be from another department or are from another timeline. I believe at this point something either happens to Sylvie and she can’t fight (especially since she seems to be on unfriendly terms with the TVA) so Loki jumps in and helps her, or, he helps her out of the goodness of his heart. (Lol)

Anyway, there’s a reason why he has her swords and why he’s fighting the TVA. This frame just gives me more proof that Loki and Sylvie join forces.

tl;dr: Loki is using Sylvie’s sword and is fighting the TVA. Sylvie’s nowhere to be seen, but is probably around. Loki helps her.

Anyway, this is it. For some reason Loki and Sylvie do seem to be orbiting around each other a lot in this show. But that’s to be expected as Sophia’s one of the four leads and a possible main antagonist.

The only thing that I can’t quite decipher just yet is if Loki (and the TVA till certain point) are going after Sylvie for the time mess/crimes she caused OR if Sylvie is actively seeking out Loki for her own reasons.

Possibly a bit of both. Maybe she’s even the reason why he goes rogue and escapes the TVA, hoping to find the answers about who she is and why he’s in this mess on his own. Because I think there’s a chance the TVA might not be telling him everything and he, intrigued as only he can be, decides to find for himself.

Anyway, I can’t wait to see Loki and Sylvie wreak havoc on the TVA :)

#loki series #loki show #loki #sylvie #sylvie lushton #loki theory #loki speculation #sophia di martino #tom hiddleston #theory #speculation #analysis

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littlemisspascal · 3 years

Text

Death and an Angel part 4

Death!Din and Cupid F!Reader

Summary: When you and Din arrive at the village in Sorgan, you both learn that the universe is full of surprises.

Rating: G

Word Count: 3,300

Warnings: Fluffy fluff, angsty angst, pining (so...much...pining...)

Author Note: All the love and thanks to everyone who reads, likes, reblogs, and comments on this series! Seriously, the support is beyond words. I wanted to go ahead and spoil it now that Winta does not make an appearance. I love that little girl in the episode, but I just couldn’t get her to fit in this segment. Maybe she’ll appear later on in the future, I honestly don’t know how my brain works.

Also, fun fact, this will be my 100th post 😱🥳

Links to Part 1 and Part 3 and Part 5

Photo Inspiration: (I love black and white photos if you can’t tell by now...)

Sorgan is a beautiful planet, covered in massive forests and several freshwater lakes filled with krill. There is a tiny, farming village that isolates itself in the midst of Sorgan’s swampy region which is where you hope to find Omera. Rumor has it she’d fallen in love with the community five years ago and bound her nurturing powers to the planet, shielding them against the harshness of famine and plague. Her powers also prohibited other immortals from teleporting directly into the village, even if they meant no harm, thus forcing you and Din to walk the five-mile-long road from the common house to the village boundary line.

Mud sticks to the bottom of your shoes and the humidity is absolutely murdering your hair, but you love the addictive burn of fresh air filling your lungs, the symphonic sounds of the wilderness encompassing you. Here on Sorgan, the positive attributes far outweigh the negative ones.

Din walks beside you, close enough your arm occasionally brushes against his vambrace, and you find yourself glancing at him out of your peripheral every few steps, dazzled by how the sunlight reflects off his armor. He catches your eye more than once, inclining his head to stare back while puffing out his chest, preening like the kriffing asshole he is. Each time you swiftly turn away with a burning face, hating how his smugness changes to amusement at your inability to hold his gaze, even with the impeding visor.

You string together creative expletives in your mind, each one meant to strengthen your resolve to ignore him. Except, like clockwork, your eyes helplessly drift back over again mere minutes later, dooming you to a continuous cycle of torment and embarrassment.

At least up until you’re less than a mile from your destination and Din abruptly halts without warning. “How will I know?”

You nearly slip as you whirl around to face him, worried at first but then confused when the question registers. “Know what?”

“If I’ve met my match,” he answers, the hand branded with his soulmate marking restlessly clenching and unclenching at his side. “How will I know it’s my soulmate?”

It’s a question you’re extremely familiar with. Maker knows exactly how many times you’ve been asked it throughout your years as a Cupid, but it’s got to be nearing a couple hundred thousand at least. And yet your usual go-to answer—a speech fed to you by your bosses about the perfect plan of the universe—doesn’t feel right to give him. He deserves your own honest opinion.

The first time you ever matched two individuals, you’d naively expected literal sparks to appear when they shook hands. Or a beam of light to shine down on them from above, an unmistakable sign from the universe they were meant to be together. So you were crushed when absolutely nothing noteworthy happened, only that neither one was able to look away from each other, eyes as wide as moons and full of awe. The same kind of awe usually reserved for watching sunsets and hearing a baby’s first cry of life.

You’d realized then the exact moment soulmates experienced their connection was not something externally witnessed by the eyes of the world. It was an internal sensation felt only by the two halves finally becoming whole.

“They’re called your soulmate for a reason, Din,” you say, slowly drawing closer. You’re not truly cognizant of your actions, only your voice, and perhaps that’s why you reach out to take a hold of his gloved hand, rubbing your thumb over his leather-covered knuckles. Distantly, as if looking through a foggy window, you’re aware of the way his whole body freezes at your touch, but still you hold on, still the words keep flowing from your lips.

“The moment you shake their hand, there will be no doubt. It’ll be instant. Like you’re tasting air for the first time after being trapped underwater. Everything will be clearer, colors brighter. Your whole world will crumble apart at their feet because all that matters now is them. And the only thought you’ll be able to think is, ‘It’s you. All this time I’ve been waiting for you.’”

Din sucks in a ragged breath. It’s only barely audible because of your closeness, but it’s also just loud enough to snap you out of your daze. “Angel,” he says hesitantly. It’s your turn to freeze when he leans in, helmet pressing softly against your forehead. “Have you ever—“

You jerk backwards, cutting Din off and releasing your grip on his hand all in the same movement. Panic is swelling in your chest and you can’t stop it, clothes suddenly feeling too constricting and you force yourself to remember why you’re here on Sorgan, the importance of the mission at stake.

“We need to keep moving,” you say, looking anywhere but Din’s direction. “I don’t think the village is that much further.”

Din watches you silently, no doubt trying to make sense of your agitated state. You feel exposed, torn open at the seams with all your insecurities on full display for him to pick apart and criticize.

In the end though, he only heaves a sigh, respectfully granting you time to begin the slow process of stitching yourself back up.

“Lead the way,” Din says, gesturing towards the path with a nod of his head. “I go where you go.”

The rest of the journey would have been completed in silence, if not for how Din’s unfinished question seemed to float alongside you in the breeze, echoing in your ears.

Have you ever...

~~~

The villagers are scared of your arrival at first, panicked to be in the presence of Death. Parents clutch at their children and the elderly are ushered into huts, as if they’ll be better protected by being kept out of Din’s field of vision.

“I promise you, we don’t mean any harm,” you say, but your words do little to reassure any of them.

A woman emerges from the crowd, the only one whose expression doesn’t bear a hint of fear. Segments of her dark hair are intricately braided while the rest flows unhindered over her shoulders, long enough to nearly reach her waist. Her features are delicate, but there is strength in how she carries herself as she marches right up to you and Din, shoulders drawn back with determination.

“Omera,” you breathe, recognizing the woman for the goddess she truly is.

“Yes,” she says, sounding reluctant to confirm her identity. Her eyes flick between you and Din. “Who are you and why have you brought Death here? I have a formal agreement with the Guild that grants me permission to personally handle the passing of my people’s souls into the afterlife. Death should have no purpose here.”

This is news to you.

Not the reference of the Guild—you’re very much aware of Greef Karga’s organization of reapers who assist Din in maintaining the natural order by collecting deceased souls on his behalf across the galaxy. Despite all the powers that come with being Death, Din is unable to be everywhere all at once. So the reapers bring the souls to Nevarro where Karga holds onto them until Din arrives to usher them into the afterlife.

What you weren’t aware of is her claim that this village might be the one place in the whole galaxy where Death and his associates have no influence.

“I’m a Cupid. I help people find their soulmates.” You gesture to Din who stands so tense behind you, you’re not entirely certain he’s even breathing. “And currently, I’m helping him.”

The way Omera’s expression instantly brightens is almost comical. A smile grows across her face, warm and friendly as if she’s known you for years and not mere seconds. “Oh, forgive me my rudeness. That’s wonderful to hear. It’s been quite some time since we’ve had guests. Would you like something to drink?”

“Actually—” Din starts, speaking for the first time since you’ve arrived.

“Yes, I would love one,” you interrupt, digging your elbow into his side and eliciting a soft grunt. “I heard the spotchka here is exceptional.”

The villagers, who had relaxed once Omera deemed you and Din weren’t a threat, are eager to prove their reputation as spotchka brewmasters. Nothing brings people together like alcoholic beverages, and within the hour you are sitting on a log bench in the village center and chatting amicably with them.

It’s a happy, tight knit community. Omera’s nurturing powers have only further increased it’s natural conditioning as an ideal sanctuary to raise a family. Everyone knows one another and takes care of each other. You can see how easy it was for her to have fallen in love with the place.

“He’s different than I expected.” Omera interrupts your thoughts by nodding to someone behind you.

You follow her line of sight, and see Din standing distantly in a field of grass, surrounded by a squadron of younglings. He’s too far to be heard, but you can tell by the gesturing of his hands that he’s explaining to them the pieces of his armor. They’re hanging onto his every word, completely enthralled, if their wide-eyed expressions are any indication. You realize as you watch that they’ll never come to recognize Din as the true identity of Death due to Omera’s agreement with the Guild. In their eyes, he is just an interesting stranger wearing shiny metal who they can pester with an endless amount of questions.

“He’s got many layers,” you admit, turning back around before the bittersweet scene makes your heart melt into a disgusting puddle at your feet.

And it is only because you look away first that you notice how Omera’s gaze lingers just a beat too long.

“Does he ever take it off?” she asks. “The helmet, I mean.”

You hesitate, stalling by sipping at your spotchka. “Not when he’s Death.”

Omera looks at you like you’ve told her a riddle. “When is Death not Death?”

When he’s with me, the voice in the back of your head wants you to shout at her, but instead you ask, “You said earlier you handle the souls of the villagers when they pass away?”

“They asked me if I could protect their planet for future generations,” Omera explains slowly, confusion still present in the lines of her face. “My powers are strongly connected to the growth of life, blessing both expectant mothers and nature’s saplings. After I chose to bind myself to Sorgan, the villagers offered to lend me their souls as sources of energy to further strengthen it. So now, rather than losing them to the afterlife, we continue to see those who have passed on in every blossoming flower and in each drop of rain, remaining part of our everyday lives despite their physical absence.”

“That’s beautiful,” you breathe, because it’s the truth. It’s also the confirmation you needed to hear to honestly tell her, “He wouldn’t be Death here. He’d have the opportunity to be anyone else he wanted.”

Omera lets the words sink in for a moment, then she returns to staring at Din, eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully. You don’t blame her for being curious, especially since he’s barely said anything to her, subsequently forcing you to be the sociable one.

You thought when you both arrived he’d try harder than this to make a good first impression. Omera’s his potential soulmate, he knows this and yet it seems as if he’s doing all he can to avoid her.

Omera startles you out of your thoughts when she abruptly inches closer to you, as if preparing to share a secret in your ear.

“You said you were helping Death find his soulmate,” Omera’s voice is no louder than a murmur, seeming uncharacteristically bashful all of the sudden as she tugs at a strand of hair. “Does he...Has he been marked?”

It occurs to you then that this whole time she’s been fishing for information from you, gradually leading up to this particular question. This is a good thing, you tell yourself, despite the sickening pit forming in your stomach. It means she hasn’t been offended by his standoffishness.

“Yes.” Your head dips in a jerky nod. Fortunately the goddess doesn’t notice your awkwardness as she peers down at her hands folded in her lap. You know what’s there without having to see it. “We came here because I knew you’d been marked too.”

“I’d hoped so,” she confesses, showing you her palm. “I didn’t think it was possible, someone like me having a soulmate.” An immortal, your mind deciphers her underlying meaning. “But, then again, the universe always seems to be full of surprises, right?”

Soulmate markings all resemble each other as black lines forming the shape of a heart no bigger than a bottlecap in the center of one’s palm, regardless of what the person looks like themselves. They only appear on select individuals the universe picks for reasons known only by the divine Maker. Those without marks often make the ignorant mistake of comparing them to tattoos. A soulmate mark doesn’t fade with time like ink does, remaining eternally vibrant and warm to the touch, as if there’s a tiny flame buried beneath the skin.

You’ve seen thousands of marks on thousands of hands, yet your mouth dries up at the sight of hers despite it looking no different. An unexpected tremor rocks your body, worse than anything you’ve ever felt before. It’s as if you’ve been stabbed by an invisible shard of ice, threatening to freeze you solid from the inside out.

When you speak, each word scrapes against the inside of your throat and tastes bitter on your tongue. “You should go talk to him.”

Omera’s face goes a bit pink. “You think so?”

You force yourself to smile, hoping it doesn’t resemble a grimace or, Maker forbid, a snarl. “I think you’ll never know if he’s your match unless you do.”

Not needing any more convincing, she spares you one last hopeful look before leaving to approach Din. She walks across the grassy field with unhindered grace, not once tripping over a rock or the bottom of her dress, and you can’t help feeling envious, knowing your clumsy feet wouldn’t be able to carry you three steps without an issue. You watch as she says something to the children, inducing several disappointed groans audible even from where you sit, before one by one they each depart, seeking entertainment elsewhere in the village.

Omera and Din fall into conversation, and you bite your lip, knowing you’re only making the ache hurt worse by watching but unable to tear your eyes away. Their conversation is too quiet for you to make out, but given the way Din’s body language is relaxed and without a hint of defensiveness, you’re convinced Omera’s definitely charming him.

They’ll make an attractive couple, you think before you can stop yourself. They’re similar, too, in that they both have protective streaks a mile wide when it comes to those they care about. As a divinely gifted caretaker, Omera will know just what to say to pull him out of one of his brooding episodes. She’ll soften his rough edges, lend him strength when he needs it most, and might even be able to convince him to settle down in the village where he can shed his persona as Death and actually experience life. Most importantly, though, you hope she’ll make him happy.

Because Din deserves someone who will make him happy every day of his existence.

You know it’s coming, but still your breath stutters when you see Din begin to remove his glove. He moves slowly, revealing tanned skin inch by inch as he pulls at the leather with his other hand. He has never been one to hesitate over things in the past, except when he showed you his mark that night at the train station. You really don’t want to think that Din could be nervous, but you also can’t determine any other reason explaining his behavior. Omera, for her part, is the perfect image of patience as she waits for him to initiate contact, if not for the way you spy her pulling anxiously at her brown locks again.

As Din reaches out to grab hold of Omera's hand, there is a second right before contact where his helmet shifts in your direction and you feel the intensity of his gaze cut through the distance, piercing your fragile heart.

In the next breath, an invisible explosive force sends you hurtling backwards through the air several feet. You bite your tongue when you collide with the ground and blood begins pooling in your mouth, causing you to gag at the coppery taste. Ignoring the pain emanating from your undoubtedly bruised rib cage, you force your body to roll over so you can spit out a scarlet blob onto the dirt. Gross, you think sluggishly.

Movement out of the corner of your eye has your head turning to look, but it takes several more seconds before your brain comprehends what you’re seeing.

The village looks as if a massive wind storm has swept through it in the last five seconds. Several villagers are slowly rising onto their feet, having apparently also been roughly tossed to the ground, looking just as bewildered by the state of things as you feel.

Your eyes next lock onto Din’s figure. He and Omera stand in the distance exactly where you last saw them, appearing completely unaffected by the unseen force. But rather than looking at each other with awe as all other soulmate pairs do, there is only unbridled shock on Omera’s face.

With newfound urgency, you stumble onto your feet, knowing something’s gone horribly wrong.

“Din!”

Your shout startles him enough he visibly jolts, increasing your worry tenfold.

Your feet skid to a stop closer to his body than you anticipated, nearly colliding face-first with his chest. It’s on the tip of your injured tongue to ask them what the hell just happened when Din beats you to the punch.

“What happened to you?” he demands, cradling your jaw. He’s using his gloved hand, you can’t help but notice. His other one—still uncovered from when it had touched Omera’s—is pressed firmly against the segment of armor protecting his upper thigh. His thumb starts to wipe at the blood staining the corner of your mouth, but you refuse to be tended to when there’s a bigger issue at stake.

“What happened?” you repeat incredulously, pulling away and resisting the urge to smack the side of his helmet. “I should be asking you that, idiot. Did you two match?”

Omera says nothing in response to your question, but there is something about the way she stares at you directly, like you’ve revealed a secret of the universe right in front of her, that brings back the same self-conscious feeling of being exposed you’d felt earlier.

“Look for yourself, angel,” Din answers with a tone full of scorn, gesturing widely to your surroundings with both arms. “Does any of this look like what you told me would happen?”

Taken aback by his hostile tone, you glance around the field, only to be stunned by what you’d initially failed to notice. In an almost perfect circle encompassing the three of you, the once beautifully green and luscious grass is now black and shriveled, entirely devoid of life. It crunches beneath your shoes as you nervously shift in place, eerily resembling the sound of bone breaking, and you’re beginning to understand the shock you’d glimpsed on Omera’s face.

“No,” you say, feeling slightly hysterical but doing your best to keep it out of your voice. “No, it definitely doesn’t.”

Omera had said that the universe is always full of surprises.

What a kriffing understatement that turned out to be.

Tag List: @leilei-draws, @theocatkov, @becauseican2, @vintagesaph, @stardust-and-starlight, @kay2304, @odelia-d32, @adrieunor, @remmyswritings, @gallowsjoker, @rhiannon-russo, @randomness501, @eleine-t1d, @nicotinebirds, @sylphene, @softly-sad, @maytheglitter, @melobee, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives

#death and an angel #Pedro Pascal #Din Djarin #din x you #din x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #soulmate au #my writing #my fic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #mandalorian x reader #Mandalorian #the mandalorian

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hayleygray08 · 3 years

Text

You are my home.

Introduction: this is my first writing on here. Bare with me.

Summary: you are a new member of the team after tony finds you in a hydra raid. You are shy, reserved, and not very talkative at first until you realize the team is not going to hurt you. Once comfortable you show them your powers and fall for a certain super soldier, again.

I used google translate for words in Russian, so if the words are wrong. I apologize.

In my writing, no one is dead.

Pairing: bucky x reader, everyone else is platonic.

Genre: fluff, anguish, mentions of torture, blood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am crouched in the conner,on the floor of my cell waiting for the guards to come get me. My daily training. More like torture.

They make me train as hard as I can and if they think I am slaking, I get a few thousand jolts of electricity shot through my body. Or even a few punches.

Yesterday was one of the worst days so far, that I can remember. I was getting random images flash inside my head, almost from a past life from what I saw, which made me loose focus quite a bit. In return the men who watch me train were heavy with the electricity jolts and even harder punches, anywhere they could land on my body. So, I was not looking forward to today's training.

I don't have a clock or windows in my cell but I knew every time they would come to get me. Like my body knew the exact moment every day. So when that time came and I was still in my cell I was growing a little worry. They are never late, sometimes early, but never late. Just then a siren rang out and the lights dimmed then went red. Was that the alarm for an intruder? How is that possible?

As a million thoughts ran through my head at what could possibly cause the alarm to go off. A very vivid picture or memory came to me and played on repeat. It looked to be the 40's, on a dock or a pier, I was laughing and looking out at the water. There were two guys with me. One was small, blonde hair, blue eyes, and had a small smile on his face. The second was bigger then the first, had brown hair, bright blue eyes, and laughing with me. Why do they look familiar? Why do I have two names on the tip of my tongue? Who are they? Just as I was about to say those names my cell door was blown off and there was a cloud of dust.

As the dust settles and I can properly see, there is a man in a red and gold suit of metal. He walks towards me as he says "Cap we got someone here. She looks no older then 24, covered in bruises, and looks terrified.""Yes, I'll make sure to get her out.""No, I can't tell if she is dangerous." He sighs and crouches down so he can look me in the eyes.

"Hi, I am Tony Stark, and I am going to take you away from here." Tony says and offers me a hand. I take it cautiously and follow him out the door and eventually outside.

Once we made it outside I take a deep breath. It felt so good to get clean air. I don't even remember the last time I was outside. Must have been years. I had to shield my eyes, it was so bright out. I didnt notice more people joining us. I was to busy looking at my hands and arms. Was I always this pale? I look up at the guy who took me away, Tony, and then darkness.

Tony catches me before I could hit the floor and runs into the jet. He lays be on a table and Bruce starts an examination. Nobody dared bother him. Nat hands Tony a flash drive and sits back down with the others.

While I was unconscious and now in the medbay at the compound, I was getting more images. Some are to fast to register what it was and some stayed a good while showing me a life I do not remember, but wish I did. Also things I did, hurting people, a chair, and training. It was all to much. To much pain, suffering, lose. I could feel myself have a panic attack. Which alerted everyone.

I jolted up into a sitting position clenching my chest and taking big gasps of air. My heart monitor going off like crazy. I looked around frantically, not recognizing where I was. I tried to rip out the Iv's but a pinching sensation in my shoulder makes me stop. I look up and see a women, before I am unconscious again.

Meanwhile in the common area Tony, Steve, Natasha, Wanda, Sam, Clint, Vision, Bucky, Bruce, Thor, Loki, Scott, and Peter all sat around looking at my file.

"Her name is y/n, y/ln. She was born in 1918, lived in Brooklyn, New York. Was taken by Hydra in 1946 while she was working on a S.H.I.E.L.D mission. Hasn't been seen since. Until about 2001 when she was spotted riding a motorcycle from a crime scene. Looked to be an assassination. Then again in 2003, 2005, 2007, 2012 and the last time in 2014. So the last time was 7 years ago. It shows she was trained like the winter soldier, but never met one another. But her powers got out of control and they have been training her to keep them in control since 2014. She has assassinated 6 men, 4 women, 2 children, and 1 hydra agent in a training gone wrong on that one." Tony reads outloud to everyone.

Steve and Bucky look at each other with a look in their eyes, as if they can't believe it. Then Tony brings up a picture of me for the group to see. Everyone gasps as a few photos show up. One is me, Steve, and Bucky at Coney Island. Then one of me and Bucky smiling at each other. Then there is one of me and Peggy Carter. Once all pictures are shown, all eyes are on Steve and Bucky.

"You know her?" Asked Natasha. Everyone silently asking the same thing.

"Yes, we know her. She was our friend. She grew up with us. She was our best friend. And a little more to Bucky." Steve answers quietly, looking at Bucky. It has been 78 years since he has seen her.

As they tell the others about me and what they remember, I am waking up again at the medbay. This time more calm. The nurses and doctors where asking me questions but I wouldn't answer them. They could tell they were not going to get anywhere with me, they called Tony and Bruce. I still would not talk to them.

How could I trust them? I don't even know them. For all I know they could be Hydra as well. With all these images popping up I don't even know what to believe anymore. Both men were throwing question after question at me. I didnt know how to answer. Or if I even should. Once they realized they were not going to get anywhere they left.

By the time I got the okay from the doctors, I was put inside a cell. Something I am all to familiar with. But this one was clean, had a comfortable bed, running water, and was warm. All the walls were glass and I could see people standing around watching me. Two I kinda recognized due to the images that I get. Each one would ask a question, each time I just stared ahead.

"We want to help you." A women with red and blonde hair spoke up after a few minutes of silence. I laughed.

"You want to help me? You don't even know me. How can you help me?" I responded quietly.

"Wanda has some powers and is able to look inside your head. Put the pieces together for you. Help you remember." The same women responded looking at another women with red hhai. I am guessing is Wanda.

"We read your file, y/n, let us help you remember the things they have taken from you." Tony says as he walks around. I don't respond, just look at everyone.

They gave up after 3 hours of silence from me and them asking questions. They leave me alone until a few days later. For those days they would bring me food, check to see if I am okay, then leave. It was Wanda, Tony, Bruce, and Steve that came a few days later. I watch them as they open the door to my cell and take a seat on a bench.

"If you are okay with this, we would like to try something. It does involve bringing back everything Hydra took from you. It might be painfull. But we think you should have the choice in remembering your life."Tony speaks up after a few minutes of silence.

Do I trust these people to try and help me? Do I even want the help? To remember all the pain I have caused and I life I will never get back.

I look at the four people in front of me and when I looked at the blonde man named Steve a memory came to me. It was just us two in a tent that looked to be on a base of some sort. He was the way he is now bigger then the other one I have seen. As if he grew or got on steroids. He was telling me about someone but it was fuzzy but I had this feeling of sadness.

I take a big breath in and look at them. "What do I have to lose? Not like I am going anywhere anytime soon." I tell them as I look at my hands.

I didnt see Tony nod at the door but did hear it open. I look up to see a young girl, with a different wardrobe then the others. She smiles kindly at me as she sits next to Wanda.

"Hi, my name is Shuri. I am from Wakanda and I can help you remember." I just stare at her.

"How long will this take?" I ask quietly.

"Depends on the damage they have caused for you to forget everything. Could be a few days, weeks, months. If you have trigger words. We will make.."

"Trigger words? What does that mean?" I interrupt her.

"Words that change you into a different person. Like they did witht he winter soldier. When we got the files from the base you were held in, shows you do have some." Tony says to me.

"Oh, so then I guess we should start this thing." I tell them. They did not expect me to say that.

They step out of my cell and start to say 6 words in Russian.

"девять- nine"

"машина-car"

"цветок-flower"

At this word I started to feel a crawling sensation run across my skin. I started to blink rapidly, my vision was getting foggy.

"слива-plum"

"банан-banana"

Now I'm rolling my shoulders, flexing my hands, shaking my head. That crawling sensation is getting thicker, heavier.

"рок-rock"

Once that last word was said I stand up, look at them with a blank expression, and cock my head to the side a little. "готов подчиниться- ready to comply."

They ready the words and I am me again. Well the shell of me that I know. I sit on the bed and take deep breaths. I did not like the feeling of having no control.

They watch me before they leave me alone for a little bit. I don't remember those words but it felt like my body did and it hurt badly.

As i sit and then pace and sit again for I don't know how long, everyone else is in the common area trying to figure out what to do next.

"Her words are different from Bucky's, why?" Same asks as they watch me in my cell.

"They made the words unique for that person. Hers are more girly because she is a girl and what she likes. They make it so only one person gets triggered and not all at once." Bucky says with a frown.

As they continue to talk and see the next step. I am going a little crazy in my cell. I started to throw everything that I could, I tried breaking the walls, the floor. I was screaming, crying, and bleeding. No one knew of my powers because it was not put in any files. So when I fall to my knees and scream everything shuts down and I pass out.

Once the lights were out, they were up and running to my cell. As people in the building were trying to get the power back on.

When they get to me I was laying on the floor and covered in some weird goo. That started right as I hit the floor. Bruce went to check if I was okay and when he tried to check my pulse he got shocked. He steps away and goes to the others.

"This is not in her file, didnt show if she had powers or not. Why would they do that?" Natasha says as the nurses come in hazmat suits.

"Because she is more dangerous then we thought." Steve says sadly.

*********

That is part 1. Possibly a part two.

#bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #the avengers #bucky barnes imagine #marvel

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evakcardamom · 3 years

Text

(Sorry in advance for any misspellings, keep in mind that I’m Norwegian so English is not my first language. Besides it’s been a long day and I’m quite tired at the moment so my brain gets a bit foggy)

Today it is four years since I met Tarjei and David for the first time! (I’ve only met David once, but met Tarjei twice in total)I still remember the day like it was yesterday.

I had been in a facebook group for skam fans for quite some time and had decided to step out of my comfort zone and meet up with a bunch of other fans at Ett Bord, and then later at a place called «Dattera Til Hagen» (I think it was called).

We had only been at Ett Bord for a little while when Siv (Henrik Holm’s mom) came to us and told us that she had a surprise for us. She said that Henrik could unfortunately not be there himself, but she had another surprise visit for us.

At Ett Bord it is several benches around a long table (or it was as Ett Bord ended up having to close down due to covid) and I were seated with my back against the wall, facing the windows. I felt an excitement around the table and as I turned around I looked straight at TARJEI!

I couldn’t believe my own two eyes, felt my heart skip a beat and I’m sure I must have had my jaw on my toes!

For a few seconds I were not sure if he were actually there right in front of me! I don’t remember exactly but I think I managed to stutter a «hello» through all the emotions going through my body.

A few minutes later I noticed David standing by the counter, and I got shocked all over again! He said hello from where he were standing.

(They had another friend with them as well, but I don’t remember his name at the moment)

With us at Ett Bord were another Skam fan that had come all the way from Korea (I think) and she had this book with drawings that she’s been drawing. She talked to Tarjei for a while after he had said hello to us, and all the time I were like sitting there thinking «did this actually happen, or am I dreaming?»

After a while the boys went outside to the long table outside of Ett Bord.

I were thinking that it would be so amazing to be able to take a photo with David and Tarjei, but I didn’t know if I would even dare to or if I would be too starstrucked.

Some of us were debating whether or not we should go outside and ask for a photo, and after a while we went out.

At first we took a group photo, with all of us in it (I won’t post it due to privacy) and then we stood in line to get a photo with the boys by ourselves.

I were the last one in line and it seemed like David were about to wal away when I asked if I could please get a photo too. They said yes and as the photo were taken I think that the only word I managed to get out were athank you»

That day is one of the best days in my entire life! I did not only get to know tons of beautiful human beings through SKAM, but I also got to meet Tarjei and David!

#tarjeisandvikmoe #tarjei sandvik moe #davidstakston #david stakston

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det-loki · 3 years

Text

poison & wine part four

And you will destroy anyone who would try to harm her

But what happens when karma turns right around to bite you?

warnings: angst, cursing

pairing: detective loki x fem reader

word count: 3,000

A/N: I don't know why I struggled with this chapter so much but I did. I finally got it to a place that makes me happy though. Again, feedback is welcomed. Enjoy! 💕

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You woke up feeling like death. Your brain was pounding against your skull, eyes sore, body aching, screaming for you to rest. You had no time to rest though. You sprawl your arm, reaching to the opposite side of the bed to hopefully find Loki but to no surprise, it was already vacant and cold. You rolled over to the bedside table, glancing at the clock, 5:46 A.M. You've got to be fucking kidding me.

You stumbled blindly into the kitchen, your feet still heavy with sleep. Every step you took, your body screamed at you to lay back down, stars floating across your vision. You found David sitting at the kitchen table in his work clothes, sitting in silence, rigid. As you walked closer, you took notice of what was in his hands. A photo album.

You almost collapsed on the spot, knees wanting to give out on you, your breath catching on your throat as you inhale sharply. Tears prick your eyes and your lip quivers as you step closer to David and the photo album.

Reaching David, you lay a shaking hand on his shoulder, not daring to peer at whatever photo he was looking at. You knew which photo album it was, the bright pink making your brain foggy, the album stood out like a sore thumb in the minimal gray of the kitchen. You knew if you saw any of the pictures you wouldn't be able to get out of bed for a month. David jumps slightly at your touch, snapping the album closed, a hand coming up to wipe away tears that had fallen down his face.

You moved from standing behind him to sit next to him, your hands finding each other as you sat down in the wooden chair, your body sighing in relief at the position.

"What are you doing, Loke?" Your voice came out as a rasp, crackling and chipping, sounding like sandpaper, disturbing the silence in the kitchen. Your voice sounded as broken as you felt.

"I needed to see her. Remember what we're fighting for. I-I was starting to lose her, her- I was starting to forget what she looked like. What kind of father is that, huh? What kind of father does that make me?" Loki's voice was rough with emotion, each word was a knife through your heart. He was the best father to your little girl, she had him wrapped around her finger since the day she was born. He was soft and tender with her, terrified of breaking her. After finding out you were pregnant, Loki went on a spiral of how he couldn't be a father, he didn’t know how. His childhood was nowhere near ideal, in and out of foster homes and juvenile detentions, his parents a figment of his imagination. He said he couldn’t be good and decent, claiming he was broken and corrupt. The first ultrasound appointment snapped him out of it, tears welled up in his eyes as the sound of your baby's heartbeat filled the room, his hand intertwined tightly with yours. There wasn’t a thing in the world he wouldn’t do for her, the line didn’t exist. You knew somewhere in that photo album there was a picture of him with a pink crown on his head as your little girl was in his arms laughing. The memory caused a fresh wave of pain to hit you.

"That makes you a grieving father who is in pain, Loki. Don't- please don't do this to yourself. She wouldn't want that for you. Or for either of us." The last thing you wanted was for David to fall down the spiraling hole of self-hatred. You could barely keep your head above water and you didn’t want him to drown with you. He deserved better.

"I know. I know. I just miss her. So fucking much, Y/N." David’s voice broke, crackling like static on a radio.

"I know." There was nothing else to say, your brain was a jumbled mess, thoughts not making sense. You knew.

"I went to her grave last week. I wasn't planning on it, I just ended up there. I'm sorry for not telling you, but it felt like something I needed to do alone. And then this fucking case, it doesn't feel real, it can't be a coincidence. It's like the universe knew." His words didn’t upset you, if anything it made you happy, he hadn’t visited her in a long time, he just wasn’t ready and you didn’t want to force him. You visited her regularly, in hopes to apologize or make things right, you didn’t know. The fact that he went made your heart warm temporarily, the cold would creep back in again eventually.

"David, I'm not mad at you for visiting our daughter. I think that's good. I just- this case is eating us alive. We have to make it out of this alive, promise me we will." You needed to hear it, your ears, and heart desperate for a lifeline. Desperate for a life to come back to after this case ended. If it ever did.

“We will. I promise you we will.” David brought your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it, brushing over the small black ink of a snake on your middle finger. You hoped he was right.

Hours later, you sat at your desk reading over the autopsy report of the man found in the priest’s basement. Nothing. Your phone rang loudly in front of you. It was David. You pick it up, nestling it between your ear and shoulder as you reread the report.

“Hey, I’m out here at a house on Fairmount Circle, the house the RV was parked in front of. It’s only been on the market a couple of months. I’m gonna track the owners down, see if they know anything. You got any new info on that corpse we found in the priest’s basement?”

You sighed into the phone, “No DNA, dental or fingerprint matches.”

“Nothing.” David replied in a monotonous tone, sounding fine, a stark difference than he was this morning. He was compartmentalizing, a little too well. You hated it when he did that.

“Priest is sticking to the story, too.” You had gotten report from a fellow detective who took the case, informing you about the priest’s questioning.

Loki scoffed into the phone, frustrated, “All right.”

You look up from your computer to see David walk into the station, walking to his desk opposite from yours. He sat down and immediately started typing. A few minutes pass before he looks over, eyes finding your hunched form, “Come here.”

You rose from your desk, your vision exploding with stars as you made your way over, leaving over his shoulder to read whatever he had been looking at.

The headline read: “Conyers Boy Disappears” dated August 31st, 1987. Barry Milland, age seven when he went missing from his family home.

David spoke below you, “ Let’s go.” You already knew where you were going, to contact the mother of still missing Barry.

You stood in the living room of Mrs. Milland’s home, Loki next to you as she sat in a recliner in front of a TV playing an old home video of Barry. Your fingers dug into your thigh and Loki’s hand was clamped over his mouth, the universe was playing with you, the tape that was playing was mocking the both of you, teasing you for the fact that you have done the very same thing as she was doing now, clutching onto the last good memories.

“Same person who took him took those girls. I’m sure of it.” Mrs. Milland’s voice shook with age as she spoke, eyes never leaving the screen.

The tape temporarily faltered, screen going static before returning to normal, “Wearing out the tape, I guess. I watch it every day after breakfast. It’s the only video I have of him.” She sighs before continuing, “It was before your time. 26 years ago, August 19th. I took a nap in the afternoon, and when I woke up Barry was gone. No one could ever tell me what happened to him. He was playing in the front yard, just a few feet from where they sat that RV was parked.”

God, you wanted to scream. Playing in the front yard and then gone. You were familiar with the pain and shame in her voice, you felt the very same thing every single day.

She speaks again, ripping you away from your thoughts, “What do you think that means?”

Loki raised his eyebrows, shaking his head as he looked at the carpeted ground, “I’m more interested in what you think that means.”

She shook her head, eyes still trained on the screen, “I don’t think we’ll ever know. It’s just like Barry. No one took them. Nothing happened. They’re just gone.”

You bit your lip so hard you tasted blood, fingers digging harder into the jean covered flesh of your thigh. Gone.

You and Loki sat in the car silently, digesting what you had been told by Mrs. Milland.

"Why are we doing this, David?" You weren’t referring to where you were, rather than what you were. How you got to this point in your life, why?

"What? Here?” David looked at you, confused.

"No. This. This job. This case. Is it to avenge her? Justice? Bring peace to other families like we couldn't have? I love my job, don't get me wrong, but I can't but help but question why is it this case? Why us?” You looked out the car window as you spoke, not catching David’s gaze.

"I don't know. I don't know, but we will get through this. I'm here, Y/N.” There was never a moment David wasn’t there for you, and vice-versa. You both knew each other better than you knew yourselves, able to take care of each other better than you could take care of yourself.

Loki’s phone buzzing in the cup holder made you jump, the bubble that had formed popping, David grabbing for the phone, reading whatever text he had been sent, “We might have something with the priest.”

You stood in the hallway, awaiting Detective Chemelinski to escort you to the priest’s interrogation room as David shifted his weight nervously. The fellow detective showed up, motioning for David to follow. Loki looked at you with mild panic in his eyes, silently pleading for you to follow. He didn’t want to face the priest alone. The memories would be too toxic for him to face without you. You nodded your head reassuringly, following David and Detective Chemelinski into the interrogation room Father Patrick Dunn was being held in.

Loki walked in first, you next, and Chemelinski last. You leaned against the wall as Loki greeted Dunn, “How you doin’, Father?”

“I’m...I’m- getting better.” Father Dunn avoided eye contact with everyone, eyes set on the table in front of him.

Loki sat across from him, “So Detective Chemelinski tells me that you have some specifics about the crime you claim that guy committed. The abductor.”

The priest nodded, “He was...waging a war against God.”

Loki chuckled, looking over at Chemelinski in disbelief and shaking his head, “Great. That’s great. I thought you said he had something specific.” Loki continued to shake his head, stammering at the other detective and gesturing in disbelief in front of him with his hands.

Detective Chemelinski looked at Father Dunn, “Tell him how he took the kids.” If it wasn’t for David wanting you in the room, you would have avoided the conversation, rather having the information relayed than point-blank. This was too raw, images of Loki in the boy’s home feeling like a white hot poker in your brain.

“He said...he took them in the daylight.” You swore you were going to pass out, your hands beginning to tremble at your sides. You wished you were stronger, able to do your job without feeling like you were going to die from the constant resurfacing of horrific memories of your little girl. Broad daylight. Screaming.

Why were you doing this?

The priest continued, “Sometimes...more than one child at a time.”

Loki rolled his eyes, “He said that?” The priest nodded. “-Did he say he was with anybody? He did it alone?”

“He...he said he had a family.”

Loki sighed, “That’s it?” The priest nodded again. Loki stood from the chair, shaking his head at Detective Chemelinski, “All right.” He walked to the door, tattooed hand on the handle, glaring at the detective, “Informative.” He walked out, leaving you to briefly apologize to Chemelinski before you ran to find David.

You found him in the locker room, sitting on the bench with his head in his hands.

You approached him slowly, “Hey, you okay?” It was a stupid question, of course he wasn’t okay. Neither of you were okay.

He looked up at you with tired eyes, “Yeah, I’m fine. I just needed a minute. The candlelight vigil is tonight if you wanna go.”

“I do. It’d be nice.” He nodded along with your words, you turned around and walked out of the room to give Loki sometime to himself. Sometimes silence could be healing, yet you didn’t think all of the silence in the world could heal these wounds.

You stood in front of the microwave watching your mug of coffee spin in circles. Coffee was now the main staple of your diet. It was late at the station, you and Loki being the only few still left. The temperature had dropped outside rapidly, leaving a chill in the air. Loki was outside turning the car on so it would be heating up as you poured coffee in a thermos.

You walked outside with thermos in hand, pulling your coat tighter as the wind bit through your coat. Loki was already inside the vehicle, waiting for you. You opened the passenger door, plopping down as the thermos sat at your feet.

“You sure you wanna go to this thing?” Loki asked gingerly.

“Yeah. Do you not?”

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to. If you’re not up for it we can go home. I don’t want you to push yourself.” Loki spoke softly as not to disturb the ambiance inside the vehicle.

“I’m okay, David. I promise. It’ll be nice, show our respect, it’s not like we have to stay long.”

David nodded as he put the car in gear, pulling out of the police station parking lot.

Loki pulled up to the vigil, outside of the Dover’s home. A group of people had already gathered, lighting candles, placing flowers, and teddy bears.

You and David leaned against the car, watching in sorrow. You saw Franklin Birch double over, sobbing as his family held him. Your heart broke at the sight, you wished nothing more than to bring his daughter back unharmed. Each passing day caused unease to spread further and further in your body, day four setting a new record of turmoil.

Time passed as people started to leave, the group diminishing slightly. Beside you, Loki put on a stocking cap and rubbed his hands together for warmth. He still refused to wear gloves. He abruptly pushed himself off the car, walking closer to the vigil, obviously taking notice of something you didn’t. You walked next to him slowly, unsure of what exactly he was doing. Then you saw it, a man crouched down with his coat hood up, stroking a teddy bear that had been placed, his gloved hand gliding over it in a manner that made you uncomfortable. He looked up, locking eyes with Loki, and then stood up stiffly, Loki’s eyes following every move. The man glanced at you and then turned away. Loki walked closer, trying to trail him as the man continued walking away. You had an inkling that he was going to run, so you turned around towards the car as Loki made his way through the crowd.

Looking over your shoulder, you saw David take off in a dead sprint. Fuck.

You opened the driver’s side door of the car and sat down, grabbing the radio from the console.

“Dispatch, this is 13-43, we have a police pursuit on foot, 13-40 is responding. ”

The radio crackled to life, “10-4 detective, we have patrol rolling your way.”

“10-4” You sat the radio down, now all you had to do was wait for Loki to either come back or for him to call you to come get him.

30 minutes later, Loki came into view, slightly limping. He walked up to the car as you got out of the driver’s seat, “You should have stretched.”

Loki shrugged past you, “Yeah, fuck off. Now get out of my spot.”

You chuckled slightly as you walked around the car and pulled the door open and sat in your designated spot. Loki grabbed for the radio with his non-dominant hand, “Dispatch, this is 13-40. Pursuit has ended, the offender fled. Put a BOLO out, description will be given by an officer.”

Loki sighed heavily as he put the radio down, hand coming up to rub his right shoulder, “What happened, David?”

“The fucker jumped on me from a tree. I’m fine.” You rolled your eyes, Loki could be mauled by a bear and thrown into the ocean and he would still say he was fine. He was even more stubborn than you.

You got home that night at 2 A.M., going to the station after the vigil for David to write up a media release on the guy that ran and to give a description. You tried to get David to let you look at his shoulder but he refused, claiming he was fine, even when moving it he winced slightly.

That night you slept restlessly, dreams of hospitals and antiseptic haunting you. Making you question everything.

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