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#they were just. so happy. to see them. and gave them love that they never really had
russellsppttemplates · 13 hours
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A red thread tying you to me (Charles Leclerc)
There was something pulling you to him and Charles was ready to act on it
Note: english is not my first language. I loved the blurb and now we have a big piece too!
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Tw: mentions the death of reader's father's and Charles' father's deaths
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3
"The congress is just outside of Milan, the exact city and details are in there", your colleague Lucia offered as she flickered though the pages, "I've been a couple of times before and it's really enriching, I just know you'll love the students and the department head - she was my supervisor for a couple of years".
"It sounds great", you looked at the panel information and then the travel details, "it's such a shame you can't come with me though, but I also wouldn't want to risk your little dude showing up and have me as your midwife", you chuckled as Lucia rubbed her baby bump.
"You're capable of many things, Y/N, but I would prefer if the fate of my baby and my underparts was in the hands of a professional!", she bumped your shoulder, "and the area is really nice too, I'm sure you'll find something to keep you busy during the weekend".
"I have plans, actually, I'll be fine I think", you smiled.
Like Lucia predicted, you had a great time in the conference and the guest lecture you gave was applauded and discussed for nearly an hour after you showed the last slide of the presentation, topics going back and forth until everyone had to absolutely leave the room before the next lecture began. For now, you'd get to enjoy the region, drinking some wine and taking in the views you recognised.
The park where your father used to take you didn't look too different. The slides didn't look rusty anymore, and the swing was a bright red colour as you sat on it once you didn't see any other kid around who might want to use them and let yourself feel the breeze on your face and hair as you kicked your legs in and out. Your father used to make you feel like you could touch the sky with how high he helped you go, "you're going to touch the clouds, mia piccola stella", he would say and you would laugh loudly.
You missed him every single day, but over the years, your grief allowed you remember all of the happy moments you lived with him, cherishing them close to your heart. Spending the whole weekend in Monza and attending the race was something you hadn't done without him since he passed away. The circuit was your father's favourite - "it's the fans, Y/N, there's a thrill in the air that no other circuit has - Tifosi cover the streets, they're all you can see around town and it's magical almost" he would say to you, so when you noticed the conference was in the area and coincided with the Grand Prix weekend, both you and your mother agreed you should take the opportunity.
On your way back to the hotel, you stopped by the track, wondering what the preparations for a race weekend looked like after so many years. You still followed the sport, but you never got the chance to catch this on television.
"Oh my, oh my", you heard someone say beside where you were standing, "I can't believe my eyes, it's Y/N Y/L/N".
Turning around you spotted Salvatore, one of the mechanics your father worked with. He also had kids around your age and you would often play together whenever you were both in the garage for the weekend.
"Salvatore!", you cheered, giving him a big smile after kissing each of his cheeks, "you better believe your eyes then".
"It's been so long since I've seen you last", he recalled, rubbing your back softly. You and your mother had gone to Maranello for a tribute ceremony the team had for your father - that had been the last time he saw you.
"It has been, yes - I'm sorry", you apoligised. You told the team you'd be around and so much had happened since and you only watched it through a screen instead of living it in the flesh.
"It's okay, it was the time you needed - What brought you to Monza this weekend?", he wondered as he walked inside the paddock with you, scanning his card and getting you both in.
"A work trip actually - I finished a conference yesterday and I also gave a lecture at the university", you nodded, "and my father always loved Monza", you smiled at the memory, "he knew how cliché that sounded, but he always said there wasn't a better weekend on the calendar. And I've missed the rush, too", you offered, letting the tears flow freely and accepting them even though you were in the middle of the paddock, loud noises coming from every angle as the teams prepared the finishing touches for the upcoming race.
"He's very proud of you, I'm sure", Salvatore comforted, "and everyone will be happy to see you here - the little girl with the high pigtails is a grown woman now who attends conferences and gives lectures, who would've known?", he joked as you stepped inside the garage.
"Is this little troublemaker Y/N Y/L/N?", one of the oldest mechanics said after he applied a sticker to the halo.
When your father took you to the races, everyone knew they had fun guaranteed with you, always pulling pranks and laughing loudly, "my troublemaker days are over, I'm a responsible woman now", you chuckled, giving a quick wave to everyone before greeting everyone individually.
"Do you have tickets for this weekend?", Fred asked. Even though he had just met you, it was clear to him how much you mattered to everyone who worked with your father, "we can get you a pass, I'm sure".
"I have grandstand tickets", you stated.
"Silvia!", the team principal called the woman, making her approach him and rub your arm kindly, "do we have any guest passes left?".
"Let me check", Silvia mumbled, "we have one left, actually! Charles didn't even notice he asked us to save a ticket for his mother twice - I'll get it for you, it's in the meeting room upstairs", she smiled.
"Charles will also be very happy to see you around, did you tell him you were coming?", Salvatore mentioned.
"I haven't actually - I've been really busy", you mumbled.
You met the monégasque driver when he was Scuderia Ferrari's development driver and Prema Racing driver in Formula Two, accidentally running into him in the dining area of the hospitality and ending up spending most of his free time there throughout the whole weekend.
Quickly, it became a tradition to do so whenever he was over and whenever he was done with his Formula Two duties and you happened to be at the same track.
When you stopped attending races because the memories were too painful, you lost contact, opting to react to eachother's Instagram stories every now and again and sending quick messages through the social media app.
"The boys arrive today, but they're only coming to the track tomorrow", Fred added, "you'll have plenty of time to catch up".
Charles had finally arrived to the hotel after all the flights and drives, thankful that there weren't many fans around already and he could get inside without a hitch, checking in and getting his room keys.
"Hold it, per favore!", he said to the person on the lift, dreaming of the changing from his travel outfit and the bed waiting for him. When his hand helped him inside the metal door, he couldn't believe his eyes, "Y/N?".
He could remember the last time he saw you. He had just started his first season as a Formula One driver for Alfa Romeo and you had come back to the paddock for the first race of the season like you promised you would. He sat with you whenever he had a little break, you caught up with him and his early days as a driver with a seat rather than just watching from the sidelines.
"Charles, hi!", you gasped, hugging him and feeling him squeeze your body against his.
"I- what are you doing here? Are you here for the race?", he wondered. This couldn't be a mere coincidence. He hoped it wasn't.
"I had a work trip here that coincided with this weekend, and I thought of it as a sign", you explained, "you're staying in this hotel too?".
"Yes, the team are at the one where we usually stay for the weekend, but until Thursday, I'm staying here, yes", he smiled, "Goodness, I feel like it's both been forever and like it was yesterday", he chuckled, "do you want to get a drink? I have a nice selection in my room whenever I stay", he offered.
"I'd love to, Charles", you said, hoping that the tingly feeling on your tummy mirrored Charles' own excitement at this unexpected but valued encounter, "are you sure though? You just arrived".
"No, don't worry about that! My room is... 705", he checked on the card he was handed, "so you can join me now or maybe you want to set those things down first and meet me there?", he pointed to the bag you were carrying.
"Yes, this is quite heavy actually", you blushed, "my room is on this floor, so I'll meet in your room in fifteen? I need to freshen up because I've been walking around town all day".
Leaving the elevator on your floor, Charles waved at your before the doors closed andyou headed to your door. Stepping inside, you left the totebag with the books you bought in the chair before heading to the bathroom, brushing out any tangles in your hair and splashing your face with water to freshen up.
After getting yourself ready to go, you went up to Charles' floor, knocking on the door and waiting for him.
"Come in, come in!", Charles offered after he opened the door, "I've unpacked but kept it very organised still", he chuckled as you walked inside the room. It looked the same as yours did, only a different colour pallette for the decoration.
"How have you been?", you wondered once you sat down and shared some sparkling water, neither of you really feeling like drinking anything alcoholic.
"You surely know more about me than I know about you", Charles smiled, "but it's been good, this season has been great so far, I feel like we're in a really good path and things are working well", he took a sip from his cup, "the team have done such an incredible job".
"And the driver on the car doesn't have anything to do with that?", you squinted at his ever so modest take on things.
"I suppose I do", he blushed.
"I may have not been here, but I've watched every race - minus some of the ones at daft o'clock, I only watched those when my sleep was all messed up", you joked, "you're an essential part of this team, Charles, everyone can see that so you should give yourself more credit", you touched his arm.
Even though it had been years since you last saw eachother, you hit it off immediately and it seemed like no time had passed.
"And you? What is this work trip that brought you here?", Charles nodded.
"You're not the only one who gets to travel for work, alright?", you tsked, "I had to do a presentation on a conference and then the department invited me for a lecture, nothing big".
"Who's being ever so modest now, hm? That is fantastic, mon ange!", he congratulated before he noticed the words coming out of his mouth.
"When I noticed it fell around this weekend, I told my mum and she said that I should try and dip my foot here - I've been wanting to come to race sooner but...", you trailed off.
"I get it - it's hard going to the places that remind you of them", Charles took his hand in yours and squeezed it, "he was so cherished by the team, I'm sure everyone will be very happy to see you".
"Actually, I walked to the track today so I could see it up close before the race - I hoped it wouldn't be such a big shock once I got there on Friday -, and I bumped into Salvatore", you smiled, "he let me go into the garage and I saw everyone, it was really nice", you looked up so the tears on your eyes wouldn't fall.
"I can get you a pass, let me just text Silvia!", Charles said as he got his phone from his pocket with his free hand.
"She already did", you chirped, "apparently you booked two for your mother, so they had a spare one".
"You see, a couple of years ago, my mum was too late to tell me she was coming to the race and I was out of the guest passes, so I always have one on hold for her and I sent the list with her name on it as well", he admitted, "but it seems to have turned out just fine - meant to be even".
You ended up requesting room service for the two of you for dinner, neither feeling like going out of the room after feeling so comfortable there. Conversation was steady, vulnerability was easy to show and the butterflies were happily dancing on your tummy.
"I better get to my room, then", you stated once Charles told you about what he needed to do tomorrow once he was at the track.
"I didn't mean it that way - I'm fine!", he said after doing his best attempt at containing a big yawn, "I'm fine!".
"You're tired, and frankly so am I", you admitted as you got up from the bed.
"Would you like to come with me to the track tomorrow? If you don't have other plans that is", he mumbled the last part.
"I don't - I was just going to work a little bit, but if you find me a spot in the hospitality, I'll happily take my stuff there", you smiled reassuringly as you put on your shoes and headed to the door.
"I can take you to your room", Charles got up from the bed and followed you.
"No need, my room is just downstairs", you reasoned, kissing his cheek in a silent thank you still.
"That's right - so we'll go tomorrow after breakfast?", he rested his body on the door once you opened it.
"Yes, that works for me! Good night, Charles", you smiled before walking up to the elevator.
.
Walking inside the hospitalitynwith Salvatore and the rest of the team, he was quick to show you where you could set up.
"Charles likes to spend as much time as possible with the fans and it's right about now that they start becoming more and more and they're everywhere, too", he explained as he helped you in the table on the lounge area, "there's food and coffee in there if you need anything", Salvatore smiled, "if you need anything, just ask someone".
"Thank you - this is perfect", you assured, sitting down and working on your laptop and reading some of the books you had bought.
Charles and Carlos finally arrived at the hospitality, greeting the team and talking to them for a while before they headed upstairs for a meeting.
"You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend and you were bringing her here", Carlos told Charles as he poured some coffee on a mug after the meeting.
"I don't - I haven't brought a girlfriend here", Charles quirked an eyebrow at his team-mate.
"So who is that young woman you just smiled at and are pouring coffee for after giving her the heart eyes?", it was the spanish driver's turn to raise his eyebrows.
"Oh, Y/N!", Charles smiled as he mentioned your name, "she's an old friend! Her father was a mechanic before he passed away a few years ago - the older team members have known her since she was little, everyone loves her", he mused.
"Everyone loves her - I can see that", Carlos chuckled as he followed Charles to the table.
"We don't want to interrupt or disturb you too much", Charles announced as he set the mug next to your laptop.
"It's fine, sit sit!", you encouraged as you closed the books you no longer needed to make room for them, "I'm Y/N", you told Carlos.
"I'm Carlos", he smiled back, "nice to meet you", he said before you dove into conversation, discussing anything that popped into your minds and getting to know eachother.
"Don't let her fool you into believing she has always been a responsible, put together girl because she used to steal and hide all of our tools!", Antonio, one of the engineers pointed at you after he got himself a bottle of water, "Charles knows her tricks already but you, Carlos, don't fall for that!".
"You loved it every time I was on the computers and drew on Paint! You even had one of my drawings as the background for almost an entire season!", you threw at him as he approached you, patting the top of your head protectively.
"I'd like to see that! I've only known her since she was way older", Charles pouted.
"Jealous much?", Carlos teased, his voice above a whisper as Charles seemed to get flustered.
"Is it really that obvious?", the monégasque driver mumbled once you got up to get something to eat, "I've had a crush on her since I was a development driver".
"Why have you never said anything? She seems like she really cares about you too", Carlos mused as he thought to a few moments before where you too gqve him heart eyes. He would have to be blind to not notice it, and even then the energy between you too would still be felt.
"The timing wasn't right, I guess - her father passed away almost right after as I became a driver for Alfa Romeo, and she hasn't been in the paddock since. We have texted every now and again over the years and now she happened to be here for the race too", Charles offered.
"I'd say you should take a shot - trust me, she likes you back", Carlos patted Charles' shoulder after getting up, watching you go back to the table with a big smile on your face.
.
After Charles took pole position in qualifying, the team stayed a bit longer for the debrief, going over a few points of the discussion and the changes they still needed to make before the race.
"Y/N! We're having dinner at one of our favourite restaurants in town and I'm counting you in, okay?", Charles said as he spotted you in the garage, followed by Andrea, who had been keeping you company along with his brothers, Charlotte and Pascale.
"Your family is here for you, Charles, I don't want to intrude", you said as you got up, unaware of the Leclerc matriarch behind you.
"Chérie, of course you won't be intruding - we'd love to have you there!", Pascale chirped in.
"Well, in that case...!", you smiled, "just tell me where I should go and at what time, or are we going straight there?", you wondered.
"I was thinking we could go straight there if that's okay with you - you can can come with me and Andrea can ride with my brothers", Charles suggested, "unless you need to go back to the hotel", he quickly scrambled.
"No, I'm fine! Unless this outfit is not restaurant appropriate", you muttered as you looked down. Against all odds, you managed to not get any food stains on your dress. It was a midi skirt cut, flowy to allow your body to feel cool considering the warm Italian day.
"It's fine - you're fine, you look beautiful!", Charles was quick to assure you.
"Good, that's good then", you smiled before excusing yourself to go and get your things.
"You have to tell her, Charles - your affection is no use to either of you if you keept it in here", Pascale tapped her son's chest.
.
"Y/N", Charles called you before he had to go and get ready for the race, "I have something for you - we do", he said as some of the mechanics, including Salvatore, followed him.
"Oh, what is it?", you smiled.
"We commented with some guys back at the factory that you were here with is this weekend and they found something we thought you'd like to have", Salvatore said as he handed you a bag.
Looking inside, you noticed an old Ferrari cap and some embroidered lettering on the side, recognising it immediately. When you were a teenager, you decided to try different hobbies and hand embroidery was the one that stuck the most, so much so that on one of the race weekends, you embroidered caps for everyone on the team that asked you.
"My wife remembered the one I have at home and then the guys at Maranello found your father's and apparently one you did for Charles' as well", Salvatore offered as you took them both out.
"Dad always said he had plenty of embroidered things at home and this one was the one he had to travel with him", you chuckled as tears welled up in your eyes, feeling Charles soothingly rub your back.
"I remember getting this and loving it - I thought I had lost it!", Charles said, unaware if how close he was pulling you together so he could get a peek at the old caps.
"There's some loose string here", you chuckled, wiping the tears and fiddling with the red thread, "I didn't know how to properly tie it at the start, I kept losing it - I think I even glued it down at some point. Thank you for bringing this out", you smiled.
"Would you mind if I wore this for the driver's parade?", Charles asked you.
"I was planning on wearing my dad's while I watched the race", you offered, testing the fabric and placing it on your head before doing the same with Charles, fixing it on his head and looking up at him.
You never got over how handsome he was. The little scar on his cheek, his mole, the smile that never failed to make you smile, his beautiful green eyes. His kindness, his gentleness, his talent - there wasn't a way to deny how much you liked it. How much you liked him.
"We will be matching then!", Charles squeezed you against him before going to his driver's room.
Only when Charles was headed to take P1 on the grid did he hand the cap back to Salvatore and put on his helmet, giving you a wink before he left.
"How are you feeling?", Pascale asked as she sat next to you to watch the race. Over the last couple of days, she had grown close to you, not only because you had captured her son's heart and she wanted to get to know you, but also because Charles had told her how emotionally charged it was for you to be at the track, in Monza nonetheless.
"It's a lot", you admitted, "everyone has been so kind and warm, so all of the heavy feelings have been slowly infiltrating the good ones and it's been easier to deal with them like that", you blinked away a few tears.
"I get it", Pascale nodded, "losing someone is not easy, and I can't imagine what it feels like for you - the boys and I talk about my late husband every now and again and it gets easier to talk about it, I think that's what it is anyway".
"Yes, definitely like that. My mum and I have reached the point where we don't cry at every mention - despite what you might have noticed this weekend", you chuckled.
"It's emotional, chérie - I, for one, always cry whenever the boys achieve their goals. Hervé isn't here to see them, but I know he knows, and the boys know how proud he is of them", Pascale smiled, keeping some tears at bay too.
"You raised amazing young men, don't doubt that", you let out. At this point, you were sure she had noticed or had at least an inkling. As any mechanic for the red team who knew you since you were a kid would say, you were never a good liar - anytime you said you didn't touch something, they knew to look in your backpack first.
"Thank you, dear", she added, "you know, Charles is quite careful in who he lets in, but he's never been good at hiding how much he cares about someone and I can tell he cares a great deal about you".
"I care a lot about him too", you smiled before you were handed a pair of headphones each with the race about to start.
When Charles successfully kept the cars behind him away with a good gap, you clapped and watched the remaining laps number get smaller and smaller until there was only the current lap left.
Charlotte held your hand together with hers as you watched Charles be the first driver to see the checkered flag and when Xavi yelled "And P1!" into the radio, you did your happy dance, not having a care in the world about what others thought as you watched the Tifosi erupt in cheer.
"He did it! He did it!", Pascale clapped for her son, Arthur hugging her while Lorenzo did the same with his girlfriend while you softly touched your father's embroidered name on your cap with your fingers.
Running up to Parc Fermé, you stood in the sea of red, waiting for him to come back and hug them.
"You did so well, congratulations!", you said as you pulled Charles for a hug.
"Had my good luck charm with me!", he smiled back, kissing your cheek as he took advantage of you being shielded by the mechanics and engineers.
The team celebratory dinner was going really well, everyone happy with how the weekend panned out with both drivers on the podium and enjoying the meal on the restaurant's outside patio.
"If you guys want dessert, they're going to set them out on that table and you can grab as much as you like", Fred spread the message as you could see all kinds of sweet foods being brought out, a pudding catching your eye along with some raspberries.
You and Charles got the dessert plates and served yourselves, noticing the staff was already clearing up the tables, meaning you'd have to move to the bar area, many people opting to skip dessert and get some drinks instead.
"You can see the stars so clearly tonight", you mused as you looked up at the sky, setting your plate on the high table.
"My father always said that the stars did shine brighter here, and tonight the sky is very clear", Charles hummed in agreement, looking at your face. The moonlight and the dim lighting for the lamps and fairy lights illuminated all your features perfectly - your smile as you looked up formed the dimples on your cheeks, your eyes that were a tiny bit squinty and the way your whole body seemed relaxed.
The goosebumps on your arms caught his eye though, "here, have this", Charles said as he offered you the cardigan he had carried around all night since according to him his mother made him do it because it would be cold.
"Thanks", you smiled as you pulled the sleeves and folded them around your wrist so they would fit better, "this is really comfy, I might steal this if you don't ask for it back", you joked.
"I don't mind if you keep it, you have had my heart all these years", Charles stated. There it was.
"What?", you faced him, heart beating fast inside your chest.
"It's true, I've had a crush on you since I first met you, and these past couple of days have been amazing, and I can't believe it took me all these years to realize how I truly feel about you Y/N", he told you, no stutter or sign of regret on his face.
"I haven't been around, really, it's my fault", you fiddled with your thumbs before looking at him again, "but I can't lose you again".
"You never lost me, amour", he smiled as his eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips, his hand cupping your cheek your mouth pressed on his, ignoring everything and everyone around you.
Interrupting the kiss for air, Charles giggled as you hid your face in his neck once you heard the cheers and whistles, your lashes tickling him as his arms circled your waist and pulled you closer to him.
"He wins inside the track and outside of it, Charles Leclerc, P1 to Y/N's heart!", Carlos shouted before whistling again.
"Just so you know, I want an invite to your wedding!", Salvatore pointed his finger at you, "I still remember when you invited me for your wedding with Vettel!".
"You and Seb?", Charles chuckled once you pulled away from his neck.
"Sebastian was my favourite when I was little", you giggled, hiding your face on Charles' chest this time, "when he was back in RedBull still, I asked my father to ask him if he could take a photo with me and I cherished that for so many years - it was my most prized possession!".
"I can't promise you Seb, but I can promise you the very best of me", Charles said as he kissed the top of your head.
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egonspenglerishot · 3 days
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request if you are still doing them, Egon sees reader babysitting Oscar after coming back to the station from a bust and is absolutely in love with their parental energy. He thinks how good they would be looking after their own kids.
Oh
My
God
Yes
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Baby Fever
You were walking around the firehouse gently bouncing Oscar on your hip. Dana had called in a favour as she’d had to stay late at the orchestra for the all night performance. Naturally, you agreed, you loved little Oscar, how he was always curious and really really happy to see you and Egon almost all of the time. You cooed at him and rubbed his back, he was refusing to settle and it was worrying you. You tried everything, his bottle, his pacifer, even singing. You weren’t the world’s worst, you could hold a melody atleast.
You’d lost track of time and the guys were already back from their night time busts. The most recent had taken it out of all of them, and they were all covered in ectoplasm. You sat on Egons bed and held Oscar close. It’s like he knew they were back, and not from the smell. His eyes were latched onto the bedroom door waiting for Egon. That’s when it cracked in your mind that Oscar had wanted to wait for Egon to get home. A small smile spread on your face “he’ll be here in a moment why don’t we settle down okay?” He seemed to be calmer and more at ease now, letting you lay down with him resting on your chest. Within a few seconds he was fast asleep and you yourself were close to falling asleep. The bedroom door opened and the four men stumbled in tired beyond belief.
Egon smiled gently seeing you and Oscar on his bed, but something inside him switched when he realized how close you and Oscar were. You were always so motherly to him, you were always so sweet and kind, it made him want children of his own with you. Egon tries telling himself children would just hinder the ghostbusters, or they’d grow up without a dad, but every time he saw you with Oscar in your arms, it made his heart swell and beat a little faster. He sighed and took his glasses off putting them on his bedside before getting into bed with you and Oscar. You shifted in your sleep and held Oscar close as Egon snuggled up to you, his heart beating faster. He was never good with emotion, his parents rarely gave him any attention.
But every little kiss or nuzzle from you made his heart swell. His mind drifted to his bedside table where he was keeping the ring. Maybe in the future you two would marry, you’d have children of your own, hell you could maybe become a ghostbuster like him, then you could alternate between looking after your children. Egon smiled sleepily and kissed your forehead before he fell asleep.
Peter and Ray looked at each other and Peter smirked “someone has baby fever”
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Text
Change the Narrative
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If people knew the truth, they would call her a selfish monster.
But Katara had sacrificed anything for the world, for an ungrateful husband!
This time she would always choose herself first!
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Here is a little one-shot of my anger about what happened to Katara in canon.
I want to give her the end she deserves, so I hope you enjoy it!
Katara knew it was time for her to die.
She felt it in her old bones.
Alone she lay in her bed at the South Pole and watched how the snow was falling.
At least she would die seeing the beauty of her homeland.
It was a good death.
The old woman blinked tears away and tried to be positive about her nearing death.
She would see Sokka, her father, her mother and Gran-Gran again.
It was good.
She had lived a long happy life.
Something burning and unsettling spread through her chest as she thought this.
Was it a happy life?
How often did she and Aang argue over simple things?
How often did she beg him not to play favourites with Tenzin? Yes, their youngest was an airbender, but what about Bumi and Kya? They were his children too.
But no!
The Air Nomad legacy was more important than their two oldest children and their pain.
Once upon a time when she was a young girl and fantasized about the man and family one day she would have, she never would have guessed how she became the kind of mother, who didn't fight for her children.
Who didn't call out her husband for his wrongdoings?
However, she had so with Aang. Since she had met him, she always had mothered him, shielded him from things which didn't fit his narrative.
He was the Avatar, the only hope to end the war, with a track record of running away.
They couldn't lose him, so she had protected him the best she could.
And she did so to her children.
No wonder Bumi and Kya didn't even visit her and Tenzin didn't have much of a relationship with her.
Where did she go wrong in her life?
When did she become a shadow of herself in the name of love?
Why did she even choose Aang?
Was it because of Aunt Wu's prediction, she would marry a powerful bender or because she had a feeling Aang...deserved her?
He loved her and had ended the war.
Was it so bad to give him a chance?
Sadly after sacrificing her best years for him and being rewarded to die alone without her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren around her, it may have been the most stupid decision she ever made.
Spirits, was she a bad person to think that?
She loved her family, really she did, but deep down she had to admit...she wouldn't do it a second time.
Katara wouldn't sacrifice herself, her ideals, and her dreams for Aang's dream.
She had her whole life given and given and was now at the end of it rewarded with nothing.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, as she slowly closed her eyes.
Soon she would join her loved ones...
Just...
If she could...
If the spirits were so kind...
If dear Yue heard her...
She wanted a second chance.
She wanted to live a life for herself and herself alone.
Katara had given in this life all and more...was it so bad that she wished for a second chance to get it this time right?
Was she selfish?
Maybe.
Surely.
But anyone had a point in their life where they had to put themselves first.
Her only regret was that she did not realise it sooner.
Katara closed her eyes and felt the last beats of her heart.
Never noting how the moon was shining brightly down at her...
***
She felt pain in her head.
Katara hissed and touched her forehead.
Why did she get a headache?
Where was she?
She blinked to banish the shadows before her eyes.
Slowly she could see.
Ah yes.
She was outside General Iroh's tea shop in Ba Sing Se.
The waterbender had seen Aang walk out and wanted to join him.
It was high time that she gave Aang her answer about them being a couple.
She had been unsure a few days ago, but now with the war over...why shouldn't she give him a chance?
He was standing at the balustrade watching the setting sun, it was the perfect moment.
As the waterbender made her first step towards him, an avalanche of emotions and vision filled her whole being.
Katara gasped quietly, trying to make sense of this.
It was too fast and also too slow...however, she felt it in her bones...whatever she had planned kissing Aang and getting together with him...it would be the worst decision of her life!
No, she didn't want what she had seen.
How could she sell herself, her principals, and her honour for a guy?!
How could she be together with someone who would play favourites with their children?!
No, absolutely not!
Whether this was a vision from the future to save her from this faith Katara didn't know, but what she knew she wouldn't make the same mistakes twice!
So angry she walked up to Aang and tapped his shoulder.
The Avatar turned smiling towards her. He seemed so happy and hopeful and looked at her like she had hung the stars and the moon.
For a second she flatter, which only made the vision come forth again and made her anger tenfold.
Oh no!
Not with her!
"Aang.", she began. "I don't love you and I never will! Stop pestering me about us being a couple! If you don't accept my feelings I will waterwhip you do your next incarnation, do you understand me?!"
To say he was shocked was the understatement of the century. She could formally see the heartbreak in his eyes and how he tried to speak up, maybe to guilt trip her, however, she wasn't having anything of it.
"Nothing you will say and do will ever change my mind! So don't even try. I will go back with Sokka to the South Pole and rebuild my home. That's where I belong!"
Dramatically she turned around and entered the tea shop again.
The others tried their hardest to seem like they hadn't listened in, yet Katara saw through them.
She sends them all an annoyed look.
"What?!"
No one said anything for a few seconds before Toph snickered: "Oh sugar queen, I hoped you had it in you."
This makes Katara smile.
***
The next months of her life Katara rebuilt with her father and Sokka their home. 
The Nothern Watertribe had tried to turn the South into a second North, except Katara was having none of it.
As a war hero, master waterbender and daughter of the chief she used all her power to stop this chances.
She was a force of nature!
No one had a chance against her.
Her family was so proud of her and she was satisfied with herself.
Yes, this was where she belonged.
Helping people and not being the soulless, passionless arm candy of Aang!
Katara was happy.
A voice inside her told her how she deserved it.
***
A year later found Katara as ambassador for her people at the first peace summit.
She was happy seeing Zuko again, they had written to each other, yet seeing each other in person was much better.
He had become her best friend.
And her wall against Aang.
As Avatar he was at the peace summit too. Of course, he tried to talk with her. Tried to sway her, saying he missed her and wanted to be friends again.
She saw right through him. Aang still wanted her.
Thank the spirits for Zuko having her back and distracting Aang.
When they enjoyed together a cup of tea in General Iroh's tea shop she thanked him for his help.
Awkwardly he waved it away.
It was nothing.
He and Mai had broken up and the black-haired girl wasn't happy about it.
Even if she and Aang weren't exes, Zuko knew how frustrating it was to have a person follow you like a shadow and demand to be together again.
In comfort, she petted Zuko's hand and told him he did the right thing to end things with Mai.
If she couldn't accept a no was she a good girlfriend?
A little crooked smile formed on Zuko's lips, and her heart stopped for a second, as he thanked her for her words and friendships.
Then he asked her to join him in the search for his mother.
***
Being with Zuko on a life-changing field trip again was... exciting.
They still worked flawlessly together, like when they had hunted down the murder of her mother, but now they were friends.
It changed a lot of interactions.
They were playful with each other.
Zuko was the only one who ever laughed at her jokes.
They were there for each other.
In the long days when they hunted down one clue after another and Zuko seemed to lose hope, Katara reminded him to never give up.
They shared the workload.
It was amazing not mothering someone and having someone help her around camp.
They were getting closer to each other.
They shared things they never told anyone.
Zuko told her how he got his scar and Katara hugged him, wishing Aang had killed Ozai.
Wishing Ozai was before her and making him pay for hurting her best friend!
Sometimes they just stared at the stars, inventing constellations, their hands inching closer.
Something new was born between them.
Katara didn't know what it was, but she would enjoy it.
It made her feel good.
After weeks on the road, they finally found Ursa.
And also a society of hiding airbenders.
Katara couldn't help but laugh in utter glee.
***
Was it really that surprising that Katara and Zuko fell in love with each other after their journey?
When she kissed Zuko for the first time, it was like coming home. 
Warm, welcome, familair, intim.
It was the best sensation in the world.
Something inside her told her this was how it was supposed to be.
After two years of dating and being the ambassador of the Southern Water Tribe in the Fire Nation, they married.
All their friends and half of the world were invited.
Yes, even Aang.
Aang was so grateful to Katara and Zuko for having found his people and was busy with the air nomads to rebuild their society, and seemed to finally let go of Katara.
Now they really could be friends.
***
Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, master bender, war hero and Fire Lady became a living legend.
Not only the people in the Fire Nation adored her, but she used the power she wielded to make the whole world a better place.
She was the one who came up with the idea of Republic City, a place where all nations could live in harmony.
She revolutionized the art of healing with her bloodbending.
She installed fountains and aqueducts everywhere she could, so people had clean water.
Statues were built and universities, streets even neighbourhoods were named in her honour.
Katara taught new generations of waterbenders like her daughter Kya and people formally fought over to learn from the Fire Lady.
When their oldest daughter Izumi became Fire Lady, Katara and Zuko retired to Ember Island to live out their twilight years in peace.
They often had visits from their friends and families.
Their son Lu Ten, a nonbender, had married a waterbender named Mizuki and had with her five children.
So the proud grandparents helped their son and daughter-in-law raise the rascals.
It was fulfilling.
As Aang then died and was reborn as Korra from the Southern Water Tribe Katara and Zuko moved to the South to teach the new Avatar.
Korra loved Katara and Zuko like grandparents and loved hearing about their adventures.
After Korra goes to Republic City to learn airbending from one of Aang's sons he had with one of the hiding airbenders, the pair returns to Ember Island.
Zuko died a few months before her.
Katara followed him after the birth of their third great-grandchild.
Both died surrounded by their big and bustling family.
As Katara died, her oldest great-granddaughter, who was named after her held her hand, she couldn't help but feel happy.
She had lived a long and wonderful life.
Soon she would be together again with her beloved husband and her family.
And so the greatest and most beloved Fire Lady died in peace with no regrets in her heart, her story being told for thousands of years to come.
***
The Legend of Katara became a tale which young girls loved.
From a simple waterbender to a master, war hero and ruler over a nation, who changed the world only a few ever could.
It showed all girls, that they could do anything they wanted.
They could reach their goals and go even beyond.
This was Katara's legacy.
As it should have been.
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If you liked this one-shot and want more Zutara, a badass OC, personal growth for Aang and the Gaang being amazing check out Yin and Yang! 
Click on my profile and leave a comment.
I hope you liked this little One-Shot!
Let’s now scream together in the comment section how Katara deserved better and if it’s not canon we will give it to her in fanon! :D
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atopvisenyashill · 3 days
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Catelyn's resentment at always having to adhere to men is not talked about enough in my opinion. When she bitterly thinks that she always did her duty. When she thinks about having to wait for the men in her life. When she snaps that Robb did not her consider his sisters important enough. When she laments that no one sings songs of the battles of women aka childbirth and children.... Yes she conforms because she is realistic and pragmatic and dutiful and she wants to survive and be happy enough and she wants the same for her daughters.
YES EXACTLY. I think it’s like. For so long she conformed because it was realistic pragmatic dutiful, because being a perfect lady and heir made things easier on her parents, and she loved her parents, she wanted them to he proud, and it turned out she was GOOD at so many of the things they asked of her, and it gave her the ability to be in charge of herself and her life for so long, and when minisa died, she could help lift the burden off her father’s shoulders, and it gave her the ability to grow and speak her mind, and being dutiful brought her ned, who was so much more than she ever thought she’d get, and it brought her five amazing children, and a home she loves and can be free in - like jon snow thing does suck but compare this situation to like upwards of 90% of the marriages & you know what it’s a fucking dream and Catelyn knows this, she is aware things can always be worse, it’s why she understands immediately why jon & lysa were doomed from the start, she understands this system and how it works, and it’s worked so well for her she can ignore the ways it has hurt her.
And then it just. Completely fails her. She’s tricked by Lysa and Petyr, the two people she’d least expect it from that she never even entertains the idea, Ned is murdered, Sansa is a hostage, Arya is just gone, Bran has been nearly murdered twice, and she’s in her childhood home and Hoster is dying and Edmure is annoying and Blackfish is off fighting again and she’s reliving the worst days of her life but this time the person waging war isn’t a husband she doesn’t know, it’s her own son and she just can’t stop thinking about how she’s done everything right, she’s played by the rules her whole life, she upheld the social contract because it promised she’d have control over her life, and then the whole thing just completely fails because joffrey has a tantrum after petyr whispered in his ear, AGAIN, just another mad king with power hungry advisors, and she’s stuck in this room AGAIN-
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AND SHE DOES.
like, that’s what happens, is she spends her whole life doing what she’s supposed to and then it crumbles down around her and she just figures, fuck it, if following the rules can’t do the one (1) most important thing it has to do which is keep my family alive than i’m not following shit anymore. she starts to just do what she thinks is best. starts to snap back. starts to just speak without being asked. like, she’s cracking, she’s breaking up, YEAH she’s still dutiful, but what is she being dutiful TOWARDS? is she doing what robb says? what edmure says? NO, she’s making her OWN DECISIONS she’s trying. and then people will see her become a literal undead spirit of rage and revenge and be like “she’s so dutiful and never struggles or chafes against the patriarchy” when she struggled and screamed so much at the ending she was clawing her own face to ribbons!!
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Hey! Hope your having a good day! If you want to, could you do a story where a supervillain typically goes easy on a group of rookie heroes, as he usually fights them just for fun, and could destroy them if he wanted.
He just lets them think they can beat him.
Then, something happens (maybe they cross a line, and one of the heroes tries to stop their team from crossing that line but they don't listen) where the supervillain shows them just how powerful he actually is?
Sure. Do you mind if we stop for ice cream?
*
A Taste of Revenge
“You’ll never get away with this!” yelled one of the three Heroes from afar.
Supervillain smiled and just waved at them while flames and energy beams hit his forcefield without leaving a scratch. It was, in fact, the third time this month he was getting away with this.
The heroes were all new, of course. The town was too little for the closest hero agency to care about what was happening here, so they’d only sent their three youngest. Sometimes they popped in while he was minding his business. They always thought they’d found a way to break through his defenses, and were always wrong. He didn’t care much, amused by these three overgrown teenagers who were looking equally embarrassed and proud of their muscles, trying to speak loud to cover their awkwardness. There was no use hurting them. The hero agency would have sent someone competent in their place. If Supervillain was only mildly inconvenienced by them, and they were convinced to gloriously fight against evil, everyone was happy.
It was sunset. There was no time to sleep before another night’s work, but enough to take a break. Supervillain went home, put his citizen clothes on, called his cat who jumped on his shoulders, and went in his favorite ice cream shop. Coincidentally, it had a magnificent view on the shiny new heroes headquarters.
The door bell rang. The shop owner raised her head and smiled at him. He was a usual customer.
“Hello, Citizen.”
“Hello, sir. Hello to you two,” she added, nodding politely to his pet.
Supervillain smiled in return. To make sure he wouldn’t be ever recognized, he’d gotten a cat. Mister Whiskers was more than happy to follow him in his ice cream adventures, especially since Supervillain was the one who walked for them both. People asked to pet the kitty sometimes, but never gave his face a second glance.
“What will you take, sir?”
Supervillain pondered for a moment, answering then:
“When I was eight, my mother took me to see the ocean for the first time. I want three scoops of that memory flavor in a cup, please.”
“Right away, sir.”
She took a cup that she filled three times with white ice cream, then gently set her opened palms over it and closed her eyes. The scoops changed into a lovely turquoise. Mister Whiskers mewed with anticipation, opening and closing his mouth.
“And for the cat?”
“A kid scoop of Oyster-Caviar, lactose-free.”
She gave his orders to him. Supervillain thanked her and settled in his usual corner. While Mister Whiskers ate his own treat like he hadn’t already eaten thrice today, Supervillain took his time, glazing by the window. For the Heroes headquarters, it was the end of the day. Secretaries were pouring down the establishment. He looked at them with interest, wondering how many people was needed to manage three baby heroes. Sometimes they went in the ice cream shop, looking harassed, not giving him a second look. They never stayed long. It was just enough for him to memorize their faces and note their schedules.
Supervillain bit his lip to hide his smile when he saw the Heroic Trio getting out of the agency, their faces crumpled. Every time he saw them by the window, he wondered what would happen if they were coming here. Today, he realized that he was going to find out. After pausing, all three opened the door and went into the line that had been forming.
Supervillain took a spoonful of ice cream. It melted on his mouth as lightly as foam. It was a flavor of pure joy, with an aftertaste of melancholy. These holidays had not lasted long. Why rush his break, then? He was more than convinced that he wouldn’t get noticed, and if he was, well, that was too bad for the customers. Most of them didn’t linger anyway. They thanked Citizen and went out, hastily eating out outside, maybe because the Heroic Trio grumbled louder and louder about the wait. The line went down quickly until the moment a little boy asked for a cone.
“I can make all the flavors you want in the world, young man,” said Citizen. “Every memory, every feeling, every object, the weather, time itself, everything has a taste.”
The little boy thought long and hard, reading out loud the suggestions. After fifteen minutes, he made his choice:
“Chocolate.”
Ignoring the loud groans behind, he was about to merrily go out, when one of the heroes caught him by the shirt:
“You haven’t paid, kid.”
“She gives it to me for free,” explained the boy, pointing at Citizen.
“Really? Why is that?”
The kid shrugged, licking his cone.
“Sometimes, I do the dishes.”
“He’s right,” intervened the shop owner. “He’s done nothing wrong, let him go.”
Hero released the kid, who went away trotting and licking his prize, and turned back to the owner with a frowning face:
“What sort of business are you running here?”
Citizen raised an eyebrow:
“I don’t understand.”
“Do you see these suits, ma’am?”
“Well, yes-”
“That means we’re heroes. He-roes, you understand? We protect you all day, putting our lives in danger for you. We’ve just escaped the most dangerous criminal of this town. We’d like to give us a little respect.”
“But I didn’t-”
“You made us wait to indulge a kid who can take anything he wants? It’s bad business practice. Terrible, even. How can you make profits like that? It’s a wonder this shop is still open.”
The three heroes towering over her, the woman tried to look at Supervillain, the only customer remaining, but he avoided his gaze. He wasn’t about to blow his cover for that. Furthermore, Mister Whiskers had finished his cup and was now interested in Supervillain’s ice cream. He put it away, but as he avoided the cat’s insistent paws, he was still listening to the conversation, quietly readjusting his perception of his self-proclaimed foes. Kids they were, but bullies are of every age. He heard them making their choice (one Nova scoop, two Oncoming Storm scoops, one First Prize cup), and refusing to pay.
“ If you give free food to the bloody kid, I think you can afford to give us a free pass, too.”
The shop owner made the effort to laugh, throwing her red braid off her shoulder.
“You have a good sense of humor,” she said politely.
“I’m not joking.”
Ah, thought Supervillain, there you go. Citizen raised her tone, but they laughed at her:
“What are you going to do, use your power?”
“That’s not our fault if all you can do is ice-cream flavor', said another. “I’m sorry you can’t be a Hero, but not everyone is born equal, don’t take it on us.”
Supervillain stared at his blue ice cream melting, waiting for the shop seller to burst in tears and give in. That didn’t happen. Instead, she clenched her fists and said:
“I am more useful than you.”
The booming laughter of the Heroic trio filled the room, but the shop owner was fed up. She hit the counter with her little hand and yelled, covering their voices:
“I feed children who are hungry. I give people the taste of things they’ve forgotten and can’t have otherwise. I give people shelter when they need it. You’ve just set foot in the neighborhood and do nothing but cause property damage. I am the better Hero. Now get out of my shop.”
The laughs died out. With a stony face, one of the heroes went behind the counter, pushing her away, and took their orders by force.
“Keep telling yourself that,” he said.
The doorbell rang when they left. A heavy silence fell.
The shop seller rocked slightly on her heels, burying her face in her hands. Supervillain looked at her, then at his now melted ice cream. His mom had offered him to see the ocean to cheer him up. He remembered why, too. Because of the day before. A school day. A bitter taste in his mouth. The wall behind his back. Kids with frowning looks and mocking smiles.
“Forcefield is not even a real power.”
“You’re so uncool.”
“What can you do, uh? Hiding like the coward you are?”
Supervillain sighed, shaking his head. No, that wouldn’t do at all.
He stood up, holding out a handkerchief to the ice cream seller. She took it without looking at him. While she blew her nose, he turned his eyes towards the Hero headquarters, looking at the Heroic Trio walking away.
“They’re kids,” he said. “They don’t know a lot of things.”
“That doesn’t give them an excuse to-”
“I know. They have no respect for powers that aren’t flashy enough for them. They’re the kind of people thinking that forcefields are for defense only.”
He smiled. All the windows on the first floor of the Hero headquarters exploded.
People screamed in the streets. The Heroic Trio came back running despite the glass shards flying, trying to localize the culprit.
“They have no imagination,” he explained pleasantly at the shop owner, who was looking at the scene with wide eyes. “They don’t know how impenetrable shields that can be projected from everywhere could be used otherwise.”
He glanced at the building now cut in two, shaking his head:
“I mean, how can they realize that this kind of shield could pierce any matter like a knife through hot butter?”
The heroes wanted to rush towards the headquarters, but bounced back. The forceshield was now covering the whole building, slightly buzzing. It didn’t stop there. It got tighter and tighter until the walls cracked and collapsed under the pressure.
“People inside-” squeaked Citizen.
“It’s the end of the day, my dear.”
The heroic trio was running around, getting people away, swearing and not knowing what to do. The forcefield didn’t vanish until the building was in ruins. Only then Supervillain turned towards the show owner. She flinched hard, but he only pulled out his wallet.
“Now, how much do we owe you?”
*
Back to the Hero x Villain Masterlist.
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xoxoavenger · 1 day
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! 🎁🎈🎂🎉🎊 I loved Try Me (Matt Murdock x Reader), I was wondering if maybe you could write a sequel? I could see an intimate moment where she’s feeding him the soup she made and taking care of him, potentially with the hilarity of Foggy finding out he’s got two super powered friends
thanks! hopefully this is what you were looking for, I had fun writing it!
Ask Me
pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader
word count: 1099
warnings: none
part 1
birthday masterlist main masterlist
"I can't believe you're Daredevil." She mutters as she ladles the soup into a bowl. She made a broth more than a soup because she didn't have time to cut the vegetables, but it'll do the trick. She also didn't know the extent of Matt's injures, and she didn't want him to have trouble eating anything. "Does Foggy know?" She asks as she brings the bowl over to the couch.
"Yes," Matt chuckles, but his teeth are clenched in pain. She kneels next to the couch and she is still shocked by his injuries, even though she's already seen them. He has a large cut across his chest, and resists the urge to touch it.
She watches Matt try to sit up, but he's clearly in too much pain. She puts the soup on the ground in favor of helping him up. She tries not to let her pulse rush as she touches his bare back and bicep, pulling him up gently until he is sitting up enough to eat.
"Here, let's get you some food." She tells him, spooning some broth and then carefully helping him eat some. It's so quiet in the apartment that she swears she can feel her own heart race as she feeds Matt. They're close, and her brain is reeling with the thought of how Matt, and blind man, can be a vigilante.
"I think that's good." Matt groans when they're about three fourths of the way though the bowl. She gets up to put the bowl away and grab a warm, wet cloth.
"How are you Daredevil?" She asks, sinking down to her knees again and beginning to wipe off the blood around his wounds.
"Are you asking if I'm actually blind?" He questions, but he's smiling, so she can tell he's joking. 
"I know you're blind, Matt." She says with a small sigh. She's seen his unfocused eyes too many times to think he was just preteneding. 
"All my other senses are heightened." He tells her, tensing as she begins to wipe a big, deep cut. She hopes that soon her healing food will kick in; she's never seen it help on this level, and she's worried it won't work as well as Matt is hoping it will.
"So, you can hear really good?" She asks, wondering what exactly that means. He shrugs, smiling a little bit.
"And smell, and taste. And feel. I have to have specific sheets because of how sensitive my skin is." He's feeling better, she can tell, and it makes her smile.
"How did figure it out?" She asks quietly. She's had these powers ever since she can remember, but she'd never told anyone and no one ever figured it out either. This is a first, sharing a gift, and she can't help but feel a little scared.
"That your food could heal people?" He clarifies. She almost nods, but then catches herself.
"Yeah," She confirms.
"You asked me what happened again the day after you first gave me the croissant, as if you knew it should have gone away. And I usually have accelerated healing anyway, but not that fast. You wouldn't have known that." He's starting to relax more, and she knows he needs to get some sleep soon.
"You wanna move to the bed?" She asks, putting the cloth down and preparing to move him. Before he can answer, Foggy comes stomping back in.
"So both of my best friends are super heroes?" He yells, throwing the drugstore bag in their general direction. Y/N's eyes widen as Foggy walks to them.
"I am not a super hero." Y/N clarifies.
"I wouldn't classify myself as one either." Matt interjects, a hand out to stop Foggy's rant. It does nothing, and Foggy soldiers on.
"You can feel, hear, and smell things no human should be able to feel, hear, and smell." He points at Matt, who raises an eyebrow. "And you can heal people with your food, that you've been feeding me for months!" Foggy moves to Y/N, and she just shakes her head.
"Have you ever wondered why you haven't gotten sick in months?" She asks, and he just scoffs.
"That proves my point!" He screams. Y/N and Matt shake their heads, Matt smirking.
"Foggy, neither of us are superheroes. You don't need to freak out." Matt tries to calm him down, but Foggy just gets more worked up.
"Are you kidding me? You could be Avengers for all I know!" Foggy grabs the bag that he had thrown and begins to get some of the bandages and Neosporin out to help Matt.
"Oh my God," Y/N groans, rolling her eyes and putting her head in her hands. Honestly, Foggy freaking out was kinda funny, but she isn't sure if he's being serious now or not.
"We're not Avengers, Foggy." Matt chuckles, and Y/N begins to put bandages over Matt's injuries.
"Well I just don't know that, do I?" Foggy looks over at the pot on the stove, walking over there quickly. "What did you make?"
"Just a quick broth. I wanted to get Matt something quick." She tells Foggy as she begins to focus on the task at hand.
"Is this why I haven't gotten paper cuts?" Foggy asks as he ladles a little soup out for himself.
"It doesn't make you skin extra strong, Fog." Matt tells him as she continues bandaging him up. Her hands brushing his skin make Matt want to crawl out of his skin in a good way, which didn't make sense until this very moment.
"Did I hurt you?" Y/N asks softly when he tenses.
"No," He mutters, putting a hand on her wrist to stop her. "It's okay, I think the big ones are taken care of." He just wants to lay down and sleep it off now, but he wants to ask her one more thing.
"Let me help you to your room." She offers, and together, with him leaning on her, they make it to Matt's room.
"What are you doing tomorrow?" He asks as they sit down. He can feel the heat begin to flush her cheeks, her heart beginning to race. He's worried still that maybe she feels uncomfortable until she responds.
"Working." She thinks she's funny, and Matt chuckles.
"Do you want to go to Josie's with me tomorrow night?" He asks, and she ducks her head and smiles.
"As long as my boss lets me off on time." She says, nudging him with her shoulder.
"I'll talk to him." He tells her, both of them smiling hard enough that their cheeks hurt.
//
tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @thefandomplace  @mcueveryday @icequeen1371 @kenzi-woycehoski @multifandom-boss-bitch
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holly-opal · 18 hours
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Hello...I wanted to make a request that I don't know if it's something personal and I understand that you don't want to do it...but you could do a mr puzzle x helping a reader who suffers from hypersexuality... I will understand that if it may seem uncomfortable to you I won't force you to do it, I just want to feel comfortable with my favorite character
Of course, I am sorry if I do this wrong. I have never written hypersexuality before, so forgive me if I do this wrong.
Tw: Mildly sexual content. Implied SA.
You were walking to your dressing room when Mr. Puzzles went up to you, he put a hand on your shoulder and gave you a warm smile, he asked if you could see him in his office later today, he wanted to talk about something. You blushed and nodded, you have always liked Mr. Puzzles, you found him charming and quite the lovely person to be around, and he was very attractive for a man with a TV for a head, then your mind began to wander and you thought about the two of you together, in your bed hugging and kissing each other, and you two taking your clothes off.... You were doing that again. Thinking sexually about someone or wanting to do sexual things with someone. You felt disgusted with yourself, and thought that Mr. Puzzles wouldn't like that either. He'd probably tell you to piss off, like everyone else you had sexual encounters with. You followed him into his office and sat down in front of him, he offered you a cigarette, you declined. You were never one for smoking, your ex did though, and he was the one who hurt you. Made you do awful things with him. Harmed you in bed. You felt so gross for doing, and even more disgusted with yourself when you actually sorta liked it. He shrugged and blew some smoke, he seemed tense. "I'm going to get real with you, Y/N. I am not very happy with ratings. I am working so hard and yet I'm not getting good results. And production is going up in flames. Ugh..." Mr. Puzzles smoked some more, he was stressed, you had an idea on how to release it though. You got up from your chair and sat on his lap, he started blush and stare at you in surprise, you began to praise him for his good work and rubbed your hands on his chest.
Mr. Puzzles was touched by this, his face was beet red and he was starting to like it. But he see that you weren't doing this out of your own volition, he could tell that you weren't happy about this. He grabbed your wrists and put them away, you were afraid now, you didn't know what came over you, you expected him to get mad at you or throw you off of him or hit you. He didn't though, he picked up you and set you down on your feet. He sighed and kneeled down to your level, you began to tear up and look away from his gaze. He had seen this kind of behavior before, in television and in his actors. He gave you a very big hug, you started to cry and hugged him back. Those thoughts in your head were killing you. 'Your disgusting', 'nobody will love you if you keep doing that', 'your just like your ex, only worse'. You've heard these words before, but still, it kept repeating in your head multiple times. You were sobbing into Puzzle's shoulder, leaving a wet spot of where your tears went. Mr. Puzzles pulled away from the hug, ye was smiling at you, and he was patting you in the back.
"Mi amor, I know that you are hurting, but this isn't the right way to go. You don't have to give yourself to me so that I could feel better. I am not mad, but we need to work on your issues." You nodded, wiping away some tears with your sleeves. Mr. Puzzles grabbed a box of tissues and handed some to you, you blew your nose and threw it away. He stood up and held out his hand. "How about this? We'll both talk about safe outlets for your behavior, that way you won't get hurt by anyone. And then afterwards, we can go to dinner. How does that sound?" Mr. Puzzles asked. You smiled and nodded, you clearly needed to work through your issues, a nice talk and maybe even a therapist will help. You took his hand and you both walked out of his office, you felt relieved in a way. He did not judge you, and he even offered to help you, many would've just left you immediately. Your love for him deepened, and his love for you has not changed, you were still his little star.
(Again, I am sorry if I did this wrong. I hope this brings comfort to you, my friend.)
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baby-xemnas · 1 day
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I love so much that “Bepo is Law’s weakness” is arguably canon. It’s not “Law’s weakness is cute things” like some ppl in fandom try to say since Law is pretty visibly unaffected by Chopper, little kids, all the standard “cute things” in OP. It’s literally just Bepo and his cuteness that has an effect on Law, and we see it in reaction to Bepo going “🥺” when Bepo was sick, letting Bepo hug him all the time, taking Bepo to Uta concert only bc he knows Bepo wants to go, etc. LawBepo is such a perfect ship, massively underrated ship frfr 🩷🩷🩷🩷
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there is this very good compilation pic from @/daily_trafalgar on twitter with a caption "law's reaction to cute things"
you mean barely a reaction
and then there is Bepo
Bepo is special he is spoiled and coddled and can do anything he wants with barely a word from Law. i do think Law is good with kids but Bepo is a grown man - his best friend
and as much as some lawbepo non-shippers want to see them as parent and child -you dont see someone YOU grew up with. YOU were children at the same time with - and grew up alongside each other as a CHILD. You just don't see them as that, it's nonsense. Yes he is like law's little brother but not a child
(i call him Law's baby like 20 times a day but that's in a way that a cute girlfriend is "baby")
Saying all this to say that "oh Law is weak to Bepo's cuteness because he is like Law's baby" (implying child) or even worse = when people call him a pet They grew up together - 4 year difference is forgotten about -you are peers - yes of course Bepo is both subordinate and looks up to Law as an stronger smarter leader etc. but thats not a parental dynamic at all.
its a very serious, rational and collected guy and his favorite guy who he spoils in big and little ways and have been spoiling him their whole lives...
i love that Law saved Bepo from getting his ass beat and dying alone and brought him home and they just stayed in that dynamic their whole life and both became adults but this "Bepo is precious and weak af and i love him" pretty much didn't change.
and Bepo is so comfortable with it. novel was Law focused so it never gave Bepo an "I'LL TO PROVE MYSELF TO YOU THAT YOU DONT HAVE TO PROTECT ME ALL THE TIME I CAN HOLD MY OWN" arc - and that would make sense for his character if there was time/desire to focus on him but because of those constraints Bepo bypassed that and i kinda love it? (you can call it another of many copes of mine idc) but him NOT having a standart "little brother" arc is awesome, Bepo is very comfortable in his role and when he speaks its always
"I'll do my best for you and help where i can because you are so amazing" there is zero of his own ego. He is comfortable in his "lower rank" role, he doesn't strive to be Law's equal he knows he can't be! Law san is the greatest!!
Law is happy with it too because he is a protector in nature (look at his bigass crew ;-;♥) so bepo being HAPPY to be protected makes him happy too. It makes Law feel strong and good, it plays on his ego in a positive way being looked up to and sought out as a protector - yes it's pressure (that Bepo does his best to elevate) but it's not negative and Law takes it happily, it's good to feel needed. And it all started with Bepo and they preserved that - Law is always strong and cool leader and protector and Bepo is always UUUU CAPTAIN 🥺😭🥺😭🥺😭
they are the best and i love them so much it's such a special dynamic and it makes Law's character so much better
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Text
Could be just my delusions… most probably it is my delusions, but I couldn’t help but think about this. Buckle up, it’s story time and this is a long post. Part one.
In the story about the Snow Queen…
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… there is a mirror located in Hell that shows the worst in everyone who gazes upon it.
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The demons were curious to know what would God see if they were too look into the mirror, so they carried it into the sky, wanting to reach Heaven, only for it to slip their grasp far above the clouds and fall to the world. The mirror shattered into a million pieces.
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Shards ended up in people’s hearts, minds, eyes, making them see the world differently, changing the perspective.
Some saw the worst in others, and some saw the worst in themselves.
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The two young protagonists of the story were happy together as children, full of wonder, love, innocence and dreams in the beginning.
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But once the mirror shattered, they grew apart…
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Heartbroken and hurt by the world, seeing the worst, feeling the worst in people, Kai was taken by the Snow Queen.
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Manipulated and influenced by her heartless guidance, he grew cold and distant, so much so that all he loved gave up on him, on looking for him. The Snow Queen made him and everyone around him believe he never cared. They even believed he was dead.
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All but one…
Part 2
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deathmetalunicorn1 · 2 days
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OMG HIII, HALOOO 🦀 (that one silly video of that little crab waving at the camera. That's me)
I was invited to a wedding recently and I did cry because I'm friends with the bride and all, and it kind of got me thinking back home, how would our good ol' dads react to their daughter coming out in her wedding dress before the wedding? It'd be adorable, or emotional, perhaps? Who knows!
Dad characters: QSH, Shiva, Poseidon, Nikola, Hades and Jack + big sis Brunhilde because we love her in this household!
-This day was here much sooner than they were prepared for, seeing their precious Y/N being married, and they weren’t sure they were prepared just yet.
-They liked your fiancée, finding him respectful and more likeable than your other boyfriends you had in your past.
-However, now that this day was finally here, they were questioning if they should talk you out of it, which he was quick to curb, as he knew how happy you were. They weren’t going to dampen your happiness.
-When it got closer to, they got nervous, as you had asked them to walk you down the aisle, and you wanted to surprise them in your dress before the ceremony would start.
-Your voice called out to them, “(Favorite), are you there?” they responded back to you, “Yes-yes I’m here.” You smiled softly, hearing their slight stutter, showing that they were nervous, as you inhaled and stepped out from behind the curtain.
-Instantly in tears, a huge smile on his face, seeing you beaming at him, twirling like a fairy in your pretty dress as they stood, approaching you. Was in awe on how stunning you looked, cupping your cheek softly and pecking your forehead, “You look beautiful Y/N.” you smiled up at them, opening your arms for a hug which they instantly gave to you. Was proud to walk you down the aisle, feeling a sense of pride being at your side, knowing that you would be in good hands, or else.
            -Adam, Brunnhilde, Hades, Jack, and Qin Shi Huang
-Instantly ugly crying, holding his handkerchief to his eyes as he sobbed out, “MY BABY!!!” which made you laugh warmly as he couldn’t stand you looking so beautiful, gushing while sobbing loudly. You were several minutes late to the ceremony as you had to help calm him down, but you held his hand, and he could tell you were nervous too, which made him smile softly down at you, giving you words of encouragement.
            -Ares, Shiva, and Nikola
-His eyes went wide, mouth falling open just slightly as he was stunned, seeing you in your wedding dress. He knew that you were going to be stunning, but to see you there now, you looked like an angel, his little angel. He slowly stood and came over, a swell of pride filling his chest as he embraced you, “You may be getting married, but you’re always my little girl.” You smiled up at him, seeing tears threatening to fill his eyes, but never falling. He walked you down the aisle and threatened your fiancée one last time, whispering that if he hurt you, he was going to break him, which made your fiancée smile, knowing that was just how he showed he cared.
-Poseidon, Beelzebub, and Odin
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comicarc · 2 days
Text
𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬
Just a walk down memory lane. I just haven’t found many fics about Jason before he was killed, so I thought I’d write one.
wc: 1182
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My first memory of Jason was when I first met him in the alley. I was strolling down the streets at night naive and oblivious to the dangers surrounding me. It was one of the few times I was carefree and ignorant of consequences. I felt so happy walking down a puddle-filled sidewalk. Homeless people left and right, the road lined with potholes and men running around mugging people. In this part of Gotham, this would be the best it gets.
It was drizzling and I was only wearing a t-shirt and shorts. It’s almost never sunny in Gotham, but I was determined that today would be different. To my surprise, the day had been cloudless, but as evening approached the clouds began rolling in. Little me, holding on to the little hope I conjured, decided not to change or even grab a jacket before heading for my stroll.
By now I had managed to walk over five blocks to an alley. I heard laughter down the way and was curious enough, against my better judgment, to follow the voice. Nearing the origin of the voice I saw a boy about my age. He looked tired and beaten up, but his voice was full of pure joy. He wore a bright red, worn out hooded jacket. His jeans were tattered and his shoes had enormous holes in them. There was a small corner next to him with stacks of blankets and used pillows. Did he live here?
I walked up to him and asked, “What’s a boy like you doing out here laughing?”
“Can’t I laugh if I want to?” He retorted as he swung his body to face me. A knife pressed against my throat.
“I guess you can.” I gulped. I was not prepared for this to happen.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Just out of habit.”
“I guess it must be a daily occurrence if you’re used to doing this by now.”
“You wouldn’t believe how many psychos run around trying to rob a child.”
“I bet.”
“You shouldn’t be here. Not unless you want to meet people like me or want to get killed.”
“Maybe I like meeting people.”
He chuckles before nudging me to the opening of the alleyway. “Go home.”
He then proceeds to hand me his jacket seeing as I was shivering from the weather. I put it on after a few protests and he pulle the hood above my head. His touch felt rough but loving.
I was enchanted for a few minutes, staring deeply into his eyes until I replied, “Alright, but before I leave I want to know what to call my new friend.”
“Name’s Jason.”
“I’m y/n.” I said as I exited the alley and ran back home.
After that incident, I hung out with him in that alley all the time before he became Bruce Wayne’s ward. He became distant soon after he found a new family, but he still tried his best to wish me on my birthdays and congratulate me whenever I won or competed in competitions at Gotham High. I never realized it then, but his presence always lifted my spirits. Made me elated beyond comprehension. Without him, I don’t know what would have happened to me. 
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My favorite memory of him occurred as he attended a prestigious school around the time he was 18. We’d been distant lately, but I visited him every now and then. This night I decided I would go to his dorm and treat him to a night of relaxation. It was 9:00 pm, so he would most definitely have been awake, but when I arrived he didn’t open the door. After an hour or two of waiting, he finally greeted me and let me into his humble abode. Distraught by the reason why I had to wait so long, I questioned his whereabouts until he finally gave in.
“I was showering”
Completely flabbergasted I replied, “What the actual fuck Jason. Who takes showers for two hours?”
“Me.”
I laughed before taking the food I had brought out of the grocery bag and laying it out on his living room table. His body was definitely drenched, but not in water, rather sweat. I knew he was lying, but why? He was always sweet to me ever since we were kids. There was no reason for him to lie to me, he knows I would help through anything and accept all his endeavors happily.
Still, I wasn’t going to get mad over nothing, so as he proceeded to leave the room to bring blankets for us, I sat down and put on our favorite movie, My Bloody Valentine . When he comes back and sits on the couch I let him lie his head on my lap as we watch. The blankets cover Jason’s entire body and my legs, making the couch a makeshift bed and my lap a pillow. Unconsciously I begin stroking his head, and only realize it by the end of the movie. By then Jason had also fallen asleep. 
It was one of the few nights he seemed at peace. We were so close, and I gained that he truly felt the world of me by trusting me. More than anything it was the night I realized that I loved Jason.
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My most recent memory of him was the day he died. I was mad. No, I was absolutley furious. He never told me he was Robin. Did he not trust me? No, maybe he did it to protect me. Still, knowing would’ve been better than nothing. I had the right to know, not interfere but to at least know. Our relationship was longer than anyone else’s, and yet, he never trusted me enough to tell me something so important. Now he’s gone forever. I’ll never be able to hear his sweet words, bathe in his warmth, or even tell him that I love him. I will never have that opportunity again, all because of his damned crime fighting persona. 
Today, on his birthday, I sit on the couch, playing My Bloody Valentine , with a cake set in front of me. It reads, “Happy Birthday Jason!” with one lit candle in the dead center. I looked at the clock with puffed eyes. I had been crying the whole night, reminiscing on past memories of Jason.
Right when the clock struck twelve I heard a thud come from the balcony of my apartment. Since I was alone, I prepped myself to confront the intruder. Taking the closest weapon I could find, I begin heading to my balcony. Outside, the light breeze makes me shiver. Holding the weapon with two hands I slowly approach the shadowy figure at the corner of my balcony. As I near, I see him wearing cargo pants and a leather jacket. The figure begins walking towards me. At this point I’m scared out of my wits as he comes close. 
He pulls me into a hug before saying, “I’m sorry y/n. For everything.”
Confused and comforted at the same time, I question, “Jason?”
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piss-pumpkin · 2 days
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🍳Blasphemy and Boiled Eggs🪽
(Older)dipper pines x reader, chapter 16 of Douce amere, ~3.1k words Masterlist Prev
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Dipper Pines hates Bill. Dipper Pines loves Y/n. Those were two fundamental truths of his universe, two pillars of his psyche that so much of his mind was formed around. All the time he spent scared and angry because of what Bill had done, all the time he spent happy and pining because of you, it was the clearest line to draw for him, separating those ideas. But today, that line was blurry. 
You fell backwards, stumbling just slightly before hitting the ground, and Dipper didn’t have the strength to stand up and catch you. He barely had the strength to breathe. He laid on his back, heaving breath after breath as his eyes darted from your body, to the statue. Bill. From back when it happened. How did they even manage to do this. He could almost laugh. If anyone could fuck up this bad, it was you. He would probably laugh if he wasn’t in shock. 
The journal was left open on the ground beside you. He hadn’t even realized he let go. Fuck. He threw his head back onto the grass, and dug his palms into his eyes until his vision was blurry when he opened them. Holy shit. Holy fuck. Somehow, all at one, a million thoughts were running through his head, but not a single one was coherent. Vague panic, wanting to scream, heart pounding, caught in a vice. Fuck. Later. He had to deal with that later. 
Dipper sat up. Once more he looked at you, then at Bill. One and the same, now. He sighed, standing up on shaky legs, leaning on the top hat of the statue to get his balance. Better to move fast until you come too. 
He looked down at your body with a face contorted with emotions he never thought he’d feel again. He knelt, he hesitated, and then he heaved you up, with shaking arms carrying you like a princess. Back to the shack. Where bill can’t get in. Thank God for the unicorn hair. 
He trudged through the forest, often needing to break to set you down and rest. And the bruise on his wrist wasn’t helping much. On one of his breaks, he tiredly banged his head against a tree, any pain like that being a better alternative to… whatever he was feeling. His heart was beating like a hummingbird, but he had to put it all aside to get you to the shack, clutching you with white knuckles. 
How’d you even get in this situation? Did he even want to know? Your eyes were shut, he couldn’t see your pupils, and a shiver ran down his spine when he thought of the yellowish haze on your eyes. Yellow eyes. It’s summer, it shouldn’t be so cold.
How could you do this? How did this never come up? How could you have… he shook his head. As much as he knew Bill tricked people… you? Of all people. Had he not told you enough? Not what he was, what he looked like? He should’ve have. He should have. He could have. He had plenty the opportunity. To tell you what you needed, what could have saved you. Everyone. Fuck.
He reached the edge of the woods, and more than anything worried for you. Concussions weren’t good, and there was a solid chance he gave you one. It wasn’t good for you to be out cold like this. 
He tripped out of the forest, dropping you for a moment as he fell to his knees. Shit. He cradled your head as you both fell. Fuck. Keep it together. Just a little bit more. Don’t move the head. 
He got you to the shack, and stared at the door for a good minute. Then down at your face, still out like a light. He winced, and looked back in front of him. When he opened the door, he’d have to explain. He’d have to tell Ford everything, probably. He might know what to do. When Dipper opened the door, he’d have to be ready, get serious, and know what to. Deal with this… situation. He almost felt dizzy, his head spinning and getting light. But he couldn’t put you down to steady himself. Dipper sighed, his head halfway throbbing as he focused on breathing. Okay. He carefully maneuvered his carry of you, and opened the door.
Wendy and Soos said hello. Wendy was behind the till, feet up on the counter, and Soos was on the other side, dressed in his suit. They said hello, then then promptly realized that there was something wrong, with the both of you.
Dipper quickly handed you to Soos, and stumbled, leaning on a wall as the only thing keeping him up. The the trek through the woods felt like a hike across the world now. His legs were buckling, and Wendy offered her support. He leaned on her. They both had questions, most of which he didn’t want to answer, several of which he tuned out, his ears ringing and mind buzzing. Most asks though, they all had one answer in common. “Bill,” he sputtered. And Soos and Wendy went silent.
”But he’s gone,” Wendy said matter of factly. “Dipper, Ford erased him out of Stand mind.”
Dipper just shook his head, sweating, neatly all his weight resting on her. 
“Dude,” Soos managed, you still passed out in his arms. “Did he hurt them?”
Dipper shook his head again, and finally buckled under the weight, face contorting. “He’s in there,” he said shakily, nearly taking down Wendy with his poor balance as he pointed to you. “I had to…” he sputtered.
They looked at each other, then at the marks on Dippers wrist. Wendy sucked a breath in through barred teeth, “You should put ice on that,” she said, trying to prop him up. 
Her attempt wasn’t working, and Dipper was slowly sinking. Sighing, she decided to help him to the floor. Where there was nowhere left to fall. She shot Soos a look, a nod, and went to find one of the Stans.
Soos set you down and sat beside Dipper. He patted his back gently. “It’s okay, dude,” Soos sighed. “We’ll figure this out.”
Dipper grumbled, hiding his head in his hands. Y/n was still out. He must have hit them pretty hard with his journal. He wiped his eyes aggressively, seeing spots of greens and reds on his eyelids. “I don’t know how he’s back… or how I didn’t notice earlier,” he sputtered. 
Before Soos could say another word, both of the grunkles were bursting through the doorway. Mabel must have been out. Dipper could barely hear them. 
                                              …
When you woke up, it was with a throbbing headache. Before you could even open your eyes, you felt it, a dull ache accompanied by even duller pounding with every movement you made. It was cold, weirdly so for summer. You grumbled, shifting around on the… couch? The cushions you seemed to be resting on were soft, but worn, and you could feel the loose threads on your feet. 
You opened your eyes, and promptly froze. You were not alone. Ford always kept his basement rooms cold, made it easier to keep the turtle neck on in the summer. It was him that was pointing a gun at your head. Not just any gun, but one that looked held together by duct tape and a prayer, a makeshift invention thrown together on the fly. It showed in how Ford held it, not only by the handle but with a protective grip on the sides, as if that could stop it from falling apart. You swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. There was Ford and Stan. 
“Can you open your eyes all the way?” Ford asked cooly, the gun steady in his hands. 
You complied wordlessly, and slowly sat up. The moment he saw your pupils, the gun dropped, and he sighed in relief. He turned, and nodded to Stan, who walked tiredly to the elevator. Then you were alone. “Y/n, what exactly happened?” he asked, much kinder this time. 
You winced, and looked dejectedly at the floor. “I don’t know,” you sighed. 
“Can we start from the beginning?” He said, drawing your eyes back to him. He had a small and warm smile, doing his best surely. “When was the first time you met him… or, his statue, I guess?”
From the start. The very beginning. From when you saw the statue, to when you shook his hand, and when the nightmares started. Ford nodded along gravely, six fingers tapping against his cheek as he purses his lip or hummed with thought. Every last detail.
He stayed silent, pondering, even when you were finished, staring at the floor intently. You could practically see the cogs of his brain turning. You swallowed, ”So…?” 
“So,” he nodded, and sighed. “Are you okay?”
You wished he’d ask about Bill, or the situation, or a solution. Any of those were be easier to answer. “Well,” you started, scratching at your knuckles. Hmm. You sighed, and that seemed to be enough for Ford. He knew.
“I get it,” he sighed, crossing his arms, “We’ve all been there, Y/n, it’s alright.”
You winced, that was true too. At least you weren’t the only one. Or no, actually, it would be better if you were. Then at least you’d scare them less. “Is Dipper okay?”
Ford nodded, and a twitch of his cheek gave away that he was hiding something, “He’s fine.”
You waited, but Ford didn’t say anymore. Sighing, you clenched a fist, then released. Then pressed all your fingers to your palm, and released, cherishing the feeling of being in control over every little movement. Not like before. “Is he around?”
Ford paused, “He’s upstairs, but…” 
But. But but but. Ugh. You winced, looking up at him, hoping desperately that whatever he said next wouldn’t hurt. 
“But…” he continued. Incredibly slowly, brow furrowed like he was thinking carefully about every word. “I’m sure you know, his thought on him, that is,” he said. “He got you here okay, but he’s…” another pause. The basement made the silence worse, occasionally broken by Fords humming as he thought. “He’s processing, right now,” Ford finally managed. 
“So,” you said, a little quieter than you meant. You cleared your throat, trying to get your voice back. “So, should I… go?”
Ford sucked a breath in through his teeth, grimacing. “About that,” he started. “You can’t. The shack is the only place you’re safe from Bill, it’s the reason why you didn’t get nightmares when you slept here,” he said. He sighed, pushing up his glasses, “He can’t get in your head while you’re here, so you have to stay until we figure or a plan.”
“Ah,” you said, dejectedly nodding your head. So you just shouldn’t have left. That was your mistake. One of several. 
Ford hummed back. No words. None needed, maybe. A moment of silence, maybe grief. “We’ll come up with a solution, Y/n.”
Another headache was brewing. Different than before, different than when it was him. All you this time, that was at least comforting. It was your brain that hurt, that seemed to fight you. It was a sharper pain, rather than a dull throb. Right in the front behind your eyes. You nodded, staring at the floor. Fuck. 
                                             …
Yesterday, the kitchen in the Mystery shack felt like yours. Not like you owned it, but that you had as much a right to use it as any of the shacks regular residents. Because it was your home, too, for the most part. You lived here enough. 
But it was off, today. Something about it was different. The lights still shined warmly, the same way they always did and always would thanks to Fords invented lightbulbs. Everything was in the same place, the spoons, pots, pans and such. Water still boiled the same. Same speed, same slight burning smell as the burners warmed up. It was all familiar, but alien as you moved through it, grabbing supplies, food. There wasn’t much good in the fridge, it must be Stans shopping day. 
Your eyes landed on a carton of eggs, and that somehow seemed like the best option. A soft boiled egg wasn’t amazing on its own, but today you were feeling spicy. Or rather, particularly bland. It dawned on you, reaching for the egg, that it wasn’t the kitchen that was alien, but you. You were what changed. What was different. The alien, if you will. You gently dropped the egg in the water. 
You stared into the pot. The pot stared at you. The water was bubbling, and the egg swirled inside. It bobbed and bounced over the ceramic, but didn’t break. Lucky you. You held your hand over the pot, and felt the steam, which was condensing on the cupboards above. A sigh escaped your lips as you felt the heat on your hand. 
Thumps. There was someone in the doorway. You froze, leaning over the stove. You shouldn’t look. It could be anyone, but you knew footsteps well enough, and they seemed to stop in the doorway when they saw you. You had a good enough guess. But you had to look anyway. See him. Just to check, maybe.
Dipper was as frozen as you were, with a hand clutching the door frame. His eyes were wide, knuckles white. He looked terrified. 
“Dip?”
”Hi,” he said curtly, jerking his head to look at the floor. Anywhere but you. 
You lifted a hand, halfway towards him, and then retracted it, pulling close to your chest. He flinched. Maybe reaching out wasn’t what he needed. “Hey, I-“ you started, but trailed off. And then he left, without a word. 
You sighed, and turned around to hop up and sit on the counter. You leaned your head against the damp cupboard, and glanced down to watch the egg. The stovetop sizzled as a drip of water fell on the burner. 
Your mouth fell open, staring at the boiling pot. The water wasn’t high enough to spill. The condensation wasn’t heavy enough to drip. Your hand gently tapped at your face. Wet. You blinked, and a tear fell. Oh. You dabbed your cheeks with your sleeve, trying not to get red and puffy as more tears fell. Oh. 
They shouldn’t see you like that. They were already kind enough to let you stay, despite everything. Because they have to. You shook your head, and stared with blurry vision at your boiling egg. You sniffled, and more tears started to fall. Fuck. You tried to wipe your eyes as quietly as possible, wetting your sleeves and scrambling to find something to blow your nose on. 
Your eyes landed on a roll of paper towel by the sink, and you hopped from  the counter. Nose nearly dripping as a few stray tears turned to crying, you grabbed for it. Nose blowing wasn’t quiet. But you tried. And even worse, you wiped your eyes with the dry side of it. Wouldn’t want them to be able to tell you’ve been crying by looking at your clothes. You grabbed a few more paper towels for the road as you went back to your soft boiled egg. 
It has mostly settled into a place in the pot, no longer dancing around it. It still wiggled with the water, though. You sighed, leaning on the countertop next to it, and grabbed your phone from your pocket. This feels like too much time. Tapping the screen, you realize you never set a timer for your precious soft boiled egg. 
Soft boiled eggs were nice. If done right, the centre of it was gooey, warm, tasted alright. And it paired so well with noodle soup, or maybe stir fry. Not that you had that. But sometimes just the soft boiled egg was enough. 
Eyes wide and with haste, you grabbed the handle of the pot, desperately hoping you still had a soft boiled egg. Hot. It nearly hurt to hold. You quickly and carefully poured the boiling water into the sink, and flooded the pot with cold. Your thumb thumped on the handle as you waited only a moment for it to cool. 
The eggshell was hot, too. You gently cracked it on the rim, and blinked away tears as you began to peel it. Difficult with shaking hands. Falling tears plinked against the metal of the sink as you did. 
With the shell discarded safely in the pot, you eyes the egg. Nothing about the white gave away whether or not it was overdone. You squeezed it. A couple times. And with a sigh, and a leap of faith, took a bite off the top.
The first bite never reached the centre. It never does, unless you’re hungry enough to finish the egg with that. You looked again at the white, seeing the yellow shadow where you bit. Leap of faith. You bit again. 
You froze when your teeth hit the centre, and slowly, you released your jaw, leaving a bite mark in the egg. It wasn’t soft. Not even close. Your hands were already shaking, and you carefully dropped the egg back in the cold water pot. You sighed, and used your paper towel to wipe your eyes. Your lips were trembling now, too though. 
Hard boiled eggs didn’t taste as good. The texture was weird, it didn’t go well with the egg white, nor a good stir fry. Maybe a good soup, on a good day. But you didn’t have soup. And it wasn’t much of a good day.
You sighed, and choked back a sob. Why the fuck did it have to happen like this? You clenched your jaw, and face fell into your palm. It didn’t have too. Your legs were shaking, whole body really. I could have done anything else. You sucked a breath in through closed teeth, lips quivering. Fucking anything. You sank to the floor, back against the bottom cupboards, and head in hand. Anything. Fucking. Else. The thought.  just echoed through your head as you sobbed. Anything. 
But you overdid the egg. You overdid the egg. And the cold tiled floor was under you, and your feet slid out in front of you. And your head was in your hands. And you weren’t holding back your tears anymore. And you weren’t trying to spare your face anymore. You overdid the egg. And quietly sobbed on the floor of the kitchen, of a home that didn’t feel like yours anymore. 
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Fellas I don’t even like angst. Like reading or writing it. Like I don’t know why I did this or how I got here. Like the writing process has been so slow cuz of it 😭😭
Also fun fact I wrote the egg bit like September when one of my Guinea pigs died and I was sad.
I’ll pick the tone up again later trust me 😭
Taglist: @dead-esque @cipheress-to-k-pop
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sysig · 2 months
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Okay but what if (Patreon)
#Doodles#TSP#Stanley#Me while reading: Now don't make a papercraft okay? Don't make a papercraft don't make a papercraft don't make a-#Predictably lol#It's the kind of structure that invites speculation! Who would you choose and what would their name be and how would they adapt#And The Stanley Parable wasn't even out at the time!! FJkldsafdf#Me when anything: I want to#Stanley would be so fun to play as ♪ Small but close-knit cast and since it's an institute it should have accommodations for his mutism#And he's no stranger to painful and confusing situations haha#You can see my indecision on which sign language Stanley knows haha#He never speaks so we don't know what accent Stanley would have but we know the Narrator is British! So#But I also don't know any British Sign Language and I know it's different than ASL òuò;#Granted my knowledge of ASL is far far far from fluent but I do know some at least so if /I/ was the one playing as him-#Anyway moot point since languages are directly translated anyway :P Though I wonder about sign language#I assume there were some nonverbal patients I just haven't seen any myself :0#I have also made a Narrator card to match Stanley 😔#Actually - hehe - I had a lot of fun picking their ''real'' names ♪#The Narrator's was pretty easy honestly I knew I had to give him the first name Kevan and then I wanted to keep his last initial#So I went with ''Baker'' since it's a common name :) Very cute!#And then for Stanley since I headcanon him as being Greek/Latino - heavier on the Greek side - I gave him a Greek name!#Again same first initial - couple letters even for that ''St-'' sound :) - and scanned through some Greek last names#And liked the sound of Psomas with Stefano - but ♪ You'll never guess ♫#It's a similarly common name for a reason - ''Psomas'' translates to ''bread maker''#Kevan and Stefano Baker they're husbands fr your honour#Hghhghh I just think it's so cute!! And I didn't do it on purpose it was just a happy accident!! I love them <3
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demadogs · 2 years
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the amount of fucking WORK theyd have put into all this if it is queerbait is insane like if they didnt wanna do byler it would make their lives so much easier if they just let mlvn be healthy and adorable like lumax and never had will love mike and instead give him a boyfriend (best if he was introduced by s3).
instead theyre out here carefully and meticulously framing mike around closets, making the lighting blue and yellow, playing tracks called shit like “in the closet” when mike talks, paralleling them to every canon couple. like jesus that is so much extra work for them if its all for nothing.
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ugh had a conversation w someone and i thuink i upset them but also i was in the right
#me: ur neglecting ur pet snake and i think u should find a new home for him bc this is not good for him#them: i am so offended and i can’t do that bc i love him#me: if u loved him u would not neglect him tho#them: so if i take better care of him u will believe that i love him and leave me alone#me: if u need me to tell u to take care if ur pet’s basic needs to do it then i don’t think u really love them#them: i am so fucking offended and i am upset u can’t tell me how i feel#but also like this person was getting pissed bc another person we know takes care of their dogs like the bare minimum and we both were#upset by that but then?? they also don’t take care of their snake and now they’re upset bc i called them out on it?#they’re also upset bc of the “u don’t love ur pet” thing bc like. i can admit that i don’t like. feel love. a lot. like i like the cats#and i would be sad if i could never see them again but if i knew i could not take good care of them i would absolutely find them a new#home. like. idk if i can really feel love a lot? like i don’t love my family and i don’t know if i’ve ever loved my family and i don’t even#know if i’ve ever loved anyone. maybe except for goose i think i would die inside if something bad happened to him. but for the most part#i’ve only ever liked animals not loved them but i would still take care of them bc it’s my responsibility like they deserve care and even#if i’m bad at loving i would never want them to feel unloved and i just find it annoying that this person can claim to love but be content#with this kind of neglect. like i don’t need love to still be nice and take care of pets bc it makes me happy for them to be happy and#healthy so it’s weird to me that someone who claims they love so much (and they do this a lot) to not be bothered. like what is your#love doing for you? like i care but i don’t really love but they love and don’t really care and idk i think they should still care#i wonder if they’d let me take the snake. originally he actually was mine but we got him literally a week before smth happened that made#me fucked in the head so i gave him up because i knew i wasn’t fit to take care of him but i’ve been getting a lot better recently so#i think i’d be able to step back in atp#the real question is if they’d let me
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minasweep · 1 year
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everytime I see a tangled edit or clip I'm instantly possessed by the little girl I was in like 2010
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