#this was gonna drag on forever if I didn't force that ending

[mxyirin]

Yandere!Gaara

warnings: yandere!gaara, younger!gaara, older!reader, female!reader, non-confirmed age gap but not the illegal kind, normal yandere themes, pronouns used are she/her, unreliable narrative so reader is referred as '[name]' or you

― 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐒

▸ There was one thing Gaara thought that he liked among the darkness.

▸It happened to be [Name], the daughter of the owner of the local florist in Suna. 

▸To the little redhead, [Name] had been light when he was shunned by everyone, even his own family, who were scared of him.

▸She was the reason he lived.

▸Offeriong him sweet candies secretly whenever she could or offering to teach him about the flowers in the shop.

▸When her parents decided to travel the world when [Name] was old enough, she took over the shop.

▸At the same time he became the Kazekage.

▸Gaara continued to woo her so that he could win her affection.

▸He didn't succeed until the tailed beast was separated from him, making him more rational.

▸Without the beast, his obsession grew but didn't leak that would make [Name] run away from him.

▸Gaara and [Name], would be forever together.

You stepped on the hard tiles of your shared home as softly as possible to not alert a certain redhead.

Only to open the door to your bedroom to see Gaara with his arms crossed.

His sea-green eyes seemed too intense as they gazed upon you, making you cringe and step back.

"Where were you?" Gaara asked, his tone was calm but underneath that facade was a possessive man who didn't want you to stay away from him. 

"You left without telling me." His tone tune accusatory making you gulp as your mind raced to what you could say to him.

"I just wanted some... some fresh air." Your voice turned timid as you finished the sentence making those cold green eyes soften to a degree.

"You know how dangerous the world is right?" When you nod, he continues: "Don't go without informing or I won't be able to protect you."

He wanted to have some ninjas guard you from the shadows but betrayal was easy, especially among humans, he thought about how his friend Naruto had summoning frogs and thought he should also do the same.

"You wanted fresh air right, let's go." Gaara dragged your body into his arms and held you close.

The relationship was nice in the beginning, you felt flattered that such a high-ranked man wanted you.

Soon, you realised that the rose too had its thorns.

You were isolated and while you were introverted in nature, it didn't mean you absolutely disliked every human interaction.

There were some people you liked but in the end, even they drifted apart because of Gaara who used all the tactics so you could only rely on him.

With everyone running away in fear, your flower shop was forced to be closed making you rely on Gaara even more now that he had the power in the monetary terms as well.

There was no space for you, you thought to yourself.

Then a hand gripped your wrist tightly making you wince.

"Who are you thinking about?" The dark undertone in Gaara's voice made you shiver and he tightened the grip on your wrist.

"No one." You replied trying to get back your wrist which was now hurting.

"Really?" 

Seeing you nod, Gaara loosened the grip on your hand and you could see the skin become bruised under the harsh grip.

The redhead clicked his tone as he gently brushed his fingers on the dark bruise on your wrist

"See, how will you live without me?"

He loved you too much, he could not let you go.

Gaara would never let you go.

character: gaara anime name: naruto requested: dinxx_vii

a/n: i was originally gonna write manipulative reader again but i felt i need to write something different this time.

#x reader #yandere anime #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #gaara #yandere gaara #female reader #yandere x female reader #fem reader #naruto #yandere naruto #yandere naruto x reader

[carmyboobear]

ALEXITHYMIA CH 3: nightmares, pepto, and fire

Roommate AU: Carmy Berzatto x Reader (R18)

ao3 link ch 1 ch 2 ch 4

Chapter Rating: M (7.9k)

Chapter Summary: Carmy can't run from how he feels anymore. His dreams, his conversations with his coworkers and friends, everything is forcing him to face reality. Upon being pushed to his limits, he will finally have to start to speak the truth.

content tags: wet dreams, repressed carmy (as per usual), self deprecation, mental illness

A/N: Carmy gets a wet dream AND a nightmare this chapter! I'm putting him through the ringer babes… I had a lot of fun with the drama, interactions, and imagery this time. Also fun fact, this is the end of what I refer to as "Act 1" in my notes! Act 1 consists of repressed Carmy to the max, barely even acknowledging his feelings… but that's gonna change after this chapter :) enjoy!

After a torturous day at work, one that makes his limbs feel like lead, Carmy is more than relieved to see the door to his apartment. 

Surprisingly, though, it swings open without him even touching it. He's too tired to think twice about it. He steps inside, and the first thing he sees is his roommate. They're dressed exclusively in a black apron, just like they were that other night.

“Hi, Carmy,” they say quietly, and their makeup is messy and dark just like that night they were trashed. He remembers how he felt the first time he saw them like that, because he feels it now. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” he hears himself saying. 

They walk up to him, and suddenly, they're on top of him. Their hands press gently against his tense shoulders. His back hits his bed, pillows under his neck. 

“You snooped through my stuff, didn't you?” Their hands move behind them to drop their apron, revealing skin, skin, and more skin. It goes on forever. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles half-heartedly, distracted by their nakedness. 

“Hm. I don't think you're all that sorry, but…that's okay.” They drag their hand down the center of his chest, slowly, teasingly, lovingly. “I wanted you to see.”

A bottle of lube materializes in their hand. 

“You did?”

“I did,” they whisper. They uncap the lube with a low pop, and suddenly, their skin is shiny with it. Carmy runs his hand down their chest, squeezing, and it's slippery to the touch. “You wanna see what I like to do with this?”

“Please,” he whispers back, breathless, desperate for it. They smile, and it doesn't quite look like them. Heat circles in his gut nonetheless. 

“You're so sweet,” they say quietly. “I love that about you.”

He can't respond, not with the way they're touching him. Not that he can come up with a response to that. The pleasure is like fire under his skin, hot, alive, and painful.

“Don't say that,” he pleads, and it feels so good. 

“Why not? It's how I really feel about you.”

Their mouth is on his neck now. He can barely breathe. A part of him worries that there's gonna be lipstick marks he'll have to get off again, but he honestly couldn't care less. He'll go to work covered in lipstick marks if he has to. 

“Shut up,” he tries again, but it's even weaker this time. 

I'm gonna end up hurting you, he wants to say, but he can't.

“Don't you like how good I can make you feel?” They lean up to seal their lips against his, and smoke fills his mouth. He takes it in like water. The high hits him immediately, along with the spike in pleasure.

“I'm close,” he whispers, bucking against their hand.

“Me too.” They straddle his waist then, a playful look in their eye. “I know just the thing…”

Just as they go to unbutton his jeans, an alarm screams into his ear, and his eyes fly open to see his bedroom ceiling. 

Stunned, he slams his hand down to shut up his alarm. He lays there in the silence, slowly processing everything. From the moment he woke up, his heart's been racing.

He moves to sit up, get a sip of water, and that's when he feels how sticky his boxers feel. 

“Motherfucker,” he mutters under his breath. He doesn't even have any water on his nightstand, and he just came in his sleep for the first time since highschool. “Shit.”

The shame is too much. He has to sit there for several more minutes in silence before getting himself clean. 

There are no words to express the emotion he feels as he changes his boxers and wipes himself down. It's a strange mixture of guilt, shock, and lingering arousal. He needs to make sure he doesn't think about it at work unless he wants to walk around with an obvious bulge in his pants. 

You need to head into work so you can stop thinking about it, he tells himself, to which he agrees.

He does his best not to think about it on his way to work, which only garners minimal success. In other words, it's a spectacular failure. It's a miracle he doesn't clock in with a poorly concealed boner, but there are other factors. 

For one, his nausea. It crept up on him soon after waking up, and it looks like it's here to stay. It's fine, though, because he's used to his stomach being fucked. His brain is on fire and so is the rest of his body—just as usual. He'll just take some pepto when he gets to work.

Except that when he reaches for it on the bathroom shelf, there is no pepto bottle. That's when he remembers the way he chugged the rest of it the week before. So the nausea remains.

When he arrives, the comments about the lipstick mark being gone is unavoidable. His irritation is also naturally unavoidable. His sour mood does him no favors. However, in a twisted sort of luck, he realizes they're behind on far too many things, and he hones in, focuses on nothing else. Everyone else is too swamped with work to keep up the teasing. 

The lunch rush is expectedly awful, especially with the swelling tensions in the kitchen. Everyone gets through it with minimal screaming. 

Staying busy is supposed to help. Keeping himself occupied is supposed to help, but the moment the lunch rush ends, the nausea hits him at full blast.

“You look like shit,” Richie kindly tells him. A ‘fuck off’ sits on the tip of Carmy's tongue, but so does the feeling of bile, rising in his throat. “Wow, you really are sick, aren't you?” He remarks at Carmy's lack of response. 

In as little words as possible, Carmy relays to everyone he'll be in his office. 

He keeps the lights off and the door cracked as he falls back onto his chair. The world around him seems to settle like sand. It's been a while since he's dealt with nausea this bad. He counts that as a blessing in itself. 

The darkness and the quiet is nice. It relaxes his body. On the flipside, though, there's no noise to overpower the thoughts he's running from. 

He closes his eyes, and he sees imprints of his dream. He feels their mouth on his neck, their voice in his ear, their hand on his—

Carmy slaps a hand on his forehead. Then, he sighs, dragging it slowly down his face. His stomach twists inward into itself. 

He thinks about seeing his reflection in the mirror last night. His skin was free from the lipstick mark that everyone was relentlessly teasing him about. And yet, he was struck with a profound sense of disappointment. 

You liked seeing it there, a voice somewhere hidden in him whispers. 

Carmy really feels like throwing up now. 

He settles in the darkness for a while longer until a notification lights up his screen, briefly illuminating the room with a low white light. 

His first instinct is to groan and flip his phone face down, which he follows about halfway through until he sees the contact name. 

The text message is from the person haunting his dreams and his waking life. 

- hey thinking abt cooking chicken and rice tonite or something. u want some??

Just when he was able to get a break from thinking about them. Just like that, they're orbiting his brain again. 

Visions of them jacking him off aside, he's unsure what to say. He doubts he's gonna be able to get anything down today. This isn't the first time something like this has happened on his end.

> maybe tmrw, stomach is fucked today. ill take leftovers if u make some

- oh no :( feel better man. u got medicine?

> no but its ok, ill take some after work

- but thats so far away!

He can't help but smile, even if looking at the screen isn’t making his nausea any better.

> ill be ok. ill make it

He’ll make it because he has to. No one else is gonna run the place for him. That’s a part of what makes him stand up, take in a breath, and return to the kitchen. The other part is the familiar distant sound of arguing. He slips his phone in his back pocket, stands up, and gets back to work. No matter how begrudgingly it may be.     

A number of problems quickly make themselves clear to him. First, the toilet’s busted again. Two, the plumber won’t be here for another three days. Three, the cash register isn’t working. Four, the meat order got delayed. Carmy doesn’t even wanna start worrying about that last one yet with how awful it’s gonna be.

“When is Fak gonna get here?” Carmy asks Richie. They’re stationed at the front, taking the lack of customers while they can.

“He said he'd be here soon.” Richie's fucking with the aforementioned cash register. Carmy’s leaning against the counter, watching him aggressively jam receipt paper into the machine out of the corner of his eye. It's refusing to print receipts again. “He said to tell you to not get your hopes up. He's not a plumber.”

“I know, but he's got the best chance of fixing the thing.”

“I'm telling ya, if you just let me fuck around with it—”

“You don't know how to fix a toilet by watching youtube tutorials,” Carmy mutters.

“So you wanna have to keep going across the street to take a piss?”

“Cousin—this is my restaurant, not your goddamn apartment—”

“Alright, then be my fuckin’ guest—”

He's so in the middle of arguing that he doesn't even hear the bell on the door ring when it opens. 

“Look, Fak's gonna be here in a couple minutes,” Carmy says, pinching his eyebrows together, “and then you can fight it out like alphas or whatever the fuck you were saying. Okay? God—”

When he straightens up, pushing himself off the counter and turning back towards the front, the last person he expected to see stands right in front of him.

They've got this bashful smile on their face, and their cheeks are flushed from the cold. Their hair sticks out from their beanie in a way that Carmy insists is not cute at all. Not one bit, not even the way it's messy when they yank it off. 

He also insists to himself that the color on their cheeks doesn't remind him of his dream. Not at all. Not even a little bit. No way. No matter how much the visuals are rampaging in his brain. 

“I was sorta worried I wasn't in the right place,” they admit. 

“What're you doing here?” Carmy blurts out, even though he immediately recognizes it for how rude it is. 

“Uh—” Nerves flash across their face. They hold up a little paper bag. “Sorry for just showing up, I just wanted to bring you some things.”

“No—don't apologize, I shouldn't have just…” He trails off, unable to find the words. He studies the bag in their hand. “Sorry. What did you bring?” He asks, softer this time. 

“I know this might be a bit much,” they clarify nervously. They walk up the counter and set the bag down before him. “It's just, you were saying that you weren't feeling well, and I was in the area doing some shopping…”

Carmy reaches inside and pulls out several things. The items reveal themselves to be a small, green bottle of papaya pills, a little bag of ginger candies, and most importantly, a bottle of bubblegum pink pepto bismol.

As he stares at the items, a tiny flower blossoms in his chest.

“You really didn't have to get all this,” he says softly after a beat of silence. He stares at the items for a moment longer before looking up at them. There's an odd feeling in his chest. 

“I wanted to. Seriously.” They still look oddly bashful, and it's captivating. “I mean, you helped me out a ton the other night, so…”

“You didn't owe me anything.” 

“Then consider it a gift.” Their smile so effortlessly dazzles him. “Unless I can't give you gifts?”

“Yeah—I mean, no, you—” Carmy fails to stifle a quiet laugh at how ridiculous he sounds. They so easily fluster him. “Thank you,” he says finally, remembering himself. “This is…really nice.”

“I hope it helps,” they reply, and he tells himself the color on their cheeks is still from the cold. He tells himself that they're the one that looked into his eyes first, so it's okay for him to look back. “If you end up not liking it or needing it, though, it’s fine. Do whatever you want with it.”

“No, I appreciate it. Thank you,” he says again. 

They're beautiful, he thinks all of a sudden, and the thought is so potent he can't hide from it for a single second. His anxiety tells him that they're gonna hear his thoughts if he keeps thinking so loudly. The bliss of tracing his eyes over their features is worth it. He's not sure if he feels any less nauseous, staring at their darling face like this, but he can't deny he likes the way this feels. His chest aches.

Then, the obnoxious noise of someone clearing their throat reminds him that they're not alone. 

“Cousin.” Carmy's head whips around. How could he forget that Richie was right there? It's incredible how silent Richie could be when he wants to. “You gonna introduce us?”

“Shit, right, uh—” Carmy fumbles, making a hand motion with no words to match. “This is my cousin Richie. And Richie, this is, uh, my roommate.”

Oh, how he's dreaded saying those words for reasons he will see in just a matter of seconds. 

“So you're the roommate!” Richie makes a big show of it, eyebrows raised in dramatic shock. 

“Yeah, that's me.” They shrug. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise. Can't believe you're roomin’ with this guy,” Richie says, slapping a hand on Carmy's shoulder. It is promptly shoved off. “Carmen's not an easy guy to be around, I know.”

“Oh, not at all! He's a great roommate.” Carmy feels the tips of his ears growing warm. 

“Really?” Richie gives him a skeptical look. “Who would've guessed.”

“Fuck off,” Carmy snaps, but the way he mumbles makes it lack any intensity. 

They don’t stay for long. Something about needing to run some more errands. A part of Carmy wants to keep them there somehow, although there’s no logical reason for that. If anything, the faster they’re out, the better. It gives Richie less time to say something scathing that ruins their perception of Carmy. 

Not that you need any help fucking yourself over, Carmy thinks to himself distantly. 

“Well, I hope the stuff helps.” They readjust their beanie on their head, pulling it over their ears. “I’ll see you at home?” 

“Yeah, I’ll see you,” he replies. “Thanks again.” 

“No problem. Bye!”

They wave to him and Richie as they leave. As soon as the bell above the door rings and they’re out of sight, Carmy feels Richie’s eyes on him. 

Actually, he feels a number of eyes on him. 

He turns around to see his fellow chefs peeking over the deli counter, standing in a row like a line of matryoshka dolls. They freeze when they see him, but they don’t make any move to run away. Absolutely remorseless. 

“Back to your stations, chefs,” Carmy scolds them, but his meak words are quickly overtaken by noise. 

“If the two of you aren’t dating, then what the fuck is this?” Richie picks up the paper bag full of medicine. “That was some sappy shit the two of you were pulling!”

“The two of you? What the fuck did I do?” Carmy spits back. 

“What the fuck did I do,” Richie imitates, rolling his eyes. “Fuckin’ goo-goo eyes over here wants to know what the fuck he was doing.” Carmy snatches the bag out of his hand.

“You were makin’ goo-goo eyes at them,” Marcus agrees. His elbows are propped up on the glass counter. 

“And if they’re bringing you medicine, it’s serious,” Tina adds with a sly grin. 

“There’s nothing to be serious about,” Carmy insists. He feels like a broken record. “We’re just friends.”

“Friends that kiss each other,” Sydney comments. “Right. Of course.” 

“We don’t—I’ve never—” He’s a tea kettle, and the lid on him is starting to rattle. “Chefs—”

“Cousin, loosen up already. Why you always gotta make shit so serious?” Richie throws an arm around his shoulder, but Carmy shoves it off. 

“Because this shit is none of your fuckin’ business. That goes for all of you!” Carmy whips around, gesturing accusingly with his hand at the line of chefs. “Get back to work! Now!”

A sad chorus of “Yes, chef” resounds, and everyone despondently trickles back to their stations. All except for Richie, who is not a chef. 

“They’re obviously into you,” Richie tries, and Carmy’s glare could burn two perfect circles into his face. 

“Drop it,” he hisses. 

“Why’re you always like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like a little bitch? You’re a pussy, Carmen. That’s what you are. A pussy—”

“You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about.”

“No. Y’know what? I actually do have a clue, because I know you, Berzatto. You act like all that shit’s above you, but it’s not. And I’m tryin’ to do you a favor—”

“A favor? What fucking favor?” 

“I’m trying to help you get a fucking clue! That’s what! Because you’re too dense to see what’s right in front of you!”

“Richie, I happen to be doing just fine without your help. I don’t need whatever the fuck you think helping me is!”

“Then explain this to me. Explain this little thing to me, Carmen fucking Berzatto. You and Claire—”

“Richie. Don’t.”

“That could’ve been a good thing. A great thing. The two of you—”

“I told you—”

“You were obviously into each other, and yet—”

“Shut the fuck up, you piece of shit!” 

There’s a rage threatening to spew out of him, lava coursing under his skin and in his head. Richie’s looking at him like he knows he’s right, but he’s not. He’s not right about Carmy. He’s not right about anything. Not about any of this. 

“Fak is on the scene! What is up, guys?” 

With comedic (or arguably tragic) timing, Fak bursts through the front door with his heavy tool bag on one hand. Carmy and Richie’s heads both snap to him when he arrives. Fak freezes in his steps. 

“Fak,” Carmy says. 

“Finally,” Richie mutters. “Slow ass.” 

“Uh…I’m getting the impression I shouldn’t be here right now. Should I be here right now?” Fak takes a step back towards the door. 

“Yes, I really need you to look at the toilet,” Carmy says. Richie is uncharacteristically quiet, but Carmy can’t stand to look at him. 

“If you say so.” Fak shrugs. “What’s the damage?” 

“Mild to severe, depending on how you look at it,” is Carmy’s dry response. 

The rest of the day, Carmy operates on autopilot. When he finally remembers to open the bottle of pepto, nausea surges in him at the sight of it. He manages to force it down. Miraculously, the toilet gets fixed, and even more miraculously, no one mentions the roommate again. Not even Richie. Although Carmy does sense how badly he wants to bring it up again. 

His stomach continues its incessant rampage throughout the rest of the day. Despite improving since the pepto, it’s still generally upset. This nausea leads him back to his care package again and again throughout the rest of the day. 

The ginger candies have a sharp flavor, maybe even a bit too much, but the sharpness grounds him. It also does admittedly dim the nausea. He wonders why he’s never bothered to keep him on his person. 

“Chef?” Carmy’s cleaning his station when he hears Syd next to him. It could only be her, anyway—the sun has set, and everyone else has gone home for the day. He perks his head up to see her concerned expression. 

“Chef,” he acknowledges back. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she says quickly. “Nothing wrong with me, I mean. I was actually wondering if, uh, you were okay?”

“Me?” The question surprises him. “Uh, yeah. I’m okay. Stomach’s better, so…”

“Oh, good.” She nods. “Stuff your roommate gave you working?”

“Yeah. It is.” He rolls the candy around on his tongue. “Hand me my knife?”

“Yeah.” She slides it over to him. “And, uh, I just wanted to say—I don’t mean to be nosy. I really don’t. Earlier, everyone was just gathered over the counter, and—”

“It’s fine.”

“I just wanted to see what the commotion was about—”

“Really, it’s fine,” he repeats, firmly. “They’re just like that, anyway.”

“I—Okay. Okay.” She exhales. “It’s just—y’know. I don’t wanna be an ass. I just…”

“You weren’t. You’re not.”

“I’m just…wondering about one thing.”

“...Yeah?”

“Why have you never invited them to family?”

“Family?” This question surprises him even more than the last. “Well, family’s for…family. Just the workers.”

“I mean, yeah. But, like, sometimes it’s not, right? Like, you let Marcus’ roommate come last week.”

“Marcus was on family anyway.”

“Sure. Right. You let me bring my friend recently, though.”

“You wanted to show her where you worked, didn’t you?” 

“And Fak has family with us almost, like, all the time.”

“Fak is Fak,” Carmy reasons, and Sydney can’t argue with that. 

“I don’t mean to be an ass,” she repeats. “I’m just curious.”

Right, he thinks. She asked a question. Why have I never brought them to family?

He’s never even considered it before. Bringing them to family. It’s not a habit to bring outsiders in, for lack of better wording, but it’s not necessarily off-limits, either. He doesn’t actually  mind when others bring people in. He trusts them not to bring in anyone stupid. Mostly. As for himself…

He’s never had anyone in his life to bring before. Ever. 

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “I guess I just never thought about it.”

“Huh.”

“Wouldn’t it be…weird?”

“Why would it be weird?”

“I don’t know,” he says again, “I just…I just thought…” He sighs. “I didn’t wanna deal with Richie, but…”

“Little too late for that,” Sydney notes in amusement. 

“Little too late,” he echoes. 

“Well. I was just curious. Sorry if that was weird.”

“Why would it be weird?” He jokes, imitating her from earlier. 

“Shut up,” she shoots back with a grin. “You know what I mean.”

“It’s fine. It’s not weird.” He pauses for a moment, thinking about Richie. “Everyone else is an ass about it. Not you, though.”

“I try.” She grins. “I…I think everyone just gets excited because…it’s different. Seeing you with someone else like that.”

“Mm.” Carmy nods, and then pauses again. Lets it sink in. “Do I…” I shouldn’t ask this, he thinks, but he’s already started. It’s too late. “...Do I act differently?”

“Around them? Yeah. A little.”

“...” Carmy straightens up, taking a step back from his station. This is starting to feel weird. Really weird. “I do?”

“Kinda. You just seem…calmer, I think.” Sydney’s expression seems uncomfortable. “I dunno.”

“No, it’s fine. It was a dumb thing to ask.” Carmy’s making the executive decision to stop talking about this. “I gotta stay and sort through some stuff in the office, but you should head out for the night.”

“What, can’t afford to pay me overtime?” Sydney teases. Carmy rolls his eyes. 

“Partially,” he jokes back, although it’s not much of a joke. 

Nevertheless, it is almost 10 pm, so Sydney does indeed head out for the night. The whole place is eerily silent without anyone else there. There’s the sound of the rattling AC unit, noisy plumbing, and passing cars, but there’s a distinct lack of sizzling pans, knives against cutting boards, and shouting. It just feels strange, is all. 

Carmy barely remembers to replace the bottle of pepto in the bathroom before heading out. He puts the new bottle there on the shelf, and as he stares at it standing there, he considers putting other gifts there too. 

He returns to his office where the small bag of ginger candies and bottle of papaya pills sits. They’re seated on the corner of his desk. He goes to grab them, but for some reason, he doesn’t. They look like they belong there. 

Then consider it a gift, he remembers them saying earlier. Unless I can’t give you gifts? If you end up not liking it or needing it, though, it’s fine. Do whatever you want with it, he hears them saying again.

A certain possessiveness grips him then.

It was a gift, he tells himself. For me. No one else.

He decides to leave the candies and pills on his desk. Those will be just for him. 

When he finally gets home, it’s almost 12 am. He does his best to open the door carefully, but it’s as squeaky as ever. 

He’s greeted with a surprising, although not unusual sight. His roommate is curled up into a sleep ball on the couch, snuggled into the pillows and blankets. The tv is playing some youtube video essay about lost media from the early 2000s. All the lights in the apartment are off, leaving the only source of illumination to be the tv screen. 

Carmy carefully moves to turn the tv off. After he does, he turns to see if he’s woken them up. He hasn’t. They’re still in deep sleep. Very deep sleep, rather, with how they’re lightly snoring.  

That familiar ache he gets in his chest when he sees them makes itself known. It’s the ache that pulls him in, forcing him to sit on the floor next to the couch. It’s something beyond his will that makes him gaze at their peacefully sleeping face. 

His eyes trace their features like he was earlier when they stopped by The Beef, except this time, much more unabashedly. He takes note of the faint blemishes on their cheeks, the loose strands of hair in their face. The squish of their cheek against the pillows. 

Cute, he thinks to himself, not for the first time, and he’s too tired to push the feeling away. 

You’re different around them, he hears Sydney saying. Calmer.

I don’t know about that, he thinks. He absentmindedly brings a hand to brush their loose hairs out of their face. I don’t know how I feel when I’m around you. 

A part of him wonders if he should wake them up. The part of him that wins is the part that doesn’t want to disturb the peaceful look on their face. He wouldn’t want to upset them. 

He trudges into his bed instead, flopping wearily onto his mattress. It’s been a taxing day, right down to the moment he woke up this morning. His mind and body were both in shambles, and now, he’s exhausted.  

As he falls asleep, he distantly hopes for a dreamless night. 

. . . . .

“Where’s the olive oil? The pan’s heated. I need to start cooking the beef.”

Carmy stands before a pristine stainless steel pan. Next to him on the counter sits stuffed beef carefully wrapped in twine—beef braciole. 

“Guys,” he repeats, annoyed. “Guys, have you seen the olive oil?”

He turns to see Michael and his roommate sitting at a kitchen island. They’re both opening cans of San Marzano tomatoes, although it’s definitely not a two person job. 

“We haven’t seen it, Carmen,” Michael says. “Anyway, like I was saying—you should’ve seen his face. Really! When I told him I couldn’t work at the restaurant, it’s like I told him our dog died or something.”

“What I wouldn’t give to see that,” his roommate remarks, snickering and shaking their head. “Such a baby.”

Next to them, Carmy spots the bottle of olive oil. With a scowl, he snatches it. 

“Hurry up on those tomatoes, guys, I’m gonna need it real soon,” he reminds them, irritation growing. 

With the bottom of the pan coated in olive oil, he carefully places the beef into the pan. The sizzle is strangely whistle-like and high pitched. He inhales, searching for the smell of cooking meat and garlic, but he can’t seem to smell anything at all. 

“Did he cry?” They ask. 

“No, but he looked like he was going to,” Michael sneers, and the two of them are laughing again. 

“You wouldn’t wanna work with a guy like Carmy, anyway.”

“Exactly. Exactly. He doesn’t really get it, y’know. How much of a colossal fuck-up he is. I can see it in him, though. I didn’t have the heart to tell him then.”

“That’s okay. I don’t blame you. He probably wouldn’t have been able to handle it.”

“He has no idea! And he thinks he’s fooling everyone so well, but the thing is—”

“He’s not.”

“He’s not! He’s really not.”

“Chefs, I need the tomato puree. Hand it over,” Carmy interrupts abruptly. When there’s no response, he turns around. They haven’t even opened one can of tomatoes yet. “Are you two fucking serious?”

They look at him, eyes wide, and then they’re laughing so hard they’re crying. They’re doubled over the counter, cackling and kicking their feet. 

“You’re too easy to fuck with, Carmen,” Michael gets out between chuckles. “You’ve always been like that.”

Carmy ignores him and reaches for a can of tomatoes. 

“Give me the fucking can opener,” Carmy snaps.

“Oh, you won’t need it,” his roommate answers.

As soon as Carmy grabs a can, it explodes in his face.

Puréed San Marzano tomatoes fill his hand and drip from his hair into his eyes. He steps back, staggered from the red explosion. Somehow it got all over him and  not on anything else.

“Fucking shit!” He wipes his eyes, and that’s when he remembers the beef. He rushes back to the pan. It needs tomato purée now. He lets the splattered tomato drip from his hands into the pan, filling it with sauce. It sizzles and smells like smoke.

“I could always see you for who you really were, y’know. I always knew,” Michael goes on. “I could always see it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Carmy snaps. The growing anxiety in his stomach is tightening his body and ejecting the words out. “What the actual fuck are you talking about?”

“He’s saying that you’re just not a good person. That’s all,” his roommate reasons. Carmy tries to keep his eyes focused on the beef, hastily spooning tomato over it. The pan’s still filling with puree. It’s overflowing. “You’re just the sort of person who will never change. Once broken, always broken, y’know what I mean?”

“If you’re not going to help, then fucking leave!” Carmy snaps, finally. He whirls around and wipes all the cans onto the floor. They explode in glorious unison, staining the floors red. “Just get out and stop getting in my fucking way!”

“But you don’t want me to leave, do you?”

“I don’t care what you do, I just need to finish this—“

“No, you care. You care if I like or hate you. You care if I stay or leave. You care about me, Carmy. You really care about me.”

“I don’t fucking care about you. I never have, and I never will.”

The beef’s burning on the pan. It’s all burning.

“Oh, Carmy…” Their arms are wrapped around his torso, squeezing him in a gentle hug. “It’s too late for you to say that sort of thing. Not anymore.”

All of a sudden, there’s a gush of wetness that soaks through his shirt. He pulls back, and their mouth is oozing tomato puree. In an instant, Carmy knows they’re dying.

“Fuck,” Carmy curses. “Fuck!”

“This is what happens,” they say, gargling through mouthfuls of puree.

“Why?” He asks.

“Because it’s you,” they answer, and Carmy wakes up.

He wakes up stumbling back from the stove by someone pulling on his shirt. The stove has pots and pans filled with flaming frozen food. He can feel the blazing heat against his skin. The orange flames are flicking off the steel pans and arch towards the ceiling, reaching. As Carmy stumbles back, he falls to the floor, barely managing to steady himself with the palms of his hands.

There’s the familiar sound of the fire extinguisher, spraying out into the base of the fire. Propped up on his elbows, Carmy watches the fire shrink with a thumping heart. His heartbeat marches in time with the tune of the fire alarm, piercing and high-pitched throughout the apartment. 

Carmy finally takes notes of his roommate, looking about as distressed as someone who just woke up to a fire in their own home. Their hair sticks up in several different directions as if they just woke up, which they…probably did. With a displeased grunt, they march over to the window to slam it open. The cloudy smoke compacted near the ceiling begins to trickle out. 

“Fucking hell,” they mutter under their breath, coughing from the smoke. They turn around to look at Carmy, expression twisted with stress. “Dude. What was that?”

“I,” Carmy starts, but the words just won’t come. He tries to move to get up, but his legs aren’t moving. 

“Carmy. Hey.” They lean down next to him, staring him in the eyes. He still doesn’t respond. “Carmen!” They snap, and he jolts. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he gets out. They help him up, wrapping his hand in theirs and yanking him upwards. 

“We should step outside while the smoke clears.” They cough as they move to grab their coat. 

“It’ll be fine, it’ll be gone in a couple minutes,” Carmy hears himself saying. He’s met with a blank stare. 

“So this has happened to you before?” They open their mouth, as if they’re about to say something else, but they shake their head. “No, we’re not staying in here. We may smoke everyday, but this isn’t good for us. C’mon.” 

He doesn’t quite feel his body moving as he grabs his wool jacket. He doesn’t feel it as he walks down the stairs, not even when he steps outside and the chilled night air whips at his face. He feels far, far away. 

After leaving the awful song of the fire alarm, the quiet of the night is uncharacteristically loud. If he listens closely, though, he can pick out the sound of their fire alarm, distantly ringing. Or maybe that’s just his tinnitus. 

The clicking sound of a lighter is what recenters him. He looks to his side to see them shakily holding a lighter up to their cigarette. After a couple more sparks, the flame lights.

They take a slow pull of it before wordlessly handing it to him. An olive branch of sorts. He takes it. They let the pool of smoke sit in their mouth, and then they exhale with a heavy, heavy sigh. 

“What happened back there, man?” They ask quietly. “That was…” They sigh again. “That scared the shit out of me,” they whisper, and that’s what makes it all finally settle in. 

Fuck, Carmy realizes with a pang. The realization starts in the pit of his stomach and drops lower and lower. Feeling returns to his body, and he feels cold inside and out. I really fucked up.

He can just imagine it—him, dead on his feet, sleepwalking into the kitchen. Grabbing the frozen food out of the freezer and turning the stove on high. Cooking nonsensically with plastic-wrapped chicken breasts and frozen peas. Too fucking asleep to stop the fire from starting, to stop the fire alarm that woke up his sleeping roommate on the couch.

“I used to sleepwalk, sometimes. When I was at culinary school,” he clarifies nervously. Shame douses him, coating him evenly like oil on a pan. “Or, sleepcook, I guess.”

He passes the cigarette back to them. They take it. 

“Shit,” they mutter. “Never heard of anyone doin’ that before.” 

“...Yeah. Me neither.”

The two of them are silent for a while before they speak again. 

“Carmy—why didn’t you tell me? That you—” They laugh dryly, full of irritation. He doesn’t like seeing anger on their face, hearing it in their voice. He doesn’t know if he’s ever heard them sound like this before. “That you’re prone to cooking in your sleep? Don’t you think that’s something I should know? As your roommate?”

“I—I didn’t mean to hide it,” he protests, even though he did.

“We could’ve really gotten hurt, y’know.”

“You’re right, I know, it’s just—it hadn’t happened in so long, so I just thought that I had, that I was…”

I thought I was getting better, he wants to say, but it’s stuck in his throat. It won’t come out. As per usual, he can’t get the words out. 

It always stays the same. 

“...” Strangely enough, their face  softens. “Must’ve been scary the first time.”

“What?” He wasn’t expecting their anger to dissipate so easily.

“The first time you caught yourself cooking your sleep. Were they all like this? With the fire and stuff?”

“Yeah. All the fire and stuff,” he confirms bitterly. A beat of silence. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you. You shouldn’t have had to…put out a fire I made.”

“It’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay you almost burned our place down, but…” The end of the cigarette sizzles, bright and orange as they inhale. “It’s not like you did it on purpose, did you?” 

“Of course not,” he rushes to say, “I would never—”

“I’m just kidding with you,” they laugh. They exchange the cigarette again. “I know you didn’t.”

Impossible, Carmy thinks all of a sudden. The nicotine usually calms him, except not today. Not right now. This is impossible.

“I thought you were mad at me,” Carmy blurts out. He can’t compute seeing a smile on their face right now. 

“I am,” they say calmly. 

“Then why? Why are you—” There’s static in his head, fuzz filling his mouth. “Why aren’t you—you should be—fucking, I don’t know—why aren’t you yelling?”

“Do you want me to be shouting at you?” 

“No! I don’t want that, I just—I just don’t understand.” There’s blood rushing in his ears. “I fucked up, so just—just get it over with already!” 

“I—get what over with?”

“Just tell me that I’m a worthless piece of shit and that you were wrong for ever seeing anything good in me,” he spits out. His eyes feel hot. He doesn’t know where all these words are coming from. “I know you want to say it, so just get it over with. Please.”

A moment of silence, broken by the drive by of a car.

“...Is that really how you think I see you?”

“How could you not?” He laughs bitterly, shakes his head. Images of Michael flash in his head. “I’ve just somehow managed to convince you that I’m worth your time. I don’t know how, but…” Frustration surges inside of him. “But now you know,” he says, finally. 

So this is how it ends, he thinks to himself. I knew it couldn’t last. Nothing ever lasts. 

We’ll call it The Bear, he hears himself saying. Michael and him at Christmas. The drawing he made of the restaurant. 

Michael’s dead, he hears Sugar sobbing over the phone. Her voice is crackly and broken through the speakers. Please come home. Please.

You didn’t even show up for your brother fuckin’ funeral, he hears Richie screaming. Your own fucking brother, Carmen! What the ever living fuck is wrong with you?

This is great, Carmy, Michael says softly to him, the gifted drawing of their restaurant in his hands. The house is on fire. There's so much fire. Thank you.

They don’t say anything for a while, opting to instead smoke their cigarette and stare distantly across the street. When they finally turn to look at him, their gaze pierces him. It’s that look that strips him bare, lays his soul out open for them to pick apart. 

“You’re allowed to mess up on onions,” they say. 

“...What?” Is all he can think to reply. 

“When I was drunk, you told me about how you dropped some onions.”

“No, I remember, I just—why are you saying that now?”

“Because this fire is the same.” They tap the ash off their cigarette, the gray dust shattering in the wind. “People make mistakes, Carmy. It’s okay.”

“This is a lot worse than spilling some onions,” he reasons weakly. They just shrug. 

“Objectively speaking, sure. I can’t deny that. But that’s not really what I’m trying to say…” They hesitate. “Can I speak plainly?”

“Please,” Carmy begs. 

Two cars whiz by before they speak again. 

“I can’t change how you see yourself,” they start. “I’m the same way. I think almost everyone is. I know I can’t make you less hard on yourself. If anything, that’s part of what made you into such an incredible chef.” They exhale shakily. “But this…with me…I don’t want it to push me away.”

“...I don’t want you to get hurt,” he confesses, messily. This isn’t like him, but he can’t seem to stop talking. I care about you too much, he thinks painfully.  

“It’s impossible to go through life without hurting others. Look—I consider you a friend, Carmy. A good friend. And I thought you felt the same, but…”

“I do,” he interrupts urgently. “You’re one of the closest friends I have,” he confesses, and their smile is beautiful. 

…I didn’t mean to say all that, he thinks, startled by himself. That was supposed to be, “I think of you as a friend, too.” 

“Then fuck up some onions. You don’t have to be a perfect person. No one can be, and I don’t want you to be. Besides—I’m not stupid. You’re not tricking me about anything. I’m pretty good at making sound judgments of people.”

“I didn’t mean to insinuate that you were stupid,” he says quietly. 

“I know you didn’t.” They keep being gentle, so gentle. 

“I…I’m not used to this,” he admits, finally. He needs to be honest with them, regardless if saying the truth is  like coughing up glass. “You're a good person. Really good. More than I'm used to, to be honest. I think…I think a part of me doesn't wanna believe it.”

“Oh.” Their pink cheeks could very well be from the cold, or from something else. “I—well. Thank you. That's nice to hear. But, ah, do you think I have some dark alter ego or something?”

“No, not like that. It’s just—there’s always another shoe, isn’t there?”

“Another shoe…” They hum. “Yeah. Unless there isn’t.”

“That’d be a first,” he says, and they laugh. 

“True enough.” The distant sound of the train. “I'm not a perfect person, Carmy.”

“I know. I don't expect that.”

“Then stop expecting it from yourself.”

“...” He blinks, staggered by their bluntness. A million arguments begin and die on the tip of his tongue, but all of them feel as cheap as the last. He knows they're right, and there's not much room for argument there. “I'll try,” he says finally with a nod. It's all he can say.

“I say it like it's an easy thing to do. I know it's not.” Their smile is knowing, rueful. “I certainly haven't gotten over it myself.”

“You also…?” The implication lays silent in the air. They nod. “I’m sorry for starting a fire,” he apologizes again, because he feels like he has to. “And for…freaking out.”

“You are forgiven. But you don’t need to apologize for, like, having emotions. That’s fucked up.” They let out an abrupt bark of a laugh, and it makes him laugh, too. “Is it, like, a stress thing? The sleepcooking?”

You’re worthless, he suddenly hears a familiar voice saying. The head chef. You’d be better off dead. You don't deserve any of this.

“Usually,” he says simply. “I can’t really…predict when it’s gonna happen, though.”

“Unfortunate. I guess it’d be too easy if you could see it coming.” They put out their cigarette on the back of their lighter, flicking off the ash. “How are you doing now?”

“I’m fine,” he responds  instantly, all on instinct. “I’m…better,” he amends, and they look happy with that. “I should be asking you that. Are you alright?”

“Not gonna lie, it was pretty scary, but I’m okay. I can look back at it as a bonding experience.”

“A bonding experience,” Carmy mutters, half out of amusement and half out of disbelief. “I guess you’re not totally wrong.”

“Nobody got hurt, right? And next time, I'll be ready.”

“There shouldn't be a next time.”

“No, I suppose not. But there might be, and that's okay.”

“But—“ He stops. “I'm sorry.”

“I know.” They pat his back. 

“Do you wanna come to family tomorrow?” He blurts out. 

“Huh?” They say, which is a pretty reasonable response. “I mean, probably. What is it?”

“Right, sorry. It's, uh, a thing we do everyday at work. One of the chefs cooks dinner for everyone, and we eat together. It's a way to, ah…have everyone get along, I guess.”

“Oh, cool!”

“And I'll be the one cooking tomorrow,” he adds hastily. God, why is this so embarrassing? “So. Yeah. If you wanna come, then…”

“You mean I get to have your cooking? Of course I wanna come,” they reply, their expression brightening. Carmy's stomach twists inward, giddy. “Oh my god, yeah. As long as it's not weird that I'm there?”

“Not weird,” he promises. “We bring people all the time. Not too many, of course.”

Except for me, he thinks. I barely even eat family enough as it is, let alone ever bringing everyone. You're the only one.

“Okay. Okay!” They make a pleased noise, stepping excitedly in place. “Then I accept. What time should I come?”

“We eat before opening, so come in around 2. The door should be open.”

“Sounds good.” They stop then, fixing him with a puzzled, amused look. “You're not just doing this because of what just happened, are you? Although I guess it'd be cool if you were—”

“I'm not, I'm not. I just…wanted to.” He's not being very convincing. To be fair, it's only half of a lie. “But I will. Make this up to you, I mean.”

“I'm just teasing. You don’t have to, but I won’t stop you. And…thanks for inviting me, I'm looking forward to it.” They yawn suddenly, eyes scrunching shut. “Think we're good to head back in now?”

“Probably, yeah.” He checks his phone. It's 1 AM. “Sorry for keeping you up.”

“It's fine, really. Besides, I did this to you the other night. And, uh—Carmy?”

“...Yeah?”

“I'm really glad you think of me as a friend,” they say, and it sounds like a confession. “I feel super lucky to have a roommate that I can call my friend, too. I…just wanted to say that. 

There are countless unspoken sentiments that Carmy wishes he had the courage, the faith to say. I didn't know how important you were going to become to me, for instance. I don't know if I can go without your company anymore. I’m not sure if I've ever liked someone so much, and that terrifies me. I never wanted to admit how much I like you.

It's too much, far too much to say aloud, but at least, finally, he can admit it to himself.

It does not always have to stay the same.

“I feel really lucky, too,” Carmy says instead, and the words come easy, easier than they ever have before.

~

@zorrasucia

#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #the bear #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fx #others #carmy x reader #carmen x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fanfiction #the bear hulu #my writing #my fics #i had this ready for the past week and i just kept forgetting to post it. that happens when u have a job lmfao #anywayyyy like i said its the end of act 1!!! carmy is gonna be happier and more open with them from here on out... at least he's gonna try #slow progress is still progress! THE SLOW BURN IS SLOW BURNING ALL OVER THE PLACE #rly excited to play arnd with these guys more... any thoughts are appreciated + thanks SO MUCH for the kind words and reads so far!! #Alexithymia fic

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 16

Part 15

The next day, Steve was probably the clingiest he'd ever been. He thought his heat had ended but the new pack bonds brought on a new crest of lust. For the first time since he had arrived, he ate breakfast with everyone in the kitchen. After the meal, Steve made himself comfortable in Eddie's lap.

Eddie and Jeff were talking about concepts for the next album. Gareth was nursing his coffee, still waking up. Grant got up to refill his own mug and Steve's eyes followed him like a hawk. Eddie was pretty attuned to Steve's wants and needs. And when he felt Steve's fingers brush against his lips while staring at the unaware beta across the room, he had a pretty good idea of what his baby wanted.

"Remember sweetness, you gotta use your words. The boys don't know all your tells yet."

Steve whimpered and whined at first, but not longer after he was purring as Grant ate him out on the counter.

Soon enough though, it was time for Corroded Coffin to return to the public eye. And almost just as quickly, the fans with a keen eye noticed a certain omega showing up much more. Not just on Eddie's arm but the rest of the band's as well.

The more it was seen, the more permanent Steve's position appeared. It was February when the competing hashtags #ccomega and #notouromega showed up. Of course, the overwhelming majority of the fans were in the camp of 'neither one is gonna fuck you, so stop wasting your time arguing about it'.

Eddie was reading through a couple of argument threads, snickering to himself when Steve stepped out of the dressing room.

"What about this one?"

The outfit consisted of tight leather pants, a blazer, and a mesh shirt under that. Eddie's hands fell to the magnetic force that was Steve's nipples and started playing with them through the shirt. He let that be his answer and the online comment wars were forgotten for a moment. The new outfit was for an award show the band was attending and throughout the whole thing, Steve ignored his own reserved seat and stayed planted in Eddie's lap.

Given that it was an award show, many eyes were on it, even those not typically concerned with celebrity gossip. When it started spreading to such a degree, even THEY couldn't ignore it. Helen Harrington should have known something was up the moment Irene got that nasty look in her eyes, taking a sip of her champagne flute before speaking.

"Of course, we can't all have such famous children. Steve has been in so many magazines these days. I think the last one actually caught him with his pants down", Irene laughed haughtily.

Helen's face was tight with control. "You're such a charmer Irene. Not most people would admit to reading such tabloid trash."

It was reaching their circle of colleagues, which meant something must be done about their son. She and her husband Richard discussed as much. Steve couldn't be allowed to drag their name through the mud like this anymore.

-----------------------

Steve had basically taken up residence in the band's house. He slept in Eddie's room, which was now functionally his as well. Every morning he woke up with their scents mingled and it made his omega purr with satisfaction. He liked whenever the rest of his pack's scents lingered on his body too. Every time he went out, people knew who he belonged to, even without a bite.

But the thought of getting a mating bite did intrigue him.

He wasn't sure how to bring it up though. They'd already taken a major step in their relationship. Asking to be mated forever seemed like asking too much too soon. But relaxing in the living room, warming his alpha's cock with his mouth while daytime television played on sounded perfect.

And everyday with Steve was perfect in Eddie's opinion. Valentine's Day needed to be more perfect. He had a hunch why Steve was spending February 13th with Jeff and Gareth. It didn't make him any less crabby about it though and unfortunately Grant was left to deal with his crabby ass. He was even crabbier when he realized Steve had awakened much earlier the next day and that Eddie wouldn't be seeing him until evening.

CC had a radio interview and Steve was off doing who knew what. Eddie had half a mind to send him relentless thirst texts but instead just made sure he remembered they had reservations at a private restaurant. Eddie sent a car to get Steve and by 8 they had both arrived. Eddie was practically drooling at the silk shirt Steve was wearing.

And the thrill of later events got to him as he put a hand to Steve's back and felt something lacy underneath the shirt.

"You got a surprise for me, baby?"

Steve's smile was coy. "Maybe. Maybe I did a little shopping and I needed a couple of extra eyes to make sure it looked right."

Well that explained why the other two tagged along. And Eddie was only a little jealous that they got to see his present early. Only a little. Steve was pressed to his side for the entire dinner, feeding each other and feeling his surprise just under the silk.

"Baby, I don't think I can wait any longer", Eddie murmured against his ear.

"I can't either", Steve whispered back, legs rubbing together.

There was no way they were making it back home. Steve needed Eddie inside him now and he let him know that by letting out quiet whimpers directly into his ear. Eddie bit his lip, getting a naughty thought in his head.

"I've got an idea...if you're into it."

Steve was definitely into any ideas he had and soon the bill was paid and they were rushing back to the car Eddie had driven here. Eddie started driving with one hand, then other cupped Steve between the legs. It didn't take long for Eddie to find what they needed.

A 24 hour car wash.

They both climbed into the backseat as soon as the car was set on the track. Steve sunk down on Eddie's cock and rode him without an ounce of shame, letting his voice ring out among the noises of the brushes and soap and water. Eddie knew he must have hearts in his eyes, watching this beautiful creature, shirt falling open to reveal the dark green lingerie underneath.

When they came, they only had a few moments to make themselves decent as the car started to exit the wash. Steve didn't even try, just lying in the backseat with his pants off while Eddie scrambled back to the front. With very little regard for much else, Eddie peeled out of the parking area to preserve Steve's modesty.

Meanwhile, Steve had few qualms about having his cunt out in the backseat. This time of night, it was dark besides a few streetlamps. he reached down to feel his own wetness mingling with Eddie's cum. Eddie wasn't playing any music, so the sound of Steve's pussy sounded like it was echoing in the car. This man would be the death of him.

The rest of the night was spent in romantic bliss, just the two of them. But Steve had already given the rest of his pack chocolates.

The next morning, Steve's dream of a domestic life with Eddie was interrupted by his phone ringing. Eddie groaned at the intrusion and Steve reached out to grab it and see who was calling him. The number had no name attached, but he knew it by heart. He'd known the number since he was young but it had been years since he'd called it. Or since it had called him.

He ignored the call to stop the ringing and cuddled back up to his alpha. Eddie was all who mattered right now. Not them. He ignored the call that came a couple of hours later, and the few that came the next day as well. He didn't even listen to the voicemails left for him. Whatever they had to say, couldn't be anything good.

It was two weeks later when he got his first piece of mail since he started living here and who else could it be from but his parents. He leaned against the fridge as he opened it, finally curious enough to find out what they wanted.

"So what'd they send you?", Eddie asked before spooning some cereal into his mouth.

For a moment, Steve simply stood there, mouth agape as he read the envelope's contents.

"Sweetheart?"

"My parents.... sent me a cease and desist letter."

Part 17 (final)

Tag Team CLOSED

@awkotaco24 @lingeringmirth @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @tartarusknight @velocitytimes2 @mrsjellymunson @trashcanniballecter @paintsplatteredandimperfect @a-little-unsteddie  @sllooney  @starman-jpg  @oxidantdreamboat  @xxbottlecapx   @newtstabber @tiny-enthusiast  @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper @y4r3luv @hello-fellow-nerds  @anonymousbandgirl @alyelf @potato-of-the-lord  @beckkthewreck  @croatoan-like-its-hot @pluto-pepsi @abstractnaturaldisaster @ellietheasexylibrarian @eyesofshinigami @dragonmama76 @greatwerewolfbeliever @chaosgremlinmunson @blackpanzy @millseyes-world @batxsignalsx @lilpomelito @goosesister @libraryofgage @aresthelostboy @royjaimie4eva @silenzioperso @she-collects-smut @lost-wondering-souls @eddielives1986 @marklee-blackmore

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #omegaverse #a/b/o

[sea-of-dust]

Could we please get general relationship headcanons for Ann, Makoto, Futaba, Haru, and Sumire (if you'll write for her) from Persona 5?

Power of LOVE!!!

Phantom thief girls x GN! Reader

relationship headcannons

notes: ima have to start naming p5 annons 💀. Also, THEY'RE MULITPLE?! Thank you for reminding me to add sumire and akechi to the clarification post btw

This girl WILL know your clothing size but by a simple glance and go "you want me to dress you?" You don't have to answer that question you WILL be bought clothes along with other things you like

She likes leaning into you, smirking a bit and whispering in your ear "we should kiss" "!" your face is as you turn around and look at her of course you give in using a book to cover the views of other students,Ryuji, or you'll just look at her shocked. Either way she still ends up satisfied one way or another

She likes when you come to shoots with her. Happy when she's posing and she just sees you throw a little thumbs up, it's always lifts her spirits.

She will not let you leave without her. You could be getting ready to go and she'd just "where are you going?" "Home, my mom called I told you" "take me with you!" "You're already home though" "Home with with you wait here lemme get dressed!" You had to explain to your mom the sudden guest

She's bragging about you. Alot. If she feels like she can't go a day without telling Ryuji "they made me breakfast I love them so much" she thinks of you so much it almost scares her when you tap her shoulder. "Ann?" "Yes my darling?" "." Ryuji looks at her "Why yes my dear" "oh my god" he burries his face into his arms leaning into the desk as you two continue to call eatchother affectionate names.

She probably has your dox from the school ids has been down bad since. It's way more obvious when you two start dating. "You're so soft just like what the Id shows" "excuse me?" "Oh- nothing"

study dates early on are her go tos, as soon as you two get more used to each other she's often on doing simple domestic things with you.

Will sneak around you when you're in shibuya you're not escaping. So when you turn around and see her thinking it's a coincidence it's suddenly a date. She would come home nearly collapsing but it's worth it

Tries not to ask much of you except when it comes to school one homework she KNOWS you didn't do it's over. "Did you do your science packet" "yea why?" "Good what's the answer to 2" "two uhhhh...d?" "...I'm comming over" "ITS JUST THE FIRST PAGE" you bond with Ryuji over this you two come to school after those nights with background music and look like you two about to crawl to class.

She WiLL cling onto you!! If you dare to go anywhere scary you will have to run with her added weight. She tries to run with you and then one ominous can shes weak in the knees, so you try to avoid scary things to the best of your ability

Its obvious she's gonna be dragging you to akihabara. New game came out? "HEY Y/N" "I'm already dressed" "YAY! RUNNING OVER"

She's 100% calling you a cringy name as SOON as you pick up. "Hey my pookie wookie smuckum baby shawty thingy nugget person human thing" "...." "DONT HANG UP"

She wants hugs forever stay with her!! You should sleep over!! You should stay on a call for her for an entire day. Yea she loves these little brain thoughts while you're terrified of them.

Forces you to match pfps on ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING. No matching pfps? You Hate her simple. "I wanna use this theme I found" "do it with me!! 👹👹👹👹" "chill with the emojis!"

Joker and Sojiro WILL run a check on you as soon as Futaba isn't there. You date her you must answer these dubious 5!! As much as the intense looks were exchanged turned to "wadya think" looks back and fourth little to say that approved

She's sending you everywhere with her! You're having dates every week and will almost straight up refuse to let her pay

Very affectionate and often likes showing pda, if you aren't much of a fan it's alright she'll be minimal with it or just stop all together. She does like laying her head on your shoulder while your walking together

Interested in watching shows you like and talking about them she's gonna come up to you and be like "you haven't watched this scene yet?" She doesn't spoil it but it's incredibly tempting to just to get your reaction.

She dosent insist but she loves hand holding in public. She tries not to squeeze too hard but your hands are so warm! When you initiate the hand holding it just makes it so much better.

Refuses to let you sleep in another room. If you so dare to say "you have the bed ill sleep on the couch" expect the very momment you drift to sleep to be lifted off the couch and with her to the bed. If you ever so dare to wake up and try to leave the girls gripping you tight "where are you going?" Her voice is so soft almost distracts from the fact you might need a doctor after this squeeze. "Stay here I don't wanna be left alone with all the plushies" she rubs her face into your back, seeing no other option you slept there.

She daydreams of you SOOOO much. It's crazy she thinks of you so much she finds It hard to focus. She'd think it's embrassing she thinks of you so much but then she'd imagine you brushing her hair to the side and going "you look wonderful today Sumire" girls brain just BOOM

If you'd ever dare to say you haven't eaten, she'll open her bento and offer a bit of it to you. "I don't see why you can't have some?" "Sumire...I don't like sausages" "don't worry there's rice" "you really don't have to"

She wants to try and play a sport with you. Don't wanna run? Table top tennis! Or maybe darts! She will need encouragement, but is super good

She likes asking out on just outings in shibuya to just "I'm watching my senpai's right now wanna see if they'll put their rivalry aside and be normal?" You go with her no matter the reason the only time this back fired was when akechi recognized you and tried to get you to settle if vegans eat animal crackers

She won't tell you when she has an issue that much. Unfortunately for her, you notice quickly hugging her or patting her head. She won't tell you, but she loves when you do this. It's comforting knowing she doesn't have to say a word and you'd be there

#persona 5 x reader #persona 5 #persona 5 sumire #ann takamaki x reader #sumire yoshizawa #sumire yoshizawa x reader #haru okumura #haru okumura x reader #persona x reader #futaba sakura #futaba sakura x reader #makoto niijima #makoto nijima x reader #fluff

[wysteria-clad]

Where love ends

paring: moon boys x fem! reader

a/n: moon boys break up with you

warnings: none

genre: angst

----------

"You really mean that."

You couldn't breathe.

"Y/n." Steven called out.

You felt like a hot rod has struck through the tender flesh of your heart. "You really mean it…" you sniffle, furiously wiping your eyes.

No 'love', just your first name.

You cannot say you didn't see it coming. When you kissed Marc, his eyes didn't shine like they usually do. You didn't fail to notice the lack of fondness in Steven's voice when he called you his love. Jake refused to front a lot around you.

Oh, how much you desperately needed to hear Steven call you that one more time.

They decided to end the relationship with you.

"I know I'm not perfect, I know that. But this? I-" you choke on your words.

Marc watched you sob. "It's not that, Y/n-"

Ouch. No 'baby,' no 'sweetheart.'

"Then what is it, Marc? What is it?"

Sadness. That's it. Not regret. It's been clear to them for months.

"It's not there-"

"No."

You shook your head. You knew it, but you did not want to hear it. You didn't know if you can hear it and bear those words. 'I don't love you. We don't love you the way we used to.'

Past. That's all you were now. A mistake.

As if they read your mind, Jake spoke next.

"It wasn't a mistake, princesa."

But that only hurt you more. Steven and Marc were honest. You weren't their love or baby. But Jake still called you his princess only out of habit. To soften the blow? No amount of sweet words could soften your pain. Maybe you are having a nightmare, maybe you will wake up soon and your boys will kiss your head and say sweet things to you until you smile. Everything will be fine.

All your walls shattered when they uttered the truth. No point in dragging it out.

'We should end this.' Straight to the point, blunt and raw.

You didn't even feel embarrassed about your tears or your breakdown.

Oh, to be loved by them. You fell in love thrice and you got your heart ripped out thrice, consequently. You had to let them go. They loved you once, you were their darling once. Now it's time for you to let them go, you knew you can't force love. Bring back the same feelings and bonds.

Let them go.

Please make them stay.

Your head vs heart.

No matter how hard it was, you knew force is not the blueprint of love. Let them go.

Marc wanted to gather you in his arms, tell you it's gonna be okay and kiss your tear stained lips. He wished, but he couldn't. He didn't want to lie to you anymore. He fell out of love with you two months ago. All he could do was watch you break down. Steven fell out of love with you first, months before Marc did. Guilt of not telling you sooner, took his heart captive with iron chains.

All Jake could see was someone he hurt. He hurt you and he can't do anything now. He tried. He desperately tried, to love you the way he did before. But he couldn't. He hated himself for it. Finally he gathered up the courage to tell you the truth. They couldn't—he can't lie and hurt you like that any longer. You deserved better than that. He couldn't watch anymore. He let Marc front.

Marc rushed to you, but you took a step back. Baby. He wanted to say it, but he didn't want to say something he didn't mean. That hurt him even more. The lie was killing everyone. They could not bear it anymore. It wasn't not enough to cover the wound. They couldn't pretend any longer.

You thought you found your forever. How naive you were. Your forever ends here and now. You saw it coming, yet it failed to prepare you for it. It still hurt. That word couldn't suffice to portray what you were feeling. Leave for the evidence of dried tear stains on your cheeks.

Gathering your phone and keys, you rushed outside of Steven's flat, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I-I'll leave."

They didn't come after you or chase you. You didn't know you felt relief or pain by that. They knew it would only make things worse.

Would you ever come here again? To cuddle in Steven's bed? To hear Marc call you his baby again? To feel Jake's lips on your head. To be the woman they loved?

Too much, it was too much. Your brain tormented you with memories of them.

They weren't not yours anymore, as you were not their woman. They didn't love you like they use to.

This is where it ends.

#wysteria-verse #marc spector x reader #marc spector imagine #marc spector #steven grant x reader #steven grant imagine #steven grant #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley imagine #jake lockley #moon knight x reader #moon knight imagine #moon boys x reader #moon boys imagine #moon boys

[drunktuesdays]

I've been waffling where/how to ask you this and like. you took a long time off writing, how long did it take to accept you were done? was it a slow end that dragged along, or did you just stop one day? I feel like I've lost a part of myself here and I don't know if I should keep trying to hang onto it

this is a really hard thing to answer!!!!!!! yes, i did go through a LONG fallow period. i didn't write a single word from probably 2015-2020. and i did think i was absolutely done. i had SO much fun in teen wolf fandom, and when i fell out of it, i didn't think i would ever feel that strongly about a fandom again. i never could have predicted professional wrestling rpf in one million years.

and no, i didn't stop one day. i think i was pretty much done with teen wolf about six months before i finally wandered away, but i had had so much fun and made such good friends that i didn't want to believe it.

but the truth is that the best fic comes because you have something to say. there's something about the canon that compels you, or you're curious about, or you think would be interesting to explore. and for me and teen wolf, i think there came a point where i realized i wasn't saying anything new or interesting, i was just retracing my steps for the sake of participating.

for me, when i realized that, that's when i decided i was done. i didn't want to keep flogging a dead horse. and having something new and fun and interesting to say isn't something that you can force. or at least--it isn't for me. i cannot guilt myself into writing when i really truly have nothing to say. i can make myself write when i just don't feel like writing, and i can slog through scenes i think are tricky to write, but when i truly honestly have nothing to say, i just have to take a break.

but--i don't think you should feel like you lost something. you didn't lose anything. all that art you did is still there. you still wrote all those stories. and if you go through a fallow period, it doesn't mean it's fallow forever. maybe you need a short break, maybe you need a long break, but you can't kick your own ass about it. you're not going to rediscover your voice by guilting yourself into it. start reading again, watch movies and tv that wake your brain up, daydream, whatever. it'll come back! one day, you're gonna see something that will activate you, and your writing voice will pop into your head, and suddenly you won't be able to type fast enough. this is a spell i am casting on you, on me, and on anyone who wishes they were writing!!!!!!

#asks

[havocskies]

EDDIE MUNSON / LITTLE SISTER! READER HCS

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

if you have the same music taste as him expect him to be talking abt it ALL THE TIME

like seriously the only people who enjoy the same music as him is his band and most of hellfire, he's gonna grab you by the throat from your room and you WILL appreciate some iron maiden and possibly some quiet riot as well

loves to take you to his gigs at the bar no matter how old you are. ofc if you're under 21 he's gonna try his best to keep an eye on you but this dude's ego is through the roof when it comes to his guitar playing and occasional singing so basically as his little sister you have to witness how cool your older brother is

even if you don't share his taste in music or clothing he'll make you a battle jacket or give you one of his old ones that doesn't fit anymore (just pretend like it doesn't smell like weed and whatever else he uses)

annoying. absolutely ruthless. comes into your room just to talk abt the most stupid thing that you don't even care abt. he's probably worse when it comes to gossiping than the popular kids at hawkins

being eddie's sister you probably wouldn't have the best reputation automatically. he's definitely aware and while he doesn't show negative emotions much he feels bad and tries to make it up to you in little gifts or by taking you places. he's determined to prove he's a better brother than what everyone else makes him out to be

doesn't let you touch his guitar but if you showed enough interest in it he'd get some money and surprise you w one of his own. he'd be so proud too, he'd probably want you to join his band and come with him on his gigs

brags about you all the time. you're the best little sister he's ever had (you two are the only siblings) and he wouldn't trade you for the world. even so he'd manage to throw in a little sibling like insults as well

remember when i said he loves to annoy you? yeah. take that to the full extent. if he could he'd likely throw you over his shoulder whenever you begin annoying him or he just feels like it. probably throws you on the couch or whatever wouldn't be likely to give you a concussion. he's not THAT bad of a person

loves discussing music with you even if you don't share his music taste. he'll barge into your room and force you to listen to a random song that he might've found or just likes in general and you WILL listen, even if he has to hold you down in order to do so

fights all. the. time. most of the time he's probably the one starting it simply bc he lives off of annoying people and making them uncomfortable, it's something he loves to do. as your older brother he knows ALL of your buttons and how to annoy you and he uses that to his full advantage whenever he wants to get his way.

holds the fact that he's older over your head all the time no matter how much older he is. he takes pride in it and obviously that means he's superior, so that last bit of icecream in the fridge? it's his automatically. you don't get it.

doesn't want you to end up like him when it comes to his reputation and addiction. he doesn't care abt what people think of him but he wants you to have a relatively normal life. he picked this reputation for himself, you didn't deserve it, too. if he ever overheard someone talking bad about you he'd immediately step in and insist you're WAY better than him, even if you actually aren't. he'll defend you forever

if you also play dnd he'd drag you to hellfire meetings as well (once you're older. the earliest age he'd actually let you tag along is probably 14 since hanging out w freshmen is something he does fairly often) he'd say that the hellfire meetings are serious and little kids aren't allowed. he'd still teach you how to play as soon as you were old enough to understand what he was saying, though

even though he's failed highschool 2 times already he is an absolute nerd, specifically when it comes to language arts. he was probably in a few honors english classes in his earlier years of highschool and when he eventually started caring about school less he stopped getting put into them. he loves to read and often tries to suggest books he likes to you as well

he'd try his best to help you w homework because even though he can't graduate he will certainly make sure you do. he's not the best at math and didn't care much for history but he'd try his best to help regardless if you asked him to

he likely wore eyeshadow and eyeliner in middle school and possibly his earlier high school years so he would in fact LOVE to do your makeup, thanks for asking. he definitely has a few pictures of your younger toddler self in heavy terrifying makeup because he thought it was absolutely hilarious to make you into a metalhead, and not knowing any better you would notice eddie laughing and decide you found it funny, too. uncle wayne was indifferent

doesn't talk abt your dad often if you're too young to remember when he was around. you may have heard eddie and uncle wayne talking about him and asked and both's faces contorted into a sort of sour expression. they tried their best not to talk abt him around you after that

if you were somehow popular and managed to get over the little reputation that was oh so generously handed over to you by the upperclassmen eddie wouldn't quite hate you for it. you're still his sister of course and a high school status wasn't going to change his view of you. he will definitely still tease you over it, though and occasionally ask for you to give your friends a good word on his behalf

his van is MESSY. like seriously, it's horrible. covid 19 probably originated in that very same van. his definition of cleaning the front seat for you is throwing trash in the back so it's at least able to be sat in but it reeks in there

loved to give you piggyback rides when you were younger and even older if it's possible. he'd definitely scare you a few times by pretending to almost drop you or body slamming you into the nearest couch but he'd be a very good older brother when it came to attention

if you were in the hellfire club he'd tease you even more relentlessly and the other boys would likely pick up on it at some point, but he'd insist he and only him could bully you. you were his sister after all, not theirs

if you ever dated anyone from the hellfire club he'd be a little against it at first as he wasn't quite sure how his friends would treat a girlfriend (they're all awkward guys that get no girls, let's be real) but if he realized you were happy w whoever you chose he wouldn't mind at all. he'd be glad one of his friends finally got a girl for once, even if it was his sister

if it was someone he didn't know however it'd be a different story. he knows how guys can be and he doesn't want you going through anything bad at all, he'd live up to his little reputation of possibly being a murderer if anything at all happened to you

if you got a girlfriend or any other kind of partner however he'd be a little shocked but he'd support you regardless. i personally hc him as omnisexual w a preference for men so he'd let you in on his little secret of being a boy kisser and insist there's NOTHING wrong w you for liking any gender other than guys

same goes for if you're trans. while he can't personally relate he obviously loves you no matter what and will support you forever

loves to tease you randomly and give you mean nicknames. it's just what siblings do, as he says, and since he's older he can do whatever he wants obviously

when you first get into high school he tries his best to give you tips on whatever you need to know. he learned the hard way high school sucks unless you're popular, which you likely wouldn't be just by being his brother in general. you associate w eddie you're unpopular, that's just basically how it works

he'd also automatically give you the option of at least hanging around the hellfire club just so you have some friends if you didn't already. he'd recommend whoever was closest to your age to be your best friend and honestly you'd probably be their best friend, they're all very welcoming when it comes to unpopular people and you're also eddie's sister, so you're automatically pretty cool

IF YOU WANT MORE PLEASE SHOW THIS SOME LOVE !!!!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x original character #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x sister reader #eddie munson x reader platonic #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things 1 #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3 #stranger things 4 #stranger things vol 1 #stranger things volume 2 #gareth emerson #gareth emerson x y/n #gareth emerson x reader #hellfire club #welcome to hellfire #hellfire shirt #dungeons and dragons #sister #sister reader #joseph quinn #havocskies #Spotify

[guplia]

My third fic for @badthingshappenbingo!

Fandom: Ninjago

Trope: Rendered Mute

Also available on AO3!

A Voice Gone With the Wind

It was another night in Ninjago City, and Lloyd was going to go to bed in peace.

It had been a week, but it was still hard to believe that Cole was no longer a ghost. Lloyd was really happy for his brother because he personally could not imagine watching all your friends grow old while you stay the same age forever. And not being able to touch water! That's torture!

Little did Lloyd know, tonight he was gonna learn what real torture was.

He entered the bathroom, and locked the door because he knew from unfortunate experience that someone was bound to open the door. He hadn't even made a move yet when the lights turned off. Okay, no big deal. As long as the Bounty's engine was still working everything would be just fine. And Lloyd couldn't hear any screams or feel himself descending so it was just a small problem. But as he couldn't see anything, he had to get out of the bathroom and use it when the power came back. He unlocked the door and tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge.

Okay. Just call someone. Lloyd opened his mouth to scream ‘HELLO?’ when someone gagged him with a cloth and handcuffed him with what was most likely vengestone. The blond turned around and was able to see his enemy as he was holding a lit matchstick. Morro. How…?

Lloyd made muffled noises when Morro spoke up. “If you make even the quietest noise, I'll punish you. I know what you're thinking. Let me explain.” He smirked. “Long story short, I became a human again by entering the rift before Cole did.”

He hung Lloyd to the pole that held the curtains for the bathtub. “Now I'm so sick of you. I never got to have my revenge for not letting me get my rightfully earned role as the Green Ninja! Speaking of which, I think you can handle a little pain… right?”

Before Lloyd could understand what he meant, a muffled scream came out of his mouth as he felt a knife digging through his skin. “Shut up!” Morro yelled. He dragged the knife through Lloyd's torso, but not enough to hit any vital organs. Lloyd screamed again. Morro grabbed him by the collar. “If you make one more noise, there will be consequences.”

He kept ripping Lloyd's skin with the knife, and the blond kept quiet this time, praying that Kai or anyone else would come in the bathroom and put an end to this. Or even better, this whole thing was a terrible nightmare.

Eyes closed, he felt the knife leave his skin, and that was when he started sobbing. He forgot about Morro for a blissful second. He felt a hand squeeze his neck. “What did I say about making noises?” Lloyd thought that would be the end. Morro would choke him to death. Instead, his fate was way worse.

He felt the cloth coming out of his mouth, but as he couldn't breathe anymore, he kept it open for vain attempts at gasping for breath. And that was a horrible mistake.

Morro forced the knife down his throat, and Lloyd had never felt more agonising pain in his life. He kept gagging out blood, knowing this would be the end. He tried kicking Morro, but he knew it was useless.

He then heard a familiar voice. “What's going on in there? Lloyd?” Morro pulled the knife out of his throat and jumped out of the window, to who knows where. Lloyd was hyperventilating now. He was coughing up blood.

He didn't notice Cole breaking the door open, or the scream for Wu to come immediately. What he did notice, however, was Kai at his side, rubbing his back, staring at his body with panicked eyes. Then it all went black.

***

Lloyd didn't really know what was going on. He could hear unfamiliar voices discussing “damage to larynx”, “rendered mute” and “trauma” He finally opened his eyes to see who was stroking his hair.

It was Kai, sitting by his bedside, in what looked like a hospital room.

“Hey, buddy.” He whispered. “I hope you're feeling better.”Lloyd tried to talk, but no noise came out.“Don't try to talk, Greenbean.” Lloyd already knew what had happened. “I'm sorry.”

Kai pulled Lloyd into a tight hug, letting the latter cry into his shoulder.

No noise came from Lloyd's sobs, however. There would never be any noise coming from him again.

#lego ninjago #ninjago #lloyd garmadon #kai ninjago #Ninjago fanfiction #Fanfiction #Bad things happen bingo #Badthingshappenbingo

[geekthefreakout]

Thank you for your "we need to combat people's black and white views in media” post. It’s nice to see someone have a reasonable opinion about something. I feel like a lot of DC comic spaces have the most bizarre takes and honestly think it’s why the state of comics is so bad right now and writers are afraid to take chances or write things that are so generic.

Do you have any unpopular opinions about Babs or Jason? Or anything you would like to see in future comics? You said you enjoyed Jason as a character but what’s your ideal Jason and how do you think he should be written?

Wow, what a lovely ask, thank you Nonny!

First, cuz I know I'm gonna ramble on about the other things- yes, DC is a goddamn mess and at least 48% of the reason is that fans feel especially entitled these days, which makes writers either overly cautious or extremely defensive of anything they try. Fandom spaces can get very toxic very quickly cuz of the whole black-and-white morality thing and the aforementioned entitlement that makes people feel like they get to dictate the direction the art they consume takes. You don't get to do that, people! Stop it.

For Babs- idk if I have unpopular opinions. Like most people, I think she was wonderful and *important* as Oracle, and I wish they would do more than pay lip service to her disability. On the other side of that, I understand that DC Editorial is a mess and that if a writer ever DOES decide to follow through on that "chip in her spine won't work forever" thing, they will need to cut through a lot of red tape to get permission to do so, so I don't really get mad when writers have her as Batgirl still, or have her bounce between Batgirl and Oracle. If she ever does become a full time wheelchair user again, I hope it's done in a respectful way that supports her agency, rather than how TKJ did her. The Young Justice show had an interesting take on that which I didn't mind.

My unpopular Jason opinion is probably that I liked the All-Caste stuff from RHATO N52 and I think letting Jason have a niche as a Bat that deals with mystical stuff and with the nitty-gritty of the criminal underground is a good way to set him apart and give him his own stuff to do outside of Bat Events. Also Generation Outlaw was a cool concept and I enjoy the idea of Jason reluctantly inheriting Bruce's tendency towards "Debatably Accidental Child Acquisition."

That said, my ideal Jason functions as a foil to Batman. I don't want them to be enemies, but I do want them to push each other and challenge each other. I want Jason to poke holes in Bruce's crime fighting philosophy, but to also still have a good relationship with his family. I want Jason to struggle with his own philosophy, as he did in Zdarsky's "Cheer" story, because the way he does things IS riskier than how Bruce does things and sometimes the ends don't justify the means.

I think Jason (like Damian, but Jason is more mature) works wonderfully in stories about redemption and self-discovery as well. Task Force Z had appeal for me in that sense, because I also think that Two-Face (who Jason has history with in his first post-crisis story) ALSO works well in story lines like that.

In the future... Well, my opinion is that there are just too many Bat books and Bat Events. I want DC to let their other characters breathe. My ideal set up would be Batman as a solo series and Tec as a team book, like it was when Tynion wrote it. Then Urban Legends for miscellaneous Bat stories. Nightwing of course with his solo (and please, PLEASE, let that boy stay in Bludhaven and take care of business, stop dragging him back to Gotham every time a rogue sneezes, he has his own shit to worry about). The rest of the Batfam can pop up in Tec and Urban Legends and then be with their respective teams. Titans, YJ, Outlaws, Outsiders, etc. (ETA BoP to this potential team book list of course!)

And then pls no huge Bat Events for at least a year and a half. Let them BREATHE, for fuck's sake!!!!

So... Yeah! Thanks Nonny!

#anon ask #this is fun but i talk too much even when im typing lol #batfam #batfam discourse #barbara gordon #jason todd #batman #dc comics #my lukewarm character takes #nightwing

[ncllywrites]

Shower sex with Urban😮‍💨

this has been in my inbox for ages, i hope whoever requested this sees this and enjoys lmaooo

Shower Fun

urban x reader

wc: 1004

warnings: unprotected penetration, hair pulling, belly bulge, choking, breeding kink i guess?? weird ending bc i didn't know where i was going with this 💔

Raking your fingers through Urban’s unruly curls, you feel yourself get lost in his eyes. “Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” Urban feels his cheeks heat up as he hides his face in your neck to avoid your eyes. “Stop,” he grumbles bashfully. “You know I don’t fuck with that mushy shit.” Pulling back to look at him, you smack your lips “Boy, shut up. Just the other day you said that you didn’t want to sleep because you wouldn’t be able to admire me for a few hours. ‘Don’t do mushy shit’ my ass” you huff before turning away from Urban to reach for the shampoo. 

“Aye, chill out… you know I was high as fuck” he chuckles, turning around so that you could wash his hair. Your nails gently scratch at his scalp, causing a groan to escape his throat. “You won’t be able to walk straight for a week if you keep playing with my hair like that, baby.” 

You turn him around to rinse the suds from his locks, before threading your fingers at the base of his head and lightly tugging, testing your luck with the man. Urban quickly turns you around, pressing your body against the glass wall of the shower. You arch your back, feeling his heavy girth pressing into your thigh. Wiping the fog from the glass, Urban nods his chin towards the mirror in front of you. “Look at you… those tits look so good pressed up against the glass baby. I wish I had my camera so I could look at this forever.”

You couldn’t tell what turned you on more; the vibration of his voice in your ear or the thought of Urb jerking off to such a lewd photo of the both of you while he was on the road with Jack. Reaching between your legs, you tease your entrance with the tip of Urban’s leaky cock. His hips jerk forwards, slipping his entire length inside, the combination of your slick and the water flowing from above your bodies allowing him to glide in with no resistance. “Mmm, fuck baby…  m’so full.” you whine, your head lolling back to rest on Urban’s shoulder. 

With one arm wrapped around your waist and the other hand on your throat forcing you to keep your eyes on the mirror, Urban starts thrusting, the slow, deep strokes sending shivers through your spine. Pressing on the bulge on your lower stomach, Urban slams his hips into your ass, staring at the ripples in awe. “I can feel my dick in your belly, mama… you like that shit?” His words make you clench around his dick, sucking him in deeper. “So deep, baby, I love it!” 

A whimper escapes your mouth when you feel Urban pull out. “Turn around, mama, I wanna see your face when you cum on this dick.” You turn, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Urb, I swear to god if you drop me, I’m gonna cut your hair in your sleep.” He just laughs, hoisting you up, holding you up by your ass, your legs hanging on the side of his waist. “Don’t worry baby, I would never drop y- oops!” Urban pretends to lose his balance, causing your thighs to lock around his torso. “URBAN HENRY WYATT! I’m gonna- fuck…” Your complaints cut short when his cock slides back into your slick entrance. 

Urban rests his forehead on your shoulder as he stands still for a minute, feeling your walls flutter around him with anticipation. “C’mon baby, move… I need you so bad” you cry out, rocking your hips as much as you could being pinned between his body and the glass wall. Urban slightly spreads his legs wider then begins to drive hard, deep strokes into your core, biting down on your neck and leaving a large hickey in his wake. “ Fuck, I’m boutta bust, baby…” Hooking your ankles together behind his back, you drag Urban in for a sloppy kiss, tongues and teeth clashing together before pulling back and staring into his hooded eyes. “I want you to cum inside me… wanna feel it drip out” you moan as you lean back in, missing the feeling of Urban’s plush lips on your own.

Urban gave you three sharp strokes before you felt his thighs tense below you and a familiar warmth spread throughout your center. Slipping his hand between your bodies, Urban’s skilled fingers rub fast circles on your clit, hoping to bring you as much pleasure as you just gave him. You finally cum, the clenching of your walls milking Urban dry. Gently setting you on the floor with a hand on your waist to keep you steady, Urb pulls out, taking a mental photo of the steady stream of cum that leaks from you. 

“You good? Not gonna fall over if I let you go?” Urban asks half-jokingly as he moves to grab your loofah and body wash. Your legs are sore from being held open in one position for so long but you can’t let Urban have the satisfaction of knowing that he made your legs feel like jello. “I’m fine, Urb. You didn’t even do anything that special, Mr. Big Whore” you laugh, poking Urban in his ribs. His hand slides from its place on your waist, over your breast, and finally wrapping around your throat as he pushes you back into the glass. “Come again? Last time I checked, I was deep in those guts while you begged me to fuck a baby into. Do I have to remind you who I am? Don’t play with me, Y/N.”

Staring up at Urban with wide eyes, you swallow hard, afraid that he might slide back into your abused entrance and overstimulate you to the point of tears. Urban’s face switches from stoic and serious to his signature loopy grin when he feels your throat move beneath his hand. “I’m just fuckin’ with you, baby. Now c'mere and let me wash your back.”

taglist: @always-as-i-am

#urban wyatt fic #urban wyatt #urban x reader #urban wyatt x reader #urban wyatt smut

[nyxicnymph]

No matter which way, it's pretty gay.

(Original fiction story for pride month.)

Cross stared at the circle of people on the floor, blinking slowly. They didn't know their roommate had been hosting a party.

"Uh, hey?"

"Cross! Did I forget to tell you? Whatever, come here, sit down with us!" Charlotte said excitedly, practically grabbing their arm and dragging them over.

Cross hesitated. "I'll throw off your order," they pointed out, meaning the obvious man-woman-man-woman-etc order that everyone was sitting in. Cross would stick out like a sore thumb.

"It's spin the bottle, not statistics. It doesn't really matter!" Charlotte winked. "Besides, I know you don't care that much."

"Well, no, but... Spin the bottle? We're not in high school, Charlotte."

"But it's fun, come on, you'll have fun too. Please?"

Cross rolled their eyes. "Fine, I'll play. But next time, warn me when you have a party, okay?"

"Yes, yes, of course, come on, sit! We haven't started yet."

Cross and Charlotte both sat down, and someone, a guy Cross didn't recognize, placed an empty Coke bottle in the center. Charlotte, as the party's host, went first.

Cross got bored of watching the game pretty quickly, and instead scrutinized the faces of the people around them, wondering if there was even anyone to kind of hope the bottle landed on during their inevitable turn. There were a few pretty people there, but only a few Cross really knew. They were quite surprised to see two of their more frequent classmates in the circle.

Ace and Bea were in the same degree program as Cross, so Cross saw the two of them a lot. Even if all three of them weren't in all the exact same classes, they were still in a lot of them, and had even worked on a few projects together. Cross knew those two quite well, and wasn't ashamed to admit to people they really trusted that they maybe liked both Ace and Bea, but didn't know if either of them were queer. Or into their specific brand of gender-fuckery. Whichever.

Cross watched them both get picked by the bottle for a few others. Some people only kissed the person of their preferred gender, some kissed whoever the bottle landed on even if they weren't their preferred gender, some kissed whoever because they didn't have a preference, and two even refused a kiss. Nice.

Cross thought about refusing to play, but really, that would be a spit in the face to Charlotte and her dear, sweet attempts to get Cross a date. Or two. You know, whatever.

Surprisingly, no one had landed on Cross yet, and suddenly, it was their turn. Cross hesitated for a minute, but then reached out and sent the bottle spinning. It spun for what felt like forever, and with every rotation, Cross couldn't help but hope it landed on either Ace or Bea, and not someone they barely knew.

The bottle began to slow down as friction gained the upper hand.

Cross held a breath.

The botlle slowed more, the end appearing closer and closer to Ace.

Cross felt their shoulders tensing in anticipation.

The bottle slowed to a mere crawl, passing over Ace.

Then it stopped.

Between both Ace and Bea.

Cross panicked, and looked to Charlotte. She just shrugged.

"I guess you have to pick!"

Cross stared at Charlotte really hard, hoping the force of their staring would break all psychological reasoning and allow Charlotte to hear what Cross was very loudly thinking at her.

How can I choose? How do you expect me to pick?! Do I only get to pick one? This would be my first kiss!

Charlotte simply stuck her tongue out. "What's your choice, Cross?"

Cross felt it as everyone's eyes were on them. They glanced between Bea and Ace, feeling paralyzed. They opened their mouth after a minute.

"Can I say both?"

A whoop rose up from the circle, and Cross flinched. Charlotte burst out laughing.

"Sure, go ahead, I'm not gonna stop you!" Charlotte wiggled her eyebrows. "But you still gotta pick who you kiss first!"

Oh, god.

Cross closed their eyes and sighed. "Okay. Um." They opened their eyes and met Bea's. They smiled softly. "I guess Bea first?"

Bea tucked her head down shyly, her skin too dark to show blushing, but her body language being more than enough to tell that she was flattered. "Okay!"

Cross approached Bea, and knelt in front of the girl. They leaned in to her ear and whispered, "I hope you don't mind being my first?"

Bea shook her head enthusiastically, her braids bouncing. "Why would I mind?"

Cross smiled, placing a hand on Bea's cheek, and finally kissing her. Short and gentle, yet Cross felt oddly energized by it. They parted from Bea with a giddy grin, and turned to Ace.

Ace had been waiting patiently, a faint look of anticipation gracing his face. Cross took his hands gently.

"Are you okay with this?"

Ace nodded. "I don't mind at all."

Cross kissed him then, same as they did Bea, and just like with Bea, they felt that energy flow through them.

Maybe it's adrenaline. Maybe it's maybelline. Brain shut up.

Cross returned to their seat with little waves at both Ace and Bea, just as Charlotte stood up. She clapped her hands loudly.

"Okay! That was exciting, I don't think we can top that. Let's go play something else! Like ping pong."

"We don't have a ping pong table."

"The common room does." Charlotte pointed to the door. "But if you wanna stay and study or sleep or whatever you do, that's fine too, I'll make sure we don't get too rowdy."

Cross hesitated. Most people had already gotten up and were getting ready to leave the dorm. Normally, Cross would stay behind. But now, Ace and Bea were standing in front of them, both holding a hand out to them.

Charlotte laughed again. "Looks like you have something to talk about!" She cheerily left the room. "One less thing on your bucket list, right?"

"I don't have a bucket list because God won't let me die!" Cross yelled at Charlotte's retreating figure, completing a running bit they had. Charlotte simply laughed in response again before leading her party out of the dorm.

In the end, Cross took both Ace and Bea's hands.

#nyx writes stuff #queer #genderqueer #polyamourous #ambiamorous #pride #demisexual #queer fiction #writeblr #writblr #writing #pride writing #original story #original characters

[sunnysanae]

chase | hinata shoyo

syn. it's the summer after graduation, the summer before your friend leaves. you were thinking the two of you could fly a little higher, what's the problem with that? an. shoyo and the reader stay as friends, i wanted this to be a friendship fic genre. fluff/angst, gn! reader wc. 1.0k+

the sound of giggles and waves blissed around your body. irresponsibly splashing sea water at each other, and running back and forth from the sand. crystal blue cooling around your knees, as the heated ball of sun above you all gently grazes on your skin. today, you were spending your precious summer holiday with the friends who have supported you most through high school. each memorable moment you've had in the past years, shared with each other; the embarrassing moments, the laughs, the cries. today was just one more.

you ran to catch the blue and yellow ball, racing and sliding over to the left-hand side of the court. extending both your arms and gripping your thumbs to bump the ball. the ball of orange hair behind you swiftly moving, then launching a large jump, successfully spiking the ball over to the other side.

"buam!" you hear a sound almost resembling a fart. passing your vision to the other side of the net, where you spot the raven-haired boy with a shade of black looming over his features, furiously rubbing at his head.

ah, the forceful beach volleyball had violently assailed kageyama's head. the said boy looked as if he was about to plan the assassination of the citrus-headed spiker, dragging his feet to join the tsukishima under the umbrella. you bounced back onto the sand and held onto your stomach, hair splaying into the sand. Your laughter never seemed to come to an end.

raising your elbow to extend a hand from your current position, offering hinata a high-five. then, reverting back to lying flat on the baked sand, patting on the spot beside you to signal hinata to join you. the boy lazily dropped himself down to the beach mattress beside you, smiling. "good shot shoyo" you sent him a tart remark, winking. you enjoyed the untroubled state you were living in, spending time with friends. the realisation that this was the last time you were meeting up with your precious companions struck you like a brick. every single one of you was going to pursue the dreams and aspirations that you held ever so close to your hearts. adulthood intruded on your life in an unsettling way, but it exposed you to so many amazing opportunities. though with new opportunity came the readiness to sacrifice, in this scenario the people you love and trust.

"hey, name?" hinata began to speak, "'ya alright?" noticing the grimace in your expression. the silly joyful mood changing into one of worry. "yeah." you made out, fluttering open your eyes to the blazing sun and the sunny boy resting beside you. as if he was able to sense your worry, he gave you a comforting look. his lightly tanned, slender fingers reached over to a strand of your hair colour locks, brushing through it carefully in a pacifying way. his other hand making its way to yours, warmly cupping them, the heat from his palms convecting the back of your hand.

the sensation resembled the moment you step foot into a café with heating in the cold winter. like the sensation of melting into a hot bath. hinata's warmth cleared your worries and provided you strength, just as he always has through the difficult times you've persisted through together. almost as if he was trying to assure you that friends would always be there for each other; how he would be there for you. "'mm. everything's gonna be alright." he hummed, lilting his familiar energized voice.

you closed your eyes to reminisce on this moment, inhaling deeply and contracting your diaphragm. if you were granted permission, you would wish to stay in this moment forever. things didn't have to come to an end. breathing in deeply the sweet scent of tangerine and the salty aroma of the sea. the sweet scent of tangerine? you took two more sniffs to find the origin of the fragrance. "shoyo?" you whispered. "'hm?" he piqued, raising from his spot, leaning over to front you. "you stole my cologne?" forcing your voice into a stern tone, glancing sharply at the boy. his soft look morphed into one of mortification, pupils constricting, with a berry haze powdering his sunburnt cheeks. rapidly responding with agility, leaping to start a sprint. tightly gripping the blue bottle in the right pocket of his beach shorts. grinning sheepishly to you, and blasting off to a run. he tried to choke back the cackle, holding his cramped ribcage. you hunted him from the warm sand into the cold water, throwing residue of both in his direction. "name, is this really necessary?" he shouted, running to hide behind the umbrella where tsukishima darted him an annoyed eye. he coughed on his chuckles while taking some seconds to restore his breath. none of which wiping the sneer off his features. "if you think it isn't necessary, then stop running!" you rolled your eyes, retorting with sass. what he took was tom ford! and so, he hopped into another trial of escape. prancing, galloping and pelting in the direction of the lapis water once more; breathy laughs exhaled into the pure air, messing with your smile. thus you would set off to pursue him again, shuffling closer to your bright star shining atop the horizon line. your chase would continue, your feet bristling to follow his footsteps on the cornsilk beach. just as these good times have been and always will be.

instead of worrying what comes next, you'll enjoy the present moment. you were no longer troubled by what was to come, or how far you would be from your buddies. there was a tacit understanding that with every challenge you face, and every conflict that arises, hinata would be there by your side.

no matter the distance between the two of you, the warmth of his hand will forever have its imprint clutching on yours; and no matter where you will go, you'll always be able to hear his laughter. the distance was never something that distanced the two of you; so may the both of you fly high to reach your goals and aspirations. may the chase to reach the stars never end.

in the end, you were thinking, 'the two of you could always fly a little higher, what's the problem with that?' as the two of you circled each other in the cyan water, under the smouldering sun.

#hinata shoyo #hinata shouyou #kageyama tobio #tsukishima kei #karasuno first years #karasuno #hinata shoyo fanfic #hinata x reader #hinata shoyo x you #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyo x y/n #hinata shouyou x reader #haikyuu fluff #hinata shōyō #hinata shoyo fluff #hinata shoyo haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! #hq shoyo #shoyo x reader #shoyo hinata x reader #hq #haikyuu x gender neutral reader

[elvisabutler]

you said to let you tell us things about priscilla!reader x austin soooo - is there anything you want to share or talk about regarding them?? any hcs you’re dying to share??? im all ears!!

please blame this on me finally listening to the podcast where austin is talking about pounding a vanilla pod and stuff. i really would like him to make me grilled white peaches. but also i'd love to be on a baz luhrmann set now like the wrap party sounds like my actual dream. manifesting that shit for my future tbh. also tw: daddy kink, angst, the usual. ( also in case anyone is curious, i am toying with the possibility of the end of this blurb being canon proper for this series. )

i never wanted anything so much than to drown in your love

so consider. there was a wrap party at baz's house after filming was one. in one world it happens the day of/the night of and it is the last bit of happiness austin and you end up having until- well until everything gets fixed. it's filled with oysters and dancing and swimming in the ocean with baz and watching the sunrise and murmurs of "you're my forever, austin. i can feel it." and "i'm gonna marry you, little dove. when we get back to the states i'll ask you, alright?" "you don't know if i'll say yes." "don't i though?"

but austin gets sick right after and calls you 'cilla and you find the onesie and the ring and you cry so hard you swear your eyes are going to forget what it's like to not be swollen. he tries to break out of the hospital when he realizes how bad you're crying because something has to be so very very wrong if his dove is crying like that. you never cry like that.

"it's fine, daddy." you hiccup. "i'm fine, austin."

"you're not, dove, you're not. tell me what's wrong, i'll- i need to fix it. they can let me out. i'll demand they let me out."

you so rarely call him austin any more unless you were on set or if you were saying something that mattered to you. something is wrong and he knows it but the haze of the pain medication makes him forget any clarity he has about it. and doesn't that start the whole thing?

but consider in another time and another place, maybe it's the real actual thing. the wrap party happens after austin gets sick because it was like the movie itself was holding him up up up and now he's got to crash down down down.

everything stays the same, you find the onesie and the ring and you cry and he calls you 'cilla and birdie and it's a mess. you don't break up with him just yet. you need to ask him what's going on but then baz is talking a wrap party and all you want to do is sleep with austin and maybe ask him why he called you 'cilla, maybe fix this ache that you have in your chest at the idea that he doesn't love you and that he loves the idea of someone you've crafted in your head. perfect for austin's elvis but not for austin the almost 30 year old from california.

but austin is dragging you out and baz is saying nessun dorma and so you go. you act like nothing is wrong and austin thinks nothing is wrong and everything is fine. you dance and you eat oysters and you go out to the ocean to watch the sunrise with baz and baz goes to the shore to enlighten austin on nessun dorma.

"i'm going to marry you, darling." he says looking at the way the light hits your hair.

"aus."

"no, i mean it. i never- i never really wanted to marry vanessa, she wanted it too early and it scared me so much i didn't- i never thought about it honestly with her. but i can't-" he pauses and pulls you closer to him. "i can't picture a life without you in it. not any more. i want you in my life."

it makes you skin crawl but your body feel warm in ways you haven't felt since- maybe since pere told you he'd still remain your friend or when- maybe you don't actually ever remember feeling this way. it makes you pause and think about your next words.

"you're going to have to." you whisper, kissing his neck knowing this will be the last time you can.

"what, little dove?" he forces you to pull away from his neck. "what does that mean, y/n?"

"you know what it means, dad- austin." you stop yourself from calling him daddy. "we've- you literally called me little dove before you said my name."

"because you're my-" you stop him.

"you had to think about what my name was, didn't you? i can't be with someone who has to think of what my name is because you're so used to a nickname- a title." you're pulling away fully now, heading back to the shore because this is too much for you. his face is contorted into a look of anguish you want to kiss away but you know you can't, that you shouldn't.

"no! where is this coming from? we were fine-" you both are swimming back to the shore him chasing after you and you just trying to put some distance between you like that first chemistry test.

you're finally on the beach again and baz is playing the opera like he's john cusack in say anything and you and austin have to pretend nothing is wrong in front of him. both of you having to pretend the tears in your eyes are the ocean water versus anything else.

austin pulls you close to him as you both go inside. "we'll- can we talk about this later? please?"

you should say no, you should tell him there's nothing to talk about and that your decision is final, you're breaking up with him, your flight is already booked but- you're selfish. you're young and selfish and you never wanted anything more than you've wanted to be austin's dove. so you lie.

"sure."

you lie and lie and lie until you're curled up in his arms and maybe he thinks he fixed it. that you'll be fine. or maybe he lies to himself and knows he hasn't but he'll take this morning with you before you do whatever it is you plan.

#austin butler x priscilla actress reader #i have literally had this in my head since i listened to austin telling the story. #i like how today has been presley reader. chicken. and this. #this fandom y'all. #austin butler angst #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #i used a random ask for this. basically this is secretly how i write all my priscilla actress blurbs/headcanons. just pull up an ask. #my playlist for them is both depressing and very dance-y. it's weird. #austin butler

[thetimelordbatgirl]

A big reason why I like the Black Panther films is that you can totally ignore everything else and the story works fine. You can forget Civil War, Infinity War, and Endgame, just watch the first film and then its sequel. I didn’t like Captain America having his third film be changed to Avengers 2.5 just because marvel wanted to compete with Batman V Superman that same year, or Planet Hulk getting a half-assed adaptation in Thor 3, or Wanda stealing the show from Doctor Strange in his own sequel. Cameos can be fun but those were a bit much. The worst offenders are the mcu Spider-Man movies because Peter is shown being pretty dependent on characters like Iron Man, Nick Fury, Doctor Strange, and even versions of himself from older movies. And both Iron Man and Doctor Strange were responsible for the villains showing up in those films.

I will say due to the...really badly handled introduction of Skaar in She Hulk, its likely we could potentially get a Planet Hulk adaption down the line hopefully, but at the same time, as you pointed out, they already took half of that adaption in Ragnarok with Hulk landing on another planet due to leaving for space at the end of Age Of Ultron (another set up that went in weird places...at least it didn't go nowhere I guess like most MCU set ups lately). And your not wrong on the others: Civil War was basically MCU trying to compete with Batman Vs Superman (and yet somehow, Batman Vs Superman is the one getting dragged still when I'd happily rewatch it over Civil War) while also giving Captain America's film to Iron Man basically, and Wanda basically took over a film that wasn't hers to the point every character is depowered just to make her look better as remember: Doctor Strange is meant to be a powerful sorcerer as is Wong and the other sorcerers and even Miss America in the comics is pretty powerful, but they all depowered just to make Wanda this powerful villain that takes over his film that should have been him facing Mordo with the set up first Doctor Strange did, but nope I guess (and given how they planned to have Wanda kill Mordo before it was cut from film...maybe Mordo escaped being in this film...at least main universe him, anyway...).

And oh god, don't get me started on the MCU treatment of Spiderman. At least when you watch the OG trilogy and Amazing Spiderman films, you know they spidey films and you see Peter doing everything on his own with his villains having some form of connection to him. MCU???? Tony Stark caused the first two villains and Peter just happens to get caught in the messes each time and No Way Home can try all it wants: Strange should have told Peter about the spell PRIOR to doing it and therefore, if Peter did still do his stupid mistake, it would be his fault, but no, Strange doesn't, and therefore Strange's fault too. Plus its funny as hell they clearly wish they got to do Green Goblin and Doctor Octopus and Electro and Sandman, but they didn't, so they drag the prior Spiderman films versions of them into this Spiderverse rip off and force a connection between MCU peter and Spiderman films Green Goblin via fridging Aunt May, because beyond that, MCU Peter has zero connection to these villains and the other two Spidey's have more development with the villains then he does.

Like, there's fun little cameos everyone whose seen prior stuff can enjoy (Doctor Who coming to mind here along with DC's Shazam! and Black Adam), and then there's the MCU having the cameos take over the whole film somehow, meaning your forced to watch prior stuff to understand. And as much as I can agree Black Panther is easy to watch because it doesn't rely on prior stuff (with the only set up being in the end credits where we see Bucky), gonna have to sadly point out Wakanda Forever does have that stupid Valentina stuff shoved in to set up Thunderbolts, though gonna assume that was on higher up's end and not Ryan Coogler's end, since its basically apart of their pattern in the MCU at this rate.

#anti mcu #mcu critical #tho ngl not huge on wakanda forever myself #but only cause of how t'challas death and riri were handled #and as someone who doesn't see the hints of namor x shuri #but at the same time its probably the better movie of phase four next to shang chi #as shang chi is also easy to watch without prior stuff

[softguarnere]

Call A Medic (But Not For Me)

Babe Heffron x reader

Request: Can I get a reader that embodies the "call an ambulance call an ambulance but not for me" meme, but the reader actually gets hurt? I have not have a specific pairing in mind. How about do a character that you haven't written yet? Also, welcome to the fandom!

A/N: Thanks for the welcome, Anon! :) I'm not gonna lie, this fic didn't really turn out the way that I wanted it to (just one of those days where the characters won't do or say what you want them to, ya know?), but I hope that it's okay and that you like it. 💕 (This is written for the fictional depiction from the show -- absolutely no disrespect to the real life veterans!)

Warnings: The usual HBOwar stuff: blood, injury, swearing, guns

It's not difficult for the replacements to find themselves in awe of the original Toccoa paratroopers. But Babe finds it especially easy to be impressed by you. Because if he's being honest with himself, you're one of the bravest and most badass people that he's ever met. From the second that he first saw you in a pub shortly before the jump into Holland, drinking Nixon under the table and then still beating him at darts, he knew you were a force to be reckoned with -- a notion that was only confirmed after he saw how well you handled yourself after everything that happened with Market Garden and Arnhem.

So even though Bastogne is cold, and he's spent a lot of time in his foxhole feeling almost hopeless, if there's one person that he's glad to still have with the company, it's you. Which is exactly what he's thinking about as the two of you tromp through the snow-covered woods, trying to find the line after another failed attempt at bringing back plasma for Roe and Spina.

"Babe," your voice brings him back to the present moment. "Where the hell are we?"

Frosty air burns his eyes as he squints through the snow, trying to make out any familiar landmarks. All the trees look the same. The snow is falling so fast that any footprints start to be filled in as soon as they're made. You've been walking forever -- you should have found third battalion by now.

Snap!

Before he can answer, you gasp as the ground before you gives way, swallowing you up to your hips. You look back at him and laugh, your eyes crinkling, like you didn't just scare both him and yourself.

He extends a hand to you. "You need any - "

"Wer ist da?" A muffled voice from underneath the snow in front of you demands.

"Shit!" You're reaching for Babe's hand when the snow in front of you lifts as a German soldier jumps up from his foxhole -- the very hole that you've just found yourself in.

It happens so fast that Babe feels like he's moving in slow motion, watching it all play out in disbelief. The German cries out in shock, raising his gun as he points it at you. Your own gun is slipped off your shoulder in a split second as you whip it forward, using it to knock the German's out of his hands.

The snow keeps it from skidding as far as you would like, but at least it's no longer aimed at your chest. You aim your own gun and squeeze the trigger, only to be met with a strange sound.

"It's jammed!"

The German starts to make a move to grab his gun. He lunges forward, hands outstretched, only to be stopped by you cracking your rifle against his head like a baseball player hitting a homerun. By some stroke of luck for him, and utter misfortune for you, he's moving so quickly that the hit doesn't inflict much damage, but does elicit a string of loud German words that Babe can only assume are curses.

With the German distracted, he reaches down into the foxhole, hooks his hands under your arms, and drags you up out of the hole. "Come on! We gotta get outta here!"

"I almost got him!" You've trained your jammed gun on the German -- still scrambling for his own -- but Babe grabs you by the forearm and tugs you after him.

"What? Are you tryin' to end up back at an aide station?! We gotta move!"

"I'm movin'! I'm movin'!" His grip is so tight that you have to wrench your arm from his hand so that you can turn around and run properly rather than have him drag you back towards the line.

Scattered gunshots fill the air and you stumble slightly as you run, the both of you panting and heaving as snow kicks up around you. Babe only stops when he reaches his foxhole, sliding down inside and running a hand over his sweaty face as he gasps. He expects for you to slide down next to him a second later, but you don't.

"(Y/N)?" He peers over the edge of the foxhole.

You stand a few feet away, staring down at your hand. It takes a second for him to register than it's stained red. And then suddenly he's out of the foxhole, by your side and yelling, "Medic!"

"Babe, I'm okay."

"Okay?! Christ, (Y/N), you're bleedin'!"

"He grazed me, that's all." Footsteps crunch through the snow behind you as Doc Roe approaches. Your eyes widen, darting between him, your bloody hand, and Babe. "Babe, don't let them take me off the line."

"(Y/N), you got hit!"

"He grazed my arm!"

Roe pauses a few feet away, wary at the panicked and angry tone of your voice. When he approaches, he walks slowly, hands out, voice soft, like he's just encountered a wild animal that he's trying not to spook. "Hey, (Y/N), you wanna let me look at that?"

You clamp your bloody hand back over the wound on your arm. "Doc, I'm fine, honest. You should see the other guy. If anyone needs a medic, it's him, really."

Roe doesn't listen. There's still some distance between you, but he squints at your arm and nods. "It doesn't look too bad."

"Like I said, he grazed me."

"Probably just need to be bandaged up." He meets Babe's eyes and nods, assuring him that you're okay.

"So I won't have to be shipped out?"

"No, I don't see why you would."

No one misses the way you mutter, "Oh, thank Christ" under your breath, or how you flinch a little under Roe's gentle hands as he bandages your arm, but for your sake, Doc pretends not to notice it. Babe, on the other hand . . .

It's another unforgivingly cold and sleepless night on the line. Even huddled together under a blanket and with the tarp covering the top of the foxhole, any morsel of heat you can produce manages to escape before it can do any good.

It doesn't matter, though. Not really. Babe wouldn't be able to sleep if he tried -- not with the image of you staring down at your blood-covered hand etching itself onto the backs of his eyelids any time that he so much as blinks.

"You're stubborn."

The back of your helmet almost knocks against his chin as you turn to look at him in the darkness. "What?"

Babe just nods. "Just thinkin' about how you didn't want to admit you needed a medic. You're stubborn."

"Not stubborn," you huff -- very stubbornly, proving his point. "Just . . . Can I tell you a secret?"

If you didn't have his attention before, you do now. "Of course."

"Scared."

"What?"

"I wasn't being stubborn, Babe. I was just scared."

"Of what?" There are countless horrors that everyone has encountered since coming to Bastogne, but after being stuck with them day in and day out, they start to lose their power, until they dull, like an old knife, no longer inspiring fear. Then you start to feel brave, like you can handle being on the line, until a new horror that you didn't even know you could fear comes along and the process starts again.

But you, being scared? Babe can't imagine anything in this frosted nightmare of a place that could inspire such a feeling in someone so confident and composed.

You let out a small laugh. It sounds defeated. "Never mind. You'll think I'm stupid."

"No I won't." He nudges you under the blanket. "Promise."

You huff out another small laugh. "I was afraid that I would be taken off the line and to a field hospital or something. I was afraid of being separated from the company . . . Of being separated from you."

Oh.

Oh.

"From me?"

"Yeah." A pause while neither of you can quite figure out what to say. Then you, always so brave, "I'm glad that we found each other, even under the circumstances."

"Me too." It takes him a minute, but under the blanket, his hand finds yours and he squeezes it lightly. "I wouldn't let them separate us."

"I know you wouldn't." He feels you squeeze his hand in return. "Guess we're stuck with each other for the rest of the war, huh?"

"Well, since we're both so stubborn about it, I guess we are," he teases. Through the darkness, he can hear your small laugh, and picture your smile as you tuck yourself closer beside him under the blanket.

Babe can be stubborn when he wants to be -- and, like your earlier stubbornness -- maybe part of his reaction is born out of fear. But he makes up his mind then and there that nothing is going to come close to hurting you the rest of the war. If anyone tries, they're going to be the one who needs a medic.

#someone tell me why I work on/go to upload fics in the middle of the night #and am shocked every time that I find typos #as if I didn't think it would happen? #babe heffron x reader #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers #babe heffron #eugene roe #band of brothers fanfic #anonymous #band of brothers imagine #my writing

[dystopian-reverie]

Hi (this is wysteria-clad) just tossing idea of Tamil reader x moon boys.

Imagine when you take the boys to a family function and they see so many immediate and extended family members, they are nice to them, constantly giving them something like eat especially sweets, excitedly hugging them, and the boys get overwhelmed in a good way. Hello, Indian weddings 😂

Title: Vanna Kolathil Vaanam! (The Sky, a Colourful Mess!)

Pairing: Desi!Reader x Moon Boys

Rating: General, pure wholesomeness

Summary: Guiding your boyfriends through Indian culture and customs, which you know can be quite overwhelming. Indian family and neurodivergent western boyfriend bonding time! Unrealistic desi family representation that made me wish I literally had these people as my relatives.

A/n: *cracks knuckles* all my time spent daydreaming about dragging the Moon boys into Desi, especially Tamil culture is at last put to use, I was BORN ready to answer this ask to the point where I'm turning this into a fic, so here I go.

Not proofread so if you see any glaring mistakes, no you didn't.

Translation to all the words and phrases is included at the end.

Convincing your family that you're going to bring your current boyfriend to this year's Diwali, as you guessed, wasn't an easy feat.

The moment you opened your mouth and the word "Boyfriend" spilled out, your entire family, extended included, nearly pounced on you, with an exception of your cousins, who you were hoping would save you and have your back from the elders.

The words following didn't help them calm down any further.

"He isn't Tamil??" Your uncle asked anxiously.

"No, Mama, he isn't-"

"Oh, a multi-cultural wedding in the future then!" Your younger cousin chimed in, putting in his dime to make this as light-hearted as possible.

"A North Indian then? Ayy, do we all finally have to learn Hindi?" Your aunt joked, getting collected chuckles from everyone in the room.

Forcing a laugh that sounded like an orca whale choking, you gulped. This is gonna be harder than you thought.

"He isn't an Indian, aththa, he is... Well, he was born in America, then spent some time in London, but he travels around the world a lot,"

"Hold on, he's an American?? Like NRI?" Your younger aunt asked.

"No, chithi, he isn't brown, at all-"

"Ada kadavule!" Your grandma gasped.

Shit. When the oldest in the pack are displeased, then your entire plan of introducing your boyfriends to your family might as well go down the drains.

"A white man. My daughter is going to marry a white man," Your dad kept murmuring in disbelief.

"He isn't white either," You mumbled. "He is of Latino descent"

Your family stared at you, wide eyes blinking at you. You knew how alien this is all to your family. Sending you off to America for your higher studies, as they all expected, came with more consequences than they'd thought.

They all were trying their best to be supportive and change their worldviews to accommodate a person into this wonderful family, and it meant the world to you. This could've easily been way worse, as bad as you disowning them all and running away to him forever.

Steven's calming and reassuring words echoed in your brain. He had asked you to be confident and level-headed while talking to your family, promising that everything was going to turn out fine.

It took Marc months to finally tell you that he's ready for you to talk about him to his family. You never pushed him, or constantly brought up the topic. You gave him all the time and space he needed to mull over that idea. Sharing your childhood stories meant him learning all about Indian family dynamics and whatnot, and isn't that enough for a poor Western man to fear for his life?

"So how big is your family?" Jake had asked, making you nearly choke on your idli.

"You do not wanna know, chellam," You gulped some water and went back to eating.

"Guess we all have to download duolingo then," Your younger uncle said and everyone laughed.

"So who is he? What's his name?" Your mom asked.

"Before we get into all of that, there's something important I need to tell you all," You fidgeted with your dupatta.

"Thangam, we just asked you his name?" Your uncle asked.

"He has DID," You blurted. "Dissociative Identity Disorder," You looked at your psychiatrist cousin, hoping he'd take over from here to explain all the technical stuff. You could do it yourself, but you just wanted all the eyes of you for just a second.

After giving your family some cool-down time to wrap their minds around it, they asked you what happened to him to the point he had to develop this disorder, to which you promptly said that it was not your story to share, it was your boyfriend's.

"He has three alters. They are all my boyfriends,"

"Holy shit, y/n has three boyfriends? While I'm here struggling to land even one?" Your younger cousin said, few asked him to stop swearing, and few laughed along but mostly, she did help in bringing down the tension in the air.

"Marc Spector, Steven Grant, Jake Lockley" You proceeded to tell your eager family all about the love of your life, playing with your bangles the whole time, excluding the part of them being ex-avatars of an ancient Egyptian deity and Marc's days as a mercenary.

"See, all of them are working and well-mannered gentlemen, I always knew you would choose well, Kanna," Your grandad smiled at you, as you felt the tight knot that you didn't realize was there loosen up considerably, finally letting you breathe properly.

--

"Y/n where are you? Everyone is waiting for you guys! Are y'all still getting ready?" You read your older brother's text and sent a hasty reply that you guys will reach your grandparent's house in 5 minutes.

The truth was, Marc and you were already parked at the end of the street, going over all the norms and relations, how to call them, and such one last time.

"Your mom is my aththa, your dad is my mama, your brother is my machan, and your little sister- who is she to me?" Marc looked up at you.

"I don't know, I just know that you're her mama, okay? I know, I know, there are lots of relations using the term mama, like uncle, father-in-law, or brother-in-law for younger girls. You'll get the hang of it soon enough," You took his hands into yours and gave him an encouraging squeeze.

"Marc, baby, you do know that you don't have to do this. I can just call everyone now and tell them that you can't make it-"

"No," Marc shook his head. "Y/n, I have to do this. I want to do this. They're your family, they are important to you. Which means they're important to me too,"

"Steven?" You asked. Marc just nodded, and the next second, the man sitting next to you was your sweet Steven.

"Hey, you ready?" You asked and he nodded, running his hand through his hair, checking his reflection in the rearview mirror.

"I'll just be glad at the end of the day if this vetti doesn't fall off," He joked.

"Aye, don't worry about that! I tied it around you myself, it won't fall off, okay?" You laughed, your fingers hovering over his shirt and collar.

"I'm just wearing a simple shirt and vetti, darling, but look at you," He said, eyes sweeping over you as a blush crept on your cheek.

"You look gorgeous, love" He smiled, his wide eyes shining bright.

"You don't look half bad yourself, Romeo. Hey, is Jake here? Can I talk to him?" You asked.

"'Course, love," he said before letting way to his other alter to front.

"Oh and remember, all of you, I know this is a celebration, but a public display of affection is... not recommended, okay?" You said, checking your bag to make sure you had all the supplies. One can never be too sure if they're all set while entering an Indian celebration. "This is not a regular Diwali celebration for my family this year, we are hosting nearly the entire neighborhood," You mumbled, praying that everything goes well.

"Let's just hope there are hidden corners and passages in the house," Jake said, earning a playful glare from you.

"What? You expect me to keep my hands off you when you look like that?" Jake snaked his arm around your waist to pull you close and plant a kiss on your temple.

You were wearing an off-white and crimson saree decorated with embroidered patterns. Adorned with pieces of jewelry you and your family spent hours selecting, you knew you practically shined with all the gold framing your face, neck and waist, and wrist.

Throwing a glance at him, you had to bite back the urge to say that it was going to be harder to keep your hands off of him when he looked that good.

Hair gelled to perfection, a week full of good night's sleep, shopping, and spa made his dark circles disappear and made him glow, clean-shaven face showing off his sharp jaw and structured face. You couldn't help but feel your pride swell in your chest- he looked so sharp and handsome.

"It's getting late, darling, the function's already started. We need to get going,"

--

Your grandparent's house- One of the oldest and the grandest in the village, stood tall and proud against the background of trees and temples. Decorated with fairy lights and bustling with people who were either relatives or friends, the house seemed to be booming with life and a wonderful festive spirit that evening.

"So many people," You could hear Marc mutter in awe... or he was trying to calm his senses that are always on high alert whenever he was in a crowded place.

Eyes turned to gaze at the two of you, the granddaughter who left for America and her foreign boyfriend, the moment you both stepped inside the gates.

"Y/n! Come inside. Oh, there he is! The main man of the night!" Your aunt's shrill and excited voice penetrated through the murmurs and excited giggles from the crowd. "As for the rest of you, please do resume enjoying the food and beverages," She said, her sweetness not wavering even in her sharp tone.

Intertwining his hands in yours, you made sure he was alright one last time before you both proceeded to make your way to your family, who didn't waste a second in gathering in front of you.

Your mom and her sister rushed from inside, holding a ceremonial brass plate with colored, ceremonial powders, betel leaves, a couple of bananas, and a flame burning bright at its edge.

"Stand closer, dears," you don't know whose hands pushed you closer to your boyfriend, making you nearly fall over him.

"So what do I do now?" Marc whispered in your ears.

"When they've stopped circling this plate in front of us, they'll extend it towards you, you hover your hands over the flame and then place your palms over your eyes. After that, you take one of the three over there," You pointed to the viboothi, sandhanam, and kungumam.

"The red powder is the kungumam, the white one is the viboothi, and the sandal liquid is sandhanam. You take any of that and place it on your forehead," You said, as Marc listened to you intently, his eyes following the plate wherever it went.

"Which one should I choose?"

You mulled over that question for a while.

"Well, I feel like Steven would go with sandhanam, you'd go with the viboothi and Jake with the kungumam,"

"Mama, who is fronting now?" Your younger sister asked him. Your heart melted as you realized that your family has already accepted him.

"I'm Marc," he smiled, extending his hands. "So nice to finally meet you in real life," Your sister took his hand and shook it warmly, all smiley.

"Welcome to India, Marc, and more importantly, welcome to our family!" Your dad patted him on the back.

Sharing glances with him, the tension in your shoulders eased as you saw Marc practically gleaming. If he had any traces of fear or nervousness in him, he was good at hiding it.

"Marc, place the kungumam on her forehead, will you?" Your aunt asked him.

Looking at you for your approval, Marc caught you furiously blushing, tugging on the ends of your saree, and paired it up with the girls around you both giggling.

He did it nevertheless, the red vermillion streak now visible above your pottu. "What does it mean?" He whispered.

"Husbands do that to their wives," You mumbled, trying to look at him without blushing harder. Turns out, that piece of information had the same kind of effect on Marc too.

Goddamit, all these traditional lovey-dovey things were making you weak and stereotypical. But hey, when are you going to have anything like this again? You decided you, along with your boyfriend, are going to have one hell of a time this Diwali with your family.

"It isn't enough to take Aarthi for just one maapla, is it!?" Your grandma pointed out, as everyone started muttering their agreements.

Marc immediately understood what happened and let Steven front. Your family watched dumbfound as they realized that the man standing in front of them was clearly not the one who was here just seconds back.

"Steven?" Your brother asked.

"Hello there, mate, nice to meet you," Steven smiled brightly, looking wide-eyed at everyone around him. Out of all three of them, Steven was the best at handling crowds.

"Paati ma," He immediately recognized your granny from the family pictures and bowed down to touch her feet, getting collective gasps and immediate approvals and cries of pride from the crowd.

Your cousins watched in awe as you stood there, smirking. Your perfect, little boyfriend, capturing everyone's hearts already. He started out by conveying his Diwali wishes, and describing how wonderful this neighborhood and this house were as everyone conversed with him with great interest.

Repeating the same procedures to him, it was finally time for your family to meet Jake. Just because he was conscious when all this happened to Marc and Steven, he knew exactly what was expected of him and he did it with so much ease.

He handed them the sweets and fruits you both bought on the way.

"Oi, Mister, remember what I told you about the kids?" You nudged him.

"Of course, how could I forget?" He chuckled and pulled out a huge bag filled with chocolates and candies, making all the little kids go into a frenzy. "Keep the kids happy to keep the adults satisfied."

After spending a considerable amount of time deciding everyone's position for the big family picture, a perfect photo, with no one closing their eyes or having an ugly smile, approved by everyone, was clicked.

Things certainly didn't get easier for the Boys once they were all inside the house. With the adults restraining themselves from asking too many questions, the kids, using their freedom to the fullest, bombarded Jake and Steven with all they got. Marc fronted only when the hyper-active ankle biters went away to eat some sweet- a simple yet powerful tactic your uncle used to give that man some space to breathe.

"Is everyone here always so nice?" Marc asked you as a random person handed him a glass full of tender coconut water.

"Every family has its own drama and downsides, Marc, so does mine. But today, everyone decided to get along with one another and push aside unnecessary disputes because bigger things are happening," You gestured at all of him.

"All of this isn't too much, is it?" You bit your lips, dreading his answer.

"I think this is starting to grow on me," A small smile appeared on his lips as he sat down beside you on the couch. "I mean, this is all so extravagant and elaborate," He looked around the room with not a single person chilling or minding their own business. "I never thought I'd enjoy this kind of buzzing environment, but here I am," He said, gulping down the rest of the water.

"Hey! Why is maapla sitting all by himself? Is this how we treat a guest in this house?" Somebody yelled from the back.

"You're literally sitting here with me," Marc stated and got a firm head shake from you.

"Unless you're surrounded by at least 4 people at a time, you'd be considered alone,"

"Alright, damn,"

"Bring him to the dining table, food's ready! We all eat after those two have!" You heard your chithi's smile in her voice.

"Everyone's so happy to have you here, Marc," You smiled at him.

He shook his head in disbelief. "I've just- I've never really had these many people around me who aren't actively trying to kill me. Neither have Jake and Steven,"

"Don't be so quick to speak, chellam. My family will kill you by stuffing you with more sweets and savories well after you tell them that you're full," You said, both of you chuckling.

The entire night, before the actual fireworks began, felt like you were in a hyper-realistic Tamil film, with all your relatives buzzing about, bringing every South Indian dish known to date to the table, intent on making Marc, Steven, Jake and you eat all of it.

Marc looked at you with pleading eyes, practically begging you to ask them to stop, not realizing that you had no power over them either. Jake, on the other hand, was intent on tasting everything on the table. You soon found out that all three of them developed a taste for Mothi Ladoos and Mysore Pak.

After that pleasurable turned painful event got over, came the time to play family games. The kids were intent on making the Boys play charades, and soon the entire family joined in. Steven was unbelievably good at it, for some reason, and his team kept scoring too many points.

Most of the adults, including Jake and Marc, were on your team but you all were still no match for Steven and his little army of kids he had raised at this point.

The prime of the night rolled by as everyone set outside, big bags full of various kinds of crackers and fireworks. The entire length of the street was engulfed by light from the crackers. Everyone was running around from their house to another, exchanging gifts, sweets, and crackers.

You soon found out that Steven's favorite was the mathaapu. He made patterns and circles with that in the air. He soon became the mathaapu supplier for everyone. He steered clear away from the bigger fireworks, anxiously tugging on his vetti, making sure it doesn't get caught on fire.

Jake, as you had guessed, handled all the scary ones along with your brother and uncles. He dragged you with him whenever he lighted up a firework, stealing a light peck or two on your cheeks and neck when everyone was too busy looking at the skies.

Marc was so glad and amused when the kids tugged on his shirt and asked him to help them light the sangu chakrams and busvaanams. He made sure all the water buckets were always full with water, and that the kids didn't get too close to anything dangerous. Immediately stole the adults' hearts.

All the relatives and neighbors took turns bothering you and your family about your boyfriend, and if your friends didn't help in cutting them off at the right times, you would've damn near lost your mind.

When all the celebrations and the seemingly never-ending hype came down, at last, giving way to a settling night with everyone packing and cleaning stuff, with few getting back to their homes, you finally got your boyfriend all to yourself.

"Finally, some calm, huh," You inhaled deeply, taking advantage of the cold night air grazing your skin. After changing from the growingly uncomfortable attire, and removing all your makeup, you felt like you were at last able to breathe properly. Every muscle in your body ached

You and Steven were on the terrace now, just a few feet away from your temporary room the adults have cleaned up in haste.

Your boyfriend's silence made you quirk up. "Hey, is everything alright? Do you need to get back to our room?"

"No, darling, it's not that," He started, trying to find the right words.

The moment you sat down beside him, he was quick to pull you into an embrace, warmer than any firework made you feel that night. Without pulling away for a few minutes, Steven snuggled his face into the crook of your neck as you played with his hair and stroked his back.

Neither of you had to speak anything- no small talks, no reminiscing the eventful and draining night, or discussing the people of the town. All of that was for later.

After double checking that there was no one around you both, you placed a kiss on top of his head and received a heavy sigh that tickled your neck in turn.

"Thank you,"

You didn't know when Marc started fronting, but that surely was him. At this point, you knew all three were very much conscious, all three of them were here.

"Thank you," He said again, as you started cradling him in your arms.

That one word conveyed more than whatever he could've said at that time.

Translations:

Mama - Uncle/ Father-in-Law/ Older Sister's husband

Aththa - Aunt/ Mother-in-Law

Chithi - Mom's younger sister

Ada Kadvule! - Oh God!

Chellam - My dearest

Thangam - Gold, precious

Kanna - Dear

Vetti - A traditional attire usually worn by men around their waist that stops near their ankle. Official vettis are always white in color.

Saree - A traditional attire usually worm by women (that's a pain to wrap around your body)

Kungumam - Vermillion kept on people's foreheads.

Viboothi - A white-coloured ash-like powder, also kept on foreheads.

Sandhanam - Liquid Sandal, also kept on foreheads

Busvaanam - A firework that looks like a fountain or a tree

Sangu Chakram - Firework that spirals on the floor while letting off colorful sparks.

Mathaapu - A firework that you hold on to as it burns through its length.

Aarthi - A special kind of welcoming guests or your loved ones into the house.

Taglist (not my usual taglist!):

@wysteria-clad @jake-g-lockley @lil-stark @mintpurplemnm

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #moon knight fanfic #moon knight x reader #marc spector x y/n #marc spector x reader #steven grant x you #jake lockley x reader #steven grant x reader #desiblr #desi tumblr #india #indian culture #desi!reader #mcu #marvel #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x reader