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munson-blurbs · 9 months

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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

Summary: Will's birthday party brings back some familiar faces and gives Eddie the perfect opportunity to make amends with Corroded Coffin, but an unexpected interruption might have him hurtling towards his old ways.

Warnings: some dirty talk (18+ only just in case), drinking/drunkenness (everyone is over 21), pregnancy and labor complications, mentions of past bullying

WC: 8.2k

Chapter 14/20

Divider credit to @saradika Special shoutout to @storiesbyrhi and @corroded-hellfire for helping with the fluffy sections and making this piece strong.

Afternoons at Hawkins Preschool are predictable: storytime on the carpet is followed by the kids’ pack-up routine, and once all belongings are shoved into their proper backpacks, they file out the door to go home.

Predictable is good. It’s safe. And it certainly doesn’t include a fire drill half an hour before dismissal.

Herding nine children through the bustling hallways and trying to ensure no one is left behind is overwhelming enough. Factor in the ear-splitting alarm and the surge of adrenaline pulsing through your students once they re-enter your classroom, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for chaos.

Instead of fighting a losing battle to keep the kids calm and quiet, you’d opted to plunk them down with myriad art supplies and called it a day.

Now, after the last student had been picked up, you and Will are left cleaning the mess they’d made. Broken crayons are scattered across the tabletops, there’s Play-Doh of various colors stuck to the floor, and gold glitter—when did you even acquire glitter?—dusts every surface.

“Seriously…who thought that that timing was a good idea?” Will grumbles, tossing a Crayola stub into the crayon basket. He adopts a nasal, mocking tone. “‘What would help out our teachers? Oh, I know—let’s interrupt their dismissal routines!’”

You laugh despite your own exhaustion. Somehow, you’ll have to muster up the energy to tutor Harris tonight.

Will reaches into the cupboard to grab his car keys, turning back around with a smile that he only offers you when he needs something. “Could I ask you for a little favor?”

There it is. “How little?” You cock one brow as you clip a stack of papers together.

“Eensy weensy. Miniscule. Microscopic–”

“The more you say it, the less I believe you.”

“Okay, okay,” Will acquiesces, twirling his keyring around his forefinger. “So, for my birthday thing on Saturday…a bunch of my childhood friends are gonna be there. Mike, Dustin, Suzie, Lucas, Max, Jane…” he lists them, ticking off each name on his fingers. “Anyway, I was hoping that maybe you could talk to Eddie about a Corroded Coffin reunion? I know they’re on a hiatus or whatever, but if anyone can convince him to play, it’s you.”

He’s not wrong; you’re the most likely person to get Eddie to do, well, anything. But asking him to make amends with Danny and Gareth and getting their band to play a gig three days from now seems like a mountainous task.

Will is staring at you, hands clasped together pleadingly. He’s too optimistic for his own good, and you can’t help but give in.

“Fine, I’ll try. But–hey, don’t get excited yet,” you warn when he pumps his fist in celebration. “‘Try’ is the key word here. I’m not making any promises.”

Your admonition goes unheeded as Will already considers it a victory. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You give him a small, tight-lipped wave as he dashes out the door. You and Eddie were already planning to attend the party; you’d spent part of last night scouring an art store for the perfect gift. And he and Jeff were back to being thick as thieves…maybe this could work.

“All right, Mr. Harris,” you say with a laugh, hurriedly placing tiles of various shapes in front of him. You need to make the most of the few minutes you have left until Eddie arrives. There’s a soft, familiar flutter in your stomach as you think about seeing your boyfriend, but you know you can’t compete with him for Harris’s attention. “Can you find the…trapezoid?” The inflection in your voice makes it sound like a much more exciting task than it really is, and you hope it’s enough to wrangle his focus.

Harris pokes out his tiny pink tongue as he assesses the tiles. He initially reaches for the blue rhombus, but as soon as his little finger touches it, he pulls away as though it’s on fire. “No…that’s not it.” You tuck your lips into your mouth to suppress your amusement as he thoughtfully taps his forefinger on his lips. A solid ten seconds pass before he triumphantly snatches up the correct tile. “Got it!” he beams, showing off the red trapezoid in his hand.

“You did! You got the trapezoid!” You hold up your hand for a high-five, frowning when he shakes his head. His overgrown curls brush along his eyebrows, and you wonder if it’s your place to suggest that Eddie take him for a haircut. “No high-five?”

“Nuh-uh,” Harris protests, now swiveling his whole body in defiance. “I want…tickles!” He holds his arms out, leaving his torso wide open.

Lips pursed in faux consideration, you lower your voice to a hushed whisper. “Hmm…I think that warrants a visit from the Tickle Monster!” You flex your fingers so they resemble claws; he instinctively scrunches up in anticipation, arms tucked into his stomach. You let out your silliest wicked cackle as your fingers dig mercilessly into his sides in pursuit of his most ticklish spots. Delighted peals of laughter emanate from his chest, and you don’t stop until the buzzer rings, signaling Eddie’s arrival.

Harris’s eyes get wide, mischief dancing behind his pupils. “Do you think the Tickle Monster should get Daddy?” he asks, keeping his voice low despite it only being the two of you.

“Oh, absolutely.” You buzz Eddie in while formulating the game plan aloud. “I’ll grab the pizza and you go on the attack. Once the food is secured, I’ll join you.” You stick out your pinky, and he wraps his own around it.

“Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

His words turn your heart into a chocolate chip cookie fresh out of the oven, ooey gooey and destined to crumble if handled too harshly. “I love you, too, Harris,” you manage, blinking back embarrassing tears. The flood of emotion is absurd; he probably tells his stuffed animals that he loves them with the same fervor, but you can’t deny the adoration with which he looks at you.

He flings his arms around you in a hug, squeezing tight. Face pressed to your ribs, his words are muffled but still audible when he says, “I don’t know why Daddy says it’s hard to say ‘I love you.’”

He doesn’t have time to further elaborate before Eddie’s knocking on the door. “Special delivery for my two favorite people!” Your heart beats faster with the knowledge that he’s on the other side, that you’ll be able to sneak in a kiss or two.

You and Harris share devious grins, the little boy emulating your monster-esque stance from earlier. He creeps behind you on his tiptoes, and bites back a giggle when you slowly open the door, counting down from three under your breath.

“Hi–whoa!” Eddie stumbles back as Harris barrels into him, little fingers dancing across his lower stomach. You quickly snatch the pizza box from Eddie’s grasp and place it on the table before darting back to where his son has ambushed him. You start on his bicep and let your nails travel upwards until they reach the crook of his neck.

“I’m under attack!” Eddie yelps, twitching this way and that way in a meager attempt to protect himself. “I bring you pizza and this is how I’m repaid?” He easily scoops Harris into his arms, flinging him over his shoulder. Harris lets out an exhilarated squeal, carelessly kicking his sock-clad feet into his dad’s chest. “Jesus, little dude. You’re getting too strong.” Wincing slightly from the pinch in his back as he places the boy on the floor, he gives his tush a little pat and tells him to wash up for dinner, reminding him to use soap and water.

As soon as Harris scampers off into the bathroom, Eddie’s grabbing you by the belt loops of the wide-leg jeans you’d changed into when you got home. One hand slides around your waist and the other finds purchase on your cheek as he kisses you deeply, keeping a listening ear out for the telltale pitter-patter of Harris returning.

“Missed you,” he murmurs into your mouth, and you shiver at the intimacy this closeness brings.

You laugh quietly, biting your lower lip. “We just saw each other this morning,” you remind him, sneaking in another quick peck.

Eddie shakes his head. “Y’know what I mean. Can’t do this while you’re on the clock,” he counters, shifting his grip so both hands rest on either side of your face. You think he’s going to kiss you again, but he just gazes into your eyes. “Shit, you’re so fuckin’ pretty. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you today.” He rests the slope of his nose on yours, only snapping out of his trance at the sound of Harris rapidly switching the faucet on and off. “Let me go check on him before this place is underwater,” he whispers, giving your own ass a smack as he shuffles towards his mischievous son, a cheeky grin deepening his dimples.

You do your best to compose yourself, heat creeping up your neck and into your face. Busying yourself by placing pizza slices onto paper plates does little to distract you; it’s as though every neuron is dedicated to flooding your brain with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

The way the pads of his fingertips brush against your cheeks when he holds your face. The plush moisture of his lips when he kisses your forehead. The tickle of his brown tresses when he nuzzles into you and takes a deep breath, finally able to relax after a long day.

“Are you expecting a guest?” Eddie pipes up from the kitchen entrance. A perplexed frown overtakes your lips until he gestures to what you’ve laid out in front of you: four slices of pizza, two plain and two with olives, on four plates.

Your vision gets a bit fuzzy with tears when you realize what you’ve done. “No, it’s, um…” Nostrils flare as you huff out a short puff of air, hot under your nose. “Force of habit, sorry.” You’ve been so diligent about only serving three slices, but your preoccupation with his touch had your mind drifting from the task at hand.

It takes him a moment to process what you mean, but when he does, his face falls. It was for Grandma. “It’s okay,” he says, cringing as the words leave his mouth. Because it’s not okay that you’re sad; it’s normal, but frustration still tugs at his heart that he can’t take it away.

It feels wrong to return the slice to the box, so you leave it where it is. Eddie balances the three plates, sliding a plain one in front of Harris. The boy digs in hungrily, sauce caught on the edges of his smile.

“How was work?” you ask Eddie, grabbing a napkin from the pile in the center of the table. It’s a simple question, one that people ask each other all the time, but it stirs up a warmth inside of him. It’s you asking him, fostering a domestic routine that he could follow for the rest of his life. He’d walk through the door of your house, wiping his shoes on the welcome mat you two had picked out together. The kids–Harris, plus another Little Munson or two–would practically knock him down trying to greet him, and he’d engulf them in bear hugs before reaching out to you, kissing your forehead with a murmured, “there’s my girl.”

“Eds?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, it was good.” He stumbles over the words, trying to clear his head of the fantasy he’d conjured up. “Lotsa paperwork, y’know.” He takes a bite of pizza, chewing thoughtfully. “What about you?”

You shrug, watching amusedly as Harris sinks his teeth into his slice and manages to pull all of the cheese off of the crust in one fell swoop. “The usual. The kids are learning about springtime, so Will decided to do a craft making flowers using finger paint and their handprints.”

“Sounds messy.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you agree with a weary grin, “but it was super cute, and Will is great with all that art stuff.” You excuse yourself from the table to get the water pitcher and three glasses, stopping when you remember your TA’s request. “He also asked me if a certain local metal band could play his birthday party on Saturday…?”

Eddie pauses mid-chew, nearly choking on his food. The cheese seems to congeal in his mouth when he tries to speak. “Um, I don’t know about that,” he finally manages, nervously massaging the back of his neck. “I haven’t talked to Danny or Gareth since…”

“I know, but you said you wanted to make things right with them,” you point out. “Maybe Jeff can test the waters? See if they’re ready to talk to you?”

“Maybe.” He averts his gaze, staring at the pizza slice without taking another bite.

You don’t want to further push the subject in Harris’s presence; instead, you turn your attention to the little boy. “Anything fun happen at school today, Har?”

“Nah,” he responds automatically just a half-second before his eyes light up. “Actually, yeah! My friend Charlie ate a bug at recess today!”

“Ew!” you exclaim, wrinkling your nose in pure disgust, as Eddie simultaneously poses the question, “what kind of bug?”

“An ant,” Harris answers his dad nonchalantly, as though ant-eating is an everyday occurrence. Perhaps it is, which is even more unsettling.

“Did you eat any bugs?” You’re afraid of his response; you’re unsure why you even asked in the first place.

To your relief, he shakes his head, a forlorn look on his cherubic face. “No, I couldn’t catch any in time.”

“Thank God for small miracles,” you mutter, turning back to your original task of getting something to drink. Though if the topic of bug consumption continues, you’ll need something much stronger than water.

Could Corroded Coffin play again?

It’s a thought that consumes Eddie for the entirety of his drive home, barely able to listen to Harris yammering about how there’s a coin in his jacket pocket that he doesn’t remember putting there. He throws a few lackluster mhms his son’s way and hopes he’s too distracted by the mystery coin to catch on.

We’re getting the band back together. Well, if Jake and Elwood Blues could swing it, maybe he could, too.

He waits until Harris is asleep to call Jeff. Getting his son to do his bedtime routine is easiest on Wednesday nights; he’s usually exhausted after a full day of school and tutoring. The one time that Eddie could use an excuse to procrastinate, Harris is out like a light.

Go to voicemail go to voicemail go to—

“‘Lo?”

Shit. “H-Hey, man,” Eddie begins awkwardly. “How’s it going? Viv doing okay?”

“We’re good. She’s ready to have this baby already. I reminded her, ‘just two more weeks,’ but then she told me to ‘fuck off’ until I’m the pregnant one, so…” he chuckles, more nervous than amused. “Everything good with you? Harris?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Just, um,” he struggles to find the words, blurting out the first ones that enter his brain. They come out in a rush before he can stop them. “Do Gareth and Danny still hate me?”

Jeff takes a sharp breath in; his reaction does nothing to temper Eddie’s nerves. “They never hated you. They were just…disappointed? Jesus, I sound like my mom.”

Eddie misses his friend’s anecdote, too wrapped up in his head to fully pay attention. Somehow, disappointed stings worse than the prospect of being hated, especially when the people he’s let down are ones who used to idolize him. “Do you think there’s a way they could be…undisappointed in me? Like, enough to forgive me and maybe play a gig this weekend?”

There’s an extended pause, and then a one-word response: “Christ.”

Eddie can picture Jeff rubbing his eyes in exasperation, and he scrambles to explain. “Will Byers–you remember him? He was in Hellfire; had that weird bowl cut thing going on?”

“Mhm.”

“He’s having a birthday thing at the Hideout on Saturday and asked if we could play. Just a coupla songs.”

Jeff thinks for a moment; Eddie can hear him drumming his fingers on a nearby surface.

“Why don’t you come over tomorrow night around…6?” he ventures. “I’ll invite the guys and we can…I dunno, figure something out.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you.” He’s about to hang up when he remembers to ask, “Can I bring Harris?”

“Of course.”

“Har, slow down!” Eddie’s barely unbuckled his son’s car seat before Harris has wriggled out of the sedan, bolting straight for Jeff’s door.

“But I haven’t seen Uncle Danny and Uncle Gareth in forever!” he laments, reaching the house far faster than Eddie. He stands on tiptoes and rings the doorbell like a madman, forefinger jamming into the button at warp speed. “Uncle Jeff! It’s me!”

Jeff opens the door with a huge smile. “Mini Munson!” He scoops the boy up into a hug. “What’s new with you, little dude?”

“I got a wiggly tooth!” Harris exclaims, jutting out his jaw and pressing his tongue against the front center of his mouth. Sure enough, the baby tooth moves slightly forward, and he giggles. “Daddy says the Tooth Fairy’s gonna come and leave me a dollar,” he matter-of-factly reports. He peeks his head over Jeff’s shoulder, squealing and squirming out of his grip when he spots the two men sitting on the couch. He flings himself onto the sofa and plunks himself down into Gareth’s lap. “Hi!”

“Hey, kiddo!” Gareth chirps. “You’re getting so big.”

“‘M five now. I had a birthday party because I turned five.” He splays out his palm to offer five fingers.

“Did your friends go?”

“Yup!” Harris beams at the memory. “An’ Daddy an’ Grampa Wayne an’ Ms. Sweetheart.”

Danny furrows his brows. “Who’s Ms. Sweetheart?”

“She’s my almost-mommy. Daddy has to fall in love with her first.”

“Is that so?” Gareth smirks at Eddie. His teasing look is the first crack in the wall that has separated the men for the last six months, and though Eddie is thoroughly embarrassed, it alleviates some of his anxiety.

“Uh, Har Bear, why don’t you go hang out with Auntie Viv while I talk with the guys?”

Viv holds out her left hand, looking utterly exhausted. Her right hand rests on her bump, eyes sending a telepathic message to Jeff that they have five minutes—ten minutes, if Harris behaves well—to come to a solution before she needs a break.

Silence filters into the room as Eddie fumbles to address the mess he’s made. If Danny and Gareth are here, they’re at least willing to listen to him, which is honestly farther than he’d assumed he’d get.

He remembers what Harris said about apologizing; technically, what you’d taught him about apologizing: the act of saying sorry, not merely implying it, makes a world of difference.

“I was an asshole,” he starts. It’s not his most eloquent statement, but it certainly gets the point across. “Not just that night at the Hideout, or at our last practice. I was an asshole for a long time before that. And…I’m sorry.” It feels good to say it; it feels even better that they’re nodding, seeming to believe him. “You guys didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Of the rest of the band, Gareth is the one to speak first. “I guess I’m just wondering, why? Why be an asshole to us? We’ve always been there for you.”

“I know.” Eddie fiddles with a thread hanging from his t-shirt, pulling on it until it snaps off. He shoves it in his jeans pocket, not wanting to mess up Jeff and Viv’s place. “Honestly…I’m not sure, but I think it’s because you guys are everything I’m not.”

“What are you talking about?” Danny asks, tone heavy with disbelief.

“In high school, I was the one you looked up to. The person you wanted to be like. And then I had a kid with some random chick I thought I knew but barely did, gave up my dreams of being a musician, and started selling weed again just to scrape by. And here you guys are. Jeff,” he motions to the friend leaning against the sofa’s arm, “you have a baby on the way with the love of your life. And all of you have goddamn college degrees and jobs that you don’t despise and don’t require you to hide from the law.” He shoves his ringed fingers into his jacket pockets, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper. “And I was nothing.”

Gareth scratches at the upholstery with one finger, absorbing everything he’s just heard. “You know we never stopped looking up to you, right?” He gives a short laugh when Eddie’s eyes widen. “Yeah, man. Leaving Chicago so you could take care of Harris? Putting your kid before yourself? That’s pretty badass.”

Danny nods. “Ed, if there’s someone here to look up to, it’s you.” Both he and Eddie visibly relax. Shoulders drop from their hunched positions, thin lips unfurling into smiles. “No matter what you went through, you never gave up. Even if it almost killed us,” he adds wryly, referring to all of the sleep-deprived Corroded Coffin practices fueled by black coffee and pure adrenaline.

“No fancy diploma can teach us how to stand up for ourselves, or how not to take shit from people, or how to be a dad,” Jeff pipes up from where he’s standing. “We learn from you, man.”

Eddie’s cheeks burn at the compliments, unsure how to accept them. He’d walked in expecting to have to beg for forgiveness, and they were the ones reassuring him. It’s now or never, and he forges ahead while he still has the courage. “Do you…can we get the band back together?” Can we be friends again is the underlying plea, but it’s too vulnerable a statement to make. “We’ll keep it low-key, I promise. Work, family, anything comes up…we can cancel or reschedule. And I won’t be a dick about it.”

The three other men look at one another, nod and turn back to Eddie with smart grins and mischievous glimmers in their eyes.

“On one condition.” Gareth crosses his arms over his chest, smirking as he sinks back against the couch. “You tell us all about this ‘Ms. Sweetheart.’”

The Hideout, normally dingy and coated in a film of sticky ale, has been decked out for Will’s birthday party. Helium-filled balloons in every color bob along the low ceiling, vibrating with the thumping bass of the old sound system. Crepe paper streamers–purple, Will’s favorite color–sway gently with the air that rushes in from opening the door. This has to be Marshall’s handiwork, and it brings a smile to your face. If anyone deserves a partner who fawns over him, it’s Will.

You spot him surrounded by a group of people as the bartender slides a row of tequila shots across the bar and into their eager hands. While they’re distracted by alcohol, you take the opportunity to dart towards the backstage area.

Eddie’s there, digging around for his lucky pick. You wrap your arms around his waist, fingers pressed into the soft dough of his tummy.

“Hey, Rockstar,” you murmur against his neck, kissing just below his earlobe.

He turns around, jaw dropping when he sees you in a maroon slip dress. The heels on your feet have you two inches taller than usual, and he has to shift where his gaze normally lands to meet your eyes.

“Fuckin’ Christ, baby,” Eddie practically growls, kissing you deeply. One hand presses against the small of your back while the other grabs the plush of your ass, kneading it in his palm. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy. How’m I gonna go out there and play with you looking like that?”

“I’ll make it worth your while.” You giggle when he offers up a bemused smile. “If you do a good job tonight, I’ll give you a reward.” You let your fingertips graze over the metal teeth of his pants zipper, feeling him twitch at your light touch.

“You’re dangerous,” he winks, delivering another kiss; this time, he gives your lower lip a little bite when he pulls away. His kohl-rimmed eyes draw you in just as they did that first night you’d met, but now you dive into them without the fear of drowning.

A tactful “ahem” from the now-open doorway startles both you and Eddie, having been floating in an embrace that’s equal parts comfort and desire.

“Sorry to interrupt the lovefest, but we’re on in five,” a man’s voice calls from the doorway. You turn around to see the other three Corroded Coffin members standing there, amusement evident in their expressions.

“You must be Ms. Sweetheart,” one of the guys, soft curls resting atop his head, pipes up. His tone is teasing, but not mocking; the nickname is said with admiration and affection. “I’m Gareth, by the way.”

“Danny,” the one with tight, wiry curls offers, giving a small wave.

Jeff just shrugs. “You know me.”

Eddie grabs his guitar, slinging the strap across his body. His pants’ fly is tight, and he wills himself to calm down before it’s time to perform. He hasn’t worried about being hard on stage since he was nineteen, but thoughts of your bodies perfectly melding into each other has him subtly adjusting himself as he turns his back to his bandmates.

“See ya out there, baby,” he says before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. The brief contact between you has you biting your tongue in self-beration for suggesting that the band play tonight. All you want is to dance with him, allowing the steady flow of alcohol to dull your inhibitions as you pull him impossibly close. Not caring who sees or what they think.

But this night isn’t about you or Eddie. It’s about Will, your TA-turned-friend who has kept you sane amidst your adorably chaotic students and their decidedly less adorable and more chaotic parents. He wanted Corroded Coffin to play his party, and that’s the least you could do for him.

Will’s already teetering between tipsy and inebriated, breath tinged with the scent of tequila as he introduces you to his friends.

“This is my amazing boyfriend, Marshall.” He smacks a wet kiss to the man’s cheek. “And these are my friends from growing up: Dustin and Suzie, Lucas and Max, and Mike and Jane.” His face melts into a sappy grin as he leans on Marshall to hold him up. “You guys! We’re all in looooove!”

“Jesus Christ,” Dustin mutters, rolling his eyes and shaking his head before turning his attention back to you. “Can we get you something to drink?”

Will raises his empty glass. “I’ll take another–”

“Not you.”

You manage to sneak in a quick conversation with Max, Suzie, and Jane before Corroded Coffin starts their set. Max is finishing up her Masters in English literature at New York University, set to graduate in two months. Suzie programs for NASA, and though Florida is a far cry from her home state of Utah, she loves her job. And Jane is a social worker at a local adoption agency, the cause close to her heart, as she was adopted by Chief Hopper years ago.

“Damn,” you laugh, taking a small sip of your vodka soda. You’re having so much fun that you don’t even care that it’s been watered down. “You’re all such badasses!”

Your admiration of their collective girl power is cut short by the sound of Corroded Coffin taking the stage. It’s as though they’d never taken an extended break; just picked up right where they left off. You cheer so loudly that there’s a pinch in your throat, but you push past it. It’s more than applause. There’s so much tucked away in your yell: I’m proud of you; you’re a rockstar; you’re my person forever, if you’ll have me.

“Hello, Hawkins!” Eddie bellows into the mic. There’s no missing the grin on his face. He’s happy. He’s in his element. He’s where he belongs.

“No way!” Lucas exclaims, awestruck as he turns to Will.

“Dude, you got Corroded Coffin?” Mike mirrors his friend’s excitement. He slings an arm around Will’s shoulder and pulls him in for a side hug. “This is fuckin’ awesome!”

“The first song of the night goes out to our guest of honor, Will Byers!” Everyone hoots and hollers as Eddie plays the opening chords to The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go. Eddie told you he remembered that the song was one of Will’s favorites growing up; his older brother had gotten him into the band. Sure enough, Will’s bopping to the rhythm, singing every word, albeit quite off-key.

Corroded Coffin plays a few more songs from their usual setlist, nerves dissipating with each note, before Eddie speaks into the mic again.

“This next one is for my beautiful girlfriend,” he announces, eyes gazing into yours. “Baby, if my teachers looked like you, I actually would’ve gone to class.”

He nods at Gareth, who starts playing an incredibly complicated beat. As soon as you hear it, you feel your cheeks heat up. The rest of the guys join in on their own instruments, and Eddie oozes bravado as he sings.

“T-Teacher stop that screamin’ Teacher don’t you see Don’t wanna be no uptown fool.”

Max leans in to you and whisper-shouts, “I’ve known Eddie for years, and I’ve never seen him so…happy.”

Lucas overhears his girlfriend and adds his two cents. “That’s because we’ve never seen him in love.”

Warmth spreads all over your body, but it’s not from embarrassment. Allowing yourself to believe that Eddie loves you—is in love with you—opens a door you’d deadbolted until the time was right. You hadn’t wanted to rush things, but the jolt of exhilaration following Lucas’s statement means you can’t deny it any longer: you love Eddie Munson. You’re in love with Eddie Munson.

“Got it bad, got it bad, got it bad I'm hot for teacher I've got it bad, so bad I'm hot for teacher.”

Will takes the opportunity to twirl you around, and you laugh as you spin amongst new friends, your drink threatening to spill over the sides as he turns you faster.

“Hey! Thank you, by the way!” he shouts, probably a bit louder than he needs to.

“For what?”

“For getting Corroded Coffin to play!” He jerks a thumb towards the stage, stumbling a bit as he does. He’d managed to sneak another tequila shot when his boyfriend left him unattended to use the restroom, and it definitely shows. “And for, like, being there for me.”

You give him a hug, immediately understanding the full implication of his statement. “I’ll always have your back,” you promise, filled with the mingled buzzes of alcohol and belonging.

“I think of all the education that I've missed But then my homework was never quite like this!”

Eddie jumps off of the tiny stage and into the crowd of nine twenty-somethings, each at various levels of tipsiness, and reaches for you to pull you close to him. He’s sweating from constantly moving around and the stage lights, his fingers slick with perspiration as he laces them with yours. Jeff picks up the rhythm for the lead guitar while Eddie kisses you, soft and slow and sensual. He loses himself for a moment before hopping back up to join the rest of the band.

As Corroded Coffin wraps up their Van Halen cover and stops for a quick sip of water, there’s a small commotion behind the bar.

“Is there a Jeff Reynolds here?” the bartender calls out, phone receiver in hand.

Jeff gives a little wave, eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s me.”

“Someone named Jess on the line? Says your girl is in labor and you need to get to the hospital.”

“Holy shit!” Danny claps a hand to Jeff’s back and grins. “C’mon, man! Let’s get you outta here!”

Jeff freezes up; hands clammy as he grips the guitar’s neck. “Can you drive?” he asks Eddie.

Eddie recognizes the fear in his friend’s voice. The selfish part of him wants to refuse to take Jeff to Hawkins General. He could easily plant his feet on the stage and keep playing, claiming that ‘the show must go on.’

No, he silently chastises himself, Jeff needs me. He needs me and I’ll be damned if I let him down again.

“Of course,” Eddie says, trying to force a relaxed disposition. It doesn’t matter; Jeff is too overwhelmed to notice the obvious effort.

“Take my car,” you offer, keys already dangling from your fingertips. “Eds, I can take yours and pick up Harris from Wayne’s tomorrow.” It’s easier to swap rides than to uninstall and reinstall the carseat, so you’re perplexed when Eddie shakes his head.

Two words slip through his lips, soft but pronounced: “Need you.”

Dustin catches wind of the situation and insists on watching Harris until you and Eddie can come back home, claiming he needs to squeeze in as much uncle-nephew bonding time as possible before returning to Florida.

“Henderson, it’s late; don’t let him stay up,” Eddie warns as he tosses over his car keys.

Dustin tries catching them in one hand, but they hit the center of his palm and fall to the ground. “But the best part of being an uncle is breaking the rules!” he laughs as he scoops the keys off of the floor. “By the way, I’m not drunk; just a shit baseball player.” Still, Eddie’s sigh of relief is audible when Suzie plucks the keyring from Dustin’s hand.

With Harris taken care of, you turn your attention to your boyfriend. Eddie’s face is flushed pale, and you’re worried about him behind the wheel. “Want me to drive?”

He nods and grabs onto your hand as you lead the two men to your car. Eddie’s doing his best to keep Jeff calm, reminding him that the doctors and nurses have everything under control until he gets there.

“I’m gonna be a dad,” Jeff murmurs, a disbelieving chuckle permeating the otherwise silent car. “Holy shit.”

Eddie can’t help but smile back. “It only gets crazier from here.”

The bright lights of the hospital’s waiting room are anything but soothing, especially compared to the dimly-lit bar you’d just left. You speak to the receptionist, an older woman with a tired smile and red-rouged cheeks, explaining the situation as she pages Jess while Jeff and Eddie take a seat.

Jeff’s voice is nearly impossible to hear despite the stillness of the room. “The baby was breech at Viv’s last appointment.” He clocks Eddie’s confusion and elaborates. “Feet first, instead of the head. If they didn’t get into the right position and the doctors can’t, I dunno, flip ‘em around? They’ll have to do a c-section.” Long overdue tears spill over his lash line, and he makes no attempt to swipe them away. “I just wanna fix it and I can’t.”

Helplessness. It’s a feeling Eddie knows all too well. He spins a ring around his finger, exhaling softly as he considers a response. He can’t say it’ll be alright, because he has no idea whether or not it will be. He and Jeff both know that.

“No matter what, I’m here for you.” Eddie’s gaze flits over to the receptionist’s desk, where Jess has now arrived and is waving her brother-in-law over. “You’re up.”

But Jeff remains in his chair, hands shoved under his thighs as though they’re glued to the seat. “I…I don’t know if I can do this. What if something happens to Viv or the baby? How can I…?” He doesn’t allow himself to complete the sentence, to finish the thought.

Instinctively, Eddie puts his hands on Jeff’s shoulders. He can feel them trembling slightly as his friend heaves another shaky breath. “Listen to me. You’re gonna do this. You’re gonna go in that room and watch your girl give birth to your baby. Because if you don’t, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your fuckin’ life.” He glances around and lowers his voice. “I know you’re scared, okay? I get it. And once your kid is safely here, we can talk about it. But right now, you need to pull it together and go be a goddamn dad.”

Jeff nods, finally acquiring the physical stability to stand. “Thank you,” he whispers, clearing his throat and wiping the wet stains from his cheeks. He starts towards Jess before turning back to Eddie. “Could you stay until the baby’s born? If you have to get home to Harris, I understand…”

There it is: his out. He can easily use his son as an excuse, despite the fact that Dustin and Suzie were perfectly capable of babysitting him. He can hightail it out of here and never look back. He can crawl into bed and feel sorry for himself for having to step foot in a godforsaken maternity ward again.

“Yeah. I can stay.”

Nearly an hour passes with Eddie’s head resting on your shoulder, relaying what Jeff told him. Identical knots form in your stomachs as the seriousness of the complications sets in. You don’t say a word as he speaks; you just try to shift without disturbing him. The cushion on the chair back, worn thin, digs into you uncomfortably, but you don’t dare move too much. His vulnerability is a deer that will scamper away at the slightest startle.

You think he’s fallen asleep until you feel his soft lips on your cheek, a muffled, “mine?” against your skin. You note his phrasing; it’s careful and unsure, a symptom of being in his own head for far too long.

“Of course I’m yours,” you whisper back, pressing a kiss to his scalp. “What’s got you asking such silly questions?”

“I don’t like this.” It’s an answer and non-answer all in one.

“Being in a hospital?”

He shakes his head, frizzed curls tickling the crook of your neck. His forehead is sticky with cooled perspiration. “Waiting to see if the baby is okay.”

The realization hits you like a punch to the stomach, immediately hollowing you out. The last time he went through this, it was when Harris was being born. You can’t think of anything to say, so you just nuzzle in closer to him and exhale.

“Why do I feel like this?” Neither of you are sure if he’s asking you, himself, or the universe. “‘S not the same. Viv’s not using drugs; Jeff stuck around the whole time…”

“Doesn’t matter. That’s not how this stuff works, y’know?” You adjust your position so you can look into his eyes. The whites are stained red with worry and exhaustion. “Your gig got interrupted, just like when Harris was born. And there's uncertainty now, too. It’s normal for these kinds of memories to get dredged up.” Your palm rests on his cheek, thumb gently stroking the skin as you ask, “can you try to get some sleep?”

“But what if Jeff needs—”

“I’ll wake you up if he needs you,” you reassure him, settling back into the chair. You lean your head against the wall; the heaviness in your eyelids battles the anxious fluttering in your stomach, but it seems as though sleep is winning.

Eddie’s hand finds your forearm, rubbing up and down the gooseflesh that has appeared courtesy of the air conditioning blasting through the building. Shrugging off his jacket and resting the leather fabric over your shoulders, he can relax once he’s reassured that you’re comfortable. He assumes his previous position, using your shoulder as a pillow and falling asleep gradually, body jostling itself awake from the unfamiliar sleeping arrangement. Eventually, you can hear his soft snores; for the first time tonight, he’s peaceful.

You could tell him now, a whisper under your breath that he’s unlikely to hear. I love you, Eddie. I’m in love with you. Your lips part in anticipation, but you snap them shut. You’re delirious and overwhelmed; Lucas’s throwaway comment about Eddie being in love is rattling around your brain. If you say it and Eddie hears you…

You keep it to yourself for now, letting your body rest while still supporting Eddie’s head. Tomorrow is a new day, with a new life brought into the world. Love—if that’s even what this is—will have to wait until then.

The soft pink of breaking daylight streams through the windows when Jeff wakes Eddie up six hours later, shaking him by the shoulders.

“What the fuck?” Eddie grumbles, wiping the sleep from his eyes. When he registers where he is and the potential urgency of the situation, he sits up straight, head filling with fuzziness from the sudden movement. He wouldn’t call the evening restful, but he’d managed to doze off for longer than he’d expected.

“It’s a girl!” Jeff announces, beaming from ear to ear. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, bursting with enthusiasm and emotion.

As soon as Eddie’s vision clears, he’s on his feet and pulling his best friend in for a giant hug. When he steps back, he realizes that he and Jeff sport matching misty eyes. “Dude, you’re officially a dad now. You have a daughter!”

“I have a daughter,” Jeff repeats incredulously. His eyes cloud with tears, and he blinks them away as he peers over at the empty seat next to Eddie. “Did your lady go home?”

Eddie swivels around, so caught up in the moment that he hadn’t realized he was alone. She left. She left without me; she didn’t want to stick around and deal with–

“Did Viv have the baby?” Your excited voice penetrates through his intrusive thoughts as you stroll in from the hallway. The makeup around your eyes is smudged; you’d tried to wipe some of it off in the bathroom, but water and thin hospital paper towels are no substitute for makeup wipes. “Sorry, I had to pee.”

Eddie smiles at the sight of you, still wearing his jacket. He hopes his sigh of relief is concealed by Jeff’s exuberance. “A girl. Six pounds, ten ounces.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Wanna meet her?”

“Of course!” You and Eddie begin following him down the corridor. “Wait, is Viv feeling up to having visitors?” You’re mildly ashamed to admit that, in your eagerness, you’d forgotten about the baby being breech and the possible c-section.

Jeff nods. “I think my daughter’s gonna be a gymnast, ‘cause she’d flipped herself back around between the appointment and last night.”

There’s no masking Jeff’s pride when he says my daughter, and it makes Eddie want to hug him again. “That’s amazing,” he murmurs. There’s a small pang in his heart, a bead of resentment that Harris’s birth didn’t go so smoothly, but it’s unimportant right now. His best friend just became a father, and he refuses to let his own hang-ups take away from this moment.

“Hi,” you whisper when Jeff opens the door to room 1007. Viv is propped up against pillows, exhausted but happier than she’s ever been before. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the hours-old bundle in her arms. “How are you?”

“Sore,” she replies truthfully, brushing her forefinger against her baby’s closed fist, “but the epidural was a lifesaver.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you tease, unaware that your words have Eddie’s heart skipping a beat at the idea of you bearing a little Munson. “Is it okay if I hold her?” You don’t want to intrude on the new mother’s bonding time, but your insides turn to mush when the baby opens her tiny lips and yawns.

Viv carefully places the newborn in your arms, and you gingerly adjust to support her head. Eddie swears that you holding a baby, in that dress, wearing his jacket, is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. “Did Jeff tell you her name?” Viv asks, stifling a yawn. When you and Eddie both shake your heads, she smiles and glances at her partner.

He clears his throat, suddenly bashful. Eddie forces himself to tear his gaze from the way you smile and coo at the baby and look over at Jeff. “Her name is Nicolette,” he starts, “but that’s a big name for a little girl, so we figured we can call her Ettie, and she’ll kinda…share a nickname with you.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, convinced he heard incorrectly. “You…I’m her namesake?”

“Mhm,” Jeff confirms, the grin never leaving his face. What neither you nor Eddie know is that they had had a different name picked out, and had fully intended on using it until the first time Jeff held their daughter. It filled him with a feeling of wholeness, of being complete, and it strangely had him thinking of his best friend. Without Eddie taking him under his wing, he might not even be here to experience this.

It was only by chance that he had stumbled upon Hellfire Club during his freshman year. He was running from Billy Hargrove and his posse, who were determined to beat the hell out of him simply because they could, and had ducked into the drama room to protect himself. Eddie had taken one look at his face and immediately recognized the expression of fear and defeat from being incessantly bullied. “You know how to play Dungeons & Dragons?” he’d asked, and when Jeff had managed a nod, he’d pulled up a chair and motioned for him to sit down.

Being Eddie’s friend, being part of something, gave him a reason to keep going. To live. And in that instant, he vowed to teach his child to extend kindness toward any misfits who need a place to be themselves.

“What about Nicolette?” he’d asked Viv. “Ettie for short.”

You turn to Eddie now, continuing the steady rocking rhythm that keeps Baby Ettie calm. “What do you say, Mr. Namesake? Wanna hold her?”

There’s a brief flash of panic that floods through his veins; he hasn’t held a newborn since Harris. He’d always worried about dropping him or tripping and falling. Truth be told, he was terrified until his son could hold his own head up.

It’s similar, but not the same, he reminds himself, shuffling even closer to you so you can safely transition Ettie into his arms. She stirs slightly in her swaddle but doesn’t cry.

“Hey, little lady,” he says, a delicate smile dancing on his lips. “I’m your Uncle Eddie. The coolest uncle you’ll ever have, for the record.”

“Harris is gonna love her,” you add, heart swelling at the imagery of him cuddling up to his newest cousin.

“Babe?” Viv pipes up from the bed. “Can you grab me something to eat? ‘M starving.”

“Yeah, of course.” Jeff turns to Eddie. “Come with me? I think Viv needs to feed Ettie, anyway.”

Viv extends her arms and Eddie begrudgingly hands the baby to her. Ettie’s so adorable and small, and it makes him yearn for the days when Harris was that little. Maybe not the sleepless nights or the lack of head control, but the scent of baby powder, the toothless smiles, the way he would fall asleep in Eddie’s arms to whatever song happened to be on the radio. Harris Munson might have been the only infant to be soothed by Twisted Sister.

The two men make their way to the hospital cafeteria, sneakers squeaking along the freshly-waxed linoleum tiles.

“I, um, I’m really proud of the way you stepped up for Viv,” Eddie says, eyes trained on the floor. “You’re a great partner. I feel like I should be taking notes.”

Jeff laughs, shaking his head. “That's where my expertise ends. I have no idea how this whole fatherhood thing works.”

“Wanna hear a secret?” Eddie leans in, shifting his weight onto one foot. He doesn’t wait for his friend’s response to divulge, “none of us do. We’re just…” he waves his hand aimlessly, “…figuring it out as we go.” And making plenty of mistakes along the way, he silently adds.

“I don’t know how you did this alone,” Jeff puffs out an incredulous breath. “I mean, I know you had Wayne’s help…” he trails off, not needing to further elaborate on the missing parent.

“Yeah, me either, man. I’m just glad I’m not alone anymore.”

Jeff stops walking, turning to face him. There’s the unmistakable look of pride that manages to make itself prominent despite his evident exhaustion as he says, “You really want this with her, don’t you?”

“Yeah, man,” Eddie chuckles. “It’s like, for the first time, I’m not just thinking about just me or just Harris. I’m thinking about us as a family.” The dinnertime conversations, the gentle ribbings, the tenderness that seamlessly weaves itself into vulnerable conversations.

“She’s good for you,” Jeff agrees. “And you love her.”

“I mean, I—”

“That was a statement, not a question. You love her.”

And in a single breath, Eddie lets go of the fear he’s been clutching to like a life preserver. The one thing he hasn’t allowed himself to say aloud because it makes it so real, so fucking real.

“I love her.”

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gatitties · 1 year

Text

Dye it baby

─ Yandere!bonten x motherly!reader (Platonic)

─ Summary: a special day with your boys, a day of memories and torture

─ Warnings: obsession, metion of bullying, toxic behavior, blood, mention of torture, yandere stuff

Part one / Part two / Part three / Part five

How the first two parts have 1000 likes ??? thank you very much!! 🫶🏻

Lil edit: sorry @boycigs it's been so long i forgot i had to tag you 😭

You never knew how to measure quantities when cooking, because you didn't want to go short, you always ended up adding more ingredients than you should, which led you to make too much food, in this case, little strawberry cupcakes along with some other fruits.

You had time to do it on one of those rare days where you weren't being stifled by the presence of any Bonten executive, having you as their secretary made it easier for them to be accessible to you, but unfortunately they couldn't stop you from interacting with other people, more than anything because they also needed men to do their dirty work, men you seemed to talk to from time to time, which they didn't like.

For you, it was just small interactions, greetings, small talks with the guys who were hanging around, who came from missions or bodyguards who watched every corner in the barracks, nothing really important, you were just being nice like you would to anyone else, although most of them would only nod at your presence or words, they had already been threatened and knew the consequences.

But that didn't stop some clueless from enjoying your presence more than they would like, not to mention the fact that you want to distribute the leftover cupcakes among those men, they'd rather throw away your homemade food before those creeps could taste it, but they couldn't stop you, at least not most of the time.

You wanted to think that the disappearance of some people with whom you spoke or shared that leftover food was not your fault, after all, working with this type of criminal exposed you to many dangers, but you really did not know how far your boys could go for simply smiling at another person.

You put those thoughts aside, clutching the box full of cupcakes tightly, you reached the elevator in the main building, dialing the highest number, you waited patiently, humming the light music on hold, on your way out you simply walked a few more steps and knocked on the door already well known. It opened with a creak, as soon as you entered, being received by an arm hooking onto you in a loose hug, you smiled when you saw Mikey, anxious to see what you had prepared this time, despite not being his favorites, everything you did to he, would be a culinary work.

"By the way, today is dyeing day."

"Hmm? It is?"

You muttered at Rindou's words, noticing now, the boys who already had part of their natural color at the root of their hair, you shrugged smiling at the younger of the Haitani, nodding at his request, earning pitying glances from Kakucho, who was the only one who decided not to alter his original hair.

You approached him, rubbing his shoulders in a comforting way, trying not to let his kicked puppy look affect you, you offered him a smile that was enough to warm his heart, looking for a second at the expressions of his companions to silently boast of being the only one that received all your attention.

"Don't worry Kaku, I'll make sure that my next day off is just for you, we can make that recipe you told me about the other day, or visit some place you want."

The completely bitter and serious expressions of the others turned into small grimaces that were meant to be smiles as you turned to them, letting Takeomi lead the group out while you give a last silent wave to Kakucho, who simply nodded at your action, as soon as you were out of sight a frown on his face.

Kaku really hated 'dyeing days' because he was the only one not included in the bonding time with everyone, but then again he could always take advantage of it, just like now, he always got an extra day with you, and best of all It's just that it was just you and him, so he had your full attention.

Although he had to leave that for later, now, returning with the boys and you, you went out of the building to the crowded streets of Tokyo, everyone staying on the sidelines except Kokonoi, who was the only one who went with you to buy the hair dye, since the group itself would draw a lot of attention and he was the one handling the money, the others reluctantly agreed as he took your hand to guide you to the nearest store.

"Don't you want to dye your hair too?"

"I think not for now, my hair doesn't look so bad right?"

"Of course not! It's perfectly fine."

You laughed at how Koko was quick to make sure your hair was perfectly fine, knowing how delicate people your age could be because of the dreaded gray hair. You both walked out of there after choosing the appropriate colors for everyone, smiling at the packages you were holding in your hand.

It reminded you of your youth, you went through that stage too, you learned how to apply the dye on your own because going to a hairdresser would be a lot of work and much more expensive, although you stopped applying so many dyes to your hair because it started to get drier. When the boys discovered this —snooping through your old photos from your high school days— they asked you to apply the dye.

While everyone got used to being treated by a ridiculously expensive professional hairdresser, nothing could compare to taking advantage of this to spend more time with you, not to mention enjoying the feeling of being pampered by you, giving them a little scalp massage when you applied the dye to them, it was something that even the most experienced or expert hairdresser could not achieve.

"Who should be first?"

You all ended up in your house, because you continued to maintain that house even though the boys told you it wasn't necessary, but you hadn't spent most of your life working to buy this property and now just abandon it so abruptly, no, you weren't going through that, plus it was always like a refuge of your own peace of mind, although in the majority there was always someone who interrupted you on your day off.

You observed that everyone had impatient eyes, watching as you internally debated who should be the first to go through your majestic hands and head caresses, taking one last look at everyone you made up your mind once and for all.

"I guess we can start with Ran, since I'm going to take longer with him, you go after Rin, the rest of you shouldn't take that long so you can choose the order, oh, without any shouting or throwing knives."

You warned before taking the brothers to the bathroom, aware that the last time you told them to choose the order in which you were going to dye them they ended up fighting to see who would be the first to receive your attention. You started working with Ran, massaging his head while applying the dye, it took you half an hour to finish them both as they had two different colors, which complicated the process, luckily the others only had one color to choose from.

You weren't surprised that the next one to enter the bathroom was Mikey, after all he was the boss, and if the brothers had been lucky enough to go before him, it was only because it was your decision and he respected it. You took your time with him, knowing that he enjoyed more than anyone the reassurance that your fingers gave him, running over his skin in a firm but gentle way, it was refreshing for him, the only place where he could let his guard down and relax to the point where he almost falls asleep

The next one was Takeomi, he was the fastest since he only had a small part of his hair, that didn't mean that he didn't feel satisfied by the simple fact of being with you alone. He was followed by an impatient Sanzu, who was always very restless despite being with you, as if he were the rebellious and hyperactive son of the group, then Mochizuki entered and finally Kokonoi.

You sighed once you kicked Koko out of the bathroom, leaving you to relieve yourself while cleaning the dye stains left on your hands, you wet your face to cool off, feeling tired after a long day.

"Guys… can you tell me what the hell are you doing with my school album again? I thought I had hidden it…"

You stared blankly at the group of men who decided to deliberately ignore your words, one of the few times they did, more focused on gossiping about your past as a student.

"Who is it? You have many photos with this person."

Sanzu pointed, you approached to check who was, a smile tugging at your lips upon seeing that person, the boys silently stared at your expression, feeling an internal anger against the stranger despite not knowing anything about that person.

"That was my first couple, although we didn't end up very well."

"Why?"

"Cheated on me with someone else." you immediately noticed how the tension increased in the room, rushing to continue talking "Oh, but we were both very inexperienced, it was the first relationship for both of us and we had many ups and downs."

"Why would you keep the photos of this person? Seems useless."

"Mikey… that's rude, I keep them because it's a memory of my life, although I only keep the good times."

They continued to look at more photos —some embarrassing— and judge the people you had the closest contact with in the past, Takeomi making a mental list of the few names you inadvertently let slip as you remembered between laughs and blushes of embarrassment your adolescent adventures

Although there was someone who annoyed them more than anyone, a girl, an old classmate who decided to mess with you for something quite common in pubescence, pimples and early physical changes, her harassment was only verbal, small teasing so that her group of friends would laugh, luckily nothing physical happened, mostly because one day you decided to stand up to it and set the record straight, since teachers don't do much, you decided that sometimes taking control of the situation wasn't a bad idea.

The girl was embarrassed years later by her attitude towards you and apologized when you met her as an adult, you simply forgave her because she was not and would not be anyone important in your life, there was no point in hating her when you could just forget her.

But the boys did not like this at all, they heard from your own mouth ─because they begged you to tell them the whole story─ that many nights you cried, self-conscious about your appearance, forcing you to do things that were dangerous to your health, both mental and physical, you didn't go to extremes, but without a doubt that year was a bad time that you prefer to bury in the depths of your mind.

Oh boy, Bonten was going to dig up the shit for you to clear your conscience, rather his own under the guise of 'doing it for you', what better way to get over someone than to just wipe them off the face of the Earth? It's a pleasant job for them anyway, especially if they're people who had hurt their mother in some way. You may have taken it as a joke, but the idea of hunting down your former bad classmates, or teachers, were not empty words, it was a promise.

"Hello, Kakucho? Didn't we have an important meeting today?"

"Ah, we can always do without one or two, so don't worry, isn't it better to spend the day with me than listen to us talk for hours about business?"

"I suppose you're right, hearing about your companies is more boring than working as a cashier."

You smiled tightening Kaku's grip on your hand, leading you through a pretty garden full of different flowers, completely oblivious to the reasons why you hadn't been allowed to attend today's meeting. You let go of his hand when he had to take a call, seizing the moment alone you bent down to see a lovely red rose, touching the soft petals of it, going down to the stem just feeling a little prick.

"Ow, it has very sharp spines."

You muttered, a drop of blood falling onto the green grass, staining it slightly red, you immediately felt someone pull your shoulder back, meeting you with a worried look that caused you to laugh.

"Let's get you a doctor."

"Kaku, it's just a cut, some water and a band-aid will suffice."

"Oxygenated water, we don't know if more people have touched that."

"Okay big baby…"

As you spent the afternoon nonchalantly by Kakucho's side, the rest of the boys personally took it upon themselves to give proper torture to that girl who once messed with your appearance, all taking turns slowly draining her blood, letting her life slowly and painfully escaped from her body.

"This teach you not to mess with mom, you stupid bitch."

Sanzu smiled sickly, taking the last turn to finish at once, the others watching in silence, their faces, hands and clothes stained with fresh blood, feelings of pure hatred manifested with blows, stabs, cuts… it was the price to pay for messing with someone she shouldn't, and she had to accept it. Sanzu grabbed the trusty pistol from him, without thinking twice, drowning out the agonized screams that did not stop ringing for four full clock hours, the last drops of blood spattering the walls.

BONUS

"Where have you been? Arriving like this full of blood what the hell?"

Everyone ─except Kaku─ shrank from your angry gaze, ducking their heads like children scolded for doing something wrong, they already knew what they were up against when they arrived at your house completely covered in blood.

"Sorry mom."

They all answered in sync, avoiding your gaze at all costs so as not to feel worse, but they were too eager to see you after having disposed of yet another piece of garbage in the world.

"No 'sorry mom' do you know how difficult it is to get blood stains out of clothes? You're lucky I have my laundry hacks."

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isatswap · 2 months

Text

(isat spoilers, full game just in case) tell me about typos because oops

Sussed out

TTOS version of Kinda Sus dialogue from ISAT

Bonnie: ...

Loop: "..."

Bonnie: ...Oh, do you want me to start? Bonnie: We did it, Loop! Our journey is over now. Bonnie: ...meh. Bonnie: Looking back, this part was kinda...short, compared to our whole journey.

(...Only short for your party. You don't even remember how long you've been trapped.)

Bonnie: But we saved Vaugarde, Loop! That's something to brag about, right? Bonnie: I bet my sister will be impressed when I finally go back home. Bonnie: It was fun travelling with you, but i still need to take care after her. Or at least make sure she is OK. She is probably VERY confused right now, haha! Bonnie: Although, I might need to continue my travels after this...

Loop: (Oh, you know why, teehee~)

"To find a birthday gift for her?"

"To find the rarest Vaugardian recipe?"

Bonnie: Oh, you managed to figure it out! Congratulations! Probably makes sense because we are a family of chefs... Bonnie: Don't tell the others. I like seeing Mira trying to guess, it's so cute. Bonnie: What's it gonna be next? A silverware set? A golden spatula?

Loop: (You wanna see them laugh again...) "Well, she isn't cooking with these gueses"

(Bonnie makes a pained expresion, but after a second lets out a long "pfffft")

Bonnie: Hahaha! Fine, you win. Bonnie: I'll miss you, Loop. Including your jokes. Bonnie: Even though I never knew too much about you, I know you are a good person. And that is what matters, right? But you shouldn't hide from us this much, okay? We'd love to listen to your problems! Bonnie: You can also visit me at Bambouche! You'll get to see my kick-crab sister!

(Bonnie smiles at you joyfully.)

(You fake a smile with your eyes.)

Bonnie: ...That isn't fooling anyone. What's-

Odile: HEY! WHY IS THERE A LEAF IN MY BOOK???

Isa: W-WHAT?

Bonnie: ...oops, that was me. Forgot to tell her I've used her book for herb drying, hehe. Bonnie: But really, you don't look...happy. Is everything good? Need a snack?

Loop: "...What do you mean? I'm fine, teehee..."

Bonnie: That "teehee" was even more fake than your smile. Bonnie: And I don't just mean now! You've felt off since yesterday! You've stopped being mysterious and sassy and cool like usual! Now it's just kinda...sad. Bonnie: What's wrong, Loop?

Loop: "Nothing!"

(Augh, you said it too quick! Now they will ask more questions...)

Bonnie: ....fine. You could've just said you don't want to talk about it. Bonnie: But don't pretend it isn't there. I notice it because I care.

Loop: *mumbling* "...what would you notice, anyway...."

(...Bonnie...closes their eyes and sighs.)

Bonnie: Oh, I notice a lot of things, Loop.

(...?! Did you say it too loudly?!)

Bonnie: ...I could brush off the fact that you don't pay attention to traps... Or the way you find keys like you already knew about them, especially that Crying Key...

Loop: (!!!) "Boniface, wai-"

Bonnie: You're the person who is supposed to do those things, after all. But I draw the line at the books you've read.

(!!!!!)

Bonnie: See... I might not be as smart as Isa or Dile... But I am the oldest in the group. I feel like I need to look after you all very carefully. Bonnie: ... Bonnie: I am also a chef.

(...?)

Bonnie: Even now I can feel it... This sickly sweet scent around you. You read a book about it here, right?

Loop: (OH NO) "Bonnie, please..."

(You feel your pupils shaking.)

Bonnie: ...That was when I started to connect the dots, as Dile would say. Your sudden change of attitude, the books, the smell... Bonnie: Now that I say it, it also explains why you were unfazed by the spikes in the Death Corridor.

(YOU NEED TO STOP THIS. YOU CAN'T LET THEM FIND OUT!!!)

Loop: "B-but how would I know?!" Loop: "It the first time I'm here, so there is no way I could've known, right? I'm just trying to be cool, haha!"

(Your small laughs are getting pathetic.)

Bonnie: Oh, there is one way. You should know by now, with all your "research".

(!!!)

Bonnie: I wanted you to say it yourself, but it seems like I have to. Bonnie: You have been here before. Just not on your travels. You have been repeating this part of our journey. I guess more than once, even. Bonnie: Did something happen? Did you wish to loop back, just to cancel-

Loop: "NO!"

Odile, Mirabelle, Isa: !

Loop: "SOMETHING DID HAPPEN! BUT I DIDNT WISH FOR IT!"

(Tears start running down your cloaked face.)

Loop: "And I don't even know what happened! We have won! We should have won many days ago!"

Bonnie: Loop, please-

Loop: "And you can't figure it out more than me! Because you can't remember! And I never have the courage to share it!"

(The taste of the sugar...)

(You drop to your knees.)

Mirabelle: Loop, why are you yelling?

Odile: What is going on?

(They all can feel it. You can see it on their faces. Especially Bonnie's.)

Loop: "BECAUSE I THINK LIKE IT'S ALL MY FAULT! AND IT IS, ISN'T IT! I AM THE ONE THAT CAUSED ALL OF THIS SOMEHOW!"

Bonnie: No, wait-

Loop: "And if you remembered all the things I tried to get out, you would abandon me! You would hate me! And, and-"

<Loopback.>

Bonnie: ....fine. You could've just said you don't want to talk about it. Bonnie: But don't pretend it isn't there. I notice it because I care.

(You barely manage not to continue yelling.)

Loop: ...Thank you, Bonnie. But I don't want to talk about it, yes.

(Bonnie smiles.)

Bonnie: See, that was easy! But do get a snack later, you look... pale.

(...yeah, it was easy...)

"Boniface cares about you. [Increases the effectiveness of healing skills of the wearer]"

#isat #in stars and time #ttos #in stars and time spoilers

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emberfrostlovesloki · 6 months

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Aaron and Criminal Minds December Prompt List [a ramble]

Photo credits after the tag list

Good evening loves! We made it to November! It’s hard to believe. I know it felt like crawling over some metaphorical finish line to get here, but I made it and you did too, and I’m proud of you for that! As we start ramping up to the holiday season, I’ve been having Hotch thoughts, as per usual. This month I thought I’d make a prompt list and share it with anyone who would like to write along, a la @imagining-in-the-margins. I won’t write for all of these, but I will for at least a few. The rules for using these prompts are that there are no rules! You could use any Criminal Minds characters, OC’s, reader inserts, etc. You could draw, write, make mood boards, or anything else you can imagine. I have included 31 prompts for each day of the month. I also get inspiration from plain old words, so I’ve included 10 December-y words that might inspire something. I've tried to keep the prompts non-holiday center as everyone has their own traditions/faiths. Lastly, I’ve included a few dialog and art prompts too. You can find that all below the cut. If any of these prompts inspire you to create, I’d love to be tagged to see what you have made. This is all just for fun. I wish everyone a great start to the month. Please know I’m proud of you wherever you are right now. Love - Levi ❄️❄️❄️

General Prompts

Character A gets Character B and an advent calendar.

Character A’s child is in the school pageant with Character B’s child.

The team gets snowed in on a case.

Character A goes caroling and sees Character B get into a dangerous situation; Character A intervenes.

Character A buys some holiday-themed underwear to surprise Character B with.

Character A buys a gift that can’t be wrapped for Character B.

The sidewalk is icy and Character A unceremoniously falls into Character B.

Character A is too sad to celebrate the holidays and Character B provides some comfort.

Characters A and B get stranded in the airport trying to get home for the holidays after their flight gets grounded.

Characters A and B read A Christmas Carol aloud to a group of children.

Christmas dinner at Rossi’s.

An unsub strikes while the team is off, so they have to come together.

Characters A and B bump into each other at a Christmas tree lot.

Character A knits/crochets a scarf for Character B which is way too long.

Characters A and B find a stray kitten in the cold and decide to adopt it.

Santa Clauss is a woman this year.

Character A buys gender-affirming clothing for Character B as a gift and to let them know they accept them as they are.

The team watches the most cringy Hallmark holiday movie they can find.

Character A shares their spice wine recipe with Character B.

Characters A and B serve at a shelter for those less fortunate.

Character A and B are forced into the office alone - work does not get done.

Characters A and B meet at an ice skating rink.

Character A has been overworking themself and Character B does the holiday prep for them.

The team makes sure everyone’s dietary needs are met before the office potluck.

Characters A and B take the next step in their relationship.

Characters A and B find themselves under the mistletoe.

Character A makes a revelation about Character B.

Character A hears Character B sing for the first time. - forthcoming for my love, Rome (@criminalskies)

Character A looks for a sexy outfit for New Year's Eve.

Characters A and B plan for the future.

Classic New Year’s kiss shenanigans.

Word Prompts

Yuletide

Twinkle

Snowball

Sweater

Bitter

Gingerbread

Fireplace

Avalance

Stocking

Flannel

Dialog Prompts

“Wait, you LIKE eggnog?”

“If anyone says anything about mistletoe I’m going to scream!”

“I’d tell you what I want for Christmas, but it will make you blush.”

“Ohhhh… I didn’t mean it to be an ugly sweater…”

“Hey, just a heads up. My friends will think we’re fucking.”

“Let’s skip the office party and go out on the town instead.”

Art Prompts

Any CM kid asleep under the tree.

Any BAU member in an ugly sweater.

Any BAU member wearing reindeer antlers.

Characters holding hands.

______________________________________________________________

Tag list: @tgskitten @geminitapestry

Want to be added to the tag list? Please see this post, CM tag list (linked)

______________________________________________________________Photo credits

Top row: Left (@sadgirlzluvdilfs) Center (@holly-days) Right (@peacefulandcozy)

Middle row: (@fallingforchristmasworld) Center (@sadgirlzluvdilfs) Right (@happyheidi)

Bottom row: (@happyheidi) Center (@rhiannonwrites) Right (@themoontaxi)

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felassan · 6 months

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Dragon Age: The Official Cookbook: Tastes of Thedas lore post Part 2

This post is part 2 of 2. [Link to Part 1]

(Post contents under a cut, in case anyone would rather not read cookbook spoilers. also due to post length)

If I have forgotten, misread or misunderstood something, please let me know.

This post is complementary to Part 1, so please see Part 1. The first post contains some other information, such as a full list of what culture[s]/area[s] each dish comes from, a full list of all in-world ingredients mentioned and notes on the worldstate that the cookbook was written in. The lore collected in this post is just a general note of lore mentioned in the cookbook, so it contains both old/previously known lore, and new lore from the cookbook. There is a bit of repetition in places where a piece of lore made sense in include in multiple categories.

[☕ found this post or blog interesting or useful? my ko-fi is here if you feel inclined. thank you 🙏]

[Devon/mom mentions from blurbs]

Devon, their mother and the cookbook

The cookbook introduces a new character called Devon, who is the narrator, writer and compiler of the cookbook in-world. Devon is now an adult, and their mother was the cook for the Couslands at Castle Cousland (implied to be Nan from the Human Noble origin). In their youth Devon helped their mother out in the kitchen, undertaking chores like sweeping the floor. They also helped cook from time to time (which their mother approved of and expressed pride to them over). They were child-like and a dreamer, often daydreaming about going off on a grand adventure and engaging in acts of heroism, and getting into trouble from their mother due to this. They did not used to be very adept in the kitchen and at one time almost set Castle Cousland on fire with their first attempt at a stew. Since then they have been practising cooking extensively and are now a good cook. Their mother taught them the important lesson of love through food. Devon is very much their mother's child, and loves food.

The position of Cousland family cook is implied to no longer exist. Devon's mother is implied to have now passed away. (and in game Nan dies during Howe's Treachery)

Devon's mother nearly lost her mind trying to keep the Hero of Ferelden's mabari out of her larder. Similar to this, falling 'prey' to a nug's cute face once resulted in a nug (which are voracious omnivores) in Devon's kitchen eating lots of their food, and Devon discovering first-hand how voracious they can be in their efforts.

Devon has a desire to see all of Thedas and as an adult recently embarked on a journey to travel throughout Thedas in order to see and experience its different types of food, in order to honor and thank their mother. This was a year-long journey involving many weeks on the road, with the occasional encounter with bandits and beasts. They travelled by carriage and on foot.

Devon travelled throughout Thedas, including Nevarra, Orzammar, Tevinter, Ferelden, Orlais, Antiva, Rivain and among the Avvar. They met and spoke to various key characters including Varric, Sera, Krem and Bull's Chargers, and sampled every local cuisine they could get their hands on, even the downright strange. They filled their book with different recipes and thought of their mother with each new entry, in order to share them and the lesson their mother taught them with the rest of the world. Some of their recipes are based on these conversations. Others are Devon's mothers recipes or Devon's own recipes/experimentations with other foods.

Devon is something of a fan of the Hero of Ferelden, Hawke and the Inquisitor (especially the HoF) and displays a child-like excitement for the world. On their journey they tracked down foods eaten by the heroes and their companions. Devon's hero worship of the PCs and their companions was part of their motivation for their journey.

Devon's mother often had her hands full with the Cousland's meals.

Devon's mother had a recipe for Chocolate Cake. She baked it for Devon's tenth name-day and then at their every name-day after that as Devon always begged for this. To this day when Devon thinks about their mother's love for them, this cake sits front and center in their mind. The Fereldan Potato and Leek Soup included in the book is also hers, though for the book Devon put their own little twist on it, using crispy toasted chickpeas from Rivain for the crunch rather than a side of toasted bread. Devon loves stews and their mother's stews will always rule their heart (the recipe for King Alistair's Lamb and Pea Stew comes close to stealing that crown). Devon's mother always knew that there is no greater comfort than a warm slice of cobbler, and the simple pleasure of her baking would wash away all of Devon's troubles from the day when they ate some in her kitchen (it's hard to feel the sting of a skinned knee or a lost game when your belly is full of warm gooey goodness). Devon's mother usually made her cobblers with strawberries and rhubarb, but only the stems not the leaves as those are poisonous.

Devon's mother was kind and indulged her child, whom she loved.

Devon likes hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and dusted with cinnamon.

Devon loves sweets and desserts.

Tea is a nice accompaniment for sweet treats. Tea exists in many blends. Devon likes deciding which biscuit to pair with different blends.

Once when young Devon tripped and fell face-first into a patch of nettles. They cried and got a lecture from their mother, telling them to play elsewhere from then on. Also when Devon was young, they were very reluctant to eat their greens/vegetables. But their mother always used to say that you can't only live off meat, and any meal without vegetables is a meal half-finished. They didn't understand her reasoning then, but they do now. Ever since hearing Leliana kept a nug as a pet, Devon has desperately longed for a Schmooples of their own. Another lesson their mother taught them is that sides form an equal part of the equation in a meal to the main part of it, and that they deserve just as much care and attention as the dish they are served alongside.

Ferelden

Fereldans - including their mabari - love cheese and bacon.

Barley is a common grain grown in Ferelden. In Ferelden grain is usually barley or wheat. Rice is very rare in Ferelden.

Hearty Fereldan Scones are hearty, packed with cheese and bacon, and keep a person sated for a good while. They are less sweet and less delicate than their counterparts (referring to Orlesian scones?). Mabari like them due to the cheese and bacon content.

Pickled Eggs taste salty-sour and are a very common Fereldan folk remedy, 'prescribed' by them for almost anything, including fevers, colds, aching body parts and when you feel a bit of illness coming on (sounds like chicken soup in parts of our world hh ^^). If asked for advice on health or when they meet someone who looks a bit under the weather, many Fereldans recommend and provide pickled eggs. When Cullen was experiencing lyrium withdrawals, Fereldan members of the Inquisition left a heap of pickled eggs in his office. whether this actually works or not we don't know. Still, loving pickled eggs is a Fereldan trait and they are considered one of the country's finest snacks.

In Orlais, City and Dalish elves eat Peasant Bread, which is a rustic, hearty type of bread with a straightforward recipe that calls for wheat, salt and grease in nearly equal parts. This produces a biscuit that is good for mopping up last bits of stew and pairing with butter and jam. Devon remarks that this biscuit is reminiscent of Fereldan cuisine.

Fereldans love stews; people, including Fereldans themselves, joke about this often. The three key aspects of any good Fereldan stew are that it's hearty, humble and straightforward to make.

Devon assures the reader that Fereldans don't actually cook their ingredients until they're all "a uniform grey color", contrary to what Alistair once said. They do however throw them into the largest pot they can find, with the rationale being that if you're going to make a stew, you might as well make a lot of it.

Lamb and Pea Stew is hearty, humble, and straightforward to make. This dish is so ubiquitous in Ferelden that it's almost become synonymous with Fereldan cuisine.

Sweet and Sour Cabbage Soup is a Fereldan staple and Fereldans enjoy it regularly. It's more solid than liquid, filled to the brim with cabbage, tomatoes and other vegetables, and is paired with a thick slice of bread. This makes it a filling, satisfying and warming meal, especially on cold days.

A troupe of actors in Orlais focus on a popular comedy set in the fictional Fereldan village of Wilkshire Downs. Their performances sell out almost instantly. In order to play their roles well, and out of dedication for their craft, the actors changed their diets to match those of their characters. For example, there's a mayor character who specifically only eats cabbage soup (bear in mind this is Orlesians trying to get in 'Fereldan character').

Nug Bacon and Egg Pie is a traditional Fereldan farmer's pie.

Fereldan ale is soothing and relatively easy on the stomach, compared to something like a Hissing Drake.

Fereldans love turnips and enthuse about them. Turnips make a good addition to any stews and are also good in pies. They're versatile and can be prepared in many ways (boiled, stir-fried, roasted, steamed, mashed, eaten raw, etc). Turnip and Mutton Pie is a classic Fereldan dish served at taverns across the country. It's an unmatched, rich comfort food that is good on cold or miserable days. Even the smell is comforting. It consists of tender chunks of lamb and turnip enveloped by buttery crust. Cole once evoked this sense of comfort by throwing a bushel of turnips into a fire.

Kirkwall

Crab Cakes is a classic Kirkwall dish.

The Hanged Man's Mystery Meat Stew is a famous dish from this Kirkwall tavern, and its feature dish. It's made from a different meat every morning, such as pork or something more suspicious/less appetizing. The waitress at the tavern claims that they hang people who ask what meat it is from the rafters.

Roasted Turkey With Sides is found in Starkhaven, Kirkwall and the Free Marches in general. This dish is common at birthday celebrations and dinner parties. The turkey is cooked til golden-brown and surrounded by a host of different sides, creating an impressive scene. This meal is complicated, difficult and time-consuming to prepare. The turkey alone can take hours to do. If a few sides are involved it can take most of the day, especially without kitchen staff. This meal is meant to be shared.

Orlais

A common feature of Orlesian cuisine is lots of cream.

Creamy soups seem to be emblematic of Orlesian cuisine.

Some strong/hot combinations of spices are a bit much for Orlesian palates, which are more delicate than others.

Lately in the Grey Wardens, a new variation of the Grey Warden Pastry Pockets (pastries stuffed with meat, potatoes and onion) recipe was introduced by new recruits from Orlais, which uses the more delicate Orlesian puff pastry. These newer pastries are delicious hot or cold but can't really be stored anywhere where they may be jostled as they will get mushed, unlike the original version of the recipe, which was tougher so as not to fall apart in packs when on the road.

Honey Carrots is an Orlesian staple, often found on the table at meal times in Orlais. The traditional Orlesian rendition of this dish is sweet due to liberal application of honey, implying that outside of Orlais other takes on this dish are less sweet with less honey due to differing palates/cuisine styles (since Orlesian standards run sweet).

"Blancmange" is an Orlesian word which literally translates as "white eating". The dish Blancmange is white pudding made with either milk or heavy cream that has been thickened. On its own it has a sweetness that is mild by Orlesian standards; it's generally served with various toppings which amplify the sweet flavors. Possible toppings include red grape compôte, toasted almonds, ribbons of fresh mango and cherry sauce (the latter is Devon's preference). Alone blancmange is plain-looking so the toppings are also a way to decorate it with various designs.

Vivienne's preferred arrangement of Blancmange is a stunning, elegant, pristine white-on-white tableau of white chocolate curls and whole jasmine flowers, served on a dark plate for contrast.

Orlesian dinner parties are long indulgent slews of extravagance. Not finishing all of the courses may be perceived as being rude to the host or taken by them as offensive.

Orlesian desserts often include sugar and cream.

Sour Cherries in Cream is an Orlesian dessert composed of a small bowl filled with black cherries dressed in sweet cherry sauce and whipped cream. This dish is an example of one which is lighter fare than usual for Orlesian cuisine, and may be eaten as the last course of an extensive dinner party (as even the Orlesians are sometimes in need of lighter fare).

The Orlesians know how to make a good pastry.

Croissants are the most well-known Orlesian pastry. They are a lot of work to make. To achieve their famous flaky texture, dough is layered with butter and then rolled (with a rolling pin) and folded several times over, before being rolled into a thin sheet.

In Orlais, City Elves and Dalish Elves eat Peasant Bread, a rustic, hearty type of bread with a straightforward recipe that calls for wheat, salt and grease in nearly equal parts. This produces a biscuit that is good for mopping up last bits of stew and pairing with butter and jam. Devon remarks that the biscuit is reminiscent of Fereldan cuisine.

Tevinter

A mysterious, strange, impossible-to-identify meat is often served in taverns across Tevinter, often with a big portion of Nevarran flat bread. It's something of a tall tale. Devon ordered a portion, wondering what exotic species it could be, and it turned out to be delicious chicken legs.

Stuffed Vine Leaves is a classic Tevinter appetizer sold in taverns there. Tender leaves are stuffed with rice, herbs and sometimes minced meat. Devon recommends topping it with lemon juice and some tzatziki sauce.

Dorian loves chocolate-coated orange peels, colloquially known as "Poison Stings". They are sweet, sour, crunchy, chewy and energizing. Dorian ate these a lot on his travels from Tevinter to Ferelden to join the Inquisition.

Cherry Cupcakes are decadent little pink cakes served alongside other sweets by servants on stilts at the Tevinter theater. The servants carry them to each private box. The cakes both taste and look good. They were once used as a vehicle for deadly poisons.

Tevinter Pumpkin Bread is one of Dorian's favorite foods. They are wonderful treats with limited ingredients, and can be made in a pan.

Starkhaven

Starkhaven Fish and Egg Pie is famous, almost oval in shape and stuffed full of fish from the Minanter River. It has a light flaky crust.

Starkhaven is beautiful, almost oval in shape, sits perched on the Minanter River and is crowned with solid rings of tall, gray stone. It has lavish estates and fountains. Minanter River fish are implied to be common in Starkhaven cuisine and trade.

Prince Sebastian Vael has high popularity.

Free Marches

Nevarra

The gardens of Nevarra are extremely beautiful, dazzling in their vibrancy.

In Nevarran culture, food is as much a feast for the eyes as for the mouth. They create artful and aesthetically pleasing food arrangements. Nevarrans like their dishes to be pleasing to the eye, and take this into account when cooking.

Nevarran flat bread goes from dough to ready to eat in minutes, contrasting other methods of making bread which involve baking loaves for hours. It can be eaten in many ways, including on its own, brushed with oil, or as a vehicle for an assortment of dips such as yogurt dip.

Antiva

Antivan cuisine includes pasta.

Dinnertime is usually a late-night affair in Antiva.

Rice is not seen much outside of Antiva and Rivain. Antiva exports very little of its rice. Due to this, in Antiva it's relatively cheap compared to other grains and is a key component in dishes favored by less well off Antivans. Crow Feed is a simple, cheap and delicious dish of rice, butter and onions, named after the Antivan Crows.

Fish Chowder is a classic Antivan dish. It's a thick creamy soup that evokes Antiva City.

Pickpockets seem to be common in Antiva/Antiva City, as Devon includes them alongside corrupt politicians and Antivan leather when referencing Zevran's homesickness for the place and creating an image in the mind's eye of Antiva.

Antivan meals "sure are something to behold". Antivan nobles have decadent, indulgent spreads for dinner involving lots of courses. Such dinners can have ten dishes, full of ingredients like olives, truffles, pasta and cream.

Gnocchi is a filling Antivan dish, with small pieces made of wheat, flour, egg salt and potato. It may be dressed with leeks and rich cheese sauce.

Being bordered by the Rialto Bay to the east, Antiva is mostly populated on the coast. Because of this seafood plays a starring role in Antivan cuisine. The classic Antivan paella exemplifies this, consisting of rice, saffron and a variety of seafood, from whole shrimp to cuttlefish to mussels. It's made in a single pot and the end result is aromatic. It's traditionally cooked in a shallow, wide pan called a paellera (or confusingly, in some parts of Antiva, a paella) but can be prepared in almost any deep skillet. It's best paired with a glass of wine, preferably an Antivan vintage. Josie recommends doing this. :)

Cacio e Pepe is a classic, simple Antivan dish among its rich and poor alike. It's composed of three main ingredients - pasta, cheese and pepper. Despite its simplicity it's hard to make correctly. The sauce has to be smooth, not clumpy, which is a surprisingly difficult task. However the skill of making it can be learned with practise and perseverance. Antivan grandmothers may sternly judge their young family members' attempts at making it correctly, only approving when it's just right.

Treviso is a port city in northern Antiva that was captured and liberated several times during the Qunari Wars and the New Exalted Marches. During the dark times of occupation, food was scarce, and the city residents had to make do with what limited ingredients they had. From their creativity in these times Treviso Energy Balls were born. These combine peanut butter, nuts and dried fruit into a bite-sized treat that contains lots of energy. They are ideal to take with you when hiking.

Antivan Apple Grenade is an Antivan dessert (sweet pastry bundles filled with piping-hot apple) named for resembling the fire grenades used by the Antivan Crows, both in shape and in heat.

Rivain

Rivaini cuisine includes couscous (a sort of pasta made with semolina flour and water, a lot smaller than typical Antivan pasta). Couscous sounds like it is not common or even known at all in the south. It has a mild slightly nutty flavor on its own and excels in soaking up surrounding flavors, making it a great base for salads.

Rice is not seen much outside of Antiva and Rivain.

Chickpeas come from Rivain.

In Rivain, a Goat Custard recipe is very popular as a dessert. The custard is made from goat's milk and studded with roasted figs to add sweetness to the overall richness. Milk from the Ayesleigh gulabi goat is particularly prized by custard connoisseurs in Thedas due to its natural sweetness, which when used in this recipe enhances the sweet flavors.

The classic Rivaini Tea Blend is probably the most famous tea blend in Thedas. It's a mixture of peppermint, lemon verbena, oregano and licorice root. This combination is soothing and said to have healing properties. Celene of Orlais drinks this tea throughout the day to alleviate headaches.

Anderfels

Smoked Ham from the Anderfels doesn't actually taste of despair, contrary to what rumors and the importers say. The Anderfels are largely ill-suited for farming, but pigs do surprisingly well there despite the inhospitable climate. Due to this Anderfels ham is big and is delicious when glazed. Devon favors a glaze made from a combination of apples and apricots. One glaze in particular is made from wildflowers and can turn a smoked ham as hard as jade, rendering it unsuitable for eating.

Seheron

Seheron smells like tea, incense and the sea.

Seheron Fish Pockets are hot due to a combination of spices, but the heat is tempered somewhat by the soft wrap and crisp vegetables. (They are a group favorite food of Bull's Chargers). The fish involved is packed with flavor and the pockets fall apart if eaten haphazardly. Devon learned this recipe from one of Bull's Chargers.

Avvar

The Avvar are gatherers as well as hunters.

When Avvar can't hunt gurguts and wyverns, they go for smaller prey and forage for alternative food items such as snails, which are common on hillside boulders. Snails are an abundant and traditional source of food for the Avvar. When prepared correctly the texture and flavor are good. It sounds like the Avvar usually eat them without accompanying ingredients such as salad. They can be dressed in butter and oil. They aren't common in Lowlander cuisine and many Lowlanders are unconvinced on eating/trying them.

Many Avvar settlements populate the Frostbacks. In spring Avvar begin preparing for the following winter by smoking meat, picking vegetables and drying fruit. Springtime is the gurgut's mating season. At this time especially travelers are advised to keep their distance from gurguts, as they're dangerous.

Lowlander spices are prized among the Avvar and often reserved for feasts as rare delicacies.

The Avvar are generally utilitarian in their cooking methods, with lots of stews. Holds by lakes and rivers have a unique way of cooking fish. Instead of using a pan, the fish is wrapped in pungent leaves and salt then left baking all day over banked coals. Like stews, this method of cooking does not require constant attention. The salt helps keep moisture inside the fish, which turns the flesh creamy and tender. Cracking the salt open is good fun.

Avvar live on whatever they can glean from the land owing to living in the inhospitable Frostbacks. They hunt all kinds of beasts, including harts, rams, lurkers, gurguts and sometimes even wyverns. Wyvern can be delicious but if not prepared correctly are very poisonous. Correct preparation involves following detailed instructions.

Chasind

Chasind love poussin, a good alternative to roast turkey though significantly smaller in size. The Chasind typically cook it in a large pot over an open fire for an extended period of time. A similar effect can be achieved with any other cookware of suitable size and an oven. The secret to tender meat that falls off the bone is marinating and basting it to keep it moist during the cooking process. Devon recommends grilled poussin for more intimate dinner parties with smaller guest lists.

Chasind drink Chasind Wildwine and Chasind Sack Mead. Both are strong, even brutal. The flavor of the sack mead is almost poetic. First there is an overwhelming rush of honey, tinged with the sour-sweetness of apple blossoms, that fills the mouth with all the bright warmth of a summer's day. The initial sweetness then fades and there comes an unexpected bitterness, reminiscent of the slow decay into fall. The drink is therefore like the turning of the seasons in a single cup/sack.

Dalish Elves

Preserved foods play an important role in many different cultures across Thedas, including the Dalish. They help communities weather times of scarcity (e.g. in winter) and allow people to make long journeys away from home.

Dalish hunters take preserved foods such as Spiced Jerky with them on their hunts as provisions so that they can bring back game the clan is depending on. It means they won't be hungry and don't have to be back in time for dinner. Due to how long it lasts, Devon wonders if Spiced Jerky is used in offerings made by certain Dalish to Fen'Harel. His shrines are usually located well outside of Dalish camps, but Devon posits that leaving behind food that would readily spoil would be bad practise, especially given the fact that the prevailing opinion on these shrines is to avoid them.

Dalish make Hearth Cakes as comfort food. They are traditionally made over the hearth on an iron griddle or skillet, hence the name. The original recipe calls for halla butter but other types of butter work just as well. The resulting dough stays moist inside but crisp and flaky on the outside. Hearth Cakes can be made plain or with added dried fruit, such as cranberries, raisins and currants. The Dalish use whatever is on hand.

The Dalish make a warm, gooey, comforting dessert called Dalish Forest Fruit Cobbler using whatever forest fruit is currently in season.

City Elves

In Orlais, City Elves and Dalish eat Peasant Bread, a rustic, hearty type of bread with a straightforward recipe that calls for wheat, salt and grease in nearly equal parts. This produces a biscuit that is good for mopping up last bits of stew and pairing with butter and jam. Devon remarks that the biscuit is reminiscent of Fereldan cuisine.

Lentil Soup is a popular recipe in City Elven alienages.

Orzammar / dwarves

Underground, dwarves raise spiders to eat just as surface folk raise cows and goats (this factoid appearing in the cookbook reinforces or perhaps, more accurately, properly canonizes this aspect of Orzammar/underground dwarven culture, as this was previously only featured in the DA TTRG). Spider legs are fried and served with a sauce containing alcohol. Spider legs are not unlike crab legs in taste. Sourcing spider legs above ground is not easy, and the demand from the surface for this kind of export from underground is minimal.

In dwarven culture sauces are often made with some type of alcohol. The precise kind depends on the establishment in question. The recipes for these sauces are closely-guarded secrets which chefs won’t specify. There are many varieties of these sauces. Orzammar has a fierce competition (to be crowned Orzammar’s Best Sauce) and so dwarves sometimes devise nefarious schemes and plots to acquire the secret sauce recipes. Lichen ale is generally not used in these sauces.

All mushrooms growing underground in caves and the Deep Roads are called "deep mushrooms" but there is no one variety of deep mushroom. There are in fact several. Some are squat, broad and flat-capped, while others are long and spindly, reaching towards the sky like an old man's gnarled fingers. They are used for many things, from making health potions to deadly poisons.

In Orzammar, deep mushrooms are farmed for eating. There they are a delicacy prized for their unique flavor and intoxicating scent. Some dwarves believe that a deep mushroom's proximity to lyrium and darkspawn improves its flavor. Devon, who is almost certainly human, suggests that non-dwarves and Surface dwarves who have lost their lyrium resistance should not eat deep mushrooms that have been in proximity to lyrium.

Dwarves roast cave beetles in their shells. Eaten in this way they are not unlike prawns, being similar in texture and flavor. This aspect of the lore book properly canonizes or reinforces another thing about dwarven underground culture that was previously only featured in the DA TTRPG.

Underground dwarves eat bread made from black lichen. Black lichen is toxic but high temperatures seem to largely neutralize this, making it safe to consume. Surface varieties of lichen can be substituted for the lichen used in making Black Lichen Bread. Any lichen used in making lichen bread needs to be thoroughly dried. Bark can also be used in place of lichen, although this would make the resulting bread more bark bread than lichen bread.

Nugs are edible and a key part of dwarven cuisine. The first dwarf to attempt eating one was called Varen. He did so out of desperation but became a paragon for his culinary discovery. The flavor is like a cross between pork and rabbit. Nugs are very tender, especially when roasted. There are lots of nug-based dishes including Nug Pancakes and nug-gets. For nug pancakes, other meats can be substituted.

Orzammar offers little in the way of choice when it comes to locally-produced foods. However, trade with the surface has ensured that foods from above ground are very popular underground. Jam, especially plum jam, is in especially high demand. It's very expensive there and only the most wealthy and influential Orzammar residents can afford it due to this. Recently Devon encountered a local jam maker in Orzammar who, rather than purchase jams as-is from merchants has opted to import only the individual components, in the hope that by making them themselves, they can sell the product at a much more reasonable price.

Food is easily defined underground; as long as it's edible and capable of being scavenged, it gets eaten. A surface dweller's understanding of "edible" may not align exactly with that of an Orzammar dwarf.

Lichen Ale is the drink of choice among Dust Town dwarves. It is literally toxic. In sufficient quantities it can overpower even the heartiest of dwarven constitutions. Consequently non-dwarves must approach it with caution. Most can tolerate a few sips without issues. Devon devised their own rendition of Lichen Ale using the dwarven recipe as a base, so that non-dwarves can enjoy the look and most of the flavors of the original without fear of poisoning themselves.

Grey Wardens

Grey Wardens undertake exhausting work in poor climates on patrol on the road. As such they need food items more nourishing than handfuls of nuts. On the road they often eat Grey Warden Pastry Pockets, pastries stuffed with meat, potatoes and onion. The original recipe produced a tough pastry to stop it falling apart in their packs. Lately a new variation of the recipe was introduced by new recruits from Orlais, which uses the more delicate Orlesian puff pastry. These newer pastries are delicious hot or cold but can't really be stored anywhere where they may be jostled as they will get mushed, unlike the original version of the recipe, which was tougher so as not to fall apart in packs when on the road.

Characters

When Cullen was experiencing lyrium withdrawals Fereldan members of the Inquisition left a heap of Pickled Eggs in his office, as these are a common Fereldan folk cure for many ailments.

Solas' bald head was at one point compared to an egg by another character.

Seheron Fish Pockets are a group favorite food of Bull's Chargers.

Krem tells an amazing story of a time when he, Bull and five other Chargers defended a village from fifty bandits. When the bandits were defeated and the Chargers went to collect their payment, the villagers paid them with several bags of rice rather than in gold. The Chargers used it to make dishes such as Rice Pudding.

Prince Sebastian Vael has high popularity.

There are rumors of a kind and appearing hero (Diplomatic Hawke).

Cole once evoked the sense of comfort from turnips/Turnip and Mutton Pie felt by Fereldans by throwing a bushel of turnips into a fire, via the smell.

Sera's Yummy Corn recipe is simple, yet strict, with no wraps and no non-yellow corn allowed. The corn should be checked for rot, peeled halfway, washed, cooked, peeled again and eaten. Devon holds that other varieties of corn would work fine too, but when they suggested this to Sera she was so disgusted that they couldn't bring themselves to try it. Devon assures the reader that merchant-bought corn is fine however.

Vivienne's preferred arrangement of Blancmange is a stunning, elegant, pristine white-on-white tableu of white chocolate curls and whole jasmine flowers, served on a dark plate for contrast.

Vivienne starts off her day with a croissant.

Tevinter Pumpkin Bread is one of Dorian's favorite foods. They are wonderful treats with limited ingredients, and can be made in a pan.

The Hero of Ferelden's mabari is very good at finding items. One time he even found a cake of a chocolate cream variety, topped with white frosting and fresh strawberries. Devon's mother nearly lost her mind trying to keep the Hero of Ferelden's mabari out of her larder.

Sugar Cake is a simple, humble cake topped with a sweet mixture of butter, sugar and almonds. Devon purchased one from a surface dwarf merchant who assured them that it would be well-received by any companion. The merchant told Devon that even the Hero of Fereldan purchased a few of these cakes as companion gifts.

Varric can disarm with humor, charm or through his spy network. Peoples' exasperation at his nicknames amuses him. He has a soft spot for the softer heroes, like Merrill, Bethany and Cole.

Cinnamon Rolls are one of Varric's favorite sweets. They are warm, sweet and comforting, perfect for time spent reminiscing.

Varric loves pastries, to the point that he's liable to steal them off windowsills if they have been left there to cool unattended.

Devon had an extensive consultation with Varric in order to put together the recipe for Varric's Favorite Pastries.

Varric loves sweets.

Isabela once played a drinking game where participants drank based on the number of enemies they had. This game killed a man.

Lampreys are one of Thedas' more unique-looking creatures. They have long slender bodies and toothed, suction-cup mouths. They are rare in Thedosian cuisine as they have noxious flavors. Lord Norbert de la Haine, who wanted to conquer the Free Marches, had a peculiar, singular fondness for pickled lampreys.

Iron Bull loves sweets. Hot chocolate is a particular favorite of his, to the point that it's practically a necessity for him. He swears by cocoa powder which is sometimes difficult to find (in the south). He takes his with hot milk and some Orlesian guimauves.

Other / unspecified / general

Preserved foods play an important role in many different cultures across Thedas. They help communities weather times of scarcity (e.g. in winter) and allow people to make long journeys away from home.

Lentil and onions are Thedosian stapes found in every pantry across Thedas. They're relatively inexpensive, keep well for long periods and go with almost anything. They play a supporting role in many dishes.

Fluffy Mackerel Pudding is a unique combination of mackerel, onion, celery and eggs that is strongly associated as a dish with Feast Day, when it is often eaten (as "Feast Day Fish"). There are stories that several decades ago, someone once attempted a diet consisting entirely of this dish.

There is a type of 'blood' soup which is vibrant red due to beetroot. It has a rich, earthy flavor and is topped with roasted chickpeas. This dish could either be one Merrill makes (since "Sera's Yummy Corn" is Sera's recipe, and this is "Merrill's Blood Soup"), or else it's named after her.

Roasted turkey is a dish that is sometimes cooked when having guests over for a dinner party.

Allowing nugs near kitchen pantries and stores is a recipe for disaster. They are voracious omnivores.

Sera's Yummy Corn recipe is simple, yet strict, with no wraps and no non-yellow corn. The corn should be checked for rot, peeled halfway, washed, cooked, peeled again and eaten. Devon holds that other varieties of corn would work fine too, but when they suggested this to Sera she was so disgusted that they couldn't bring themselves to try it. Devon assures the reader that merchant-bought corn is fine however.

Fruit cobbler is also a dessert known/made in other groups in Thedas, not just the Dalish, as Devon's mother baked it for them when they were young. Devon's mother usually made her cobblers with strawberries and rhubarb stems (not leaves, as those are poisonous).

There is a big variety of custards across Thedas.

Cinnamon Rolls are warm, sweet and comforting, perfect for time spent reminiscing.

Sugar Cake is a simple, humble cake topped with a sweet mixture of butter, sugar and almonds. Devon purchased one from a surface dwarf merchant who assured them that it would be well received by any companion. The merchant told Devon that even the Hero of Fereldan purchased a few of these cakes as companion gifts.

The Gilded Horn is a tavern which sells drinks like Hissing Drakes. Hissing Drakes have fiery effects on the stomach such that no sober individual would dare to down more than a single glass at a time. Drinking several in quick succession is quite a feat and formed the basis of a drinking game among some drunk young men that Devon witnessed. The men managed two or three servings before vomiting over the balcony.

There are many ways to dress up a cup of hot chocolate.

Antivan Sip-Sip packs a punch. People who are capable of downing an entire glass are made of quite stern stuff. Devon speculates that it's called a "sip-sip" because each sip of it must be chased by a sip of something else. When Devon tried it, they could scarcely manage more than a small sip at once, even though they also had a big glass of water at the time.

Dragon Piss burns like a dragon's breath both in the glass and going down.

Tea is a nice accompaniment for sweet treats. Tea exists in many blends. Devon likes deciding which biscuit to pair with different blends.

Snails aren't common in Lowlander cuisine and many Lowlanders are unconvinced on eating/trying them.

Nevarran flat bread goes from dough to ready to eat in minutes, contrasting other methods of making bread which involve baking loaves for hours.

Travel by carriage is mentioned.

Despite the name the drink The Golden Nug is pink. Inspiration for the drink was drawn from typical living nugs rather than the golden statues. The drink is made of a base of white Seleney wine sweetened with a splash of West Hill Brandy. This dilutes the color of the pomegranate juice and mulled raspberries into a soft, pinkish hue. The goal is to imitate the color of a typical nug.

Chantry sisters make some marvelous creations, including a spirit used in the making of The Emerald Valley drink which is distilled from over seventy different herbs and flowers. This spirit has a complex, varied flavor bursting with the freshness of a green valley.

Nettles are nutritious and delicious.

Source of the above information: Dragon Age: The Official Cookbook - Tastes of Thedas

If you’re not able to get the book, and there’s a recipe or two in the Contents that you’d like to see/read, let me know and I’ll show you. (❁´◡`❁)

[☕ found this post or blog interesting or useful? my ko-fi is here if you feel inclined. thank you 🙏]

#dragon age #bioware #video games #long post #longpost #ref stuff #alcohol cw #solas #cole #spirit boy #blood cw #alistair theirin #fav warden

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bonefall · 1 year

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if windclan got cows/the barn near their territory at the lake doesnt that mean they can have cheese.. like if they steal a milk bucket from the humans

[Image ID: Two cats are drinking out of a milk bucket. There is a row of cows in the background.]

Too large! Can't snatch something that weighs more than you do. Even SkyClan would have issues stealing cartons or unattended creamery deliveries.

Besides-- they are incapable of keeping cattle, they do not milk farm cows, nor does any Clan have reliable access to milk. Even just drinking like these two cats would give them an upset stomach because of the fact they are lactose intolerant.

As anyone who's lactose intolerant personally knows, that wouldn't stop them from snacking when they have the chance... but it does prevent their culture from having so much milk on hand that they can experiment with it.

They would not discover that milk can be churned into butter, or even that cheese is a dairy product.

So I will never be including milk, cheese, or butter in Clan recipes. I will also not be working backwards to give them these things, since I want to make a culture for the Clan cats that's organic! I don't want to justify giving them something arbitrary, which would even present additional problems for the culture, just for the sake of having something they don't need and wouldn't think of on their own.

(See also: How I am trying to avoid a bad-case scenario I call an "Incan Wheel")

They can snatch occasional sticks of butter just as snacks, though! But that's it.

#Clan Culture #Milk #Dairy Products #I'll be linking this one when the subject of milk or dairy comes up in the future!#Because it comes up a lot #Butter #Cheese #Warrior Bites

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witheredoffherwitch · 7 months

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hello there! just wanted to send an encouraging ask as I very rarely look at any hotd-related content on here (due to the lack of critical thinking that can be found and the pure vitriol spewed through anonymous messages - many lovely mutuals have also received horrendous anons telling them they should be physically harmed since they do not enjoy an incestuous crackship and that’s absolutely unhinged!) and you’ve handled these absurdly obnoxious, transparent anons in your inbox with grace and eloquence. it’s been a year and many moots on twitter have learned to keep to themselves regarding opinions related to alys/aemond and how it could possibly be interpreted as a gothic tale/romance (as they keep tabs over there too) but it’s truly pathetic and unsettling to see how a certain part of this fanbase CONTINUES to spew their hate and try to incite a reaction. rooting for a female character to be sexually assaulted simply because one is bitter over an incestuous crackship not happening is the definition of childish and frankly very odd. there’s already more than enough of that in this whole franchise and aemond taking a woman by force is simply not in-keeping with how they’ve characterized him in the show (as you’ve aptly acknowledged) and is very unlikely to happen (much to their displeasure). their relationship is not a fairytale but that doesn’t mean it has to include that at all.

anyhow this ended up being way too long but wanted to commend you for dealing with this pure nonsense from Those shippers! I’ve turned my anon option off to avoid this sort of behavior and moots who think alys has alot to offer as a character have received tons of hate while minding their own business. it’s been a year and they are STILL insufferable. seems they cannot cope with the fact that she will be in the show and that their ship is not happening. very sad. in any case, gayle seems like a very dedicated actress and she and ewan are surely to have an interesting screen presence together. can’t wait to see what they bring as a duo chemistry-wise and their performances! 🥰

Ahhh Cecilia!! I'm so sorry for getting around to your message so late, but I am all the more grateful to you for reaching out at the time. Aside from those two anons (to whom I so eloquently requested to throat my cock), I think I did a pretty good job at handling this ongoing dissent. Thank you so much once again!

I am so sorry that you guys had to deal with this kind of nonsense before, BUT I seriously hope that these anons have not deterred your enthusiasm for any Alysmond content. We barely make for a moderately-sized Kpop girl group -- and I hope the few remaining girlies are still active to keep this small hive humming and buzzing. Alysmond is a ship that will sustain irrespective of what the show follows - i mean, we have other crackships that are still going strong after all. We should grant ourselves a bit of freedom to express our creative interpretations of the narrative.

Coming to what you said about Aemond's depiction in the show, I 100% stand by that take. He's not shown to be an unreasonable brute who will take someone by force. Moreover from whatever leaks we've got till now (though I would take them with a grain of salt), Gayle's Alys is also made to come off as a very kooky character. Regardless of what they show on-screen, I am already drowning ten-feet deep into these headcanons -- IMAGINE the first interaction between Alys 'a barn owl cursed to live in human form' Rivers and Aemond 'tis I who studies philosophy' Targaryen. I don't care what anyone says because that's a recipe for deliciously dark and romantically gothic meet-cute. That's our quirky cursed witch and menacingly tortured kinslayer! If Condal messes it up, then we have enough material to draft multiple fucking AUs for ourselves. LOL I've even suggested earlier how we only need Gayle in Alys' costume -- because rest assured, we'll do the rest with moodboards and countless video edits.

I am extremely tight on schedule since I am doing my Masters while working a full-time job -- and because of that, I am short on producing the kind of content I'd like BUT hopefully, I can get something out by the end of this month. To be very honest, I actually don't really mind crackships (I read them all the time and have shared links to some of my favorites) but what really annoys me is this constant need to put down other ships to justify your own little delulu headcanons.

Anyway thanks for reaching out once again, and you are welcome to take a nice cushy spot in our coven.

Love, Kalki. 🤗

#anon asks #lovely sisterwife 💕#alysmond hive #coven convening #hotd fandom #shippy discourse

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faghubby · 2 years

Text

CHASTITY, NO NOVEMBER

Heather wasn't kidding about being harder on Paul. The next morning

"Chastity go make me breakfast" she order Paul as soon as he woke up. He did as told just grabbing a robe to wrap around himself.

"Chastity you need to wipe better when you pee you left drips on the toilet seat" she told him as she sat down to eat breakfast. Paul went to sit.

"Juice?" She asked. He went to get her juice. He sat across from her.

"My foot is cramping" she placed her foot on his lap. He stopped eating and rubbed her foot.

"You need to pick up some more pantyliners" she told him. "Not really panties those little undies you wear are they, would you like them to be?" She asked.

"No, I don't think I would" Paul told her.

She knew his food was getting cold she had him rub one then the other till she was done eating then left him to eat. Heather was back in bed when Paul came in to shower. When he came out.

"Come sit" she patted the bed next to her. She took off his towel and rubbed a pair of soft pink panties against his balls.

"Do you like how soft they are?" She asked. He just moaned.

"I would like you to wear them today" she told him "See how they male you feel." He shook his head no.

"Are you sure" she rubbed them along his inner thigh. He stood and took them sliding them on.

"Let me see the back" she told him giddy. He turned.

"You look so hot" she told him. He finished getting dressed.

"I wrote a list to get at the pharmacy" she told him texting it to him.

Extra large lube ( your ass is going to get a work out this month)

Pantyliners

Enema ( I like a clean hole)

Lipstick (in case you suck my cock again)

Lotion ( my feet may need a rubbing everyday)

Nail polish ( you pick the color)

Queen size pantyhose

Paul read the list then looked over at her. She just smiled and blew him a kiss. He found everything but had not told him what color lipstick. He was looking at colors.

"That is way to dark for your completion" an older woman walking by said. His eyes darted around looking to see if anyone else heard.

"Try this" the woman said selecting one. Paul looked shocked

"Men don't buy lipstick unless they know exactly what shade to buy their wives." She said answering his unasked question.

She put her finger to her lip with a smile. Looking in his basket. Paul used a self checkout to avoid the young woman from noticing what he had purchased. He had gotten a grocery store list from Heather. So he headed to the supermarket.

/how do you like wearing my panties?/ she texted.

/they keep riding up/

/ does that make you feel sexy/

/yes/

/maybe you should try a thong/

He didn't respond but did call her twice about the shopping as he filled the cart. She had him go to Target next.

/Pick out some panties for yourself. Size large / she texted. He felt really uncomfortable as he went to the lingerie section and fumbled through a table of panties. He picked a very soft pair of blue panties and then a white thong. He couldn't belive what he was doing. He picked up a few other items she needed as well.

/any other pretty things you like ☺ / she added but he ignored it

Gain he used self checkout. He stopped and picked up lunch on the way home. Heather sent him naked pics of herself getting in the shower. Heather was back in bed when he got home. He put everything away. She sent a link for a recipe.

/ this is what I want for dinner/

She was eating her lunch in bed. When Paul came to put away the things in the bathroom.

"I want to see what pretty panties you picked. He showed her them. She was all smiles.

"Just two pair?" She teased. Then she saw the lipstick

"Do you want to suck my big cock" she teased rubbing his balls through his pants. He just moaned. And put everything away including HIS new panties.

"What would make me really happy is if you did the laundry and cleaned the bathrooms" she told him.

"You would like that wouldn't you?" She asked

"Yes" he moaned as she was still rubbing him.

"You would love to clean the whole house for me wouldn't you?" She asksd

"Yes" he told her. As his eyes rolled back. "Why don't you wear one of my aprons while you do" she told him. He just nodded

"I expect since you like cleaning so much you will love to keep the house spotless all month" she told him

"Yes, please" he begged and she stopped and smacked his ass.

"Better get moving" she laughed. Heather spent the day in bed watching TV and talking on the phone. Paul cleaned. He had not stopped all afternoon and now bought Heather dinner in bed. She loved that he wore her frilly apron as well.

"Go get your plate so we can eat together" she told him. They sat and watched TV and ate and laughed. Paul cleared the dishes. He didn't come right back instead he did the dishes and cleaned up after dinner. When he returned Heather was in the bathroom so he stripped and remade the bed. She was happily surprised when she came out.

She unbuckled his pants and rubbed him through her panties.

"I could suck your dick right now. Too bad it's all locked up" she told him. And stopped. She took off her panties and climbed in bed.

"Come on just because you can't cum doesn't mean I cant" she told him. He stripped down to her panties and crawled under the covers and buried his face between her thighs. Heather made him make her cum twice before he could stop. They cuddled and she played with his nipples while they watched TV.

"I want you to wear your new thong tomorrow." She told him. He understood she wasn't asking. He drifted off to sleep first.

They got up early and Paul did put on the thong.

"Do you like how it rubs against your hole" Heather asked pulling the back up high. Paul moaned.

"Yes" he confessed

"Good, I ordered you some more" she told him. She sat him on the bed and pulled out the pantyhose. She balled them up and slid them on his feet

"I can't not today" he begged. As she had him stand she pulled them up. They felt amazing and Paul rubbed his shaved legs together.

"I don't think you want to take them off" Heather smiled rubbing his ass. She had him wear his jeans and a long shirt tucked into them.

"Make sure you stay tucked or someone will see" she told him. He also pulled his socks up high. Just as they where ready Heather dabbed perfume on his neck.

"Just marking you as mine" she told him. They left for his sisters house. It was over an hour drive. Heather teased him the whole way. First she showed him the panties she had ordered. Then she went to an online adult store and ordered toys. But the worst was she went to a port site and masterbated as he drove to pics of big cocks.

"Do you think I could take this one? Or that one?" She would ask showing him the pics. "They are all so much bigger" she said rubbing his cage. His pantyliner was wet when they arrived.

"You need to start carrying a change" Heather told him pulling one from her purse. He went into his sister's house and changed his pantyliner. Even this seemd to excite him.

It was his nephews birthday and he said hellos to the family. His sister Amy handed him a beer.

"That's the first and last one" Heather whispered in his ear. As she bit his ear he just nodded. No one seemed to notice and when his sister went to give him another he just claimed he had a headache.

"Better not have one later mister" Heather teased. As the chaos died down a bit.

"Why don't you help your sister clean up" Heather whispered to him her hand rubbing his ass. He just went in the kitchen and started the dishes.

"I am not complaining but wow" Amy laughed.

"He has become a my little helper around the house lately" Heather told her. A bit of teasing from his brother in law. But the ladies decided he needed to step up and take out the trash. Shutting him up.

Heather came up behind me and wrapped an apron around me.

"So you remember" she smacked his butt. It was just a brown plain apron but still made his cage hurt.

Heather even managed to get my sister to take a break leaving more for me to do.

"Heather certainly has got you wrapped around her finger. My mother said coming into the kitchen. She was teasing knowing Amy would be happy for the help. She promptly went and sat with Amy and Heather. They where soon all laughing. By the time Amy came back in I had everything cleaned up. Amy gave me a huge hug.

"Little brother got a secret?" she asked. With a huge smile.

"Thank you so much Paul. Or is it Chastity" she whispered in my ear. "Don't panic I can keep a secret, no one else knows" she told me. "Whatever makes you guys happy" she kissed my cheek.

We said our goodbyes and headed home.

"I can't believe you told Amy?" I said as we drove away.

"Only about the cage" she told me. She was worried something was wrong like you where sick or something.

The rest of the way home she read me sex stories from literotica she focused on chastity and Cuckold stories. She would ask me about them when she finished. Would I want to suck a real man cock. Or eat a cream pie from her. Get all dressed up like a proper sissy. I was leaking again by the time we got home.

She stripped me down to my pantyhose and had me spend an hour between her thighs until she was satisfied. Then cuddled I slept innmy pantyhose.

In the morning after a brief argument I wore my new blue panties to work. Heather sent me several naughty pics through out the day. When I thought she sent another one just as I was getting ready to leave I opened it. It was an enormous cock.

/isn't it amazing/ she wrote.

I didn't respond just deleted it quickly. Over the next two weeks this seemed consistent. I too, care of all household issues.

From shopping to taking out trash. It was ALL my responsibility. Heather had bought two dozen pair of thongs. All thongs I wore one everyday. They seemed to get more pink and more lace as time went by. She pegged me once a week. Randomly. And had bought several butt plugs she liked me to wear around the house. Enemas became a punishment if I started and argument or just didn't do something. I hated them. She had also bought a paddle but had yet to use it. Was more a threat. But now I was waiting. She had been talking to a man online. I was against it but she told me she would just fuck my friends then.

She had sent me updates where she was who he was. She had spent the afternoon with him now I was waiting for her to get home. When she walked in she looked like she had just been fucked. Her makeup a mess her clothes askew and her hair just tied back. She came over and kissed me hard.

"It's your decision no backlash" she said. "But I would love if you cleaned me right now like in those stories" she then went upstairs letting me think about it. Was this too far. The panties were. So was the pegging. I loved this woman and wanted her more and more everyday. I know I denied it but I had become her sissy like the stories. She had just fucked some guy I thought. I went upstairs. I stopped her from getting in the shower.

"OK," I told her.

"Do you want me to make you, or let you take it slow." I looked down she had cum running down her thigh. I just knelt and licked it off her.

She laid on the bed and spread her legs.

"Do you want me to tell you stuff?" She asked. I just nodded no.

She laid quietly cooeing as I locked her clean. When I finished I laid on the bed next to her.

"I would like to see him again" she told me. He is very nice, and has a big dick. She informed me. She held me and rubbed my nipples.

"What do you want? I will unlock you now. Whatever, I can't lose you" she told me.

"Tomarrow is Thanksgiving." I said ' let's see how we feel on Sunday" I told her. She left me to process what had happened the rest of the night. I was surprised I spent it ironing. I took a shower and put on a sexy red thong and pantyhose. Then I found a red nightie way in the back of the closet I had bought Heather years ago. She was watching TV. I walked in with her strapon.

"Will you show me how he fucked you?" I asked she stood and took my cheek in her hand.

"No, I will fuck you like I have never fucked you before" she smiled. Knelt and helped her secure the strapon over her leggings. She took me to the bathroom and dug out the lipstick I had bought weeks ago and applied it to my lips.

"Your going to learn to suck cock good and proper you fucking bitch" she told me. I knelt on the bathroom tile and too, her fake cock in my mouth. I gagged and spit. Coughing but she didn't let up she was going to fuck my face one way or another. My knees hurt my throat and Jaw throbbed.

She told me how Brian had made her suck his bug cock. Then fucked her silly in multiple positions. How he wanted her ass but she refused since he had no lube. Heather finally pushed all 8 inches of her cock down my throat. Only then did she let me stop. My panties were soaked. Heather took them off the pantyhose and panties and made me lick them clean. Heather realized I was spent and took me to bed but didn't fuck me instead she spooned me her toy between my ass. We fell asleep.

I woke to Heather pushing the biggest plug into my ass.

"You are going to stay stuffed for thanksgiving" she told me. After I showered she sat me down and painted my toe nails.

"I been waiting to do this all month" she told me. She then went to do my fingers.

"No" I told her.

"But you picked out the color" she told me. Looked at the red then her with begging eyes. She put the red down and picked up a very pale pink. I wasn't sure but it was better then the red. She must of gotten up early she had everything ready and had laid out my clothes. A pink thong with a matching bra. I looked worried

"You have a sweat shirt no one will see" Heather told me. He clasped it on. Then a garter belt with attached stocking she made me switch the thong so it was over them so I could use the bathroom easier. She pulled out skinny jeans I didn't know I owned. And a white tee shirt you could see the bra through. Followed by a sweat shirt from her favorite team. We had a rivalry about football. She took pics at every stage.

"Socks with pink sneakers or your sneakers with no socks?" She asked me. I opted for no socks. She styled my hair in a new way and trmmed my eyebrows. I looked softer I thought. She then took my hand and slid it across her crotch. She smiled she had a cock. She spent the drive texting Brian. She read them all to me. The two where flirting and sending naughty pics to each other. She even sent him a pic of me in lingerie.

"You will help Amy, even during the game" she informed me. I nodded. Maybe I should have backed out yesterday. When we arrived Amy took one look at me and smiled.

"How are you doing " she held my hands covering my nails. Then looked over at Heather. She reached up and messed up my hair as my Dad walked in. She put me to work peeling potatoes. She had also put me in an apron. Heather left me in my sister's hands and went to watch the pregame with the guys. I bought her in a beer. The guys all started on my sweatshirt and watching the game. Heather jumped in and told me how I lost a bet. It was a stupid bet she came up with and they all called me a fool for making it. But I went back to help Amy. Heather smacking my ass to everyone's amusement.

Amy took me to her room and removed my nail polish. "What where you thinking" she told me. She then saw my ankle as my pants rode up.

"OH my, maybe some socks" she told me. I slipped off my shoes and put on socks.

"I don't want to know?" She told me. Somethings brothers and sisters shouldn't share. We hugged and went back to the kitchen. Heather came in on a beer run and noticed the socks. Amy gave her the whole what where you thinking look as well.

"That his sister would save him" she laughed smacking my ass I moaned as the plug moved. Amy burst out laughing.

"No, really, I don't want to know" she said trying to catch her breath. Heather just nodded confirmation.

"I let Ronnie try that once. No way" Amy informed us,

"He likes big ones" Heather told her holding up her hands.

"Well we have something in common Bro" Amy laughed letting me know Ronnie had a big dick. Heather left and Amy had a hundred questions. I told her everything.

"The cage is only this big she said holding up a tape measure." She seemed amazed. Amy and I had never been closer. We shared all kinds of secrets. When I told her about pantyliners she told me I was taking out the trash before I left.

When Heather came back around Amy walked up to her and slid her hand down her leg feeling the toy. Amy's eyes got wide she had not believed me. Heather was equally shocked and grabbed Amy's ass.

"Keep that up and I will take your ass" she laughed. Amy surprised and someone excited by the idea stepped back.

"I just wanted to make sure" she said we all laughed. As we ate we all kept smiling about stuffing and gravy our own personal joke. After dinner I never realized how much we left to Amy. Brian was no help at all. Everyone either went to watch the game or the kids. We cleaned up In record time. Amy took me to her room.

"I don't know, but if you want this" she pulled out a costume it was an Arabian night girl very sexy obviously bought for the bedroom. " I was nervous when I got it and got the wrong size it's way big on me. It will fit you. Nevermind I didn't mean" she babled

"Amy it's perfect Heather will love it" I told her.

"It's so great having a " she paused then looked at me "sister"

"That was the final straw I realized I was a total sissy at that moment" I hugged her.

"I am still your brother if you need me" I told her.

"I know" she just held me. It was hot in house but I still wouldn't take off the sweat shirt. Amy and I sat on the deck. I didn't even want to watch the game. She drank wine while I had ice tea. Heather didn't like me drinking. We stayed late everyone else had left. Brian was passed out and Heather was pretty drunk. Amy insisted we spend the night. And in the morning took me shopping.

She was a pro at black Friday shopping. We got everything on her list and then some. Then she led me to woman's appearel.

"I never know what to get you for Christmas but now" she looked around.

"Let's try stuff on" she laughed. She threw me in a changing booth the store was so busy not many shopping for clothes she just handed me a dress to try on. I had to open the door so she could see. She loved this I made her try on sexy dresses or things she would never wear. I made her buy sexy lingerie to wear for Brian. And she picked out one for me to wear for Heather. When we returned Brian and Heather where playing video games while the kids ran around.

"Where you girls been Heather asked.

"Shopping" I shot back. Amy made everyone breakfast and me and Heather headed home.

"Heather, yes" I told her

"Yes?" She asked

"To you seeing him again, to you keeping me locked to everything yes" I told her. Even with her hangover she was overjoyed.

"Whats in the bags?" She asked.

"Presents" I said

"For me?" She asked

"Mostly" I told her. "No peeking" I told her.

"Really, well then pull over" she told me. I parked on the side of the highway.

"Still wearing something pretty?" She asked

"Yes, it's new" I told her.

"Get out strip down to only girly things and then drive the rest of the way home" she told me. I got out it was freezing as I dropped my pants and jacket and shirt. I jumped in the car covered I pink.

I wore a pink bra and satin panties with a garter. Pink stockings

"Where is the plug?" She asked.

"In the black bag" I told her she pulled it out with some lube and had me sit on it. As I drove she took pics.

I told her I had bought a dress and a skirt. Along with some other things. As I drove the plug made me leak into my panties.

We talked about me sucking a real cock. I confessed I would try.

She was so turned on we stopped at a rest stop and she had me go down on her till she came. Before we could continue. More then one trucker honked at me as I drive. We both agreed to other then occasionally special trips this was all to stay at home. I could and would dress more femine at home. Especially in bed. She would be discreet in her sexual encounters with others. We also agreed I shouldn't be unlocked until January. A whole nother month.

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hotchnerxo · 2 years

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The chances you take: Chapter 15

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x single mom!reader

Summary: You've barely had a chance to see Hotch after the new years eve. But you've planned on talking with him after all the annual paperwork is done. Although, more important manners rise up.

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: A case involving a dissapearance of a child (does not and will not include violence of any kind), angst with hurt/comfort.

A/N: Because I can't let things get too happy ( yet ).

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Chapter 15: Doubts

Ever since the event, you haven’t been sure what to think. You’re really not sure if you’re ready to date yet. Adjusting to a new rhythm with Ella has taken its toll on both of you; not knowing when you’re going to be gone for a few hours and when it’s going to be days on end. Every moment you’re off the clock, you’re at home with your daughter or sleeping. Is there any room there for him? And Jack? And it’s not like he has a lot more free time anyway. His schedule is even more hectic than yours. Would trying this out only be a recipe for another heartbreak and therefore even cause problems for your friendship as well as your ability to work with him.

But on the other hand, it’s him. He’s such a wonderful guy and he understands the limitations the work might bring. He’s also a parent and the kids get along great. He’s so sweet and he’s not one to scare away easily by any baggage you have. Would there be hope for you? Or is it insane to even entertain yourself with the idea of you and him together?

What’s even more frustrating is the fact that you’ve barely seen him all week at work. And there’s so much to do. Apparently it’s the same every first couple of weeks after new years. Every report and casefile needs to be perfected and evaluated from the previous year. And as this is your first year of doing this, it’s taking you forever.

But it’s not his fault, he’s barely spent five minutes in his office, when he is already needed somewhere by someone. And you’ve texted with him a couple of times about wanting to talk about everything face to face at the end of the week. It’s certainly a conversation the both of you prefer to have in person rather than through text.

It’s just annoying not having him around. And when you find yourself thinking that more and more; you know your feelings are much deeper than you at first thought. You like seeing him when he’s working inside his office and at times when he comes down for more coffee, the way he mindlessly nos down the stairs is somehow adorable. Or when he comes back from a meeting, he looks over towards his team and you see him smile softly as your eyes meet with him.

But today, he’s been too stressed to even think about anything else but the next thing on his to do list.

Your mind wanders to him throughout the day, like it has all week. A loud ring from your work phone next to you drags you back to the moment.

“Agent (Y/L/N)” you answer the phone, trying to sound less tired than you feel.

“Hey (Y/N), it’s me” it takes you embarrassingly long for you to realize it’s your mother on the other end of the line. “Is El with you?”

“What?” The mention of your daughter makes everything else in your head quiet down. “No. Why?”

“Are you sure?”

“Am I su- Yes I am sure mom” you hear panic in your voice before you realize the feeling in your body. Agents near you have turned to look at you due to a sudden volume change. “What’s going on?”

“(Y/N)” she starts quietly but you can tell her voice is starting to shake “I’m at the daycare. She’s not here anymore”.

You’re glad to be sitting down as you are starting to realize what she means by that. “How is that possible? Only you, dad or me are allowed to pick her up. And she wouldn’t go with anyone else, would she?” you ask, not sure if it was directed more to your mom or yourself, trying to get a grasp of the situation as quickly as possible.

As your mom goes to explain, you’ve already put the phone on speaker and found Hotchner from your contacts. Despite the shaking of your hands, you type up a message ‘Call me, asap’.

“Mom, I need you to stay there. I’ll have someone come over there as soon as possible” you tell her and turn to look towards Morgan and Jennifer who have come to stand beside you, waiting for an order. You grab a post it note and write down the address for the day care: thank god you’ve memorized it from your countless trips there. You’re not sure if your handwriting is readable, but it’ll do and as you hand it over, the agents nod and are already on their way.

You’ve never been as relieved to see Hotchner’s name pop up on your screen as an upcoming call as you are right now. “Morgan and Jareau are going to be there soon, they will have badges. Only speak to them. I have to go” you don’t wait for her to respond before switching calls. “Where are you?” you ask him immediately, there’s no time for greetings.

A bit baffled by your tone, he responds dryly “Middle of a meeting. What’s wrong?”

“Ella’s missing” Once you word it out like that, you are starting to realize that this is actually happening. Your little girl is missing; someone else picked her from daycare and she might be in danger.

The two seconds you wait for him to answer have never felt so long. “I’ll be right there” he says and hangs up the phone.

Spencer’s stayed next to you until this point. He’s not sure what to do or say, but to be there with you and wait for Hotch to get here. You look at him, desperation written all over you and he looks just as helpless as you feel. Without saying a word, you step back and soon find yourself running towards Hotch’s still empty office. Your thoughts are clouded, nothing seems to make sense at this stage of panic. All you can think about is getting to his office because he will know what to do.

Once you enter the office, you’re greeted with silence. It’s in neat order, as it always is, but for some reason the order makes you even more on edge. Your mind feels full and cluttered, control is not a word you know right now. And as inviting the couch seems, your nerves don’t let you sit down and all you can do is pace back and forth.

“Hey” you hear his voice before he even enters the office. His breath was quicker than usual, he rushed to you as fast as he could; a budget meeting could wait. “Tell me what happened” his hand hovers next to your arm, as if he’s ready to catch you and reassure you that he’s really there.

You try to explain, but only a whimper comes out. You feel yourself crumbling under the panic.

“Here. Please, sit down for a moment” his hand has gently grasped on your arm and he helps you to the couch. You slump down on to the seat and bury your face into your hands. Aaron pulls a chair for himself and comes to sit close to you. His hand rests on your elbow, thumb soothingly running on your arm. He knows time is the most important factor when it comes to cases with kids, but rushing you through this will only hurt more.

After giving you a few moments to calm your breath, he speaks again “Tell me what happened”.

“My mom went to pick up Ella from the daycare” you sniffle, looking down at your hands “She said she wasn’t there anymore”.

Calmly and patiently, he asks you all the routine questions he needs for an amber alert. You’ve asked these same questions from parents of missing kids, but you never thought you’d be the one to answer these questions yourself about your own daughter.

3 years old, you put her hair on braids today, Frozen shirt and blue leggings and her favorite butterfly sneakers. She’s shy, might not respond to strangers, even police officers.

“I hate having to ask these” Aaron admits silently after you’ve answered the questions for the alert. His soft and compassionate tone and voice are soothing and calming your panic. His presence helps you see things more clearly again and organize your thoughts. “Let me call this in. Just try to breathe, okay?” he says and you nod, promising to try your best.

It takes him a minute or two to rely the information on, but not for a second does he leave your side. And once he lowers his phone, his attention is back to you.

“You did so good, okay? Everyone will be on this and we’ll find her, I promise you that. But I need you and I need that brain of yours” you take a deep breath and raise your teary eyes to look up to him. His gaze is warm and it gives you the energy to nod and try to organize your thoughts. “I’m right here with you”.

His support and presence means more than you could ever put into words. And he knows what to do, he always knows what to do and you would trust your life in his hands.

“I should be out there looking for her” you raise your voice in frustration but Aaron’s patience doesn’t run out on you. “I should be out there”.

“Trust me, I know. But Morgan and JJ are at the daycare, Reid and Garcia are making the alert and Rossi is working with the officers. And right now, you and I are going to think this through” he says as calmly as he can, hoping it will help and calm you down as well.

“Look me in the eye and tell me you wouldn’t be the first one out of that door if it was about Jack” you last out and jump up to your feet and return to pace back and forth.

Aaron gets up as well from his chair. There’s something else in his expression, something that you don’t recognize while trying to navigate through your own rollercoaster of emotion.

The sadness and regret in his heart weigh heavy “That’s exactly what I did and it got Jack’s mother killed” you stop your pacing and turn to look at him again.

You knew that Haley died a few years ago by the Reaper. You’ve read his profile many times, but you don’t know every detail. Was he threatening Jack? But right now it looks like there’s still a lot of guilt in him for what happened and he’s trying to make sure his mistakes aren’t repeated.

But you look at him with pleading eyes. Only thinking of Ella – and now, Jack being in a similar position before – makes your eyes water. “Then what? What can I do from here?”

“We need to think back, figure this out. I’m right here with you” he’s standing so close to you again and you just wish to wrap your arms around him and hug him; hope that all of this is just a dream or a result from miscommunication. You nod, not sure what to say. “Who else is allowed to pick Ella up from the daycare?”

First day at the daycare, you remember signing the paperwork and filling different forms for your daughter. Her normal information, like date of birth etc. but also allergies, possible medications. You also had to fill out things like who to contact if something happens and people that are allowed to pick her up, alongside of their contact information. You put up your parents as additional contacts and safe adults to the contract and you tell him that too.

But it takes you a second to think back to when you dropped her off today “But today” you start and find yourself searching for support from his desk that’s now behind you “when I went to drop her off, I was greeted by a temp”. Aaron can almost hear the speed of your brain as you try to think “There were two teachers sick today, so they were filling in. They must have been the ones to sign her out; they might not have been aware of the contract”.

“That would mean” Hotch leaves his sentence open ended, trying to help you piece it together.

“That would mean that Ted picked her up” you gasp and all of the sudden it all starts to make sense. “Because no one would question it if he says he’s Ella’s dad and he’s there to pick her up”.

“Would Ella go with him? Has she seen him before?”

“As much as I’d like to say no,” you try to think what your little girl would do. “Ted would find a way to get her to go. And if the temps don’t know Ella-”

Aaron nods understandingly. She’s only 3 years old and she’s shy. If Ted told her that he’s going to take her to see her mom or something similar, she might go without questioning it.

“Aaron” you start but the rest of your words die down. But he understands exactly what you’re desperate to hear.

“We’ll find her. I promise” and you believe him.

Taglist: @ahouseforhermitcrab @sinamew @lukeclvez @thebaileybugle @louderfortheback @skyler666 @lejlapvlc @14buddy22@anlin2058 @pandorasdreamings @newlydevouthotchgirl @whoreslovehotch @mrslizzyolsen @wheelsupkels @ssamorganhotchner @lilozg-123 @uraverage-virgowh0re@sarahfortin6201 @chaoticconnoisseurgiver @scargarcia-magshotchner @rousethemouse @sweetstrangermldadsblog@no-1martinipolice @marauderssimpcuzwhytfnot @mochamori @Ruler_Of_The_Awesome

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x single mom!reader #the chances you take fic #hotchnerxo fic #aaron hotchner fluff #slowburn #eventual romance

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eulaliasims · 2 years

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Chiana: Hi, Mom.

Clara: Hey, kiddo. You want some coffee?

Chiana: Sure. Um, is this a good time to talk? Is Dad around?

Clara: Uh-oh. He's at work, but—

Chiana: It's nothing bad! Just, I think if I ask him, he'll find someway to start talking about his new pie recipe instead, and then I'll just end up leaving with half a pie. And I'd like some pie, but that's not really why I came.

Clara: Good, 'cause we don't actually have any pie right now.

Chiana: Aw.

(Discussion below of reproductive choices, and government-controlled fertility in the context of an alien society. I wrote & shot this like 8 months ago, but in light of Roe v. Wade being overturned, I wanted to add a small warning in case anyone would prefer to skip that kind of thing.)

Chiana: Theo and I were talking about children. And I just wanted to, um, explore all our options.

Clara: I see! And I'm guessing you want to know more about the "Sixam Empire and SimNation Cross-Species Genetic Analysis and Allocation Agreement".

Chiana: Is that the real name? Holy crap, no wonder no one calls it that.

Clara: It's space, kiddo; if something isn't long enough to require an acronym, it doesn't legally exist. Well, I see why you asked me and not your dad.

Chiana: He doesn't really seem to like talking about, well, home.

Clara: He's become a bit disillusioned with the way Sixam does certain things, yes. He told me once he's not sure they should be trying so hard to save the Empire after everything, but I'm not sure if he still feels that way. Of course, he's got four healthy children, which is almost certainly four more than any of his crèche-mates, and the five grandkids. You know, I've always thought you probably have some half-siblings running around somewhere.

Chiana: What?

Clara: When you become an adult in the Sixam, the government gets a DNA sample and a gamete sample. They... I don't want to say own you. But everything you do is supposed to be for Sixam. That includes your fertility, or lack thereof.

Chiana: Mom! Why didn't you ever tell us this? What if we've, like, got siblings in the next town or something? What if I was dating another alien?!

Clara: I mean, the only one of you who ever had to worry about that is Gaila, and Mikhael is definitely not a relative. Your husband doesn't even have DNA, kiddo, let alone alien DNA. Anyway, I think if you do they're probably on a spaceship somewhere, not here on Earth. Chances are Sixam threw out any samples after Three left. Disobedience isn't really the kind of trait they want to cultivate, you know?

Chiana: This is so not how I was expecting this conversation to go.

Clara: I've gotten off-topic, huh? Sorry. Look, if you wanted to sign up, it'd depend on the technician currently in charge whether they're accepting half-aliens. Some of them think it defeats the point of the experiments, or that's what I've heard. If they say yes, you beam up, they do a genetic analysis, do the thing, you pop back.

Chiana: Not entirely sure I want to give them any DNA now, thanks.

Clara: Any particular reason to choose this over more conventional methods? If it's money—

Chiana: It's not. Just, they're my people too. Even if I apparently don't know as much about them as I thought.

Clara: Well, like you said, it's not Three's favorite subject. I'm sure Syx would talk your ear off if you ask, but half of it's gonna be lies, so fair warning.

Chiana: Everything Uncle Syx says is half lies, Mom.

Chiana: That's a... lot to think about. I always wondered, if Sixam wants hybrids, why not just invite sims to join the colony? I mean. It, uh, worked for you and Dad.

Clara: The exchange program was supposed to be a sort of trial run for something like that.

Chiana: Oh, I see. Sixam doesn't want more rambunctious grad students luring away their scientists.

Clara: I'm sure that's not the only reason.

#not pictured: Clara rescuing Chiana's coffee before she can dunk her hair into it with her headdesking #photoshoots with Chi are just a constant battle against her hair eating everything around it #Middleground #Blanch #Clara Blanch #Chiana Blanch #(yes this HAS been sitting in my drafts for 8 months)

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lumine-no-hikari · 4 months

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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #18

It is another day of trying to stay one step ahead of the beast. So today I made ranch spinach dip! Check it out:

Once more, this is a thing that I wish I could share with you, but alas, I cannot. I can maybe at least tell you how it's made, though. It's very easy. You just take 16 ounces of sour cream, 8 ounces of softened cream cheese, 20 ounces of thawed frozen spinach (you gotta squish the water out of it with a cheesecloth, though!), and between one and two packets of powdered ranch dressing mix, depending on your tastes. Mix it all up, and voila! Easy peasy delicious dip!

Normally, what you do with it is you put it into a hollowed-out round bread loaf (I really like to use marble rye for this), and then you cut the part that was pulled out into bite-sized pieces to dunk into the dip. But you can also dunk veggies in it, or crackers, or whatever else you like!

Today, I filled some mini bell peppers with the stuff, like this:

I also put it on some crackers!

If you can believe it, this recipe comes from my stepmother - the woman who my father has been with for the last… goodness, almost 30 years now.

As you might guess, this is yet another example of me trying to weave something beautiful from a terrible circumstance. If abuse is a trigger for you, you might want to avoid reading the rest of this paragraph. My stepmother hated my brother and I; the simplest explanation I can give you is that she was very insecure, and my brother and I were reminders that my father had a woman before her. She hated what we represented, and she felt powerless to do anything about the fact that we existed; we have laws here against killing your partner's children, you see, and my father wanted control of us in order to punish our mother for leaving him.

You may want to skip this paragraph, too, if abuse is a trigger for you. In any case, given her circumstances, she coped with her situation by making sure my brother and I knew how much she despised and resented us anytime we did anything. She'd beat us viciously for any small thing and scream vitriolic things at us while doing it - if she didn't like the expression on our face, or if we walked too loudly or too quickly in the house, or if we were sick and she was annoyed that we were coughing or sniffling, and so many more things… she could weave anything into an excuse, really. The fact of the matter was that she enjoyed hurting us very much - it made her feel powerful and in control.

This is yet another paragraph you might want to skip if abuse is a trigger for you. Anyway, as such, she went to great lengths to make sure my brother and I felt small and worthless, and she went to great lengths to hide what she was doing to us from other people - she started by systematically destroying our credibility by asserting to anyone who would listen, including our father, that we were bad children, so that if we tried to get help, we wouldn't be believed. Given that children occupy a very low position on the social ladder in my world, that part was very easy to do. She made sure not to be cruel to us when our father was home (but he had a job as a truck driver, that had him out from 5 in the morning until around 8 or 9 at night, so…), and when she was in public with people who weren't her own family members, she was careful to make it look like she loved and doted on us. The only thing she couldn't do was take away the bruises and welts she left on us. We wore long sleeves and long pants often and were instructed to say that we fell down, but not all of our injuries could be explained like that, so eventually people started getting suspicious.

We didn't have to live like this for too long - only 3 years or so. Or, well… rather… I didn't. My brother got sent back to live there. But I'll save that explanation for another time. For one thing, she couldn't put her hands on us anymore without going to jail. But for another thing… I might argue that some of the things she used to say to us were even more damaging. And there are no laws in my country against verbal abuse, as far as I know. And even if there were such laws, it's not as though they are enforceable at all, really. It is what it is. And the results were the results…

…Still, I don't hate her (not anymore, anyway; younger me was VERY bitter at the time, though…), and I can't say that she's a bad person; she very much isn't. If you're a person she loves, then she'll do just about anything for you - bear any burden, overcome any hardship. She is staunchly loyal to the people she considers her family - good or bad, right or wrong. She is very resilient in a lot of ways, and she has the kind of grit that most people can only dream of. And she's astoundingly intelligent. She's just lost, that's all. Her upbringing makes mine look laughably easy, and as far as I know, she never got a kind of help that works for her. The mechanics of the situation are simple enough to understand, and the results are… well… as expected.. and people are left to deal with the aftermath of things she's done before.

Sadly, none of her good qualities translate to me being able to be anywhere near her; as far as I've been made aware, her disgust and her resentment towards me and my brother are still very much alive and raging even after years of no contact. There's not a whole lot I can do about that; no amount of trying to be "good" can change her attitude towards us - believe me… I tried as hard as I could for a number of years. She refuses to unlearn old things and make room for new things, and there's nothing that I can do about that.

The only thing for it is to stay very far away. But I'll still be over here wishing upon her some kind of peace and contentment. And I'll still be grateful for the few good things I got from her. Like this spinach dip! Which I can now make for myself or for other people, because it's delicious! I know it's not exactly a consolation prize, but… it's still better than absolutely nothing, right? You get beaten down, but then you find reasons to get back up, no matter how small.

…I think I might have tired myself out a bit, trying to explain all this stuff. Still, I hope that you've found any of it relatable; maybe within all of that, you can find inspiration for your own resilience and your own resolve to remain gentle even in a world as weird as this. Like my stepmother was to me, I know that Hojo was cruel to you, and like how my father was with me, Lucrecia didn't step up to protect you, either because she underestimated the danger, didn't have the ability, or was too afraid to make a change. All the same, I hope that you can still find some way to weave beauty from all that, even if it's something simple like, "I've decided that this is how I will not be," or "I have incredible capacity to endure things," or even, "I can use these experiences to understand and try to help others who are going through similar things."

I'll leave it here. Please stay safe out there in the world. Please stay safe within your own mind. Please understand that for some people, your very existence is reason enough to get back up and fight on no matter how tired one is or how heavy things get or how much one's soul aches from the strain of it all. You are that reason for at least one person, anyway. Go ahead and guess how I know; I'll give you three tries! ;P I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

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lazyevaluationranch · 3 years

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On a post about the Blue Haired Girlfriend's quixotic citrus breeding experiments, @voidingintotheshout asked:

I mean, if you wanted a hearty citrus relative, why didn’t you just grow Osage Orange? They can grow as far north as Michigan which is surely further north than anyone could reasonably expect to grow a citrus tree. They’re not edible but then hearty orange isn’t either. Osage Orange are so cool and such a interesting historical plant from the Shelterbelt era of American agriculture. Apparently they do smell like citrus.

This is part three of three. Part one. Part two.

Now you've done it! It's time for A Very Brief (But Also Insufficiently Brief) History of Twentieth Century Hardy Citrus Cultivation! Growing citrus trees this far north is kind of nuts, it's true, but I promise you it is not even close to the weirdest things people have done to grow citrus in places where the citrus doesn't think it should grow.

A note: This post will written using the Swingle citrus taxonomy system, including things that are definitely wrong. The citrus taxonomic tree looks like that one box of orphaned computer cords I keep moving with me to new houses "in case I need them" except some sort of adorable five-dimensional kitten has entertained herself with them and some of the resulting knots are not technically possible in our space-time continuum.

The powers that be gave us citrus because nothing pleases them like seeing a geneticist cry.

1. The Migrant Trees

The Soviet Union wanted lemons for tea, and they wanted to be independent enough not to have to trade with anyone else to get them, which meant they wanted to grow their own citrus. That part of the world is not a great place to grow plants that die when the temperature goes below zero, but at the foundation of the Soviet Union, there were citrus orchards in the warmest part of Georgia, along the Black Sea. Specifically, there was about, uh, one and a half square kilometers of somewhat implausible citrus orchard.

Hang on, it is about to get way less plausible.

This is the great citrus migration: any tree that did well in one spot, they'd try planting its seeds a few kilometres further north, or a few kilometres further east. Prizes were offered for breeding hardier citrus. Slowly the orchards spread, but they were extremely weird orchards.

It's usually a few degrees warmer at ground level than up in the air, and there's way less wind. So as the trees grew, they were bent over and tied along the ground. Some of them had the central trunk run in a straight line along the ground, with branches spreading out from it like the leaves of a fern, like an espaliered tree on its side. Others were starfish shaped, with the central trunk looped down until it ended up next to the base, and the branches sprawling out along the ground from the centre like starfish legs. The citrus trees were no taller than particularly vigorous strawberry plants, but they survived the winters, and you could throw a blanket over them to help them stay warm.

None of that helped if the ground froze solid, so they needed Underground Citrus. You'd dig a ditch, down below the lowest area where the ground froze, and you'd plant flat Starfish Trees or Flat Frond Trees running along the bottom of it, too deep to freeze. In winter, you'd just cover the ditch with boards any time the temperature was expected to go below freezing - citrus would tolerate the lack of light, but not the cold. Mandarins (Citrus reticulata) seemed to do best, so that’s most of what was grown.

It is a nearly unimaginable amount of work to grow citrus this way, along the bottoms of pits and trenches. We are experimentally trying to grow a Soviet-developed mandarin breed of unknown parentage, Shirokolistvennyi, but we will definitely not be putting in that level of effort.

2. The Mixed Up Trees

There are a couple species of citrus that tolerate cold well, but taste awful. A lot of effort has gone into crossbreeding them with more edible citrus. The results are ... mixed.

The Ichang Papeda (Citrus cavaleriei) generally survives temperatures down to -18 degrees C. It is stoic and calm and has mastered emptiness. Unfortunately, it has mastered emptiness too well. The fruit smells like lemons, with maybe a hint of rose, but there's nothing to eat here. It has a rind and seeds. No juice, no flesh.

(Photo by Michael Saalfield)

The Ichang Papeda is the parent or grandparent to several delicious, extremely sour Asian citrus types. Yuzu/yuja smells like grapefruit and clean wet stones from the bottom of a fast-flowing stream. Sudachi smells like grapefruit and leaves with dew on them. (I haven't met kabosu or any other papeda hybrids personally, but they are numerous.) They're all too sour to eat plain, unless you really need to turn your face inside out for some reason, but make for excellent flavouring.

(We have a yuzu tree and a sudachi tree and they're surviving, but no fruit yet.)

Trifoliate orange (Poncirus trifoliata) can survive temperatures down to -30 degrees C. This may be partly because, uniquely amoung citrus, they can drop leaves in autumn or winter and regrow them in spring, like a maple tree. They also produce an internal antifreeze. They are angry, twisted, thorny little plants that yell swears when you walk past them. They make a great hedge. The fruit is furry, smells like flowers and pine trees and taste like burnt, bitter plastic. It may or may not be possible to breed the horrible taste completely out of trifoliate oranges without losing cold-hardiness, if it's due to their antifreeze chemicals. Here’s Stabby:

(Photo by Rob Hille)

Even the least terrible trifoliate crossbreeds are bitter enough to qualify as “acquired tastes.” There are recipes for trifoliate marmalade: put a dozen trifoliate oranges, a kilogram of sugar, and a kilogram of pebbles in a pot, cook until it gels, then sieve out the oranges and eat the pebbles.

We are growing a trifoliate orange / minneola orange hybrid. And, of course, someday our own trifoliate hybrids. The Blue Haired Girlfriend planted 200 trifoliate oranges a couple years ago. There are fewer now, but the survivors have lived through two winters of snow and frost, and they might have somehow gotten more stabby. We're going to breed them, to each other or to less angry fruit, try and make something new and good from them.

I've limited this post to twentieth century hardy citrus breeding, but I have to give a shoutout to somatic hybridization, a decidedly twenty first century technique, where you take a cell from each of two different plants, remove their cell walls, put them next to eachother, and shock them with electricity until they merge into a single cell whose nucleus contains all genes from both plants. Then the new plant is like, "Wow, I guess these are all my genes? It seems like a lot, haha, but it's not like somebody made me from dismembered body parts and electricity, that is not how science works. Anyway I guess it's time to do some plant stuff now."

3. The Mutant Trees

In the 1950s, people started using radiation to randomly scramble the genes of plants. You'd irradiate seeds enough to change the genes somehow, and then you'd have to plant them to see what had happened. Maybe it was people horrified by the atomic bomb desperately wanting to find some life-supporting use for atomic fission, maybe it was government-supported cold war "atom bombs are good actually, look how many we have, USSR" propaganda. Probably both.

This time period also saw serious plans for Orion, a spaceship with a huge metal plate for a butt, intended to be propelled by exploding atomic bombs under it, which I am not actually making up.

Thousands of people in Europe and the US signed up to receive seeds with random mutations in the mail, plant them, and report back on what they heck they grew into and if it had any useful weirdness. (The gamma radiation used to mutate the seeds did not make them radioactive themselves - the seeds were completely safe.) There were also more formal and carefully controlled university research programs in China, Japan, and the US, where plants where grown in a circular research garden with a coverable radiation source at the centre, so that the farther you got from the centre, the less radiation the plants got. Radiation breeding is less popular than it used to be, but Japan still has a very productive citrus radiation breeding program.

The most popular radiation-bred citrus is the "Rio Red" grapefruit and its offspring, which has a much deeper red than non-mutant red grapefruit.

There aren't many radiation-developed citrus breeds noted for cold-hardiness - with radiation you get whatever you get - but there are a few, and I want one just because I think they're neat, a monument to that lovely human vision that looks at terrible weapons and somehow sees glossy-leaved trees with bright fruit.

4. The Monster Trees

Citrus are usually grown via grafting. That is, you plant a seed from a fast-growing sturdy breed, you let it grow roots and all that, and then you cut the top off and replace it with a branch from a more delicious breed. The two citruses grow together, and you end up with a tree that's disease and cold resistant in the roots, below the graft, but makes tasty fruit above the graft.

Occasionally, this process goes Wrong.

The first recorded instance is the tree called Bizarria, discovered in 1640. Someone attempted to graft a sour orange branch onto a citron. But instead of a clean line between sour orange branches and citron roots, the graft was damaged somehow, and the two different species of cells got tangled and mixed through the whole tree. It has branches that produce citron fruit. It has branches that produce sour orange fruit. And it has branches that produce, uh ... these:

(Photo by Labrina)

Most graft chimeras are made accidentally, when the graft site is damaged. Trifoliate orange is often used as rootstock, so there are many reported chimeras involving trifoliate orange and a nicer fruit. The mixed-up cells can be arranged a lot of ways, but it's possible to have the outside layer of the tree be trifoliate orange, and the core of the tree be the other citrus (periclinal chimera). This means you could theoretically get a tree with frostproof trifoliate leaves and branches, but fruit that doesn’t taste like burnt plastic rolled in quinine.

This lucky monstrosity has, in fact, reportedly happened. Twice. There is the Prague Citsuma, discovered in a greenhouse in Prague and suspected to have been created by a Soviet breeding program. And then there is the Hormish, discovered in China and thought to have been made by frostbite messing up the clean lines of the graft. The Blue Haired Girlfriend has managed to track down budwood from the Prague Citsuma - I’m so excited! - so we'll see how the fierce thorny monster tree with a heart of gold, or at least heartwood of gold, does for us.

5. Conclusion

Humans have been trying to grow citrus trees where they don't belong for nearly two thousand years, at least since the Jewish Diaspora and people trying to grow holy etrog trees - trunks gnarled as barnacle stones and the whole tree scented like the best dream you can't remember - in Europe. Maybe longer.

The Blue Haired Girlfriend's citrus-breeding schemes aren't going to singlehandedly transform Canada into a net citrus exporter. But history shows us: it might be possible to have a little gleaming sweetness from the stony ground here, with the ravens and the fir trees and the auroras. A sweetness we made ourselves, that exists nowhere else.

Or maybe we'll just have a bunch of weird inedible fruit. I don't know, but it's worth finding out, worth weaving together leaf and thorn and stone and the light of our hands as the years unwind. Worth it to have a quixotic project we can expect to spend decades on together, hands and hearts. This is how home is made, sometimes, with a balcony full of angry thorny little trees that shout swears at passerby.

#part three of three #so much doesn't fit in this post #fog gardening #how lemons started the mafia #etrogs in diaspora #citropsis and the african citrus species #we are still discovering new citrus species in oceania!#who knows what we'll make?#and one day we'll scoop up hydrocarbons from Titan's stormy seas and polymerize them and make huge bubble greenhouses filled with citrus #small children will fling squishy citrus at their siblings by the coiled light of Jupiter #which is as it should be #thank you voidingintotheshout for an excuse for all sorts of ranting

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fortuositywritings · 3 years

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I Said No (Wanda x R): Pt 9

Summary: You get your ass handed to you. You have fun times with Wanda only for a rude awakening.

Warnings: a lot of cursing, alcohol

If anyone asks her, Laura loves her cousin. She loves you. She really, really does. But sometimes you were a bit of a pain or rather a handful and everyone knows pregnant women should not be carrying too much. So, she can’t help but be glad that there are other people here to help lighten the load.

Is it wrong that lightening the load includes allowing her husband’s ex-assassin of a best friend to basically manhandle you, said cousin she claims to love so much, at 6am in the morning? It may be a little worrisome, yes. But what is really wrong here is how she is sitting front and center, watching it all happen in front of her a little too amusedly.

Could you really blame her though? She’s pregnant. She knows she wouldn’t be able to stand watching you get thrown around, especially on her swollen feet.

It seems everyone woke up early to watch Nat “teach you self-defense”. You’ve been outside for an hour now and no one has moved from their seats. Oh, no that’s a lie. Clint did go inside once, only for him to come right back offering everyone some lemonade. Even the critters are there sitting criss cross next to Pietro on the grass sipping on their lemonades.

“So when does the self-defense part start?” you ask, out of breath. You weren’t doing anything, but falling on your ass repeatedly sure makes one sweat.

“When you start defending yourself,” Nat quips. You respond with a baffled, “What?!”

“Arms up, Y/N!” you hear your cousin shout as you prepare yourself to get thrown again.

“Look, if you are still mad about the Yelena Incident, I’m sure there could have been another less violent way to get your frustrations out.” Nat rolls her eyes and in what feels like a second, there are legs wrapped around your head in not a sexy way and you are flipped onto the ground.

“OH!!!” Everyone yells, as you feel the wind knock out of you. You hear the kids shouting, “Do it again!”

“No, don’t do it again,” you wheeze out. You feel someone rush to your side.

“Are you okay?” Wanda helps you sit up. An angel, that woman. She turns to glare at Nat. “Did you really have to do that?”

“Relax, she’s fine.” Nat answers, not bothered in any way. Either she’s blind or she’s delusional thinking you took her go-to take-down-the-bad-guy move like a simple scratch on the knee. Wanda gets visibly upset by Nat’s careless demeanor, little wisps of red magic trickling from her hand. She moves to confront Natasha and you think it might be you that is delusional when you stop Wanda, red wisps tickling your hand, and say, “It’s okay. I’m good.”

“See!” Nat throws her hands up.

“You should have put your arms up,” your cousin says off to the side. You narrow your eyes at her after Wanda helps you up. “Yes, Laura. Thank you so much. That would have really saved me from her spinny-upsidedown-flippity-whateverthefuck that was.”

Sam and Clint snicker beside your cousin at your description of Nat’s signature move. She gives you the watch-your-language look that you completely ignore. “Why don’t you come and show me how that was meant to help?”

“Can’t. Pregnant. Sorry,” your cousin motions to her belly. You shake your head, “Excuses, excuses.”

“I do know some self-defense though and I think it is really important to learn so I’m rooting for you on the side lines,” Laura adds. Not believing a word she said, you ask, “And who taught you self-defense? ‘Cause I know for a fact it wasn’t Nat. You wouldn’t be cruel enough to put me through the same torture.”

“I taught her. She’s a pretty decent shot too,” Clint admits proudly.

“No way. You can shoot?” Sam looks at Laura as skeptical as you do. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Hun, bring out your gear,” your cousin says, getting everyone excited. Pietro and Sam help her stand and move over to get a clear shot of where Clint put up a target. Everyone stands aside and watches in anticipation when Clint hands his wife a bow and an arrow. She nocks the arrow back, aims, shoots, and nearly hits the bullseye, leaving everyone’s mouth agape.

“Okay, impressive,” Sam says.

“No way. You made that look way too easy. Let me try,” you say, wanting to give it a go, and a go you give alright, the arrow ricocheting off a tree (not even the tree that had the target on it) and heading towards Peter’s face. Luckily his reflexes or what he’s described as some kind of tingle kicks in and he catches the arrow on time.

You let out a sigh of relief seeing that you have not accidentally killed someone. You didn’t want to be a murderer let alone be known as the asshole that killed Spiderman by accident. You flood Peter’s ears with apologies and though he says it’s all good, you still feel really bad and ask Wanda if she could help you bake him some cookies or something later.

Everyone heads inside after that near death experience. Everyone but you and Nat who says, “Playtime’s over. Let’s do this for real now.”

“Wait, that wasn’t it?!”

Another two hours go by. Wanda wonders why you haven’t barged in the room yet to “bother” her. You should have been done undergoing Nat’s painful lesson by now. Finding it odd that you have yet to make an appearance, Wanda sets out to find you. She sees Natasha sitting at the kitchen table. When she asks her about your whereabouts and gets a “Who knows” as a response, she knows something is up. Nat always knows, so Wanda presses, “What did she say and where did you leave her?”

Natasha eventually tells her where you are. Wanda finds you outside, hosing yourself off. You are covered in mud, which Wanda can only assume was Nat’s doing. “Why did you have to antagonize her?”

You look up to see Wanda staring at you unimpressed, arms crossed and all. You defend, “You have to admit, had you the opportunity, you would have done the same.”

“You mean tell her you’ve now had two Romanov’s thighs around your head and then ask where her mom was because you wanted to ‘complete the set’,” Wanda says, uncrossing her arms to do air quotes.

“Come on, let me have this, Wanda. You should have seen it! It was glorious. The set up, the delivery, the punch,” you throw your arms in the air dramatically, hose in hand splashing water everywhere. Your body aches and you yelp, “Ow.”

Wanda only shakes her head at you. You pout and turn the hose off. “I’ve never met her mom, but she probably would’ve at least chuckled appreciating a good line. I know Yelena for sure would’ve tried not to giggle before kicking my ass as well.”

Wanda doesn’t mean to let out the grunt of annoyance at the mention of this Yelena, but it happens. Luckily, you either don’t hear it or ignore it as you pass by her, stopping to take off your shoes by the door. Before heading inside, you turn to her and coyly ask, “Do you think you could help me wash some of the mud away upstairs? I don’t think I can reach some parts on my own.”

It doesn’t take a psychic to know Wanda helping you scrub your back is not what you actually have in mind. She tries her best not to stutter as she says, “Of course, what are friends for?”

You head up to the shower first. Wanda waits downstairs two minutes before following up, thinking it was enough time for it not to seem suspicious. Clint, who is in the laundry room, though back turned the whole time, still notices and pipes up right as Wanda takes the first step up.

“Just keep in mind the acoustics of the bathroom,” he warns Wanda. Though he doesn’t see her, based on the clumsy rushed steps after, he knows she was blushing the whole way upstairs.

Having Wanda in the shower, double entendre intended, proves to be a good thing because it turns out you do in fact need help scrubbing some of the mud that somehow made it down your back. Wanda gets on your case again about agitating Nat but it’s hard to really focus on what she’s saying when her hands are all over you, even if she is just scrubbing you down.

An hour later, Laura and Nat sit at the kitchen table and try not to laugh at you struggling with the measuring cups. Sam holds no reservations in laughing in your face. “How does a grown ass woman not know how to measure some flour?”

Wanda makes a face and he corrects himself, “I hear how that sounded. Let me rephrase. How does a grown ass adult who has had to pass middle school to get into college not know how to measure some flour?”

“Unnecessary jibe at my education aside, Sam, I appreciate you rephrasing that. Back to the matter at hand, I’d like to see you try, bitch,” you challenge him, handing over all the measuring kitchen equipment.

“Gladly.” He takes your place, leaving you to go stand beside Wanda. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

You all watch him as he looks over the recipe. You think he is just bluffing about his skills, making a grand show of it all. That is until he turns back to Wanda to ask, “Two batches, right?” Then at her nod, he goes into British Bake Off mode or whatever you would call x game mode for baking.

Seeing him confidently measuring ingredient after ingredient, you lean over to Wanda and ask under your breath, “Is he doing it right?”

“Yes, he is.”

“Damn it,” you huff out. Sam overhears and chuckles, his ego inflating by the minute. You pout at Sam having taken over what was meant to be a fun activity for you and Wanda to do, but he seems like he is really enjoying showing off so you can’t be too mad. Wanda finds your pout too cute and can’t help but press a quick kiss to your lips, surprising you both. You are both blushing and she tries to play it off cool. “You did say whenever I wanted.”

“I did say that, yes,” you recall. She smiles and then gives you another chaste kiss, more confidently this time, before heading over to Sam. “Alright, leave Y/N to do something, show off.”

Meanwhile, you are trying to calm your racing heart at her kissing you so openly, which is when you realize you have an audience. You’re afraid to see if Laura and Nat saw. You turn around slowly. They clearly did, your cousin’s raised eyebrow indicating so. It makes you blush harder, so you turn back around and go to see what you can do.

Wanda and Sam give you the job of rolling the cookie dough into little balls after moving you away from setting the oven heat because you tried to turn up the heat by double in order to “bake the cookies faster”. They explain why you couldn’t do that.

“Yeah, I knew that,” you say, as you lower the temperature back down. “I was just testing you guys.”

No one believes you but they don’t say anything. Nat and your cousin watch with interest as Wanda and Sam pull your hand full of raw dough away from your mouth when you try to taste it. You lie and say you were testing them again.

Peter and Pietro trail into the kitchen at the smell of the cookies baking. Sam takes them out once they are ready. Pietro tries to grab a cookie first, but you are faster, smacking his hand away. “Peter gets the first cookie. They were meant to be for him.”

Peter, who has been lingering shyly behind Pietro, perks up. He asks you, “Why?”

“For nearly killing you. Sorry about that. Sam technically did nearly everything, which might have been for the best given my lack of skills in the kitchen. But it’s the thought, right?” you ramble.

“You didn’t have to, but thank you. I won’t say no to cookies. They all look good. Let’s just all dig in,” Peter says, seeing Pietro’s grumbly face. Pietro cheers up at that and mutters, “Finally.”

Laura sees you and the guys reaching for a cookie and warns, “Careful, they’re hot,” but the cookies are already in your mouths.

“Fuck!” “Shit!” “H-h-hot!” All three of you yell but none of you spit the cookies out. Instead, you all choose to look ridiculous cooling the cookies with your mouths open. Sam looks at you three like the dumbasses you are. Your cousin and Nat look unfazed and Wanda is practically doubled over laughing so hard that you can’t even hear it because she’s having trouble breathing.

“Get out of my kitchen. Come back when you have proof y’all graduated elementary school.” Sam kicks you out of the kitchen, Pietro grabbing some cookies before being shooed away. You head outside and decide to play some basketball. Cooper and Lila come and join you and a few minutes later so does Wanda.

You pause, holding the ball in your hands as Wanda walks up to you.

“What? Did you finish your two pages of reading for the day that quickly or did you just miss me?” you tease her. She gives you a sarcastic smile before snatching the ball away. “Two chapters actually.” She then goes to line up her shot. She shoots and scores, turning back to you with a smug smile at which you shake your head.

“Hey, you can’t walk with the ball. That doesn’t count!” Pietro whines. You fight for her point, telling him to just let her have it, which he does not let go without pointing out, “Oh, so when I do it, it’s not a point, but when Lila and Wanda do it, it counts? How is that fair?”

“Because she’s six and she’s cute, Pietro. That’s why it counts,” you reply.

“Okay, but what about my sister?”

“I just explained. Lila is six and Wanda is cute. Come on, man. Keep up.” Wanda overhears and blushes hard. Pietro laughs at his sister, embarrassing her further. You take the ball away from his hands while he is distracted and then pass it to Lila.

You do way better this game than the last time you played. You still lost but progress.

The next morning feels like a rinse and repeat. Nat wakes you up, you go for the morning hike, you complain the whole time. Breakfast is a different story. Laura’s lower back has been aching and she’s been having contractions, one of which comes while you’re eating, scaring most of you. You get straight to your feet asking where the baby bag is and Pietro rushes to find the keys saying, “I’ll start the car!”

Peter pipes, “I think someone else should drive.”

“Everyone calm down. I don’t need to go anywhere. The baby’s not coming yet,” your cousin reassures everyone, specifically her husband and Nat who are at her side. Everyone lets out a breath of relief. You ask where the baby bag is anyway to know when the time does come. She says there isn’t one and then Nat is on Clint and your heads about not being prepared.

“I got here after you did,” you defend yourself. She then looks over to Clint who says, “I’ve been saving the world.”

“Always an excuse with you two,” Nat chides.

And so the afternoon finds Clint, Sam, and Nat going to buy the essentials, while the rest of you help clean up around the house. Wanda is left to supervise Lila and Cooper clean their rooms, Peter is in charge of vacuuming upstairs, Pietro is given dish washing duty, and you are given the broom and mop.

Your cousin relaxes on the couch in the meantime. You yell up the stairs that you will be mopping now, warning everyone to watch their step. You repeat the same to your cousin who sarcastically says, “I think the whole town heard you, Y/N.”

“Well, excuse me for caring for everyone’s well being,” you retort, continuing your chores. You’re nearly finished. You just need Pietro to be done in the kitchen so you can mop there. You sit and wait in Clint and Laura’s little home office.

You swivel around in the chair, looking around curiously until something calls your attention, that something being the laminator. You try to think of something fun to laminate but think of nothing interesting. Then you remember something and rush upstairs to get it.

You pass Peter who asks if he can go downstairs now having finished vacuuming. You say yes but tell him not to go into the kitchen yet. You grab what you are looking for in your bag and head back downstairs to laminate it. Before you do, you write a message on the back.

Dear Scarlet Wizard, please stop hurting the books. Thank you. Y/N :)

Then you laminate the strip. You look over your finished product proudly before tucking it into your back pocket. You’re about to head out of the office when Pietro’s voice crescendos, heeding you of his presence before he appears. “Just ask her, Wanda. She’s seen you in them. I don’t know why you are embarrassed.”

That piques your interest. Pietro finally appears, with Wanda lingering behind him, looking like she’d much rather be anywhere else. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Pietro looks back at Wanda expectantly, but when she doesn’t say anything, he explains for her. “She needs help washing her underpants.”

“Pietro!” Wanda shouts, her face giving a new meaning to her superhero name with how red it turns. She moves forward, spluttering, “I asked Laura if I could wash some of my clothes. She said yes, but I don’t know how to work this machine and I didn’t want to make her get up to show me, and Pietro told me to ask you, so…”

She trails off shyly, wanting to bury herself in the nearest ditch right after she murders her brother for putting her in this position. Wanda hadn’t prepared to stay so long and hadn’t brought extra clothes. Now she regrets not being like Peter who overprepares. She wonders how her brother hasn’t run out of clean underwear but she thinks it’s better not to ask, predicting she won’t like whatever the answer is; Pietro is not someone who is over prepared either.

“That’s it?” you ask, not seeing what the big deal was, but you can see that Wanda is still looking rather awkward about it, so you don’t question it too much. Rather you comment, “I was actually wondering if you all just overpack for breaks. I mean I know Nat has extra clothes here in the house but I was wondering about the rest of you.”

“Peter is the only one who does the most,” Pietro says.

“Hey, I heard that!” Peter yells coming in to join the three of you. You turn to Pietro and ask, “Then what do you do?”

“He used the same underwear after he showered,” Peter explains. You and Wanda make a face of disgust and Pietro makes one of irritation. Peter runs off upstairs when Pietro starts chasing him, “Don’t tell her that!”

“I shouldn’t have asked,” you tell Wanda, who agrees with you. Then you motion for her to follow you into the little laundry room. You show her how to work the machine. She throws her clothes in and follows your instructions. Once the machine gets going, you decide to tease her now that you are alone. “It’s just underwear, Wanda. Pietro was right. No need to be shy about it when I’ve seen it both on and off you.”

She starts blushing again. She hides behind her hands and groans, “Ugh, I should have asked Laura.”

You continue on anyway, “In fact, I remember one instance where you were enjoying when I tugged them o-” You were cut off short by Wanda’s hands covering your mouth. “Stop talking.”

Your laughter is muffled but it’s there nonetheless, finding Wanda’s coyness endearing. She defends herself, recalling a story about you, “You are one to talk, Miss Purple Boxer-Briefs.”

You grab hold of her wrists, removing her hands from your mouth in order to speak. “Hey, that’s different.” You walk forwards, making Wanda take steps back until her back is against the wall. “I was not planning for anyone to see me in those. I was just taking one for the team, thinking the house was getting robbed.”

“Mhmm, sure.” Wanda giggles.This time it’s you saying, “Oh, be quiet, Maximoff.”

“Make me, L/N.”

You sputter in surprise, eyes widening at her words. Hers stare right into yours, challenging you to make a move. And she has the audacity to have a smirk on her face as if she wasn’t madly blushing about dirty underwear a few minutes ago. Where the hell did that girl go?

“Are you just going to stand there and look at me a-”

You surge forward and kiss her hard. Wanda can’t help but smile at getting her way, making it a little hard to kiss her. So you take the moment to break it and ask, “Hey, who told you my last name?”

“The same asshole that gave you this.” One of her hands between you moves up to caress your bruised cheek. “Does it still hurt?”

She prods at it, making you flinch back. “Ow, only when you poke at it.”

“Sorry,” she apologizes, pulling her hand away from your cheek. Her bashful face makes you chuckle. You pull yourself together to ask her a question. “Okay, serious question,” you start, and it’s too cute how Wanda pays close attention to what you say next. You’d think she’d know better by now. “Does it make me look badass?”

“Y/N,” she more or less groans your name in annoyance as she gently shoves you. You’re a little off balance but you quickly grasp her elbows to pull back into her space. “I’m serious. ‘Cause if I look stupid, I’m pretty sure I could will my cells to work overtime to heal it faster or something.”

She laughs at you, muttering, “You are an idiot,” and pecking your lips between each word. You hear giggling, only this laughter isn’t coming from the beautiful woman in front of you. No, this giggling you know too well comes from a certain little critter who you now see has potential to go into her father’s line of work with how quiet she can creep up on someone.

Wanda actually shoves you off this time, going to stand behind you to put a physical barrier between her and the intruding child. You clear your throat, smiling at Lila. “Hey, Lila. Did you need something?”

“Why were you kissing Wanda? Is she your girlfriend? Are you going to have a baby now?” She shoots one question after question rapidly as if she didn’t ask them all at once she would forget them. The first two are valid questions but the last throws you off so far you don’t know where you are. It throws Wanda too, so much so she’s basically choking behind you.

“Woah, okay. Umm, I was kissing Wanda because I think she is very pretty and nice and that’s just a way you can show someone that you think that about them, with their permission of course,” you rush in to add about consent. Your niece and nephews will grow up learning to be a decent human being. You continue on to her other questions. “But no, Wanda is not my girlfriend and we are not having a baby?”

Your last answer comes out more as a question, mostly due to your confusion as to where she got that idea. Wanda comes out from her hiding space to stand by you. From your peripheral vision, she looks amused at seeing you struggle to answer the six year old’s questions. Looking at your niece, she seems to be as confused as you, but you learn it’s due to something else. “Why isn’t she your girlfriend? Did you ask her?”

You hesitate to answer, really not knowing where to start. Wanda is less amused and more interested now, crossing her arms over her chest, creating a barrier between her heart and your next words that she thinks will inevitably hurt to hear. Lila doesn’t give you the chance, however, continuing to her next question that makes you scoff. “Does she think you’re ugly?”

“I’d hope not.” You turn to look at Wanda, who holds a hand over her mouth trying to cover her giggles.

“Oh, maybe she doesn’t think you’re funny, like Aunt Nat says. Maybe she doesn’t get your jokes.” Lila tries to help, but little to her knowledge, it just makes you want to dig your own grave, especially when you can see Wanda is nearly losing it trying to hold in her laughter.

“Yep, you know you might be right. That must be it,” you agree to appease her. She grins at you, proud of herself for finding an answer to her question, which reminds you, “Why did you think we were having a baby?”

“Because that’s how babies are made,” she says, without a doubt in her mind, which reasonably has you questioning, “Who told you that, critter? Because they definitely lied.”

“Mommy said so,” she says almost defiantly as if what her mom says must be the truth and who were you to make her start questioning her mother now at six years old. You are also not ready to have that conversation, the conversation between you and your cousin where she yells at you for taking over the birds and bees speech that she probably had meticulously planned for a specific time in her children’s lives.

“Aaaand, your mom’s right. Yep. Wanda is basically pregnant now,” you say without thinking. Lila’s eyes go full moon round in excitement as squeals in glee. She practically runs out of the laundry room probably to tell god knows who about the news. Wanda gasps in disbelief beside you, smacking your arm. “Why did you say that?”

“Well, what did you want me to do? Be honest with the child?” you say as if honesty would be the worst thing to bring into that conversation.

“Yes, exactly that,” Wanda says plainly.

“Okay, well unless you want to deal with Nat on your ass about us unnecessarily stressing my pregnant cousin out with talks about baby making with her six year old, for the next however long Lila remembers, you are pregnant with my child.”

Wanda hangs her head in defeat after you put that image of an angry Nat in her head. There are worse things than being fake pregnant with your crush’s baby. She sighs, “You’re paying child support for this kid.”

You smile at her quip, retaliating with, “Not without a paternity test!” She shoves you as you both exit the laundry room and you chant, “Maury! Maury!”

“We are not naming the baby Maury,” she says and runs into you when you stop abruptly to turn around and question her, “Wanda, do you not know who Maury is?”

When she shakes her head no in confusion, you grab her hand in excitement, “Oh, my god, let me teach you a little bit about American culture,” and drag her with you to watch some episodes of the show.

You only get to watch one with her, leaving her with your cousin to watch more as you go back into the kitchen to finish moping as your cousin so kindly (not so kindly) reminded you to do. Those baby hormones really were kicking in.

You return to see Pietro and Wanda eating up the show. “I knew it! I knew he would be the father,” Pietro yells excitedly from where he is on the floor looking back at his sister. “Did I not guess right?” She nods and he turns back to the television to watch the guy run off the stage as the cameraman chases after him.

Laura can’t stop yawning so you suggest she go take a nap. You help her up to her room and tell her to rest up, that you had everything under control. She teases as you shut the door, “Just don’t go around impregnating more women while I’m asleep.”

When you go back downstairs, Sam, Nat, and Clint are making their way through the front door with everything they bought. Sam and Clint set the box with the crib assembly in the middle of the living room. Nat carries some bags and says there are more bags in the car. You head outside throwing an “amateur” towards Nat who rolls her eyes knowing you are referring to your silly one trip from the car to the house rule.

The rest of the evening goes to arranging the hospital bag and getting all the baby things in order. Nat and Wanda assemble the crib, Nat insisting she do it after Pietro rushes to assemble it with a “tada!” only for it to fall apart when Nat throws a pillow onto it. Wanda is just excited to do it and Nat trusts her to follow instructions unlike her brother.

Everyone just watches, but Lila who tries to help handing the women whatever they need. As most excited six year olds do, she talks everyone’s ears off about the things she is going to do when her baby brother comes. “Oh! And he can have playdates with Y/N and Wanda’s baby. We can have tea parties every summer. Maybe not tea, cause tea isn’t very tasty and it’s too hot for that. Maybe we can have ice tea instead. What do you think, Wanda?”

Everyone in the room looks confused; most of the confused gazes are looking to you for an explanation and before anyone could say anything, you mouth “Don’t ask” while shaking your head. Wanda indulges Lila, though she blushes through it trying to look unfazed, “Yes, ice tea is nice. Or maybe lemonade. Can you pass me that small piece over there?”

It comes out perfectly, much to Pietro’s chagrin. Now the problem no one thought about- how to get it upstairs into the room. Sam and Clint carry it up the stairs trying to follow Nat’s instructions, attempting to turn it at the right angle to get it up the second flight of stairs. They clearly do not understand what Nat’s aim is here, Nat’s frustration growing by the second. Wanda gets a sense of deja vu but she can’t recall where she has seen this, until you laugh and as if reading her mind fill in the blank yelling, “Pivot!”

Satisfied with figuring out where the scene is from and not wanting to see Nat explode, Wanda uses her magic to take hold of the crib and brings Nat’s vision to life as she rotates the crib at the correct angle. The red mist lifts it the rest of the way upstairs.

“Thank you, Wanda. It seems you’re the only competent person here,” Nat huffs. She turns to the two men on the stairs, “Well, don’t just stand there, expecting Maximoff to do everything. The crib goes in the room with Laura.”

She storms up the steps shepherding Clint and Sam the rest of the way. You hear the laundry machine beeping, so you go give that your attention with Wanda on your tail. After her clothes begin to spin in the dryer, you stop her from getting any further than the kitchen remembering to give her your beautiful creation.

“Wait, Wanda, before I forget. I have something for you.” You pull the photo strip turned bookmark out of your pocket and hand it to her. She takes her time looking over the pictures on the strip from the time at the arcade, especially the third in which you are kissing her cheek. You gesture for her to look at the back and she rolls her eyes upon reading your message. Wanda appreciates the gesture anyways.

“You made me this?” Wanda asks, surprised.

You nod, “Made or more so laminated it for you. Or rather for future me who will be happy to know she saved another book from you dog earring the ends of its pages.”

You chuckle when she pushes you in jest. “Hey! That is a lot of judgement coming from someone who does not read.”

“I don’t have to be an avid book reader to know book etiquette,” you declared.

“Book etiquette?” She raises an eyebrow up in question.

“Yes, there are rules to how you treat books, same as there are rules to everything,” you answered. “Like returning a borrowed book in the same condition.”

“And one of the rules happens to be not to bend the corner of the pages?” she asks, disbelieving.

“Hey, I’m just trying to do you a favor here. Wouldn’t want you to get bullied in book club or whatever. But if you are just going to disregard the rule and not use the bookmark,” you reply, reaching for the bookmark, “I can just take it back.”

“No,” she objects immediately, pressing the photostrip against her chest. She pouts, “You already gave it to me. You can’t take it back.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you assured her, laughing at her childish antics. Wanda looks at it once more, smiling, and then gives you a kiss on the cheek. With rosy cheeks adorning her face, she thanks you. “I love it, really.”

Red really is the color for her, you think. That is until you find green giving red a run for its money the next evening.

Sam drove you, Wanda, and Pietro to one of the two bars in town in Nat’s car. It took about half an hour of begging from Sam’s part for Nat to give up her keys, but not without threatening his life if he were to even scratch her car. You couldn’t blame her, it’s a pretty nice car.

You and the three Avengers walk into the bar. It sounds like the start to a joke and it almost feels like it could be with the way the night starts. It’s a Friday night so there is a crowd but it’s not too bad. You’re still standing around the front entrance and you wonder why no one has made the move to go further into the establishment. Turning to the other three, you notice their eyes sweeping the place. You quickly realize what they are doing.

“Would you all relax? We are here to have fun. No need to act like you’re on a mission,” you remind them. Sam scoffs, “Uh, speak for yourself. This man is on the hunt for some sugar.” The rest of you three roll your eyes at him as he keeps scouting the area. His eyes befall on the pretty bartender. “And spotted. First round is on me.”

Sam walks up to the bar with swagger to his step. The three of you look for a place to sit. Pietro notices a booth open up and using a little enhanced speed, swoops into the booth, calling you and Wanda over. You talk amongst yourselves while Sam chats up the bartender. He comes over with the drinks smiling to himself. Wanda teases him, “Look at you all smiley. Did you get her phone number?”

“I’m still working on it, but I know it’s working,” he says confidently. “So hurry up and finish your drinks so I can go up and talk some more.”

He rushes you and chugs his drink in one go. You hate to be his buzzkill but someone has to remind him, “I hope you enjoyed that drink, Sam ‘cause that was your one and only for tonight. Or did you forget you drove us here?”

His face scrunches up and groans, “Noooo. Can’t Pietro drive? His metabolism works fast. It’s nearly impossible to get him drunk.”

“Did you forget what car we brought? The moves Nat pulled on me hurt like a bitch, and that was just her teaching me self defense. I can’t imagine what she would do if she finds out we let Speed Racer drive back.” You quickly turn to said twin, “No offense, Pietro.”

“You are all just a bunch of babies,” he responds, sipping from his drink.

“Ugh, fine,” Sam concedes. “Maybe, I can work with this. I’ll be back. Same thing for everyone?”

After getting an affirmative, Sam is back at it. The three of you watch him flirt with the woman behind the bar. Sam points your group out to her and she smiles at you three while your group acknowledges her with awkward waves.

A car alarm pulls everyone’s attention away; it’s Nat’s car. The three of you see Sam make a show of looking for the keys in his pockets when it’s clear to the group that he’s been holding them the entire time. That smooth bastard. The woman looks impressed.

Soon she serves up your drinks, Sam bringing them to the table, with a cocky smirk on his face. You, Pietro, and Wanda shake your heads at him his whole way back. “We see what you did there,” Wanda says. “That was very sneaky.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Sam denies. He takes a sip of his water as the rest of you grab your second drink. Pietro asks, “Very sad, using someone else’s things to boast. Tsk tsk tsk.”

“Keep it down. She doesn’t have to know that. Anyway, that car is a guarantee she’ll be looking this way,” Sam assures and he isn’t wrong. Wanda finds the bartender looking back at your group but much to her discontentment, she is zeroing in not on Sam but you. You don’t notice this happening.

You are too focused telling some funny story Wanda isn’t really listening to, as she finishes her drink in one go. Pietro catches this from the corner of his eye, frowning at what has his sister looking upset. Ever so observant, he watches Wanda look at the bartender who seems to be staring at you and then shuffle closer to your side.

His frown disappears, no longer worried but more so amused. He has always found it funny when his sister gets jealous. He’s seen it several times to know the signs- the furrow of her brow, the biting of her lip, and had it been a few years ago, there would be a dramatic exit. A dramatic exit would be overkill here so he guesses she’s substituted it for possessiveness.

You welcome Wanda’s warmth as she sits closer to you. Sam and Pietro make their comments and jokes about the story you just finished telling. You sip on your drink, nearly choking when Wanda’s hand makes a surprise appearance on your thigh a little too high to be innocent. You try to ignore it and listen to Sam as he starts a story, but it gets a little difficult when she begins to move it.

Sam asks you a question and as focused as you are when trying to answer, Wanda’s wandering hand makes you stutter a few times in your response. You chug the rest of your drink and Wanda takes that as a sign to get the next round of drinks.

“I’ve got the drinks this time,” she declares, pressing a kiss on your cheek before getting up and heading over to the bar. The little break you have away from her feels a bit of a relief. You were getting worked up under her touch and in public no less. You don’t know what’s got Wanda in this kind of mood suddenly, not that you would usually mind it unless it’s the alcohol.

That’s the only real outlier here. If it is the alcohol, you’ll have to slow her roll down if only two drinks have her so handsy. You have to come up with a plan soon if that’s the case, because Wanda comes back, bartender behind her carrying a tray with shots.

Wanda takes her seat next to you as Sam’s point of interest for the night sets the shots in the middle of the table. Your eyes widen, counting the number of shots that end up on the table.

“Damn, how much do they pay you?” you ask incredulously, knowing how pricey a single shot can be.

“And are they hiring?” the bartender jokes. Everyone but Wanda laughs. “Are we celebrating something tonight or just having a night out?” She asks the table but ends the question looking at you for the answer.

“A little bit of both. They’re going home soon, so,” you explain. You have all her attention now, her body turning to face you. “Oh, so you’re from here. I haven’t seen you around?”

Wanda slowly grows irritated, feeling the woman talking is overstaying her welcome at your table. She reaches for a shot, throwing it back, trying not to make a face as the liquid burns her throat.

You frown at Wanda’s actions. Pietro snorts and Wanda throws him a glare. The bartender is still waiting for your response so you answer, “I don’t actually live here. I stay with my cousin during my breaks from school.”

“What school do you go to?”

Wanda clears her throat, annoyed, “Don’t you have to go back to the bar? We wouldn’t want to get you in trouble.”

Sam speaks up, “There are two other people back there. I’m sure they’ve got Bethany covered.” So that’s the name of the woman unknowingly grinding Wanda’s gears. Wanda is disappointed to see Sam is correct.

She drinks another shot and the moment Pietro has been waiting for arrives when she gets up suddenly claiming she has to go to the restroom. Bethany tries to help and point them out to her, but Wanda quickly cuts in with, “Thank you, Bethany, but I think I can find my way to the restroom just fine.” And then she stomps off.

Finding her behavior odd, you decide it best to go follow her and make sure she’s okay. After answering Bethany’s last question, you excuse yourself from the table and head in the direction Wanda left. The restrooms are easy to find, a glaringly obvious sign pointing to them.

Wanda splashes water on her face at the sink, trying to cool herself down. She can’t help the thoughts running through her head, thinking that Bethany was probably sitting in Wanda’s place by your side, grabbing your arm as she laughs at something you say. She knows these thoughts stem from jealousy and there is no need to tell her that she doesn’t have the right to be jealous when you agreed to be friends.

If Wanda wasn’t irked enough, there are no paper towels to dry her face with. Now she’ll return to the table with a wet shirt. “Stupid bar can’t refill the dispenser,” she mutters, pushing the door open with the side of her body, her hands preoccupied lifting the bottom of her shirt enough to pat her face dry with it.

She bumps into somebody outside the restroom doors. She lifts her face from her hands to apologize only to be met by the person who has got her acting this moody and you aren’t looking at her face. Your eyes are busy appreciating Wanda’s exposed tummy. Wanda flushes as she drops her shirt, making you redirect your eyes. Embarrassed at being caught, you clear your throat. “Sorry,” you apologize. “I actually came to check on you.”

“Why? I was only gone for 2 minutes,” she asked, though she was happy to note that you were here waiting for her outside the restroom instead of entertaining the bartender sitting at your group’s table.

“You left kind of abruptly. I just wanted to make sure you were okay and not like throwing up,” you reason. You pull Wanda away from standing in front of the door to the restroom when someone tries to get through.

Wanda chuckles, continuing on with your conversation. “Do you think I am a lightweight or what?”

“Well I hope not. You did just buy a bunch of shots and it would be a damn shame to let them go to waste,” you remind her. She smirks at you. “You have some catching up to do.”

“Lead the way.” You step aside motioning for her to do just so. Wanda shakes her head, but smiles nevertheless, taking your hand and tugging you behind her. Wanda is happy not to see Bethany at your table but back behind the bar when you both take your previous seats.

“There they are!” Pietro shouts excitedly, waving his hand in the air before smacking it back down on the table rather clumsily with an “Ah”. Tipsy Pietro was rather adorable. How did he get like this anyway? Looking back at the table, you find your answer.

“Holy shit, dude! Did you drink all of these yourself?” You’re worried he’d have to get his stomach pumped. He reads the expression on your face and reassures you. “It’s the only way I can get, umm, Wanda?” He turns to ask his sister something you don’t understand, asking in Sokovian. She answers, “Tipsy.”

“Yes! Tipsy. But I left you uh,” he counts the remaining shot cups that still have liquor in them, “four. Perfect. Two for each of you. Now hurry, I want to play billbards, bill-billboards. Pool,” he finally decides. He pushes two shots towards you and the other two towards Wanda.

“Oh, no. Y/N has to catch up.” Wanda pushes one of her drinks to yours, lining them all up neatly. You shake your head at a smirking Wanda. You sigh, “You’re really going to do this to me, huh?”

“Yup,” she affirmed. Then Sam got the three of them to chant your name, making others in the bar look your group’s way. Not wanting people staring, you hush them, “Okay, okay. Geez. I can see why Clint hates that.” Then you drink all three, one right after another. You do make a face. “Oof.”

Wanda drinks hers and then the four of you wait by the pool tables for one to open up. You spend the next hour laughing with Sam and Wanda at a clumsy Pietro. You are just as bad as a tipsy Pietro when playing pool but tipsy Wanda doesn’t care, insisting you teach her how to properly line up her shot. Tipsy you isn’t remotely embarrassed when Wanda completely misses hitting the ball with your guidance because your body is busy feeling something other than shame having Wanda pressed against you as she is.

Sober Sam is getting bored. Bethany is busy behind the bar doing her job, more patrons filling up the joint. A few minutes later, Pietro is practically sober; his coordination comes back and he doesn’t find playing pool as fun anymore. Also, he’s growing tired of watching his sister basically grind her ass on you every time it’s her turn.

Pietro ends the game five minutes later. “I’m tired. Let’s let some other people play.” He doesn’t give you a chance to reject the idea, handing his pool stick over to someone else saying his group can have the table. He and Sam head to the restroom but not before telling you two to be ready to go.

There is a pout on Wanda’s face that you find just too cute and you let her know so. “You are so adorable,” you tease, pinching her cheeks. Wanda sends you a glare that looks in no way threatening with her cheeks aflame, making you laugh. “I’ll get us some water. Wait here for Pietro and Sam.”

You head over to the bar counter. You grab Bethany’s attention and ask for some water. “So why was your girlfriend upset earlier?” She asks as she goes to fill up two cups for you.

“Huh?” you ask confused. She repeats herself leaning over the bar in order for you to hear her more clearly. “Your girlfriend,” she nods in Wanda’s direction. You turn to see Wanda watching you two closely. “She looked pissed off earlier.”

Bethany hands over the two cups of water. You didn’t need to but you clarify anyway, albeit a little awkwardly. “Oh, um, she’s not my girlfriend.”

“Does she know that?” The bartender smirks at you. You’re confused and tell her so. She rolls her eyes at you. There is no way you could be so oblivious. She does find it cute that you were so focused on your “not girlfriend” that you didn’t see the way she was interested in you. She takes pity on you and clarifies, “She was totally acting like a jealous girlfriend earlier.”

“No, she wasn’t,” you deny, the idea sounding totally absurd to you. But with the way Bethany sounded so sure, you can’t help but begin to question the possibility. “How do you know?”

“I see these things all the time. Reading body language becomes a skill when you work at a bar. Trust me.”

Bethany sees you still doubting her so she proposes something. “Here. I’ll prove it. Do you mind if I touch you?”

You look at her confused but give her permission anyway. She reaches over and runs her finger up and down your forearm. You watch her move and feel more so lost when she throws her head back in laughter. “Okay, what are you doing?”

“If she is jealous, like I say she is, she will do one of two things. She will either come up here and act all possessive or she’ll storm off like she did earlier to the restroom.”

“I don’t know,” you say, unsurely, already pulling your arm away. You are not one to want to play emotional games. Before you have a chance to tell Bethany that, she says, “I should have put some money on it.”

You feel an arm slide around your waist. Wanda comes up beside you and pulls you into her. You are a little startled to be honest, especially when she kisses your underjaw making sure to give Bethany a good view. Wanda catches Bethany giving you a cocky smirk and it irks her.

“Piet and Sam are waiting for us,” she reminds you. You don’t say anything, your mind still trying to process that Bethany is right and Wanda might just be jealous. Bethany sees the realization glaze over your eyes and rolls with it, pushing Wanda’s buttons. “Oh, you’re leaving already? Well if you ever want more conversations like these,” she writes on a piece of paper behind the bar and hands it over to you folded, “here.”

Wanda is nearly grinding her teeth at this point. The audacity of that woman to give you her number while Wanda is with you is amazing. Though Wanda knows she’s not with you- with you, clearly the woman would think Wanda was something to you given the way she is wrapped around you. And if that wasn’t enough to piss her off, the way you say “Um, okay?” before pocketing the piece of paper is.

“You know what, we’ll just wait for you in the car,” Wanda huffs, pulling away from you and storming off to Pietro and Sam. You watch her go, ready to follow but Bethany calls your attention once more. “And there is number two. What are you standing here for? Go. She’ll only be more upset the longer you take.”

“Thanks?” You leave it at that, not knowing what else to say and make your way to the exit. Bethany watches you leave with a shake of her head, mumbling to herself, “She’s gonna eat her alive.”

You reach in your pocket to read the note the bartender gave you, opening the door with your back. Wanda, who is leaning against the hood of the car, watches in jealousy as you laugh at the contents of the note.

Sam asks, “What are you smiling about?”

Wanda answers for you, tone dripping in discontent, “Getting the number you couldn’t get.”

“What?! Let me see!” Sam rips the paper from your hand. Wanda rolls her eyes in annoyance and gets in the backseat, slamming the door closed. Her brother shakes his head in amusement, but follows sitting in the passenger seat instead.

“Come on, let’s go,” you hurry Sam along. You go around the car to open the door opposite the one Wanda slammed and take a seat. Wanda is already not looking at you, instead looking out the window, which you find pointless because there is nothing to look at seeing as there is another car parked right next to her. She’s just getting the view of their window.

“Wanda,” you say, trying to get her to look at you. “Wanda.” She still ignores you, so you press, “Are you really not going to talk to me?”

“I’m not in the mood. Why don’t you talk to Bethany? Seemed like you liked talking to her. Now you can call her,” Wanda responds, voicing Bethany’s name in an obnoxious way. You try not to snicker but Pietro doesn’t. Wanda kicks the back of his seat, getting in trouble with Sam as he enters the car to see just that.

“Hey, knock it off! I don’t need Nat busting my ass for something I didn’t do,” he warns and points at Wanda, who huffs but leans back, crossing her arms in irritation. He continues, “Also, if you want me to laugh at your jokes, make them make sense.”

He throws the paper to your lap. You read it once more and laugh to yourself. Sam is about to start the car but you stop him. “Wait! Before we go, Sam, can you do me a favor real quick,” you say as you pull out a five dollar bill. “Can you go give this to Bethany?”

“So is this like an inside joke or something?” Sam takes the money anyway and heads back to the bar. Pietro asks, “Can I see the paper?”

“Why? You want to have a shot with her too? Clearly she was interested in Y/N, Pietro,” Wanda mumbles. You hand over the paper to her brother while rolling your eyes at her behavior, trying not to smile.

Pietro reads it and laughs louder than before. Wanda takes off her seatbelt and leans forward to snatch the paper from Pietro’s hands. “Okay, what is so funny? ‘Five bucks she says my name in a mean voice’.” Wanda’s voice trails off in the end out of embarrassment realizing that the note was about her.

“Hell yeah! I told you I would and I did. I still have the moves.” Sam barges into the car excitedly. “Look what I got!” He waves around a piece of paper in front of Pietro’s face.

“Her number? Nice,” Pietro says, pretty impressed.

“Yep. She said ‘Here, for if you’re ever back in town,’” Sam tries mimicking Bethany’s voice. Turning to you, he adds, “Oh and she also said to tell you she told you so, whatever that means.”

“Wanda knows what it means,” Pietro jokes, making you chuckle and Wanda punch him in the arm.

“Alright, alright. Chill out and put your seatbelt on,” Sam tells Wanda. He turns on the car and begins the drive home. “It’s a good thing we’re leaving when we are. Another drink in you and we’d have to pull you out of a bar fight.”

Wanda does as she’s told without another word. In fact she stays silent for the whole ride back, not because she was annoyed like earlier. To say she’s embarrassed is an understatement. It’s one thing for her brother to tease her, throwing remarks he finds oh so humorous her way. She’s used to that from her twin. It’s another thing for you to match his energy, laughing at his jokes and having the same knowing smirk on your face.

Of course Pietro would know when she’s jealous; they’re twins. Pietro acts the same exact way when he’s jealous. Wanda just wasn’t ready for someone else to pick up on it, especially not the person for why she felt the way she did.

It is humiliating and that’s why she vows to deny, deny, deny if anyone brings it up, which of course you do because life hates Wanda and won’t let her have this one thing.

You bring it up after you get home. Wanda tries to rush out the car but you hold her arm, signaling for her to stay in the car. You tell Sam and Pietro to go ahead inside without you, that you need to talk to Wanda in private.

Sam jokingly “oohs” and rolls down the windows a bit before turning off the car. “This seems like a long talk. I wouldn’t want you ladies to suffocate under all the tension,” he quips.

Wanda looks at her brother for help and he almost stays seeing the dread on her face, but then he thinks about how this could be new ammunition for teasing her later and makes his decision to go. “Sorry, Wands, but she said ‘in private’.”

“Since when do you respect privacy?” she challenged, ticked that her own blood would leave her to die of mortification for his own amusement.

“It’s never too late to try new things,” he reasons. He follows Sam to the house, laughing because Wanda shouts out of the car window, “Try not being a traitor next time!”

Wanda’s attention finally turns to you when she hears you giggling. Wanda sits as far away from you as she can, her back practically against the car door. Your laughter dies down, but you still sport a wide smile on your face, irritating her to no end. She crosses her arms and tries to keep her composure.

“What did you want to say?” She feigns innocence, hoping the conversation will take a different route than the one she feels it’s going. However, much like life you won’t let her have this.

“You know, I guessed you could be the jealous type given you telling your brother to stop flirting with me and the other way around, but damn, that was something else,” you tease, finding satisfaction when Wanda’s cheeks burn red.

You let her splutter for a minute, but then take pity on her when you see she can’t find the words to defend herself. You scoot close enough to her that your knees are pressing against hers. “It’s okay, really. Usually, I would find jealousy unattractive but there is something about green on you that I like. It really brings out your eyes.”

Your hands move forward to push some of her hair away from her face as if to see her eyes clearer. Wanda finally finds her voice, scoffing, “I was not jealous,” but she allows you to keep your hands on her face.

“No, of course not,” you reply sarcastically, smirk taking permanent residence on your face. You pinch her cheek to annoy her.

“Only insecure people get jealous,” Wanda huffs and pushes your hands away.

“Everyone has their insecurities, Maximoff.”

“What do you have to be insecure about?” she asks like you would be the last person to have any insecurities.

You lean your side onto the seat. “Plenty of things. Like, no one ever taking me seriously. I hide a lot behind jokes. Sometimes, I don’t even know if I’m being serious or not and that makes it really hard to communicate with people.”

You look away from Wanda who begins to uncross her arms, the earlier tension on her body from self preservation dissipating with your confession. Instead, you focus on your hands, fingers tracing the stitched lines on the leather seats.

You continue with a sigh, “Not to keep reliving the past, but it seems like it’s all I ever really do, I think maybe had I worked a little more on that, maybe Skye and I wouldn’t have ended like we did. Maybe had I shown I could be, I don’t know, more serious, someone you could not only have laugh with but someone you could confide in, have honest talks with, be a shoulder to cry on, then maybe she wouldn’t have seen me as a distraction and maybe we, I don’t know. I’m just rambling now.”

It gets quiet in the car. Wanda watches your hands continue to trace the lines on the seats. You look up at her when she clears her throat, ready to speak. “Vision broke up with me with the excuse that heroes are meant to be alone and I try but ever since he said that I can’t help but think he has a point.”

“Why do you think so?” you ask. Much like you finding something else to focus on, Wanda begins fidgeting with the rings on her fingers before replying, “It’s just that after we broke up, everyone left me alone. They were trying to give me my space, I guess but all it did was make me feel lonely.”

You reach out to stop her fidgeting with her rings which only half works. When you hold her hand, her other one comes to start playing with your fingers. “As embarrassing as it was to have you see me crying, I’m glad you stayed with me that first day,” Wanda whispers, almost like it’s a secret.

You smile and joke, “You were crying? I would have never known if you didn’t just tell me.” You succeed in making her laugh, as she tells you to shut up, but you continue teasing her. “Now the puffy eyes and runny nose make total sense.”

“Oh, god! Don’t remind me,” she pulls her hands away from yours to cover her face. She mumbles behind her palms, “I probably looked so gross.”

You chuckle at how wrong she is, remembering that day. You pull her hands away from her face and respond, “Quite the opposite. I was wondering how someone could look so pretty crying.”

Wanda narrows her eyes at you and accuses, “Liar.”

“Honest. Then I thought how inappor- inaporpiet,” you struggle to say inappropriate so you rephrase, “how it was wrong to think that while you were crying. Sorry, the alcohol is still in my system.”

You continue through Wanda’s giggling. “And it’s your fault I’m not more sober right now!”

“What? How is this my fault?” she questions, still smiling.

“We didn’t get to drink the waters Bethany so nicely served us because you got jealous and stormed out,” you recount, watching the smile drop from Wanda’s face and a frown replace it.

“I was not jealous!” Wanda still denies, much to your amusement. She tries to pull away her hands but you keep a heavy grip on them.

“Incredible. We just had a whole ass conversation about insecurities and you still can’t admit you were jealous,” you laugh when she denies it again with a pout on her face that you attempt to kiss away, pulling her into you.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you mumble with a smile against her lips. She lets out an irritated sigh and leans back into you to finally do something about wiping that knowing smile off of your face.

Wanda’s lips on yours, you both forget what either of you were trying to prove as you lose yourself to the feeling of having her pressed against you. You are both a mess, still slightly inebriated, but not so much that you don’t know what you are doing. You are well aware that you are in Nat’s car and she would kill you if she were to find out what you were doing in the backseat.

You take the chance anyway thinking it would be worth it. Remnants of alcohol in your system and watching Wanda take her shirt off will do that. Hands are everywhere, stripping off clothes, so you don’t know who does it but the car horn sounds and makes you both stop in panic.

“Shit,” you both whisper, out of breath. You turn to look at what could have caused the noise and see your shoe on the driver seat. One of you had thrown the shoe at the wheel. You both look towards the house. The lights were still off. You don’t think you woke anyone. At least, you hope you didn’t.

“Maybe no one heard?” You tell Wanda who looks at you with a ‘you can’t be serious’ look. There are five members of the most renowned team of heroes on the planet in that house. One, if not all, heard the horn.

Your phone chimes. Wanda gives you an ‘I told you so’ look as she pulls out your phone from your pants that are halfway down your thighs. Her heart stops in her chest as she sees the text is from Natasha. She shows you and you cover your face, not wanting to read whatever death threat is on there.

“Read it for me. Maybe coming from you, I might not have a panic attack,” you beg. She opens the text and reads aloud, “ ‘I expect the car to smell of nothing but lemon scented disinfectant wipes tomorrow’ followed by two exclamation points and the red angry face emoji.”

You let out a sigh and remove your hands. “That doesn’t sound too bad. I don’t think she’s that mad.”

“Wait,” Wanda holds up a finger, reading off of your phone, “she’s typing.”

Your phone chimes incessantly. Wanda begins reading off, “Okay, girl with hand up emoji, ladder emoji, window emoji, person in bed emoji, oh, um.” Wanda’s eyes widen at what she now realizes is Nat threatening you through emoticons. “I am going to stop reading now so you can sleep tonight.”

You groan but take the phone to read through the little story Nat created. “Although I am fearing for my life, I have to give it to her. This is very creative and it sends shivers down my spine.”

You toss your phone onto the passenger seat. “If this is my last night, let’s end it right,” you say before dramatically sweeping Wanda in your arms and moving her to lie down as best as one can in the back seats of Nat’s car. She giggles as you nearly stumble to the floor due to your pants.

“Stupid jeans,” you mutter, swiftly taking them off and moving on top of Wanda who is still giggling. You quickly shut her up.

You wake up in the back seat of Nat’s car with Wanda in your arms. You feel three things at once: Wanda’s breath tickling your neck, the warmth of sunlight seeping through the car windows, and the beginnings of a headache. There is a loud screech that does nothing to help soothe the mild hangover. It wakes Wanda up as well. She voices her annoyance out loud, her morning voice husky.

“Ugh, what is that? Y/N, make it stop,” she demands, burrowing further into you as if that will somehow make it stop. Coincidentally enough it does stop, but before you can relax, you hear voices arise.

Wanda’s brows furrow and she tries to move away from you to see who could be coming to visit, but with the arm you have around her, you yank her back down into you.

“What are you doing?” you whisper yell.

She looks at you in confusion. “I’m seeing who it is.”

“Maybe that can wait once we’re fully clothed,” you suggest, pointing out the fact that all either of you have on are underwear and your shirts from last night.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, just stay still and hope they don’t peek in the car,” you command. The two of you stay quiet as the voices pass by. From the sounds of it, they come from two women.

“Oh, calm down! That landing was not that bad. It was way better than last time!” one of the women exclaims. Her voice sounds way too familiar, but you are too busy holding your breath in order to not get caught to actually try to place it.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better, Daisy. Wait, who let you fly it before?” the second woman asks, the end of her sentence sounding far away hinting at them approaching the front door away from the car you and Wanda currently hide in.

You hear knocking and then the front door opening. You think you hear Nat’s voice say something that sounds like “oh, fuck” but you aren’t too sure. You and Wanda only get up when you hear the front door close.

You both hastily redress into yesterday’s clothes. Peeking out the window, Wanda notices a jet outside that definitely was not there last night and seeing as there are no other cars around, she can only assume it belongs to the two women which makes sense after hearing that one of them flew it.

She sadly puts two and two together. These are the agents that would pick them up to take them back to the compound. You also pieced it together, “They’re here early.”

Wanda notices you sound a little peeved at that but you collect yourself. “Come on. Let’s go see what that’s about.” You give her a quick kiss before you exit the vehicle, holding the door open for her to step out.

Wanda has half a mind to pull you back into the car, wrap back up in you, and never let you go, although she knows in the end it’s not you that’s going but her that has to leave. She’s just sad that her ride is here so soon and that she had to wake up to it after a night like last night.

Last night was what felt like a wake up call for her. Lying in your arms, she began to wonder what she was even doing with you anymore. You make her feel like no one else has. She might have denied it all night, but she can be honest with herself. She knows she was jealous. She has never been jealous about anyone before and maybe because she knows she has no claim to you, in other words any reason to be jealous, she realized she wants to have a reason. She wants the right to be jealous.

You stand there patiently waiting for her to step out of the car. Once she’s out, you fix her hair for her. “There. Maybe not Sister Wanda but I didn’t leave any marks for you to be DJ Wanda either,” you joke, trying to pull a smile from Wanda.

You do, but you find it odd that she doesn’t whack you or anything for teasing. “Wow, no violence after making a joke like that. Are you feeling okay? Did the alcohol not hit you until right now? Are you somehow drunk?”

“No,” she rolls her eyes at you. “I thought we had a rule about not hitting you.”

“Oh, so now you remember the rules. It only took you til your last day here to remember them,” you chuckle, closing the door behind her. You begin walking toward the house but when you reach the porch you feel Wanda pull you back. You look at her with questioning eyes.

Wanda decides to finally voice all her thoughts and feelings that she has been keeping to herself once and for all. “About those rules-“

“Robin Hood?”

Wanda is cut off by that familiar voice you couldn’t place before but you couldn’t mistake it now especially given that nickname. There was only one person to ever call you that. You didn’t have to look to know who it was but you and Wanda both turn to see the last person you thought you would ever catch in Westview County standing on your cousin’s porch.

“Skye?”

______________________________________________________

Dun, dun, duUuUn

@madamevirgo @marvels-writings @gayarchnemissis @myperfectlovestory @purplemeetsblue @magicallymaximoff @b0mbdotc0m @helloalycia @ironscarletwidowsoilder @cantcontroltheirfear @trikruismybitch @your-my-mission @imagine-reblog @fayhar @idek-5 @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo @bemyvitamin @musicinourlips @paumxmff @wandamaximoffsrings @yeetus-thyself @lostandsearching @when-wolves-howl @euphoriaszn2 @gingerbreadcookieforlife @myfavoriteficss @cyberbonesworld

#wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you

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lilyclawthorne · 2 years

Note

Hello! I love your blog. I was wondering what your take was on the triplets being overworked. Surely Alma didn’t put that kind of work/need for perfection on them immediately, so when do you think that started? I think it could’ve been when they turned 10, or possibly during the pre-teen years

I’m mad at tumblr because I wrote a whole thing and then it got lost, so here’s take 2. Anyways, I agree it probably wasn’t pressure at the very first moment, but I think it maybe it came to each triplet at different ages, so I guess here’s some headcanons on what that may have looked like for each of them.

Julieta

A five year old being left alone in a kitchen would not sound like a good combo to anyone, including Alma. She starts teaching Julieta how to cook and be safe in the kitchen, supervising her when she does so.

Over the first few years, Julieta gets the hang of it, and she even has a couple of simple recipes she knows like the back of her hand.

Casita has also been shown to be pretty good at supervising children by this point.

So at about 8 or 9, Alma let’s Julieta begin cooking by herself, with Casita watching over her. She’s asked to make a batch of something each day is all.

Alma is fairly impressed with Julieta and praises her, and Julieta likes making her mother proud, so when demand begins to grow, the girl keeps up with it, even if it means more and more time in the kitchen everyday, and eventually it just becomes the expectation instead.

I will say, I think Alma delivered the food before then, and when Juliet’s started making it on her own, they tried to have her hand it out as well, but the girl actually cried at the sight of blood and broken bones, and even had nightmares about it. So Alma keeps handing out the food until she’s a bit older, maybe around 13 or so.

Bruno

At first I think Alma simply just asks him to tell her when he has a vision, and she decides what to do with that information. After all, they don’t know exactly how this power works, so they can’t know where to go with it right away.

Eventually she encourages him to try having at least one vision a day, just to get the hang of having them. Once that’s happening, she asks him to try and focus on a specific person or thing. It’s baby steps, and takes awhile to get through each one.

She’s fully supportive of him messing around with his methods and finding the ritual that helps him do it, as long as it’s helping his power grow.

After a few years, once he’s able to look for specific things, Alma starts bringing people in, but it’s never huge things, definitely nothing that would obviously involved death, illness, or injury. That’s a lot of a kid to be seeing.

Once he’s gotten used to seeing people as well, maybe by the time he’s 11 or 12, she decides he can start giving visions to those who ask. Of course people come running, and that’s how he discovers too many visions cause awful headaches, but he doesn’t want to complain.

After the initial excitement of it all dies down, most people who are coming to him are probably people who have a reason to be worried about the future, they already know worst case scenarios are a possibility and they’re hoping he’ll tell them it won’t happen. People who aren’t worried about the future have less of a reason to see him. Sometimes they do turn out good, but often times he’s just confirming people’s worst suspicions, which is why he gains the reputation of being bad luck.

Pepa

This is one Alma doesn’t quite know where to begin with. Plenty of parents teach their kids how to cook, and future vision isn’t normal, but at least she could figure out what steps to take with it. How do you teach a five year old the emotional maturity that tends to only come with age and growing up?

Also, when small children experience bad things, they can quite literally be the worst thing sun their life, since they haven’t lived a very long life. And Pepa certainly loves to cry, or throw tantrums, or just always feels her emotions in very big ways.

So she can’t teach her how to control her emotions so easily, but she can certainly help her manage them. I like to imagine for the first years or so, whenever Pepa cries, Alma would take her for a walk, typically to the crops or a garden so the rain can also be useful, and by the time they’re done Pepa has calmed down.

She can’t do that all the time though, so she tries to find other ways for Pepa to let out her feelings, but they just, do not work, even if she’s sad and writing her feelings out, she’s still sad, so it still rains. If she’s angry and punching a pillow or something, she’s still angry, so there’s still thunder and lightning in the sky.

So she goes for visualizing calm and focusing on something else. That’s where “clear skies” comes from. It works for a bit, but especially as Pepa gets older, there’s times she wants to feel her emotions, needs to let them out, and well it certainly leads to arguing with her mother.

By the time she’s 13, now that she’s “not a kid” anymore supposedly, people aren’t afraid to comment that she needs to grow up and stop letting her emotions get the best of her. Not a great look here, but Alma thinks this is the kind of thing that maybe Pepa just needs to hear to understand the impact she has, so she lets her know.

It’s one thing to Pepa when she just thinks her mother is getting frustrated with her, but when it seems like everyone in town is, it’s another. The idea that she could be making everyone upset, upsets her, and thus she starts repressing her emotions way more.

#encanto #ask #anon #encanto headcanons #julieta madrigal #bruno madrigal #pepa madrigal #madrigal triplets #alma madrigal

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husbandohunter · 3 years

Text

Stardew Impact [Stardew Valley+Genshin Impact x Reader]

Part 2/3 Zhongli, Xiao

Synopsis: “A mysterious phenomenon brought you and your s/o to an unfamiliar world: Pelican Town! Without the power of Visions, the two of you begin to learn the life of what it takes to be...a farmer?”

(DOMESTIC FARM LIFE ROUND TWO)

Genre: Fluff

Others

Diluc and Kaeya

Albedo and Childe

(A/n): This was meant to be part 3 but I couldn't wait to write xiao. Plus Ive been writing Albedo for almost the whole month already Word count_2.6k

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Xiao

• Thrown in an unfamiliar environment puts Xiao on high alert. Instincts kick in and his hand subconciously grabs for his spear. Nothing. Not even his vision activated. Xiao's gaze darts all over before landing on your figure. He sighs in relief, you're safe, that much he can decipher as of now.

• Stripped of his power, left with only claws and teeth (if must) to protect you from any dangers, he was ansty with every little thing.

• The villagers are so nice??? For what reason must they have to act so friendly to strangers (Xiao wonders). The Mayor even granted you two a vast farmland free of charge.

• Shortly he realized he no longer had his karmaic debt. Xiao wasn't sure how to live his life in this state. He dedicated his entire existence to years of slaughter and suffering that it became the only thing he knew. He won't admit it of course, he'll just throw in scoffs and remarks about how mundane activities are a waste of time when in reality, he just has no clue on how to handle them.

• Thats why the first day was difficult as you both try to figure out how to plant parnsips. Deciding it was better to go with an experiment, you split the share of seeds in half and used what basic knowledge you had on farming to finish the job. Xiao on the other hand tried copying what you did….though the outcome wasn't so desirable it was a mess. (His trained hands have taught him to be on the rough side).

• He doesn't bother socializing with the townspeople even though he has no karmaic debt to worry about. Xiao thinks you're more than enough anyways so what's the point?

• Robin is the only person who can tolerate him for obvious reasons (cough Sebastian cough) she knows exactly how to deal with his personality type. His glares don't faze her, she simply thinks its just a teenage phase of some sort.

• Eventually they become mutuals, Xiao thinks Robin is similar to Verr Goldet in a way. Since he's the one who does the heavy labour of chopping down trees and mining stones for building upgrades, he gets a chance to visit her house quite often. He comes back with lots of recipes too.

• You find out that his adepti blood never left him. Xiao doesn't need sleep so you better believe it when he tells you the next morning that he spent the whole night watering all 300 of your crops (watering is the only process he's good at for farming).

• Sometimes you catch him staring out of the window, wondering what he may be thinking. Life was so much more different, almost hard to recognize. Was this real? Is it okay for it to be real, just this once? Ever since he committed his duty to Morax, Xiao didn't dream of a time when everything would be peaceful. Yet here he is, no longer a weapon but on a journey to find out what it's like to live as a normal person.

• Spring: Every morning you find him kneeling behind the cabin with the pet cat (yes, cats seem to suit Xiao very much). He just stares at them, hesitant if he wanted to pet their fur or rub their chin. So he continues to glare intensely, scaring your cat away :(

• Whenever you wanted to attend any of the town's festivities, Xiao wouldn't even hide his distastefulness but goes with you regardless. Why do mortals consider hiding eggs and finding them a fun activity? And what kind of a name is Flower Dance? Can't they just call it a dance?

• Though…he does like the sight of you wearing a flower crown. Xiao likes putting stuff in your hair.

Since setting foot upon this new world, time seemed to have slowed down to the point that almost everything felt like an eternity. And you didn't mind, with him by your side, you wouldn't mind if it did last forever.

The lull of the grass was the only sound Xiao could hear as he closed his eyes and rested his head on your lap. You maneuvered across his scalp in small, subtle motions, surprised with how warm he felt against the heat your palm. He stirs a little and lets out a soft breath before turning his face to lay on the side.

You were slightly intrigued by the yaksha's new demeanor. From far away, Xiao was an intimidating man, even during the first time you laid eyes him, his presence felt similar to a knife pointing at anyone who dares to come too close. But now, the face that usually held his signature annoyance melted into something you never thought you'd see as the sun rays brushed against the surface of his fair skin. You observed the way his dark eyebrows stayed in a relaxed arch. The red crescents lining right above his beautiful long lashes and the sound of soft snores through parted lips. It was hard to believe that this man was the same person who claimed to have ended a thousand lives through thousands of years.

Did he fall asleep already?

Gently moving away the strands away from his cheekbone, hovered your gaze above him and whispered, "I thought adepti don't need rest."

"Hmph," Xiao responds, though there was no harshness in his tone, "Quit trying to be difficult, I didn't tell you to stop."

The smug grin on your face only widens. You lean downward and said to his ear, "And what's the magic word~?"

Xiao sighs at your antics. You were truly pushing your luck today and he simply didn't have the patience to entertain you. Without a warning, he grabs your wrist and pulls you down, foreheads pressing until you were but a breath away. The adepti conquers, he does not plead.

• Summer: As expected, your parnsnips weren't able to grow as much. Thus, this season was going to be the one to make up for the lost profit. Xiao is very good at hunting, perhaps the best in the entire town. Though the way he catches fish is rather peculiar, said by the folks. He prefers to carve a spear made of wood and repeatedly stabs the lake until results show. Xiao dislikes the old fashioned way, he says its unproductive and it unecissarily takes too much time.

• But as much as he scared the whole town, they were extremely grateful when he cleaned up the slime issues happening in the mines. You could say that he grew very popular since then and eventually mustered up the courage to greet him a hello whenever he passes by.

• You nudge him to reply back. Xiao usually shoots you a glare but slowly, he learns the courtesy of acknowledging someone's prescence.

• Fall: You woke up to a burnt smell coming from the kitchen. Xiao just thought he would return the favour since you always worked so hard. (He was actually trying to figure out what a 'whisk' was. It was no wonder why there were eggshells in the dish!)

• You realized that Xiao was taking more initation compared to before. At night, when you thought the animals were actively jumping in the barns, the noise was actually from Xiao trying to adjust himself to the ways of tending the field. After learning what TV was, he would always switch to the channel "Livin off the land" to gain some insight. Truly, Xiao was greatful even though he knew he eventually had to return to his duties, he wanted to utilize the current days the best way he could. And what better way was it to just make you happy in return?

• Winter: This was the season to test the accumulation of Xiao's abilities: you caught a cold and he had to manage everything in his own. Xiao scolded you for not wearing enough and being too careless but at the same he considered that you must've been working too hard.

• Goes to Robin for help. She basically became his mom now. Prepares the food and leaves them in the fridge, she teaches Xiao how to use the phone in case he needed any help and also lets him know where all the essentials are.

• Xiao stayed by your side the whole time even though you told him you'd be fine. But he refuses, he may no longer be a gaurdian but he was your gaurdian. That role never changed.

~~x~~

Zhongli

• You wake up on a soft bed with Zhongli sitting at a chair nearby. He hands you a cup of brewed water but you're still blatlantly confused. Seems like everything was taken care of by Zhongli, it ends up with him explaining everything to you.

• The folks instantly assumes you both as a married couple. Who could blame them? He did carry your unconcious body all the way to town while asking for a local doctor. You can bet that the ladies wish they were you at that moment. Zhongli took care of everything, including with the contract with the new farm.

• It didn't take long for you both to adjust to the new lifestyle. Zhongli's accumulated knowledge was enough to last all four seasons. Days past by peacefully as you shared the tasks. He'd place down the stone paths towards the gate and you busied yourself with decorating the house. After that was done, Zhongli would rest upon the rocking chair outside your door (like the grandpa he is) and sometimes you'd join him in one reading session. His voice was soothing, you eventually dipped into a slumber as the evening grew colder. Just like always, your beloved brings his arm to encapsulate you from the wind, brushing his thumb against your skin subconciously while you snore softly into his shoulder.

• In a way, the townsfolk were right. You both do act like a married couple. It's basically domestic life with Zhongli in a nutshell.

• He gets connected with Gunther and lands a role in the Museum. Since he's there so often, Zhongli also manages to be acquainted with Elliot as well. Two men who have a common interest with books while speaking in poetic prose. Their conversation would last for hours to the point Gunther had to kick them out of the library!

• Veeeery good with the children, not in an entertaining way but its just the aura he reeks. Penny usually had trouble dealing with Vincent since he never seems to be able to focus but the minute Zhongli speaks, he's all ears. Not only that he was also very good with the elderly. He even recommended some herbs George could take to soothe his back issues.

• Problem is that he still forgets to bring his wallet and Childe isn't here to save him. So once you stepped foot into the Stardrop Saloon and Gus calls you over, he tells you about the cost he owed to his tab….

• But this tranquil life full of genuinity and deprived of sovereignty, he was overjoyed to be able to spend it with you. Because he knew you were unlike him, that all humans were born with an expiry date. He knew so well that after every new greeting, he would have to face the goodbyes over and over until the world eventually came to an end. He knew you were also going to be part of those many goodbyes while he would still be here.

• But as Zhongli walks amongst the fallen leaves, he remembered the beauty that carries within every new beginning. They brought him to you and he would never hesitate to trade his gnosis for it.

Spring: You shot up your bed when Zhongli blast the TV at full volume. He apologizes, saying that he was simply trying to change the channel. You figured it was best for him to go outside before he somehow glitches the screen until it couldn't repair itself (Robin charges for repairs).

• Every thursday you both go to Pierre's store to complete your grocery shopping. He offers to push the cart as you fill the basket with all the necessities (plus it saves you the trouble of having him tossing whatever he sees without looking at the price tag).

• Every afternoon you order a take out from the Saloon, sharing the meal while sitting at the fountain's edge near the community center. Every evening Zhongli would take you to explore the rest of the vast farmland, discovering places you weren't even aware of. It was no wonder why everyone thought you were a married couple.

• Summer: Since the cabin was too small for a bathroom, you guys would have to travel up the mountains in order to get to the Spa house (cue sweatiness x10).

• The concept of hotsprings was derived from Inazuma so it was no surprise that Liyue eventually took it after him. Zhongli had collected some incense from foraging items over the past few months, he knows whats up. But overall he gives the best bath sessions (hands down) and you were the one who insisted in joining him. He was a gentle and sweet lover, always putting your needs before his. Ancient artifacts and old history books have always been precious to him, he treated you no differently.

The heartbeat of the oceans continues to rock back and forth until they brush up on the sandy shore, washing away the two pairs of footprints left behind by a man and a woman.

Gold against gold, his amber eyes reflected against the scenery. Millions of lights flashed among the sea when the sun began to climb down from the sky, it's rays hugged across the valley like an ethereal glow bestowed by the heavens as summer's wind brought even more warmth than what he had currently felt. You trance ahead of with the same light shaping around your form.

"Oh hey there's another rainbow shell," you waved at him before running off, "I'll be back!"

How is it that you still continue to shine like gold in his memories?

Zhongli suddenly ponders at the chapters laying ahead of him. He spent so many years turning each page without ever reaching a conclusion, forever searching the fabled happy endings written in fairytale books, but he knew his immortality wouldn't grant him that wish.

Thus, the formal archon raised his pen and reweaves his own story. He envisions his future with you by his side, engraving every detail until it was immortalized in his memories.

Perhaps I shouldn't keep her waiting.

With a renewed resolve, Zhongli clutches the gemstone tightly in his palm, he seals the page with the final contract between your future and his.

• Fall: After getting your first house upgrade, it was time for the next event: the ceremony. Yes, Zhongli would only have a wedding if Liyue traditions were involved. Everyone was invited of course, they were quite intrigued with the flashy setup such as lanterns and fireworks (you were a little worried with where he got the budget for such items) and Zhongli even educated Gus about some recipes he can use for the Saloon.

• You found out that Zhongli was saving all his money for this day (it was no wonder that he couldn't pay for his tab!). Old habits die hard, it was a shame that he didn't have his powers to craft the right items, but at least he got to sea you in a traditional eastern dress (it's the part he was looming forward to the most).

• Fall is the best season. One you wouldn't forget.

• Winter: Ah he finally learns how to use technology after three seasons. He only knows two channels from the TV which was 'Livin off the Land' and the weather channel. Zhongli oftens talks to himself as he tries to figure out more mechanics, he seems to be extremely absorbed in the most basic things.

• The miner of the house. But instead of using them to upgrade tools and donating them to the museum, Zhongli likes to keep some of them for collection. You could say your house also had a little museum in the other room.

• Romcom movies and soap operas. You can't change my mind that this is what you both spend your time watching as the snowstorm rages outside.

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