#{ ♡ fragile like a bomb ;; about }

[itshoneys]

🍯 — Honey Anne Lavere

name — honey anne lavere nickname(s) — hon, sweets age — thirty day of birth / sign — October 15th / libra gender / pronouns — cis female / she, her sexual orientation — bi height — 1,72m occupation — influencer / socialite / co-owner of nirvana residence — beachwood birthplace ⏤ manhattan, new york

🍯 about. / 🍯 connections.

[danosrosegarden]

Make up sex after Edward breaks out of Arkham and comes to see you? You’re both crying and when he first woke you up reader was all angry and beating on his chest saying you hated him.

i gave my trust, i shed my blood - edward nashton x gn!reader headcanons (slight NSFW) ౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚♡

{contents ♡ mentions of violence, angst/anger and fluff mix, reader gets touched (genitals not specified)}

{word count ♡ ~800}

♡ he did it for you. through every moment of ghostly, freezing cold loneliness, every second of heart-twisting torment, every time you tasted the bitter, gritty coat of betrayal on your tongue, you should know that this was the truth: he did it for you.

♡ life was laboriously stagnant after edward was gone, each day stuck in the same aching, dreary limbo. you wake up, sleep crusted in the corners of your eyes. you forget to shower, forget to drink water, forget to eat, forget to do anything other than stare at the walls in the dark and feel as empty and destitute as a voice called out in a raging winter storm. the world was too loud. your screams were too quiet. what's the point in trying anymore.

♡ you think of the laughter laced within the bumps in the wall, all the memories injected into the picture frames and posters. each snapshot of life with him felt waterlogged and disintegrated now. there was the table you served each other dinner on. he hid it all from me. there was his book of crosswords he'd spend hours lost in each night. he murdered, spilled people's blood, reveled in them pleading for their lives. there was the polaroid taken in the park on your anniversary. grinning, cheeks pressed together, the sun beating down on your faces. he let himself get stolen away from me. he robbed us of the rest of our lives.

♡ you went through turbulent, crashing waves. there were the moments where your heart pumped warm love into your bloodstream, the moments where you thought of his face with a longing nostalgia. there were the moments you wept with your face in your hands, your body quivering and your eyes reddened with the mourning tint of what could've been. there were the moments you'd scream in your pillow until your throat was raw and stripped, the moments where you wish you could see him again just so you had the chance to claw his eyes out and slit his throat. how dare you do this to me. did all i gave to you mean nothing?

♡ you'd had a couple months to come to terms with the fact that you'd only ever see edward nashton again in news reports, which is why when you wake one night to hear the window crack and feel your bed shift with somebody's weight, you scream.

♡ gloved hands smack against your mouth and for some unexplainable reason, you soften against the feeling of the intruder's fingers.

♡ "i can't stay long."

♡ the gasp that comes whooshing like a windstorm out of your throat is instantaneous. he's wrapping his hands around you. he's pulling you in close. it feels completely foreign yet altogether instinctual, the way you reciprocate, like uncovering a time capsule. you want to feel the anger melting away like snow in the sun, but all that's left behind is the slushy, gray resentment. you're fragile; not fragile like a flower, fragile like a bomb.

♡ you shove him off of you. get the fuck away from me. your voice crackles like a thunderstorm, breaks like a tree limb in the lightning. you already feel the warm, shameful tears welling up, the tight-knit knot balling up in your throat.

♡ you missed him. with every blood cell floating through your body, with every wrinkle in your brain, with every eyelash and strand of hair. you missed him with your entire being. but there was also something gnawing from within that wanted to hate. something that craved the snap of bones and the gush of blood. you felt the two collide and battle within you.

♡ above all else, you were tired. dizzyingly exhausted. of missing him. of thinking about him. of waiting for him to return...and here he was. you could finally freefall into an all-enveloping slumber.

♡ edward shushes you through your sniveling babbles. i missed you, eddie. i hate you, eddie. i can't live without you, eddie. please don't go, eddie.

♡ his gentle, trembling touch feels like home. there was that edward you knew; always so anxious to get his hands on you, eyes always so wide with twinkling desire and dazzling hunger.

♡ i can't stay long, he repeats as his hand slithers down between your legs. you can already feel the bliss blossoming from where his fingers brush up against you.

♡ you don't care how long this moment will last; the feeling of his warm, gloved fingers touching your most sensitive areas and the familiar sound of his sputtering gasps bring you back to those moments. the moments of domestic euphoria, the moments where you two were infinite. with those old memories flickering in your gut, it was almost as if this would go on forever.

[fangdokja]

A stolen kiss, a forged marriage, and a choice that would ruin more than just your life.

❤︎ Synopsis. He claims to hate her, but his obsession says otherwise. A deadly game of spite and desire unfolds as enemies collide, and lines between hate, love, and possession blur in the most dangerous ways.

♡ Book. A Heart Devoured: A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Divorce Attorney x Reader

♡ Novella. Skin of the Saint - Part 7

♡ Word Count. 2,592

The slap came fast.

Not fast enough.

Your hand met his cheek in a sharp, echoing crack that reverberated through the quiet of the church. He didn’t flinch. He barely moved, only allowing his head to turn slightly with the force of it, like a man indulging in the strength of a child’s blow.

You'd never hit someone before.

He could tell.

Your palm lacked the intent to hurt, the weight behind it more shock than fury. It was adorable, really. A sorry attempt at defiance. His lips twitched into a slow, deliberate smile as he looked back at you, letting the heat of your touch simmer against his skin.

“Was that supposed to scare me, Church Girl?” His voice was velvet over steel, faint enough to make you strain to hear it, but edged with the kind of mocking and deathly malice that made your stomach tighten.

You were trembling, the remnants of your anger dissolving into something far colder—fear. The clarity in your wide eyes betrayed you, mingling uneasily with the blush that still painted your cheeks. That kiss had shaken you, more than you wanted to admit, more than you could control.

“Don’t,” you whispered, your voice fragile but firm. “Don’t touch me again.”

His smile widened.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, leaning in just enough to make you step back. His hand didn’t leave your neck, his fingers curling possessively against the curve of your skin. “You don’t get to make demands. Not with me.”

Finn took a hesitant step forward, his youthful bravado betrayed by the nervous set of his shoulders. “Hey—hey, stop that! You’re scaring her!”

He chuckled, low and dark, the sound wrapping around the room like smoke. “Am I?” His eyes flicked down to you, taking in the way your body stiffened, the way your breath hitched every time his grip tightened. “She looks fine to me.”

Finn bristled, his voice rising despite the tremor in it. “Let her go. She doesn’t want this—”

“Doesn’t she?” He interrupted smoothly, his gaze never leaving yours.

And then, without warning, he dropped the bomb.

“We’re getting married anyway.”

The words were a low drawl, as casual as discussing the weather, but they hit the room like a gunshot.

Your breath caught in your throat, your body going rigid against his touch.

“W-what?” Finn stammered, his expression a mixture of disbelief and bewilderment.

You managed to find your voice, the icy calm you usually wore cracking under the weight of your anger. “What are you talking about?!”

His fingers flexed against your throat, a silent warning to keep your tone in check. “It’s all very simple,” he said, his free hand reaching into his coat. He withdrew a neatly folded document, the thick paper crinkling softly as he spread it out on the altar. “See for yourself.”

Your eyes darted to the paper, your heart sinking as you scanned the official-looking script. A marriage certificate. Names, dates, signatures—all meticulously prepared.

Finn’s brows furrowed as he leaned in to inspect the documents. “This… this can’t be real,” he muttered, doubt lacing his voice even as his face betrayed his growing uncertainty.

But it was all there. The seals. The signatures. The vows.

“You forged this,” you said, your voice trembling with barely contained fury.

He tilted his head, amusement simmering darkly in his eyes. “Forged? That’s quite the accusation, wife.” He let the word linger, watching the way your composure faltered further under its weight.

“I’m not—” you began, but he cut you off, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as he murmured, “You are. And you have been for quite some time.”

The paper was thick in his hands, its weight purposeful, deliberate. He unfolded it with the kind of care a predator shows its prey, the crinkling sound amplified in the church's oppressive silence. He smoothed it over the altar, each motion slow and intentional, drawing your eyes to the stark black ink against ivory parchment.

The marriage certificate itself was immaculate, the script meticulously penned with an authenticity that defied scrutiny. Your name was there, bold and undeniable, paired with his own in a grim parody of unity. You couldn’t breathe as your eyes skimmed the ornate seals, the signatures that you’d never given, the dates that bound you to a lie you hadn’t chosen.

“This is unreasonable,” you managed to choke out, your voice thin and trembling.

He smiled, the unsettling kind of smile that chilled blood, his fingers tracing the edge of the paper like it was a perfection of art. “Unreasonable? No, my dear. This is art. A masterpiece, really.”

Finn stepped closer, his confusion now joined by growing horror. “You can’t expect anyone to believe this,” he retorted, though his tone lacked conviction.

“Why wouldn’t they?” His tone was light, conversational, but the edge beneath it was razor-sharp. “Everything is in order. The signatures, the dates, the witnesses.”

“There are no witnesses!” you snapped, the sharpness in your voice cold and deliberate, trying to hide the anger beneath.

He tilted his head mockingly, amusement glittering in his sharp eyes. “Aren’t there? Look closer.”

Your gaze flicked back to the document, to the names scrawled in elegant handwriting. People you’d known, trusted. Names that made your stomach churn.

“They didn’t—” you began, but he cut you off with a soft laugh.

“Of course they didn’t. But how would anyone know that?” He leaned closer, his baritone voice dropping to a low conspiratorial whisper. “A forged signature looks just as real as the genuine article. And if someone were to dispute it, well…” His hand slid down to tap the bottom of the page, where an official-looking seal gleamed. “Good luck arguing with the courts.”

Finn’s face paled further, his hands clenching into useless fists. “This is fraud. It’s criminal. You could go to prison for doing this.”

He turned his gaze to the younger man, his expression one of exaggerated pity. “Oh, Finn. Naïve Finn. Do you really think anyone would question this?” His eyes shifted back to you, sharp and darkened with unspoken intent. “Do you think she will?”

You glared at him, your trembling hands betraying the defiance in your eyes. “This won’t hold up. I’ll dismantle it. This isn’t real.”

His smile widened, sharp enough to cut. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong.” He flipped the paper document over, revealing a second page, extremely dense with legal jargon. He slid it toward you, his fingers brushing yours as he did. “This,” he said, his voice soft but filled with quiet menace, “is very real.”

Your eyes scanned the text, the words blurring together in your growing panic. Clauses, liabilities, penalties—all woven into an airtight web designed to trap you. Each line was more damning than the last, outlining the consequences of disputing the marriage, of breaking the “sacred bond” it claimed to uphold.

At the bottom of the page, a single clause stood out, the words bold and cold and final:

Any attempt to annul, void, or dispute this marriage will result in the forfeiture of all personal assets and the assumption of any and all debts accrued by the involved parties.

Your chest tightened as you read the following lines:

Additionally, failure to comply with the terms of this contract will result in the dissolution of all affiliated organizations, including but not limited to charitable entities, religious institutions, and educational programs.

He watched you, his gaze heavy, unrelenting, as the weight of his words sank in. “You see,” he murmured, his tone almost gentle, “this isn’t just about you. It’s about everything you hold dear. Your little church, your precious charity work, the people you claim to care about. They’ll all pay the price if you even think about defying me.”

“This… this is monstrous,” Finn whispered, his voice shaking.

“No,” he corrected, his smile returning. “This is meticulous. Thoughtful, even. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

You tore your eyes away from the paper, your breath coming in short, shallow gasps. “You can’t do this.”

He stepped closer, his presence extremely suffocating, his shadow swallowing the light around you. “Oh, but I can. And I have.”

His hand reached for your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “So, you see, Church Girl, there’s no point fighting anymore. You can hate me all you want. You can cry, scream, pray to your God for deliverance.” His lips brushed against your ear, his voice dropping to a low, mocking whisper. “But in the end, you’ll always be mine.”

The room felt too small, the walls closing in as his words wrapped around you like a noose. He straightened, his expression softening into something almost tender as he looked at you.

“You’ll thank me someday,” he said, his thumb brushing over your trembling lower lip. “For saving you from a life of shallow mediocrity. For giving you purpose. For making you mine.”

────────────

The church was silent, a hollow expanse of shadow and failing light. Stained glass windows filtered in faint beams, casting ghostly patterns over cracked wooden pews and worn stone floors. The air was heavy with the faint tang of incense, long burned out, a haunting reminder of devotion now displaced. The old church was a sanctuary—your sanctuary—but tonight, it felt like a trap.

His hand was still on your throat, possessive, commanding. The way his thumb brushed the pulse beating just beneath your skin was maddeningly deliberate, a soft counterpoint to the tension that coiled between you. His eyes—dark, bottomless pits of control—bored into yours with an intensity that burned through the icy veneer you so desperately clung to.

“Do you think I don’t see it?” he murmured coldly, his voice a dangerous melody that reverberated in your chest. His lips hovered close enough that you could feel the heat of his breath against your cheek. “The way you look at him.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. The words lodged in your throat like glass, cutting every time you tried to summon your defiance.

Finn. Always Finn. The bright-eyed priest who spoke of salvation with a conviction that never faltered, even when the world around him crumbled. The one person who made this hell seem bearable to you.

His grip tightened, dragging you from your thoughts, forcing you to face the man in front of you—the man you hated, feared, and yet couldn’t seem to escape.

“Look at me,” he ordered, his voice low and venomous. When you didn’t obey fast enough, his other hand shot out, gripping your jaw and forcing your face toward his. The strength in his fingers was unrelenting, a reminder of just how easily he could break you. “You don’t get to ignore me, my little wife.”

The word felt like a slap, sharper and more cutting than any physical blow. It wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. And yet, the evidence lay spread across the altar, black ink sealing a fate you hadn’t chosen.

“Let her go!” Finn’s voice cut through the tension like a lifeline, his tone firm despite the quiver of fear he couldn’t quite mask. He took a step forward, his hands clenched at his sides, and for a fleeting moment, you saw the same resolve in him that had drawn you to his sermons. “You’re nothing but a coward if you think this is love. It's folly!”

The man’s lips curled into a slow, wolfish grin, his eyes glinting with amusement as he tilted his head toward the priest. “A coward?” he repeated, his tone dripping with mockery. “That’s a bold accusation coming from a bastard who doesn’t even know what it means to protect what’s his.”

Finn didn’t falter, though his eyes flicked nervously to the hand still wrapped around your neck. “Love isn’t about control. It’s about trust, respect—”

“Spare me the sermon,” he interrupted coldly, his gaze snapping back to yours. “Tell me, little wife—” His thumb pressed harder against your throat, making your breath hitch. “Do you trust him to protect you? To keep you safe from me?”

You wanted to speak, to say yes, to scream it, but the weight of his presence smothered your words. Instead, your silence answered for you.

His grin widened. “That’s what I thought.”

Finn’s anger flared, his voice rising. “You’re sick! She doesn’t belong to you—”

“She belongs to me in every way that matters.” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, the amusement fading as something darker took its place. “And if you keep pushing, you damn priest, I’ll make sure you understand exactly what that means.”

The threat hung in the air, extremely heavy and suffocating. Finn hesitated, his righteous fury dimming as fear took hold. He knew it wasn’t an empty warning.

You wanted to cry out, to beg Finn to leave before this man turned his wrath on him. But before you could act, his grip on you shifted, pulling you closer. His lips brushed against your ear, his baritone voice a low growl that sent uncomfortable shivers down your spine.

“Kiss me back, wife,” he commanded, his firm tone leaving no room for argument. “Or I’ll start with him.”

Your stomach twisted, a mixture of fury and despair boiling in your veins. You tried to pull away, to shove him off, but his grip was unyielding. His other hand slid to the small of your back, yanking you flush against him. The hard press of his body left no room for denial, and your heart pounded in your chest as his lips claimed yours in a kiss that was anything but tender.

It was possession, raw and unrelenting, his teeth nipping at your lower lip until the metallic tang of blood bloomed on your tongue. His mouth moved against yours with brutal insistence, his hands roaming with a hunger that bordered on violent.

Your fists clenched, your nails biting into your palms as you fought against the wave of helplessness that threatened to swallow you whole. The cold rage bubbling beneath your fear found an outlet, and before you could think, your teeth sank into his lower lip, hard enough to draw blood.

He pulled back, a low, pained chuckle rumbling in his chest as he wiped the crimson streak from his mouth. His eyes burned with something wild, something unhinged, as he looked at you with equal parts admiration and fury.

“There it is,” he murmured, his voice softer now, but no less dangerous. “That fire. That’s what I want.”

You glared at him, your defiance tempered only by the icy rage that burned in your veins. “You insult my God, my faith, and expect me to kneel to you?” Your voice was sharp, cold, but he only smiled.

“I don’t expect you to kneel,” he said, his fingers brushing over your lips, smearing your blood with his own. “I expect you to break. And when you do, you’ll realize there was only ever one altar worth worshiping at.”

His hand slid lower, possessive and unrelenting, and your stomach churned at the weight of his promise. Finn’s horrified gaze burned into you, but you couldn’t look at him. Not now.

[teenidlegirl]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝓑eauty 𝓞f 𝓣his 𝓜ess ♡ 𝓒hapter 𝓕ourteen

꒰⠀⠀⟡⠀.⠀military!miguel⠀𝓍⠀fem!neighbor!reader⠀.⠀⟡⠀⠀꒱

‧ ִ ۫⠀♱ 𝓢𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. while you’re still conflicted about the baby, miguel comes back with much fear and regret but he wasn’t expecting to have company awaiting him home and it isn’t you.

‧ ִ ۫⠀♱ 𝓒𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. angst, pregnancy, emotional distress, arguments, swearing, one face slap (miguel receiving and he deserves it), past character death, mainly miguel’s pov

❛⠀ previous chapter⠀⋅⠀masterlist⠀⋅⠀next chapter ⠀❜

he… just panicked…

his heart stopped beating the moment “pregnant” was mentioned out loud, his heart stopped. his breathing suddenly stopped as everything became silent and blurry to him. miguel only sat there with tons of emotions throw at him like bombs.

disbelief, anger, sorrow, pain, distress, panic.

all those emotions bubbling inside him all at once. miguel just couldn’t believe it, as if that was the most impossible thing he’d ever heard.

a baby?

he’s gonna have a baby?

he’s gonna become a father?

that… that can’t be true… he can’t be a father. it was impossible to be a father and have a child, not with his line of work. miguel didn’t even think of the possibility of having children, if it was in the books for him. he was too focused on duty and with gabriel’s death, it was never considered.

how could he be a father if he failed to protect his little brother? what if he fails to protect you and the baby just like he failed to protect gabriel?

miguel, still to this day, carries the guilty in his shoulders of his brother’s death. forever carries the responsibility for causing his demise. he had one job to protect his brother yet ultimately failed.

if he failed his brother, what are the chances of failing the baby, failing you?

miguel couldn’t lose more people he cared about.

he was so scared.

so scared that he didn’t hear you talking to him after revealing your pregnancy. your voice fell deaf upon his ears and vision too blurry to see you. miguel could only hear the rapid beating of his heart, pounding in his chest. he was panicking internally, unable to speak or hear. only sat there with multiple emotions invading his fragile mind, like an internal war.

the fear won the war.

his body went autopilot, functioning like a machine as he rose from your couch and started walking towards the front door. his ears blocking your soft sobs of his name as miguel reached for the door.

he simply left… carrying the fear inside him like a beast eating his heart like a served meal.

miguel left you alone with a broken heart and he didn’t even realize how hurtful his actions were.

the fear consumed completely that he didn’t go back to his apartment. instead, his autopilot body guided him to the parking garage where his bike was. he didn’t get on right away, miguel stood there in silence for a moment. until his body moved, got on the bike and simply took off in silence.

he never went back.

instead he just drove off.

drove and drove until the sun was slowly rising and the sky was turning blue. he arrived at the secret tiny cabin he owned in the outskirts of the city. in the middle of a small forest, hidden from the public eye. it was a place of escapism, a place where miguel would seek for escape from reality. he visited often and mostly stayed right after gabriel’s passing. no one knew of it, he didn’t want anyone to know.

his phone was completely turned off. all the texts and calls from you and others were left in the void, forever unanswered. miguel was in too deep, too lost in fear to do anything. the entire time he was staying in the cabin, the man barely slept.

the nightmares returned, full of pain and terror. the second his eyelids would close, flashbacks of gabriel’s fearful eyes and tears haunted him. those tears of fear and pain trailing down gabriel’s face as his body was slowly giving out in the arms of his older brother. whispering words of reassurance, telling miguel that it isn’t his fault and it’s okay before letting out his final breath.

then, the nightmares were about you and the baby. you holding a tiny bundle of joy that’s a combination of you and him. their tiny arms reaching out for him, you smiling at both of them. before suddenly you both vanish in thin air, leaving miguel panicking then suddenly transferred in the battlefield with a broken heart, a fragile mind and tears in his eyes. although, miguel did experience those three exact things every time he woke up heavily gasping for air.

majority of the nightmares were him dying in combat, leaving you alone as a single mom, leaving the baby without a father. those were the worst nightmares of them all because it was possible.

what if he dies in combat?

what if he never came back home?

you would be alone and the baby would have no father. he would’ve already failed you both and miguel couldn’t allow that to happen.

he was scared… he was so scared…

he couldn’t fail again.

yet little did miguel know that he has already failed you both, leaving you alone to deal with this mess. the fear consumed him too much to the point that miguel failed to recognize what he has done. spent too much time in that cabin just allowing fear and guilt to consume him entirely that he didn’t realize exactly how long he’s been gone. didn’t realize that he straight up abandoned you.

which is why he’s returning home after 3 weeks.

3 weeks of no contact, completely cut off communication from the world.

3 weeks of fear and guilt consuming his mind.

3 weeks of sleep deprivation.

3 weeks of leaving you alone and heartbroken.

now the bastard has finally return to finally face the reality of the situation. however, miguel wasn’t prepared to face the consequences of his actions.

he was scared- no, terrified to come back home and see you after 3 weeks of abandonment and no communication. miguel knew you weren’t going to greet him with a smile and hug. he knew you were beyond pissed at him and have absolutely every right to be yet miguel was still terrified.

he did the every thing he swore to never do: hurt you.

miguel hated himself more than ever. he hurt you in so many ways. abandoned you when you needed him most. ghosted you, left all your calls and texts unanswered. when he finally unlocked his phone, not surprised by the hundreds of missed calls and texts not only from you but from others as well like peter and his mother, miguel’s heart dropped at the text you sent about your OB-GYN appointment.

he missed it and you went alone.

the guilt hit him harder than being struck by a train. miguel fell down to his knees and cried. tears of guilt and shame trail down his face.

miguel knew he should’ve been there with you. waiting with you in the lobby, his hand holding yours because he knew you were anxious. sitting beside you still holding your hand throughout the examination like he should have. but his stupid ass was stuck in this tiny cabin like a fucking coward while you had to experience it alone.

you fucking coward.

look at what you’ve done.

what is wrong with you?!

you hurt her and she hates you.

all those thoughts repeat in his mind and miguel deserves it every bit. but those negative thoughts couldn’t prevent him from going back. he had to go back to you. no matter how much he was afraid.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ   ┈ ₊ ୧   ┈

with guilt and shame heavily resting on his shoulders, miguel stands in front of your apartment door. blood rushing through his veins, fingers fidgeting at his sides, and palms sweaty due to anxiety. mind plagued with numerous scenarios of what will happen the moment that door opens.

a harsh slap to the face, leaving a reddish mark on his cheek. words of anger and frustration yelled in his face. punches to the chest out of anger. slamming the door on him with harsh force.

he thinks he’s prepared for all that but truthfully he isn’t. miguel was ultimately afraid to face you.

with a deep breath and raising a shaky fist, miguel leaves a simply yet light knock on the door. anxiety increases immediately as he anticipates your arrival. heart pounding more than ever. on the verge of swearing like a pig. in simple terms, scared shitless.

but the door never opens, you never appear. miguel’s brows furrowed after waiting for a few minutes then knocks again. 15 minutes later, still no answer.

you’re not home.

miguel is about to knock again until he hears a door opening behind him. turning around, he sees his neighbor mrs. harrington leaving her apartment. he watches her eyes widen in surprised at his presence.

“oh miguel, dear. you’re back.” she greets him with that classic smile she always gives to everyone. probably the only kindest he’d received today.

he mirrors her smile. “yes, nice to see you again, mrs. harrington. sorry to bother you but uh- have you seen her lately?” his thumb gestures at your apartment, referring to you.

“no dear, i believe she’s at work but i’m sure you’ll see her when she gets off.”

oh fuck- that’s right, you’re working today. now the anticipation is even more worse.

“right, i forgot…” he mostly mutters to himself, disappointed that he forgot such a thing.

the elderly woman offers him a sympathetic smile. “well, i must be going i have to- oh! i almost forgot! there was a woman who came by earlier and is waiting for you in your apartment. i never seen her before but she said she knows you.”

miguel’s brows furrowed once again, this time in confusion. a woman is waiting inside his own apartment? who the hell would that be? no one has a key to his place. now, he’s a bit concerned.

“did she say her name?” he inquires.

she shakes her head. “no but i assume she’s family.”

family? now who could it possibly be?

“now i must go, dear! i don’t want to miss the bus!” mrs. harrington wave goodbye, leaving a confused miguel standing in the hallway.

slowly approaching his apartment, miguel hesitates and thinks for a moment. who could possibly have inside waiting for him? what family member could it be? like mentioned before, no one has a spare key to his place. taking a shaky breath, miguel slowly unlocks and opens the door.

for a second, he believes it’s you. waiting for his return to unleash all your anger and frustration. possibly standing at the entrance or sitting at the dining dining table or the sofa.

instead, it was the other woman he’s afraid of.

“mamá?”

sitting right there at the dining table is conchata o’hara. narrowed eyes staring daggers into his fearful ones and arms crossed her chest. if looks could kill, miguel would be way beyond six feet under. probably not even buried, enduring a far more horrific death.

oh he was fucked.

his lips part open to speak but she beats him to it.

“¿a dónde fuiste?”

oh she sounds pissed the fuck off and it causes an unpleasant shiver down miguel’s spine. his adam’s apple bobbed as he gulps nervously.

“perdón, mamá… i didn’t mean—”

“contéstame.” stern and straightforward.

his fists clenched at his sides as he inhaled a shaky breath. “i… i went out of town…” her cold hard stare urged him to elaborate. “i have this cabin… in the outskirts, no one knows about. mamá, perdón—”

her raised up right hand silences him before pinching the bridge of her nose, sighing frustratingly. “¿porque tengo un hijo tan pendejo?”

miguel winces at that.

“3 weeks without communication, 3 weeks without knowing where you were and if you were okay…” she slowly lowers her hand, staring him down. “3 weeks, miguel… ¡¿estas menso?!” she shouts.

oh here it comes.

“what the hell were you thinking?! leaving without saying anything?!” pure fury in her tone, ringing his ears. “leaving that poor girl behind?!”

miguel’s eyes widen when she mentioned you. how does she know you? you never met conchata. miguel didn’t want you to meet his family because of the situation between him and his mother. it was chaotic enough and he didn’t want put you in that.

“how do you know—”

a loud smack! echos the room as her hand comes in harsh contact with his cheek, leaving a reddish mark.

“cállete.” conchata scowls as she stands up from her seat, not sparing miguel a chance. “you got a girl pregnant and you left her?!”

he winced once again. “lo siento, i was—”

“no, no, no, no empieces.” she raises a finger, silencing him once again. “i taught and raised you better. raised you to be a good man. raised you to be a responsible human being. but this, miguel?!” she gestures at her son. “¡es un dismadre!”

miguel only stood there with guilt and shame illustrated on his face, as if he was a sad puppy being reprimanded for misbehaving. technically he was but puppies are much cuter, he wasn’t in this moment, not with his idiotic behavior lately. he deserves every once of anger from his mother, he knows that.

“how could you do this?! do this to her?!” conchata exclaims. “you left that poor girl to deal with this alone for 3 weeks! do you have any idea the damage you caused with your idiotic behavior?!”

miguel nods, shamefully. “yes and i know i need to fix this. lo prometo, mamá i will—”

“no.” she raises that finger again to silence him. “no more pinches promesas! you broke the biggest one the minute you left that girl. not only her but the baby tambien, tu bebé.” she emphasized the last part and miguel’s eyes widen in surprise.

his baby.

the baby you’re carrying.

the baby he abandoned.

he feels tears slowly prickling in his eyes at the thought. miguel looks away to blink them away, guilt washing coursing though his body like a tsunami.

conchata takes a deep breath to calm herself, containing the fury bubbling inside. “what you did is unacceptable, irresponsible.”

miguel only nods silently, still looking away to conceal the tears, acknowledging his mistake.

“i’ve had enough con tus mamadas, miguel.” the woman sighs heavily. “i was wrong for blaming you for gabriel because i knew it wasn’t your fault.”

this causes miguel to meet her gaze, slightly confused and surprised at the topic change.

“but this? this is unacceptable, miguel and i won’t forgive you until she forgives you. but i highly doubt she will and i do not blame her one bit.”

he doesn’t blame you either. he broke your heart and trust at once, how could you forgive him? he left you alone for 3 weeks with this life-changing situation.

she takes another deep breath and rests a hand on her hip. “now i don’t know if she’ll keep it or not, but regardless of her decision, i’ll support her.” she states firmly. “if she decides to keep it, i will support her and my grandchild, be there for them unlike you.”

that was a low bow but deservingly so.

“how do you know?” he asks meekly.

“peter.”

shit, you must’ve told him and mj. now you’re not the only person who wants him dead. a pack of wolves are tracking his scent and hunting him down.

his shoulders slouch as he exhales a shaky breath. “i was afraid , mamá… i was afraid that i would fail her, both of them… just like gabriel and i…” he chokes back a soft sob. “lo siento mucho… i was afraid…”

“i’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”

miguel nods in agreement. you’re the one he should be apologizing to and explain everything because you deserve it. get down on his knees and mumble an infinite amount of apologies.

“i understand you’re afraid but that doesn’t justify your actions and the way you hurt her indefinitely.”

“i know.” miguel nods immediately.

“then don’t expect forgiveness immediately.”

he knows that, no matter how much he hates it.

“like i mentioned before, i won’t forgive you until she forgives you.” conchata states firmly and he nods.

she goes to grab her purse and heads straight for the door, walking past him. stopping in front of the door, conchata turns to look at her son one last time.

“i’ll only say this once and you better listen.” she glares at miguel. “get your shit together.”

he gulps anxiously, agreeing internally.

“until she forgives you, you’re no longer welcome at my home.” pure sternness in her tone, causing a shiver down miguel’s spine. “she is, and the baby if she decides to keep it, but you aren’t.”

miguel did not blame his mother for coming to a decision. he deserves it for his despicable actions and you deserve all the support you need. you deserve a home where you feel loved and supported. the two things he failed to provide.

he could only answer with a simple nod. giving him once last glance, conchata leaves without saying another word. the tension left the room with her, causing miguel to finally exhale the breath he didn’t know he was holding for so long. now left alone to deal with what’s about to come next.

if he doesn’t get his shit together, miguel will lose you, and possibly the baby, forever.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ┈ ୨ ₊ ┈ ౨ৎ   ┈ ₊ ୧   ┈

since conchata left, miguel had been thinking of what words to say while anxiously waiting for you to come home from work. his mind was like a fucking circus, pure chaos and paranoia due to the fear of what will eventually happen. sitting there at the table internally freaking out. anxiety off the charts, flowing feverishly through his veins like a virus. one leg bouncing due to that invasion of anxiety.

no matter how many scenarios or thoughts his mind bundles up, it doesn’t seem enough. no words could cure the immense pain and suffering he caused you. it stabs miguel right through the heart painfully. he knows he fucked yet still scared shitless.

miguel has no fucking clue what you’ve been through in these last three weeks. how you dealt with this mess he left behind because he was a fucking coward. how many times you cried because of him. how many times you screamed in fury because of him. how many times you thought of killing him.

looking at his phone’s lockscreen, it is 4:30 pm. that’s the time you get off from work.

exhaling a shaky breath, miguel mentally prepares himself for the inevitable as he exits his apartment and heads down to the parking garage to wait for your arrival home. this is the moment and he can’t back out now, no way in hell he would ever. no matter how afraid he is, he has to do this.

as he makes it to the parking garage, miguel waits by the door. after about 15 minutes, his anxiety peaks once again as he noticed your car entering. those brown eyes follow the vehicle as you park in your designated spot. suddenly his breathing grows heavier as miguel sees your small silhouette exit the car. there you are, beautiful as always.

realization heavily kicks miguel in the balls about how he hasn’t seen you in three weeks. three weeks since he last saw your ethereal presence. three weeks since he heard your angelic voice. three weeks since he saw your gorgeous smile. three weeks since he last felt your touch. three weeks since he last felt your celestial skin. three weeks of hell without you.

he feels like he could cry right now. just seeing you in the flesh after three weeks breaks miguel’s heart because you’ve been alone this entire time.

it kills him to think that.

miguel was too lost in those sad, depressing thoughts to realize you standing there in front of him. those brown eyes shift towards your stiff frame, noticing your wide eyes of pure shock. you look like as if you’re experiencing a heart attack.

those piercing eyes of fury and hurt murders him on the spot. miguel can see the hurt in those forgives eyes. those same eyes that used to be filled with love every time they met his own. but there was no ounce of love left in them, only fury and hurt. your eyes are like that because of him. those same eyes that shed infinite amounts of tears because of him.

seeing your eyes filled with such hurt and fury makes miguel feel immensely guilty than he already was because he finally sees it. he finally sees the pain he causes you through those gorgeous eyes he adores so dearly. it shatters his already broken heart.

he wants to fall down to his knees, hug you so badly, break down into tears, and say a million sorrys.

but a million sorrys won’t fix everything.

right now miguel has to face the situation. he can’t hide in the shadows forever. he can’t hurt you anymore. he needs to face the consequences.

he has to conquer his fears.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @reverieblondie @nina-from-317 @kavimoo @aly29a2001 @lazyjellyfish300 @tojishugetiddies @aphinthestars @novelaaaaaaaa @imamexican @obessgurlll @deputy-videogamer @lovehadlovelost @agoddoesnotplead @saintdiior @whoopwhoppghost @tomalymme @skadiloki @asterrrrose @glossygreene @youcantseem3 @resident-clown @kutsipie @zuevcs @totorotales-08 @meowgirl1 @sukunash0e @sirendyes @leahnicole1219 @lisa-takeshi @yehet-moi-ohorat @slowlyshycomputer @wasitforrevenge @webshoootrz @f1-hoff @chaeriescola @espressopatronum454 @trocaderoisyummy @totallygyomeiswife @mcmiracles @celestialgarden23 @tatatida @whdhjfjvjvjfjdhsj @nocturne-light @xenop0p @juneonhoth ( if you’re not tagged, age/age-range is require since this fic is 18+, context for reasons why )

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[asmodeus-mydearbeloved]

Another day, another i'm bored so I'mma assign quotes onto Obey me characters again♡♡

- MC

"I will not be another flower picked for my beauty and left to die. I will be wild, difficult to find, and impossible to forget."

"I don't care if I fall inlove with a devil, as long as the devil will love me the way he loves hell."

- Lucifer

"All the hardest, coldest people you meet were once soft as water. And that's the tragedy of living."

- Mammon

"He is my brother. It doesn't matter we aren't related by blood."

"Who hurt you? My own expectations."

- Leviathan

"And when his halo broke, he carved the two halves into horns."

"I'm not the type of person someone falls in love with."

- Satan

"I am not my brother."

"You can tell how dangerous a person is by the way they hold their anger inside them quietly."

- Asmodeus

"It scares me sometimes, the emptiness I see in my eyes."

"I don't think people love me. They love versions of me I have spun for them, versions of me they have constructed in their minds. The easy versions of me, the easy parts of me to love."

- Beelzebub

"He's got a good heart, he really does. It's just been broken, alot."

"My stomach is like a black hole, craving everything in its path and never fulfilled."

- Belphegor

"A golden cage, is still just a cage."

"Only a monster can deal with another monster."

-Diavolo

"Watch my face as I pretend to feel no pain."

"I met evil when I was only a child."

- Barbatos

"We drink the poisons our minds pour for us and wonder why we feel so sick."

"The most dangerous person is the one who listens and observes."

- Simeon

"He wasn't fragile like a flower, he was fragile like a bomb."

"If I told you about the darkness inside of me, would you still look at me like I was the sun?"

- Solomon

"Something about you made me feel a little more alive and a far less lost."

"Mother, I have pasts inside me I did not bury properly. Some nights, your son tears himself apart yet heals in the morning."

- Lilith

"From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity."

"I hope my last breath is a sigh of relief."

- Raphael

"He is a weapon, a killer. Do not forget it. You can use a spear as a walking stick but that will not change its nature."

"You walk a fine line between beautifully macabre and uncharacteristically psychotic."

[floweringsweetheart2]

How can people not feel guilty when they're bought expensive stuff? /srs

I experienced poverty from all my childhood and I still do a lot in my teenagehood years, so I have never get to feel how it is an economically safe household environment. Like, I almost got to experience these in 2021 for idk a couple of months (4 to 7 mnths ig) because my dad was getting paid in US dollars (even tho he never stepped in the United States) but it was for a short time, so I really have no experience at all living a trustable and comfortable life with money.

It may sound weird but my dad gets paid around R$18K reais (brazillian currency, my dad's salary equivalent to US$3,1K and £2,4K), and that's actually kind of rare in Brazil, since less than 1% of its people earn between 15~22K per month, but the craziest part is my family can't enjoy any of it at all.

My dad has a company himself but it's only him, and he needs to spend around 4K a month due to all his company's taxes. I'd obviously be cheaper (when speaking only about some terms) if he had a lot more of coworkers and subordinates. But no, it's just him and him only.

He also lives far away in another city (the city's name is really specific and I don't want to share it online because it's still really close to where I live. So let's call it Atollia Reefs) so he is renting a room in some family's house. Room rent is not cheap with the shitass economy we have right now and it's getting even worse in Brazil of course, so it's hella expensive as it normally is.

But then we have something inusitative here. My dad rented a room nearby the construction site he was going to work on (he's an engineer btw) but then the other company he is in rn (the contract wasn't between individuals, it was between companies) moved the place the site was going to be in, so he spends lots and lots of money with lots of ubers because he has no car there obvi (the one tht he has stayed here) so... idk how much we can spend per month bc he has to spend a lot of money to continue to his job.

And now after the pandemic my mental state is pretty bad (fragile like a bomb, but not as a flower, you motherfuckers), like I'm probably just faking it (because I don't have a valid type of sh n stuff so im ok) but it's still bad and I have no self love at all so I can't just comprehend someone caring so much abt me to the pount spend a lotta their money into something I really don't need because I'm a horrible person....

Like, yea thank you for the gift but why the fuck did you do this?

[valyrra]

Umh hi! Can I ask for some... Kay/o x reader HCs?? I love him sm

Love your writing btw

💙🦾

Haiii sorry it took so long. This wasn't very cute of me but past weeks at work have drained my soul out.

KAY/O x reader

- In the timeline where he came from you were together as a couple. He never told you what has happened in the end exactly, but since he is here - that's all that really mattered to you.

- Because of that - he already knew that you are that one person for him. So Kay/o would just wait for you to learn that you in fact, like him, more than just a teammate or a soldier.

- Every moment with you for him is special. The quick response from you - is already making his code doing something funny inside of his processor. He couldn't understand it fully but he felt alive with you.

- KAY/O would talk a lot about his feelings with Brimstone. Brim is likely to be really surprised about the thing you two are having, but he wouldn't be against it in any way. You are an effective team and it is all that matters.

- Every thing that you are giving him - he saves and collects. He considers even the smallest things as gifts.

- And he would wear anything that you give him. Little bracelets, necklaces. He cherishes everything that making him feeling more like a human.

- The robot boy is pretty good at comforting people. Every problem you are having since he came to the team? Guess what! You are not solving it on your own. KAY/O would spend a lot of time trying to understand you and probably would help you out anytime since he doesn't really need sleep.

- He would pretend to sleep when he is beside you at nights though :)

- He considers humans fragile and protecting humanity is literally what he was made for - you would never need to be afraid of literally anything. Not on his watch.

- He would sometimes call you things like "Princess/Prince". He really enjoys thinking of himself as your knight in shining armour. (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

- Of course he would give you a lot of ♡ signs on his display.

- When the important dates are coming - he would need SOMEONE'S HELP to find something to gift you. Even Chamber is in the list of his helpers on this matter. A lot of his gifts would be things for self care. Blankets, scarves, bath bombs, candles, products for skin etc.

- He would like to watch you take a bath. No touching even involved. He would just sit and watch almost mesmerised by your beauty (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

- And yep. He knows the concept of beauty and considers you to be the most beautiful person inside and outside. And he would not hesitate to call you that, in private mostly.

- One time though you were dressed so amazingly for a party at the valo headquarters - he almost malfunctioned and Cypher would tease him about this for the whole evening.

- I also headcannon KAY/O to be 50/50 jealous. He doesn't like when you talk too much with other men, but thinks of himself confident enough since you always praise him. Just sometimes he is anxious about you liking "non-robots" a.k.a. "humans" more than him. Especially if it is Sova or Chamber ( and now Harbor. OR Reyna. He would literally boil ). You are quick to reassure him that he isn't right and you love his metal heart with all of your bloody one. ♥️

[br4inr0tx]

Greetings and Salutations ♡ meant to do this awhile back, but if you're still doing matchups I'd like to request a hazbin hotel matchup, if not that's okay feel free to ignore

My pronouns are She/Him and I’m Pansexual. I'm an INFP, sign being Scorpio. Im a 5'4 Hispanic female with a pear shaped figure and am a bit chubby. I have shoulder length dyed red hair thats messy constantly and gets in my face all the time which others tend fix for me for some reason. I’m an extroverted introvert, though it's really hard to speak to people or make friends as I suffer from paranoia and have scopophobia (I also have depression, and PTSD. I tend to dissociate/ feel as I'm not real) so it's rather intimidating to be around those who are new and I'm not comfortable with, I can be considered a non people person due to the fact I'm hard to approach thanks to my resting bitch face and keep my distance. It leads to many making assumptions about me / not liking me. My style consists of Goth/Grunge, and my interests align with my style as I love true crime, horror movies, gore, analog horror, induldge in the splatterpunk genre of books and love junji ito and have a few of his manga. I love finding and collecting little things for my friends and give it to them as a gift no matter what it is to the point my friends call me crow as a joke. When I finally become comfortable with someone I become very talkative and speak in a rather fast paced manner and tend to speak in both English and Spanish. I love to joke around with them and banter. Most of my humor comes off as rude or just fucked up, though I'll never joke in a manner that actually hurts the person and will apologize if I've overstepped. I’m not good with my temper however and can be pretty mean, or just go very quiet. If pushed far enough I’ll snap at anything and everything to the point I'm nothing but numb and the goal is to hurt the person. My favorite things to do for comfort / hobbies are drawing, reading, writing, playing video games (overwatch, dead by daylight, hollow knight) and or blasting music ( MCR, Get Scared, Deftones, Pierce the Veil, Souixie and the banshees, Mother Mother ). I’m a little clingy and possessive with those I love / am romantically involved with due to a lot of issues I need reassurance in any form of way it doesn't matter how big or small. I enjoy doing things for others and speak rather romantically and call them pet names. Dealing with insomnia I'm definitely awake most hours and am happy if someone is a night owl and spends that time up with me as night is likely my favorite time always having adored the moon and stars . I’m definitely a masochist and a switch though am guilty of leaning more towards submissive,,, ♡ - Cherri

you omg I remember you. thank you for the matchup on my end, I really appreciated it. :)

Your Hazbin Hotel matchup is.. Alastor !!

• This might be biased because you’re his wife, however, I just feel like the two of you would click. Husk would find you way too soft emotionally, Niffty wants someone more dominant, Angel is well..not attracted to any sort of femininity.. and Charlie and Vaggie find your gruesome interests frightening. Another person I thought about was Pentious,, but I think any parter would grow tired of his naivety and arrogant nature. And I just genuinely can’t picture you keeping up with Cherri-Bomb, light heartedly.

• So, that left me with this fucker. He has softer spots for certain people (as seen with Niffty and maybe Charlie) and when it comes to you he treats you somewhat like a..cherished pet? Trust me, you most likely would want to be put at that level than be on his shit-list.

• You’re so small and fragile..how could a tiny thing like you fall for him so easily- and not be intimidated? He teases you about it often, using you as an arm rest, or just by grabbing something atop the shelf just to show how bigger he is to you.

• Deep down, he loves you for you. He wouldn’t change a thing about you even if things about you he wishes you to get stronger from or at. Everyone has flaws, and he knows that. Learning from those flaws is something he wants to teach you. Perhaps you could do the same.

• For example, he finds some of your fears pathetic. As a high and mighty figure there isn’t much for him to fear, so its understandable. Though he might tell you to suck it up if he’s running low on patience. Other times he’s more forgiving.

• His style is more of a gothic Victorian thing. Or as Angel says; a pimp. With his New Orleans background I’d like to think he would dress similar to Dr Facilier from The Princess and The Frog.

• Point is, he enjoys a good dark toned style. Dress in something more of his style, and his jaw will DROP.

• He’s kind of tough,, he won’t watch movies with you, or watch anything really TV related. Though if theirs a live projection screening, or talk show on horror movies or true crime, he’ll watch or listen that way. I think he makes his rivalry with Vox really clear that way imo.

• Alastor doesn’t get this manga you read. The visuals are impressive-sure-but why do you read it backwards? And why is it all mostly pictures? Ironically, I see him reading them anyway just to understand them. He loves to learn if it partains to him.

• He takes the nickname "crow" to seriously, symbolism wise. Crow’s are related to death, bad luck, revenge, and most importantly..pride. Really anytime he sees one it compels him to think about you, and in return maybe even get you a thoughtful gift. In his prideful way he changed it into a nickname you should be proud of. He tends to just call you “my crow.”

• Fast or slow talking, Alastor is very quick witted and usually understands every word you’re saying. He has very fucked up humor and would gladly join you in bickering about morbid things.

• As a overlord, he doesn’t really have time for insults. All "water off a ducks back" n stuff. He makes an effort to teach that to you as well. Though that effort quickly becomes slightly hypocritical when someone says something to you while he’s right next to you. I mean, the audacity, right?

• Again, being an overlord he can’t show any sense of vulnerability. That being said the only way you can see him even close to being cuddly is in your shared bed, shortly before the two of you fall asleep. He might settle for slight hand holding, but even then only with a limited amount of people.

• Alastor is a healthy man, physically, and makes and effort to get a proper sleep schedule. He’s going to help you do the same, even if he has to use one of his spells or sing you to sleep. Those times are the times you’d see him cuddle you the most.

• Most of the pet names he uses are “dear”, “love”, “darling”, and “sweetheart”. Simple, yet with his charming and smooth voice, very effective.

• Imagine the two of you dancing to Arm Tonite by Mother Mother. He admits it’s not his type of music, but something about the lyrics pulls at his heart strings.

• Or even imagine a cute date night with the two of you..first he takes you out to dinner at a VERY expensive restaurant, and then takes you out stargazing. It’s all different from what it used to be with the red sky and all..but he hopes it’s just as enjoyable.

• I know it’s canonical he’s asexual, but I think he’s still romantic? Especially in the additional comic where he somewhat flirts with some ladies. Though the fandom, per usual, throws that out the window.

• Still, he gives more dominant vibes for any relationship. He’s used to being at the top for most things, so why should it just stop at power?

• The two of you are peas in a pod. Your own little twisted fairy tail. Whatever I could use to describe to cheesy romance- you get it. A match made for in hell. <3

[gettinbarbecued]

𝕌ℕℂ𝕆ℕ𝕍𝔼ℕ𝕋𝕀𝕆ℕ𝔸𝕃   𝕄𝕀𝕃𝔼𝕊𝕋𝕆ℕ𝔼𝕊  | ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

DATE: october 16, 2021 LOCATION: bedford-stuyvesant ( bedstuy ), brooklyn, new york. CAST: alejandro, fagin, daniela. 

author’s note: hey besties, here’s part two. part one can be found with that link if you’re up for it ♡ note that this one gets a little dark in theme for a minute, so if you’re not in the space to read it but want a quick recap just lmk and i’ll water it down in a sentence or two ily | piece once again involves addiction as well as parental death. {2/2}

         ALEJANDRO HADN’T BEEN TO BEDSTUY for  any  length  of  time  since  he  had  met  his  family  five  years  ago  -  the  second  anniversary  attached  to  that  day  making  it  hard  to  forget  and  even  harder  to  go  back.  one  of  the  many  reasons  why  he  was  so  grateful  to  fagin  and  to  his  siblings.  they  pulled  him  out  of  a  place  that  he  physically  and  mentally  didn’t  want  to  be  in  and  transplanted  him  to  manhattan  to  clean  his  shit  up. that  day ,  he  told  fagin  he’d  never  step  foot  in  half  of  brooklyn  again ,  every  block  a  reminder  of  a  time  he  never  wanted  to  visit  again.

         but  time  changed  things ,  one  could  say ,  because  fast  forward  half  of  a  decade  and  alejandro  was  walking  into  the  mr.  kiwi  by  the  old  apartment  he  used  to  live  in.  as  a  kid  he’d  take  his  sister  to  get  a  smoothie  and  a  banana  every  morning  before  school.  she  always  wanted  peach ,  pineapple ,  and  strawberry.  and  while  it  was  nowhere  near  his  favorite  flavor  combination ,  it  was  what  he  got.  he  threw  a  five  dollar  bill  on  the  counter  and  walked  out  without  collecting  the  change.

         working  with  orion  at  snake  eyes  casino  had  put  more  money  in  alejandro’s  pockets  than  a  poor  man  knew  what  to  do  with.  that  was  the  thing  about  coming  into  any  amount  of  money  when  you  were  used  to  getting  by  with  crumbs.  it  made  him  remember  the  mission ,  why  they  were  all  in  elias  to  begin  with ,  even  if  that  had  somehow  gotten  lost  along  the  way.  payments  to  fagin ,  while  consistent ,  were  far  less  in  amount than  the  man  was  comfortable  leaving  him  with  after  everything  he  had  done.  it  only  made  sense  this  extra  cash  would  be  streamlined  straight  to  him  to  cut  out  this  fucking  debt  to  sykes.

         because  his  siblings  didn’t  know  the  extent  of  it.  the  amount  in  everyone’s  head  was  stressful  as  it  was ,  and  sometimes  it  felt  like  it  only  scratched  the  surface.  thousands  of  dollars  he  owed  to  this  man  -  and  while  alejandro  was  always  curious  why ,  he  didn’t  ask.  common  sense  told  him  it  wasn’t  his  business  and  blind  loyalty  made  reasoning  obsolete ,  anyway.  so  when  fagin  told  alejandro  exactly  how  much  trouble he  was  in  and  asked  him  not  to  repeat  it ,  he  didn’t.  he  wouldn’t.  the  amount  of  secrets  fagin  kept  for  al  over  time  meant  he’d  take  every  single  one  of  his  to  the  grave.

         and  that  was  what  these  trips  were.  working  so  often  allowed  for  him  to  disappear  for  a  few  days  at  a  time  without  question ,  so  it  had  been  easy  so  far  to  do.  it  was  at  the  request  of  the  old  man ,  of  course  -  alejandro  argued  constantly  that  sykes  would  be  paid  off  faster  if  he  wasn’t  buying  fucking  plane  tickets.  but  it  turned  out  these  trips  weren’t  just  for  fagin.  these  secrets  weren’t  just  for  his  benefit.

         the  last  time  alejandro  was  in  new  york ,  fagin  dropped  a  bomb  on  him ,  and  then  another ,  that   he  still  hadn’t  quite  processed .  the  time  away  from  bedstuy  left  holes  in  an  already  fragile  vessel  of  memories  -  maybe  on  purpose.  but  when  the  name amalia  left  the  man’s  lips ,  most  of  it  came  flooding  back.  ❛❛  she  passed  away  last  spring,  ❞  were  words  that  pushed  him  into  a  corner  much  too  dangerous  for  him  to  be  in .  a  mourning  period  he  couldn’t  bring  himself  to  face  head  on.  he  didn’t  even  want  to  talk  about  it  -  but  after  silently  mulling  over  those  words  and  holding  up  his  hand  to  announce  he  wasn’t  going  to  speak  on  it ,  the  following  sentence  turned  his  most  prominent  tactic  of  staying  clean  -  staying  the  fuck  out  of  the  scene  of  the  crime  -  something  he  couldn’t  do  anymore.  ❛❛  she  left  a  child  behind,   alejandro.  one  who  i  think  could  use  her  dad  right  now.  ❞

          that  was  why  he  was  back  in  bedstuy  now ,  sipping  on  a  smoothie  and  walking  down  lafayette  with  teddy  bear  in  his  other  hand.  it  was  probably  corny  as  hell ,  but  walking  in  empty  handed  almost  fel t rude.  nervousness  was  overwhelming  and  alejandro  wasn’t  quite  sure  what  to  do  with  it.  while  it  had  been  a  few  weeks  since  he  found  out  he  was  a  father ,  it  only  just  seemed  to  hit  him  as  he  walked  up  to  the  door  of  the  appropriate  apartment  building  and  pressed  the  button  marked  5j.  now ,  there  was  no  turning  back,

          he  didn’t  expect  daniela  to  be  the  one  to  open  the  door,   clad  in  a  lacy  blue  dress  and  curly  hair  tied  in  pigtails.  for  a  moment  he  thought ,  i  wouldn’t  let  a  kid  open  a  door  like  that  alone ,  but  who  was  he  to  nitpick  right now ?  and  how  would  he  know  what  he  would  and  wouldn’t  do  as  a  parent ? 

          ❛❛  are  you  a  stranger ?  ❞   she  asked  him  curiously.   ❛❛  nana  said  i’m  not  supposed  to  talk  to  strangers.  ❞   al  laughed  -  what  a  loaded  question  that  was.  how  was  he  meant  to  explain  that ,  yeah ,  he  definitely  was  a  stranger  -  but  he  shouldn’t  be.  he  liked  to  think  he  wouldn’t  be  in  any  other  situation.  at  her  question ,  alejandro  crouched  down ,  and  in  attempt  to  make  her  think  about  the  answer  on  her  own ,  he  replied ,   ❛❛  i  don’t  know ,  man.  you  tell  me  -  have  you  met  me  before ?  ❞

          daniela  thought  for  a  moment ,  lips  pursed  as  she  tapped  her  cheek  and  examined  his  face  closely.   ❛❛  i  don’t  think  so ,  ❞  she  admitted. 

          ❛❛  yeah ,  i  don’t  think  so  either.  guess  that  makes  me  a  stranger ,  huh ?  ❞  standing  back  up ,  he  took  a  deep  breath.  he  could  say  goodbye  and  walk  away  right  now  with  the  knowledge  that  she  was  safe.  she  was  cared  for.  a  perfect  little  girl  in  perfectly  capable  hands.  but  he  couldn’t  possibly  walk  away  that  easily  -  not  without  letting  the  castillos  know  he  was  there.

          ❛❛  hey ,  why  don’t  you  go  get  nana ?  ❞  he  finally  asked  her  with  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders.  she  had  to  follow  the  rules ,  right ?  don’t  wanna  teach  her  to  talk  to  strange  men  who  knock  on  her  door  without  her  grandmother’s  permission.   ❛❛   i’m  hoping  maybe  she’ll  let  you  talk  to  me ,  anyway.   ❞