#(it's long. i'm exhausted. i want it posted. i'll probably go over it in a couple of days but for now it gets thrown at the world)

[dunmeshistash]

How do you feel about Milsiril? Like what do you think of her interactions between the canaries, her goals, her intentions and morality? I keep seeing people with mixed feelings about her, some saying she's just toxic or morally grey or doing bad but with good intentions or that she's just a mentally ill and literally so much more, also with the comic about Otta calling Milsiril love for her children/Kabru as just love for a pet, I always saw people take it at face value and say yes, Milsiril did love them more as pets instead of children, did she take up raising/adopting non-elf children because she felt like none of them could ridicule her like the elves did because they didn't know what an elf was supposed to be like (and also because they were children) or did she inherently view them as less? I mean the canaries and I'm pretty sure almost all of the cast in dungeon meshi have some sort perspective on different races especially because how they were taught about them, i just think it was interesting to finally see someone interpret it as Otta just misinterpreting Milsiril, I'm just really interested in her, i think shes neat, sorry for the rant!

Ooh, well to preface this, I hadn't really realized Milsiril was such a controversial character before my last post, I kinda live under a rock. She's really not a character I had given much thought besides what I wrote there before it, but I can do my best to express what I have thought since, with sources for it. I'm not sure what order to go thru so I'll just go by manga appearances and then extras, this will probably be quite a long post

This is the first time she shows up in the manga (ch55) Kabru is wondering about what future they might have if the elves take them into custody because of the ancient magic, he thinks about Milsiril as a get out of jail card, and mentions "There's a chance they would make us become permanent resident of the elven lands." with the image of Milsiril holding him. I don't think that means she would be the one to not let them leave, since this would probably be an legal issue, and the fact Milsiril lives away from other Elves. It does set up that Milsiril is quite overprotective tho, with Kabru's reaction to her teary hug. (rest is under a cut)

The next time she shows up is in ch61 right after Kabru falls down the dungeon along with Mithrun, he faints and has this flashback

She's being her overbearing self treating Kabru's small injury as if its something you need to be in bed for, hand feeding him like he's a toddler, and when he insists he wants to learn how to fight and be strong like her, she hugs him revealing to us for the first time her arm scars, she's cleary in distress too, so you wonder "what has happened to her?"

It continues in the next pages, as she tells him to stay there, where it's safe and there's cake, and describes the bad things he might encounter. Until he tells her he will go with or without her help

Honestly this is a Kabru we don't see often, this is the version of him that is usually in thought bubbles, he's blowing out in frustation over being smothered and demanding straight up what he wants, instead of trying to manipulate Milsiril, very blunt for him. Milsiril seems to flip a switch into battle mode, when she decides to train him for real.

I really thought this was funny, the visual of these cuddly toys and this Mom that was being so soft just a second ago completely flipping into something menacing is very amusing to me. She says "I'll give you an exhaustive, thorough training in how to use a sword... until you finally decide that you're ready to give up." although it sounds cruel, it seems she really trained him as best she could to make sure he would survive the dungeon. If he couldn't take the training with her there was no way he would be able to take on the dungeon, but he could, so much so that he managed to make her let him go. I can see this being seen as her trying to prevent him from going but to me it seems more like some tough love from a traumatized war veteran in this case.

The last thoughts he has is admitting his Mom was right, "Not only were there plenty of traps, monsters, and malice... but there were times when I felt so hungry and cold that I couldn't stand it."

And he concludes with "I never once thought that I wanted to go back there. That room where I could eat all the cake that I wanted..." While I can understand the interpretation that he means he would rather go thru all this than go back, perhaps cause he hated it there, I think it's rather a statement to how committed he is to defeating the dungeon, the visuals show him in rubble vs him in a soft big bed, the rough reality he fought to be able to face and the comfyness of what his life could be. Plus is mirroring exactly what Milsiril said to him. Admitting she was right about the bad things but that he won't give up for the safe easy life he had.

After that visuals of Milsiril are used while Kabru tries to sus out Mithrun but she shows up again in Mithrun's backstory.

Here she's straight up called Gloomy, which wasn't really the version of her we saw so far, gotta remember this is also how Mithrun saw her and that she was called gloomy as a way of bullying. Kabru mostly cuts off her part in the story until the end, when she's the one to find Mithrun after he was eaten by the demon

She doesn't really care much for Mithrun as we see in some extras, and she was ready to mercy kill him, but she is also the one to spare his life. This could be seen as her thinking he can still be of use, and it's how it sounds with how Kabru tells the story, but I do think this was also a merciful act, Mithrun was in rehabilitation for 20 years after being saved, by the time he was actually useful for anything Milsiril had already left the canaries and adopted Kabru.

Now for extras... About Mithrun/The Canaries, Milsiril was cleary someone that hated the people around her. This is her extra in the Adventurer's Bible

Milsiril seems to be the type that hates "popular kids" so to say, her description says she was bullied by other elves for being so introverted so I believe she holds a grudge against people like Mithrun that seem to have succeeded where she failed. But realizing he was a twisted person like her seemed to make her feel more sympathetic towards him, that's why I think she really did act with mercy when she saves Mithrun, he's now someone she sees as similar to her, she sees he also suffered like her

Her decription also mentions she left the canaries specifically because she was disgusted with how the Utaya situation was dealt with. Yet it seems like she came back to help Mithrun with his rehabilitation once she quits.

There's an interpretation to be made that she did this only to get "revenge" on the demon since she just saw the destruction of Utaya, and that she's using him. On the other hand maybe she wants to help him find a motivation to live, she's no longer a canary and she has time to actually help him now. I don't know which one is the truth but it's not obviously something self-serving if you ask me. Especially in the context that right before this scene Milsiril admits she wishes they could have talked before.

My interpretation of her relationship with the canaries and other elves is that she's someone depressed that was mistreat for her 'quirky' side, the dolls are clearly one of the ways she used to cope with anxiety/depression but it only caused her to be bullied by her own kin, she's the daughter of an important family and it's shown in other extras, including one about Mithrun, that nobles often send out the kids they don't want around to become canaries. It's an easy way to get rid of someone undesirable and I think it was the case for Milsiril. (Pattadol even assumes her parents love her less than her sisters for sending her to join the canaries).

No wonder than that now that she's finally free from the canaries she chose to seek her own happiness away from the society she felt she could never fit into, she clearly likes to take care of children too, I think it's mean to assume she only likes them because she feels superior to them when there's no indication that this is the case.

And I don't think it's a coincidence she's so overprotective of Kabru after Utaya, it's literally the tragedy that was the breaking point for her, and he's a surviving small child from that tragedy, Milsiril cares about Kabru and wanted him to have a comfortable safe life after everything he went thru...

This ended up getting way too long so I'll make second part tomorrow about the rest of the extras and Kabru, and some other things I've seen said about Milsiril, but to answer the questions...

I don't think she treats her children as pets, Otta is just salty she was called out for dating like Leo Dicaprio.

Every single dungeon meshi character can be called morally grey because they all have flaws that in our world can be considered unforgivable, but they don't live in our world. To me Milsiril is doing her best in the context she lives in.

Who even is neurotypical in dungeon meshi, Milsiril is yet another flavour of a neurodivergent traumatized character among so many.

I believe she thought of the other canaries, especially Mithrun, as the same type of people that were cruel to her, probably because some of them really were, but that she generalized it to the point she thinks of all of them as bad by default. You can only get hurt so many times before you assume everyone will hurt you.

Part 2

[surfinminho]

Things that turn them on

Hyung line | maknae line

Wc: 1.3k

Warnings: gun play, anal, sub!skz, mommy kink, slapping/hitting

authors note: I'm back!! please bear with me, this was a draft since February so it might suck and I haven't wrote since lmao 😭 idk when I'll post the second half of this, but I'll try not to go AWOL again😪

Chan

You had him wrapped around your finger, he doesn't usually act like this. Being a leader of a group doesn't usually allow him to behave this way.

But when he's with you? It seems as if ever thought in his head disappears. He tries to not let it show especially when he's with the members but he can't help himself.

Him changbin and jisung were all in the studio, doing their tasks while sharing lyrics they came up with.

His complete focus was on this one assignment, something just didn't seem right. In the late nights when he was awake on his laptop, trying to get the lyrics right you would come. Calming his nerves and making him take a break. He needed that stress reliever again with the way he felt like he was going to cry over this demo.

his phone buzzed, sending vibrations in his pocket.

"Hi chan ^^ I'll be home a little late. Like late late, I picked up a extra shift. Hope you don't stay at the studio for too long. Love you 🩷"

He sent a quick message back, running his hands through his hair for the nth time.

The clock ticks to 1:30 am. Exhaustion took over him. Eyes threatening to close.

"I think it's time to call it wraps" changbin spoke up, shutting his notebook.

Chan and jisung both agreed, going their separate ways.

When chan got home, he felt so different. He took his usual shower, eating a snack, even managing to get a little more done on that track. As he got into bed, his nose was filled with the scent of you. He didn't even know when he started tearing up, or when they started pouring out.

To his luck, you came home at that time. Taking off your shoes and hanging your coat up. You didn't bother eating anything, having eating at your job.

You expected chan to be asleep when you walked into your shared room, not him crying in the dark.

"Chan? What's up?" Your socks padded against the wooden floor. Sitting on the edge of the bed.

"N-need you mommy" he tugged at the bottom your shirt, hand reaching underneath it.

It was something you guys did when he was really stressed. You didn't mind it, as it calmed him down.

"Need me? How so?" You maneuvered yourself to sit on top of him, hands grounding yourself by holding his thighs.

"Wan- wanna suck your tits. Please?" Tears were still seen in the corner of his eyes. Threatening to fall once more.

You lifted up your shirt, unclipping your bra in the back, letting him attach his mouth to one of your breasts. It's easy for him to relax and fall asleep just like this. Though, he doesn't think he'll let anyone know Abt his little secret.

Minho

I think I've mentioned this in my other ot8 post but honestly I see minho into gun play. Like if it's minho giving it, (que mafia trope) he's definitely a person in charge or In high rankings. And the more well known you are the more someone wants your head on a platter. He would never want to hurt you, that should be a given. But the thrill he gets from pressing a gun against your neck as his fucks you can give him jerk off material for days.

It was in the spur of the moment, you were perched on his lap in his office, and you were asking him questions about things he had on him, random I know. But it sparked a conversation about guns and one thing led to another and your chest is pressed against the desk, leather glove covered hand covering your mouth while the other has the gun pressed against your neck.

"Shut the fuck up will you?"

If it was minho receiving it, it would probably be a enemy situation. You had known him but jobs and other things tore you guys apart. Saying you missed him would he an understatement.

But when your boss said you had to interrogate him, you got a little giddy.

When you saw him in your basement, you had your hand on your gun. Even though he's tied up, doesn't mean you can't use it.

"Hello there" he smiles at you attempting to wave.

"Let's get this done, just tell us what you were doing." You stood in front of him, gun pointed at his forehead.

"You have the gun there as if you're gonna shoot me. Nice joke bunny." He was taunting you, which for some reason you couldn't take lightly.

You pryed his mouth open with two fingers, shoving the gun into his mouth. You heard him gag on it while you push it to the hilt.

You eyes trailed down to see him hard, straining against his pants.

"Really? Hard because of a gun? Pathetic."

Changbin

He wants you to fist him. That's it that's the sentance.He has almost an infatuation with pegging anal gaping and what not.

He was big and buff, and you.. well you weren't. If anyone was nosy enough (his friends) they would think he was a Dom. And nothing's wrong with that, until he starts talking about how strong he is in bed. What a lie.

When you guys were back at the dorms, you had him face down ass up on the bed. Working him open with three fingers, you made him cum once by sucking him off then again by fingering him. You had him whining like a little bitch. It made you smile.

"Binnie, baby give me another one. Or are you gonna fight me back? Since you're so strong." You rolled your eyes at the last statement.

"I- I said I'm sorry!" He shoved his face into the pillow, hoping to not wake up his flatmates.

"Are you really sorry? Do you need me to pick up the pace? Or add another finger?" He clenched on your fingers as you said that last sentence. Moaning your name as his came for the third time.

"Need me to add another one hm?" You laugh, easing in your pinky.

"No- no more, mommy stop!" You knew he didn't mean for you to stop, he had his safe word. But the thrill of it makes it better.

"Baby, we both know how you love to get your tiny hole stretched, don't hide it."

Hyunjin

I see hyunjin as a hard sub. The whole package if you may. You were hesitant at first, not wanting to hurt him. But soon you got use to it. Inflicting pain on someone was not on your years bucket list. You weren't gonna say you dislike it- actually you were the opposite of that.

Some of his close friends (who happened to be yours) said maybe you are being too rough. Then theyd point to the purple marks scattered around his neck and wrist, but he knows his safeword. He would tell you if it was too much.

He was being good this week, and you decided to give him a reward. It wasn't as usual for him to get a reward, mostly because he's always acting like a piece of shit. But that's besides the point.

You let him have your ass.

"You ready?" You question, digging your nails into his waist.

"Yea" he pulls his slick fingers out, replacing it with his cock.

He presses his cock head against your hole, whining when he couldn't push pass his tip.

"Can't- too tight" he threw his head back, clawing at your waist.

"Baby.." you smiled, grabbing his chin.

"How about we use that brain of yours? Or are you already fuzzy?" You roughly let go off his face, throwing him a bottle of lube.

"I'm feeling nice, try again."

He repeated his actions from before, opening you up a little more.

"Thank- thank you" he read your mind, I mean how could you spoil him and not get a thank you. How ungrateful.

"So warm" he whines, bucking up into you.

"Shit- hit me, mommy- mama please I want it"

[greyskyflowers]

I want a really specific Luffy/Sanji/Zoro fic where it's focused on how Zoro is probably not able to be numbed or knocked out.

I want to do a post at some point about how Nami, Usopp and Zoro are the humans of the crew. The ones without devilfruits, no genetic stuff, and completely human.

You can absolutely argue that Zoro has whatever the fuck is going on with the demon stuff but until that's clearly discussed I'm going with the human thing.

Back to Luffy/Sanji/Zoro.

I'm really sold on the idea that Zoro burns through numbing and pain medications like it's nothing.

He can be knocked out or made completely numb but it requires a unreal amount of medication, enough that the amount is usually unavailable or risks overdosing him and making him very sick.

So, how many times has Chopper had to dig out shrapnel and bullets while Zoro was completely aware and felt everything?

Or stitched him up while Zoro held the skin together for him?

How many times has Chopper had to rebreak bones that had healed wrong if they were separated for a period of time and Zoro didn't set it right?

How about cauterizing wounds?

Concussions?

Blood loss?

What it he needed surgery because of a wound, and Chopper had to cut into him without being able to numb him at all?

Oooooof

I fully believe Chopper has had to do some of those. However, when Zoro is too out of it, or it hurts to much to not jerk away or fight back... I think Luffy and Sanji would have to hold him down. The only two with enough strength to get him still enough that Chopper can do what needs to be done without worry.

Robin could be added to that, I think. I like to think Zoro and her have a strong friendship and she's seen enough shit to know sometimes things have to be done even though it sucks.

What sounds does someone make in a situation like that? How much can the human body take?

If he was out of it enough, would he plead with Luffy to let him up? He would absolutely call for Luffy when everything hurts and I'll die on that hill.

It would be a blessing if he passed out but how long would he be passed out? Just long enough for everyone to breathe before he was awake again and struggling?

Is it worse when he's quiet? Awake but so exhausted he can't even try to jerk away?

The rest of the crew hearing everything but knowing better than to go try to help.

Having to act like they can't all hear anything and desperately hoping that Zoro passes out soon.

And Zoro is Zoro. No one really talks about it. They're all aware, of course, but Zoro never brings it up or complains.

He's actually really good at holding still, clenching his jaw and curling his lip back in a pained snarl. Every muscle in his body tense and his back in a rigid arch.

This isn't new to him. He's always burned through this stuff quick but it's definitely gotten worse as he's gotten older and stronger.

Luffy and Sanji only have to hold him down for the really bad ones. It's more of a precaution, a comfort of all of them.

They're the only ones to hold him because even blind with pain, Zoro knows them.

Even when his world narrows down to hurthurthurt, he won't fight them the way he would someone else. He trusts them to be strong enough that he can be a little weak if needed. Only a little.

Luffy being cautious and untrusting of anyone other than crew while Zoro recovers and gets his feet back under him.

Possessive and protective in the way all captains are. A extra edge to it because it's Zoro and Zoro is his in a way no one else quite is.

Sanji hovering, always something in his hands because his way of caring is food. The pain usually takes away Zoro's appetite but it's the best way Sanji knows to heal.

Luffy curled around Zoro when he naps on deck or when they go to sleep at night, trying to make sure nothing hurts and reassure them both that Zoro's okay.

Both of them running a critical eyes over Zoro because infection is a whole beast of its own. They want to make sure that if there's even a hint of one, they catch it as soon as possible.

Touching Zoro constantly because if they feel tense muscles they know he's hurting and if he's running a fever they can work on cooling it down.

🌊

The strawhat crew holds a grudge against a few people. Most of them obvious but always at the top is Garp, Blackbeard, Judge, and Mihawk.

Because they don't know exactly what went on while they were all separated for 2 years but they hold Mihawk accountable for Zoro's eye, even if he wasn't the one behind that particular scar.

They know Zoro felt all of it and they weren't there with him. And anyone who is responsible for that kind of pain to one of the crew goes right on the shit list.

[captainsophiestark]

A Much-Needed Vacation

Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Summary: Elijah Mikaelson is often up to his neck in vampire business and drama, especially when his brother's around to add more. Fortunately, he has someone in his life who can make him take a break when he needs it.

Word Count: 1,703

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Hey babe, do you want some coffee?"

I poured myself a mug, waiting to hear a response from my husband, Elijah Mikaelson. When the silence stretched on with no answer, I turned, a concerned frown on my face. I found Elijah right where I'd left him, hunched over papers at the table in the study.

"'Lij? Hello?"

Still, he didn't stir. I moved closer, waiting for him to look up at me, but he just kept his gaze locked on the papers before him. I could see his lips moving, mumbling to himself about whatever nonsense he was pouring over. With all the drama and difficulty his family kicked up or got thrown into in this town, it was hard to keep track.

I was about to tap his shoulder and, if that didn't work, shake him, but before I could his phone rang. He startled, his attention finally shooting up, and glanced at the caller ID before picking up.

"Niklaus. What is it?"

I huffed and rolled my eyes. No doubt, this would be some other world-ending problem that absolutely could not be taken care of without Elijah's full attention. I absolutely loved my husband and his family, but sometimes, they were well and truly ridiculous.

After a few moments of intense conversation, Elijah hung up and set the phone on the table with a sigh. He leaned back in his seat and ran a hand through his hair before turning to me. In all the time I'd known him, I'd never seen him look so absolutely exhausted.

"I'm sorry, my love. Were you trying to ask me something?"

I frowned, chewing on my lip as I took the seat next to Elijah. He took my hand in his, attention now fully on me, as I scanned his lined face.

"I'd ask if everything is okay, but I feel like I know the answer."

Elijah sighed again and shook his head.

"It's always some new problem in this city. At least this time Niklaus isn't asking me to do anything, yet. I just need to make sure he doesn't dig himself a hole he can't get out of while I'm not looking."

I watched Elijah carefully as he took his breather, staring at the table and all the papers spread out before him. He looked exhausted, showing his thousand years of age for one of the first times I'd ever seen, and I hated to see him like this. Slowly, a plan started forming in my mind.

"'Lij... you said none of this is anything pressing you have to help with, right?"

"Not yet, at least."

I smiled, although Elijah didn't catch it. Probably for the best. He knew me well enough that it would tell him something was up.

"Okay. Then just wait here a second. I'll be back, and then we're going for a drive."

He turned his gaze to me now, eyes slightly narrowed in suspicion. I just beamed back at him.

"...What are you planning?"

"Guess you'll just have to wait and see!"

Without waiting for a response, I popped up from my seat and headed for the stairs. I could feel Elijah's eyes following me, but evidently he was too tired to actually get up and investigate what I was doing.

As soon as I reached our bedroom, I threw some clothes into a duffle bag for each of us, enough of everything we'd need for a few days. I paused long enough to quickly check my phone and, luckily, found us two seats on the next flight to Florida.

We didn't have much time to spare before the plane left, so I headed back downstairs with the bag over my shoulder, aiming for Elijah. He always took care of me, and now, I was going to do the same. He clearly needed a break, and I was going to make sure he got it.

"Alright, get up," I said, coming to a stop in front of my husband. "We're going for a drive."

He tore his eyes away from his papers to look me up and down, his eyes lingering on the bag on my shoulder. When our gazes met, he raised an eyebrow in question, but I just grinned at him in answer.

"I take it if I try to tell you I need to stay and work on this, you'll do everything in your power to make me get up and leave?"

"Oh yeah."

He sighed, but pushed back from the table anyway. He stood in front of me, close enough that we were almost chest to chest, and I know he didn't miss my heart speeding up a little at the closeness.

"Alright then. Let's go."

I got Elijah loaded up in the car, then started heading for the airport. I knew it wouldn't be long before he asked where we were going, but as far as I was concerned, I'd already gotten him to the point of no return.

Elijah didn't say much as we drove. He just watched the city go by around us, clearly trying to figure out where we were going. I could tell the moment it clicked as he inhaled deeply, then turned to me.

"Are you driving us to the airport?"

I just grinned.

Elijah shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. I just laughed.

"You clearly need a break, Elijah. As your loving partner and best friend, it's my job to make sure you take one. Especially when I know you, and I know you won't take one on your own."

Elijah just shook his head again, but when I glanced over at him I could see the smile growing on his face all the same.

"So, then... where are we going?"

"Somewhere nice and warm and relaxing, far from all this vampire bullshit."

****************

A few hours later, Elijah and I were stepping out of the airport and into the warm Florida sunshine. I'd booked us a hotel on the beach, and after a quick pause to drop off our bags and change into swimsuits, Elijah and I were walking hand in hand down the beach with our feet in the Atlantic ocean.

"I think we need to do this more often," I mused as we strolled. Elijah took a deep breath in and let it out slowly, a smile remaining on his face as he looked at me.

"I agree. And thank you for organizing this, today. Sometimes it can be hard to leave in the middle of... everything my brother gets involved in."

"I know," I said, giving him a small smile and nudging his shoulder with mine. "But that's what I'm here for. What kind of spouse would I be if I didn't return the favor when you made me put down the books and study guides every once in a while when I got a little too intense at school?"

Elijah chuckled, pulling me a little closer to him and moving to wrap his arm around my shoulders instead. He kissed my temple and we came to a stop, Elijah and I facing each other. I beamed up at him, leaning in closer for a real kiss, when I was interrupted by the sound of Elijah's ringtone.

We both scowled in sync, Elijah sighing before reaching for his phone. I raised an eyebrow at him and he shot me an apologetic look, but a glance at the caller ID had him picking up anyway. Klaus, again.

"Niklaus, what-"

This time, I couldn't take it. I cut Elijah off as I snatched the phone out of his hand, holding it to my own ear instead.

"Hey Nik! Is this a life and death emergency?"

"What? No, it's a matter of keeping this town in check. Now put my brother back on the phone."

"No. He needs a break, so he's on forced vacation for the next forty-eight hours. We'll be back on Monday morning, but in the meantime, consider Elijah's phone off. And I swear Nik, if you call him again, I will hurl this phone into the depths of the ocean where it will never be found again."

I heard Klaus take in a deep breath, the likes of which I only heard before he launched into some threatening tirade, but I'd known him long enough that I wasn't about to let it get to me.

"Nik, you know me. I don't put my foot down like this often, and I even help you guys with your power brokering bullshit when I can. But this time, I'm not budging. Elijah needs a break, and I need to see my husband outside of when we're threatening other New Orleans factions. You can give us two days."

Silence on the other end of the line. Elijah and I made eye contact as he raised an eyebrow at me. I just shrugged, and a second later, I heard a low growl from Nik.

"Fine. You get two days. But if I don't see you on Monday morning-"

"Don't worry! You will."

With that, I hung up and slipped the phone into my own pocket, with a grin at Elijah. Not many people could get away with hanging up on the Big Bad Wolf himself, but I'd been a part of the Mikaelson family for long enough that I could. Elijah shook his head at me, but he had a gigantic smile on his face nonetheless.

"I don't think I'll ever tire of you doing that to my siblings," he said. I grinned, then leaned in for a quick kiss. Elijah wrapped his arms around me, following after me as I pulled away.

"I hope you know I meant what I said about hurling your phone in the ocean if Nik calls you again."

"Oh, I know. But a phone is a small price to pay for a weekend like this, with you."

"I'm glad you agree."

I gave Elijah a little smirk as he wrapped his arms tighter around me, slowly closing the distance between us again. I didn't hesitate to help him, losing myself in our kiss as the waves splashed gently against my calves. I was going to make the most of this little peaceful haven Elijah and I had made, for as long as I possibly could.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

TVD/TO Taglist: @elenavampire21

[cerridwen007]

Unwind.

*Images are from Pinterest and are used for aesthetics only.

Pairing: Boyfriend!Dieter Bravo x f!reader (afab)

Word count: 4.1k (18+) MINORS DNI!

Summary: Your boyfriend, Dieter, has come home early from a project. Hoping to surprise you, he instead gets a surprise of his own when he discovers what you like to do unwind alone from a long day.

Notes/warnings: Smut, fluff, DUB-CON (one party is under the influence of ouid but they are both very into it), established relationship, accidental pervy!Dieter, accidental exhibitionism, pussy drunk Dieter, masturbation (f and m), sex toys, descriptions of smoking the devils lettuce, mentions of other drugs, porn with little plot, oral (f!receiving), piv sex, cumplay, they are both just super horny and sweet for each other, swearing, no y/n. 

a/n: My first Dieter fic, I can’t remember really where or when I got the idea for this fic, but I knew it just screamed Dieter. This is probably quite up there with the filthiest thing i've written, and i'm not sorry, lol. Also, I apologise for my very long absence in posting writing. Life just got the best of me, and I lost all motivation pretty much to write. Ngl I don't think this is my best work, cause I'm a little rusty but it's fun and I enjoyed writing it. But anyway, I hope y'all enjoy, and any interactions with my posts mean the world to me. Love yall so much! <3

*******

Now that his months-long project had wrapped up early, all Dieter wanted to do was surprise you. The both of you had long played the game of hiding behind corners and hiding in all sorts of spots to try and scare each other, all throughout your relationship. 

But more often than not, it was you that made his heart jump out his chest, and a long list of swear words leave his mouth as he over-dramatically clutched his chest. To which you always laughed so hard you cried a little at another successful scare and his reaction. “I'll get you next time.” he mumbles, under his breath, a cheeky grin on his handsome face as he plans when best to get you back.

So now, with an upper hand, he was hoping that he could give you a big fright and jump out of your closet when you least expect it. But what happened was so much more surprising.

You had just gotten back to your shared apartment after what felt like the longest week of your life. You had been drowning in deadlines at work and were so glad that it was friday evening so you could finally get a proper break. After ‘gracefully’ hanging up your jacket on the hooks near the front door and tossing your keys into the bowl on the entryway table, you immediately take off your bra as you walk into your apartment. Throwing it on the back of one of the barstools sitting in front of your kitchen island.

A loud sigh exhaling from your mouth as the pressure is released from your sore shoulders. It had been a long day at work before you ran around afterwards, getting a whole bunch of errands done that you had been putting off. So you were exhausted and understandably so. 

You kick off your shoes as you walk through the messy apartment, not bothering to put them away where they belong or tidy up the growing mess just yet. No, first you need to unwind from the long ass week you had. Besides, the weekend started tomorrow, and you would have plenty of time to clean up then and before Dieter came back a week and a half from now.

You sighed again sadly thinking about your boyfriend. God, you missed him. He had been gone about 3 months now, and each day didn't get any easier. When the two of you were together, you were attached at the hip. Spending all the time you could together; talking, laughing, cuddling and fucking.

So it was quite a change the last few months going from spending almost all your time with your favourite person to almost none, except the few short calls Dieter managed to find time to have with you amongst his very busy schedule. 

You tried to remind yourself of the fact that Dieter would be back before you knew it, and then you could once again spend all the much needed time together that you wanted.

You opened your fridge looking for a snack. You could have to tie your over till dinner that you would order yourself later, a treat for the end of a busy week. 

You picked a few string cheese packets from the chilly shelves of your fridge before closing it shut with your hip as you walked off into your living room. Sitting down with a big “oof” on your couch and immediately sinking deep into the plush cushions as far as you could.

Dieter's heart was beating fast as he watched you through the horizontal slats of the storage closet door. He waited with baited breath, trying to find the perfect time to jump out and give you both the scare and surprise of a lifetime. He had been lucky enough to arrive an hour or so before you got home, which gave him plenty of time to get ready and pick the best hiding spot before you arrived.

He bites his lip, trying to hold back the chuckles wanting to escape as he imagined your hopefully soon to be shocked face. He watches as you get comfy on the couch and can’t help but look at you with adoration, even with dark circles under your eyes and your hair slightly untamed, you looked like a dream, the prettiest thing he has seen. 

You quickly finish your cheese sticks, hungrier than you thought you were, and toss the wrappers on the coffee table. Yet another thing to be cleaned up tomorrow. You let out a long yawn and stretched your arms above your head. A cheeky smile graces your mouth as you realise how you're going to spend the rest of your night unwinding.

You waste no time in reaching into the draws of your coffee table before you and pulling out a dark green bong with small red flowers decorating it that Dieter got you for your birthday last year. You put it down the top of the coffee table briefly as you pull out a matching glass box with your stash in it and a red grinder. 

Your fingers are working swiftly in their practiced work as you get your first cone ready. You pull out your black zippo lighter with your and Dieters' initials and the day the two of you started dating engraved on the front. You flick your thumb over the flint wheel a few times until it ignites. You take in a fraction of a breath before putting your mouth on the end of the glass tube, tilted towards you.

Holding the flame over dried grounds, watching as the white smoke slowly crawls up the neck of the bong. You let the smoke enter your lungs, filling you with warmth.

Your lips only disconnect when all the smoke is gone and you breathe in a little of fresh air. You hold it in your mouth for a few seconds before you tilt your head back and exhale all the hazy smoke. Your loose fist covers your mouth when you let a small cough. 

You decide to do one more hit before you put down the ‘vase’ and let your head rest against the center of the back of the couch. Your legs spread wide, carelessly, as you wait for the drug to slowly take its effects. You groan as you lie back on the couch with a mouthful of smoke. You tilt your head up to look up at the ceiling as you let the hazy white cloud float from your parted lips.

Reaching down beside you, your fingers find something from out under your couch, a rectangle box. You open it to reveal a matte purple 8 inch, life-like, dildo. Fit with veins, balls at the base, and all. Your mouth waters just from the sight.

You have been extremely horny as of late. You always are when Dieter goes away for long periods of time, and you don’t have him to give you toe-curling orgasms all the time. You can never make yourself cum quite as hard as Dieter can make you come, but not from lack of trying. You lazily scoot down the couch a bit so you can take your pants and underwear off. 

Dieter eyes bulge in head when he realises what you about to do and he swears his heart skips a beat when he sees that you're wearing his boxer briefs, even more so when he sees a glistening line of arousal, saturating them. He palms his now fully erect cock through his jeans, as his eyes connect with your glistening folds.

You take the hefty dildo out of the box and half haphazardly toss the container to the ground. Your breath hitches in your throat as you make quite work of sliding it through your folds, the tip catches deliciously on your clit.

You toss it to the side for a quick sec and reach down to your bong on the coffee table, after taking another cone you put it back on the table and grab the remote of the table, flicking on the tv and putting on one of your favourite vibey sex playlists on spotify on.

You sigh as you lean back and you take off your work shirt, leaving you in nothing but a flimsy old tank top, which you nipples prominently stick out of and some cosy socks. You pull your breasts out of your shirt and start groping yourself while watching the screen playing at a low volume, with hazy eyes.

You soon pick the silicone dick up again and slowly tease yourself by tracing around your lips and through your dripping seam. Your head lulls on the back of the couch. You tease around your aching hole with the tip before pushing in ever so slightly. Your eyes roll back for a second as you moan at the slight stretch. “D-dieter.” You softly call out.

His eyes bulge out of his sockets watching you, his hand unconsciously reaching down under the elastic of his pants to feel his rock-hard erection. He swipes his thumb over his weeping tip and has to bite back a groan.

You pump in so slowly, only till it reaches halfway before you pull it out further again. You continue this to help work yourself open.

He watches you intently, stroking himself to the slow rhythm youv’e set for fucking yourself. He uses his other hand to pinch his base every few minutes, to keep from blowing his load, so close just from the sight of you.

God, he doesnt even care about scaring and surprising you anymore, all he cares about is watching you as you fuck your self, quietly calling out his name as you take your time in getting to your release. He has half a mind to just jump out now and fuck you himself but the sight of you spread out for him, caught up in your own little pleasure-filled world is a sight to good to be true. 

He studies your form like he doesn't know it like the back of his hand, like he hasn't spent hours upon hours coaxing the prettiest little moans and whimpers from you, caressing over every single inch of you.

His eyes will never grow tired of the sight of you, your centre gushing with arousal, your eyes fighting to stay open, your mouth on the other hand, fighting to stay closed as a beautifully orchestrated ensemble of curses, moans, groans and his name come flooding out of your mouth.

His mouth waters as the ring of your arousal grows thicker around the base of the silicone cock. He missed the taste of you so much, while he was away. He loved spending hours between your legs, until you were shaking and overstimulated and had to beg him to stop. Crying out “Dieter! Please!” as you struggled to push away his starved mouth.

Your head is feeling quite light now, and the pleasure is rushing through your veins as you increase the speed of your strokes. You keep chanting Dieter’s name, over and over again, softly as if it will summon him somehow. Well shit, maybe it does.

Before he even realises what he is doing, his hand is fumbling for the doorknob of the closet, and he is stepping out, sweaty, and disheveled, all just from watching you. Your heart stops for a second as you hear the closet door near you open, your brain unable to come up with any sane reasonings until Dieter walks out flushed and sheepishly in a trance, consumed by his love and lust for you. 

“Dieter?” You whisper, shocked to your core, that he is standing in front of you and still not entirely convinced that he isn't a hallucination caused by your hornyness and longing for him. And also maybe the drugs too.

He swallows harshly, his throat dry. All the liquids in his body seemingly have traveled lower in anticipation. You're about to jump up from the couch and squeeze him till his ribs break, but he beats you to it, sinking to the floor in front of you and hugging your calves tightly. As much as you missed your baby, you can't help but feel a little awkward, having been caught masturbating and still with the dildo between your legs, no doubt.

Before you can even clear your throat and try to explain yourself, Dieter starts kissing along the tops of your thighs, up your stomach, then sternum, up your throat till his lips lock onto yours. He kisses you with such meaning and passion as he tries and conveys all the feeling of how much he missed you and is so glad to see you now into a single kiss

“God. I. Missed.You. So. Much. Baby.” He says in between quick pecks before once again consuming your mouth with his own, trying to make up for all that lost time he wasn't able to taste your lips on his.

You break the kiss with a gasp, looking down to your legs where Dieter is spreading them to see the current state of your throbbing pussy. “Fuck and it sure looks like she missed me too, huh sweetheart. Just oozing and weeping, begging for my touch. Ain't that right baby?” He lovingly teases.

You grin and spread your legs even further to let him get an even better look at you swollen, glistening folds, still clenching around the girth of the dildo. He reaches his hand up between your legs and pulls the toy in and out of you slowly, eliciting a whimper from you.

“Fuck.” He groans, completely enthralled by the sight of you, and the growing creamy ring of arousal you have created around the base of the cock. He continues to slowly pump it in and out of you, as you squirm above him, your once lost orgasm now coming so close to grasp again. 

“Dieter...please.” You croon, begging him not to stop as you feel the edge of your high starts to wash over you.

“Atta girl, fuck just like that. Cum for me baby.” He softly demands, as he works the now shiny dildo hard, fast and deep into your cunt. He sits up a bit on his knees and hovers over you.

Leaning his head to the side he starts to suck on your pulsing clit. His eyes roaming between your leaking hole and trembling thighs, up to your red, cloudy eyes struggling to stay open with your brows furrowed above them. Your mouth agape, curses and whimpers as your orgasm hits you full force. 

He watches with blown eyes, mouth hanging open, nearly drooling at the sight of your back arching off the couch, as the waves of your orgasm crash over you. He slowly pumps the cock in and out of you, prolonging your high till your legs close firmly around it. He carefully opens them back enough so he can pull out the cock.

He palms himself as he inspects the aftermath, mouth watering from the sight and smell of your creamy residue slathered upon the tip to the flared base of the slick silicone. He sticks out his tongue and brings the base, where most of the cum has gathered in a band round the bottom, to his mouth. You watch stunned and too aroused to speak as he licks it clean of your sweet drippings. 

“God baby, missed the taste of this sweet pussy.” he groans. You clench around nothing as you watch him, eyes fluttering behind closed lids, messily tongue the silicone like one might lick brownie or cookie batter of a spatula.

After he finishes with the lower half, his lips pink and shiny, he wordlessly brings the tip up to your face. You grin devilishly before opening your lips wide and sucking the fat head into your mouth. You too moan at the sweet taste of yourself, not often shared directly from the source but usually from Dieters tongue do you taste the sticky release of your climax.

He palms his painfully hard cock through his pants, before spreading your thighs wide once again, and feasting on the remaining juices. You moan as best as you can with the cock down your throat, before removing it from your mouth and sitting it beside you as you watch Dieter's beautiful curls bob up and down between your legs. 

His tongue slides from your quivering hole to your clit, licking flatly. He alternates between sucking your nub, to fucking into your wet hole.

You fight to keep your thighs open, to not crush his head or let the gorgeous sight below you be hidden, but you can’t any more as the drug haze inside your veins seems to have taken all your strength. Sensing your struggle, Dieter curls his arms around your thighs, holding them open and drags your center closer to his hungry mouth.

You whimper at the dull pain that you feel from his tight grip holding you apart, just under your breaking point. The aching soreness from your legs being spread so wide, only adding to the intensity of pleasure rolling around in your stomach. 

He alternates between eating you messily, and slowly picking you apart. Motorboating his lips and nose between your folds, and precise and firm licks on your clit while curling his thick fingers up into that sweet, sweet spot inside you, that has you moaning, incohesive gibberish from your pleasure and drug intoxication.

Even with Dieter being the sober one (surprisingly), he sounds just as wrecked as you, if not more. So drunk and intoxicated on you and your pussy, something he and you both thought he was deprived of way too long.

Soon you are reaching yet another, and surely not the last of night, orgasm. Your thighs shake with the intensity of the pleasure seeping into your veins. Your lips go from being an wide ‘o’ shape to a cheesy wide grin as the dopamine and endorphins flood your system. 

Dieter makes sure he licks up every single drop of your essence before he rises off his knees slightly and encases you in a massive, big bear hug. Feeling what little air was left in your lungs, you giggle along with Dieter breathlessly as you squeeze his middle just as hard.

He lifts his head to plant the softest, sweet kiss on your lips before rubbing his nose against yours. You take a deep, tired breath in and your eyes flutter close, his delicious musky scent filling your nostrils once again. 

“I missed you so much too, baby.” You whisper. You admire the deep crows feet around his eyes as he grins, his dark rich eyes sparking as he beams with happiness, love, and lust. His smile turns into something that of the devils as he begins to caress your body.

He lifts up your arms and takes off your tank top, throwing it on the ground somewhere. Before his lips lock onto your pebbled nipples. Groaning as he squeezes and plays with the other one, before switching his mouth over. After leaving your tits a glistening, saliva-covered mess he descends further down your body, his kiss-bruised lips planting themselves on every single inch of skin he can see. 

“Mm need to fffffuck you sweetttt thing, and ffffeel that heavenly p-pussy wwwrapped around me againnn.” He mumbles, his lips smushed against your stomach. You softly laugh and nod your head. Getting the gist of what he was saying and knowing him well enough to know what he said that you didn't catch.

“Please Dieter. Please fuck me. Need… to feel you. Missed you…. and your cock…. so fucken much.” You garble out in your own form of a coherent sentence.

Dieter can’t help but whimper listening to you, his cock pulses with need for release as he listens to your confession (although mumbled) of need for him.

He can’t wait any longer.

He reaches under your ass and lifts you up and shifts you so you're lying on your back longways on the couch. He quickly shucks his shirt off, getting a little stuck in the process as he does so. You both giggle and laugh as your hands go up to help him. He soon pulls it off and makes quick work off, shoving his pants and boxers off his legs.

Both of your eyes are shining with something so deep and emotional as you admire each other's naked bodies. A sight seen countless times between the two of you but one that neither would ever grow sick of. You reach up and stroke your hands up and down Dieter's front, feeling his strong chest and plush belly that you love very, very much. He whimpers as your hands trail down into the coarse hair at the base of his leaking cock. 

Even as he towers over your relaxed form, there is an air of submission to him still. The way his eyes are glazed over with no other drug than love, pupils blown wider than when he was higher than a kite on LSD. His eyes brows slightly furrowed in, his chest moving fast as he pants. His bottom lip trembling with anticipation of connecting your bodies together so intimately once again how they should be. How they would always be if Dieter got a chance. 

He shakes himself out of his love trance and lowers himself over you, his forearms resting on the couch beside your head. You close your eyes and kiss him deeply, giving him a piece of you that no one but him gets to have. Literally and spiritually. He groans almost pathetically when you reach your hand down and swipe his tip through your once again dripping folds. 

Your squinting and red eyes look up at him pleadingly, just begging to put the both of you out of the agonising wait and finally feel each other. He smiles a soft smile before he lines himself up and slowly pushes into your pulsing cunt. 

“Ohhhh….ohhh…oh…yeah, honey.” He moans out as he slowly bottoms out in your cunt. You gasp as you adjust to his considerably large girth. Something you truly will never fully get used to. Your hands clutch as his biceps, grounding yourself as your fluttering pussy adjusts to him.

“God….fucken hell, baby. You feel somehow even better than I remember. Jesus christ.” He pants, his face screwing up from the pleasure just simply inside your beautiful heat gives him. He desperately tries to think of anything else other than your stunning form below him and just made for him cunt, feeling already so close to blowing his load.

He reaches down and pinches his base and quickly begins Jack hammering into you fast and hard, to hopefully get you off before he ultimately finishes way quicker than he intended to.

“Oh f-f-fuck, Dieter!” You cry out, eyes squeezing tight at the immediate hard and fast pace Dieter has set while fucking you.

“Im s-sorry b-baby. Fuckkk. You just feel too damn good. I just n-n-need. Ahhh. Need you come before I-I-I do.” He stutters. 

Your heart and cunt clenches around, eyes rolling back from the pure ecstasy coursing through your as Dieter repeatedly stuffs his fat tip into the squishy part deep inside you.

“OoOoh shit, baby. Can feel you clenching real good around me, god damn!”  He groans.

You lay there bonelessly, whimpering as Dieter’s fingers circle you clit just right. Sending you over the edge into the deep depths of mind-numbing pleasure. Your body shakes as your orgasm comes crashing down and over you, with Dieter only seconds after.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh oh oh shit,” He wails out with every rope of cum that spurts out of him, his hips almost unconsciously thrusting themselves as deep as they can go every time, only stopping on the last rope of cum, burying his now spent cock deep into your pussy. He lets his full weight drop on top of you as he catches his breath from his own high. 

You breathe out with a soft smile, feeling such bliss and warmth from Dieter being here with you. He moves his head from your neck and looks at you. You both smile wide and break in hearty chuckles, before kissing each other.

You relish in the feeling of Dieter’s chest booming with laughter pressed up against yours, feeling his beating heart beat under you hand, showing that he is here with you now and just Dieter in general, his body fitting on top of your like a puzzle, like two pieces that you never would’ve known hadn't always been connected together like this. 

And that’s exactly how you fall asleep, entwined in each others arms, connected in all ways possible, smiling to yourself as you listen to Dieter’s soft snores and you feel his heart beating strongly against yours, before you two let the sweet blissful temptations of sleep take you too. Everything was going to be okay now that your love was back with you. 

*********

[cloudsmateria]

college roommate - leon kennedy x reader

nerdy!reader x leon kennedy

synopsis: you and leon have just started university, finding yourself in the same university visit, he comes and visits your dorm as he's been struggling in his classes. you kick it off, and you invite each other into your different, interesting lives.

words: like 4500

disclaimer: this isn't proof-read and i actually do need to proofread it and i will when i finish it, this also isn't finished. so if u don't wanna read it now and wanna come back to it when it's pristine and complete be my guest, the edit of this will be very edited like literally whole chunks of texts will be different, i just wanted to post something

content warning: kissing, bit of angst, slight smut/almost smut, sexual themes

A loud knock rings through your door, if it had come even a second later you wouldn’t have heard it at all as you were on a one-way path to passing out on top of your notes. 

“Come in.” You mumble, picking your head up off of the desk and watching as a dirt-blonde hunk of a boy you don’t recognise comes through. Maybe it’s one of the frat boys trying to get to know all the girls in his dorm house. 

“Hey. Can I ask a favour?”

“Who are you?”

"I'm Leon, I saw you in my engineering lecture the other day and you looked like you understood what was going on. Then I found out you were in my university building. So here, I am. Help. Please. I’m going to fail and we’re only 3 weeks in." His desperation makes you laugh, something you were shocked you could do in this dazed state after a mind-boggling 8 hours of completing work.

"Oh Leon, I'd love to but I think if I even think about that engineering class for another second right now I might actually drop down and die."

"It can wait, you busy right now? Other than you know, spilling drool all over your papers?”

“Yeah, I was just about to go spill some on my pillow too, I'm exhausted." You say, not entirely joking, and begin to gather your things.

“I get it.”

“We have another engineering lecture tomorrow anyway so you can just catch me then."

"You sure, though? I mean I'm already here." He shrugs and picks up a book from her bookshelf. "How do you read any of these? There are no pictures." You laugh again. 

"You're asking me how I read physics books when you take engineering… Are you sure you picked the right course? You know, you can read it if you want, and would probably benefit from it. If you can even read."

"No thanks, I'll just get you to teach it to me tomrrow. I’ll see you in a bit, Einstein.” 

"You should watch what you call me if you want me to tutor you, that’s usually not free."

"Oh, but the thing is I don't think you're actually going to make me pay for anything. You're too nice for that."

"That's a very bold statement to make to a stranger."

"You'll come round eventually."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

"Can I just ask you another question? I'm not going to stop annoying you until you answer it the way I want you to."

"Go on." You sigh.

"Have you eaten today? Cause I haven't and I'm hungry."

"Leon-"

"Please."

"Okay, okay, God, you're persistent. Gonna give me a headache." You groan and sit up.

"It’s worth it, you'll need me to keep you sane later in the year."

"Oh really? You think we’re gonna stay friends that long?"

"I know you've got your nerdy brain, but I've been told I have a great personality." You can't tell if he's implying something with that disgustingly stupid joke or if he really is just an idiot. To be fair, he's funny and managed to pull you out your the room you had been hibernating in for the past few days to get ahead of work. You suppose there are worse people you could be forced to talk to.

"Whatever. Just get out of here." You push him towards the door.

"You're not going to eat with me?" You roll your eyes and lock the door, getting dressed into something that wasn't your pyjamas.

…

Now here you were, eating outside with this boy from your lectures when you had just wanted to be at home sleeping. Although it was nicer than you thought it would be, he had insisted on buying you an energy drink to keep your eyes open as you were eating in some random burger shop.

"How come you're struggling?" 

"Been going to too many parties, I've got different priorities."

"..."

"What?" He says defensively.

"Don't make me slap you. You can't be stupid because you got into this university, you're wasting your potential."

"I am not!"

"You're struggling! We're only 3 weeks in! I mean, come on, Leon."

"I don't understand what your problem is, maybe you need to live a little."

"That is rich coming from you. You're going to peak in college and fuck up the rest of your life if you ruin your chance now. And I live fine right now, I go out often enough and put the rest of my time toward my course, like a responsible human being."

"So you're boring?"

"So you're an idiot and can't plan for the future?"

"No, I'm not." He smirks. "And also, I never said I couldn't plan for the future, just that it isn't the only thing I want to focus on."

"Okay, fine, that's it. This is your problem, I'm not tutoring you."

"Got under your skin?" He smiles.

"I'm serious. You're smart if you got into this school, but you're wasting your talent partying and sleeping around."

“You’ve only known me for 20 minutes and you’ve managed to start an argument.”

“I just don’t want to waste my time. If you want me to help with assignments you need to make an effort, and if you want to be my friend, you’re also going to need to make an effort because I’m not going to care about someone who can’t even care about themselves.”

"I care about myself. Why else would I come to you for help on this?"

"Because you can't do it yourself and your friends are too stupid to ask them for help."

"No... Well... Okay fine, yeah that sounds pretty accurate. But in all honesty, I do care about my grade, that's why I'm coming to you. Now you know my intentions, I beg talk about something else, this entire conversation is reminding me of my mom."

"Like what?"

"Like, there's a party next Saturday, and I think you should come with me. You’re pretty entertaining."

"Oh, Leon. You're so clueless, it's pitiful."

"You have to go to the party, it will be fun."

"I have been to parties, I've gone to 2 since the start of the semester. But we have assignments to work on this week."

"One more little party isn't going to kill you. It'll be good, and then we can do the work."

"That's a very backward mindset." 

"You'll thank me, trust me."

"You say the reason you’re struggling is because you’re going to many parties, and immediately proceed to invite me to a party." You shake your head and laugh. “You are something else.”

“So are you coming?”

“I’ll think about it.”

… 

You and Leon had been going to the lectures together ever since, having lunch at points when he wasn’t hoarded by his friends and even managing a few study sessions into his schedule. You came 5 minutes early for the engineering lecture the next day. Flipping through the textbook notes to top up on your pre-reading beforehand, you had right at the back as Leon begged you to over text the previous night to sit there rather than the front so he’d feel comfortable sitting next to you. It doesn't take long for people to start filtering in, and eventually, that blonde-headed boy pops up next to you, leaning his head on your shoulder immediately. 

"Didn't get enough sleep last night." He mutters.

"Up studying?"

"You know me so well." 

“I'm not even going to ask what you were doing." You sigh, fully believing he had either gone clubbing or to another party last night.

"I promise you, I was studying. And you can ask me all the questions you want, I'll try my best to answer. I did go a little off track and I'm not doing well at it but your inspirational speech convinced me to try a bit."

"Really?" You ask excitedly, looking down at him. "Leon, that's great!" You feel his cheeks crease into a smile against your shoulder at your enthusiasm.

"You're more excited about it than I am, that's cute." He chuckles. "Keep talking, my head hurts, your voice helps."

"The lecture starts soon."

"Don't care." 

"I’m not going to talk over the lecturer." You say, flicking his forehead.

"It's just a lot, okay? I'm trying my best, but I might have reached my full capacity last night." He sits up and sighs, rubbing his temples.

“Welcome to university."

"Yeah, whatever. Can we go back to your room after?"

"Sure."

"Thank you."

"Of course." 

The professor finally steps into the lecture hall, and everyone quiets down, preparing for the lesson.

Halfway through, Leon couldn't help but pass out on you again. Your body went rigid, trying to make sure his head wouldn't fall off your shoulder. You pick the paper off of his desk, dragging it toward you as you start to write notes on your own and his paper so he won't miss out on anything.

He's surprisingly cute when he's not cracking annoying jokes and snapping back with snarky remarks. He was even making you lose track of the lecture a bit.

After class, you wake him up and walk him back to your dorm with him, chatting and catching him up on what he missed briefly. When you think about it, you're surprised you only met him yesterday. He feels like someone you've known since secondary school, or maybe he just treats everyone this way. Either way, you wouldn't complain about spending time with him.

"So, we're alone. What do we do?"

"Study?" You say, throwing him a pencil and paper. "Don't ask me stupid questions like that again."

"Come on, we just got out of an hour lecture, we basically already studied."

"A lecture that you slept for half of-"

"And that you caught me up on after."

"We need to make up the time. Now come on, let's work."

"But-"

"Now, Leon."

"Ugh."

…

The next hour wasn't as bad as you had expected it to be, you could still get your work done while simultaneously teaching Leon that content he missed out on. His demeanour quickly became enthusiastic when he saw how proud you were when you understood a concept, and you were genuinely impressed, he caught onto things quickly. After an hour, you both took a break sitting on your bed, him replying to some messages on his phone.

"Hey." You say, poking his arm to draw his attention.

"What?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"Making the effort to try, even if it is just a little bit."

"You're definitely making more effort than me." He smiles, leaning his head on your shoulder again.

"If you want to sleep you should just go home, you must be exhausted."

"I'm not leaving you in this depressing room, I'm keeping you company."

"I’m not keeping you from anything? Your phone was blowing up a second ago I assume you have somewhere to be."

"They can wait, I want to stay around for a bit longer. I like the change for once."

"Change?"

"It's quiet, I can think for once. You’re different from the people I’m around smart and stubborn,”

“So you’re aware of the poor choice of people you hang around, you had me fooled for a while.”

“Wait I’m not done, and even after all of that, I can tell that you're a little shy which is adorable. Oh, and my favourite part is how easy you are to annoy."

"I am not."

"You're blushing right now, I can feel your cheek getting hot. Adorable."

"Don’t you even close your mouth?"

"You know I can't, come on, it's not like you mind."

"Oh my god."

"Admit it, I'm fun to be around."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Tell me what you think of me."

"What?"

"Tell me, come on. Please, I'm dying for validation."

"Well. You're nice, and I've never seen you without a smile on your face, it's refreshing.”

“A little more… I know you got it in you.”

“You're not as stupid as you make yourself out to be,. And I honestly can't tell if I'm special or if you treat everyone else this way because you make me feel way more important than I really would be for someone like you."

"You're special, trust me. And that's a stupid question to ask. Do you want a list of the people I've met? The people I’ve made friends with?"

"What?"

"I can count on one hand the real people I've managed to keep around and one of those is my dog. Don't worry about that, because I know you’re gonna be on that list too. I know you think that I have so many friends and I'm surrounded by people all the time, but they're all fake. They're just fun for parties and clubbing when you have nothing else to do."

"But-"

"It's true." He looks at you, his expression becoming serious for the first time since you've met him. "And I've got to tell you, you're different."

"Different?"

"Yeah, you're interesting. You're not fake, and you're actually doing something with your life."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that, I think you’ve just surrounded yourself with one particular type of person, and now you’re shocked when you meet someone who’s not an idiot."

"Come on, I've seen the work you've done in these past 24 hours. You were working for at least 25 of them.” 

"You know how to flatter me."

"That's another reason why you should hang out with me more."

"Oh, and why's that?"

"I'm not afraid to admit how much I like you, Einstein. Makes you feel good, doesn’t it?"

"I can't even think about what I should say to that." You say, laughing and burying your head in your hands. "God, you're a mess."

“I suppose, yeah. You’re changing that though.” He lifts your chin up to face him, smiling at your red cheeks. “See? So cute.”

"Why do you have to keep saying things like that?"

"Because you react this way." He grins.

"I hate you."

"Let me ask you something again. Are you going to go to the party on Saturday?"

"I don’t think so."

“Since I’ve got the chance, I think I can change your mind.” He smiles and pulls your face a little closer, close enough for him to feel your shallow breaths against his lips.

"I-" You can't find any words, you're stunned. He's gorgeous, and you can't deny that, but the idea of kissing him feels wrong, you can't do it. Not right now. The thought of getting with someone you're starting to have feelings for is setting off alarm bells, the alarm bells imprinted by your bad experiences from secondary school of guys playing with your emotions. No matter how much your heart is screaming you want to, your mind is screaming no. 

"You're gonna go with me right?" He whispers.

"Okay." You say hoarsely, your legs desperately pressed together.

"Good girl." He smiles, getting up and putting his shoes on. "I'll see you on Saturday." He says, before leaving.

"I'm screwed." You mutter.

… 

Saturday finally rolled around. You weren't even sure how much time you spent with Leon the day before, but you knew you wanted more.  This was starting to become a concern for you. You remember last year, when you were hurt so bad you pledged to never fall for someone again. You can't do this, not with him. You know Leon is exactly that kind of guy, he’s charming, an athlete, with too many friends for his own good, someone who has no reason to be associated with you unless he wanted something, and was patient when it came to getting it. 

And yet, here you were, wearing a simple little black dress and the heels Leon said would match. You pray that the feelings are cut off here, hopefully he sees you as just a friend and just likes to tease. But a little part of you has a sliver of hope that maybe this is real.

Leon came to pick you up from your room, as he was only a floor away. When you opened the door you were met with Leon dressed in a black bottom down with the top two buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up which definitely made you feel some kind of way.

"Leon, hi." You say, overly aware of the fabric hugging your skin, you rarely wore tight clothes. 

"Wow." His eyes were stuck to everything that wasn't your face.

"Hey! My eyes are on my face, not my chest."

"I know."

"Leon!"

"Just admiring the view." You ended up crossing your arms to try and hide a bit of your figure.

"Can you stop looking?"

"You look great, don't worry." He says.

"Whatever."

"No, I'm serious. I mean it, you look amazing. Just relax and have fun, okay?"  He puts his arm around your waist, pulling you close. "You look hot. And it's only going to get better. Just try to have a good time, I'll be by your side the whole time.”

"I've been to a party before, you don't need to baby me."

"I know it’s just this one is a big one. They always end in a mess. I've had a couple of close calls with the police."

"That's not what I'm worried about." I'm worried about what I might end up doing with you, she thinks.

"Just tell me if anything makes you uncomfortable and we can go." He smiles and leads you out of the dorm building and into the street.

"How far is it?"

"Only a few minutes away." He says, leading you along the sidewalk.

The walk wasn't too far, it was about 20 minutes of you both drinking from a wine bottle for some pre-game. Time seemed to fly by as you came to the house. Whoever was hosting this party, probably one of Leon's friends no doubt, was rich. The house was huge and the whole thing was vibrating with the music that blasted through it.

"We're here."

"I think it’s going to collapse.."

"Wait until you see inside." He grabs your hand and drags you in, the house packed. You didn't recognise anyone and felt a little intimidated as Leon led you through the crowd of people, pushing them aside. You couldn't believe there were this many students in the town.

He stops at the kitchen, handing you a drink. You hadn't gone to a party this big before, and that was voluntary, this was just too much. You drink it in one to hopefully get you drunk enough to gain a bit of confidence and hand it back to Leon for it to get refilled.

"I didn't know there were this many people here."

"There's usually a lot." He smiles, handing her another drink. "Don't worry, I'll be with you the whole night. You take a shot before starting to sip on the more tame drink Leon had gotten. 

"What do you want to do first?"

"Let’s go find some of my friends.He says, taking your hand and dragging you through the sea of people, most likely dancing, grinding, or drinking.

He pulls you into the living room, finding his friends from one of the lectures and joining in on their conversation. You're introduced and you talk with them, they're all quite funny and sweet. You were happy to have found a fun little group.

The rest of the night is spent with them, the five of you getting progressively drunker and drunker and talking about more and more stupid shit before someone suggests the group should go and dance, you immediately go and hide behind Leon. 

"Dancing is definitely not my thing." You whisper.

"You have to come."

"No way."

"Please." He says, looking into your eyes.

"Why?"

"I want you to."

"Leon."

"If you hate it, I'll make it up to you. Please." He whispers, and you sigh, giving in. "I know you'll enjoy it." He smiles and leads her by the hand into the living room where everyone is.

"Everyone's too drunk to be paying any attention anyway." He says, and the group joins in on the dance. 

After a few more drinks the alcohol started to hit.

"Isn't so bad, is it?" He says after the first few minutes, watching you find your rhythm.

"No, it's fun."

"See, told you."

"Don't let it go to your head, I'm just drunk."

He smiles, spinning you so your back is pressed against his, the two of you continue to dance. He leans down and kisses your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist and grinding into you.

"Leon-"

"It's hard to control myself with you, almost kissed you that time I convinced you to come to this party, could tell you weren’t sure though."

"Because I thought we were just friends."

"That never lasts long, does it? Did you really think it was going to stay that way forever?" He says, running his hand down your thigh.

"We're drunk." You mumble, leaning your head back onto his shoulder. God, you wanted it. You were trying with everything you had to rationalise with yourself. He knew what he was doing.

"That doesn't change the fact that you're irresistible. And that's not the alcohol talking. I've been wanting to do this for a while."

 He smirks, spinning her back around to face him and lifting you up, your legs wrapping around his waist.

"Let's go upstairs,"

"Leon-"

"Shh." He puts a finger over her lips and leads her away, finding the stairs and walking up. “Stop doubting yourself. One thing about you is that you always say no, or doubt yourself, let’s change that for once.”

He takes you to the first room he finds, happening to be a bathroom, opening the door and stepping in, kicking it closed and locking it. He sets you down and starts to kiss you, the alcohol making it a lot more forceful than usual. You kiss back, letting him guide you and set the pace, his hands sliding over her body. 

"You're so fucking beautiful." He mutters, his lips trailing down to your neck. You feel the pressure of his hands pushing you backwards. Your back hits the counter, he lifts you up and settles himself between your thighs.

"Leon-"

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure? About me?"

"Yes." He smiles, lifting his head. "Now stop doubting yourself, will you? You're too perfect for that." If you were sober, your mind would've had red lights blaring, trying to protect you, but the alcohol flattened out all thoughts. A hint of doubt crossed your mind instinctually. But his touch is so good, and he's making you feel things that you haven't in a long time.

"I-"

"Come on, tell me how much you want me."

"I really like you, Leon. It's just...I have this feeling that I'll get hurt."

"What are you so afraid of? What can I do to change your mind?" He whispers. "I'll do anything for you." He says, pulling your head down to kiss him. The sweet nothings bring back some bad memories, it's starting to feel a bit like deja vu.

"I've been hurt before, Leon."

"What's his name? I'll kick his ass."

"It was in high school, but it happened too many times."

"You have to stop thinking, just focus on me, okay?"

"Leon."

"Come on." He sighs, pressing a finger to your lips. "I won't let anything bad happen to you. I don't want to lose something because someone in your past ruined everything for you, okay?"

"I don't know."

He sighs. "Do you wanna head home ?"

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not upset. Come on, I'll take you back."

"I didn't mean to ruin the night."

"No, I'm not letting you leave thinking you ruined it. I'm sure a million more parties are happening this week if you feel so bad."

"I'm a mess, Leon. Why do you even like me? I'm not worth it."

"Of course you are." He says, cupping your cheek."You're the only person I can stand to be around for hours while sober. And you can't argue with that."

"Okay."

"I'll get us out of here and you can crash in my room."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Now come on, we're leaving." 

...

The taxi ride home was short and sweet,  but still awkward. You were scared he'd be mad at you for ending the night so abruptly, but when you got into the room he made sure to put his arm around you, whispering reassurement into your ear, stroking your hair.

"You don't have to worry. I'm not angry."

"Really?"

"I don't blame you for wanting to wait."

"It's just, the last time-"

"I'm not him, you can trust me. I've been trying to prove that to you."

"I think... Maybe I can learn to trust you."

"You will, eventually." He says, holding his arms open, gesturing for her to cuddle with him.

"Thank you."

"Anytime."

You cuddle him for a bit, the silence being cut by the sound of the two of you breathing. Leon leans down to kiss capture your lips softly, it feels a lot easier to kiss him back, pressing your body against him.

"I don't know why anyone would ever hurt you." He whispers between kisses. "You're perfect." He runs his fingers through your hair.

"I don't know about that."

"I don't know why you doubt yourself either. Go to sleep, you'll feel better in the morning."

[hoiststowline]

mercy's shore

ratchet x female!reader

originally posted on my ao3 here!

"What is the point of having your number if you never pick up the fragging phone?" Startled, your hold on the device wavers as you yank it away from your ear, his volume loud and displeased. "I've been trying to contact you all damn morning, where have you been?" 

His grouchiness overlays his concern, but it's not as heavy as it normally is, bearable to a wide extent. "Sorry. I got caught up with something, but I have a free minute. What's up?"

Ratchet sputters, and his engine revs theatrically in the background alerting you that he's driving, likely on the way to your house. "Oh, you can spare me a minute?" That may not have been the best sentence to say, even in your delirious state. "And you got 'caught up with something?' y/n, that is probably the poorest excuse I've ever heard, and trust me, I've heard it all." 

Your nose wrinkles, carefully surveying your options in the next reply you dare provide. It would appear no matter what you said unless it was the plain truth, it would not satisfy the doctor. "I...can I try again?" It comes out eventually, meek and stifled with exhaustion alongside a bout of attempted humor. 

"Can you what?!" Wrong choice slapping you profoundly in the face, the phone moves apart from your ear as he shouts. "Did you hit your head? What the scrap is the matter with you?" 

Sighing, you stand off the couch, hesitantly bringing the phone back to your ear, achy joints expecting his anger to flare once more. "It's been a long day," You start, pausing in case he decides to interject. "I was sleeping when you called, I really am sorry."

"It is only two in the afternoon," It's quieter, but still overmuch alarmed. "And sleeping? This isn't like you. I know your schedule very well, you don't take your 'naps' at this time of day." The fact that Ratchet claims to know your schedule is amusing, but you don't have the energy to tease him for the sentiment. 

"I was-" You move around the furniture, heading into the kitchen for a glass of water. "I was tired, Ratch. I didn't get much sleep last night." Part of you questioned if divulging the medic was the best idea, for he would only insist upon checking you over and monitoring your symptoms if he found any. 

"And why is that? Assignments, or work-related activities?" Unable to remember the last time you felt such fatigue, the only thing you wanted at this very moment was to go back to sleep, alone, in a dark room. "It better not have been to watch garbage on television." 

"That doesn't matter." You start, knowing what comes next. 

"It does." Going to argue back, you spin to the window in the kitchen as the tell-tale sound of a truck coming down the road reaches your ears. "Open the garage, now. I'm outside."

Groaning, the line clicks dead, leaving no option available to defend the idea that you were fine. You could hide, and claim you weren't home, but you know he's seen your car in the driveway already, and he wouldn't leave until he saw you. With dread, you watch the red and white ambulance pull onto the pavement, radiating the vibe that you were really in for it this afternoon. 

"Hi Ratchet," Your palm hits the button that opens the garage door, exasperation filling your tone as he pulls inside. "So kind of you to say you were dropping by."

"Hush up, I've just about had it with your nonsense." He doesn't mean it, because he wouldn't be here if he did. "If you run and lock yourself inside like last time, I will throw something at you." 

The idea had crossed your mind, but you knew it was all in vain, even if you did try such an escape. "Yeah, okay. I'll just remember to wash you with paint stripper next time around." 

"That is not funny." His passenger-side door pops open, impatience showing clear as day. "Get in y/n. And it's not a request." 

Your hand squeezes into a fist, but relents, knowing you were at the end of a losing battle. "Fine. Can I go get my bag, at least?"

As if he was anticipating you to quarrel with him, Ratchet begins his sentence without thinking. "I just said-!" When he processes your words, his voice box spatters, followed by an ex-vent. "Very well. But don't try anything, I'll be waiting." 

You disappear back through the interior garage door, back into your kitchen, and out of Ratchet's line of sight. In his initial investigation, your outward appearance seemed normal, with no obvious signs of trauma or injury. Still, you did have an aura of distress and melancholy, even if you were bickering with him habitually. Ratchet reviews his options, mindful of what he understood was the best solution to your long day, and after a few kliks pass, you return to the garage, bag on your shoulder as you close the door over behind you. 

"Told you I'd be right back," Shuffling around the ambulance, you step up into his cabin, sliding into the seat as the door swings shut. 

"I have validation for my wariness." His center console blinks as he speaks. "If you must sleep, go ahead. I'll be quiet."

"I'm good," Head tilting back, you're met with the soft beige of the headrest, and seatbelt clicking over your waist. "I'm sure you'll give me a run for my money when we get back to the base, so I'll sleep after." 

"You're lucky that I don't understand that idiom, or I'd probably leave you on the side of the road." Another jab he has no intention of following through with. "Are you going to discuss then why you are so exhausted? And don't give me the scrap about how you didn't sleep well. I know that. I want to know what was keeping you up."

The urge to scream at him 'You aren't my doctor' is nearly irresistible. You physically have to bite your lip, staring out the window with declination in your body language, but you have to take a step back to confront the larger picture. Ratchet hardly ever left the base, and it appears this journey was made entirely on your behalf, but the reason you felt so coddled and overwhelmed was because he was demonstrating compassion the only way he knew how. Ratchet was a worrier at heart, and him coming out here because he couldn't get ahold of you made guilt settle in the bottom of your stomach. 

"I know you're not ignoring me, y/n." His voice is flat as the seat nudges your back. "You're on such thin ice, I-"

"I'm sorry." It comes out a bit more warble than you intend, watching as his rearview mirror tilts downwards to look at you. "I was up all night overthinking. My brain was going a hundred miles a minute, I-" Your voice hitches, swallowing down a sob that rises in your throat. "You were only trying to help. I'm sorry." 

Ratchet doesn't reply immediately, but the mirror doesn't move from its position. Eventually, he ex-vents, and you can picture him hanging his helm in a defeated manner, unsure of what he could possibly say to make you feel better. 

"I should have just told you." You say quietly, looking back out the window. "It really has been a long day, but I'm okay now, Ratch. I swear, I would never lie to you."

"I know that." It's insistent, but he cannot get the image of you near tears out of his processor. "I would still like to review your vitals back on base, just to make sure you truly are fine."

A soft smile crawls onto your rosy cheeks, nodding twice. "Sure, if it'll give you better piece of mind."

"You're going to be the death of me yet, y/n." Your window rolls down halfway, enjoying the breeze that hits your face. "Would you rest better at the base, or shall I take you back home after the evaluation?" 

"Are you going to take a nap with me?" You blink, silently begging him to say yes. 

"That wasn't an option." He comes to a stop at a red light. "You have two. Pick one."

"You asked where I would sleep better?" Ratchet knows he shouldn't entertain this, but he dares to answer. 

"Yes. Pick one, or I'll pick for you." He makes the left turn as the light switches green. 

"In your arms," A pout overcomes your face as he barks a laugh, obviously unamused. 

"Forget I asked. I'm taking you back home straight after." The pout melds into a scowl, but you relent, leaning back into his seat as the two of you roll down desert roads. You knew you could do better damage at the base, eyelids drooping as a yawn builds in your mouth. Maybe you would be able to better convince him in person, but for now, you take it with stride as the cool afternoon air swipes across your face. 

[ginnysgraffiti]

i didn't see any posts about art or patrick playing so i decided to write it myself :)

(forgive me if something's wrong, i haven't played tennis for a long time.)

this is just something random i've been keeping in my drafts, but don't worry i'll write some smut about art too.

also, tysm for all your requests, i swear i'm trying to keep up :,)

coach as reader, tennis obsessed art, determined art.

ART DONALDSON x yn.

that morning you were in a white tennis skirt and polo shirt, a cream-colored cardigan on top. a pair of new socks and a brand-new blindingly white pair of tennis shoes on your feet.

art was wearing his usual white uniqlo playing t-shirt with the blue collar, matching the sweat cuffs and shorts.

"okay baby, let's go over it again. patrick is taller, stronger, broad shoulders and definitely more confident. how will this affect your calculated and sharp strategy?" you asked, making sure he had perfectly locked his eyes into yours and was listening carefully.

"if he's stronger than me, i need to get him up to the net as much as i can, use perfect angles and always land properly. and he's probably feeling pretty confident, so i need to shake him, right at the beginning. if i can get patrick zweig worrying about whether his best friend is gonna beat him, then his best friend is gonna beat him."

"good answer." you smirked satisfied, resting your hands on your hips. you kissed him softly and caressed his cheek as he got ready and left the locker room.

when you walked towards the stands and took your seat, patrick won the toss and elected to serve first. you could visibly notice how tense your boyfriend was, but only an experienced coach could see how tense his muscles were.

art stood at the baseline and bounced the taut strings of his racket against his palm. he held the grip and turned it over in his hand.

patrick was standing across the court, in a black impatto branded sleeveless tennis t-shirt with red decorations on the right side and some checked grey shorts. as he stood up, you could see just how broad and tall she was, his cocky smirk playing on his lips as always as he searched for you in the crowd before turning around to art.

love serving love.

patrick tossed the ball up in the air and then cut across it with his racket. as art rushed for the ball, he calculated perfectly and thought that his best bet was to take it out of the air quick as you instructed him. but as he got in position, he saw his opponent approach the net. he was assuming art didn't have the power to hit a passing shot. and so, at the last minute, he hit a deep ground- stroke. zweig had to rush his return and hit it into the net.

the first point was art's.

love serving 15.

he looked at you as he made his way back to the baseline, and you smiled proudly.

your boyfriend crouched and waited for patrick's next serve. patrick's face was tight now. no more smirks.

suddenly, the ball came across the net, fast as a whip. art couldn't return it.

15-all.

serve after serve stunned both you and art, and you found yourself torturing the fabric of your skirt intensely.

30-15.

40-15.

and just like that, patrick zweig had won the first game.

art glanced over at your seat and saw your brows furrowed. tho, you couldn't tell what he was thinking.

now it was his serve. he landed each one exactly where he wanted it to go. he was setting up his shots a few strokes ahead. he kept him running all over the court. but every time, patrick returned it. their long rallies would inevitably end in patrick's favor.

art stayed alert. he met the ball each time, but regardless of how smooth and calculated his shots were, it just didn't matter. zweig took the first set 7-5.

you could tell art was exhausted already. during the break he wiped his sweat off with a towel, not even looking at you. you breathed in deeply. your boyfriend could not lose; it was not an option.

art thought that by getting that first point off him, he would have thrown him off. but he had actually awakened his opponent. art had given him a reason to play his fucking damn best.

art started to go for aces, each and every serve. it was risky; he knew he could double-fault and you had warned him about it, but it felt like his only shot. when the first one went well he looked at you, and you nodded with a serious look.

having your permission, he did it again.

his point.

his first serve was hard and bounced high. zweig dove for it and hit it out.

30-love.

your boyfriend glanced over at you as he went to pick up the ball, and you saw a smile creep over his face.

art hit another flat serve, whizzed past patrick.

40-love.

your boyfriend had him. just by looking at him from your seat, you could feel the tingle in the top of his head and down his back. you could feel the space in between his joints, the fluidity of hid muscles. you felt a hum in your bones.

art served the ball, low and fast. he returned it with spin that art understood innately, he knew where it would go, how it would bounce. art hit it back with the full force of his shoulder. pat's return went long and art went on to win the set. the score was now good for both, and it would come down to who won the next set.

zweig's first serve on the next game had art rallying back and forth for the point but ended in patrick hitting a low groundstroke that whizzed past him. you wanted to scream as you saw the ball bounce past art's racket. but you knew a coach like you wouldn't stand for that.

patrick zweig took control of the court. he broke art's serve, and he held him own. art showed up to the ball. he ran like hell. but it wasn't enough. when pat scored the last point, art fell to his knees. he held on to the ground for a moment and closed his eyes.

you stood up and focused your gaze on art as he approached patrick to shake his hand and pose for the photographers.

(...)

you and art made your way towards the locker room. as soon as he stepped in he immediately packed up his stuff and zipped his racket in its cover.

when he collapsed on the seat, you sat in front of him and looked at him closely.

"he said i played fucking amazing. amazing! he only said that because at the end i'm the one who fucking lost..." art said, his voice catching and breaking.

you shook your head. "you're wrong."

art raised his eyes and raised one eyebrow, annoyed.

"that was not the lesson you should take from this. try again." you continued.

"i hate tennis." he said, and then kicked his racket on the floor.

"no."

"i fucking hate patrick zweig." another kick.

"no."

at your word, he looked down at his worn out shoes. he was nervously playing with his fingers, and could not look at you.

that was the moment where he would think he had finally failed you, that he had proven himself unworthy of all the faith you had in him.

"are you done? -you said as he turned to look at you- with the hysterics?"

"i've never been prouder of being your girlfriend and your coach today than i have ever been in my life." you finished.

"how is that possible?" his lazy voice cracked before he could even finish.

"i know you're upset because you lost." you said, taking his racket so he wouldn't kick it again.

"i lost. which makes me a loser."

you shook your head with a smile on your face.

"i have been so focused on teaching you how to win that i have not taught you that everybody loses matches."

"i'm supposed to be the greatest, not everybody. art donaldson, the greatest player."

you nodded. "and you will be. today you proved that. you played the best you've ever played in your life today."

he looked up at you.

"have you ever hit that many groundstrokes that bounced just in front of the baseline?" you asked.

"no."

"have you ever served three aces in a row like you did today?"

he started tapping his foot as he listened to you. "no. but...m-my first serve was great today." he said, and it sounded more of a question than a fact.

"you were on fire, baby. you ran down the ball almost every shot."

"yeah, but then i hit it into the net half the time."

"because you are not yet who you will be one day."

he started tearing a bit, his guarded heart opening ever so slightly.

"every match you play, you are one match closer to becoming the greatest tennis player the world has ever seen. you were not born that person. you were born to become that fucking legend. and that is why you must best yourself every time you get on the court. not so that you beat the other person, or patrick, or-"

"but so that i become more myself." he finished.

"so...you're not gonna stop coaching me?" he breathed in a low whisper.

"never wonder again, baby. never."

"...we'll start again with training?" he asked shyly.

"we'll start again with training."

"and i'll beat patrick's ass?"

"and you'll beat patrick's fucking ass."

"...love you baby."

"love you too art."

"can we go for churros at the bar?"

"sure we can. the heart shaped ones."

[writtenbymisunderstoodnerds]

Unconditionally, uncontrollably, undoubtedly (Rose Lavelle x Reader)

So it's been a really long, stressful few weeks, I lost my motivation/energy to write. However, I'm lucky enough to be in the same time zone as the world cup which has definitely given my motivation back. With my upcoming holiday and moving, sorry to say this is probably going to be the last fic I post for at least a month.

First time writing for Rose, hope you enjoy :)

Words: 1.1K

Between media, training, recovery and exploring with the girls, it had been an incredibly long week. You would think with how exhausted I was, sleep would be coming easy, but it wasn't. I missed sleeping next to my girlfriend. Knowing she was only a few doors down didn't help. Of course Rose and I still spent time with each other, it just wasn't as much. Tiredness and missing my girlfriend turned into grumpiness which became obvious to the team at training when I practically ignored everyone or gave one word answers. Even to Rose. 

Once training had ended, I skipped team bonding deciding to go float in the pool instead. It was relaxing and I knew no one would look for me there except maybe Rose. After maybe half an hour there was a disturbance in the water making me look over to find Rose crouching down next to the pool.

"Hey."

I swam over, leaning up to peck her lips, "Hey yourself."

"Glad to see you're not mad at me."

"Sorry about today, I was just grumpy in general not at anyone in particular."

"I noticed, everyone noticed actually. Do you want to come watch a movie in my room with me?"

"Can't promise I'll last a whole movie but I would love that. Let me go shower quickly and get changed, I'll meet you there?"

"Deal."

When Rose opened the door, I was met with a dim room lit only by fairy lights and the TV. There were flowers lying on the bedside table, my favourite pasta and chocolate waiting on the table. Rose stood next to me, playing with her fingers as a nervous smile appeared. It was understandable. While I had never really snapped at Rose because I was tired, I hated doing stuff when I was this exhausted. Preferring to either just watch tv or go to sleep with very little conversation. However, at this point I would do pretty much anything to spend time with Rose. My heart fluttered at the fact she had done this for me. I wrapped my arms around her, kissing the top of her head. "What's all this?"

"You get grumpy when you're tired or stressed. I know we haven't had a lot of time together and like me you're probably struggling to sleep. So I thought we were overdue for a date night. I know you don't li-"

"I love it Rose. I love you. You know me too well."

She smiled proudly, kissing my cheek, "I love you Y/n. Coach gave us permission to have a sleep over tonight since tomorrows an off day. He also said he doesn't mind if we do it more often as long as it's only on days off. "

"Really?"

"Really. When I said everyone noticed your grumpiness, I meant everyone."

"Thank you Rosie. I really needed this."

"I know. So did I."

Rose picked up the flowers, holding them out to me, "These are for you."

"They're beautiful, I love them. Thank you."

Rose took my hand, leading me over to the table. She had lit a few candles, spread a few rose petals over the table and set the table nicely with my favourite pasta, some garlic bread and a wine glass of cranberry juice. Maybe odd combination, but it was my favourite. I cupped Roses cheek, kissing her with as much love and passion as I could. I loved this girl more than I ever thought was possible. 

When we had first started seeing each other, I wasn't really that into her. She was nice enough, she just wasn't my type. My friend had set us up and really wanted me to at least try, claiming that we had a lot in common. It turns out the only real thing we had in common was our love for dogs and soccer, but Rose had actually been interested in hearing about my interests and learning more about them. It had been a long time since anyone was so interested try some of their hobbies from time to time what I was saying so despite not being into her, I had agreed to a second then a third date. To this day, 6 years later, that was the best decision I had ever made. The more we saw each other, the more I fell for her. Now I couldn't imagine my life without her. Turns out you don't need a lot in common with someone to be with them, you just need to be willing to listen.

After eating, we just sat and talked for a while. Something that we hadn't had much time for over the last few weeks. It was the most I had been able to relax since the world cup started. I knew there was still a long way to go, there would be more sleepless nights, less time together and stress, but it felt like a weight had been lifted and I could breathe again. 

One of Rose's favourite songs started playing quietly from my phone, making her smile widely. I held my hand out, Rose quickly taking it without hesitation. I spun her around, giggles spilling out as my arm wrapped around her waist, the other still holding her hand. Rose looped her arm around my shoulder, pecking my lips quickly. "You don't like dancing."

"Maybe not, but here, with you, it's my second favourite thing in the world."

"Second? What's the first?"

"You. No matter how many dogs we may get, it will always be you. 6 years ago, I made the best decision of my life when I agreed to go out with you. You've changed my life in a way I never expected. I can't imagine a day where I don't get to see your smile, hear your laugh or your voice. I look forward to the day when there's no more travel or nights apart, where we wake up and go to sleep together every single day. Those are my favourite times of the day, no matter what the day will or has brought, they never fail to bring a smile to my face. This isn't how I planned to do this. Actually, I didn't have a plan, all I knew was it would happen sometime during the world cup when the time was right. There's never been a time that's felt more right than now."

I pulled out the ring that had been accompanying me everywhere we went for the last month or so, just waiting for the right time. A hand covered her mouth, the other clutching mine. I dropped down to one knee, only letting go of her hand for a second to open the box before finding it again. 

"Unconditionally, uncontrollably, undoubtedly, I love you Rose Lavelle. Will you marry me?"

Rose fell onto her knees in front of me, holding me tightly, warm drops falling against my neck, "Yes, yes I'll marry you. What is it you said? Unconditionally, uncontrollably, undoubtedly, I love you Y/n Y/l/n." 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 45

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, suicidial ideation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

"How was it, dearie?" Dottie asks as you get in.

You keep your cool. Something about that house dampens your spirits. You look her in the eye grimly and shrug.

"Luna baby missed ya," she chimes, "first time away from ya and all."

"Oh?" You tweak a brow apathetically, "she hungry?"

She sighs, "you're her mama."

You narrow your eyes. She can probably read your thoughts across your face. Yeah, and what about her father?

"I pumped all that milk before I went. I can't feed her now, I had some mimosas," you turn your palms out, "you'll have to start the formula."

"Nothing wrong with that. I sent you out to have fun," she gives a clamped smile, "I got enough for the youngin. She's still nappin'."

"Great," you mutter, "I'm gonna lay down."

"I'll bring her up to ya before I tuck in," Dottie offers.

"Sure," you turn away and drag your feet to the stairs.

Your escape was all too brief. The afterglow fades quickly as you climb up to the second floor. The giddiness of making out with Andy in his backseat dissipates as you're drowned in the gloom of that house.

You go into the guestroom where you've made your nest and undress. You lay under the blankets, in silence, without a light. For once you just want to know where you stand with a man and with Andy it's clear. You both just need to forget about all the shit in your life.

Just two more weeks. You won't have your body back, you don't think you ever will, but you will be able to enjoy it. You didn't realise how much you'd miss intimacy until it wasn't there. Not him, never him, just the feeling of another person against you.

🍑

You sit on the bench and tie your sneaker. You don't feel great. Your hips hurt, your back hurts, and you're tired as hell. Still, you don't want to stay in that house.

You stand up and check the stroller again. The baby's secure and staring at nothing with her glassy eyes. You don't get it. She just lays there, then shrieks, then dribbles down milk and sleeps again.

"Oh, sweetie, you off somewhere?" Dottie comes out from the kitchen.

"Just a walk. Been long enough I can move a bit better," you say casually.

"And you're taking the sweet one with you?"

You hear the hopefulness in her voice. She wants you to love the baby. She wants to believe that child is the one redeeming quality she can claim for her son.

"Yeah, might as well," you say as you turn and grab the stroller, turning it to angle after you as you approach the door.

"You want me to come with y'all?" She asks.

You swallow. Don't show your hand.

"If you want," you say dully.

"Ah, don't let me get in your way," she thinks better of it. "I'll be here."

"Won't be long," you say as you get the door open and back out, carefully pulling out the stroller with you, keeping it even as you roll over the edge of each step.

"It's getting chilly out, you got enough blankets?" She calls after you.

"All good," you assure her.

She watches you go, waving from the porch as you twist the stroller around. You keep an even pace as you head through the gate. You don't want her to see your eagerness. You wait until you're beyond the property to pull out your phone. You rest it on the handle and read the last message from Andy. He's coming.

You don't go very fast. You still feel very much unready. You look down at the baby as she rests her fist against her cheek. Something about her nose reminds you of him...

You shake your head. Don't. You don't want to give him that power. He threw all that out when he disappeared.

As you get to the corner, Andy appears. He wears a dark blue hoodie over a grey tee. He approaches with a smile and peers inside the stroller brightly. He leans in to coo at the baby.

"She's getting big."

"I guess," you utter.

"We're Dot?" He looks down the sidewalk.

You frown. Shit. Did you misinterpret?

"I left her behind. Why--"

"Making sure," he winks and leans in to give you a kiss, surprising you. He hooks his arm around you, holding you to him as he deepens the gesture. You push on his chest until he finally relents.

"Andy," you gasp.

"What? I can't help myself. You look... good," he grins.

"Don't lie," you roll your eyes.

He chuckles, "something about your cynicism is really sexy."

"Okay, now you're being a jerk."

He tilts his head and turns to stand beside you. You fall back into step as you give a cautious glance up and down the street. Who would even care? Lloyd isn't around and even if he was, he didn't chat up the neighbourhood.

You head down towards the park. As you get to the bench, you grab Andy and sit at the outskirts of the grass. You brace your lower back and grunt as he holds onto the stroller and kicks down he brakes.

"You okay?"

"Bad back," you hiss as you lean against the metal backing, "been like this for years."

"Old football injury?" He kids.

"You're funny," you sniff.

"I try," he rolls the stroller back and forth, soothing the baby. "So..."

"So..." you look off towards the playground where parents watch their children scream and run around.

"When do you think you could... sneak out?" He asks, fingers tapping above his knee.

"Um," you can't help a smile, cheeks hot, "when do you--" you stop yourself, "you know I can't... do much for at least another week and a half," you keep your voice low.

"Of course, I wasn't-- I hope you don't think--"

"I know, Andy," you bite your lip and look away, "let's not complicate this. Because it's already fucked up so let's just enjoy it while we can."

He nods and lowers his lashes, "yeah, I can do that. How about... I give you a massage tonight? Promise not to get handsy. Purely practical. Get those muscles loosened up."

You scoff, "I might be able to figure something out."

"I could always come to you," he suggests, leaning in to push his shoulder into you.

"We'll see," you look at the baby. She's fast asleep. Yeah, this isn't going to be easy.

🍑

Andy says goodbye at the corner. You don't need Dottie catching on or making any suggestions. You know at heart where her loyalties lie.

You come up to the house and nearly trip on the wheels of the stroller. You recognise the car in the driveway. Right, good timing.

As you walk along the pavement, the front door opens and Suzanne appears with a glint in her eye, "there you are."

"Suzanne," you greet her breathless, "how are you–"

"So when was I going to find out the baby was here?"

"Um, I've been…tied up."

"Of course you have but Lloyd didn't even mention it," she beams over at the baby, "aw, thank god she doesn't take after him."

"Right, well, I guess he isn't much into sharing his private business–"

"A baby is kinda a big deal. I thought at least he'd take time off."

You stare at her. You try not to show your irritation, "well, you know, he's always been a workaholic."

"Not fucking really. He took one job and cut contact a week ago. It's why I'm here. Thought the fuckwit might be laying low."

"Nope, not here. Just us."

"And Mama Hansen. Yeah, I met her. Just as unbearable as her son," she tuts, "I'll make sure to send his ass home once I find him."

You nod. You don't know how to respond. You're not sure how to lie when your tongue won't work. She watches you and her forehead creases between her brows.

"Alright," she pokes her tongue into her lower lip and clicks, "when's the last time you saw him?"

You just look back at her blankly. Her eyes darken and she grits her teeth. She rests her hand on her hip, shifting her blouse to reveal the butt of a handgun.

"Oh, I've been waiting for this day," she smirks, "Lloyd Hansen, you're fucking dead."

She spins on her heel and storms towards her car. You push the stroller after her, "wait, Suz," you plead, "he's not worth it."

"Yeah," she opens the door, "but you are. You just take care of the pookie bear," she faces you again and makes a face at the stroller, "and I'll send his sorry ass home. Hopefully in one piece."

[summer-nights19]

HELLO!! i saw your tokyo debunker fic requests posts, may i request some fluff with jin, rui, or jiro ?? Bonus if it involves a date, flowers, or a kiss that is NOT on the lips ♡

Thank you for the request, Anon. It's so cute <3

Since he's my favourite of the three, I went ahead and did Jin

Roses and stars

After a very long first day with Vagastrom, you'd finally made it back to your dorm. Honestly, the entire thing had been exhausting - the Vagastrom ghouls were difficult to work with and also didn't seem to like you very much - so you couldn't wait to curl up in your bed and sleep. As you moved to open the door to your dilapidated dormitory, you felt your foot kick something on the floor. Startled, you looked down at the object, your curiosity rising.

Someone had left a large bunch of white roses by your doorstep, along with a little note. Feeling your heart flutter in your chest and your face heat up, you picked up the roses and went upstairs to put them in an old vase by your bed before you finally looked at the note, which was written in a neat, slanted cursive.

Dear MC

I'm taking you out tomorrow afternoon after you come back from Vagastrom. I'll pick you up from your dorm.

Jin

Your heart leaped when you saw the name on the page. Sure, you'd had a crush on the Frostheim captain ever since you'd first worked with him, but you'd never in a million years dreamt that he might feel the same way.

"Stop it, MC. It's probably not that kind of outing. He definitely just wants to discuss Darkwick business, " you told yourself firmly, but, despite this, you couldn't help but hope that your initial instinct was right. Eventually, you let your exhaustion take over and fell asleep while still clutching the note, your dreams haunted by a certain tall, blue eyed man.

***

After finishing up at Vagastrom the next day, you'd headed straight to your dorm. The closer you got, the more violent the butterflies in your stomach became and the more nervous you felt. You hadn't had time to pick out a decent outfit to wear, so you'd have to rush getting changed. Not that it mattered, because it definitely wasn't that kind of outing, right ?

As soon as you got to your dorm, you flung yourself into the door and changed at lighting speed. Just as you were finishing up with your hair, you heard a knock on the front door. Taking a deep breath, you went to answer it.

"Hi Jin," you smiled at the man in front of you, who looked as devastatingly handsome as ever. As he looked back down on you with his cold blue eyes, the hint of a smile played on Jin's lips as well. Without hesitation, he took your hand in his own and led you out of your dorm. You looked away, blushing. His hand was a lot larger than yours and unexpectedly warm.

"So... what did you need to discuss with me today ?" you asked, a part of you still clinging on to the hope that this wouldn't be about business matters. Jin sighed, rolling his eyes slightly.

"I'm taking you out, Y/N. I thought the flowers would have made that clear,"

You swore your heart rate tripled at hearing his response.

"Yes, sorry ... I just wanted do be sure. They were lovely, by the way, so thank you. Where are we going ? I don't have an R&R permit for today I'm afraid..."

Jin smirked at you and you felt a knot forming in your stomach.

"It's a surprise. And don't worry about the R&R permit, I have handled everything,"

As you walked the rest of the way to the Galaxy Express in companionable silence, you wondered what Jin could possibly have in mind. Knowing him, it was probably something fancy and expensive, like dinner at a fancy restaurant or a beach trip on his private yacht. When you finally got on the train, you sat next to each other, your leg brushing against his. He still hadn't let go of your hand., and his eyes were feasting on you as if you were a three course meal.

"Look outside," Jin gently shifted your chin towards the window in front of you, and what you saw nearly took your breath away. You were right in the middle of an endless field full of white roses just like the ones he'd gifted you. All around you, silver stars twinkled all over the purple sky, casting an almost azure glow on the roses.

"It's beautiful," you whispered, still awestruck by what you saw. "I didn't even know the Galaxy Express stopped here,"

"That's because it normally doesn't, but I bribed the conductor so he'd take us here today," Jin explained, looking smug. Your delighted look pleased him more than he wanted to admit. The Galaxy Express stopped in the middle of the field, and Jin led you out to the middle of the field, which was completely isolated. It was like you were the only two people in the world.

With a serious expression on his face, Jin let go of your hand and produced a small velvet box from the pocket of his expensive coat, which he handed to you.

"MC ... ever since you started at Darkwick academy, you have invaded every corner of my mind, and, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop myself from growing closer to you. Now, I simply don't want to - you are thr only person who makes me feel this way. Be my partner, MC,"

You met Jin's serious gaze with bright eyes and a smile that lit up your entire face, which he found even more beautiful than all the roses in the surrounding field.

"Jin, there's no one more precious to me than you. Of course I'll be your partner,". As soon as you replied, Jin smiled at you, any trace of coldness gone from his eyes. Silently, he opened the box he'd given you and took out a sapphire pendant, which he fastened around your neck. Then, he leaned in and gave you a gentle kiss on the cheek, his lips cold and smooth, before taking your hand in his own again and guiding you to sit down on the grass in the middle of the roses.

You didn't know how much time you'd spent like that, with his arm wrapped around your waist and your head on his shoulder as you talked and watched the stars - all you knew is that it had felt like heaven.

Masterlist

[loslentesdepedrito]

I'm Your Wife- Chapter Seven

Javi gif by: @skyshipper Jack gif by: @javier-pena My Masterlist

Pairing: Jack Daniels ‘Agent Whiskey’x Spanish-speaking f!reader and Javier Peña x Spanish-speaking f!reader (Spanish translations are provided.)

Previous Chapter: I'm Your Wife- Chapter Six

Word count: 9.2k+

Chapter summary: It's time for Ángel's surgery and the transplant preparation. Following the procedure, Jack visits his son, providing some closure regarding your marriage.

A/N: This chapter concludes the final installment of the series and stands as my penultimate post on this blog. Next week, hopefully, I'll be sharing one more post—a Din piece—officially wrapping up this blog. I intend to maintain my writing for another two weeks before ultimately closing my account. Thank you to everyone who has supported me!

Rating: 18+ No explicit content, but this is an 18+ page. Warning contains spoilers, but please read if you'd like!!! They are below the cut, but if you don't want to read them, the story starts after the Whiskey bottles. Also, Jack's texts are in bold.

CW: angst is back again, but a happy ending is guaranteed, some science, mentions of surgery, chemotherapy, and stem cell transplant, Jack cannot use an iPhone, Javi and Jack tension, jealousy, pregnancy, divorce, and childhood disease.

Your conversation with Jack three hours ago left you drained and exhausted, and now you're perched on the chair in the corner of your son's hospital room. You're engrossed in watching Ángel and Javi talk about an upcoming soccer game and the probability of their favorite team winning the match when your phone vibrates underneath your thigh. With a subtle shift, you reach for it and once it’s in your hand, you flip it over. Your phone is illuminated with a family picture of you with your husband and son in the background and there’s a message on your Notification Center. 

Jack Daniels: HI. TEXTING YOU FROM MY NEW PHONE.

Another vibration follows, prompting a second message.

Jack Daniels: WHY DID THE TEXT SEND IN UPPERCASE?

The sequence of messages from Jack continues, each notification accompanied by a vibration.

Jack Daniels: HOW DO I TURN THIS OFF?

Jack Daniels: HELP me. Wait, I figured it out. Sorry.

You haven’t clicked on the messages to take you to the chat. Instead, you hold and press, sending him a brief response:

Hi, Jack.

He doesn’t send anything back, and you turn off your phone. As soon as the screen is black, it lights up again.

Jack Daniels: I went to the store and picked up a new phone.

A second later, an image comes through.

You hover over the message once more, and it’s a front selfie Jack took. Well, it’s not quite a full-face selfie. It only captures just beneath his eyes, and his eyes and face are not looking directly at the camera, so you guess he was looking down trying to take a picture of something else.

You���re proven correct when a second picture comes through. This time it’s a box of an iPhone.

There’s a bubble on your text chain, and this time you fully click, opening the message thread with Jack.

Sorry, I don’t know how this phone works. I just didn’t want my phone to fail, and you didn’t have a way to contact me, so I got a new one. Did I miss anything?

You reply back with:

Ángel is already ready to go, we’re just waiting for a room to open up in the OR. Could take hours, though.

How did he take the news?

Very well, actually. Saying he’s excited to go home is an understatement. He sensed that we were worried about his surgery and he kind of gave us a lecture on how important it is to listen to doctors and gave us a small list of the benefits of chemo ports. When we asked him how he knew about the port, he said, and I quote, "some light reading."

Jack doesn’t take long to reply:

Smart boy. He definitely got that from you.

A smile graces your lips at his message, but you decide to shift the conversation:

We never talked about it, but do you want us to tell Ángel that you’re his donor?

Your nerves are on edge, and waiting for Jack’s response heightens your anxiety. Glancing up from your phone, you see Ángel still in deep conversation with Javi. Your phone vibrates again, and you look down at Jack’s response:

No. I don’t want him to want a relationship with me because of the donation. If he wants a relationship with me, I want it to be because he truly wants it, not because he feels any obligation.

You exhale, relieved, and reply:

Okay, we won’t tell him.

Thank you.

A text bubble appears:

How do I send the accent on his name?

Suppressing a laugh, your fingers glide over the keyboard:

Press the letter A for a good two seconds, and a whole lot of options should appear. Click on the third one.

It doesn’t take Jack very long to send a single:

Á

He follows with:

Be honest, does it sound a bit funny when I pronounce his name?

You weigh your options, lie or be honest. You decide to go with the latter:

A little bit.

I remember when you used to make fun of my accent…

Liar. I didn’t make fun of you.

I miss that...

Oh, God, not again.

You’re about to reprimand him when, by some divine intervention, a fist knocks on the door, followed by a man in a polo and khakis. Quickly, you turn your phone off, redirecting your full attention to the man.

You’re about to reprimand him when, by some divine intervention, a fist knocks on the door, followed by a man in a polo and khakis. Quickly, you turn your phone off, redirecting your full attention to the man.

“Hi, I’m Will. I’m with patient transport services, and I’m here to take Ángel down to the OR,” he says.

“Come in,” you invite.

Javi stands up and retrieves your thick to-go bag from underneath the sofa. It's filled with water bottles, a variety of snacks, sweaters, sweatpants, and a few changes of clothes—because, as Javi says, uno nunca sabe (one never knows).

Will walks over to Ángel and looks at his hospital bracelet. He takes out a phone with a bulky blue case and scans the ID barcode. Will asks to no one in particular, “Can you please confirm his full name and date of birth.”

Javi does that for you.

Will nods and types something onto the phone. After a moment, he looks at Ángel, “Hey, little man, how are you doing?”

Ángel smiles, “I’m good, sir. I'm just waiting to get my chemo port. After that, I can get chemo and then a transplant so I can go home.”

Will chuckles, “That's a great plan, buddy. We’ll get you down to the OR, and they’ll take good care of you so you can go home soon. Ready to go to the sixth floor?”

Ángel nods enthusiastically, his eyes filled with trust.

“Great,” Will says, glancing at you and Javi. “If you guys are ready, we can head downstairs.”

Javi, lifting the heavy bag over his shoulder, nods in agreement. He glances at Ángel, a mix of tenderness and concern in his eyes, and then turns to Will.

“He’ll be under anesthesia, right?” Javi asks, his voice a bit gruffer than usual.

Will offers a reassuring smile, “Yes, sir. That's what his chart says.”

Javi nods, visibly swallowing some of his worry. “Okay, let’s get him down there.” He moves to help his son get up from the bed. Will positions the wheelchair closer to Ángel's bed, and together, they carefully lower Ángel onto the wheelchair. You reach for one of the blankets—a gift from your father-in-law—and drape it over Ángel. Will takes the IV wire and secures it on the designated hook at the back of the wheelchair.

"Are we all set?" Will asks.

"Yes," you affirm, and then Will wheels Ángel toward the door. Javi, anticipating the need, beats them to the exit, opens the door, and holds it wide open to let them pass. Stepping into the corridor, Javi instinctively reaches for your hands, intertwining fingers not just for your comfort but for his own solace as well. Together, you trail behind your son as Will expertly steers Ángel's wheelchair through the hallway. 

Descending from the tenth floor via the patient elevators, you and Javi follow Will, who scans his badge to usher you through the double doors into the pre-op room. 

Guiding Ángel to the left side of the room, Will selects a quiet corner and draws back a side of the arctic blue diamond-print curtains, revealing an unoccupied bed. Positioning the wheelchair beside the bed, he assists Ángel in transitioning onto the soft mattress.

"Alright, good luck, buddy. You'll do great in there," Will encourages, raising a fist. Ángel meets it with his own, and as their fists connect, they both playfully mimic the sound of an explosion.

"Thanks, sir," Ángel replies, his voice carrying gratitude. Then, in a quiet and unsure tone, he adds, "I'll see you after?"

Will's smile is reassuring. "Absolutely. I'll be the one taking you back up."

With that, Will takes a step back, giving Ángel some space. He turns to you and your husband, saying, "It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Peña, Mrs. Peña. Someone should be with you shortly."

"Thanks for everything, Will," you say, watching as Will, with a warm smile, exits and closes the curtain, providing you with some privacy with your son.

With only one chair in the room, Javi insists you take a seat, not wanting you on your feet.

"¿Y tú? (what about you?)" you ask, concern etched in your voice and face. Maybe it's because you went so long without a partner prioritizing you, or because in the time your son has been in the hospital, Javier has really taken care of almost everything. Sometimes you can't help but feel guilty that he always puts your comfort above his own.

"Me paro (I’ll stand)," Javi shrugs his shoulders as if it's the most obvious choice in the world.

"Papi, you can sit here," Ángel offers, patting the mattress.

"Está bien (it's okay), mijo, I can stand for a while," he smiles, loving that his son is always considerate.

"Baja ese bolso (put down that bag), at least," you plead with him.

"I'm good, someone should be here soon," Javi reassures.

"Pero, Javi- (but, Javi-)" You're interrupted when you hear a woman asking if she can come in.

He smirks and whispers, "Ves (see)." Dropping his cocky look, Javi opens the curtain to let the woman in.

"Hello, my name is Dr. Gaddi. I'll be Angel's anesthesiologist. Can I please get a full name and a birthday?"

Your son happily responds to the doctor's requests while she verifies the information on the computer.

"Great, thank you, sweetheart. Mom or Dad, I'll need your signature on the consent forms. If one of you will please follow me," she says.

"I'll go," Javi says, and to your relief, he finally drops the bag from his shoulder.

"It's just straight this way," the anesthesiologist says, motioning past the curtain where the nurse station is in the middle of the big room.

Javier nods and follows the doctor. "Ya vengo mis amores (I’ll be back my loves)," he says with a big smile before closing the curtain.

Once on the other side of the curtain, where you and his son can't see him, he exhales a shaky breath. The fear is there, gnawing at him, although he doesn't want to show it. He wishes he could share it with you, as he normally would, but you're pregnant. The stress is already too much, and he doesn't want it to affect the baby. That thought terrifies him, and he can't risk it. Through the course of your marriage, he's come to understand that sometimes, marriage isn't a perfect fifty-fifty. There are moments when one partner has to carry more, and right now, he knows it's one of those moments. He must bear the fear and shoulder some of yours. While he wants to share these worries with you, a deep-seated commitment to putting family first holds him back. His protective nature takes precedence, always prioritizing his family.

Javier raises his head back up and quickly turns around to follow the doctor, who is waiting for him.

Once he catches up to her, she tells him the forms are for consent of treatment. The doctor reads the online document, informing Javi about the procedure, the benefits, and the risks it entails.

Dr. Gaddi must have seen the look on Javier's face after she listed the risks and the way he nearly crumbled when she said "or death" because she stopped and turned to him.

"But... everything will be okay, right? He’s in good hands?” Javi asks, his voice cracking as if he's on the verge of tears; even speaking those words makes his throat ache, causing a noticeable strain in his voice.

"Sir, I can't make any promises. Every surgery does come with risks, but my team and I have successfully done this procedure multiple times.” 

Javi tries his best to remind himself that everyone in the OR is experienced and has done this procedure before.

"Where do I sign?" he manages to ask, his voice slowly regaining its composure.

While Javi is with Ángel's anesthesiologist, a nurse, and another doctor come in to check on Ángel. He had only managed a short nap, so now, as he rests, you take out your phone and send a text to Jack. 

Hey. We're in the Pre-op area. There's a room in the OR now, and I've met his doctors. As soon as the anesthesiologist comes back, they'll take him.

Jack replies instantly as if he's been sitting by, waiting for his phone to ring:

Thank you for letting me know.

He sends a follow-up: 

His surgery is only supposed to take an hour, right?

That's what the doctors said. I'm sure he won't be in there for too long.

As Javi, Dr. Gaddi, and a nurse approach, you text Jack:

The anesthesiologist will be here soon. I'll send you any updates I get, and I'm going to send you Javi's contact info just in case.

After adding Javi's phone number and hitting send, your husband and the surgical team arrive.

Dr. Gaddi approaches, “Hi, Mom, everything is ready on our end to take the patient to the OR."

“Okay,” you say, rising to your feet. The staff gathers around the bed and begins to move it. Ángel stirs at the movement, calling for you and Javi before opening his eyes.

Javi quickly rushes to your side, closer to your son, and reassures him, "It's okay."

"Oh, am I going to surgery?" Ángel asks.

"Yes, you are, Angel," the nurse responds as he releases the brakes on the left side.

"Oh, okay, yay," Ángel smiles.

The nurse chuckles at his excitement, "You know, not many kids are excited for surgery."

"I'm excited because chemo ports look more comfortable than the IV. It gets in my way when I do, like, anything," Ángel explains with a huff.

"Well, I've heard from other patients that they prefer the port, so hopefully you will too," says Dr. Gaddi as she stands to the side, waiting to wheel Ángel out of the room.

She turns to you and your husband, saying, "You guys can follow us until that red line, and then you'll be taken to the waiting room."

You start feeling more anxious, and Javier senses it. He begins to rub your lower back, his warm hand moving up and down, offering comfort.

"Okay, ready," says the nurse.

With the curtain open, they go through first, and you and Javi are right next to your son’s bed.

You're so hyper-focused on your son that you don't realize you've made it right before the line that you can't cross.

"Love you, Mommy, love you, Daddy," Ángel says, reaching out for your hand.

You take his little hand in yours, and Javi covers both of your hands with his.

"Te amamos más, mi niño (we love you more)," Javi tells him in a soft voice. Everyone can hear the love pouring out of his words.

Ángel knows this and doesn't try to contradict his dad because he knows it would be in vain. Instead, he simply says, "Nos vemos en un ratito (We’ll see each other in a little bit)."

"Okay, mijo," you say, fighting back tears.

The doors open, and Ángel is wheeled in. You think the tears are coming, but when you hear the light sound of your son's laughter, you're able to compose yourself.

"Would you like to be taken to the waiting room now?" a non-surgical nurse asks.

Thirty minutes pass, and you and Javier are seated in the waiting room, the only occupants at the moment. Purple chairs surround you, and you're on a blue seat cushion against the wall, your attention fixed on the TV opposite. It's a modest 35-inch screen designed to keep you informed about the ongoing surgery. Your son's name is displayed in green, and the message changes from ‘Surgery in progress: Incision and Pocket Creation’ to ‘Surgery in progress: Port Implantation.’

"They're placing the port-disk-chamber thingy inside the incision they made on his chest," Javi says matter-of-factly, pointing at the text.

You turn your head toward him, an amused smile playing on your lips. "'Port-disk-chamber thingy'—is that what the doctor said, Jav?"

He bursts out laughing, placing his right hand over his chest, realizing he was mimicking the tone doctors use when imparting information: authoritative. "Casi me cago del miedo (I almost shitted myself from fear) when the doctor told me step by step what they would do, so I don't remember exactly what he said," he chuckles.

Javier's laugh is contagious, and you can't help but laugh too. Your laughter fuels his, and vice versa. The only thing that interrupts your laughter is when you feel the baby kick.

"Ay, me pateó (oh, he kicked me)," you exclaim happily.

Javi instantly stops laughing too and shifts his hand to rest on your bump. As soon as you feel the weight of his hand on your stomach, your son responds with another kick, right where Javi's palm is placed.

A boyish look crosses your husband's face. He always loves feeling the baby kick, reminiscent of the first time he felt his first son kick.

"¿Hola, mijo, ya te despertaste? (Hi, my boy, have you woken up yet?)" he hums softly.

In response, the baby kicks again.

"He loves your voice so much. I swear he only kicks so you could talk to him. A mi no me quiere, nomas le gusta que le cantes y le leas (He doesn’t love me, he just likes it when you sing and read to him),” you huff out in fake annoyance.

"That's not true. The second-born is always the momma's boy. So the baby loves you the most," Javi says.

"And the youngest loves daddy the most, so no," you refute.

"He won't be the youngest for long," he grins suggestively.

You gasp, “ya me embarazaste, sinverguenza! (You already impregnated me!)"

"But if it was scientifically possible..."

"Shut up," you playfully scold him.

With Javi's hand still over your stomach, your son kicks again, this time much lighter.

"He's upset you told me to shut up," his gaze shifts from looking at you to your stomach as if he could see the baby, and he lowers his voice, “¿verdad, mijo? Dile a tu mami que no sea mala conmigo (right, mijo? Tell your mom to stop being mean to me).”

He looks back up at you, "te acuerdas cuando Ángel hizo eso por primera vez? (Do you remember when Ángel did that for the first time?).”

“Jesus Christ, he scared me, and he made you cry,” you laugh, a smile on your face remembering.

"Oh shit! I forgot to update Jack," you realize and scramble to get your phone. As you start typing to let him know what's going on in the OR, you tell Javi, "By the way, I gave him your phone number."

Javier lets out an unenthusiastic and dry, "Yay."

“Mira (look),” he says while you’re still typing. You look up to where Javi is pointing, and the TV changes to Surgery in progress: Catheter Insertion.

You wince, "They're in his vein now."

"The catheter is the tube that delivers the medicine to his body, right?"

"Yeah," you mumble, typing the next update to Jack.

Javi reaches for one of your hands and rubs soothing circles, “Deja de pensar en eso. Él está bien con ellos (stop thinking about it. He’s safe with them).”

He removes his hand and turns his body to the to-go bag. Javi reaches for the zipper and undoes it. He digs in the back, and you see him pull something out. "Do you need a blanket?" he asks, with a large fuzzy blue blanket in his hand and his soft brown eyes looking at you tenderly. Before you can reply, he places it in your lap and goes back to the bag. Javi fights a little and finally tugs a pillow out of the bag, "a pillow?" he asks with the same puppy eyes.

“I- thank you," you accept both items. You put the pillow behind you so you won't rest your back against the hard and cold wall. You take the blue blanket from your lap and extend it to drape it over the both of you.

"¿Tienes hambre? (are you hungry?)" Javi asks adjusting the blanket.

"Sí" 

He goes back to the bag and pulls out some snacks: Goldfish, Chips Ahoy, granola bars, fruit snacks, dry plantain chips, and a pack of assorted nuts.

"Sorry, I don't have any actual food," he looks at what he's offered you and feels guilty at the limited options. Javi gets up quickly, "I can go get you real food. Are you craving anything?"

"Hey," you wrap your fingers around his wrist and grip somewhat tightly. You look up at him and push him to sit back down. "No. I don't want you to leave."

"Okay. I'll stay," he says softly, kissing where your hair and forehead meet.

A knock reverberates in the room, and a nurse comes in. "Hi," she says, closing the door to come closer to you. "Everything went well. There were no complications. They're ready to transfer Ángel to the Post-op room if you guys would like to follow me."

Both of you look relieved at the news, and you feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

"Thank you," you tell her, and Javi can't get any words out. His eyes are watering, and he tries his best to not let them fall.

He starts hurriedly putting away the snacks, just keeping the bag of nuts, while you fold the blanket back up into the neat roll Javi had it in. After the snacks, blanket, and pillow are in the bag again, Javi helps you get up. You send Jack a quick text informing him that everything went well, and you're on your way to see Ángel. Javi puts the bag over his shoulder, and you both follow the nurse to go see your son.

Next morning - Day 1 of Chemo:

Hey, Jack. Ángel is awake and doing well. He asked about having visitors and hoped you would come see him. We explained that it's not possible right now. He understood but wanted to call. Would you like to FaceTime?

That's great. What’s FaceTime?

It's a video call.

Yes. How do I do that?

Instead of texting him back, you initiate a FaceTime call and hand the phone off to Ángel when it starts to ring.

As soon as Jack accepts the call and his face takes over your screen, Ángel's little face lights up. "Mr. Jack!"

Jack's face mirrors Ángel's: a smile so wide, eyes so soft looking at his son.

"I just started chemotherapy," Ángel blurts out just before Jack greets him.

Jack's heart glows watching his son's face. "How are ya feeling?"

"Mmm... I feel okay. Oh! I got the surgery last night, and look at my chemo port." Your son takes one hand off your phone and pulls his hospital gown just enough to show Jack his port. "Look! You can see the bump of the port under my skin. Eww, it looks gross. It's so cool."

Jack laughs, and that makes Ángel move the phone back to his face.

"Does it hurt?" Jack asks.

"Nope. It was a little bit like... sore when I woke up, but it doesn’t hurt now. I had chemo in the morning, and it pinched for a second, but it's wayyy better than the IV."

"It's not a pain to use the restroom, huh?"

"It's easier and faster to go now," his brows pinch in the middle, "I almost peed myself once 'cus I had to wait for the wires to detangle from the bed." Ángel trails off, tilts his head to the side, and squints. "What do you have behind you? Is that a needle?"

Jack turns his head behind to see what his son saw. He had picked up the prescription he needed to be Ángel's donor from the pharmacy the previous night. Jack opened the box out of curiosity and took out a needle to look at, but then he got caught up texting you in the morning and forgot to put the small vial and needle back in the pharmacy bag.

"Umm... yeah?" Jack says uncertainly, not knowing how to explain it to his son. He doesn't want him to know that he's his donor, at least not yet. "That is some medicine I have to take in two days," Jack says, trying to keep it vague.

When the words come out of Jack's mouth, Ángel's eyes show pure concern, "Oh, are you sick?"

"No, buddy," Jack blurts out immediately, "I'm not sick. I'm just takin' them for... to... Just takin' them to stay healthy. They're like vitamins."

"Maybe I should take some so I could be healthy. What's the name of the medicine?"

Jack's heart drops at his son's words. His mind starts spinning, but he takes a deep breath. He'll be healthy soon, he tries to remind himself. "You can't take this one, buddy. It's for adults."

"Oh," he sounds disappointed, but his voice goes back to normal, "Well, that's okay. I can't take vitamins on chemo either way. I think. Vitamins can affect chemo because of cancer cells, but I don't have any so I don't know. I can ask later. How are the horses?"

Donation Day - Day 7 of Chemo:

Jack sat comfortably in a green chair, his right hand extended over a pillow, squeezing a small blue ball as his blood cycled through the machine. Two hours had passed since he settled into the chair. He arrived at the hospital early in the morning with the last dose of his five-day filgrastim prescription, and for the first time, someone other than him administered the injection. Throughout the morning, he had been texting you, checking in on his son, and, though he wouldn't admit it, checking in on you.  Of course, he cared about his son and wanted to know every detail of what he was going through, but this had been the only line of communication he had with you for years, and he wanted to take advantage of the opportunity while you were willing to entertain his conversations. From you, he learned that Ángel's last day of chemo had gone smoothly.

Jack's head spun when he heard a knock against the door. His heart thumped wildly in his chest at the thought of seeing you. When the door opened, a wave of disappointment washed over him. It wasn't you who set foot in the room; it was fucking Javier.

Jack instantly tenses and clears his throat as Javier walks over to him.

"Hi."

"Hi."

Javi crosses his hands over his thick biceps, "How's the donation coming along?"

"It's goin' well. They think in 30 minutes we'll have enough for Ángel," Jack fills Javi in.

"H-how are umm... how are you feeling?" Javi gets the words out, although with much effort. He sounds physically pained asking a simple question to Jack.

"You sound very concerned for my well-being," Jack quips sarcastically.

Not really, Javi wants to say. Instead, he tells Jack, "I’m trying really hard to not hate you.”

It doesn't faze Jack one bit. "Same."

"So just don't do anything to piss me off. More like don't do anything else to piss me off even more," Javi lowers his voice more, "She's my wife; she tells me things. Don't you ever dare call her ‘baby’ again. You're lucky she's not that uncomfortable with ‘sugar’, but if she ever shows one ounce of discomfort, you will stop."

"She never minded all those names before," Jack challenges, glaring at Javi."

Javi smirks, wearing a shit-eating grin as he nonchalantly shrugs. "Yeah, she never did lots of things before me."

Jack is furious. All he sees is red, and just as he begins to rise from his chair to get up, the nurse walks in.

"Oh! A visitor," she exclaims.

"Hello," Javi greets the redheaded nurse in blue scrubs with ducks all over them.

Seeing the nurse enter, Jack comes to his senses and sits back down. Subconsciously, he squeezes the ball so tight in his hands that his knuckles turn white.

"Mr. Daniels, are you okay?" the nurse questions with concern. All she sees is her patient gripping the ball so tightly that his nails are about to rupture through the material. She moves to him and checks his arm to see if there are any signs the needle is causing pain.

Jack's glare tears from Javi and shifts to the nurse. "I'm okay, thank you for checkin’ in on me," he tells her and moves his hand to signal for the nurse to release his arm. "Nothin’ hurts," he smiles up at her.

The nurse understands and checks the progress of the donation. While looking at the machine, she decides to make small talk with her patient and his visitor. "Are you Mr. Daniels' brother?" She turns to ask Javi innocently.

"No," Jack's words drip with disgust.

Javi smiles at how fast Jack denies the nurse's initial thought and says "Not related," under his breath, mumbling, "Thank God."

The nurse doesn't seem to pick up on their animosity and comments, "You two look alike, what a coincidence. Best friends then?"

"No, nothing like that. My wife and I know him, and he's giving our son a gift," Javi says 'our' while looking at Jack.

Suddenly, Ángel crosses their minds, and they both feel some shame for their earlier behavior. They know they can't go on still hating each other because it'll eventually turn into a fight. They just don't know how to set aside their differences.

"I'll call the doctor to get her thoughts, but it looks like we have what we need for the donation," the nurse says, taking note of the blood volume. "In a few hours, one lucky little boy will receive the cells, and he’ll be one step closer to being healthy."

After Jack was hooked up to the machine for two and a half hours, the staff deemed the collection enough and sent the blood bag to the lab to confirm that Jack’s procedure had collected enough stem cells. Four hours later, it was confirmed that there were the desired amount of stem cells, and the team took the cells to Ángel’s room. Due to your son being immunocompromised, he isn't allowed to have visitors other than legal guardians. So, you and Javi update Jack on the transplant.

Day 11 post-transplant:

Remember how I told you he started grafting on the tenth day?

Yes! How his body was accepting the stem cells, and the cells were growing and making new cells.

Mhm. Well, if everything keeps going at the speed it’s been going, Ángel gets to go home in four days!!

Oh, wow! It’s just day 11 after the transplant, and the doctors estimated it wouldn't happen until closer to day 25! Can I go see him then? I know I was cleared to go five days ago, but because I wasn’t feeling well, I didn’t go. My fever’s still here, but I’ll continue to monitor myself.

Sure! You need to be cleared of a fever for 24 hours and have absolutely NO symptoms.

You have my word, sugar.

Day 14 post-transplant:

You're packing all of Ángel's belongings to take home. It's been 14 days since your son's transplant, and he's cleared to go home. You don't know who's happier— you, your husband, or your son. But that doesn't really matter; all that matters is that your family is together. Just as you're collecting your son's toys and getting them ready to shove into the white personal belongings bag, someone knocks on the door. Javi stops placing Ángel's books into a box and hurriedly opens the door. He was expecting the doctor to come in with discharge papers, but it was Jack waiting on the other side.

"Oh, right, you said you'd stop by," Javi remembered.

When you saw Jack standing there not quite stepping inside the room with a red gift bag, you gasped. "Sorry, we forgot you were going to stop by." You turned your neck and saw Ángel reading the book Jack had gifted him, One Hundred Fun Facts About Horses.

"Come in," you usher Jack in. "Mijo," you call, and Ángel looks up from the book he's got his nose buried in.

"Mr. Jack!" Ángel's face lights up like a Christmas tree. He pats a spot in his bed as he tells Jack to sit down next to him. "I want to show you something," Ángel puts the book aside and lowers his shirt to show Jack that the port is gone. "They took my port out!"

Jack almost reaches out and touches his son's scar but settles for examining it with his eyes. "Are you sore?"

"Not really. I'm just excited to go to my house. Did my mom tell you I'm leaving the hospital today?"

"Yeah," Jack chuckles, "she mentioned it. And here I brought you this," he lifts the gift bag onto the bed.

Ángel tears it open and begins to pull the items out. The first gift he reaches is a book, Her Right Foot. "Oh, my God!"

You see the title and direct your question to Jack, "He's wanted that book for a while, how did you know?"

"Really?" Jack's smiling ear to ear. "I just went to the bookstore and thought he'd like that one." His heart feels like it could rip right through his chest because he feels like he knows his son. Jack had browsed many children's books and read the synopsis of every last book. The one he had purchased was the one he felt his son would love, the book his son is currently holding, and Jack was right.

The little boy takes out the next item, which is a box. "A Lego set!" Ángel flips the black box to the front, and he sees that this particular set is one of horses. The horse in the center looked similar to Andor, one of Jack's horses his son loved the most. "Is this an Andalusian?" Ángel looks to Jack, his eyes sparkling."

Jack nods his head, "It is, buddy. It's like a mini Andor."

Ángel seems pleased with Jack's answer and moves on to the last gift. It was another box, but this one was a shoebox. The little boy lifted the top off, and he was met with boots—dark brown leather boots with beautiful and intricate stitching all throughout.

“Is that a longhorn?” Ángel points at the center of the boots. He doesn’t wait for an answer before speaking again, “My grandpa has longhorns on his ranch. Do you have them on your ranch, Mr. Daniels?”

"I don’t have any longhorns, but umm... I have the same boots," Jack looks down at the floor like he’s suddenly interested in the simple pattern of the hospital floor. He wasn’t sure what reaction he expected, but when his son's sweet voice reached his ears, Jack looked up.

"You do?" Ángel was beaming, a smile brighter than the sun. He leaps to move sideways so his legs would hang from the bed. He took his left boot and put it on his baby blue non-slip sock-clothed feet and did the same for the right boot. When both boots are on, he pinches the tip to feel where his toes are. Ángel drops to the floor and begins to walk, showing all three of you his new footwear. 

"How did you get his shoe size?" You're amazed at how they seem to fit perfectly.

"I asked him," Jack nods his head towards your husband, who is smiling broadly, showing his perfect teeth. Javi squats down to Ángel's level and presses his fingers on his son's boot toe box to feel if they're pinching Ángel's feet. "Perfect fit," Javi smiles up at his son, dimple on display, still on the floor.

Once Javi's hands are removed from Ángel's boots, he runs to Jack, "Thank you so much, Mr. Jack," he says, jumping up and down. Ángel runs back to Javi, who is now standing up straight, "¡Papi, quiero una foto! (Daddy, I want a picture!)" Javi complies and takes out his phone from his back pocket.

You turn to Jack, and your voice falls to a whisper, "We're hosting a dinner in a few nights to celebrate Ángel coming home, and we'd love it if you'd join us."

Jack's head reels at the prospect of seeing you and Ángel in a few days, but beneath that excitement, there is fear, "Is your family going to be there?" he asks.

"Yes, and Javi's too."

"It's your family I'm worried about," he confesses, looking into your eyes.

You take in the way his face pales slightly, his eyes widen, and his eyebrows shoot near his hairline. "No. You're more than worried; you look genuinely scared, but you'll be fine."

"'Course I'll be there, Sugar," he says, looking at his son laughing while Javi takes his pictures. If Ángel was a happy and giddy boy before the transplant, Jack now sees how his innocence is amplified now that he's healthy, and Jack can't wait to see more of his son's childhood joy outside the hospital.

"Hey, can I talk with you alone before you leave?" Jack asks you, hoping you'll agree.

"Um, yeah, we can go outside," you agree, noting his urgent tone.

"Javi, Ángel, I'll be back soon. I'm just going to walk Jack out," you say, moving to the door with Jack on your heels.

"Okay, we'll keep packing, amor," Javi tells you, brushing his hand with yours. You lean into your husband for a while until Ángel and Jack say their goodbyes, promising they'll see each other at the dinner.

You and Jack exit the room, and you take him to a little corner further down the hall.

"What did you want to discuss?" you ask resting your back on the wall with brown and cream diamond wallpaper.

Jack's nervous to tell you what he wants: a father-and-son relationship with Ángel. You two never went into detail on how you would tell Ángel the truth about Jack and he's terrified of asking you for something this big so soon after a big weight of stress has been lifted off you. 

"Jack?" 

"Sorry," he clears his throat, "I wanted to talk to you about telling Ángel that I'm his dad- biological."

"Oh," you sound surprised. "Yeah. We didn't really discuss that, did we? I haven't thought about it in so long, I'm sorry. Maybe we can get some pointers from Ángels counselor?" You suggest. "Javi and I thought about making an appointment with a child therapist because of this entire hospital stay. We were hoping to get your opinion on that actually."

It's Jack's turn to be surprised. "I think that's wonderful, Sugar. Thank you for including me in the decision." 

"Of course. I think it would be great if we could get the counselor's opinion on how to best handle the situation. And we too can figure out how this new dynamic would work. For example, medical decisions moving forward. We'll tell Ángel about you and I have no doubt he'll want to have the relationship you want to have with him. We can talk more about the appointment in a few days. We haven't set an exact date for the dinner but it will probably be this upcoming Sunday." 

"I'll clear out my entire schedule," Jack says sincerely 

"We'll have food for you that won't send you into a choking fit," you tease. 

Jack covers his eyes with his hands, "God, 'M so sorry." 

You laugh at his embarrassment, "No, it's okay. I understand the food we serve can take some getting used to."  You continue to tell him about the plans for the dinner that is slowly turning into a party and he just stares at you while you keep talking he gets lost in the moment. He thinks about your laugh and the consideration you still have for him and suddenly Jack blurts out, “I love you."

The smile you had vanishes.

“Jack,” you warn dangerously. “We were doing so good, Jack.” You don't want to—can't see him now, so you close your eyes. The words only needed to be said once for them to threaten tears to spill. "How dare you say those words to me now?” You hiss, your tone now angry but more than anything, filled with frustration and pain. You thought you could handle seeing him, so you open your eyes. "What do you expect me to do with that? I won’t leave Javi if that’s what you’re hoping for.

"S-" Jack opens his mouth, but you cut him off immediately. "No, Jack, let me speak."

"Once, those three words would have made me the happiest person in the world, but now? They’re only causing pain,” you pause, exhaling a shaky breath. “You humiliated me, Jack. Time and time again. Even if I didn’t have Javi, I wouldn’t go back to you.” You sound defeated, your voice carrying the pain of past wounds, and it crushes you to keep thinking about the past.

“I did love you, through everything,” Jack whispers, his eyes searching yours. They are watery and dazed.

“I think…” you run your tongue over your lips and then purse them, “I think you loved me in your own way. But that’s not how I wanted to be loved. During our engagement, and more so during our marriage, I never really felt loved by you. Can you blame me for that if I can count with my fingers the amount of 'I love yous' you gave me?” Your words are like shards of glass, cutting through the air with the sharpness of your pain.

“When you did show me your love, I was so happy, Jack. So happy that I thought, hoped, you would give me more love, so I stayed with you. I longed for the morning you woke up and things would be different, better. Because that’s exactly what happened. You woke up after the night of our engagement, and you were a completely different person, and I couldn't comprehend what I did wrong. I was willing to stay with you forever for the odd chance one day you would feel for me how I felt for you.”

“And I stayed because I always hoped you would go back to your old self. Sometimes there were indications that you were going to become the old Jack. Well, I don’t know if I fooled myself, but sometimes I thought you were happy. Like right before I told you I was pregnant, you had this smile on your face….” Your voice trembles with the weight of those memories.

“Other times I genuinely thought you hated me, and then I thought that’s not possible. ‘Why would he ask me to marry him if he couldn’t stand me?’” 

“Did you always think that?” He sounds sad, a quiet plea for understanding. But your heart, scarred by the past, struggles to find solace in his remorseful gaze.

“Yeah. When… when we were together, it was rare you would look at me in my face. The majority of times you had me face down. How do you think that made me feel? You made me feel used and disposable.” 

“I wanted to be loved by you," you continue, your tone a mix of vulnerability and strength, "and you always made me feel like I was the other woman. Then I decided I should stop trying and let you go.” 

“What changed?” Jack's question hangs in the air. Everything you’ve revealed up to this point has felt like glass shards embedded in his heart. He knows you still have a lot left to say, and it will continue to hurt him, but he owes it to you to hear everything you went through.

“I was at a park one day after you didn’t come home," you recall, emotion tinging your words. "I came across this older man, and he showed me pictures of his family. When he talked about his wife…” you pause, emotion catching up with you. “It was beautiful. And I realized that would never be you. You wouldn’t talk about me that way. Since that day, I took off my rose-colored lenses and thought everything through."

"I thought about your behavior but also about mine. I hated who I was because it sounds ridiculous, but I was jealous of someone who wasn't here anymore. And I swear I never wanted to replace her or erase her from your life, I just wanted you to love me too. I loved you so much; I would've settled for half the love you had for Allison, but you couldn't even give me that. I never told you you couldn't love or mourn Allison. She was your wife, I get that... but I was your wife too, and knowing you would never love me like you did her was slowly killing me.” 

"I thought about one night, which I don't know if you remember," you confess, the vulnerability in your voice palpable. "But one night on her birthday, you got extremely drunk, and you kept slurring your words. I couldn't understand half of what you were saying, but I heard loud and clear when you yelled at me that you didn’t choose to stop loving her; you were forced to. And you said that you would’ve never looked at me otherwise. That you wish she came back and I disappeared… That we s- switched places,” you confess, exposing the scars engraved into your heart, and the pain of that night that is still etched in your memory—a wound that refused to fully heal. You were surprised that you weren't sobbing, because the night he told you those words, you felt your world had ended.

Jack was appalled, his face reflecting the shock and guilt that surged through him as he listened to your words. The heaviness of the past, the pain inflicted, all rushed back to him as a floodgate of memories suddenly opened, each carrying the weight of its own hurt.

"I always felt I was the third person in our marriage. You made me feel things I hated, and maybe even worse, I became someone I didn't recognize. After that day in the park, I was going to ask you for a divorce because I didn't want to be the person you settled for… then I found out I was pregnant. I wanted to give us one last try, and well, you remember what happened after I told you the news,” you say, the bitterness of the past lingering in your words.

"You kept hurting me, and you're smart, Jack. Did you not think I would leave you?" 

Jack exhales, the reminder of his own mistakes heavy on him. "I think I couldn’t let ya go, so a part of me hoped you would leave me if I treated you horribly. Every day I fought with myself to treat you like you deserve, but I wasn’t strong enough to open up to you."

The silence lingers, and Jack takes the opportunity to share a piece of his truth. "The night after I proposed, I had a dream about Allison. She told me I was replacing her, and I dunno, instead of working out through my issues, I took it out on ya.”

“Over a dream? You... you let our relationship go to waste because of a dream,” you say, a mix of disbelief and frustration in your voice. You want to be angry at him because such a trivial thing ruined the chance of happiness, but then you put yourself in his shoes. "Oh, Jack," you add, this time with a tone of understanding and sadness. 

“Have you been to therapy?” you ask him, your tone a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Yeah…” Jack admits with a small, self-deprecating laugh.

“Can I be honest?” you tilt your head, your fingers playing with the collar of your shirt.

He nods.

“I don’t think it helped.”

Jack smiles, a sheepish expression on his face, “If we’re being honest, I went in for two sessions and never saw my shrink again.”

“Well, your therapist probably knew what they were doing,” you playfully scold, but then your voice softens, "Please see a therapist so Ángel can get to know the best version of you. When I knew that Jack, he was amazing, and that's the man I want my son to know."

A sad smile greets Jack's face, "Yes, Sugar."

There's another thing you've always been curious to know but never had the stomach to ask, and this seems to be your window. "Can I ask, did you, um, did you ever sleep with someone else while we were married?"

"God no," the words tumble out of his mouth.

"Well, that's something, I guess," you say, a sense of relief evident in your voice.

"I'm really sorry about everything, sweetheart. I can't believe I ever hurt you. I just miss you so much. I’ve never regretted anything in my life as much as I do not telling you I loved you when we had a chance," Jack confesses, the weight of regret heavy in his words.

"It’s okay, Jack. I’m not your wife anymore, but we had some good times. Sometimes love doesn’t work out how we thought,” you tell Jack, your gaze turning when you hear footsteps that are familiar to you. 

And Jack would forever kick himself for driving you away and not accepting your love. The only piece of solace is that Ángel will have a happy and full life, and you finally got the love you deserved and dreamed of.

Javi starts calling your name, and you answer him so he can walk over to where you are. Once Javi comes into view, he tells you that Ángel’s been discharged and that they're ready to go home.

Jack looks at you once more, his gaze lingering, as if trying to capture every detail to hold onto. He sees the love in your eyes for your husband, a love he once had the chance to cherish but let slip away. It hurts, but at the mention of his son, it gives him the slightest glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, he has learned from his mistakes, and he'll find a way to be a part of your lives, even if it's not in the way he once dreamed. The love of his life and his son are happy and healthy, and that will have to be enough for him.

"Bye, Jack. I'll let you know what time we're having the dinner," you say, while Javi wraps his arms around you—a protective gesture that Jack once held the privilege of doing, but did so sparingly.

"Take care," Javi tells Jack over his shoulder, his voice firm but not unkind. He then leads you to Ángel's room, leaving Jack standing alone in the corridor, grappling with the ache of what could have been.

You both start heading down the hallway, and Javi pauses halfway. His eyes search yours, concern written all over his features. 

"Are you okay?"

"I am now," you lean into him and smile. "Jack and I were talking about when we were married," you begin, and Javi tenses involuntarily.

"Hey, no, you don’t have anything to worry about," you reassure him, cupping his face with both of your hands. "Our talk was more about what went wrong, and the bottom line was that I‘m okay with the fact that he wasn’t the one for me."

Javi takes a deep breath, visibly trying to control the surge of emotions within him. "It’s just- me cae mal ese - (I don’t like that-)” You can't help but chuckle lightly at your husband's choice of words.

"As stupid as it sounds, I wanted to make it work when we were married. I saw it in his eyes, I felt it in his words and actions; he didn’t love me, and I couldn’t stay in a marriage like that. I wanted a life with him... It didn't work out, and it's okay. Everything I dreamed of having, I found it with you. I'm the happiest I've ever been at your side. You’re the love of my life and I love being your wife, don't ever doubt that, okay?" Since the beginning of your relationship, you always repeated your love to Javier, not because he was insecure, but because you knew how it felt to be second place, second best, a consolation prize, and you never wanted Javier to think that you settled for him after Jack.

"Say it again," Javi requests, a genuine smile softening his features as he looks down at you.

"What?" 

“That you’re my wife," Jack wants you to repeat the words that make his heart flutter.

“I’m your wife," you say.

Javi, still reveling in the warmth of the words, spins his finger in a playful circle, silently requesting you to say the words again.

“I’m your wife," you repeat, the pride evident in your tone. You take Javi's hand and begin walking to your son’s room.

"Again," Javi insists, stopping you in your tracks.

“I’m your wife.” 

“Otra vez," he requests, this time in Spanish.

You comply, “Soy tu esposa," you tell him and drag him further down the hall to your son's room.

When Javi playfully asks you to say it once more, this time it's you who stops. “Por dios, Javi, ¿en cuántos lenguajes quieres que te lo diga? (My God, Javi, how many languages do you want me to say it in?)” you feign annoyance.

He shrugs, answering with a mischievous grin, “En todos (in all of them).”

Amused, you grab him by the collar of his blue button-down shirt and bring him to a level where you can whisper into his ear, “Ay, Jav, apenas y hablas español (Oh, Jav, you barely speak Spanish).” You kiss his cheek and pull back, leaving him slightly offended but oddly proud. He had hoped for a different outcome when he saw you pull him down; the glint in your eyes made him believe you were going to kiss him on the lips. But, to his dismay, you chose to tease him instead.

"Take it back!" he demands as you stand right outside the door.

“Si lo dices en español (if you say it in Spanish),” you tease with a grin. Javier contemplates for a moment, and in the brief silence, Ángel's laughter and Dr. Navarro's voice echo from inside the room.

"Please?" Javi implores, wanting to savor one more of those heart-skipping phrases before joining his son. Unable to resist his pleading eyes any longer and mindful of the precious moments with Ángel, you relent.

“I’m your wife.”

END

Extended Note: The end! Thank you, everyone, for your kindness throughout the series. I truly appreciate every interaction 🥹.

As for my departure, I'm unsure whether I should deactivate my account or just private my writing. There's one post I received only positive comments on, especially from people with SPD who found it relatable. Apparently, there's a shortage of such stories, so I'm conflicted. Hopefully, I'll have a definitive decision next week.

I'm planning to post the Din story next Thursday; it's just one part, a sex pollen with Virgin!Din, titled 'Paleta.' I'm a fan of El Alfa, and I recently discovered that a song in his new album was sampled from the one I used for the Din story. It got me thinking about what I had written, and I wanted to share it with y’all before I bow out.

Thank you for reading 🫶🏽!

Taglist: @kchavez666 @ttupelohoneyy @mishasminion360 @ilovetaquitosmmmm @stileslvr @pedrostories

[thatdeadaquarius]

OKAY OKAY SAGAU BUT THE CREATOR IS A HUGE KPOP FAN LIKE IMAGINE THE MOST STOTIC CHARACTERS DANCING TO TWICE

ANON I HAVE SEEN UR ASK SITTIN IN MY MAILBOX AND BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS ONE-

GOD IM SO BASIC ANON I ONLY KNOW LIKE 2 SONGS BY TWICE (LIKE "FEELS" OR SMTH POPULAR), I KNOW A LITTLE MORE ITZY, BUT MY MAIN'S JUST BEEN BTS SINCE 2019😭

(send me recs pleassseeee ;-;)

Hey this'll be the last time I use colored words for characters!

I think it's a bit too distracting, and the only reason I was using them was to let ppl know if their fav was in there, but now I'll probably just use CW/TW to mention character heavy asks/fics :)

Thanks for being patient with me for so long if ur still reading my stuff :0 <3

Listen as you read?

EDIT 1/1/24: Hey I expanded more about this on my Eldritch Fanfic Part 2 post, but unfortunately I did a form of exoticism by including the term "Huangdi" inappropiately here. I have since replaced it with "Emperor" as was the original untranslated term I would've used. I'm genuinely sorry that I did this, and will absolutely be on the look out/do better in the future. I hope you can understand.

----

AGONIZED OVER THE GIFS THIS TIME THEYRE SO PRETTY AND I WANTED TO GET THEM DANCING ONE OF THEIR CUTER ERA/THEMES ALL DRESSED UP TOO-

also im so sorry?? Idky i was in such a scenario mood today??? Ig im in my exectutive dysfunction paralysis state so maybe that’s why, like it unconcoiusly wants me to waste more time not catching up on uni work??? anyway, hope u like this chaotic addon 😭

or i just love this ask sm, that’s entirely possible too <3

I JUST NEED YOU TO KNOW I PUT ON A MEGA TWICE PLAYIST WHILE WRITING THIS ENTIRE THING LMAO

ok but they’d totally heard ur music tastes thru the screen right?

like just imagine-

the video game music is normalized, and to them its just another one of those “all kinds of magic in teyvat” causing the music, like the seelies wandering around all the time or elemental energy

Jean is flipping through a folder filled with the reports for the week, she’s got to get the routes ready for the week, then there’s the liyue shipments the knights need to help escort over, then checking in on any of the emergency stations/rations throughout Mondstadt for weary or hurt travelers/merchants-

She sighs, and yet another irritated thought is thrown Varka’s way in her mind, she can’t even muster the energy to make it outright dislike she’s so tired…

Jean was so concentrated she just now is starting to hear the Favonious Headquarter’s music once more, it’s peppy upbeat tune… grates like nails on a chalkboard.

and if she has to hear that damn flute for the next hour she works, she’s going to start banging her head onto her desk.

♤

Out in Jueyun Karst, Xiao is dealing the finishing blow to a flying ruin hunter

He’s huffing and stabs his spear into the ground to lean on and catch his breath, the gentle music of the peaks begins to float around him once more

The Yaksha feels the earth beneath his feet shake. Not like from his Lord, not the other adepti angered, but an enemy so large it’s stomps shake the ground he stands on

Xiao quickly straightens less he fall over, pulling his spear out of the dirt with a little more effort than it probably should’ve taken…

The high sounds of the guzheng trickle through the air, a perfect representation of the base of the slopes, trees, streams, and nature all around him

Xiao turns to face the enemy behind him, his arm popping with tired joints,

…A ruin grader, two ruin hunters, and finally regular three ruin guards, follows it. they come around the corner of the bottom of another slope, and they're still simmering with black smoke, curling off their metallic shoulders.

Xiao sees several red targets layer over his chest,

the music fades a little, but sticks around, plucking strings gently. Xiao sighs, exhausted already.

♧

Kazuha and Beidou had to redirect the Alcor from a nasty storm at sea that intercepted their usual route between Inazuma and Liyue,

the storm had practically chased them further and further down form the Inazuman islands

it wasn’t until Kazuha, from the crow’s nest, spotted fog on the waters that they realized they’d be forced to go into said creepy fog, what with the crackling looming clouds at their backs pinning them in

“Not good Captain, the fog is miles long, I’m not sure I can see a way around it…” Kazuha calls down to the deck, Beidou letting out a sharp sigh through her nose

“Damn… fucker’s not even sentient and it practically backed us into a corner, feels like we literally gotta escape the damn thing… BRACE YOURSELVES CREW, WE’RE HEADING INTO THAT FOG!”

The Alcor makes it’s way into the fog, a piano swells with a strange tune…

Beidou, Kazuha, and the crew know to listen to the music of teyvat, especially if you have a life at sea, where storms can appear in the middle of the day or other pirates could attack any moment.

The music means nothing good, but at least Kazuha can see the storm staying at the border of the fog, moving no further in, unlike themselves

“Shit… see anything up there Kazu?” the Captain steering the ship doesn’t even reach a shout, for the music has creeped out all conversation on board

“No ma’am, wait,” a chill breeze brushes through the wanderer’s white hair, he feels goosebumps jump on his neck and spine,

“…Yes! Portside Captain, land, no enemy movement yet!”

“Alright, here goes a bad idea…” Beidou’s arms flex as she easily turns the heavy wooden wheel, steering left,

the Alcor gently comes ashore, and they make anchor.

…there are no enemies, like Kazuha said, but the tune worsens, it had gotten louder now that they’re actually on the theme’s land

It plays slowly, encasing the crew of the Alcor in a paranoid quiet, and it almost has a melancholy note

Crows caw and fly off of a stone gate up ahead, they can see flickers of a strange blue light further inland, like figures carrying lanterns everywhere they go…

“Damn music, I wouldn’t feel half this anxious if it didn’t sound like we were walking into a monster infested cave…” the first mate says, the first person to break the quiet the music held over them.

“Yes, while we might need to stay here for awhile, I think we’re all very aware how dangerous this is…” Kazuha agrees, crossing his arms and squinting at the moving blue lights… the piano plays on.

☆

You open on Spotify on your computer, clicking on your favorite kpop playlist, it’s been rainy all day, so you need the peppiness of this dance playlist to actually not be half-asleep playing Genshin-

You hum along to the Korean lyrics as you boot Genshin up, ugh, ur in-game music is so loud, u forgot u turned it up last time to hear the new Sumeru music…

Turning it down, you let the Kpop songs fill ur headphones as you nod to the beat, your team materializing on screen. Right, off to do commissions first!

♤

Jean is like.. seconds away letting out a scream of frustration, anger, tiredness, loneliness, etc. her hands clenching her hair and ruining her ponytail when, thank Creator, the theme quiets down finally.

The loss of her immediate ire gone, she lets go of her hair, her hands just kind of hovering midair, not knowing what to do with herself, all the negative emotions giving her face wrinkles just melt off, leaving her stunned, blank face behind

🎶 Dalkomhan chocolate ice-cream-cheoreom Nogabeorineun jigeum nae gibun so lovely! Kkamkkamhan uju sok gajang banjjagineun Jeo byeol jeo byeol geu yeope keun ne byeol 🎶

Acting Grand Master Jean actually screams when abruptly a song in an unrecognizable foreign language, blasts into her office, around it, filling the entire Favonius Headquarters with its… cheeriness??

Jean lets her hands fall onto the desk, still in shock

..well, she quickly decides she’s grateful for the new music either Barbatos or the All-Parent had heard her pleas for…

…actually, it’s kind of,, catchy?

Jean takes out her ponytail, massaging her aching scalp, huh, she really did have it tight she’s just now noticing, she feels a small smiles appear on her face,

she actually kind of wants to do something now (she kind of hopes this new foreign bard song sticks around..)

♧

If you asked Xiao what happened in that battle he’d be hard pressed to tell you,

without going completely red in the face. LMAO

He probably wouldn’t tell the other adepti this, especially Cloud Retainer, but Xiao had definitely had to get used to fighting brutal battles to the sound of gentle summer day-esque music

Right as the aruguably, army of ruin machines spotted the Yaksha, he’d launched himself into the air to try and evade the rusted beasts, aiming his jade spear, adding winds to swirl around the staff to better boost his attack, the machines warm up, their targets moved and locked onto him midair, right as both sides launch their attack-

🎶 Geogi neo I fancy you! Amuna wonhaji anha Hey, I love you (Love ya!) 🎶

Xiao nearly falls out of the air.

Quickly recovering, he uses his anemo power to propel himself off to the side dodging, he swears to his Lord and his Emperor himself, delayed attacks, as if the machines were caught off guard too,

missiles whiz by him, exploding behind, the peppy song of foreign women’s voices sings out into Jueyun Karst bright and happy-

🎶 Geurae neo I fancy you! Kkumcheoreom haengbokhaedo dwae 'Cause I need you! (What?) 🎶

Xiao’s face goes from being confused to concentrated throughout the rest of the battle, and the worst part… it actually helps his energy levels.

and he finds himself nodding along

☆

Kazuha takes the lead, his sword unsheathed and at the ready to cut down the slightest movement before it can get to any of the crew behind him,

He’s flanked by the Captain of the Alcor herself, Beidou’s electro shield emitting a deep hum as it blocks in front of both himself, and the crew behind him

all of the pirates have unsheather their own weapons, daggers, swords, claymores, bows, their all on high alert, waiting for.. well, any enemies at all.

In fact, Kazuha hopes he sees hilichurls soon, just for the familiarity it could give him and the his crew-

the music begins to fade away.

The crew stops just shy of the entryway that was perched with crows before they scattered, the white fog hasn’t moved beyond its lazy drifting, but the creeping sounds have stopped entirely. Not good.

Captain Beidou sighs after a few silent moments, other than the quiet breathing and shuffling of weapons from the Alcor crew.

She lets her claymore sword thunk against her shoulder, and just as she opens her mouth, turning to address the all, deciding camping here will have to do for the night-

🎶Fancy! youu, ooh Nuga meonjeo johahamyeon eottae Fancy! youu, ooh Jigeum neoegero gallae Fancy! ooh!🎶

Kazuha’s shoulder shoot up to his ears in a flinch, red eyes wide, he barely stops his reflexes from taking a hard swing with his sword, several crewmembers shriek, collide with metal clinks into one another, Beidou drops low, her sword swinging off her shoulder into almost a full swing at the ground-

…

…..

……..

🎶 Dalkomhan chocolate ice-cream-cheoreom Nogabeorineun jigeum nae gibun so lovely! Kkamkkamhan uju sok gajang banjjagineun Jeo byeol jeo byeol geu yeope keun ne byeol 🎶

the music plays on, the only one making any noise as the entire Alcor crew just, stop. after their initial shock.

Kazuha’s the first to break.

He desperately tries to contain a quiet chuckle, which turns into a giggle, which turns into a full-on wheeze, as he buries his sword into the ground to brace himself on it and one of his knees

the Captain cracks by the time Kazuha wheezes, her laughter going straight to guffaws and knee slapping, her claymore shaking the ground where she stabs it to lean against

the crew erupts into laughter, both as the peppy foreign song echoes into the mysterious fog, and Beidou’s ridiculous laugh, as always

they don’t recover until two songs later when there’s finally a slow kpop song, Kazuha’s had to sit down, tears streaming down his face, Beidou’s half-dead, wheezing out complaints about her stomach, as the crew keep sending each other into more and more laughter right as they think they’re done.

They decide their Akitsu Mikami must have the best sense of humor and must just be sitting on their celestial throne pranking some of their subjects from time to time, and the Alcor crew find themselves all the more appreciative for it, their nerves entirely gone about the island

Kazuha and Beidou are constantly asking other bards they meet to try and see if anyone can recreate the song for the crew sometime they liked the beat and the memory so much, Fancy by Twice will still get a laugh out of Beidou and Kazuha, and they’d quickly let you in on the inside joke so you’d be a part of it too (afterall you did it lol)

♡

NOW MORE IMPORTANTLY, BC IDK IVE BEEN ON A SCENARIO KICK LATELY?? SORRY IDK WHY U GUYS KEEP GETTING SCENARIOS-

There’s only TWO 2 CATEGORIES THAT MATTER HERE-

◇

Who’s DANCING!! w/o u needing to do anything but play the music:

NILOU (she got those choreos done in like, an hour flat everytime u teach her, shes always begging for “just one more dance lesson Greatest Lord? 🥺”),

YUNJIN (difference betweeen the two dancers is that nilou asks :) → yunjin lowkey demands, she like always gets u into a situation where you have plenty of time to teach her and feel obligated, u just got gaslight gatekeep girlbossed into teaching her another kpop dance LMAO), they also see it as they’re (literally) god-given job to dance better than any idol you’ve seen do it before, esp when they recruit groups of other dancers to join for group choreos

Yoimiya! cutie #1, CHILDE, amber, eula, ITTO, bennett,

Collei (but shes shy u gotta encourage her),

Diona (cutie #2),

FISCHL (would form an actual group to dance all the choreos like a real kpop group),

Gorou (shy #2, needs encouragement),

Kazuha (tbh I think he’d have fun and be weirdly good at it, fem or masc dances),

Ayaka (shy #3, needs encouragement and would rather die than dance in front of ppl other than you),

KLEE CUTIE #3, NAHIDA CUTIE #4,

Qiqi (but u gotta teach her slow bc she needs to memorize it, and also it takes her a bit to write down the dance steps in her journal so she doesn’t forget as much),

Razor (another person i think would just have fun with it! also he’d do it but it would be very, aggressive? like making finger hearts but violently shoving his arm out at ur face lmao),

HEIZOU (shutup he’d actually be good at it and brag- and flirt at you-),

Aether (shy #4), VENTI, xingqiu, xinyan, KAVEH

BARBARA (she literally stalks u around Mondstadt all like “oh hello your highness! just happened to walk by you and was wondering if you heard any new of those “kpop” dances, you know I’d LOVE to show it off at my next show-!” like she hasnt been a block behind you the entire day 💀)

♡

WHO YOU MANAGED TO CONVINCE TO DANCE LMAO-

babygirl Wanderer (he literally surveyed the area before he finally let u teach him any moves, and refused to any sort of dramatic moves, like fem or masc),

Alhaitham (but only like a small part of a guy group choreo like a bit from God’s Menu or smth, he was too lazy to do anymore even for u lol),

Cyno (dammit some of these bitches look way too good doing even girl group dances-),

Diluc (u got him to do like, a pose. LMAO and he saw Kaeya in the distance and quit immediately LMFAO),

Kaeya (but it didnt take much convincing, if anything it just took forever to teach him, he’s talented in footwork for swordfighting but apparantly not dancing, at least not modern dances he tripped so much ur convinced he did it on purpose at one point so he’d fall into your arms again lol),

Ganyu (super shy, wont do it around anyone but you, and maybe Shenhe),

speaking of Shenhe (she just took awhile to teach bc she wanted to stay upright a lot, kinda stiff),

Keqing (once again, another who’d only dance when it’s just u two lol),

Yae Miko (she just wanted to learn the whole choreo that’s what took so long… and now she’s making comments like “My goodness, my god wants me to dance for them? They’ll even show me how? Oh, now I must do it perfectly so I can satisfy you, my Kami.” STOP TAKING THINGS OUT OF CONTEXT UR TEACHING EVERYONE-),

Ayato (he’s acts so theater gay he refuses to do anything but the girl group dances/fem dances lol),

SARA (easy, give her ur strongest, saddest pout and she cracked like glass, u got her to do a whole dance with u/she actually got into it too, its her secret guilty pleasure now lol),

Kuki (did one sort of move then got BARRELED OVER by Itto’s crazied boy group acrobatics he likes so much, u know the backflips over each other type of ones? yeah. ),

Ei (the god herself/not the puppet, catch her never doing that lol, she tried but didnt, get it? she’s also pretty stiff, but she looks like she’s having fun so u just keep teaching her moves, and she likes that its you teaching her something new),

Thoma (shy #5 ? idek what number we’re on anymore lol),

TIGHNARI (u nag that bitch so hard he nearly throws a drink at you to get u to stop bothering him- NO he does NOT think those dances would suit his ears- dammit he wont do that dance, no matter how much he likes you- DAMMIT MY LORD-),

Xiao (if u thought nagging Tighnari was hard, this is like nightmare mode, not only does he not wanna do the dances, but he also wants to understand WHY u want him to dance each and every move- !! bc he would “look cute or cool”?!?!!?!!! …yeah he’s gone, he went so red u cant even get him back with tofu),

Zhongli (would like, be so confused on how to make his body do that, that he ended up just sort of posing, at least he looks cool)

♡

(anyone not on these 2, u did, in fact, not manage to convince, yes, even if their god asked them to, nor are they doing it of their own volition lol)

WHAT THE HELLLLLLL-

THIS IS SO LONGGG IM SO SORRRYYYYY

ANYWAY HOPE SOMEBODY LIKED THIS, DW ILL STOP THE WEIRD SCENARIOS AFTER THIS ASK I JUST GOT IN A PHASE I DONT KNOW WHY

also, im like, three weeks away form graduating uni? NICE, soon i will be free to assault u all with responses mwhahahaha (rubs my little gremlin hands together)

Safe travels,

💀 ♒

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk

[onceuponalegendbg-rwby]

I think it's because people just see an easy designated punching bag online and view it's supposed "shittiness" as carte blanche to mistreat anyone who dares to not be part of that mob. We've seen it happen many times over the years.

Star Wars. Sonic the Hedgehog. RWBY. If there's a punching bag available, people will do everything they can to justify punching it.

A lot of people enjoy being cruel, but they hate being seen as cruel. So when an opportunity pops up where they can be as awful as possible because "the person/group/thing deserves it"? They just jump on it like hyenas to bloody carcasses. And then they get to pretend it's all justified to be an asshole because they're "on the right side", and will get protected and praised for their cruelty until it's not the socially acceptable thing to do anymore, or they just jumped onto the next bandwagon/fad for them to be an asshole about. Then they'll just go "Oh I'm so sorry, it wasn't that bad, can you just ignore and pretend I wasn't an absolute asshole that probably hurt you immensely? KTHXBAI. Oh and if you dare to call me out, I'll call you thin-skinned and sensitive but I'm just a victim UwU"

And the reality is that even IF this thing or media had a deserved bad reputation, more often than not that STILL doesn't justify being cruel about it. But a lot of people WANT to be cruel about it.

You are definitely not wrong. And it's gets so exhausting after a while, especially if you engage with that group, but even if you don't just seeing all the hate can wear you down after so long of seeing the same complaint (valid or not) over and over and over. Whether the piece of media deserves it or not, it just becomes redundant after a certain point.

It's hard to fight the urge to fight back, to not defend something you cherish so deeply, because you know the other person wants to get you riled up, they want act like they've got some make believe moral high ground because they're "objectively" right about how this piece of media should be perceived.

As I said in my original post, it's okay to not like something but that doesn't mean you have to make that vitriolic disdain your entire personality. More people need to figure out the ancient and therapeutic art of "Disengage if You Don't Like."

Now this also isn't to say we can't criticize media. As much as I love RWBY and will always defend it from its haters, I have my fair share of complaints about how certain elements were handled, mostly in the first four Volumes and especially in V4 itself. However, do those criticisms I have derail my overall feelings toward this show? No. Not at all. But I've already spoken at length about my feelings so I'm not going to repeat myself again here.

[lemon-muncher]

Can you write a soft dom! female reader x Tomika (Giyu) from demon slayer. Can it be angst (like a fight during a mission and Giyu was concerned for reader and it ended up in an argument. After the mission was over they head back to their house and have sex 👀. Maybe include some teasing, commands, and cream pie from the female Dom? 👀

Hell yeah!!!!!! This may be in two separate parts but I'll do my best to fit it into one.

"Damn it Giyu! Just drop it already!" Your voice boomed throughout the tree filled forest you walked through. Your husband sprinted behind you, his usual emotionless expression twisted with unearthly concern. "Y/N! Please just reconsider this. I... I don't want you going on this mission by yourself!" The raven haired man begged you, hoping that somewhere within your mind you'd agree with him. Your face only displays scorn from his pitiful attempt to persuade you. "I'm a grown woman. I know what I'm getting into. " Cold annoyance filled your voice. "Do you even know what your talking about? You can't just walk into there and fight some demon on your own! You'll get killed and I can't let you!"

You stopped dead in your tracks, Giyu stopping shortly behind. "Leave Tomioka. I don't want to see you at the moment." Your cold words hit the man's heart like a brick. His eyes filled with tears, his defensive stance crumbled into that of a terrified boy. He knew your shared job was dangerous. And the thought of you never coming hone to him was paralyzing. What was more paralyzing was snapping out of his thoughts and you being nowhere to be found. You had left him there, standing in the snow. Rather than collaping to his knees like he wanted to, he turned around and made his way back to you shared cabin. As he walked, tears streamed down his face and he prays you come home to him in one piece

It had been six days since you left. Six whole days since you showed your index towards you husband. Six days of pure mental hell Giyu went through before seeing you again. "I'm home..." The usual greeting left his mouth, hoping for some form of response. Sighing, he walked to throughout the wooden house towards your bedroom. He opened the door to find you, asleep in your shared bed. One of Giyu's shirts was clutched in your unconscious hands, the fabric being slightly pressed against your nose. He slowly made his way towards your sleeping form, examining you for any injuries. He kneeled on the floor beside you, watching your sleeping figure as he aided to the minor cuts and and bruises from your mission. Relief filled his body to the point of exhaustion. Eventually, still kneeling besides you, he fell asleep, taking in your warmth.

This I gonna be the first of probably two parts. I want to apologize for such a long wait for this, I've had the worst writer's block plus school shit has had a death grip on me. Tbh, I'm exhausted but I'll do my best to keep posting for you guys

[avatar-anna]

Grief Fic, Part 2

this is a continuation of the fic i posted a few weeks ago where reader helps harry with his grief. you can read the first part here!

tw: themes/mentions of abuse/domestic violence.

as always, i try to be as sensitive as possible, and i never want to offend anyone or make them uncomfortable. there's nothing in this fic that's overly explicit, but there are mentions and allusions to dv.

Harry looked down at his phone and wondered if he was crazy for thinking it was strange that Y/n hadn't so much as emailed him in weeks.

Perhaps he was crazy. Perhaps he was putting too much thought into a situation that didn't actually exist. Perhaps he was reading a little too much into the fact that Y/n's new boyfriend was a raging asshole who was slowly but surely isolating her from all her friends and family.

Perhaps he wasn't crazy.

It wasn't like it was unusual for Y/n not to talk to Harry consistently. Both of them were plenty busy. He was a full time dad and simultaneously juggled a pretty successful music career—if he did say so himself—and she was the head nurse in the Labor and Delivery wing of a huge hospital. They went days without talking. It happened.

But this silence felt different.

It started with Y/n declining invitations. Sometimes Harry would invite her to a show if he was performing in town, or out for drinks when he needed a break from helping Harper with schoolwork and dance classes and Girl Scout troop meetings. Harry had plenty of friends he could go to and hang out with, but Y/n understood him in a way no one else did. She was Harper's godmother, had been his late wife's best friend. There were just some things that Harry felt comfortable talking to and confiding in with Y/n that he didn't with anyone else.

So when she started declining invitations to go out and stopped dropping by the house, Harry felt her absence. When she stopped coming over to see Harper, he'd became annoyed. And when she arrived late to their monthly family dinner looking like she hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in weeks, he became worried.

"I've been picking up extra shifts at the hospital," she'd said, trying to wave off her fatigue. But Harry knew better. He'd known Y/n long enough to tell the difference between exhaustion from work and...whatever she was now.

And now she wasn't speaking to him at all. Harry called, texted, left messages at the hospital, and she didn't respond to a anything. As days went by, Harry couldn't shake the sinking feeling in his stomach that something was seriously wrong with his friend.

His last effort was going to see her in person. Harry had managed to find out from one of Y/n's coworkers that she was off today, so he drove to her house, only when he knocked on the door, his friend wasn't the one who answered.

"What do you want?"

Harry had had the pleasure of meeting Y/n's boyfriend once, and for him, once was enough. He wasn't overtly rude—though now Harry would say otherwise—he just didn't really acknowledge his or Harper's presence the whole afternoon they were together. And while Harry realized that not everyone was a fan of kids, he couldn't help but think Y/n's boyfriend's icy demeanor toward his daughter was very telling.

Doing his best to swallow his negative thoughts and feelings, Harry mustered a smile. "I'm here to see Y/n. Is she here?"

"No."

"Okay...Do you know when she'll be back?" Harry asked, getting the feeling that extracting information from the man in front of him was probably going to be similar to pulling teeth.

"That's none of your concern."

Y/n's boyfriend tried to close the door in Harry's face, but Harry was having none of that. Putting his hand on the door, he said, "You know what? I think I'll just wait inside for her. It's pretty urgent."

"Back the fuck up—"

"Excuse me? You back the fuck—"

"Harry? What are you doing here?"

For a moment, relief washed over Harry. Y/n was alive, which Harry seriously started to doubt for a second there. Then, as his eyes did a quick scan of Y/n, some of that dread started to creep back in.

"Are you okay? What happened to you?"

She had fading bruises on one wrist, and harsh red marks on the other. Hand prints, Harry realized as he narrowed his eyes. He looked over at Y/n's boyfriend furiously. "What the fuck did you do to her?"

"None of your fucking business, popstar. Now get the fuck off my property."

Civility had flown out the window. Harry wasn't about to let this prick get in his face or treat Y/n like that. He didn't care who saw or if he was about to come to blows with this guy. All Harry knew was that the bastard had hurt his best friend, and Harry couldn't let him get away with that. "Get out of my face, of I swear I'll—"

"You'll what? What? What are you gonna—"

"Enough! Harry, please. I'm fine. Now's really not a good time. Please, just—please go."

Y/n had frantically put herself between Harry and her boyfriend, and now that they were so close, he could see just how dark the rings around her eyes were, just how hollow her cheeks had become. The shirt she was wearing was too loose on her. What the hell was going on here?

"Harry, please. Go."

Y/n sounded scared as she pleaded with him, and that told him everything he needed to know. "Promise you'll call me," he said, taking her hand in his. "Promise, Y/n."

Nodding quickly, she squeezed his hand feebly. "I promise."

Harry went reluctantly, nearly stormed over to her boyfriend and beat the shit out of him when he saw the smug smile on the bastard's face. But he swallowed his anger and frustration, not wanting Y/n to get caught in the crossfire.

When he got home, Harry was a nervous wreck. He was distracted as he made dinner and cleaned up around the house. Part of him was glad Harper was spending the weekend with Soph's parents so she wouldn't see him like this, but he could've used their nighttime routine to take his mind off things.

He waited. And waited. Nearly stayed up all night in the hopes that she would call him. He must've fallen asleep at some point, though, as he woke up with a start on his couch. When he turned his phone on, there was nothing from Y/n.

*.*

"You were there for me, Y/n. What makes you think I wouldn't do the same for you."

"I don't want your help—I don't need your help, so just—just let it go, Harry!"

"He's trying to isolate you, Y/n," Harry said gently. "He's creating a wall between you and everyone who loves you and knows you and wants what's best for you. Can't you see that?"

Harry looked at Y/n sadly, which only seemed to piss her off even more than she already was. She'd been defensive, tried to convince him that she didn't need his pity or his help. This wasn't the same scenario, she insisted. She wasn't a danger to herself the way he had been two years ago. She was fine. Why couldn't he just leave her alone?

It was all spilling out of her, yet it only made it more clear to Harry that she needed him.

"That's not what's happening. He's my boyfriend. Why wouldn't we spend time alone together?"

"Harper misses you," he said, going for a different angle. "She keeps asking when she'll get to see you, and I can't give her a straight answer. We're your family, Y/n, and he won't let you see us."

"That's not—That's not fair," Y/n said, not wanting to believe the truth, which was that Harry might be right.

"What's going on out here?"

"You're right. It isn't. It isn't fair that you call me crying three times a week because your boyfriend is out and you can't reach him. It isn't fair that he expects you to cook and clean for him when he's a grown man and you have a full time job. It isn't fair that he belittles you and—" Harry paused, the emotion he felt catching in his voice as he thought about the state of her wrists the last time he saw her.

He hadn't seen Y/n in weeks, but a few days after he went to her house, she called Harry absolutely beside herself at the situation she was in. He talked to her for hours, calming her down and reassuring her that he was there and so was his home if she needed somewhere to get away. And for the first time, Harry was convinced that Y/n was seeing reason.

Until days passed and she never left him, which led to a weeks-long cycle of her calling him crying, him comforting her over the phone while she convinced him she was done, and somehow never ended up leaving him. Harry finally couldn't take it any longer and drove to her place again. Seeing her slowly whither away, seeing her less and less physically because her boyfriend wouldn't let her hang out with him or Harper, it killed him. "It isn't fair that he's turned you into this—this shell of the person you once were. It's not right, Y/n—"

Harry didn't miss the way Y/n jumped at the sound of his voice, or the way she subconsciously curled in on herself. It was like she wilted every time he walked into a room, or tried to be as small as possible so he wouldn't notice her. How could she not realize it?

"Nothing, baby. Go back inside," Y/n, her hand shaking as she rested it on his arm.

"Is he giving you trouble? I thought I told you I didn't like you hanging out with him. What's he doing here?" he said, sending a withering glare Harry's way.

Harry stared right back, unwilling to let the piece of shit unnerve him. He had half a mind to say something when Y/n spoke up first.

"He was just going, I promise," she said, turning her eyes on Harry pleadingly.

Harry wanted to say something so badly. He wanted to shake his best friend by the shoulders and make her see reason. This man she called a boyfriend wasn't a man at all, but a monster, and he hated how much Y/n had changed because of him.

But Y/n still couldn't see what he saw, and starting a fight when he knew she would side with her boyfriend wouldn't do any good. It would probably just isolate her even more than she already was, which said something. It had been hard for Harry to tell when he was on the road, but now that he was back for a few months, his stomach was constantly in knots.

It made him miss his wife sometimes. Harry knew that Sophia would know exactly what to say to Y/n, to Harry. She would've been the voice of reason in all of this mess; she would've stopped this mess before it even started. And Harry couldn't help but feel partly to blame for not being around for Y/n when it was so clear she needed someone to look out for her. She'd always been so good at helping others, but it was as if she gave all her kindness and compassion to her patients and friends and family and saved none of it for herself.

"Go, Harry. Please."

Harry could see it, then. The terror. The fear that something might escalate if he stayed, which meant that at least on some level, Y/n knew that her boyfriend was bad news. So why put up with him?

He didn't want to go, but he didn't see any alternatives. Promising himself that he'd call first thing tomorrow morning, Harry nodded and backed down the walkway that led to Y/n's home.

*.*

It was a few weeks later when Harry spoke to Y/n again. He texted her constantly, and sometimes he would get a response. Then all of a sudden, nothing. It was like she'd gone radio silent again. Harry never liked involving Harper in all this, but just once he had her try to call Y/n, but there was still no answer, which was when he really started to worry. Y/n might have cut him off, but he never thought she would do the same to his daughter.

So now he was driving to the hospital. As far as he knew, Y/n was still working in L&D, and even if she wasn't working today, he hoped to get some answers from her coworkers.

"Hey, Harry!"

Harry mustered a small smile for Miranda, Y/n's friend at work. He saw her often when he and Harper visited Y/n at the hospital, and she would always give Harper sweets from behind the counter. "My secret stash," Miranda would say with a wink. Harry never really considered the Labor and Delivery wing of a hospital somewhere where his daughter enjoyed spending her time, but they went often enough that he was pretty sure she liked it more than going to the park.

"Miranda. Hey. Is Y/n in today?"

The cheery look on Miranda's face faltered, which told Harry everything he needed to know. "She, um, she called out today. Said it was the flu."

"Do we really believe that?" Harry said.

Miranda's expression looked strained. "I—I don't know, Harry. I don't like to talk about it."

"I know, I'm sorry," he said. It was awkward to talk about Y/n when she wasn't here. Miranda was just a work friend, but Harry could tell that she knew more about Y/n's situation than she let on. But even so, it would be uncomfortable to talk about. "I'm—I'm just worried, that's all. "

"I know you are, Harry. I, um, I can spare a few minutes in just a bit if you want to wait over there," she said, nodding her head toward the waiting room where families and future fathers were anxiously awaiting good news.

Desperate, Harry nodded and found a seat in the waiting room. The minute he sat down, his leg bounced anxiously while his fingers toyed with his bottom lip. He just couldn't help but feel like something bad was going to happen. His stomach twisted itself into knots to the point where he had to bend over and wait for the stress to pass, but every time one of his texts or calls went unanswered, it just got worse.

"Is this your first?"

Startled, Harry looked to his left to find a man about his age sitting two seats away from him. He also looked nervous, but in an excited sort of way. Harry's brows furrowed for a moment before remembering where he was sitting. "Oh, um no. My friend works here. I'm just waiting for her."

Seeing this man did distract Harry in a way. He remembered his own experience as an expectant father. Sophia had gone into labor a few weeks early, and Harry was on the other side of town buying some last minute things for the baby when he got the call. He'd missed nearly all of it, but Y/n had been there. She'd always been there for his family .

"Oh, sorry," the man said, and Harry noticed his fidgeting hands and nervous looks toward the entrance of the delivery room. "My girlfriend wanted me to wait out here. She claimed I shouldn't have to see her in such a compromised position. I disagreed, but she insisted."

Harry smiled, some of the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "It's..." He didn't even know how to describe it, but he wouldn't have exchanged sharing that experience with Soph for the world. Eventually, he said, "Good on you for respecting her wishes."

"Thanks. I mean, we weren't exactly dating when she got pregnant and we haven't known each other all that long, so it makes sense, but I love her, you know? I want to be there for her."

"I know the feeling."

For a moment, Harry thought of his wife. When she got sick, Harry had been there for her for every doctor's visit, every scan, every appointment, every symptom. He never let Soph feel like she was facing her illness alone. Because he loved her, and he promised to take care of her and be there for her when they got married.

Then, flashes of Y/n appeared in Harry's mind. He thought about how important she was to him, to Harper. She was there to pick up the pieces that Soph had left when she died. When no one else knew how to reach him, she did, and he never imagined there would be a way to repay her kindness. And now that there was, he couldn't just let her keep fading the way he had been two years ago. The situations weren't the same, but it was dire enough to keep him up most nights as he waited for the call to take her away from her awful excuse of a boyfriend.

Before the man could say anything else, a nurse appeared in front of him with a large smile on her face. Harry was left to stew in his anxiety-riddled mind once again. He tried not to look at his phone too much, but he still checked every few minutes, even though his ringer was on high and he wouldn't have missed a single text. He wanted to call until she picked up, but he also worried that her boyfriend would see and get suspicious or delete his number, so he settled on waiting for Y/n to do the right thing.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Miranda appeared at his side. She nodded at Harry to follow her, and he hastily stood up while they left L&D behind.

"You know, we deal with psycho ex boyfriends, husbands, what have you, all the time who try to force their way into the Delivery Room," she said as she walked, shaking her head sadly. "And she—she doesn't take shit from any of them, doesn't even flinch, and yet—"

Miranda's voice hitched as it trailed off, but Harry knew what she meant. Y/n was strong, didn't take shit from anyone. When he was lost in the darkest moments of his life, she was there to give him the tough love he needed to survive. She pushed him around, held him up in the shower, practically forced him to get better. And still—

"I don't know what to do."

Y/n had seemed to know exactly what Harry needed without him having to tell her, without him even knowing what he needed. What kind of friend was he if he couldn't do the same?

Miranda gave his arm a sympathetic squeeze. "You just have to be there for her when she realizes who he is."

"I can't wait that long! He's a monster—"

"You have to, or you'll just push her further away from you," Miranda said. "I know it's hard, believe me, we've fought about it at work, but she's not listening to reason right now. Saying the wrong thing will isolate her even more."

"I would never abandon her," Harry insisted.

"I know, and deep down she knows that too," Miranda said gently. "But if you push her the wrong way, she might think she's burned a bridge with you and not reach out when she's ready."

Harry understood what Miranda was getting at, he really did. He was currently walking on a tightrope, and one wrong move, one wrong comment could send him careening to the ground and Y/n would be left standing alone. He just wished he knew what to say to make her see what he did.

Harry shook his head. "I can't wait for him to do something to seriously hurt her. I would never forgive myself if—"

Harry didn't even want to finish that sentence, but luckily he was saved by his phone's ringer. Relief filled his gut for a moment, then dissipated when he saw it was an unknown number. Still, taking a chance, he answered.

"Hi, is this Harry Styles?"

Not a question he received often, but the person on the other line sounded official, so he said, "Yes, this is he."

"This is Lisa from the ER at Dayton Health Medical Center. We have you listed here as Y/n L/n's emergency contact."

"Yes, that's me. Is everything okay? Is Y/n hurt? What happened—"

"Everything is just fine, Mr. Styles. Y/n just took a tumble down some stairs and is in need of a lift home. Are you able to come get her, or is there someone else I can call?"

"No!" Harry said, perhaps a little too intensely. Quieting his voice, he said, "No, I can—I can be there in twenty minutes."

"Great. Be sure to bring your parking ticket. We validate at the front desk."

Harry all but scrambled to his car, sending a hasty text to his mum asking her to pick Harper from school. He told the woman on the phone that he would be there in twenty minutes, but damn it if he didn't make it in fifteen.

*.*

"Your wife is just behind this curtain, Mr. Styles."

Harry didn't even have time to correct the nurse, to register the ache in his chest at the word "wife." All he cared about was making sure Y/n was okay. He did, however, take a moment to steady his breathing before pushing back the curtain, praying for calm thoughts as he set his eyes on his friend.

Truth be told, Harry didn't know where to look first.

On the phone, he was told Y/n had fallen down the stairs and that she was fine, but she definitely didn't look it. Her cheek was bruised a greenish-yellow, and bled across the bridge of her nose. A cut marred her bottom lip, making one side look puffy and beyond painful. Her right arm was in a sling too, and each injury that Harry spotted filled him with more and more anger.

"What are you doing here?"

Y/n's voice was slightly distorted by her swollen lip, but he could tell she wasn't exactly happy to see him.

"I'm your emergency contact," Harry said simply, trying not to linger on any of her injuries for too long. He figured Y/n went to a different hospital to avoid being seen by anyone she knew, but she obviously forgot about him being her emergency contact. "What are you doing here?"

"I fell."

He'd hoped Y/n would give up the charade, but he wasn't surprised that she hadn't, either. "I heard. How did that happen?"

That question seemed to splinter the damn surrounding Y/n's heart. With a shaking hand, she covered her face and began to cry.

Harry was surprised by the tears, expecting his friend to deflect and lie the way she had been the last couple months. But with the first tremble of her shoulders, he was there, sliding into the cot beside her. He was gentle as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and brought her to his chest. He didn't like how frail Y/n felt, or how she flinched at first before settling against him.

"I don't know how this happened," she sobbed. "I never—I love him, and he—How can I love someone who did this to me?"

Not having the answer, Harry just continued to hold her, letting her get out everything she needed to. She didn't say much after that, and while he was desperate to know how she'd sustained so many injuries, he stayed quiet.

He expected to feel angry at Y/n's boyfriend, or perhaps angrier. But all he felt as she cried in his arms was despair, and perhaps a small seed of relief that she finally seemed to understand the danger she was in. And maybe guilt too, that he couldn't protect her the way she needed him to.

Harry kept it all to himself, rubbing his thumb across her shoulder and squeezing her gently. "You're gonna be okay."

"I don't know what I'm gonna do."

It was all he could think of to say. He didn't know how to answer her question, and he knew she wouldn't be okay for a while, but she would be. Harry would make sure of it.

"I'm sorry," Y/n said quietly. "You've been trying to get me to see the truth for weeks, for months, and I didn't listen. I didn't—"

"Hey, none of that."

Harry continued to hold Y/n and stroked her hair gently until her breathing evened out and she was fast asleep. Relief washed over him like a bucket of ice water down his back. He could physically feel some of the tension leave his shoulders. Now that Y/n was asleep, Harry allowed himself to really feel everything he put a lid on since the curtains were pulled back on her section of the Emergency Room. He was scared, anxious, mad, but mostly just relieved she was safe. His heart was hammering in his chest, but the familiar smell of her shampoo eased his mind, and the way she curled into his side while she slept helped him feel like he was keeping her safe.

"I'm so happy you're safe," he whispered into the crowd of Y/n's head. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you too."

*.*

A few weeks later, and Y/n and Harry were lounging on the couch together after dinner. Harper was asleep in her room after Y/n read her a bedtime story. His daughter had been ecstatic when Harry told her Y/n would be staying with them for a while, and even though she was recovering from her injuries, she still played dress up and tea time and built forts and made cookies and basically anything Harper wanted to do. Y/n was quieter and more subdued than usual, but her smile continued to grow as each day went by. It was just a little, just not by bit, but it was progress.

Now they were both lounging after dinner—one that Y/n insisted she make for Harry and Harper. They were talking about the album he was slowly but steadily working on. Well, Harry was talking, Y/n was listening quietly with one hand holding the stem of her wine glass.

When a lull in the conversation settled them in comfortable silence, Harry found himself looking at Y/n. He hated seeing her beautiful face so marred, and not just physically. The usual playful glint in her eye was gone, and she didn't smile as much anymore, and when she did, it didn't reach her eyes. He missed seeing her smile, seeing the light fill her eyes when she laughed at one of his lame jokes.

But in the last few days, Y/n's bruises started to heal, she was getting her sling off at the end of the week, and she didn't flinch when he helped her change her bandages or at casual touches from him. Things weren't totally back to normal, seeing as she still didn't feel comfortable staying alone at her place, but Harry was confident that they would be.

Harry blinked, his face flushing when he realized he'd been caught staring. Shaking his head, he looked at Y/n funny. "You'll stay with me obviously. I'll send someone to get you some extra clothes and stuff and you can stay with me and Harper while we work on getting your locks changed. Or longer. Whatever you need."

He sounded so matter of fact, so sure. It made Y/n want to cry. "I meant, like, far into the future," she said, running a tired hand through her hair. "I've always been able to trust my judgement, but now? I'll never look at a guy the same again."

"Rude," Harry joked. A desperate attempt to lighten the mood, but you appreciated it.

"You don't count. You're..."

"I'm...What?"

Hers. Y/n couldn't bring herself to say it, though, even if it was true. Sophia was Harry's great love, the mother of his child. Y/n would never even consider him as someone to date, which was a shame because he was quite possibly the perfect man in every other respect.

"My friend. I think you've held my hair back one too many times as I puked my guts up."

Harry nodded and laughed, but he didn't say anything after that. He looked contemplative, as if a million thoughts were swirling around in his head. Y/n was curious to know what he was thinking so hard about, but wasn't at the same time. Maybe some of their thoughts were best left unsaid.

"Well, I have an early shift tomorrow. I should probably get to bed," Y/n said eventually, standing up from her spot on Harry's sofa.

Harry nodded and mumbled something about having to take Harper to school early too, and she couldn't help but feel like there was this tension between them. Maybe not tension, but something. Something was off-kilter between them, and she couldn't put her finger on it.

As she went up the stairs to the guest bedroom, the same one she stayed in for as long as she'd been Harry's friend, he called her name. She turned to find him at the base of the stairs looking up at her with a fond little smile on his face.

"I meant what I said earlier. Stay as long as you need to. You'll always have a home here."

The words filled Y/n with warmth, making her feel safer and more settled than she had in months. In that moment, there was so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn't even begin to vocalize, but even with the distance between them, she could read the look in Harry's eyes and knew she didn't have to say a thing.