#And life will continue being better than before

[theotherbuckley]

Tommy’s dad dies on a Monday.

He checks his emails on a Wednesday. There’s an email from his aunt. It’s only a few sentences. She was always very succinct and to the point.

His dad is dead.

It was a heart attack.

Bastard didn’t even suffer. 

He stares at his laptop screen until the words start to blur together. For an hour, he just sits there, looking at his computer but not really seeing anything at all. His coffee is long since cold. He never even took a sip. 

His mind feels empty, like there’s this fog that’s settled inside, clouding over his thoughts. He’s stuck. His brain doesn’t know how to process this, and neither does his body.

So he stays frozen. Just staring.

He doesn’t notice the time until he feels large arms wrap around him from behind.

“Tommy?” Evan asks. It doesn’t sound like the first time he’s spoken.

“I—“ The words are stuck in his throat. 

Tommy turns around from his chair, blinking a few times, until he manages to say, “My dad died.”

“Are you okay?”

That’s all it takes for Tommy to break.

He opens his mouth, closes. Shakes his head. 

And he just—

Cries.

Full body-wracking sobs overcome his body as he slumps into Evan’s open arms. He shakes, tears streaming down his cheeks as he burrows his face into his boyfriend’s neck. He’s getting snot and tears all over Evan’s shirt but his boyfriend doesn’t complain, just squeezes him tighter as he continues to be overwhelmed by his emotions.

He doesn’t even know why he’s crying. He just can’t seem to stop. 

He cries and trembles in Evan’s arms until he’s run out of tears left to shed. Evan murmurs sweet nothings into his ear, holding him tight and never letting go. 

“I’ve got you. I'm here,” Evan whispers in his ear. 

He feels like he’s run a marathon by the time he’s calmed down enough to pull back from Evan. His hands shake as he wipes the tears from his eyes, Evan’s own warm hands coming to hold his. 

“I don’t— I don’t even know why I’m cry—crying,” Tommy hiccups. He’s sure he must look a mess, red-faced and covered in tears.

Evan gives me a soft look, a small comforting smile on his face as he presses a kiss to Tommy’s forehead.

“You lost your dad. You’re allowed to cry,” Evan says kindly.

Tommy just shakes his head. “But he wasn’t— he wasn’t good.” He has an awful, vile human who never gave two shits about him. Only cared about him being a man, enlisting, stepping up. He doesn't understand why his chest still aches like his loss matters. It doesn't. It doesn't.

Evan wraps his arms around Tommy. He’s practically sitting on him, but Tommy doesn’t mind. Not when it’s Evan.

“He— He was a big part of your life, Tommy,” Evan says, running his fingers through Tommy’s hair. “And now he’s not. You’re allowed to be upset.”

Tommy just nods, collapsing back into Evan, who rubs gentle circles on his back in comfort, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He lets his boyfriend soothe his pain with his touch. He wishes it didn't hurt in the first place. Still doesn't understand why it does. He hated that piece of shit.

He's glad he's dead.

He hiccups as another tear makes it's way down his cheek. Evan squeezes tighter.

“Is there a funeral?” Evan asks softly.

Tommy almost laughs. “There’s no one who cares enough to give him one. He doesn’t even deserve one.”

“But you do,” Evan says sincerely.

That gets Tommy to look up, eyebrows raised in question.

“You deserve to have the closure,” Evan continues. “It’s a lot better than trying to pretend you’re alright when you're not. Trust me.”

“You lost someone?” Tommy asks. Evan’s never talked about it, but maybe—

“No, no. I just know what it feels like to— to bottle your emotions up when it comes to the people who are supposed to love you.”

“I’ll speak to my aunt about a funeral,” Tommy says. Evan gives him a soft smile and a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling him close again, Tommy wasting no time to burrow into the corner of Buck’s neck, soaking up the comfort of his boyfriend.

“I love you,” he murmurs into his shoulder.

“I love you,” Evan repeats back. 

[lovebug-apple]

Yandere!Neglectful Batfam x Batmom!Reader PART 3

With the Batfamily

Everyone had gathered in the Bat cave, surrounding Tim as he looked over the divorce papers. He was struggling. Tim didn’t believe this was real. In fact he thought Y/n was full of shit, and just pulled this little stunt for attention, but he just wanted to be sure. Because if she left the media would get suspicious, and she would disrupt the natural order of the family. 

He didn’t believe it was real…….but it was very very convincing. Almost as if it was real. But it couldn’t be real…right?

Bruce was angry, and worried. He was so enraged that his wife would ever do this to his children-to him. Putting all this unnecessary stress on them, just because she wanted attention. And he didn’t even know how long she’d been gone…..come to think about it, he didn’t know the last time he even spoke to her. That’s what he needed to do!

How could he be so stupid? He just needed to call her phone, and that would be that. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he scrolled through looking for her contact, only to see the last time it was dialed was 3 years ago. That was a little after Jason came back. How has it been that long? Brushing this aside, he called her, expecting it to be answered immediately, but was surprised when the caller ID said disconnected. This was getting worrisome. The others looked toward him with furrowed eyebrows. When had she disconnected her phone? And what was her new number? Why hadn’t she told him?

As he mulled over these questions, an unknown number called him. Thinking it was his wife, he answered it right away, with his hopes of finding out what was going on skyrocketing. What he didn’t expect was to hear a deep, familiar chuckle. The Joker. It was at this moment that Bruce’s world came crashing down.

With Y/n and the Joker

Y/n woke up with a grunt, the cold steel room being an anchor, bringing her back to reality. She didn't know where she was, and she hoped and prayed that what she did remember was a very unsettling nightmare. She knew, however, that this was false hope as she looked around the room, and saw the Joker leaning against the wall, his goons straying not too far from him. 

“I didn’t think it’d take ya that long to wake up. Although I should expect the Bat never trained ya, huh?” he chuckled darkly, his wide grin sending shivers down y/n’s spine. She knew she was in danger, but she couldn’t help herself from trying to save her case. 

“He won’t come!” she blurted out in desperation. He perked up at that. Seeing that she piqued his interest, she continued. “He doesn’t care about me. He hates me even, they all did, that’s why I was in Jump City……” she hesitated before continuing, “I needed to get away, and I doubt they even knew I was gone. Even if you do tell him you have me, he probably won’t come.”

The Joker was pleasantly surprised. He had already told Bruce, and he seemed to care about Y/n more than anything. He reacted even worse than he did with Jason. So either she was lying, which he doubted she was based on the look in her eyes, or, Bruce realized his mistakes, and was going to stop at nothing to correct it. 

The Joker knew Bruce, better than the back of his hand even, and how Bruce reacted under stressful situations. This however was not just a stressful situation, this was the “love of his life”, and this worried him. Batman had never sounded so angry. While he was lost in thought, Y/n spoke again, voice filled with sadness.

“You already told him, didn’t you?” all she felt was sorrow. She had been kidnapped, and even then, that wasn’t enough to garner attention from her family. She had already lost her parents not too long after she married Bruce, and now she was sure she had no one. “He’s not coming. You might as well just kill me, and get it over with…..” Tears leaked down her face as her voice trailed off.

“I don’t think I will. He seemed to care a lot when I told him I had ya. He was angry.” His smile had widened a significant amount, thinking of all the possibilities to beat Batman. This was going to be fun.

Hope you all enjoy! 😁 😁

@redkarmakai @moonieper @thatpersonnamedrook @madine11-blog @bat1212 @feral-childs-word @resident-cryptid @ch1cky-093 @sweetconnoiseurgardener @sillysealsies @dhanyasri @bloodyboi

[mythicalmaven]

omg i saw your prompt list and I'm a sucker for oscar lately, so i thought 45 (God, I am so in love with you) with him? fluff please :)

i love your writing btw!

First Kiss - Oscar Piastri (requested)

Masterlist ↳pairing: oscar piastri x female!reader ↳word count: 0.8K ↳summary: In which Oscar wins the Azerbaijan GP & finally kisses you for the first time ↳prompts used: 45 - "God, I am so in love with you"

Oscar had been in love with you for years, a secret he’d kept tucked away in the corners of his heart, afraid of what would happen if he ever let it out. He’d watch you laugh, your eyes sparkling with a light that made everything else fade away, and he’d feel his chest tighten with the words he could never quite say.

You’d been his best friend since forever, the person who knew him better than anyone else. Every victory, every defeat—you were there, cheering him on or comforting him in the quiet moments when the world seemed too much. But as much as he cherished your friendship, he was terrified to risk it by confessing his feelings, convinced that you saw him as nothing more than a friend.

It was a thought that haunted him every time he caught you looking at him with that warm smile, every time your hand brushed against his, sending electric shocks through his body. He couldn’t imagine a life without you in it, so he swallowed down his love, settling for being your best friend even if it meant his heart ached every time you were near.

But everything changed the morning of the Baku race. He was in the paddock, nerves buzzing under his skin as he tried to focus on the upcoming race, terribly failing as he catched himself staring at you once again. But then Lando came up to him with a knowing smile.

“You know she’s in love with you too, right?” Lando said casually, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on him.

Oscar blinked, his brain struggling to process the words. “What?”

“Yeah,” he continued, oblivious to the way his heart was suddenly racing. “She’s been head over heels for you for ages. Honestly, it’s kind of obvious. I thought you knew.”

He stood there, stunned, his mind spinning as everything he thought he knew shifted. You were in love with him? All those moments he’d dismissed as wishful thinking, the lingering touches, the way you looked at him—had he been blind to it all?

"Are you sure?" Oscar asked, completely dumbfounded. Afraid that Lando might got the wrong signals, that it wasn't what he thought it was.

"Couldn't be more sure" Lando smiled at him, patting his shoulder "Mate, she legit told me, 'I wonder if Oscar has any idea how crazy I am about him.' That clear enough for you?" he chuckled, mocking your love sick tone "Didn't wan't to be the one to spill the beans, but I'm pretty sure the both of you otherwise would have been too shy too ever confess to each other"

His heart soared, hope blossoming in his chest, but there was no time to process it. The call for the race was going out, and he had to get to the grid. He barely remembered the moments that followed, his body moving on autopilot as he climbed into the car, his mind consumed by thoughts of you.

And when he crossed the finish line, his first instinct wasn’t to celebrate the victory—it was to find you, to tell you everything he’d been holding back for so long. Because now he knew. And he wasn’t going to let another moment slip by without you knowing, too.

He glanced around, searching the crowd with an urgency you’d never seen before. When his eyes locked onto yours, a grin split his face. Without a second thought, he handed his helmet to a nearby mechanic and practically sprinted toward you. Your heart leaped into your throat as he reached the barrier, reaching out to lift you over it with ease. His hands found your face, cupping your cheeks with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the intense look in his eyes.

“Oscar—” you began, but your words were cut off as he crashed his lips onto yours, his kiss filled with a raw, unspoken longing. You gasped against his mouth, stunned, but the surprise quickly melted into warmth as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

The crowd erupted in cheers, their shouts echoing around you, but it all faded into a blur. It was just the two of you, standing there in the middle of the chaos, wrapped up in each other. The kiss was everything you’d ever dreamed of—soft yet demanding, sweet but full of a simmering passion that sent shivers down your spine. You could feel the joy and relief radiating from him, his lips moving against yours with a mix of exhilaration and tenderness that made your legs weak.

When you finally pulled apart, breathless and dazed, Oscar rested his forehead against yours, his eyes sparkling with unspoken words. His thumb brushed over your cheek as he searched your gaze, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I love you too, by the way,” he whispered, his voice slightly breathless but steady.

A giggle bubbled up from your chest, pure happiness spilling over as you leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. The cameras were still flashing, the crowd still cheering, but all you could focus on was the warmth of his hands and the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

Oscar’s gaze never left you, his grin widening with each passing moment. Finally, he could hold you the way he’d always longed to. He’d admired you for so long, captivated by your beauty. But now, seeing you up close, you looked even more stunning. He was completely smitten. “God, I am so in love with you.”

Masterlist

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

Cupid doesn’t gamble

Summary: Leon, a mafia boss whose empire dominates all casinos on the west coast, meets a young girl amidst a game of poker. What would happen if he threw all his chips and gambled his love for you?

Warning: Mafia!Boss!Leon x Female!Reader. Eventual smut (I know y’all want this so bad). Slow burn. Romantic. Leon is a gentleman. Characters are 21+ (makes sense for casinos). Researched topics. Mentions of violence. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 6,620

A/N: So, I’d like to start off with saying that being in the Mafia is not okay. Al Capone was NOT a good guy. But, this is fiction. None of this is real so before I get myself canceled (pls don’t) trust that I did my research. I thought of Salvatore by LDR writing this lol.

[II] [III]

“The summer's wild and I've been waiting for you all this time I adore you, can't you see, you're meant for me. Summer's hot but I've been cold without you, I was so wrong not to doubt your Medellin, tangerine dreams,” - Salvatore, Lana Del Rey

Poker isn’t just a game of gambling and betting your money away. It’s intimate and personal, in order to win you must read your opponent. Strip each other bare until the other shows a sign of vulnerability, only then will you find a loophole and win.

But nobody seems to understand the arts of chips and card decks. To be given an awful hand and turning the game to your favor is powerful and uplifting. There is great danger with gambling but there are also great rewards.

Leon was a famous man, known for establishing the most successful casinos of, dare I say, the nation. He’s a businessman, driven by the need to make a statement of himself. To hold power over people’s head with a flick of the wrist. He’s ambitious, cunning, but also respectful.

Coming from nothing but rags and the slum, he swore to his parents that he will earn everything he ever wanted in life. To provide for his family, to become one of the richest and notorious men of America. And he did.

He easily became a member of the mafia after being taken under the care of a kind man. When his parents died and he was shunned away by society, he never expected a man from a dangerous world to take him as a child and teach him to become the man that he is today.

And now here he was, engaging himself in a long hour of poker with a rookie player. You’ve never been keen on gambling your savings away, you deterred yourself from gaining the addiction. But, you did like to play every once in a while, especially since the casino you were in was quite lavish, courtesy of the man who built the casino in the first place.

You didn’t know anything about it, you didn’t even know that the man in front of you was the very own man who built his life step by step.

"You're good with your hands," he said in a rich and low tone as he stared at you from across the table.

“Thanks,” you muttered as you moved on forward with the game. You glanced at him, narrowing your eyes as you tried to guess what he was going to move with tonight.

A low, amused chuckle escaped his lips as he continued to watch you analyze him. He knew damn well you had no clue how to play, yet you were trying your best. It's what drew him to you.

He noticed you stealing glances his way as you thought of a plan. *Adorable.* He leaned back into his seat, eyeing you closely as he waited for you to make your next move.

"You're a bad bluffer," he pointed out with a smirk.

“And you’re a talker,” you quipped back with sass. You were silent for a moment before you decided to either go big or go home, “Raise,” you said to him.

Your eyes were glued to him, watching for his reaction. Was he going to fold or call? Either way, you believed you had a better hand than him.

"And you're cocky, too," he returned with a hint of humor in his voice. He raised an eyebrow slightly, surprised by your bold move. Even if you didn't know how to play, you had some guts.

He studies you for a moment, his eyes lingering on you before returning to his cards. After a moment of contemplating, he pushes a stack of chips forward, adding to the pot.

"Call. Let's see what you've got," he challenges you with a sly smile.

You turned your cards over, revealing a Diamond Queen and Clover King. You put them down and crossed your arms over your chest as you looked at him with a smirk.

The bet was a high number of money. Probably worth more than your limbs being sold in the black market. But you were here for a reason, to earn some quick money. The man in front of you looked quite wealthy, wealthy and rich men weren’t uncommon in this place but it still made you feel a bit inferior with everyone wanting to show off.

Leon leaned forward, inspecting your cards closely. The smirk on your face said it all. You thought you had a good hand, and he wouldn't deny that you had a decent one. But, it wasn't enough to beat him. He leaned back into his seat once more, his expression unchanging, as he revealed his own cards. A Spade Queen and a Diamond Ace. A straight flush. His eyes met yours, his smirk turning into a cocky grin.

"I'm afraid you've lost this round, darling," he said in a teasing tone.

Your smirk immediately fell as you saw his straight flush. Wow, you lost again. You didn’t even notice him calling you by a pet name. Did you owe this man money now? How did you not see it coming? That bastard was cocky and confident as hell! You should’ve known he had a good hand.

Leon chuckled once again. The look on your face was priceless—a mix of frustration and disbelief.

He loved it.

"Looks like I win again," he said teasingly, gathering up the chips on the table, "And don't worry, darling, you don't owe me anything. Just better luck next time."

He leaned back in his seat, his gaze still fixed on you as he smirked. He found your reaction absolutely adorable.

You furrowed your brows confused, you didn’t owe him anything? “Wait, are you serious?” You asked confusedly. He was different from other guys around here. Was he really willing to forget about your loss and even wished you better luck?

Who was this guy? There was something about him, though, that seemed dangerous and suspicious, “Why?”

Leon tilted his head to the side as he observed you, noticing the confusion on your face. You were clearly surprised by his words. It seems like you’re *not* used to men like him.

He chuckled softly at your question. "Why? Because I'm a gentleman," he responds with a smirk.

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze never leaving your face, "And I'm not in the business of taking money from pretty young girls like yourself. I'm not that heartless."

Your cheeks flared, did he just say you were pretty? You’ve never met a man so… straightforward. You cleared your throat and nibbled on your bottom lip, “Thank you,” you muttered quietly. Leon's gaze softened as he watched your cheeks flush and saw you bite your bottom lip. *Adorable.*

He’s a gentleman, he’s not *that* heartless? You didn’t understand him. He wore expensive clothes and his aura was confident.

“Is there anything else you’d like in return?” You asked as you looked at him, your arms on the table, “I’d feel guilty if you went back home empty handed.”

He leaned back in his seat, a smirk on his lips. "There is... one thing," he replied, his voice low and smooth.

He paused for a moment, his eyes locking with yours once more. "Your name," he said simply, his smile widening, "I'd like to know your name."

You stared at him for a few moments before you nodded slightly, “Okay,” you muttered. You extended your hand towards him, “My name is Y/n,” you said softly. He was truly a gentleman, wasn’t he? He doesn’t take money from girls and he was respectful. He’s one of a kind.

Leon looked at your hand for a moment before taking it gently in his own. His rough, calloused fingers wrapped around your small, soft hand. He loved the contrast between your skin and his. The way your slender fingers fit perfectly in his grasp.

"Y/n," he repeated quietly, as if he was testing the way the name felt on his tongue. He let out a soft chuckle before bringing your hand to his lips. He placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your cheeks flushed even more red when he kissed your knuckles. Did he come out of a book or something?! You’ve never met a man that screamed rich and respectful man. It was attractive. You were a bit speechless. Most guys met wouldn’t even be bothered to know your name and yet, here he was, treating you like a lady. Did he time travel or something?

You didn’t even try to move your hand away, it was like you got stuck in a trance. He was an enigma, who knew your poker opponent was so… you didn’t even know how to describe it. He chuckled softly at your reaction. He wasn't surprised, after all, most men don't have manners these days. Not men like him.

He slowly released your hand, though he couldn't bring himself to completely let go just yet. He continued to hold onto it, his thumb gently caressing your knuckles.

“Can I know your name too?” You asked a bit hesitantly, you wanted to know but you didn’t want to seem disrespectful. He felt so fancy, like a true gentleman. The kind of man you read in romance books where you could only dream of being treated with such care.

"Of course, darling," he replied in a low tone, his gaze still fixated on your face. He could tell that you were completely taken by him, though he couldn't blame you, most girls were. He could tell that you were captivated by his mannerisms and demeanor. It seemed like you appreciated his old-fashioned actions and chivalry, not that he was surprised. But something told him that you were different than the others. You weren't just after his wealth or status, he could see it in your eyes.

In the game of poker, it was easy to fall and lose. But for some reason, you like playing with him even if it means losing most of the rounds.

You didn’t even notice the two bodyguards approaching him from behind since you didn’t know what his occupation was like. You were strangers. The two bodyguards were ready to jump into action if you tried anything suspicious. But what could you do? You were completely harmless.

As his bodyguards approached from behind, Leon glanced over his shoulder at them. He held up a hand, silently signaling for them to hold off. The bodyguards stood a few feet away, far enough to not listen to your conversation but close enough to jump to him if he got into a dangerous situation. Leon's lips curled into an amused smile as he watched you realize the presence of his bodyguards. They were there to protect him, after all.

"My name is Leon," he finally replied, his voice just above a whisper. "Leon Kennedy."

“Leon,” you repeated, tasting the way it rolled off your tongue. It was a fancy name, suiting him very well.

“Nice to meet you, Mister Kennedy,” you said politely. Leon suppressed a chuckle as you repeated his name, the sound of it on your lips was like music to his ears. It was as if you were singing his name, rather than simply saying it.

He smirked when you called him 'Mister Kennedy,' finding your use of a formal title both amusing and endearing. "Please, call me Leon. 'Mister Kennedy' makes me feel old," he teased, his voice low and smooth.

You couldn’t help the small smile from reaching your lips, just minutes ago he beat you in a game of poker and yet, he didn’t make you feel bad for losing. You nodded at him, “Alright, I won’t.”

Then, one of the two bodyguards approached Leon, leaning down to his ear to whisper, “Sir, your presence is being requested on the tenth floor,” he whispered. Leon's expression, although unchanging, darkened at the bodyguard's words. He knew exactly what it meant for his presence to be "requested" on the tenth floor. But he didn't want to leave just yet. He was enjoying the time he had with you, he was enjoying your company and your sweet demeanor. If only he could stay a little bit longer.

He nodded at the bodyguard, silently signaling that he understood. He looked back at you, his expression softening once again.

"I have business to attend to," he said quietly, a hint of regret in his voice.

“Oh, right, yeah,” you muttered quickly under your breath as you stood up, fixing your outfit that you were wearing, “I shouldn’t take more of your time,” you said softly and politely, “It was nice meeting you, Leon. I hope to play with you in the future.”

Leon looked up at you as you stood up, his gaze following every movement. He could feel his heart skip a beat, he found you truly adorable. He felt a pang of disappointment when you mentioned not taking up more of his time. But he understood, he had responsibilities to take care of.

"The pleasure was all mine, darling," he said quietly, his voice slightly strained. He didn't want you to leave, but he had no choice.

“Sir,” one bodyguard spoke up from behind him, “Should we keep an eye on her?” He asked as the bodyguard’s gaze remained on your form, you were already standing by the bar drinking a damn fountain drink.

It was clear that the bodyguards were good at their job, they wanted to keep Leon safe since he was a mafia boss and enemies could be everywhere. Leon's gaze shifted from yours as he focused on his bodyguard's question. He could sense the slight tension in the air, the bodyguards were always cautious. But that was their job, to protect him at all costs.

He shook his head slightly, "No, that won't be necessary," he replied coldly, "She's harmless," he added, his eyes fixated on you once more.

“Yes sir,” the bodyguard said before the two bodyguards began to escort Leon to the elevator to get to the tenth floor. As Leon walked towards the elevator, escorted by his bodyguards, he couldn't help but glance back one last time, his eyes settling on your form at the bar.

He felt a twinge of something, was it concern? He wasn't sure. The thought of you being approached by someone else made him uneasy. But he had to remind himself that you weren't his responsibility.

He stepped into the elevator, his mind still occupied with thoughts of you.

"Watch her," he muttered to his bodyguards, "make sure no one goes near her."

The bodyguard nodded before stepping out of the elevator and went over to watch from a distance to not scare me off.

He was left with the other bodyguard and as they reached the tenth floor, the doors opened to reveal a very expensive suite, “Ah, Leon,” the voice of a man rang as he approached Leon.

The man was no other than a guy that went by an alias, “Kyle”, for safety reasons, “Glad you could make it,” he was dressed in nothing but a bathrobe, the belt tight around his waist to keep him from flashing anyone. Kyle was a character, that much was clear. Greeting Leon as if they were old friends.

"Cut the pleasantries," Leon replied coolly as he strode past Kyle, into the extravagant suite. Despite his cold exterior, his mind was still occupied by thoughts of you.

Kyle laughed and followed after Leon, “Always cutting to the chase, huh, amigo?” He said the Spanish word in a terrible accent, he didn’t even know Spanish.

Kyle was truly one of a kind but he was an ally to Leon’s mafia. Matter of fact, he provided Leon with the newest weapons from an Italian manufacturer. Illegal weapon trafficking.

“Got some new ladies you might want to see,” he said as he walked in front of Leon, guiding him to his room. As he entered his room, the sheets were messy and two naked women laid on the bed. With a flick of his wrist, the ladies stepped out of the room, giving Leon a wink.

As they entered the room, Leon couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sight of the naked women on the bed. Was this really necessary?

"I'm not interested," he said bluntly, his cold tone sending a clear message. Despite his outwardly tough demeanor, Leon disliked the lifestyle that Kyle embodied.

Kyle definitely had a typical lifestyle of a play boy, always finding girls to sleep with as he spends money on expensive champagne and clothes. But he was a good provider for the mafia. Kyle was needed; a necessary evil.

But Leon wasn’t a womanizer like that, especially with the way he treated you. Kyle chuckled and shook his head, “Oh, I think you will,” he muttered before I retrieved a box and opened it. Leon's expression changed. The sight of the new weapons in the box piqued his interest.

“Got these new ladies fresh from Rome,” he said, revealing new manufactured guns, “These are in beta testing but their purpose isn’t like regular guns—no. These babies hold up to thrice the ammunition and can fire double bullets at the same time.”

He could already see the potential these guns held. The extra ammunition and the ability to fire double bullets at once could give his men an advantage in a dangerous situation.

"Interesting," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on the guns. Despite his dislike for Kyle's lifestyle, Leon had to admit he knew how to source the best weapons.

"How did you get your hands on these?" he asked, his voice now lacking any hostility.

Kyle shrugged and leaned back, “I sent a blueprint last month over to my manufacturer in Italy. Said he’d give it a try. He experimented here and there right before he sent me these prototypes.”

“But I don’t recommend using them yet,” he said as he walked over to stand next to Leon, draping an arm around Leon’s shoulders as if they were best friends.

“Something about them probably not working and backfiring. Blah, blah, blah. You know the nerd stuff,” he said.

Leon's brow furrowed as he heard Kyle's words. Using untested weapons could be risky, especially if they had the potential for a devastating recoil. He pushed Kyle's arm off his shoulders, his expression turning cold again. He wasn't fond of being touched, especially by someone like Kyle.

"Then why show them to me if they might not work?" he asked with a hint of irritation in his voice. He preferred to focus on proven weapons, not experimental ones.

As his arm was pushed off his shoulders, Kyle wasn’t a bit ashamed, “Well, before we proceed with the testing, we needed your approval.”

Then, Kyle grew a bit serious, which only ever happened once a fortnight. He leaned closer to Leon to whisper in his ear, “I’ve heard that there’s been recent suspicious activity up north where the colony is. This is just a precaution because I don’t want anyone stealing my guns.”

Ever since Leon became the new mafia boss, which was years ago, many other bosses have tried to take him down. Even if it meant stealing his resources. Despite his disdain for Kyle, Leon couldn't ignore the serious look on his face. He knew that when Kyle spoke like this, he wasn't messing around.

"Suspicious activity, you say?" he replied, his voice low and calculating. He didn't appreciate being targeted, especially by other mafia bosses, "Any idea who might be behind it?"

He shrugged and shook his head, “No, there’s no idea who it might be but I’ve heard rumors that it’s someone who’s after your territory.”

Kyle sighed and stored the guns away once more, “In any case. Call me up if you change your plan, I’ll send word to Italy to keep producing and testing. Until then,” he said before he patted Leon on the shoulder and walked out of his room saying, “Alright, ladies, who’s ready for some sexy time on the jacuzzi?”

Leon watched as Kyle left the room, rolling his eyes at the man's behavior. Despite Kyle's eccentricities and playboy lifestyle, he couldn't deny that he was an asset to the mafia. As the sound of laughter and splashing water came from the jacuzzi, Leon turned his attention back to the matter at hand. The possibility of someone targeting his territory unsettled him.

With a deep sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts once again drifting to you. He couldn't seem to get you off his mind.

“Do you want to go back to the main floor, Sir?” His bodyguard asked. Leon's eyes went to his bodyguard, and he nodded.

"Yes," he said simply. He had to go back to the main floor. He knew that his bodyguards had been instructed to keep an eye on you, and he was curious to see if you were still there.

As he stepped out of the room, he couldn't help but glance over at the bar. He could see you sitting there, sipping on a Dr. Pepper. Despite the presence of his bodyguard, he took a subtle step closer, watching you from a distance.

Now the three men were watching you, Leon with his two bodyguards behind him. They were no longer on the tenth floor and instead were on the main floor where you were.

“Who is she, boss?” One bodyguard asked. They had seen Leon play with you for a few rounds but they didn’t hear your conversation. Of how he forgave your debt and asked for your name, but they did see him kiss your hand. Leon's gaze never left you, his eyes watching your every move. He could feel the curiosity of his bodyguards, they had clearly noticed his interaction with you.

“Do you know her?” The other bodyguard asked. They still kept professional but their curiosity was high. They’ve never seen Leon talk to a woman before, he’d usually brush them off because he knew they were after his money.

"She's nobody," Leon replied, his voice cold and distant. Even though he had shown you a rare moment of humanity, he didn’t want his bodyguards to think he had a “soft spot”, especially towards a stranger.

"She's just a poker player, that's all," he added, dismissing their curiosity. But his eyes told a different story, he couldn't tear his gaze away from you.

“A terrible one,” one commented, “A Diamond queen and clover king against your straight flush… she’s got confidence.”

“Or maybe she didn’t know. Our boss holds a really good poker face,” the other replied. Which was true, Leon was a damn good poker player but you also didn’t play like a professional. You barely knew what you were doing.

You turned around to get your bag from the stool next to your standing form, seemingly finished with your drink and getting ready to pay for it.

Leon's eyes followed your every movement, his mind racing, "She was a challenge,” he said quietly, his voice betraying a hint of amusement. Despite your lack of skill, he had enjoyed playing with you, it had been surprisingly fun.

As he saw you turn to retrieve your bag, he felt a strange pang in his chest. He didn’t want you to leave yet. He took a step forward, his bodyguards following closely behind him.

You were too busy looking through your bag, pulling out your wallet and counting the bills you had to pay your tab. Would it even be considered a tab if you got non-alcoholic drinks? You didn’t notice Leon returning at all, his bodyguards didn’t say anything. They knew better than to prod at his life choices. If anything, they’d just keep a more careful eye on you to make sure nothing bad happened.

“Hold on—“ you said to the bartender as you counted your coins to give him the exact number of your total.

As you began counting your coins to pay the bartender, he couldn't help but step forward and reach into his pocket, "I'll cover it," he said, his voice firm and commanding. He felt strangely compelled to take care of you, even in this small gesture.

You straightened up at the sound of his voice, your heart jumped and beat quickly as you whipped your head to look at none other than Leon. Always a true gentleman.

“I—“ you said as yoi looked at him and the bartender before you looked back at his blue eyes, “No, it’s okay. I’ve got this,” you said quietly. He’d already forgiven your debt and now he wants to pay for your drinks?

Leon's expression remained stoic as he heard your protest. He didn't expect you to be so modest and determined to pay for your own drinks. But he found it endearing.

"It's not a problem," he replied, his voice firm. He could sense your guilt, but he didn’t want you to feel like a charity case. He genuinely wanted to take care of you, even if it was in small ways. He slid a few bills to the bartender, paying for your drinks and closing the tab before you could argue further.

Your cheeks blushed again as you looked away, you’ve never had anyone take care of you like he has, “You’re too kind,” you muttered in a flustered tone.

He was already breaking his own rules because the bodyguards seemed to have picked up on some details. It wasn’t common for them to see Leon be so… interested in a woman. Much less someone like you but they found it oddly endearing. Secretly cheering for their boss.

Leon was taller than you so you had to look up at him, “Did everything go well with your business?” You asked genuinely. Leon's expression softened slightly as he saw your flushed cheeks and your sincere question. He was unused to caring about someone’s well being, but he found himself wanting to share a bit with you.

"Yes, business went well," he confirmed, his voice remaining cool and collected. But there was a hint of tiredness in his eyes, the stresses of being a mafia boss often taking a toll on him.

He studied you for a moment, his gaze calculating but not unkind. "And how have you been?" he asked, surprising himself with his own question.

“Oh, you know,” you faintly shrugged your shoulders as you pointed towards the bar, “I stayed there the whole time. I don’t like wandering on my own. Lots of… creeps out here, y’know?”

But he wasn’t a creep. He was far from it. Leon was a gentleman, a man who knew how to treat women right.

Leon chuckled, a rare sound coming from him, at your straightforward answer. He found it refreshing how honest you were, unlike the fake smiles and flattery he usually received from people.

His eyes swept the casino floor, full of various people, men, and women. He knew you were right about the creeps that roamed around, especially with a pretty face like yours.

"You're right about the creeps," he agreed, his voice low and protective. "A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be out here alone."

Your cheeks blushed again when he said you were pretty, why was he so casual with the compliments?! But nevertheless, you couldn’t stop the smile forming on your lips, “Yeah… I was about to leave since it was getting late, actually,” you said as you quickly remembered what you were doing.

“I was going to get an Uber and go back home. I should probably practice my poker skills too,” you said with a small smile. Leon's gaze darkened slightly at the mention of you leaving. He didn't want this night to end, not when he'd enjoyed your company more than he thought he would.

He took a step closer, shortening the distance between you. "An Uber?" he repeated, his voice taking on a hint of disapproval. "With all the creepers out there?"

He paused, seeming to consider something before speaking again. "Let me give you a ride home," he offered, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your eyes widened a bit and your breath hitched when he stepped closer to you and offered you a ride home. You should’ve said no but for some reason, you felt safe in his presence. You slowly nodded your head, feeling like you shouldn’t reject his offer. He’s been kind to you and you wanted to be kind as well, “Only if it’s not a burden.”

“I’d hate to shift your plans for the night. I don’t want to be an inconvenience,” you said with a nervous laugh as you played with your hands.

Leon couldn't help but chuckle at your words and the nervousness in your laugh. You were clearly unused to being cared for like this, but it was almost endearing to see you flustered. He shook his head, his expression serious. "It's not a burden," he reassured you. "And you're not an inconvenience. I wouldn't offer unless I meant it."

He motioned for his bodyguards to follow as he put a hand gently on your lower back, beginning to guide you towards the exit. You gathered your things, which was just your purse, and let him guide you towards the exit. His bodyguards were shocked to say the least. They knew Leon didn’t like to be touched or touch other people but here he was, gently putting his hand on you to guide you out of the building. They were in for a fun ride.

As you made it out and stepped outside, you were met with wind. The wind blew over your form, goosebumps on your skin as you wrapped your arms over your chest to give yourself some heat. Leon noticed your body shiver, the cool night air obviously getting to you. He was so used to suppressing his own physical needs that he had briefly forgotten that you weren’t built for the harsher elements like he was.

"Here," he said gruffly. He removed his black jacket and gently placed it around your shoulders, his fingers lingering for a moment on the fabric.

The black suit jacket was big on you but it was so warm, it even smelled like his cologne and you felt your cheeks flare up. He smelled good, “Thank you,” you said as you looked up at him.

A black car pulled in front of you, it was fancy and the black was matte. No doubt, the latest car. Just how rich was he? One of the bodyguards moved towards the door and opened it for the two of you. Leon nodded in acknowledgement of your thanks, his eyes never leaving yours, "After you," he said, gesturing for you to get into the car first. His voice was gruff, but there was a warm undertone in it.

He waited, standing by the car door, until you climbed in, before he slid into the seat beside you, closing the door behind him. The bodyguards climbed into the front seat, the engine purring softly to life.

No one would’ve believed them if they said that Leon was warm and kind. They’ve seen the type of ruthless man he could be, he was a mafia boss! Hence why the bodyguards were shocked. They’ve never seen him act this way with anyone.

You sat next to Leon, your thighs pressed together and your form still wearing his black suit jacket, “Thank you,” you said before you climbed to sit next to him. You were new to the whole taken care of thing. Leon felt a pang of something unfamiliar in his chest when you thanked him again. It was as if you weren’t used to being treated like this, but he found himself wanting to give you more. He felt the strange urge to wrap you in his arms, to keep you close and away from the world.

He let out a low hum of acknowledgment. "You don’t need to keep thanking me," he said quietly, his voice low and rough.

You softy laughed at his words despite his low and rough voice, “Sorry, force of habit. I’m not used to people being so kind to me. Especially after playing Poker with me,” you replied with a small but genuine smile.

“Most guys would either just get mad at me for beating them or they would humiliate me further for beating me,” you said quietly, your hands laying on your lap as you looked down at them.

Then you glanced back at him, “But you’re different. I think… I like to have you as my opponent… if you’d let me,” but it was more than just Poker, right? It was about connecting, about seeing him again. His expression softened as you spoke again, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, "You like having me as your opponent, huh?" he said, his voice holding a hint of amusement.

He reached out, his hand gently resting on top of yours, his touch calloused but surprisingly gentle, "You don’t even know what you’re asking for."

Your breath hitched and you looked down at his hand on top of yours. Even though he’d held your hand and kissed it, you still got flustered.

But he was right. Essentially, you didn’t even know him. You met him today and lost a poker game. But something in you wanted to keep seeing him, you didn’t want to let such a kind man go.

“I can learn,” you whispered. This went beyond poker, even though you spoke about it, hidden words were conveyed. You didn’t know what you were asking for, not knowing he was in the mafia. Leon's smirk grew at your words, a hint of something more behind it. He could hear the double meaning in your words, and it sent a thrill through him. Here you were, this timid, pretty thing, wanting to get to know him better.

His fingers gently squeezed your hand as he spoke, his voice low. "You’re a fast learner, I bet," he said, his eyes never leaving yours.

But then his expression darkened slightly, the reality of his world intruding on the moment. He was a mafia boss, and you… you were innocent and pure.

You nodded, “I like learning things. Knowledge is power, is what George Orwell said once,” you muttered. Leon's smirk turned into a half-smile at your mention of George Orwell. This girl was full of surprises. It seemed to him that you were more than just a pretty face working as a pit boss.

His grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if reflexively trying to keep a grip on you. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, he should let you go before you get swept into the dangerous world he lived in.

But something about you was making him greedy. The Mafia Boss never had to worry about letting go before, now, he didn’t want to.

You felt his hand tighten around yours and you didn’t want to let go yet. Once you reached your apartment, you looked at him and leaned towards his face to whisper, “Think it over,” you whispered, your brows furrowing a bit before you let go of his hand and got out of the car.

Leon's eyes widened slightly at your whisper, your unexpected boldness sending a jolt of surprise, and something else through him. You'd just told him to think things over, as if it was a date that you were asking him on. But before he could open his mouth to reply, you had already slipped out of the car, leaving him a bit taken aback.

He stayed sitting in his seat for a beat, his fingers clenching the leather, his eyes fixed on your figure. You were playing with fire, and you didn’t even realize it.

You were about to walk into your apartment when you realized you were still wearing his suit jacket. You quickly ran back towards the car and slipped it the jacket off, giving him an awkward smile, “I, uh…”

“Almost forgot this,” you muttered softly, the pink hue on your cheeks not leaving any time soon. Leon took the jacket in his hands, his gaze lingering on you as you handed it to him. He took in your flushed cheeks, your awkward smile, and it sent a pang through his chest.

He wanted to reach out, to touch your cheek, to do something to keep you from leaving. But instead, he simply folded the jacket over his arm, his fingers tracing the fabric.

"Keep it," he said, his voice rough. "It looks better on you."

Your eyes widened a bit and your lips parted into a small ‘Oh’ when he gave you the jacket once more. To which you slowly took, you didn’t want to be greedy but you loved the way it smelled.

“Thank you,” you whispered sincerely, “For tonight.”

The offer still stood. You were willing to throw yourself down into a fire if it meant getting to know him better. Isn’t that what Poker is about? To understand your opponent? But this wasn’t about Poker anymore.

Leon clenched his jaw as he watched your expression, your sincere thanks only making it harder for him to let you go. Your naivete was like a double-edged sword - it drew him in but also made him hesitant.

But he wasn’t some saint. No, far from it. He was a Mafia Boss, and he wasn’t used to denying himself.

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking with yours, his voice a rough, quiet murmur. “When can I see you again?”

You stared at him through the window, a bit surprised that he wanted to see you again. You were just some idiot poker player and yet… was he actually considering seeing you again?

You stood there in shock for a few seconds like an absolute idiot before you realized you hadn’t said anything. Your cheeks flushed and you quickly cleared your throat, “Uh—“

He paused, his eyes roaming over you, taking in your flushed cheeks, your uncertainty. It was a new sight for him, having a woman so clearly out of his world be so... vulnerable.

“You want to see me again?” You asked unsure. Leon’s lips quirked up into a small smirk at your reaction, your surprise and confusion only endearing you to him more. You were just so damn endearing. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes never leaving yours, his gaze sharp, “Yes, I want to see you again.”

“Well, I’m free this Saturday… if you want to—I dunno—go out…?”

“Saturday it is, then. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

This time, you couldn’t help the smile that reached your lips. Was he truly taking you out on a date? You nodded your head at him, your lips curling up into a genuine smile, “Alright…” you muttered quietly, “I’ll see you then. You know where I live anyway.”

He offered you a ride and now knows where you lived, but somehow, you felt comfortable with him knowing, “Goodnight, Leon.”

You walked backwards, looking at him for as long as possible before eventually turning around to get into your apartment. Leon watched as you retreated back into your apartment, his gaze following your every move. There was a strange flutter in his chest, something that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Something that he thought he had lost.

When you disappeared from sight, he let out a low, rough exhale, running his hand through his short hair. This was dangerous, getting close to you, but he couldn’t seem to find it in himself to care.

“Goodnight, doll,” he murmured, watching your door close behind you.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

you are love itself (君は愛そのものだ)

cw. fem!reader, childhood friend au, established relationship, love as worship, love as a choice, reader has a defined devil fruit ability

pairing. portgas d. ace x reader

synopsis. his skin is dotted in stardust.

notes. a 1.3k look into those short moments of privacy you have with ace on the moby. i got the title from 'therefore you and me' after rewatching this amazing asl brothers animatic for the billionth time. cover comes klimt's the kiss (1908).

Everything is made of stardust; the stars that made Ace are simply visible to the eye.

They couldn't be contained in the depths of his body like the rest of the world's inhabitants. It's scattered all across his skin in a beautiful display, matching the skies they fell from. Isn't that something? You brush a hand against warm skin in awe. It's all right there. The stars themselves rest upon his skin, how beautiful is that? How could anyone want someone like that dead?

When you were children, Ace told you he would bring you the moon.

What do you need the moon for when you've been touching the stars since you were 10?

Straddling his lap, you can't help laughing as you think you'd been fighting a losing battle from the start. From the beginning, you'd been drawn to Ace and his stars and you wanted to follow where they'd go for the rest of your life.

"What's so funny?" Ace murmurs into your shoulder.

"I think I was born to love you." It is the only plausible conclusion for you to reach after 10 years of loving the same person. For the half of your life you've known him, you've chosen Ace from day one. You will continue to choose him for the rest of the life you have. You chose to chase him all around Mt. Corvo, you chose to be his friend, you chose to join his crew and your heart chose him even if your head had been slow to realize. "We don't need to find the One Piece," you murmur as you lead a trail of kisses from his shoulder to Ace's cheek. "I already have everything the world has to offer right here."

You feel Ace stiffen beneath you before he laughs sheepishly, "I think you need to have your eyes checked if you think that."

"Hey," you lean back so you can see his face. Your brows are furrowed sternly but your eyes sparkle with mischief and your lips stretch into a challenging grin. "I have better eyes than you, I can see the soul."

Ace snorts but his voice is light and as warm as the smile painting his face, "souls of the dead, yeah." Smiles suit Ace more than the frowns that were once commonplace when you were younger.

"That still counts," you protest with a chuckle. He doesn't have to believe he's worthy of it, you'll tell Ace all the same. You cup his face in your hands and enjoy the vibration of his mellifluous laughter under your fingers tips as you squeeze his cheeks. "There's a lot you can learn about this sort of stuff when you can see the dead." How the soul carries its wounds even after death. How the soul carries the essence of everything that makes something itself. How love can carry on beyond the grave.

You've seen it countless times by now in your truthfully short time of being a power holder.

The spirit of a man who wanted a few berries to leave as a surprise his husband could stumble upon to brighten his day.

An elderly woman dancing in the town square, seemingly alone following the steps she took with her lost love long ago. Unbeknownst to her, however, her love danced with all the same as they did once a long time ago.

Pods of orcas full of members past and present, refusing to part from their birth pod even in death.

How beautiful it is, a love like that.

Even while deceased, they choose to remain by their beloved all the same.

Whenever it is Ace's time, he'll take his stars with him and they will rest on his skin just as they did when he was alive. But I'll make sure you're so happy you won't want to stay, you vowed when you partook of the sea's cursed fruit. You carry this vow even now. Ace will die a happy death but more importantly, he will live a long and mirthful life.

(You can tell for as sure as your eyes are dry; the urge to cry and scream in mourning and warning nonexistent. Still it's your heart's desire that you go first so you don't ever have to risk the day you know death will come for Portgas D. Ace.)

"You know what I think," you cease your pinching, letting your lax thumbs stroke his face. Dark eyes look up at you like you're a dream and gold like sunlight rests in your chest. It's light yet heavy and even if your heart is calm, its rhythmic beating tells you something precious. And he's so, so precious. "I think that when people move on, they're reborn as someone else. Then they get to live life all over again. And one day, that's gonna happen to us."

Then you'll cease to be the 'you' you have been and so will he.

Maybe that time, you'll be raised in separate seas and there will be no trio of brothers you'll latch onto. Maybe he'll be born somewhere in Paradise but I'll be from the West Blue. Or maybe he'll be a fishman. Or a giant!

Maybe next time, Ace will be a short girl with firey auburn hair and chocolate brown eyes with the disposition to match. Or he'll be a scarred and gruff dragon moray eel fishman who is an overt romantic.

Maybe next time his stars will follow him as the marker that ties him to his previous life. Then you'll recognize him the moment you see him. But even if I don't, I'll love you then too. You don't need reminders of who he was to make you want him again.

Whatever the outcome may be, you will embrace it wholly.

"Whenever that happens, I'm gonna find you and I'm going to love you all over again. You can be a girl or a giant or a fishman." Or maybe he'll be the tiny human and you'll be the giant. It will be nice being taller than Ace for once, you tell him as much with a laugh. There's a spot of wetness at the corner of his eyes that you wipe away instinctively. "Or… maybe this world runs in one big loop and we get to be us again but that time we get to make different choices. Do the stuff we didn't do last time. But regardless of all the different things I might end up doing, the one thing that is gonna stay the same is that I'll choose you all over again."

There's a pause before Ace ducks from your gaze with a wet laugh, forehead pressed against your shoulder again. The unmistakeable feel of warm droplets subsequently follow. "Thatch must be cutting onions," he chuckles weakly. "Sorry."

"Dummy," you wrap your arms around his shoulders and inhale his scent. There's a natural sweetness to it you can't explain; it's sweet but there is a peppery kick. It's been that way since the first day you met him. I love him, I love him, I love him. The sentiment echoes throughout your entire being. "it's okay to cry."

"Would you really want me again?" His voice is soft and unsure like a young bird who doesn't know if it can trust its wings.

Who else would I want?

Why would I want anyone else?

I've known you for 10 years, Ace. There's nothing about you I don't want.

"Over and over again," you kiss his temple once, twice and then a third time before you lift his head and kiss the corners of his eyes. "It's you and no one else."

A noise of surprise escapes you when Ace's lips press against your own but you relax a beat later, humming tenderly. You relish every sensation, how his arms wrap around you tight and how his fingers gently dig into your back. The taste of salt on your lips is akin to the ocean and your heartbeat reverberates throughout your chest.

Yes, it's telling you something precious.

[stormblessed95]

Watching Are You Sure?! EP 7

A reminder of how I do these reaction posts as I watch things. I just write my reactions and thoughts down literally they happen. Think more of a bullet point format. I'll include links when I can to videos, thanks to the people who twt who upload clips. And at the end, I'll do a better wrap up of all my opinions. I hope everyone enjoyed the show so far!!

Not this show starting off with a mistaken identity trip!! Lol Jimin saying that he only went snowboarding once before and it was with JK. And JK was so confused. You could see him searching the files in his brain lmfao. Jimin's oh wait! I went with your friends 😂😂 okay, just hanging out with JKs friends on your own? It's giving couple. I can't lie. I'm sorry. What in the best friend?! 😂😂 I loved the facial expressions and the way Jimin buried his face into Jungkookie there too

Jimin listening to hate you. And JKs why are you listening to that? Jimin: because I like it 😳 lmao I agree Jimin, it was abrupt 😂😂

Their appreciation for their crew is 😍😍

Jk dozing off to Jimin's softly singing. It's giving the same vibes as that one run episode that he dozed off to Jimin's ASMR. Idk what that's giving exactly.... But it's giving *something* and you know what it is

"this is our last moment of relaxation. I love it" 😭

Not JK just chopping at his hair like that. Oh baby lol don't look at me like this is my fault!! It's okay, fucking up your hair and needing to make it much shorter than originally planned is a life right of passage lol

Not JKs haircut transporting Jimin back in time 10 years 😂😂😂

The staff giggling and immediately taking photos 😂 BTS are their babies lol

Jimin hurting himself and shouting oh shit 😂😂 the subtitles trying to sensor him without bleeping his actual words 😂🤣 subtitles should be accurate above all else people! Cmon! Lol

Jimin moaning and groaning while transferring tubs, sitting on the edge, etc and JK just looks like he is enjoying the show the whole time. There is so much ass on display in the shorts they are wearing in this whole scene. Where is the decorum?! Lol!

Turning off the cameras to shower together before the Jacuzzi. Very innocent, but sounds like it could be so not 🤣😂

JKs faces when trying to handle to cold tub 😂😂

"feel how cold I am" better translated to "just hug me once" and the immediate hug and the hand placement to feel the cold? Yeah okay 🤣

Anyone remember the emojis over the barest slips of tummy during anything? Now they are showing them wash themselves and rub their own muscles in a cold tub and show off flexing to the camera. What the fuck Hybe 🤣🤣🤣

Soundproof Sauna to their matching PJs and eating a whole feast 🥰

The way they giggle together is my favorite thing

JK watching Jimin making his this crab is so good video so endeared 🥰😂😍

Jimin insisted on JK trying the shrimp too because it was so amazing instead of eating the last of the shrimp even though he loved it so much. And JK sharing half his urchin with Jimin because it was so yummy. Cute. They are so precious to each other

Jimin wants seconds, JK says it's a bad idea. They order seconds 😂😂😂

I both love and hate watching them eat. Because I think watching people eat is gross and I stand by that. Lol but they love it so much and look so happy, I also just enjoy seeing them enjoy themselves. It's a complicated mix of emotions I experience 😂

The trend continues of brushing their teeth together. Jimin, the mischief maker, kicks JK during their teeth brushing?? Lol and takes a selfie of them too. Share it please?

"I'm going to pass out after this, especially if we get massages" JK " we are getting massages?!" No lmfao you silly goose, that was 100% Jimin hinting at wanting a massage 😂🤣😂🤣

Not them being super sleepy, yet still annoying each other on purpose by flashing lights at each other 😂

Jimin asking JK if he is too hot, probably knowing already he gets too hot at night. But instead of changing the temperature when he did wake up too hot, knowing Jimin was comfy with how it was, JK just moved to the living room. And Jimin waking him up by so softly petting his head 🥺🥺🥺

Are they advertising sunscreen? Lol it worked. I wanted to go get some 😂😂

Jimin fighting for his LIFE in the shower. Wtf was happening?!! Lmao and JK finishing up his breakfast before going into the bathroom to shower while Jimin was still in the shower it sounded like. Lol ALRIGHT. Hope you both enjoyed said shower I guess 😅😂🤣

Why are we play fighting while getting dressed boys?! Lmao

Jimin starting a pretend photoshoot with the ski jacket and gear. Absolutely, yes please

Jimin is such a good boyfriend bringing JKs jacket back out to him

Jimin just enjoying sitting in the car while JK goes in to order 😂😂 good for him! JK telling him he only ordered food for himself and none for Jimin, only to say "here is our food" when it arrived 😂 what a jokester lol

Jimin feeding Jungkook while he is driving 🥺

Jimin joking about an AYS OST. Please please please give it to us though for real

Singing random love songs for a game! Where JK interrupted Jimin singing the line "the person I love is gone" to sing "I love you" three times lol okay got it

The way JK always stops to just stare at Jimin until he gets his reaction to whatever he is doing or wearing is always so cute. Especially because he always smiles so cutely after Jimin gives him his desired compliment 💜❤️

JK adjusting Jimin's googles for him 🥺

The way that JK checks in on Jimin first to make sure he is actually okay before teasing him about being scared lol it's sweet and cute

The hysterical cut of JK shredding down the slope to Jimin laying in the snow 😂😂😂😂 Jimin and his staff member literally falling over each other 🤣🤣🤣 I'm dying lmao!

Jimin ditching his helmet with how often he falls is stressing me out lmfao he looks gorgeous though!

Skiing would be fun too he says, turning to Jimin with a hopefully sparkle in his eyes that he knows Jimin can't say no to. Camera cuts to them on skis 😂 JK, I love and adore you. Never change

Wrap up thoughts:

They showered/bathed together 3 times in one episode and thats insane. Lmao whatever guys 😂 this was just an excellent episode showcasing their closeness, their intimacy, their silliness, their individuality and their soft spoken nature with each other. It showed the way they consistently consider each other, what the other wants and needs. I don't think I have anything to expand on from what I've already said above. I really loved this episode. Fully plan on the last episode making me cry.

All purple links in my post go back to @dstdes with video clips of the moment being talked about. I did use a few twitter clips as well, sorry. Thanks for reading!

[saphfix]

THE ART OF WINNING

01. WINNER’S MENTALITY

“WHEN YOU HEAR THE PHRASE WINNER’S MENTALITY, WHAT IS THE FIRST THING THAT COMES TO MIND?”

“Uh…” Anastasia nervously laughs, her mind shooting to one specific moment in her life. “Pretty much being told at sixteen years old that I wasn’t good enough, and never would be good enough.”

The interviewer nods, signaling for Anastasia to continue on. She shifts uncomfortably before clearing her throat to continue.

“Getting invited to USA Basketball was my dream come true. For a young basketball player—even for older basketball players—it feels like a rite of passage, a message to yourself that you’ve made it.”

Anastasia fiddles with her hands, the memory flooding back to her. “And that was the case for me, except, it didn’t take very long at all for it to end up becoming my worst nightmare instead.”

MAY 25TH, 2017

OLYMPIC TRAINING CENTER

COLORADO SPRINGS, COLORADO

The first day jitters were not wearing off. All day long they’ve seemed to have only gotten worse. It amazed Anastasia how people could connect with one another so easily.

One person in specific, Paige Bueckers, had everyone’s attention. The girl was already a well-known name, and was as close as a 15 year old could be to a professional.

But what really intrigued Anastasia about her was her charisma. How she managed to form friendships with some of the other girls who were also trying out in just a span of hours.

It took Anastasia years to connect with her highschool teammates back home, and she still isn’t nearly as close to any of them as they are with each other.

She watched on alone in the corner of the cafeteria, sliding her food around her plate in circles. Paige on the other hand, somehow had a full table of girls surrounding her, every single one of them laughing and reacting to whatever show she was currently putting on.

It was never that easy for Anastasia, and she fears it never will be.

When practice resumed, she instantly felt much better. That’s the beauty of a basketball court, when you’re on it everyone is the same, at least to a certain extent. It’s safe to say there are levels to it all, just like everything else in this world. Some people turn into an entirely different person when they step onto the laminated wood, but Anastasia doesn’t have that switch. It’s the thing that sets her apart from everyone else.

She’s static, always the same.

After returning to the bench for a group rotation, Anastasia was quick to notice the body language of the girl seated next to her. As soon as she sat down, the girl slightly turned away, as if Anastasia disgusted her or something.

Anastasia ignored it, wondering if she was thinking too much of it. That is until she realizes the girl seemed to be itching to tell her something.

“Do you have something to say—”

Almost immediately the girl cuts her off. “You’re too tense.” She says.

“Too tense?” Anastasia responds, taken aback. She screws the lid to her water bottle closed before setting it down. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The girl never once looks in Anastasia’s direction, her eyes glued to the court. “When you’re bringing the ball up, you’re too tense, that’s why your shots not falling. You’re also not releasing them quick enough given your power is unbalanced throughout your whole body.”

Anastasia stares in disbelief. Her audacity is mind blowing.

“It should be effortless, a more fluid motion.” She continues on. “You should use more of the strength in your legs because right now, you look like you have a stick up your ass.”

“Excuse me?” Anastasia finally asks. It was almost scary how she was saying all of this with a straight face. She really meant every word leaving her lips, leaving Anastasia feeling more insecure than ever.

The whistle blows, meaning the next group was being rotated in. The girl stands to her feet, finally looking in Anastasia’s direction. “Just watch.”

And though Anastasia is still fuming with all the words she was ready to say looming around her mind, she watches. She watches as the large 223 painted across the brunettes practice jersey fades further away onto the court.

As soon as she gets ahold of the ball, she handles it like it’s not even there in her hands. She’s careless, almost too careless. You can tell by her stance, her gait, that confidence radiates off of her when she’s on the court.

She has the switch.

It almost feels like a slap in the face when she effortlessly pulls left and chucks up a 3 pointer at least five feet behind the arc, leaving her defender diving in an attempt to block. However, she comes up short, leaving Anastasia to watch in both awe and despair as it rattles in. The whistle blows faster than ever before, leaving some of the girls on the court and even some of the coaches jaw dropped.

She just ended a play in seconds without the ball ever entering anyone else’s hands.

Later that night, Anastasia found herself FaceTiming her parents, telling them about what she had seen earlier today. I mean, it was unforgettable.

In all honesty, it made her a little scared. These girls were all so good. She was starting to feel like maybe she was in over her head. That maybe making the team was just an unachievable and unrealistic dream.

“Honey, if you didn’t deserve to be there, you wouldn’t be.” Her dad comforts, the empathetic smile evident on his face.

He was always so understanding, so supportive. A far different approach from her mother, who always manages to crash the moment.

“You can’t just always live in fear.” Her mom routinely chirps up. Right on time. She always has something to counter what her father says. "Comparison kills." Her mother adds on.

“I don’t—" Anastasia begins, but sighs. As much as she hated to admit it to herself, she knew her mom was right. She wasn't going to admit it out loud though. "It’s not living in fear or comparison to acknowledge the fact that some of these girls are better than me."

“And who says they’re better?��� Her mom asks.

Anastasia chews on the inside of her cheek, staying silent. She has a point.

Her dad sighs before deciding to weigh in again. “You made it to next round with the rest of them meaning you’re just as good as they are, don’t forget that.”

Anastasia nods, her mind going back to the memory of what happened earlier. The way the girl’s eyes locked onto hers as she walked off the court, leaving Anastasia unsure if she was taunting her, or simply making sure she saw what she wanted her to see.

“Well, we love you Stas, You should get some rest." Her dad says.

“Yeah, I probably should. Love you guys too.” She says before hanging up.

MAY 26TH, 2017

58. Out of the 133 girls here yesterday, 58 remain. More than half of them were cut, leaving Anastasia feeling a little better about being invited back for day two.

Caitlin. Caitlin Clark was her name. Anastasia had finally figured it out after hearing it what felt like a million times today.

They’d been playing 5x5 all morning long, having gone through at least hundreds of different group combinations. During their break, Coach had conjured up a list of 12 assigned groups, each having what she felt was the best fit for all position combinations together.

Paige was assigned the PG for group one, Caitlin for group two, Anastasia for group three, and so on and so forth. Given there were 58 of them, each team needing five players, they were just barely short.

“We’re two short.” Coach informs everyone. “Groups 11 and 12 both need a shooting guard, any volunteers want to make this decision easy on your poor coach here?”

At first, no one says anything, everyone looking around at one another. The bystander effect was in full action.

“Don’t all jump at the opportunity at once.” Coach mumbles jokingly.

Anastasia studies both groups left, wondering if she should do it. Her mom’s words began echoing around her head. You can’t just always live in fear.

“I’ll do it.” Caitlin volunteers. Everyone now looks at Caitlin, some whispering picking up around the room.

“Shooting guard.” Coach reiterates. Caitlin shrugs, her face stoic as if she doesn’t care one bit about the minor difference in position. “Well alright.” Coach says, impressed.

“I’ll do it too.” Paige and Anastasia say at the same time. Anastasia looks over at her before stepping forward further. “I’ll do it.” She says again.

Paige throws her hands up concedingly. “Ight, you got it.”

Coach claps, satisfied at the resolved issue. “Perfect. Groups one and two are going first. Winners and losers bracket, you all should know the ropes.”

The groups dismantle, groups one and two staying on the court, the rest heading to the bleachers. Anastasia begins on her way after everyone else, before she notices footsteps following behind her.

“Why did you do that?” Caitlin asks.

“Why did I do what?” Anastasia asks continuing to walk towards the bleachers.

Caitlin grabs onto her arm, pulling her to face her. “Why did you volunteer?”

Anastasia looks down at Caitlin’s hand before snatching her arm away. “Someone had to.”

“Paige tried, you should’ve let her.”

“And why’s that?” Anastasia asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but just stay out of my way.” Caitlin threatens.

“Or what?” Anastasia asks without hesitation. Caitlin almost looks taken aback by the response. Almost. “Or what?” Anastasia repeats.

“Caitlin, come on!” Coach calls from the court.

Caitlin stares her down, before slowly turning away, lightly jogging back to the court.

What the fuck was her problem?

Anastasia finds a lone seat on the bleachers, making it her own personal mission to study every inch of Caitlin’s gameplay possible. More specifically, what she was best at, and what she was worst at.

It didn't take much time for Anastasia to pinpoint her fatal flaw. Defense. The girl couldn't play defense if her life depended on it. Actually, it wasn't that she couldn't, it was like she just didn't want to. She looked miserable whenever she didn't have the ball and it showed. Bingo.

Anastasia notes that to herself, while also making sure to study her shooting and passing patterns, which seems to be her strong suit. She will make sure she goes against Caitlin in the final match, whether it be in the winners bracket or the losers bracket. Hell, maybe even both.

Caitlin's group manages the win over Paige's group thanks to some lucky out of this world pass Caitlin managed to just barely get inside to her post player.

"Alright groups three and four next!" Coach yells out from the whiteboard while writing group one into the losers bracket and group two into the winners.

Anastasia stands up, walking her way down the bleachers. She comes into earshot of Caitlin and Paige's conversation as she walks by.

"Damn." Paige curses once they're off the court, Caitlin giving her a gentle pat to the shoulder.

"Better luck next time." Caitlin laughs. "I bet you'll kill 'em over in the losers bracket though."

Anastasia wonders what magic Paige is really working with to get into Caitlin's good graces.

Maybe Anastasia was the problem.

Anastasia meets up with her group, and they quickly go over a few potential game plans. She can still hear Caitlin and Paige's conversation continuing on behind her, their laughter and banter a little more distracting than she'd wish it to be.

Once her team decides that they've got down few good plays, they head towards the court.

"Hey, you!" Paige calls out. Anastasia contemplates turning around but doesn't, figuring there's no chance she was talking to her. "Number 120!" Paige yells out again, Anastasia freezing in her tracks. She double checks her jersey number before slowly turning around.

"You better win so you can avenge me." Paige smiles.

Caitlin shoves Paige halfheartedly, letting out a laugh. She doesn't say it very loud, but Anastasia is fairly good at reading lips, and she swears Caitlin says, "No chance."

"I got you." Anastasia yells back to Paige, Caitlin's smile immediately wiping off her face.

She was going to destroy Caitlin Clark.

“HUMILITY, CAITLIN, IT’S SOMETHING YOU FOUND HARD TO LEARN EARLY ON IN YOUR LIFE. WHAT IMPORTANCE DOES IT HOLD NOW, AND LOOKING BACK, DO YOU WISH YOU HAD MORE OF IT THEN?”

“I’ve always had humility.” Caitlin defends. “I was young, yeah. Naive, sure. A nuisance, possibly…but I was never not humble.”

“What about USA basketball, were you an asshole then?” The reporter asks.

Caitlin furrows her eyebrows, sitting up even straighter in her chair. “Asshole? What makes you ask that?”

“No reason at all, that’s just a very important staple to your story.” The reporter half lies. “Tell us about your experience there.”

“It was great.” Caitlin lies.

The reporter shakes her head, not satisfied with the answer. “The truth.”

Caitlin sighs. “It’s one of my most regretted experiences in my life, is that what you want to hear?”

MAY 26TH, 2017

Caitlin Clark felt murderous. Anastasia’s team had won, moving them further in the bracket as well. She couldn’t believe Anastasia thinks she can beat her. It was all Caitlin could think about as she watches Anastasia sit at the bottom of the bleachers all alone.

Why wasn’t she attempting to connect with anyone around her?

Paige smacks Caitlin’s shoulder. “Yo, stop staring.”

“I’m not staring.” Caitlin lies. She turns around to face Paige, who was sitting awfully close to another player, Azzi. “Do you think she’s good?” Caitlin asks.

“Well she’s here, isn’t she?” Azzi answers sarcastically.

Caitlin rolls her eyes. “You know what I meant.”

“Come on, ask what you really wanna ask.” Paige says.

“What?” Caitlin asks.

“You wanna know if we think she’s better than you.” Paige laughs.

“No.” Caitlin scoffs. “I know she’s not better than me.”

“Geez, cocky much?” Azzi asks.

“Whatever.” Caitlin’s eyes find Anastasia again, who was now stretching her arms over her head. “Why do you think she’s not talking to anyone?”

“If you wanna talk to her just say that.” Paige teases, kneeing Caitlin in the back. “Want me to call her over?”

“No—”

“What’s her name?” Paige asks Azzi, ignoring Caitlin’s pleads.

“Stop don’t—” Caitlin interjects, just to be ignored again.

Azzi smirks before cupping her hands over her mouth. “Anastasia!”

Anastasia turns around and Caitlin glares at Azzi. “Why the fuck would you do that?” Caitlin asks.

Azzi waves her over and Anastasia stands, slowly making her way over. “Because now you can talk to her!” Azzi smiles.

“I hate you.” Caitlin mutters.

“I hate you more.” Azzi replies.

“Yes?” Anastasia questions slowly once she finally reaches the three of them, a confused looks on her face.

“Sit with us!” Azzi pats the spot in front of her with her foot.

Anastasia looks at the spot, then looks at Caitlin who’s in the spot right next to it. Caitlin avoids her gaze, looking back at the court.

“Okay, I guess.” Anastasia agrees, brushing past Caitlin.

“Where you from?” Paige asks, sitting up to start the conversation.

“Michigan.”

“Oh shit no way!” Paige gawks. “Michigan is sick.”

“Have you ever even been to Michigan?” Azzi laughs.

“Man!” Paige sucks her teeth. “Now you know I live right next door to Michigan, of course I’ve been!”

“What about you guys?” Anastasia asks.

“Virginia.” Azzi answers.

“Minnesota.” Paige says with a fake midwestern accent.

Anastasia nods, letting out a small laugh. “Cool.” She glances over at Caitlin, who once again pretends she doesn’t notice. “What about you?”

“Iowa.” Caitlin deadpans.

“Iowa…that’s a first.” Anastasia says, getting a laugh out of Paige and Azzi.

“Yeah, I’m one of a kind.” Caitlin says.

“Cocky.” Azzi mutters under her breath.

“Corny.” Paige whispers at the same time. The whistle blows, and the four of them look back to the court simultaneously. “Damn group nine won?” Paige asks.

“That’s a shocker.” Azzi says.

“Not really.” Caitlin counters. “Great offense trumps anything.”

“Of course you think that.” Anastasia criticizes, standing to her feet.

“Damn Caitlin, you gon take that?” Paige instigates, receiving a smack to the shoulder from Azzi.

“Stop trying to start shit!”

Caitlin stands to her feet, sizing up Anastasia. “Nah, I’m not gonna take that, I’m just gonna let my work on the court do the talking.”

“Famous last words.” Anastasia says, pushing past Caitlin. “You’ve never come across good D like this.”

“Yo pause!” Paige laughs, receiving another smack from Azzi.

“Stop being a freak!”

“If you think you’re taking both of your teams past quarterfinals, you’re delusional.” Caitlin says from behind Anastasia.

“Do you always speak before you think?” Anastasia asks continuing on her way down the bleachers.

“I speak and think at the same time, it’s called multitasking.”

“Right.” Anastasia laughs. Once she reaches the bottom of the bleachers she turns to face Caitlin, who was still coming down. She blocks her from exiting the last step, offering her a smile. “No matter what happens out there, I want you to remember that you’re a great player.”

“What is this, reverse psychology?” Caitlin laughs, attempting to get around Anastasia.

Anastasia steps infront of her again, keeping her position. “No, it’s good sportsmanship, ever heard of it?”

“Move.” Caitlin demands.

“Good luck out there.” Anastasia says, offering Caitlin a hand. Caitlin looks down at it before pushing past her, continuing onto the court. “Hey!” Anastasia shouts up to Paige who looks down. “This is for you.”

‘THE ART OF WINNING’ MASTERLIST

[winchesterwild78]

The Tutor part 4

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader

Warnings: mention of cheating, mention of phone sex, separation, fluff

A/N: Just a quick idea that popped in my head. A short series, maybe 2 or 3 chapters. I don’t know yet. No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction. Jensen has children in this, but I do not use their real names. 

Reader is a teacher and is asked to tutor Jensen’s child. Things develop between Jensen and the reader. I do not condone cheating, again, this is a work of fiction.

This chapter got a little long. Sorry not sorry. 😀 Please overlook any errors. I wrote this fast and edited it fast. 

Minors DNI 18+

Coming out of your room you were still smiling from the video call and the post Jensen made. You were completely in love with him. There was a glaring problem, you both were married to other people. You made the move to leave your husband, but he was still living with his wife. The fear of him never leaving her and you always being ‘the other woman’ was real and kept creeping into your mind. 

The next few days went pretty fast. Jensen called and video chatted with the kids every chance he could, and you would get a special, private video call after the kids were in bed. 

The night before he was due to fly in you were laying on your bed, earbuds in and having video phone sex with him. You were so into what was going on on your screen, you didn’t hear the front door. Jensen was close to his release, and you were right behind him when you heard a knock at your door. 

Your eyes shot open, grabbing your sheet, “Hello? Who’s there?” Jensen stopped and looked at the screen, sweat on his brow, panting. “Baby? What’s wrong?” “Someone’s knocking at my door.” 

“Hey, Y/N. I just wanted to let you know I’m home.” You swallowed hard, “Oh okay, Welcome home Mrs. Ackles.” You looked at the screen as you said it. Jensen’s eyes went wide. “Why is she home?” He questioned. “I’m not sure.” “Well, damn she just killed the mood, I’m sorry sweetheart.” “It’s okay baby. Once you get home we will have to continue this. When does your flight get in?” “I arrive back at 10am. God I can’t wait to see you.” “Me either baby. You better get some sleep. I love you.” “I love you too, Y/N. Sleep well and tomorrow I’ll be in your arms again.”

You smiled and nodded, “I can’t wait.” After you two hung up, you got dressed and laid down, thinking about Jensen and how the relationship would work when he got home. Especially with his wife back. You decided that would be a problem better solved when he got home. Besides, she has a lover, why can’t he? 

The next morning the house was buzzing with excitement. Jensen was due home in a few hours and the kids were so excited. His wife was less than excited. You heard her on the phone talking about his Instagram post, “No, it wasn’t about me honey. I promise. I don’t know who it was about, but it wasn’t about me. Remember I love you.” 

You scoffed as you walked away. You couldn’t understand how she could throw away such a good thing with Jensen. Sure he isn’t perfect, but there was nothing that could tear you away from him. 

She emerged from the office and greeted you with a big, fake smile. “Good morning, Y/N. How are you today? I surely hope I didn’t interrupt anything last night.” She smirked at you. She did hear you. Did you say Jensen’s name? “Oh, Good morning, no you didn’t, nothing that couldn’t be continued later.” 

She nodded, “So, I was hoping I could talk to you about something.” “Yeah sure, what’s up?” “Well, I saw a post on Jensen’s Instagram that took me by surprise. He mentioned finding the love of his life. As you know, he and I are not on the best of terms, so I know the post isn’t about me. Have you noticed any women around here when you’ve been here?” “No I haven’t, well just you and I, and the nanny.” “Hmm, maybe it’s someone he works with. I refuse to let him make me out to be a fool.” “I’m sure that’s not what he’s doing, maybe the post was about you. Why else would he profess his love publicly?” 

“Yeah, but it’s not about me. We haven’t had sex or even kissed in months. We don’t love each other anymore.” 

Of course you knew all this, but you had to play dumb. “Mrs. Ackles, I’m so sorry. That has to be hard.” “I appreciate it, but it’s not that hard anymore. I’m happy with Josh and I want to build a life with him.” 

Before you could say anything else you heard the front door open and saw Jensen walk in. Your heart leaped in your chest. The kids ran to him and threw their arms around him, “Daddy! You’re home!” “Hey my babies. I missed you three so much, were you good for Ms Y/N?” They smiled and shook their heads yes. 

Jensen saw you and his wife standing in the kitchen. He acknowledged her and you. “Welcome home, Jensen. The kids missed you so much.” “Thank you, Y/N, and thank you again for stepping in and watching them. I appreciate it.” You nodded.

“Y/N, would you please excuse Jensen and I, we have some things to discuss.” “Oh, yeah sure. Welcome home, again.”

With that you left to head to the guest house. You decided to start unpacking and get things cleaned and organized. About twenty minutes later there was a knock on your door. “Come in” you called. You looked up and saw Jensen standing there with a smile on his face. “Come here sweetheart.” He crossed the room and pulled you into a tight hug. “God I missed you.” He kissed the top of your head. You leaned back and he crashed his lips to yours. Moaning into each other’s mouths he led you backwards towards the bed. 

As you fell backwards you giggled. “I missed your laugh, sweetheart.” Jensen kissed your lips, “Now, where did we leave off last night?” “I don’t know about you, but I was so close, Jens.” “Me too, darlin’.” 

You and Jensen quickly shed your clothes. Laying under Jensen and feeling his hands on your body was beyond euphoric. He knew how to touch you and make you feel so completely alive. 

About 45 minutes and 3 orgasms later, you and Jensen were laying on your bed, breathing heavily and trying to cool down. Sweat covered the two of you. Jensen held you in his arms as you laid on his chest. “Baby, how is this going to work with your wife at home?” 

“I told her tonight I wanted a divorce.” You sat up and gasped, “What?” “Yeah, I told her I had found someone I wanted to build a life with, someone I was completely in love with, and I wanted a divorce. I don’t care what it does to my image. I want to be with you, completely and without having to sneak around. You deserve so much better than that.” 

Your breath hitched in your throat. No one had ever put you first. Jensen choosing you over his marriage and his image was a true testament of his love and commitment to you. 

“Jens, I don’t know what to say. I don’t want you to lose your job.” Jensen cupped your face, “Sweetheart, I’m not going to lose my job, I promise.” “What did she say when you told her?” “She said she was fine with going through with it. That she and Josh were in love and she wanted to marry him. I told her I wished her the best. She’s moving in with Josh today, and the kids are staying with me.” 

You smiled and kissed his lips, “I love you, Jensen.” He leaned in more, laying you back on the bed, “I love you too, sweetheart.”

“I better get dressed and back inside. We are telling the kids tonight before she leaves. It’s going to suck.” You touched his arm, “I know it is. Should I stay here or do you want me there, to help the kids?” “I’d love for you to be there, but I think it’s best if you stay here. Once she’s gone you can come in and we will help the kids together.”

You nodded, “Okay, Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it. My priority is you and the kids.” “I love you for that too. I’m sure if you were in there it would cause questions to come up that I’m not ready to answer.” As he started to climb out of the bed he stopped and looked at you, “Thank you for making me believe in love again. When she’s gone I want you to come into the house.” You nodded and he got up to get dressed. 

After he was gone you laid in the bed thinking about everything that has happened in your life since you met Jensen. You couldn’t believe how fast your life had changed. When you married Jeff you thought you were marrying the love of your life, but you were wrong. Being with Jensen was easy, and you felt things with him you hadn’t felt with anyone, even Jeff. You loved Jensen deeply, and you cared and loved his kids too. He and the kids were home. 

A few hours later you saw his wife leave with a suitcase. You sent Jensen a text.

You: Hey, let me know when you want me to come inside. I don’t want to intrude.

Jensen: You can come in. The kids took it better than I thought they would. There were some tears, but I think they knew it was coming. 

You: I’m glad it went better than you thought it would, I hate they felt it was coming, though. 

Jensen: Me too, now get your cute butt in here. 😙

You smiled and you put your phone away. Walking inside the house you weren’t sure what to expect. Jensen and the kids were sitting on the floor in the living room playing. You smiled when you saw the four of them. Jensen’s green eyes looked up at you with so much love. You bit your lip as you looked at him, and you blushed. 

“Ms. Y/N, mommy left again, she’s moving in with Uncle Josh. We’re going to stay here with daddy and you.” Jensen Jr said to you. “I heard, sweetie, and how does that make you feel?” You asked him. “I guess okay. I love mommy, but I know I get to see her still.” “Yes you do buddy, whenever you want,” Jensen said. 

You looked over at the girls, taking a seat on the floor, you asked them, “How are you two doing?” Jessica looked at you and you snuggled to your side, “I’m okay. I get to live with daddy and you. I love you Ms. Y/N.” You pulled her in your arms, “I love you too sweetheart, I love all of you very much.” Her big green eyes were wide, “Even daddy?” You smiled and nodded, “Yes, even your daddy.” 

Annie sat quietly. You looked at her and then at Jensen. You saw the concern etched in his face. “Annie, sweetie, are you okay?” Jensen asked. Annie looked up and tears were in her eyes. Jensen’s heart broke. She looked over at you and back at Jensen, you noticed her lower lip quivering. 

“Annie, it’s okay, baby. We’re here for you. Talk to us, so we can help you.” Jensen pleaded. The words were caught in her throat. Jensen scooped up his little girl and held her in his arms, tightly. You ushered the other two to their playroom, giving Annie and Jensen some privacy. 

You grabbed the door handle, about to walk outside, and Annie spoke up, “Ms. Y/N, please don’t go too.” You froze in place, turned around and said, “Sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere. I was just going outside so you and daddy could talk.” 

“I don’t want you to leave.” You walked over to her and Jensen and sat down, “Okay, sweetie, I’ll stay.” 

She gave you a slight smile. What she said next completely broke your’s and Jensen’s hearts. “Daddy, why doesn’t mommy love us anymore?” Jensen sat speechless for a minute, “Oh sweetie, mommy does love you and your brother and sister. Mommy and Daddy just don’t love each other enough anymore to stay married. That’s not going to change how either of us feel about you three. I promise you that.” 

She nodded and left the room. Jensen sat on the couch and let out a long sigh. “I guess I need to start telling family and friends, oh and my manager. This is going to go over so well,” Jensen said sarcastically. 

You rubbed his shoulder and took his hand, “Hey, I’m here for you, no matter what. I love you, remember?” He smiled, “Yeah, I remember, thank you baby.” He placed a soft kiss on your lips. 

Jensen stood and walked towards his office. He stopped and looked over at you and smiled. You gave him a soft smile back and nodded. He walked into his office and closed the door. 

Taking a deep breath you started to busy yourself around the house. Cleaning the kitchen and thinking about the future with Jensen and his kids. You knew you were in love with Jensen, and he was in love with you. Nothing else going on mattered, because you knew as long as the two of you had each other you could tackle the world. 

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@jassackles  @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa 

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@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27 

@manicjk @stoneyggirl2 

@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi 

@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87

@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld

@nancymcl @baby19sthings

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@lmg14

[brightstar2000]

"Your past doesn't define you"

I think some people need to take this to heart. This applies to, not just Moon, but Nexus too.

Yes, Moon did horrible things in the past, i will not try to sugarcoat or gloss over that, but he is and has been making a genuine effort to be better than he used to be, and he is better than he used to be. He even acknowledged how he dislikes being so short tempered when Goliath made that poke at Sun. He's aware of what he's done and wants to improve.

Nexus, on the other hand is the opposite. He started good, that is undeniable and he kept it up for a while until he began to deteriorate after Solar died. He's made it very clear now that he intends to harm Sun's family. If infecting Moon a little bit with the negative star power first didn't make that clear, him nearly killing him the other day made it abundantly clear. He refused Solar's help as well. He doesn't want to change back to how he used to be, but people continue to defend him and hate on Moon.

I'm not saying to ignore the abuse that Moon put Sun through, but at least look at him now, making an actual effort to change and be better. Look, if an ex abuser is making real genuine efforts to become better as a person, and even acknowledges their slip ups when they happen and takes the steps to prevent them from happening again, i see that as a redeemable person. Moon is redeemable in this sense and i am willing to give him a chance.

Nexus? I do not see any redeemable qualities about him anymore except the very vague hope that he may still come back. That New Moon is still possibly in there somewhere. Yet with each encounter so far, that small hope i have dies more and more and is genuinely almost entirely gone by this point. For me, as of right now, where the lore stands, Nexus is irredeemable. His past does not define him. Same with Moon. The differences between them are that they both are going in opposite directions from eachother. Moon getting better, Nexus getting worse.

Moon had a kill code that influenced his actions. It is clear that he did not want to do the things he did himself. He expresses extreme guilt and regret, going so far as to say he would trade his life so the victims he killed could live again.

Nexus did not have a kill code. He still doesn't. He chose to start doing all of the things he is doing himself. I know Dark Sun helped it along, but i seriously doubt Dark Sun pitched the idea for Nexus to start injecting himself with negative star power. And i said it so many times before, but grief did not give Nexus the right to do what he did to his ex family. Not even when he had his psychosis snap. His ex family still are not to blame for that. They also had their own grief to get through at the time. Nexus didn't let them try to help him. Nexus had no outside influence before Dark Sun got him to make him become like he was when he nearly killed Earth. It was all himself and that is why i have such a hard time believing he is still good inside.

[afreakingdork]

Soft Spot - Chapter 8

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Someone's excited and someone isn't in this week's chapter art by @garbagemilkshake

Rated: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Romance, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Married Life, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Villain Donatello (TMNT), Love, POV Second Person, Babies, Pregnancy, AFAB reader, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Fertility Issues, Pregnant Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Reader-Insert, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Cum Eating, Turtle Noises (TMNT), I have a Biology Degree and I’m Using it, Menstruation, There WILL NOT be any Miscarriages

Synopsis: First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes the next step about as smooth as the others arrived. The baby-oriented sequel to Weak Spot.

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Trigger warning: There is a mention of miscarriage. Reminder that there will be no miscarriages in this story. I apologize to anyone who has suffered that grief and please know that while times may be tough in this story, they will get better.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. leapt into the air. With a swivel of his torso that would have been impossible with mammalian spinal columns, he rotated all the way around to snatch a Frisbee. He then landed with the brunt of his weight denting dead grasses. Doing the same spine breaking spin, he whipped the plastic disc away from him. It shot with lethal accuracy at your mate who caught it without wasting a bit of movement.

The Frisbee was launched again and the game continued on as it had.

It had been going on for some time now.

It seemed like everything had.

This family picnic.

The last few weeks.

The persistent chill in the air.

It was why you were able to be out like this in the first place. For weeks, clouds took root in the sky. They darkened the doors of NYC and filtered out vibrancy. What was left was the usual humdrum of the city’s occupants and the only other entity that marked winter: cold.

Those who braved the elements bundled up, but there was little to see. All color was sucked from the concrete and buildings leaving everything a similar grey casing as the cumulus constellations above. Even a bright colored coat amongst the sea of neutrals seemed a pale comparison to how it appeared on a store rack.

It sent hoards of people indoors where golden tones were meant to encourage circadian rhythm. Bars were packed until condensation clung to the windows and hid them away from the chill. Restaurants buzzed with patrons looking for bowls of comfort and rooftop parties were dotted with the glowing embers of heat lamps instead of fairy lights.

They glowed like fireflies overtop the city, you imagined.

In reality, you hadn’t seen them.

You hadn’t seen much as of late.

Your husband had become a husk.

You had played out the rest of your Valentine’s trip in quiet contemplation. Waking for the multi-course breakfast should have been a treat and to an extent it was. It helped mop up the bitter feelings of the night before and there was love baked into every bite. The couple and other bed and breakfast tenants made for lively conversation and you heard life stories.

Ones that included family.

Ones that turned Donnie further inward.

He had yet to emerge in the time that followed.

When S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. phoned about the parks being empty, Donnie hadn’t challenged him. He agreed to an outing regardless of the conditions. Your son then immediately texted you with complaints of Donnie’s pliancy since he’d had a whole presentation planned to convince him. You offered to listen, but you certainly weren’t going to turn down the offer. In the end, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. gave up and you instead ironed out the necessary details that brought you now to the park.

Only a few joggers happened by at an irregular pace and they were so bundled up they didn’t blink an eye at the giant purple humanoid automaton.

To a side glance, S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. was nothing more than a colorfully dressed being braving the cold in layers. In reality, your son generated his own warmth and the cold meant his processors were firing at some kind of top optimization. He could finally walk around in his humanoid form without being gawked at and having the park to yourselves was an added bonus. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. was living out his dreams of playing catch with his dad, even if said man was less part of the game and currently acting like an automated machine that fired discs.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. nabbed the plastic out of the air in another momentous leap before he ran over to you. “See that one? Did I get higher that time?”

“I think so…” You pondered to play up his excitement.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s legs folded up so he could more closely match your height. “Well!?”

You rolled your eyes over the darkened sky before landing on him. “I bet you can do better.”

“I can!!” He revved to his feet and launched the Frisbee at Donnie. “Throw it high!!”

Your husband complained and the disc then cleared S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s leap by several leagues. “Shoot!”

It disappeared into some dead brush.

Heavy metal footsteps clabbered after it. “I got it!”

You watched the lights on S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s chassis disappear and turned back to Donnie. Your husband’s eyes were both fixed and unfocused after where his son had gone. It had been weeks since you’d seen life shine off his gaze. He fully moved through motions and had never verbally accepted that you were no longer trying. Instead, he let his actions speak louder as you’d gone through your next ovulation cycle without having sex at all.

General intimacy might also have been absent had you not pushed for it. Your mate didn’t deter you, but was a lackluster partner in that regard. You often curled up against him on the couch for the sake of it and it was only after you continued to root stubbornly did he relent with an arm around you. You’d settle as thanks for it, but he no longer churred.

You hadn’t heard the sound since that accursed morning.

There was no helping it.

As Donnie had hypothesized, you became his strength where he lost will. He could easily be led, but he lost the desire to plan. This was his version of burnt out, you thought, as you took over making meal plans and keeping track of household stock. You often left him notes of what needed to be done that day and he always had them complete by the time you got home. It was a little more on your mental load, but his despondency didn’t make the extra work a chore. You wanted to care for him. The only exhaustion you had faced in the last few weeks was the one that struck you every time you opened your calendar. 

The ovulation schedule was still overlaid amongst your daily tasks.

Since Donnie was no longer updating it live, it now ran on the last approximate data. You saw the time when your body supposedly released an egg, but if Donnie’s nose picked up on it, he didn’t betray that information. He was a shell that currently did what he was told, ate what was put in front of him, drank until a glass was empty, and slept when he laid down. You cared for him without a single question as you imagined this was all very new for him.

He had never spoken of burnout before though you imagined that was probably the stemming factor for his big 30s change. Years of scraping by took its toll on him and had manifested in him giving up the will to fight. He carried on for the sake of it after that and history seemed to align with what was happening now. It made you wonder how or if Donnie had ever learned to process grief. 

It didn’t seem like it since his reaction to such was to shut down. While he rarely treated himself like a computer these days, it seemed like an instinct to fall back on those old habits. The moment the chip in his brain couldn’t process one thing, the system kicked in with a failsafe. It robbed him of all other emotions during the reboot. He was in safety mode which glided by on the barest instruction. Sex, to that extent, was out of the question for a multitude of reasons, but the largest reason had to be it was inadvertently the cause of his crash. Doing it again led to that ultimate are you or are you not pregnant scenario that had caused his malfunction in the first place. Until he could handle that exact computation, you would be in stand by with your pocket warmers close, not that you were troubled by the actual cold.

It had been S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. who created the electric blanket you were currently perched on. He was becoming acutely aware that his parents’ flesh bodies were negatively impacted by the cold. You weren’t exactly sure, but you had a feeling he had downloaded data on babies and it had scared him to find out how fragile they were. That was presumably connected to the dangers of motherhood which was why it made sense when your son demanded to take you out shopping for a downier winter coat. You’d picked him out a cute beanie for his worries which he’d clipped onto his head. It flopped around as he jumped which was exactly what it did when he burst from the bushes. “Found it!”

“Where was it?!” You called out to him.

“Tree!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. threw his arms out to mimic branches. “I didn’t cut it down!”

“That’s my boy!” You cheered him on.

He wriggled happily before coming over. “Soup time? I’ve been keeping it toasty!”

“Sure.” You moved to give him room on the blanket if he wanted it and looked toward Donnie. “Come back in!”

Your husband didn’t jostle and walked forward as if a command prompt had been entered.

You pulled up a secondary blanket that was tucked around your legs.

Donnie knelt down on a far edge of the ground cover and S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s chest compartment opened up.

Right next to his facsimile of a heart was a large thermos which he extracted and set down. “Don’t touch it yet. Outside temperature reads 93°C.” 

“That’s not toasty; that’s boiling.” You chastised him.

“Nah, it’s totally food safety holding temp!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. scoffed.

“When’d you get your license?”

“I got a part time job!”

“And you didn’t tell me!?” You pinched up the fabric on Donnie’s pants to tug him.

Your mate shuffled only an inch closer.

“I don’t tell you everything, mom.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. took a bitter tone, but his digital eyes wrinkled at the improv.

“My baby, I remember when you were just a microchip…” You feigned sobbing and pulled a seam on Donnie’s pants harder.

He finally came close enough that you could toss some of the blanket over his lap.

There was still a modest distance between you.

“So embarrassing!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. whined.

“Bring someone home so I can show them your baby pictures.” You grinned and grabbed the handle of a soft-sided cooler.

From inside you produced a nice crusty bread you had gotten that morning with S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. as a pre-game outing.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. tugged the cooler to him to get bowls ready and dolled out steaming cups of soup.

“Mom…?” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. watched on as you relished tearing into the loaf.

He sounded nervous so you addressed him seriously. “Yes?”

“I… don’t have a job.” His eyes were pricked with pixel tears.

“I know, dear.” You patted his hand.

“And I’m ace!” He burst into a phony sob.

“But your dating profile!” You feigned a gasp.

“I just love a free meal and ice breakers!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. supposed agony had him falling over onto you.

He was metering his weight and you wrapped an arm around him. “We’ll figure this out. It’ll be okay.”

“Yeah?” He looked up at you and his display blinked away tears.

“Of course. I’m always here for you.”

“And… scene!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. shot upright and you were barely able to get out of the way.

You tittered along with him as he passed you a spoon.

You took it and gave it to Donnie along with a bowl and some bread.

He stared down at the mixture before ladling some up and eating it since it was there.

You gave him a forlorn look before S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. passed you some soup of your own.

“Which parts were true?” You took a knowing bite.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. clammed up and picked up some bread for the sake of it.

“Shelly.” You didn’t need to press heat to know your son would crumble.

“The dating profiles and ace part.” He tore a bit of the bread flesh out and worked it between his metal digits into little tight balls.

“You’re… dating!? Like actually?!” You perked up before you got a bite in your mouth.

“Yeah…” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. gave way to despondent embarrassment and balled up more bread.

“I feel like I want to congratulate you, but you’re acting weird…”

“I kinda sorta… Uh… keep ghosting them…?”

“Oh…” You finally took a bite and found the temperature warmed your throat pleasantly.

“Yeah… I love the first date. Ugh, I could do it a million times over! The talk! The first look where they get that feeling! Each person is totally new and figuring out how to make them laugh that first time! Unf!! That’s what I bet it feels like when you take a good bite of food! Has to be!”

“Sounds like it, but…”

“I know…” He ground out and wilted. “Some of them get real mean when I turn them down after. There’s like expectations. That stuff sucks. Can’t we just hit it off and end it there?”

“Not really how it works… It sounds like these people are looking for a real connection. How much are you telling them beforehand?”

“Mostly the synthetic body stuff as a test. If they can deal with that then it’s all picking a place.”

“I meant about you being ace or that you don’t want anything long term.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. was getting close to hollowing out his slice of bread.

“You’re not.” You ventured a guess.

“I’m not.” He agreed with a pout written in his body language instead of on his display.

“You’re feeling guilty about it.”

“The last guy got so sad…” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. set the empty crust aside and started building up his bread pellets into a pyramid.

“It hurts. It sucks to think you met someone only for them to just want to stop after one date. Can’t you set the apps so it’s not romantic?”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. knocked over his growing tower.

You waited.

“You can do that?!” Your son’s eyes shot to yours.

“Depends on the app, I think.”

“Show me your profile!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. made an immediate grab for the pocket of your jacket that had your phone.

“Hey! Just because you can hear where it is, doesn’t mean you get to take it before I say yes!”

“Kid rules!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. protested and snagged the flap on your jacket anyway.

You were unable to swat your son away as he got your phone and plugged it into a port in his hand.

“Kids learn certain boundaries.” You grouched and gave up to eat.

“Nah, kids break the rulez. That’s with a ‘z’ by the way.” His eyes blinked at the display. “There’s nothing here!”

“It’s almost like I’ve been in a committed marriage for years!” You dunked your bread into the soup and watched it sop the liquid up.

“But you said you could make friends on it.”

“I have friends.” You chuckled.

“More friends.”

“I’m pretty good with the friends I’ve got.”

“So you just stop!?” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. looked at you like the odd one.

“I’m not against it.” You reached out to take your phone back.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s eyes rolled over into binary.

“What are you doing?” You turned wary.

“Found it!” In a blink, he projected a display of a dating profile you had made in your 20s.

You screeched straight through setting your soup safely aside and waved through the pixels to destroy it. “What is that?! Where did you find that?!?”

“Nothing on the internet dies!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. cackled pure malevolence to the cloudy sky.

“Is that active?!” You hissed and started grabbing at S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s form in an attempt to stop the display.

“Nah! It’s an archived page!” He giggled.

“Who archives that!?” You asked rhetorically before switching gears. “Turn it off now, mister.”

He laughed louder and the image dissipated.

You sank back into the blanket with a scowl.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. held out for a few seconds fiddling with his bread again.

“Want advice?” You sighed.

“Yes please.”

“Apologize to whoever will listen. Be honest about how much you feel comfortable with sharing. It’ll help. People can usually sense when someone isn’t honest.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. nodded.

“And ask that last guy to be your friend. He might be up for that. He might not be. It’ll all depend. Just stay safe.”

“Are you warning me about stranger danger?” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s eyes sparkled.

“Yes.”

“Will you give me a curfew?!” He cheered.

“You live on your own!”

“Aw!” He whined long. “Can I move back in and get one?”

“Back in?” You got hold of your bowl. “How long has it been since you were living with Don?”

“What was it, dad? Like nine-ish years?” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. turned to Donnie as if he hadn’t been silent all this time.

Donnie didn’t look or respond.

“Nine years, 142 days, and six hours.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. told you.

You gave him a sympatric look for trying to include Donnie.

He took it with an understanding bob. “It’s not like there’ll be room for me soon anyway.”

“Shelly…” You had always had a feeling that S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. was insecure about his place since you’d told him you were trying for a baby, but this was the first time he’d voiced it.

He waved his hands to dispel your worries. “Not like that! I want a little dude or dudette sibby!”

You tried to stifle a laugh.

“I do!”

“No, no.” You reached out to take one of his hands. “Not that! ‘Sibby?’”

“I’m gonna teach them all the cool slang!”

“Sure…” You teased.

“I am! I’m gonna be so cool! The coolest bro ever! I’ve been downloading books and everything!”

You softened. “You are.”

“Can I babysit?”

“Only lame big brothers don’t.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. gasped, horrified.

You squeezed his hand, not that he could feel it.

He did notice though and looked up to you. “How’s that going? The data hasn’t been updating like before…”

The way Donnie’s spoon scraped the bottom of his bowl was palpable.

You sent him a nervous look, but he didn’t return it.

When you got back to S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N., you saw your son had done the same.

“Clean.” Donnie spoke his second or third word of the day.

You slurped down the rest of your soup and held the last bit of bread in your mouth before passing him your bowl and utensils.

He got his own and walked off.

“I mean it’s obvious something happened.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. spoke as soon as Donnie trended out of eye line.

You chewed quietly before you spoke. “It really seemed like I was pregnant for a minute…”

“Did something bad…?” He searched you with growing anxiety. 

You shook your head. “No miscarriage, just a late period.”

“Could be late from stress.”

You bobbed your shoulders both agreeing with the possibility, but also not knowing for sure.

“What happened?”

“The emotional toll is… getting to us. It finally caught up with Donnie… I don’t know, Shelly. I asked if we could stop trying for now.”

 S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s red eyes widened.

“He’s not getting back on his birth control or anything, we’re just… I don’t know! We didn’t talk about it. I guess we won’t be obsessed with the schedule? I guess it just happens if it does…?”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. nodded.

“He’s hurting and I can’t help.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. tipped over until he could rest his head on your shoulder.

You set your cheek atop him. “I was hurting and he was there for me, but now it’s reversed and I think I’m doing everything I can, but maybe there’s something more.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. shook his head under the guise of snuggling closer.

His body radiated warmth and you leaned into it. “I know… Part of this is him coming to terms with what will or won’t happen.”

“I don’t really get it.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. spoke softly after you hadn’t for a while. “The urge to reproduce or whatever, but I get family. I love family. I want more to love.”

An arm snuck around to hug you.

You wriggled until you could sling one around him.

He rumbled with what you identified as a digital version of a churr. “When’d you get that?”

“Used a mixing board and messed with the levels a few weeks ago.”

“That’s fun.”

“Makes me feel closer to dad.”

“You’re just like your dad.” You pecked just above the point of S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s triangle.

“Thanks.” He rumbled louder.

You chuckled and rubbed his arm.

He adjusted a bit so he could lay in your lap.

You made sure he was whatever version of comfortable that worked for him before you followed lines in his body with your fingers.

He relaxed there for a while and his eyes closed. “You’ll make good parents.”

“I hope so.”

“You will. Dad’s come a long way. You’ve always been great. Fun to make yell.”

“Goodie.” The corner of your lip quirked sarcastically.

“It could take years.”

“I know…” You murmured.

For a long moment you both existed as parent and child.

“I think… we need to accept that. I think that despite hearing those low odds, we thought we could beat it like we have everything else. I think all this… shit, all these shitty thoughts, this misery, is a weird warning.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. watched you.

You looked down at him. “You can’t strong arm a baby. A baby takes time.” You rubbed the area where his cheek would be. “A baby takes understanding and you can’t force it. You can’t force any kid. Knowing every logical science fact in the universe isn’t going to convince a baby to stop crying. Kids are little nonsensical storms. Maybe all this was showing us that. The sooner we accept it, the better.”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. reached up and took your hand.

“Do you think Donnie will ever make up for how he treated you?”

“No.”

“But you still want him to?”

He thought for a long moment. “No.”

“Are you waiting for something…?”

“Nothing.”

“Why… did you stay? Why do you still bother? You became independent, why didn’t you leave?”

The line of S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s smile was so genuine you felt your very being soothed. “He’s my dad.”

You had to look away.

You looked up at the cloudy sky.

It sat the same way it had for weeks.

Unmoving.

You lost focus as you stared at the diffused light.

You didn’t see anything until a sharp zap of cold nipped your nose.

It almost felt wet, but from what you saw of the sky there was nothing there. 

You had to bring your head lower to see the tiny tufts of snow. 

You patted S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s chest to get his attention.

The flakes weren’t heavy enough to come straight down and instead flittered off with weak will to gravity.

“It’s snowing…” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. mooned.

He was soon up from your lap and catching your hand.

You were on your feet in moments and he threw his head back. You watched as his digital tongue appeared from the line on his beak and a snowflake hit him only for it to melt instantly. He cheered for it and you threw out your frame to do the same. The snow tasted sour on your tongue and you gagged a little. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. fussed about acid levels and you returned the concerns by wondering why he hadn’t warned you. He started to respond before he ran for the sake of it and you chased after.

He purposely kept within reach so you could catch him and when you did you caught his wrists. You then threw your weight to one side which spun him, but didn’t knock him over. You kept up momentum, soon running. S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. caught your hands right back and you were twirling until the flurries made for white blurs around you. Increased speed eventually broke you apart and you both fell onto crunching grass with giggles.

Donnie appeared over your head and you looked up at him with warmed cheeks. “It’s snowing, Don!”

He nodded and offered you a hand.

You let him help you up and tried not to look too owlishly as he initiated a secondary action by dusting grass clippings from you.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. was still on his back and watching with glowing eyes.

“Where’s the stuff you rinsed?”

Donnie looked over to the blanket.

You followed his sight and assumed by the open cooler that he had stuffed the tableware in there. “I might have eaten some acid snow.”

Your husband’s face didn’t betray much, but his chin dipped a little to check.

You stuck your tongue out for him to see.  

A snowflake immediately landed on it and you choked as you stumbled away. “Ack!!”

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. hooted with laughter.

“That was dumb!” You coughed and returned to find Donnie with the faintest light in his eyes.

Yours tripled in size.

He did nothing more and only continued to watch you.

You thought about double taking, but instead chewed your lip.

It took some heavy debate before you gave it all up to chance, “Did… you trick me?”

His gaze softened the smallest amount.

Your heart skipped a beat.

You meant to say something, but a flake then touched down on the tip of Donnie’s nose.

His eyes crossed to look at it and you reached up in a great show.

He lowered his head for you thinking you’d wipe it.

You were going to and fisted up your fingers so your thumb was free.

Just before you made contact, you switched grip so your forefinger was extended and used it to swipe down the melting droplet straight into your mate’s mouth.

The acidity hit his heightened taste buds and he reared away from you with the most movement he’d made in almost a month.

Both you and S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. couldn’t contain your giggles.

You both felt the moment Donnie recovered more than saw it.

“RUN! DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. shrieked before kicking up lawn to take off.

You pivoted as quickly as you could to run the other way.

You heard S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. scream out something about Donnie not being able to catch you both before there was an explosion of sod. You turned back, having run a good many feet away to find debris falling with the snow and Donnie hunched over the jangling arms of his son’s body in a crater. You peeped a single time as his head shot toward your direction. You made it exactly three more leg lengths before your husband dropped down in front of you.

You tried to keep from running into him, but your backpedal tripped you.

In a perfect tango maneuver, his hand caught your waist and you were tugged flush with him.

You hadn’t been this close of his violation in a while and butterfly wings beat against your insides as you looked up at him.

His gaze poured over you, still partially withheld, but opening up further by the second.

“You were listening to me and Shelly.” You told him.

“Yes.”  

“Did Shelly know?” You tilted your head.

“One can assume.”

“Did you two set me up?”

“No.” Donnie almost smiled, but caught himself.

“Shelly!” You called out. “Did you!?” 

“No!” You heard some earth shift and assumed he was pulling himself up. 

“You okay?” 

“Yup! Can we do that again?!” He cheered. 

“Later.” Donnie rolled his eyes and didn’t bother raising his pitch.

“You seem to like what I thought. About not rushing kids?”

Donnie evaluated you for a while before he looked off to the side. “Sound rationale.”

You reached up and placed your palm flat to his cheek.

He leaned into you. “I’ve been distant.”

“You needed to be. I always told you. It’s fine as long as you know I’m waiting.”

“Always…?” He turned up the end of his sentence with a raw tear to his chilled gaze.

“Always.” You agreed and tucked your fingers into his mask.

He gave a faint exhale and leaned down.

“You don’t have to force yourself to be okay. Even now.”

Again, his lips twitched like he might smile, but didn’t.

You thought that was enough.

He came closer until he was just shy of kissing you.

His reluctance to marry your lips meant something so you only watched him up close and let your hand slide down to his shoulder.

He liked the maneuver and felt comfortable enough for his eyes to shut as he took in your closeness.

You nosed into his airspace and commingled just like that.

The snow didn’t pick up and stayed little wayward flurries that would sometimes brush your skin.

Long after they dotted and melted against your coat did Donnie’s forehead brush yours and he gave the barest churr.

Your fingers spread out against his collar and you sighed contentedly.

“I’d like to continue our exercise in spontaneity.”

“Oh?” You breathed out and felt the warmth of it bounce back from his skin.

He nuzzled you amongst a slight nod.

“I’d like that. I like being close to you.”

“I’m glad you didn’t stay away.”

“You needed me.”

“I did.” He pulled so there was the pressure of your body against his. “Needed you close. Need you.”

“I’m here.”

This time when he nodded it was to lift his head.

“What’s left from your list? Double penetration?”

That finally got him to smile, but he squashed it.

You chewed on your grin.

“An entire mechanism for such, my present at the lab, and something new I’ve added as punishment.”

“Edging…” You hissed at your kryptonite.

Donnie only sent you a confirming look before he released you.

You took a few steps to give him space.

“Now?!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. chirped as he waited the same distance away.

“Run!” Donnie snarled once before taking off.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. squealed delight as he thumped away on bulky limbs. “Wait! This body sucks for this!”

“Too bad!” You heard a clunk of metal before you saw Donnie reach him. “I believe this is called: tag!”

“Tag…” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.’s mouth line warbled and Donnie turned to run. 

“Tag! Mom! It’s tag!”

“There’s no tag-backs so…” You saw Donnie signal you for which way to go and you ran that direction.

“Tag!!!” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. cheered before his plodding footsteps were sent in your direction.

(Check out behind the scenes for this fic and more on my Patreon. You can follow me there, here, or the tag #softspotfic for updates)

@tmntxthings is busy with life changing stuff and @thepinkpanther83 is sick as a dog! Much love to my precious betas in these trying times!

[marvelsmylife]

An unconventional love story

Pairing: Rhysand x Vanserra!Reader

Plot: when you fall pregnant with your husband's child. Rhysand, along with his brothers and your brothers must put their differences aside to help save your life

Masterlist

Request

You and Rhysand didn’t have a storybook love story. You were arranged to get married because your father wanted more power and all but sold you to Rhysand. You could tell this was just a business transaction for Rhysand so you didn’t bother trying to get to know him at first. Fortunately for you, the courtship lasted three years before your actual wedding. The courtship was painfully awkward at the beginning. 

While you and Rhys didn’t speak unless you were forced to, you ended up forming a close friendship with Mor. Yes, it was awkward at first, seeing as she had a bad relationship with your oldest brother. You reassured her you weren’t like him and slowly gained her trust. She, in turn, would encourage Rhysand to talk to you more and get to know you better.

Rhysand would take what his cousin said to heart and would try to get to know you better. Of course, you were walking on eggshells and overall awkward when you were in the same room together. He knew you initially didn’t want to marry him but was willing to do it for the sake of your father and your court. 

He asked you repeatedly if you were sure about getting married because he didn’t want to force you if you genuinely didn’t want to go through with the marriage. “Yes,” I would almost shout in response, “it’s just that this is all new to me. I’ve never even had my first kiss yet because of how controlling my father is. I feel like won’t be enough for you.”

Rhysand sighed at your explanation and ended up pulling you into an embrace, “You are enough for me. If I’m being honest, I was the one to suggest this marriage to your father and hid it as a business transaction because I got wind he was planning on marrying you off to one of Keir’s men.” 

Rhysand shuttered as he recalled that night vividly. Rhysand was walking through the halls of Hewn City when he overheard Keir and your father's voice. “Don’t worry, her maidenhood is still intact. She hasn’t even had her first kiss yet” your father said and Rhysand found himself clenching his fist. He couldn’t believe your father was willing to marry you off to someone as sleazy as one of Keir’s men. That’s when he walked in and offered to marry you in exchange for an alliance between your courts. Your father was all too eager to accept Rhysand’s offer.

Letting out a sigh I replied, “Honestly I’m not surprised. Although, I’m a little happier knowing I’m marrying you and not one of Keir’s men,” I scrunched up my nose, “you’re way more attractive than any of them.”

A smirk appeared on Rhysand’s face at your words, “You think I’m attractive?”

“We’ll yeah, have you seen yourself in the mirror?” you answered honestly “I’d much rather marry you than marry any of Keir’s men.”

Rhysand laughed softly at your comment and brushed a piece of hair away from your face, “You are something else y/n. I can’t wait to marry you.”

You felt your face growing hot at Rhysand’s words. “Can I ask for a favor?” You asked after a few minutes of silence. Rhysand nodded and you continued, “Could you kiss me? I don’t want to have my first kiss to happen in front of everyone at our wedding.”

Rhysand’s eyes softened at your request but complied. He cupped your face before leaning in and kissed you. It was short and sweet but you found yourself smiling by the end. “There. Now your first kiss won’t be in front of hundreds of fae” Rhysand smiled down at you.

“Thank you,” you smiled up at Rhysand, “and I promise I’ll be a perfect wife for you.”

“I don’t want you to be perfect,” Rhysand replied, “I just want you to be happy in our marriage. My parents didn’t have a happy marriage and although I’m technically marrying you without you having a say. I do want you to be happy in our marriage.”

You gave Rhysand a genuine smile that caused his heart to skip a beat. “I can already tell I’m going to be happy in our marriage,” you held onto each other for a few more minutes before finally pulling away and saying your goodbyes. Not realizing the next time you would see each would be at your wedding.

Your first time with Rhysand was surprisingly great for both of you. It was no secret that Rhysand wasn’t a virgin when you started courting, but you were. Your father wanted you to be pure for your future spouse so he would execute any males who would dare show interest in you. Your father was proud of himself as he announced it in front of everyone at the wedding reception.

While you wanted to crawl into a hole and die at your father’s words, so Rhysand reached over and held your hand to comfort you. “It’s going to be ok” Rhysand whispered to you to try and calm you down.

After the reception, you and Rhysand made your way to the private residence your father bought for this specific moment. You were in the bathroom getting ready to consummate your marriage. Once you were ready, you stepped out of the bathroom and spotted Rhys lying down on the extravagantly large bed. There was no doubt it was designed specifically to accommodate his large wings.

Your breath hitched as you noticed Rhysand checking you out. You felt the urge to cover yourself at his stare but opted not to because you knew he was now allowed to stare at you in that manner. “Um,” I paused “as you know, I haven’t been with anyone so I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” you whispered as you played with your fingers.

Rhysand’s eyes softened at your words and got up from the bed, before walking over to where you were standing. “It’s ok, little red. I’ll guide you through this,” Rhysand ran his finger against your cheek before settling it on your waist.

You start breathing heavily as Rhysand pulls the straps of your white, lace nightgown; making it drop on the floor. Your long red hair cascaded over your breasts, “Wow” Rhysand whispered as he saw your bare chest. Feeling self-conscious, you tried to cover your, but Rhysand stopped you. “Never hide yourself from me,” Rhysand whispered as he removed your hands before pushing your hair back so he could see your breasts “They’re beautiful.”

A low groan escaped from Rhysand’s lips as he ran his thumbs over your hardened nipples. Your heart started racing as Rhysand took one of your nipples into his mouth and began to suck on it. “Do you like that?” Rhysand asked as he held onto you possessively.

“Yes” I whimpered softly as you ran your hands through Rhysand’s raven-black hair, “I really like it.”

Rhysand groaned at your actions and decided to lift you by your thighs and carry you to the bed. His eyes were glued to you as he laid you down on the bed. “I’m going to make this a night you’ll never forget.”

You smiled as Rhysand took his time and worshipped your body. He spent a solid thirty minutes between your legs, getting you ready for his cock. He made sure he talked to you the entire time to make you feel comfortable. Once he knew you were prepared, Rhysand lined his cock against your entrance “Relax, ok?” You gave a small nod before he carefully slid into you slowly. “Fuck. You’re so deliciously tight,” Rhysand groaned as he tried to control himself so he didn’t slam in all at once. 

“It still hurts,” You shut your eyes as tight as you could as Rhysand’s cock stretched you out.

Rhysand heart hurt at your cry, “I know sweetie, but it’ll pass and you’ll feel good. Just like before with my tongue. You just have to relax your body.”

You tried what Rhysand said and relaxed while he continued to insert his cock fully inside you. Once he was, he remained still for several seconds as he allowed you to adjust to his size. He didn’t want to hurt you and only wanted to continue when you gave him the ok. After a few minutes, you were able to fully relax and whisper into his ear, “You can start moving.”

Rhysand looked you in your eyes to make sure you were ok before he slowly started to move inside you carefully. He could tell you were still uncomfortable so he started kissing your neck in an attempt to distract you. It worked because slowly your whimpers of discomfort turned into moans of pleasure. “You feel amazing y/n.”

“Rhys” you panted as you began to dig your nails into his back. Hearing his name slip out of your lips only encouraged Rhysand to pick up his pace while his hands roamed your body. “It feels so good,” you shut your eyes as you let yourself get consumed with pleasure.

Soft cries of pleasure and groans filled the room as you and Rhysand made love that night. By the end Rhysand had you lying on top of him while he whispered sweet nothings into your ears. “Thank you for being gentle with me. I’ve heard horror stories from some of my maids about how horrible some males get when they’re being intimate with a female.”

Rhysand’s eyes softened at your words and held you close. “I will never hurt you. You are my wife, my equal and I will show you nothing but respect during our marriage,” with that Rhysand placed a kiss on your forehead before both of you drifted off to sleep.

From that night forward yours and Rhysand’s relationship changed for the better. You were no longer awkward around each other. You often sought each other out and constantly had to be touching. He also had to explain to you that you had to put on a mean persona whenever you had to visit the Hewn City. He explained he created a mean persona so the people in Hewn City would fear him.

Fortunately for him, you mastered the mean persona while living with your father in the autumn court. You had to toughen up at a young age because most of your brothers would bully you for being the only female among them. The only brothers you genuinely got along with were Eris and Lucien. Eris because he didn’t see you as a threat and Lucien because you were his baby sister and felt more of an urge to protect than bully. 

You loved Lucien so much for being so kind to you growing up, that he was the first to find out you were pregnant.

It was a warm summer evening when he came over for his weekly visit. He immediately knew something was different about you but he couldn’t put his finger on it. It wasn’t until he was up close when could see your glowing face that he realized you were pregnant. “I’m so excited for you, baby sister. I know you will be an amazing mother,” Lucien exclaimed as Rhysand entered the room. Lucien then proceeds to hug Rhys and tell him he’s happy for him as well.

Unfortunately, the joyous news was short-lived when Madja informed Rhysand in private that the baby had wings. Rhysand silently cursed himself because he had a feeling that was going to happen. He had tried for months to try to convince you not to have kids. He disguised it as he saw them as a burden, but in reality, he wanted nothing more than to have a mini version of the two of you. You ultimately got your way and managed to convince Rhysand that you guys needed an heir for the nigh court.

Ever since that revelation, Rhysand would silently panic about how he was going to tell you that your baby would most likely kill you. He would think back to the old version him, the one who wouldn’t have cared for your well-being. He often wished he could punch that old version of him and tell him that you were the best thing to ever happen to him. Seeing as he’s come to love and cherish you, he couldn’t bring himself to think of a world where you’re not in it.

As weeks passed and was running out of options on how to save both your life, Rhysand finally goes to Eris and Lucien for help. They were both rightfully mad that Rhysand hid this from not only them but also you. “How could you keep this from our sister? Our sister might die because of you.” Eris scolded your husband as Azriel, Cassian, and Lucien winced.

“You don’t think I know that!” Rhysand barked back as he ran his hands over his face, “I tried, I tried hard to convince her not to have a child but she was very persistent.” Rhysand found himself breaking down as the realization that you might die hit him, “I-we can’t let that happen. That’s why I called you guys. I need your help finding a way to save my wife’s life.”

Both Eris and Lucien’s anger disappeared once they heard Rhysand’s pleas. “I’ll ask around the other courts. Hopefully one of them knows something that can help us,” Eris gave Rhysand a weak smile.

“I’ll ask around the mortal lands. See if they somehow know something,” Lucien added. He walked up to his brother-in-law and patted his shoulder, “We’re going to figure this out and save my sister, ok?” Rhysand nodded as all five males in the room began working together to save your life.

Months quickly passed by with little to no progress on how to help you. Time ran out one morning when your water finally broke while you were gardening outside. “Rhys ! ! !” you shouted at you clenched your stomach, “it’s time, the baby is coming.”

Rhysand appeared by your side in a matter of seconds and guided you to your bed before calling out to Madja. “It’s going to be ok, my darling y/n,” Rhysand kissed the top of your head as he helped you out of your clothes and into your nightgown.

Meanwhile, in the day court, Eris was thanking Helion for managing to find a tonic that would help you deliver the babe without harming both of you. “Thank you for your help. The autumn court is in your debt.” Eris informed Helion.

“Don’t worry about it. Y/n has become a good friend ever since she and Rhys got married,” Helion smiled before Eris left for the night court.

Fortunately for everyone, you were still in the early stages of your delivery when Eris arrived and rushed to your side. “Drink this,” Eris uncapped the tonic and gave it to you. You gave him a funny look before he angrily said. “Drink this.”

“Ok, you don’t have to be rude,” you took the tonic before handing the empty bottle back to Eris. “Why did you-oh” Your face morphed for a few seconds as you felt something change within your body.

Rhysand, Eris, Lucien, Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and Amren all watched carefully. Rhysand bent down and got ahold of your hand, “my love, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly, “I felt as if my body changed” You looked over at Madja and began to panic, “did something bad happen to my baby?”

Madja rushed over and examined you, “Mother above, I didn’t think this would be possible,” Madja whispered before looking up at you, “yes, it looks like the baby is ok. It’s just that your anatomy changed so you’ll be able to deliver the baby properly.” Madja looked over at Eris “I don’t know what you gave her, but you just saved her’s and the babe's life.”

Eris had a small smile on his face at Madja’s words as he watched from the side as you gave birth to your child. 

You smiled down at your baby boy, who happened to have his father’s skin complexion and violet eyes with your fiery red hair and your nose. “He’s perfect” you gushed as you held your son in your hands. You looked up and noticed everyone staring at you and the baby, “do you want to hold your son, Rhysand?”

Rhysand was more than happy to hold his son while Lucien bent down next to you and kept repeating how happy and proud he was of you. “You did good y/n. That is the most precious babe I’ve ever seen. He’s going to be so loved by us and the two courts his parents are from.”

“Thank you, Lucien. You and Eris,” you look over at Eris who was also knelt down beside you, “are the best brothers anyone can ask for.” 

Lucien gently kissed your hand before him and Eris backed up and Rhysand take their place. “Look at him. He’s going to be a heartbreaker when he grows up,” Rhysand bent down so he was close to you while holding our child.

“He better not. He’s going to respect females from a very young age,” you laughed as you placed your hand on top of Rhysand’s.

In that instant, both you and Rhysand felt the mating bond snap between the two of you. “Would you look at that?” Rhysand chuckled “It only took you giving birth to our son for the mating bond to snap into place for us.”

You let out a soft laugh as Rhysand handed you back the baby so you could nurse him. “I love you, Rhys.”

“I love you too, my darling y/n” Rhysand placed a kiss on your forehead and held your hand. Content that not only did he still have you in his life, but that your baby boy was here as well and he was healthy.

[peaches2217]

Untarnished

Chapter 4 (HUGE thank you to @bberetd for her feedback!!)

AO3 Link! | Previous Chapter | Beginning

~~~

For the third time since their reunion, Mario smiled at her, and she was certain her heart would burst. The pain etched into his features melted away as he met her gaze. It was as if everything was alright in his world now. And as he lifted a tremoring hand and mirrored her touch, his tattered glove meeting her cheek, Peach realized that everything was alright in her world too.

That was it. That was the final push she needed to overcome years of shyness, dancing around social etiquette and expectations and uncertain affections. She was going to pour her heart out to him, right here, right now, consequences be damned.

Once again, he didn’t give her any time.

He kissed her before she had the chance.

.

.

.

It didn’t register at first. All she could do was gape dumbly ahead, staring wide-eyed at the space between Mario’s eyebrows. Everything was so still. No breeze in the air, no breath flowing between them, nothing but the grass beneath their bodies and his hand trembling against her cheek.

His lips were warm, and cracked, and terribly dry. They trembled as well.

And then they were gone, and suddenly the two inches of space between them felt impossibly vast. Peach had never so desperately wished to be robbed of breath once more.

She took it upon herself to grant that wish. Mario made a startled noise as she pulled him back in, his hand retreating from her face.

At any other time, she might have backed off, considered the possibility that his kiss meant something entirely different than hers, that she was overstepping his every last boundary. Right now, she didn’t care. Mario had kissed her. She had almost lost him, but he’d lived and he’d carried them both to safety and he’d kissed her. 

Even if it didn’t mean what she wanted it to mean — perhaps he was just as overwhelmed with relief as she was, and perhaps he simply couldn’t think of a better way to convey it in the moment — it was proof that he was here, he was alive, and she was with him once more. It was proof that her weeks of dwindling hope and agonizing uncertainty hadn’t been in vain.

His facial hair prickled at her cheeks and her chin and her palms. It tickled.

Then the warmth and weight of torn leather returned to her cheek — and Mario returned her kiss in earnest.

This wasn’t like his first kiss, stagnant, awkward, timid. This kiss was forceful. Desperate. His hand slipped from her cheek to the nape of her neck, and he somehow pulled her even closer. His fingers gathered and clenched at the roots of her unwashed hair. Peach scarcely had time to gasp when he pulled away, and then he was pulling her back in, pressing, tugging, clinging to her for dear life.

If her hair being yanked and her lungs shriveling from lack of oxygen caused her pain, Peach took no notice. She never wanted to breathe again, so long as it meant he’d never stop. She never wanted him to let go.

Cicada song was quickly drowned out by the rush of blood in her ears as she matched his affections, aggressive but not painful, too much yet not nearly enough. Fireworks exploded behind her eyelids and within her stomach. The unpleasant copper tang on her tongue was nothing compared to the giddy, almost indecent joy coursing through her blood. His hair was gritty with soot, yet this did little to dissuade her from running frantic fingers through it.

In an interlude for air, her hand returned to his cheek — and it was wet.

All at once the bliss dissipated, and Peach pulled fully away, a painful but necessary action. Right. He was still hurt. His wounds would need tended to before they could continue.

But it wasn’t blood or serum that trickled down Mario’s face, discolored from soot and sweat and bright red burns. The look he fixed her with was unlike any she had ever seen from him: his eyes were wild, and each unsteady gasp for air jolted his body, and tears dripped from his cheeks and from the tip of his nose, a silent but unending flow.

Where she’d just felt alive with passion, Peach now felt frozen with shock. She had never once seen Mario cry.

It didn’t take long to realize, once she embraced him and buried her face into his neck, that she was crying, too. He had never seen her cry either, had he?

Quiet sobs wracked through her as she took it all in, the smell of blood and burnt skin and singed clothing, the warmth of another living being, him, all of him. And though she couldn’t hear much over the pathetic cries that spilled from her throat, she knew from the way he shuddered as he held her that he wept just as fervently.

~~~

“Something must be done post-haste. We cannot allow such misfortune to befall our Princess again.”

“Well, what would you suggest? Sacking all of the guards who stood on duty that night — which you agreed to as well, I’ll have you remember — has left us shorthanded. It will be at least a few more weeks until we have all the necessary resources.”

“Nonsense! We have everything we need! The old guards’ replacements already show great promise. I say we implement the improved layout blueprint and stick them right in. Problem solved!”

“Those replacements are still in training. Do you suggest leaving the safety of our Princess to a gaggle of rookies?”

“Well, unless the Princess is willing to reconsider our open borders policy, which, I might add, most likely contributed to this incident in the first place—”

“Do you mock Her Royal Highness? The great strides she’s taken to promote peace and unity with our allies?”

“What good have our allies done? Send us food when the harvest looks promising anyway, send us ranks when there’s no invading army threatening our people directly, but they certainly couldn’t pinpoint the location of the Princess, nor could they help organize efforts against that wretched Bowser! We must reflect inward if we wish to rebound!”

Hands clasped in her lap, Peach did her best to keep her spine straight and her expression neutral. For all the shouting of belligerent old Toads surrounding her, the past hour had still been fairly productive, if only because she was finally brought up to speed with the state of her kingdom… or, rather, the state of his.

The Koopa King was either dead or dying. His military was in shambles, his kingdom in complete panic. And while no one could say with certainty yet, current predictions, based on the observations of spies and similar informants, leaned in favor of the Darklands closing itself off until it was able to reestablish leadership.

Mario would be able to provide further insight, once he was well enough to recount his story. Peach could only pray he was permitted to do so at his own pace.

Without their king to lead them, Bowser’s troops were predictable. Petty at absolute worst, too cowardly to step foot outside of their borders at best. Peach felt perfectly comfortable with the notion of rookie guards standing at nighttime vigil. By the time any serious threat rose against her or her kingdom once more, they would be rookies no longer.

Of course, between the arguing of her Parliament and Toadsworth’s constant cries for order, Peach found very little room to voice these thoughts. Never mind that she had never asked for her original Nighttime Guard to be sacked in the first place. For these reasons, she couldn’t help but simmer with annoyance, tapping her clasped fingers against her knuckles beneath the grand conference table. What was the point in discussing her well-being if she wasn’t permitted to have a say in that very same matter?

(She could have, at any point, silenced the room with one swift gesture of her hand and a reminder that her word was the law by which they were all permitted to abide. She could have at any point taken control back into her own hands. Unfortunately, being thrust into the center of a noisy debate after three months in isolation rarely results in clear heads.)

“Oh, if only Master Mario had been on duty that night,” an older Toad with dark green spots on his cap called out. “He could have stopped this madness before it began!”

An abrupt chill rushed through Peach’s veins as a murmur of agreement swept across the room. She was quite used to random chills by now, yet this one felt strangely alien, so biting that it made her vision go fuzzy at the edges.

She’d had the same thought. It wasn’t the names of her guards or her retainers she’d cried as she was smothered by cold scales and ivory claws. She had screamed Mario’s name into the night, knowing full well that he couldn’t hear her, hoping in spite of herself that her voice would reach him, that he would reach her, that her nightmare would end just as quickly as it started.

As the days dwindled on and what ifs consumed her waking thoughts, she’d found herself imagining a thousand different ways he might have saved her, if only her voice had been stronger. If only she had asked him to stay.

“Master Mario! That’s another matter we must discuss: he will be receiving a knighthood once he’s well, I trust?”

“He should have been made a knight after his first rescue of the Princess! Perhaps Bowser would have thought twice about returning had Her Highness’ bodyguard been named a knight as well.”

“A mere title would not have stopped him!”

“Perhaps Master Mario can assist in training the Guard once he’s able?”

“Well, clearly we can’t change the past, so—”

“No no, it’s as I’ve said before, the Princess is never safer than when he’s—

“What of his feast? We must arrange a feast in his honor at—”

But could he have stopped Bowser had he been present? Her captor gloated, in excruciating detail, of the measures he’d taken to ensure her champion would fail: the traps he’d laid, the troops he’d armed, the secrecy with which he guarded her location to the outside world. Two years’ worth of painstaking preparation, all with one end goal: absorbing the Mushroom Kingdom into his fledgling empire, whether by reluctant political agreement in exchange for the Princess’ safety, or by killing her and taking the kingdom by force.

He had known her spies would track her down eventually. He had known that devoted little bodyguard of hers would come to her rescue. He’d spared no expense or resource ensuring the attempt would claim his life. He’d come so close to succeeding.

Had Mario been there that night, Bowser simply would have killed him on the spot. This was the only logical conclusion to make.

“M-my good fellows, perhaps a recess would be in everyone’s best interest. Twenty minutes, let’s say?”

He had been doomed from the start. There was no version of this event in which Mario would have escaped unharmed. From the moment he’d pledged service to Peach, she had doomed him to an uncertain future, a life of safety unassured. Wasn’t safety what she had promised him the day he and his brother stumbled into her court, displaced from their world of birth and hopelessly confused?

Was this not the fate of all whom she claimed to love? Who would she doom next?

“Princess.”

The sudden presence of pressure on her arm startled Peach, and she gasped as she instinctively jerked away from it. Danger. She was in danger. Her attacker, short and squat, with a thick white mustache and equally thick spectacles and black, beady eyes filled with so much worry—

“Toadsworth.” Peach exhaled heavily, and though she couldn’t quite remember what she’d been doing moments earlier, something sticky and unpleasant like guilt bubbled up in her throat. “Is— is everything alright?”

The creases around his eyes creased even deeper, and that guilt-like feeling within her thickened.

“I would ask the same of you,” he said, “but I believe I already know the answer.”

He spoke quietly, yet she could hear him with perfect clarity. Casting her gaze around the meeting hall, she found that its chairs were unoccupied, its politicians long gone.

“I had hoped your relative well-being would lend itself to a more agreeable climate,” he continued, huffing softly as he pushed his chair away from the table, an action Peach found herself miming. He hopped from his seat and wobbled briefly, quickly steadying himself against his cane. “But, clearly, what we all need is a break.”

Right. She’d heard him call for a recess earlier, hadn’t she? She didn’t remember anyone agreeing to it. Come to think of it, she couldn’t quite remember what her Parliament had been discussing in the first place… something about the guards? Something about her guard? 

Peach just barely fought the urge to slump over the back of her chair. She instead stamped her foot, which had fallen numb anyway. Right. Sores. Pain. Not a dream. If she wasn’t dreaming, why did reality still feel so dreamlike? It was as if her head had been knocked from her shoulders and hadn’t been screwed all the way back on, or perhaps had been replaced with a head that merely resembled her own.

“Princess.” Toadsworth’s tone mellowed as he closed their minimal distance, and as she shifted to face him, a wrinkled hand rested over hers, still clasped in her lap. “I believe you’ve suffered enough for one day. Have some lunch, then rest.”

Lunch. Rest. Those both sounded so good right about now. Still, what her heart yearned for, her mind rejected without a second thought.

“Suffering is part and parcel of the Crown, Toadsworth.” She gave him a good-humored smile, or at least tried to, and he returned one that looked much more convincing. “I’ll be alright.”

“You must focus on your health for the time being, Your Highness,” Toadsworth dissented. “How are you to lead our nation when you struggle with even menial tasks?”

Peach inhaled sharply. He always knew exactly where to strike. It wasn’t in malice, she knew, nor was he implying she lacked capability; he merely wanted her well, for everyone’s sake. She knew this. Still, her body surged with an unpleasant heat at his words. He was right, but he shouldn’t have been.

“I’d rather not leave you to weather all this arguing alone.”

Toadsworth chuckled, patting her hands. “I’ve managed to wrangle them for the better part of twelve weeks. One more day is a drop in the bucket.”

The unpleasant surge returned, and Peach sighed, staring down at their joined hands. It truly was a wonder he’d survived all this time. “The moment I receive clearance to take back over, you’re going on vacation. Just name the destination and I’ll see to it that all expenses are paid.”

“You’ll understand if I take you up on that.”

“Oh, rest assured, I’ll make it mandatory.”

Toadsworth chuckled at this, and somehow, Peach found the drive to giggle along with him.

He made small talk as he escorted her from the meeting hall so that the breaking politicians would pay them no mind, and she did her best to appear equally engaged. Once they turned the first corner, Toadsworth fell into comfortable silence at her side, tapping his cane against the floor with each step and humming quietly.

An odd sense of calm fell over Peach at the sight and sound. As a child, when she found herself overwhelmed by adult obligations, her steward would whisk her away under the pretense of “very important business,” and then he’d allow her to roam the winding halls of the castle or the sprawling expanses of the garden until she felt ready to return. He would engage her in conversation if she wished, whether she chose to vent her latest frustrations or make lighthearted small talk to keep her mind distracted.

Usually, however, she preferred to decompress in silence. Toadsworth would typically fill that silence with one of a handful of old drinking songs, humming merrily and tapping his cane in time to his tune. Even now, she recognized his chosen song as one she’d heard a thousand times before. He was older now, his spots darker, his whiskers whiter, but the placid contentment in his eyes remained the same.

Placidity. Peach’s birth father died when she was only three, forcing her to take the throne a mere ten years later. In spite of this, Toadsworth had done his best to give her moments of peace and calm through her otherwise hectic upbringing. At the very least, he did what he could to remind her that she wasn’t alone. For a brief moment, Peach was happy to feel like a child once more.

“You’re sure you’re alright on your own?” she asked once Toadsworth gave his approval of the cooks’ preparations (a hearty vegetable soup or stew, whose aroma already made Peach’s mouth water; she’d been cleared to begin limited solid intake, and she was immensely looking forward to it).

“Now now, don’t start that!” Toadsworth’s voice was stern, but the crinkles that peeked from behind his spectacles betrayed a lack of sincere ire. “You just worry about having a filling lunch. In the meantime, I’ll see if I can’t help everyone reach an agreement regarding your security.”

Peach could only shake her head as she turned to a familiar cupboard, scouring for and easily locating one of her favorite tea blends. “Good luck,” she called over her shoulder. “Stars know you’ll need it.”

“Well, we all agree on one thing at least: we need more guards like Master Mario.” As she prepped the nearest kettle she could find (and waved off a concerned kitchen attendant who insisted on performing the preparations for her), she heard Toadworth huff with some mix of frustration and amusement. “With the remarkable recovery he’s making, I may see about visiting him tonight. Perhaps I can pick his brain for ideas, or…”

Stars Above, not him, too. Magically-enhanced recovery or not, Mario needed rest just as much as she did; she knew for a fact her magic couldn’t heal mental or psychological wounds, and she could only imagine what sorts of battles he’d find himself fighting in the coming weeks.

It gave her comfort, however small, to remember just how resilient her dearest friend was. None of the coming battles he faced would be fought alone. He would be alright, and soon he would flourish once more, but to get there, he still needed his rest.

But as she turned from her tea preparations to chastise her steward for his haste, something ultimately held her tongue. Toadsworth was still, hunched over his cane, but his eyes shifted rapidly behind his lenses, movements so small and subtle she wouldn’t have caught them had she not seen this before. He was deep in thought.

“Toadsworth…?”

The call of his name produced no reaction. It took a repeat of that call, firmer but still gentle, for him to blink back into awareness, and when he looked up at her—

Enlightenment. His face shown with a cautious but ever-present enlightenment.

“I have a proposition.” He spoke quickly, his tone hard and clear with a newfound confidence. “Before I present it to the Parliament, however, I’d like to seek your permission.” Then he added, quietly, almost an afterthought: “And I believe you’ll wish to seek Master Mario’s permission in turn.”

~~~

Mario was awake.

And he wasn’t just awake, oh no. He was sitting up in his bed, smiling, laughing, conversing easily with his brother in their shared tongue. The hoarse rasp of an unused voice was gone; his tone was bouncy and light and clear, and though she could only translate bits of what he was saying, she knew he was in good spirits.

What she would have given to take in that sight forever. He was okay. He was okay.

Sadly, she was only able to gawk for a handful of moments before she was noticed. Dr. Toad greeted her cheerfully, inviting her past the doorway she loitering in (and she hadn’t taken note of his presence or where she was loitering, which made her feel quite dumb), and just as quickly, the lively conversation before her went silent.

His eyes. So bright and blue, unclouded by pain or confusion. Remnants of surprise quickly melted into a look she could only describe as reverence: a dusting of pink across his features, the smallest little smile. The short, patchy beard he’d sported the past few days was also gone, leaving only a familiar mustache. With a good portion of his face clean, she could see it with greater clarity now: he had lost weight. His cheeks, while not quite sunken in, certainly weren’t as plump as she remembered. He looked no less handsome for it.

He was still hooked to a heart monitor. It filled the silence by betraying Mario’s accelerating pulse, beep-beep-beep-beep-beep. Déjà vu.

She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and kiss him until the world fell to the wayside. She wanted so badly to lay in the grass with him and indulge years’ worth of words unspoken in a matter of minutes, just as she had that night. His taste had been metallic on her tongue, remnants of blood seeping through dried and cracked lips. What would he taste like now? 

She’d entertained the notion, more times than she cared to admit, that he tasted sweet and peppery like marinara, or light and fluffy and zesty like fresh maritozzi. More refreshing than a strawberry gelato, more filling than a bubbling manicotti, headier than the finest wines money could afford in his realm or her own— 

A loud, low rumble yanked her back into reality, and heat rushed to her cheeks as she clutched her belly, as if her hands alone could muffle the sound. Well. At least her appetite remained healthy.

Unfortunately, the sound didn’t go unnoticed. It pulled Mario’s attention away from her eyes, and quickly she was all too aware of the way he took her in, his smile fading rapidly.

She thought to cover herself. Maybe turn back and flee before he had enough time to process whatever he saw in her that upset him. But—

“Mamma mia,” he murmured, and he sounded genuinely offended, “when was the last time you ate, Princess? Has no one fed you?”

He didn’t even give her a chance to respond. Any response Peach might have formulated was quickly drowned out by the cacophony of an overworked heart monitor and agitated, half-understandable ranting.

“What are you still fussing over me for?” he asked in the general direction of the doctor, his hands flailing. “The Princess! That’s who you need to— she’s— stop wasting all your time on me, the Princess— ” He kept stumbling over his words, and if she wasn’t already familiar with his accent, she wouldn’t have known he was speaking in the common tongue at all. He was upset, if not incensed, and possibly on the verge of a heart attack… all out of worry for her.

This should have worried Peach in turn, and she should have stepped in to calm him down, but she was selfishly glad for his concern. Even standing a room apart from him, she felt safe, as if directly under his care once more.

“Hey’ey’ey,” Luigi interjected, “calmati, Mario! La Principessa mangia tutta la zuppa che può—”

“Zuppa?” And now Mario looked at his brother as though he’d been struck across the face. “ Ha bisogna di dolci! Torte! Biscotti! Pasticcini!”

“Il suo stomaco potrebbe esplodere! Non possiamo rischiare!”

“Allora, la lasciamo morire di fame?”

“Non sta morendo di fame! Stelle santo!”

As their bickering overlapped and their gesticulation grew increasingly dramatic, Dr. Toad patted Peach’s hand and smiled up at her, a tired but amused smile. “I think a lunch break is in everyone’s best interest, Your Highness.”

Peach assented with a single nod of her head, though she paid him no real mind. The bickering. Mario was only this argumentative if he was in good spirits; a sincerely run-down Mario would simply make a snide remark and then silently take it upon himself to fix whatever slight he perceived.

His voice and his body language matched Luigi’s as their petty war progressed, strong and unwavering. A familiar determination etched into his features like stone told her that he could keep at it for hours if he felt so inclined. She’d never been so happy to see the two argue in all her life.

As further testament to the notion that everything was on the up and up, the arguing continued until a kitchen attendant rolled a silver food cart into the room, and the aroma of roasted vegetables and hot broth compelled the twins to forget their squabble. As though there had never been any disagreement, they quickly shared only excitement for whatever lay beneath the serving trays. Peach shook her head fondly. How often had their mother witnessed the same scene in their youth? They must have been—

Her original mission forced its way back to the forefront of her thoughts. Toadsworth’s proposition. She needed to present Mario with Toadsworth’s proposition. But what sort of friend would she be if she didn’t let him eat first before making demands of him? She gulped and forced the fluttering dread in her throat as far down as she could possibly force it.

The doctor departed to take a lunch himself, leaving the three to their own devices. Luigi brought a second chair to Mario’s bedside and helped Peach into it before plucking three servings from the cart and passing them around, humming a tune she was certain she’d heard before. Everyone has a song in them today, so it seemed.

Through it all, Mario couldn’t quite take his eyes off of her. He was watching her, not maliciously or distrustfully, but with concern, gentle as a wool blanket draped over her shoulders. How terribly she’d missed those eyes on her. Had he always looked at her like this?

She paced herself as she ate, making sure to meet his eyes regularly as she did so; she didn’t want him to believe she was still starving. He’d seemed so distressed at the idea.

Luigi filled her in between spoonfuls of stew: the combination of her magic and modern medicine had all but restored Mario to his physical peak. A stroke of pure luck, he emphasized, the will of the Stars Themselves — the purse-lipped nod he gave Peach assured her that he held to their promise. Mario, they’d agreed last night, didn’t need to know the true cost of his recovery.

When she looked back to Mario, he was beaming up at her, face awash in pure awe. Pure reverence. Suddenly, Peach wasn’t sure if she could finish her lunch; she didn’t deserve his reverence. She didn’t deserve his anything, aside from maybe his scorn, yet still he admired her as a follower might admire a great leader, or as the devout might admire the divine.

Had he always looked at her like this? That adoring gaze which brought her so much comfort in the past days felt almost unbearable now. She tucked her arms as closely to her body as possible and focused a bit too hard on Luigi’s long-winded update.

There would likely be consequences to this accelerated state of healing, he continued: phantom pains, shortness of breath, bouts of weakness here and there, but nothing too worrying. He would be discharged tomorrow, so long as he could promise (or at least begrudgingly imply) that he wouldn’t exert himself for the next few weeks. “Which you will do, yeah?” Luigi quirked an eyebrow at his brother, who put on his best pout and shrugged, palms facing upward.

“Well how am I gonna know how I’m healing up if I don’t put myself to work? I’ll get bed sores if I sit still for too long!” He shifted where he sat, wincing in jest. “Already feel one comin’ on.”

“Stars, I’m gonna have to put a leash on you, aren’t I?”

The image that popped into Peach’s head was far more vivid than it had any right to be: Mario, with ears and a tail like a dog, sitting cross-legged and cross-armed on the floor in defiance, while his brother yanked repeatedly at a leash attached to a collar around his neck. She could easily picture the smug smirk he would sport, too.

The laugh this drew from Peach sounded more like a snort, and she nearly dropped what remained of her stew in her haste to cover such an embarrassing noise. But it was too late, and she knew that all too well; both brothers startled briefly, but within moments, all three were bent over in laughter, so wild and intense that her head began to throb from the pressure.

In that moment, she forgot. This moment felt like any other moment prior to her abduction, a simple gathering of friends over a good meal and good conversation. What hadn’t she taken for granted?

Their bowls now empty, Luigi gathered Peach’s before standing to take Mario’s. He hesitated, she noticed, resting his free hand on his brother’s shoulder, and though the cheer in their visages didn’t fade, something in the air felt a bit heavier.

“He smiled,” Luigi told her the night before, recounting the precious few minutes that Mario awoke in the midst of his healing. “He actually smiled. It’s…” Then he’d sniffed, dabbing the back of his hand to his already bloodshot eyes. “I can count on one hand — a-and I don’t even need the whole hand, Princess, maybe once or twice. He just… stopped smiling. It’s so good to see him happy again.”

And not even twenty minutes earlier, he’d dropped something even worse on her: “I kinda just accepted that he wasn’t coming back, y’know?”

The dread she’d forced down half an hour earlier came back up, like bile rising in her throat.

Toadsworth’s proposition. She still needed to present Mario with Toadsworth’s proposition.

“If I know Master Mario well enough, then I know he’ll be delighted,” Toadsworth had assured her, shutting down her protests before she could even voice them. “You see, in your absence, he’s been… well. Well, he wouldn’t hesitate. I’m certain of it.”

Peach was equally certain. That just made the proposition feel that much more unfair.

As Luigi stepped aside to relocate the food cart so it could be whisked away, Mario looked at her once again, grinning a bashful and achingly familiar grin. Why did he look at her like that? With such tenderness, and such affection, and such trust? Had her wish power wiped his memory, too? Did he not recall how much agony he’d endured for her sake?

How she almost destroyed all which he held dear, without even lifting a finger?

That upbeat, brotherly conversation she’d interrupted with her presence, the laughing and chatting and bright-eyed contentment, was very likely the first normal conversation the brothers held since the day she was taken. Whatever Mario went through in his efforts to bring her home, those efforts drove a wedge between him and his brother. Luigi hadn’t said as much, but Peach could read between the lines. She knew the look he’d fixed his sleeping twin with in the pauses between conversation, the quiet desperation of words unspoken, of wanting so badly to fix everything.

“Princess…?” Her hero’s gentle smile strained now, just the slightest bit, yet Peach couldn’t find the words of reassurance that he needed so badly. Just another of many ways in which she’d betrayed him.

In her absence, she’d placed unendurable weight upon the most sacred fraternal bond she’d ever borne witness to. In her absence, they’d mended whatever had been broken between them. And now here she was, prepared to pull them apart all over again, all for her own selfish need to feel safe.

Hadn’t she already stolen enough of their time away?

“Princess. Hey.”

Peach blinked.

A hand. Large, strong, familiar. Mario was leaning forward now, his hand extended to her, just out of reach. His lips were drawn up and half-hidden beneath his mustache, a smile that was no longer strained, but… sad?

He didn’t say anything else. He simply waited, patiently. As she continued to stare dumbly, his outstretched hand trembled in her peripheral, and his eyes crinkled under the creeping vestiges of fatigue, yet he refused to relax or rest.

He refused to rest because he knew Peach wanted to take it. He knew she trusted him. He knew she loved him. He knew her down to her very last nuance, her every last intention. He knew, and either because or in spite of this, he stayed at her side. If he had his way, he would remain beside her indefinitely. It was this very devotion that inspired Toadsworth’s proposition. Truly, she was destined to doom all whom she loved.

Hesitating, Peach finally accepted his invitation, resting her right hand within his; only then did he relax, still leaning forward but resting his arm, his fingers folding over hers. What was it about his touch that made her more confident? No matter how many times he took her hand, she always felt untouchable, or at least grounded.

She was only the messenger. This proposition was on Toadsworth’s behalf, not hers. He was running the idea by the Parliament this very moment, and likely being met with mass agreement. It was simply her responsibility to relay that idea to Mario… and to assure him, in no uncertain terms, that he’d already more than fulfilled his duties. That she expected nothing further of him. Surely he would know that as well.

“Mario.” His name sounded so weak on her voice, so uncertain, and already her words threatened to flee her grasp. She curled her fingers against his palm and glanced down at her lap. “I need to… T-Toadsworth has a proposition.” Her involuntary stutter made her heart skip a few beats, and she cleared her throat again to dissipate the cold, panicked feeling. “I’ve been asked to present it to you.”

“Oh?”

“Now, understand that you’re under no obligation to agree. I can’t overstate that. I want you to do whatever is best for your own well-being. This is only a… hypothetical suggestion.”

He squeezed her hand, his grasp firm yet gentle. “Spara, Principessa.”

Peach’s lips tweaked at one corner, and she blew a breath through her nose, a half-chuckle. “Lay it on me.” He always said it so playfully, coaxing her into sharing even the most unpleasant news with the promise that, whatever lay ahead, he could take it. That playful lilt was still present, but now his tone was so much softer.

She drew her left hand close to her chest and drew in a deep breath.

“The new Guard is still in training and further security measures are still being discussed,” she began. “Given the rate of your recovery, and the current air of uncertainty, Toadsworth feels it would be best if…” She exhaled. “If you were to remain in the castle. Until those measures are implemented.” As my guard, full-time. She couldn’t bring herself to say that part. There was no unselfish way to word it.

There was no altruistic way to demand she remain his top priority, after all he’d done.

But it dawned on her almost as quickly as the words left her mouth: perhaps there was more she could do. If she was going to make demands of him, then she would tailor the circumstances to his favor with reckless abandon.

“You and Luigi both,” she amended. Toadsworth would forgive her for altering the arrangement. He always forgave her last-minute declarations, however reasonable or brash. “Y-you’ll both be given rooms with full amenities, of course, and— a-a-and the staff will gladly provide any cooking or laundering you need done. We can— we’ll pay you, gladly! You’ll be compensated as always and then some. Double— no, triple! It’s the least we can do! And—”

“Pfft— ”

The unexpected noise jerked her back into spatial awareness, and she whipped in her chair to look behind, too quickly to see what sort of expression Mario was wearing.

Come to think of it, Luigi should have long since returned, shouldn’t he have?

“Have you been standing there this whole time?!” Mario, for his part, sounded every bit as startled as she felt; the sight of his two equally flustered friends must have pushed Luigi over the edge, because he quickly went from sputtering through his fingers to loud, boisterous, belly-clutching laughter.

“Oh, Princess!” he guffawed, swiping a finger at the corner of his eye, “I don’t think he caught anything after ‘implemented’ ! He’s been staring off into space with this real dreamy look for the past thirty seconds straight!”

“Weegee!” There was a bite to Mario’s tone, and she looked at him just in time to watch a deep blush blossom across his face.

“You should’ve seen it! His whole face lit up like a big Fire Flower. I think you’ve made his year!”

“Luigi!”

The voice of reason, a constant companion from her earliest days, told Peach that there was no reason to jump to conclusions. This was a manner that would need discussed in great depth and whose nuances would need to be carefully weighed before a decision was reached. She’d be a fool to start drawing conclusions so quickly.

The voice of intuition, now shrieking like an overeager teenager, told her that Mario had already made up his mind.

“You just keep resting up, okie-dokie?” Peach pulled her hand from Mario’s grasp as Luigi slid beside her, ruffling his brother’s dark hair before plopping back into his seat. “Luigi will take care of everything! He’ll have all your clothes and supplies ready for ya. All you’ll have to do is get the doctor’s A-Okay and then move right on in!”

“Grazie.” Mario laid back and glared up at the ceiling, but his lips wavered and his shoulders twitched, like he was trying to hold back a smile or a laugh of his own. “Grazie mille, fratellino.” And finally his resolve cracked, a reluctant but good-humored grin spreading across his face; he turned his head just enough to catch Peach’s eyes, and once again, he didn’t say anything.

He didn’t need to. That was the last bit of confirmation she needed. She smiled back at him, willing her anxious heart to slow, and another outburst of mechanical beeping informed her that Mario’s heart was every bit as on edge.

“So!” Looking to Peach, Luigi remained the picture of mischievous cheer, but shining through was a glimmer of emotion that ran far deeper. Gratitude. “Where are we staying, Princess?”

~~~

Peach should have been happy. She should have been more relaxed and at ease than she had been in months. She was in her own bedroom, beneath her own puffy pink blankets, behind the lovely sheer curtains that surrounded her mattress and offered her an illusion of protection. A place of rest and comfort that had been hers and hers alone all her life.

She should have been happy. So why couldn’t she stop trembling?

Chill permeated to her very bones. She couldn’t get warm, no matter how heavily she dressed or how tightly she wrapped herself in her comforter. This was to be expected, Toadessa had assured her; she’d lost a great deal of her body fat during the course of her imprisonment, so she would be more susceptible to cold until she put on weight. “We’ll get those pounds back on you in no time,” Luigi had promised her, then he’d offered her two or three cantucci, fresh from the oven. She’d only been able to eat one.

Still, she couldn’t tell if she couldn’t relax because she was cold, or if she felt so cold because she couldn’t relax. She had at first switched off her lights, hoping the darkness would permit her a steadier sleep than she’d found in the medical ward. Her senses came more alive than ever once the light abandoned her, though, and she’d spent the better part of half an hour tossing and turning and forcing images of dank dungeons and dingy stone walls from her mind. 

Yet that was all she could see when she closed her eyes. If she finally managed to relax, the slightest noise or the slightest shift in the breeze outside ensured she was on high alert once more. It quickly became apparent that she had two choices: remain awake, exhausted, but grounded in the present, or return to her home away from home in all but body.

With a resigned sigh, she fixed her robe and pulled it tighter as she threw her blanket back. The choice, though unpleasant, was easy.

She thought for a moment to stand on her balcony, as she was apt to do on sleepless nights, enjoying the fresh air and watching the lights glimmer through Toad Town’s sleepy streets. Another chill rattled her bones, and this time, she was able to place its source: she didn’t want to be alone right now.

Simple enough, she supposed, shuffling barefoot to the door to her drawing room. It was just barely eleven, almost a full hour ‘til midnight. Perhaps Mario was having trouble sleeping. He was prone to late-night restlessness, by his own admission. And even if he was asleep, Luigi might be awake, keeping watch, just in case his brother went into an unexpected decline.

They could watch over him together. The one who meant more to them both than anyone else. And should Luigi be asleep as well, then she would watch over them both. Perhaps then she would feel a bit less useless.

She opened her door in one fluid motion—

“Ah—!”

Mario’s left arm was raised, his hand balled into a loose fist, as though he’d been prepared to knock at the no-longer-closed door.

Peach mirrored his startled noise unconsciously and stepped back, taking him in, trying to decide if she’d unknowingly slipped into a dream. This Mario looked unnaturally well, after all; he’d traded his medical gown for long fleece pants and a short-sleeved red tee-shirt, both of which had clearly seen better days. His pallor was gone, his skin a deep and healthy tan, his arms covered in pale scars of varying length and thickness. His eyes were alert, and color tinted his cheeks, a lovely and rosy pink—

His cheeks. Not quite sunken in, but certainly not as plump as she remembered. She’d seen Mario in her dreams innumerable times in the past months. Only in the past few days had she seen this Mario. 

“Hey,” he finally said, and the bashful smile he graced her with was the same one she had seen that afternoon, in the medical ward, where he’d fought for and regained his life at a rate not naturally possible.

“Hey,” she responded. A similarly shy smile tugged at her lips.

Perhaps they should have lingered longer. Mario had an excuse prepared, if a flimsy one— “I just… I mean, I can’t not check in on you, I feel like I’m sleeping on the job, heh…” —and propriety dictated that Peach should thank him for his concern and see him off for the night, or perhaps invite him to sit in the drawing room with her for a few minutes. He was still supposed to be in the med ward, after all, and she was supposed to be a lady of decency and dignity.

Propriety also dictated that she shouldn’t let herself get kidnapped and indirectly force her dearest friend to abuse himself for weeks just to bring her back, so Peach, at the moment, really didn’t care what propriety called for.

There was awkwardness at first, just a smidge. Inviting him to sit seemed the best course of action. Rather than one of the seats in the drawing room or the small tea table in the opposite corner, Peach returned to her bed and sat at the edge of her mattress; Mario, after a pause, followed her, quietly closing the door behind him.

He stopped in front of her, but made no move to join her on the bed.

She was eleven inches taller than Mario (ten when barefoot, thirteen when in her fanciest shoes), so she was quite used to looming over him. But with him standing while she sat, their faces, for once, were at the same level. She could see it clearly in his visage: this was just as strange to him as it was to her.

He was close enough to touch, yet he felt so far away. What was she to make of the uncertainty that flitted across his features? Was he having second thoughts about the proposition he’d agreed to? About being here? About… about baring himself to her, proclaiming his love for her? Had he acted in an impetuous frenzy, sick with pain and relief, only to realize in a moment of clarity that it was all a lie? It wouldn’t have surprised Peach. She knew it was too good to be true.

In the ten seconds it took these thoughts to run their course, she hadn’t even noticed his hands raising, hovering so close to her face. Tentatively closing their distance. She glanced down at them and held her breath, suddenly terrified that one wrong movement would make him retreat.

“...Mario?” she chanced.

The uncertainty deepened. Mario’s brow creased and his lips formed around a single syllable, but went still before they could sound anything out.

In lieu of words, he touched her.

Peach’s breath quickened, and she felt her skin go hot beneath his palms. She was so fragile, and she was all too aware of it now, her jaw and cheeks bony from malnourishment, his hands calloused from work and powerful from experience. And yet, for the first time since departing for bed, she felt safe. He could break her so easily, yet he handled her like painted porcelain, and she knew to her very core that she couldn’t be in better care.

His hands trembled against her. In the lamplight, his eyes glinted, deep blue and cautiously attentive. Watching her.

She understood his uncertainty now, gazing into those eyes. He was waiting. He wanted her to affirm her comfort, or else tell him if he was pushing a boundary that couldn’t yet be crossed. He needed to know how far she would let him take this. 

Once more, her breath stopped… and then she gave him her answer.

In lieu of words, she kissed him.

Mario only tensed for a single heartbeat, and then he sighed against her lips, heavy and shaking, his body going slack. She pulled back to give him a chance to catch his breath and recompose himself, but he pulled her back in instead, properly cradling her face in his palms, returning her kiss deeply and slowly. All at once Peach felt hot, and dizzy, and maybe a touch dehydrated. She brought her arms around his neck and clung to him like a life raft, like she was adrift in an endless sea and he was her one and only saving grace.

This was everything and nothing like that night in the grass. Wonderful, beautiful, perfect— but where there had been fireworks that night, there was now a flame, flickering and self-sustaining and growing in steady intensity. There was no grabbing of hair, no frantic desperation, just long, unhurried stretches of bliss.

His lips were warm, and soft, and moved in unpracticed harmony with her own. He tasted sweet. Not sweet like a decadent dessert, but sweet like the first sip of water after spending all day in the sun.

They parted on their own terms this time, lingering for longer and longer between kisses, each time reveling in the scant space between them. Peach wanted to look, wanted to see what sort of expression Mario wore, wanted to know that he felt as whole and satisfied as she now felt. She kept her eyes shut instead, just in case it was a dream. Just so she could enjoy it a while longer.

In an interlude for air, Mario’s thumbs ghosted over the curves of her cheekbones, his touch so gentle that it tickled.

“...Luigi said I, uh… crawled into bed with you,” he muttered, ever so slightly slurred. “That first night back. So… sorry about that.”

Peach’s face grew warm once more — so they had been caught, but left alone to rest peacefully — and she giggled. “I crawled into bed with you, Mario.” She couldn’t resist tilting her chin to steal another kiss. “Do you not remember?”

He hummed. “Everything’s still kinda fuzzy. I remember feeling all sore and loopy…” Another brush of their lips, delicate and lazy. “And I remember… feeling happy, too. There was pain, and then there wasn’t.” Even in the darkness, she could hear the smile in his voice. “I remember having the best dream.”

Peach’s eyes peeked open, the golden glow of her bedside lamp trickling into her vision. The light cast soft shadows across his face, illuminating scars and freckles and dimples, framing the mellow, dreamy smile on his lips.

He had chosen to keep his eyes closed, too. 

“I’m not ready to wake up yet,” he’d told her, delirious from exhaustion and anesthetics. Did he dream of her often? What sorts of sweet nothings did they exchange in those dreams? What words and gestures of love did he share with her, his tongue unbeholden to etiquette or shyness or whatever force held him back for so long? What she would give to hear it all uncensored, all day and all night long.

“I shouldn’t be here.”

Peach, already leaning in for another kiss, withdrew just as quickly.

Mario’s eyes blinked open as a new silence fell between them, and instantly she knew the look he gave her. She’d come to recognize it even when she was still oblivious, the hopeful twinkle that hid behind every offer to fix something that didn’t particularly need fixed and every request to assist her in her work, however menial.

He shouldn’t have been there, a man in the Princess’ most private chambers at this hour. He knew this as well as she did. And he was begging her to give him a reason to stay anyway.

Peach, for her part, could find no shortage of excuses.

“Of course you should.” She unwound her arms from around his neck as she spoke, cupping his cheeks just as he cupped hers. “You’re my guard, are you not? I’d feel safest if you remained within arm’s reach.”

She always found reasons for him to stay. Over the years, she’d become an expert at conjuring up something that needed done that only Mario could assist with, and every single time, that hopeful twinkle flared into an aura of satisfaction and contentment, sometimes even excitement.

This made the darkness that fell over him, sudden and cold, that much more alarming.

She barely had time to call his name before that darkness lifted. The air around them remained dense, and a flurry of emotions flicked across his face too quickly for Peach to decipher any of them, but he smiled through it, small and doleful but sincere.

“Yes.” He pulled her in once more, and her eyelids fluttered shut in anticipation. This time, however, he redirected; he kissed her left cheek, light and fleeting, before pressing his forehead to her temple. “Yes, I’ll… I’ll keep you safe this time, Princess.” 

He inhaled, then exhaled, both breaths shaking and quiet, and Peach couldn’t help but wonder why she suddenly felt sad.

Just as quickly as sorrow touched her, he chased it away with another kiss to her cheek, ticklish and sweet and slow. “I’ll keep you safe.” He whispered the affirmation, and she felt his lips curl upward against her skin. “I promise.”

[seaofreverie]

Sparkstember Day 19: Lil' Beethoven (Ride 'Em Cowboy)

First of all, let this very important fact be known: the love I have for all three albums in the Lil' Beethoven trilogy cannot be overstated. I think I can safely call them my favourite pieces of art ever made. You know, when you look forward to something and it not only lives up to all your expectations but it's also just SO SO much more? Something about this neoclassical / dada / deconstruction of pop music / whatever-you-should-even-call-it approach is absolutely PERFECTLY suited for my tastes, and I didn't even know I was looking for something EXACTLY like this until I found it.

I think the circumstances of my first hearing of this album are pretty funny and something I got pretty lucky with actually (I often think about this with Sparks in general, as much as I wish I've known about them sooner I also do feel like they appeared in my life when I needed that the most. But anyway.) I was very eagerly looking forward to hearing it and finally seeing for myself what the genius of this album is all about. But I insisted that I can only do it through a physical format because yesss, let's make it even more *special*! The moment I've been waiting for! So yeah let's gooo, I need to wait until my CD arrives in the mail (that was one of the longest weeks of my life). And then I started to wonder, well, maybe I actually won't like it that much. To hype myself up to this extent and then be severly dissapointed - would have sucked!

Well, I was NOT dissapointed. Instead I was perplexed, confused, but also very intrigued and quite, ok not just quite, *completely* amazed already. That was the initial reaction and I think it's a rare but very beautiful moment when this happens - no need to *fully* grasp it right away, but enough to be all like "oh that was SOMETHING. I need more." As I said after that first listen (and I actually have my whole LIVE reaction to hearing LB written down lmao, that's how much of a big deal this was for me), I felt like it actually has to grow on me a bit still, gradually but surely with each next listen, rather than the 1st listen being THE prime listening experience. And that was very true! But it wasn't even gradual, it was very fast, seriously. And something very important that stood out to me right away too were the melodies - something about them, and that continues into HYL and ECOTD too. It's this classic feeling of: this always existed, or at least it feels like I've known it for years already. And as I listen more and become more familiar with them the magic still grows.

It's of course no coincidence to me that an album that relies so much on extreme levels of repetition is so addicting, even hypnotising. And once upon a time I thought that I couldn't like something that's too repetitive and therefore could be considered monotonous or "predictable". But nothing is predictable about LB actually. (Besides... ok, I'll get to that one bit later). But yeah, it's good for the brain. And it's been said before by others but this music definitely has this certain neurodivergent appeal thanks to all this, and, well, I love that aspect of it so much and I definitely relate to it on some level that goes even deeper than just song topics and instrumentation choices. It's in the structure and the fundaments of it all too.

I legally can't finish this without a dedicated paragraph to the 2004 Live In Stockholm performance because HOLY SHIT. Feeling so lucky again that all three of these albums got this treatment and we have recordings of these half-concert-half-performance-art pieces that we can now marvel at. I will say that like, a pretty big part of the sum of the appeal that LB has as an album is stored in this show and its visual and narrative elaboration on its themes. And also it's just so fun to watch! Sometimes I thought about how this might be an even better introduction to LB / this era of Sparks / Sparks in general than the actual album but well, never had a chance to test that and you know. Maybe shouldn't recommend Sparks with one of the most leftfield things there is to be found from them. Either way, very good, very important, felt like experiencing the power of LB for the first time all over again.

So now, please hear my exact reasonings for why I so deeply love (almost) every single one of these songs......

The Rhythm Thief

NO song made such a big impression on me the first time I heard it as this. I might have gotten more used to it after all this time but man, The Rhythm Thief, you will always be the realest one to me. This is what made me look forward to the whole album so much and convinced me that it would be like nothing else I've heard before. And that turned out to be so very beautifully true!

How Do I Get To Carnegie Hall?

I could listen to this one a hundred times in a row over and over and not get sick of it one bit. That's it, idk what else to add, beautiful and ethereal in every way

What Are All These Bands So Angry About?

Mostly I just want to direct everyone's attention to the bridge section, at the 2:26-2:52 time mark, which as far as I can say is the most heavenly piece of music ever made. Feeling like that Winnie The Pooh soul leaving his body gif each time I hear this

I Married Myself

Aromantic anthem, to me. Not that much to say actually but it's just, a very sweet and pretty song even when it might be taken as just this sort of ironic piece, I think it's this situation where a song can be taken more or less literally and it doesn't lose anything, rather the sincerity takes on a new sort of meaning? Because yes, maybe this hyperbolic situation (marrying yourself) COULD be the solution to the heartbreak of failed relationships. Ever thought about that??? Ok, stopping right here and leaving my I Married Myself analysis for another day

Ride 'Em Cowboy

My mind is blank on this one suddenly. But it's so good believe me. I love it a lot. It just has this LB spirit that makes it very addicting to listen to

My Baby's Taking Me Home

This was sort of the first Sparks song I've ever heard, or maybe that I quote-unquote purposefully listened to, and I think that's pretty important considering that it was the moment that ultimately lead to... all this. This song has always been incredibly beautiful and powerful to me, but lately it just makes me emotional to an extent that makes it hard to listen to most of the time. I WOULD sell all my material possessions for even one chance to experience this song live by the way

Your Call Is Very Important To Us. Please Hold

Earns soooo much as a live version, but even without that I think it's genius in the same way as The Rhythm Thief, and maybe the most disquieting piece here overall... If we ignore the next one maybe

Ugly Guys With Beautiful Girls

Sitting there hearing the intro of this song all like "huh, this is so chill and calm... too calm..." and then being hit with, well, everything that's going on in this song afterwards was truly THE MOMENT back in the day (and re: the predictability thing. idk though, it's not like, really an issue). Later on I decided that this sort of narrative nature of the song makes it have less replayability value than the rest (???) but I abandoned that opinion soon enough, thank god. I love it how long it took me to realize that this song and the ending of MBTMH are the only times when drums appear on this entire album (I mean no, I'm not very proud of that fact actually, as the self-proclaimed biggest LB fan in my area. And The Rhythm Thief literally saying "say goodbye to the beat"... come on man). So yes, sometimes less is more! I adore this song now it's such a treat I would gladly terrorize my neighbours with it

Suburban Homeboy

Ok, I'm sorry Suburban Homeboy fans but this is the only song here that I'm not a HUGE fan of. I still think it's brilliant and an incredibly fitting ending for the whole thing - the mood whiplash is amazing as this is the only "vaguely happy sounding" song on here, per my words from months back. And what's better than yelling WE ARE THE SUBURBAN HOMEBOYS! (I'm actually awaiting today's Sparks karaoke rating reveal very impatiently lol the reveal happened before I posted this and I'm very happy about it)

One more actually, a quick word on Wunderbar because it gave us two things that we might have not been able to do without: 1) this whole album actually (the fact that LB exists because of Wunderbar giving the Maels the idea to continue meddling with this style. Up there as one of my fav pieces of Sparks trivia) 2) anddddd the 21×21 performance of it of course

[cityzenshark]

Firsts to Grow Up - One's own feelings

With Robby hospitalised, the Maltos got rocky with each other. The three humans went back and forth to Philadelphia hospital for days. Dorothy forbids the Terrans and Bumblebee from the leaving the farm. Alex puts his foot down when the Terrans insist that the magic cave water might help, reminding them of increasing GHOST activities due to the wrecked Bot Brawl in the city and Grimlock's PTSD attack near Witwicky town. Mo distances herself from the Terrans, fearing she might say the wrong thing in front of them again.

Assuming her adopted family no longer wants them, Twitch disobeys Dot and Alex and brings her younger siblings to the cave where she and Thrash starved at in the middle of the night. Thrash calls out Twitch's lack of empathy, leading to a fight between them.

Meanwhile Hashtag, who proposed the cave water idea in the first place, feels she wanted to drown.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"I thought I'm the rule breaker out of us." Thrash said loudly, surprising his siblings to a stop on their not-so sneaky trek up the hill. Twitch recovered from her shock first and turned to her twin angrily.

"Thrash! Are you trying to make GHOST hear us?"

Thrash crossed his arms in disbelief. "Look who's talking. Us being out here is enough for GHOST to see us."

Twitch scoffed, "Why are you following us then, Thrash?"

"To bring you back, duh. Now let's go home before Bee notices we're missing."

"No." Twitch said firmly. "We're going to the cave with the mural in it. It's nearby."

"And then you'll come home?"

Twitch looked away. Realisation dawned on the rest of the Terrans.

Jawbreaker said in disbelief. "Are we not going home after this?"

"No, JB." Twitch replied, avoiding eye contact. "We're going to stay in the cave."

"What!" the triplets cried out in unison.

Nightshade spoke up, "Mother and father will be worried sick--"

"They don't care about us anymore, Nightshade!" Twitch yelled, floating at the owl Terran's face. "You saw how angry they are at us. You heard what Mo said. 'I wish we never found the Emberstone.'"

"Mo didn't mean that," Jawbreaker retorted. "She's super upset about Robby."

"Oh yeah? Why won't she see us anymore? Care to answer that, JB?"

"People say things they didn't mean to when their upset."

Jawbreaker felt his spark twinge when Twitch scoffed at him, "Sounds like she means it to me!"

Thrash approached his twin angrily. "You think everything is about you, Twitch? What Mo said hurts me, too. But like Jawbreaker said, she didn't mean it! Mo will come around again when Robby gets better."

"And what if he won't?" Twitch asked, challenging. "What if the hospital can't cure him? What if they take him and Mo away to experiment the sleeves?"

"If they don't…" Hashtag began. She stopped under Twitch's glare.

"If they don't what?" The drone Terran probed.

"Twitch." Thrash warned.

"I want to hear it. If they don't what, Hashtag?"

Hashtag stammered. "If-- If they don't examine the sleeves, we'll never know what got Robby sick in the first place."

Twitch groaned exasperatedly. "You've got to be kidding me! We know exactly what got Robby sick -- our lost link! The moment we can't feel each other, Robby almost died. It's so obvious."

The Terrans stared at their small sister in disbelief.

Nightshade broke the silence with a calm tone, "Twitch, sister, Robby didn't almost die because of the lost link. Our emotional link was lost because Robby almost died."

"Same difference. I thought you're the smart one, 'Shade."

Nightshade felt a hurtful pang. And then they were angry. "Is our link more important than our brother's life? Is that why you don't want to return to the farm?" Nightshade didn't wait for Twitch to respond. "I understand how important the emotional link is. Without it, we won't know how we're doing when we're not together. We literally used it so Hashtag can fight the mind control device off of her."

Hashtag slowly coiled as her triplet continued.

"Do you want to know what I really feel about the link?"

"What--"

"I'm disturbed by it."

Nightshade's triplets and Thrash were aghast.

Twitch had a look of betrayal.

"How could you?"

"How could I?" The owl Terran echoed. "How could I not! I keep feeling what you feel about things I love. I know how annoyed you all feel every time I didn't join your playtime. I understand that you want me to spend time with you, but none of you bothered to spend time with me while I tinker. I'd rather only acknowledge how annoyed you feel about my hobby, not feeling it directly."

"You could've asked us to stop feeling annoyed." Twitch said.

"'Stop feeling'? I can't ask you to not feel something, Twitch. I just don't want to feel emotions that's not my own."

"So you never wanted to be part of our family, is that it?" Twitch asked accusingly.

"Twitch!" Thrash and Hashtag cry out.

"All I want is privacy on my own thoughts and emotions. That's how it should be!" Nightshade clenched their claws into fists as they reply as calm as they could muster. "Does it ever occur to you how much the link burdens Mo and Robby?"

"They never say anything wrong--"

"They never said anything for OUR sakes!" Now Nightshade was screaming, tears prickled their eyes. "Every morning, Robby and Mo get headaches because they feel every emotion we felt the whole night before. Even our parents didn't say this to us because they love us! They don't want us to know how much we've been hurting them. Now I know I sound awful and I want to clarify I wish we never lost it like this, but perhaps losing this link is a blessing for all of us. Especially for Robby and Morgan."

.

.

.

Continuation here

[littlelovelyspiderling]

Hello lovely ☺️ how scandelous would it be to ask for perhaps a sneak peak of the next chapter?

👉👈 perhaps a lil snippet? A crumb? 🥹🥺🫣🙌

*clutches pearls* oh my…oh dear…i’ve never been asked this before 😳 this is a first for me.

am i allowed to do this?? why does it feel illegal lmao 🫨

i mean you did ask very nicely & i am dying to show the next chapter to yall & i am indeed a strong independent woman who can do whatever the hell she wants so…here you go?? i guess??

disclaimer: it took me a very hot minute to decide which part to do & i haven’t edited / beta read anything yet so it might change a bit once i post the full chapter…also hopefully this scene makes some kind of sense to you out of context. double also this will be the ONLY part i share bc i don’t wanna spoil the whole thing 😤 but i hope you like 🤭🩵

—————————————

“So…” Spider-Man said, voice low but playful. “Come here often, hot stuff?”

Despite his best efforts, Johnny busted into a laugh, shaking his head from side to side. “Shut up, you loser,” he giggled.

“Wait, wait, I can do better than that. Somebody call the fire department, ‘cuz this guy is smokin’.”

“Is this you attempting to flirt with me? Corny pickup lines and cheesy one-liners? You really think that’s the key to my refined and sophisticated heart?”

“Well? Is it working?” Spidey asked in whisper, the words curling upwards just like the goofy smile Johnny knew he had on behind his mask. The Human Torch rolled his eyes.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he mumbled fondly. The two of them kept their faces and bodies angled forward as they spoke, daring not to show any physical displays of affection with so many eyes on them.

“Pretty lousy atmosphere for a first date, if you ask me,” Spidey continued, quiet and coltish. “Some orchids or candles would’ve been nice.”

“You want to count this as our first date?” Johnny whispered back. “I was planning to take you somewhere with much better ambiance and way fewer older sisters around. Maybe rent a gondola and a string quartet or something. But if you’d like, we can always save that for date number two.”

Spider-Man shrugged. “Either way. Your idea does sound a lot more romantic than the humiliation ritual we’re about to be subjected to...”

Johnny ventured a look at the rows of heroes sitting in the arena’s viewing room and grimaced. “Especially with my teammates watching,” he said gravely. His gaze swiveled to his feet, and he swallowed. “I am so not good at this ‘keeping secrets’ thing, Webs. I really like you, and am obviously terrible at hiding it.” His hands knotted into fists at his sides. “So if you’re set on keeping this thing on the down low, we’ve really gotta sell the whole ‘platonic super bros’ shtick. We can’t do anything that even suggests that we like each other like that. Not with them watching us like fish in a bowl.”

Spidey faced him then, head drooping a bit. “I’m sorry I’m making you lie to your teammates,” he murmured. “I know firsthand how complicated it can get.”

“It’s all right. I lie to them about all kinds of stuff all the time.” Johnny smiled apologetically. “I just wish I was better at it.”

Spider-Man scratched the back of his neck. “Lucky for us, we’ll probably be too busy getting blasted by drones or pummeled by robotic thugs to do anything remotely romantic-y looking while we’re in here.”

Johnny elbowed him in the side. “Well, double lucky for us: we’ve done this exact drill in real life already, and won. I can’t imagine fake thugs or drones being any harder to beat than those insane kidnappers we fought.” Mischief tugged at the corners of his lips as he tucked his hands politely behind his back, raising his chin and tracing his gaze along the outline of Spidey’s throat. “And after we win this,” Johnny added, “I’m gonna drag you somewhere no one will bother us and spend the rest of the afternoon sucking on your neck until it’s all one big hickey. Sound good?”

A noise sputtered out of the masked hero that sounded like a cross between a cough and a squeak. Johnny clapped him triumphantly on the back as he strolled forward, whispering in his ear as he close as he dared as he passed by. “Best leave the flirting to the professionals, bug boy.”

——————————

TA-DA!! this feels so wrong but i hope it gives you a fun little taste of what’s to come heeheeHEEEE

[brokendarkfairyempressforever]

Thanks for being alive. When you see this I want to let you know that I'm happy that you're still here. I'm happy that you're still breathing. I'm proud of you. I'm proud that you got out of bed. I'm proud that you ate something. I'm proud that you drank something. I'm proud that you cleaned. I'm proud of you for sleeping. I'm proud of you for resting. I'm proud of anything you were able to do today. Even if you think you didn't do anything I'm still proud because you're still here and haven't left yet. It's so hard to be alive when it feels like you're fighting for your life every second of your day. I'm proud. I don't know who needs to see this but you are not worthless. I promise you you're not. Right now you may feel like what's the point of being alive and you may feel like this for a long time. But as a person who suffers from a lot of mental illnesses life's worth it. I met some amazing people who make me feel life seem not that bad. I'm finding out and remembering who I am and I'm changing and I'm growing. I will have dark moments throughout my life the life I had I know there's going to be dark moments. But also I know I'm going to have moments where everything's okay not perfect but a lot better than before. I know you may think you have no one but look around there's always at least someone or maybe you have to find them but trust me when I say you're not alone in this world. I know I'm a stranger but I hope you know that I want you to be alive. I want to let you know I'm proud of you. I want to let you know I care. Please stay