#I SAT FOR TWO HOURS LAUGH CRYING ABOUT THE SIMILARITIES

[jellazticious]

HEAR ME OUT-

[readychilledwine]

5 Steps Forward, 2 Steps Back

Rhysand Week Day 5 - Survivor

Summary - 50 years without your mate and husband seems almost easy now that you two are facing his recovery

Warnings - implied Rhysand power surge causing a similar situation, mental health, depression, recovery, angst, training, the power of choice coming into play

A/N - Happy Day 5 of @officialrhysandweek! This one was rough to write. Mental health is such a huge under discussed topic, and Rhysand, I feel, would be a huge advocate for it. Becoming a survivor is something many will say is process and choice. Rhysand definitely made the choice to recover and fight, and I imagine he leaned heavily on the IC to do so. I think that's so powerful. This was my favorite prompt for this week.

✨️Rhysand Week Masterlist✨️Rhys Masterlist✨️Master Masterlist✨️

The wine bottle and plates shattered on the floor were a clear sign that things weren't actually okay.

You released a breath from the chair you sat in, unsure of what had even happened. You and Rhysand had been talking. He'd been having a great day. But now? Now, the dinner you had spent hours making for your mate was all over the floor, ruined as you sat there shaking in fear.

“I didn't mean to do that,” he gasped out as if he was trying to breathe again. “I don't know what happened. I-” Rhysand's powers had been what happened. He had zoned out while eating, he had let himself relax, let himself be vulnerable.

“It's okay.”

“You're fucking terrified. It's not okay!”

He was angry with himself, with his inability to control his mind and emotions. You had to move to separate rooms to sleep. You had to use magic to change the flowers in the garden. You had to remove all dresses that reminded him of her from your closet. He knew you were doing this because you love him. Because you were his mate. Because you hoped he would heal.

But he didn't see that light most days. He was trapped in an ocean of emotion. Drowning as he so desperately tried to reach the surface where light was reflecting, mocking him. Happiness was just out of his reach, laughing in his face as he struggled.

Your hands were folded in your laps as your enchantments on the Riverhouse cleaned the mess, “We can go to Rita's or somewhere quiet.”

“We can go to Rita's or somewhere quiet,” he repeated back sarcastically. “Maybe you should go and I'll just stay here.”

It was a punch to the gut. You released another shaking breath, “Rhys-”

“We should consider separation. I am not who you need me to be anymore and I don't know if I ever will be again,” with lethal grace he stood, leaving you alone at the table. Your appetite was gone. How could you want food when your heart was fairly sure it had just stopped?

Seconds were minutes. Minutes were hours. Hours passed like days.

You sat there waiting, crying, hoping he'd come back, hoping this was just an irrational statement that you two could talk about. But his face. His tone. Everything made you pause, holding a tight breath in your chest before releasing a loud sob.

Rhys had been home from the mountain for a month. His trauma had only been healing for a month. You had not expected progress. You had only wished to be a source of light for him, a tether of brightness as he sat in the dark. For 50 years you had prayed for him. You'd pray for 50 more if that's what it took, but you were lying to yourself if you tried to pretend it didn't bother you when you denied your kisses. Pretended it didn't bother you when he wouldn't touch you. Wouldn't look at you.

Your husband and mate was gone. Deep in his mourning, his heartache, his pain. You stood and walked to your room, not even taking a moment to glance at the lavish walls and plush furniture. Collapsing onto your bed, you laid there. The heels you wore ached, the dress you were wearing felt too right, everything felt wrong in this room.

The wrong soft silk sheets. The wrong scent. The wrong temperature. It wasn't the bed you two shared. It wasn't Rhysand's scent cocooning you. It wasn't the warmth of his wings sitting across you like a weighted blanket. It was empty.

Rhysand was in the same place in the marriage bed you should have been in. He had his head resting in his hands, eyes shut as he took deep stilling breaths. Hurting you was his biggest fear these days. 50 years being powerless, of being abused and used, of her. Your love for him, the way you had not even screamed, the way you'd only held him, it almost was too much.

He'd prepared for anger, for yelling, for anything besides you falling to your knees and begging to help him. What had happened to him felt like ash sitting in his stomach. A poison just waiting to kill.

But even ash had a cure.

Even his darkest moments could have light if we just continued to fight.

And so the next morning, he did. He forced himself out of his cold bed at 5am, throwing in training leathers before entering the chambers across from his that you slept in. “I'm going to go train,” he whispered into your ear. It was a sense of normalcy, a pattern you two held every day before those long dreaded year.

He'd whisper to you every morning, telling you where he was going, how long he'd be gone, and most importantly, the words he said next, “I love you, darling.”

The ghost of a smile came to your face, the bond subconsciously responding to him. “I love you and I'm going to fight for me. For us,” his hushed tone still rang through your sleeping soul, his voice so low and sure. “Don't give up on me.”

“Never,” you responded in your sleep. “Never give up.”

Rhysand fought harder that morning with Cassian. Hands striking true and hard as they practiced hand to hand, body moving in a pattern and rhythm he thought he'd long forgotten.

You walked out to grunts and Azriel yelling encouragement. To the sound of wings fluttering and flaring. To sand moving with the force of the powerful males before you. This was him, this was Rhysand. This was his mind, throwing his anger and his frustration right where he needed. This was him finally taking the offer of his brothers to be his target.

“Left side,” Azriel yelled. “Left!”

You flinched for Cassian as Rhysand pounded that opening, the rookie mistake handing Rhysand an advantage. “Come on, Rhys,” Azriel shouted again.

You continued to watch, tray with waters in your hands as Rhysand made the choice and fought so much more than just his brother today.

A leg sweep. A basic move Rhysand had spent hours teaching you. That's what it took for him to take down Cassian. Azriel was the first to react, running to Rhysand and picking him up to celebrate the General's back meeting the sand pit they picked to train in. Cassian's deep laughter tore through the air next, joy shaking the trees and your bones as he realized Rhys had won. You set the water down before being the one to help pull Cass up, barely staying steady as you did.

Rhysand and Azriel were still celebrating his hand to hand win against Cassian as you leaned against said male. “You left your side open on purpose,” you stated under a steady breath.

Warm eyes met yours, “And if I did?”

“Why? He's never going to let this go.”

Cassian only kissed your hair before answering in a hushed, deep tone, “Because he said once when we were little that the day he beats me hand to hand is the day he learns he can beat anything. It's time for him to learn he can beat anything, especially when he makes the choice to.”

"It will not be an easy fight," you held Cassian's eyes.

The General gave you his signature smirk, "Then I guess it's good all of us are here to fight with him."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[xoxoluka]

fic or oneshot request for jschlatt x streamer! reader?? that’s really all i got, but i’m obsessed w the idea of it

ooh wait maybe they’ve kept their relationship secret but they do a collab video and it’s how everyone finds out that they’re together

yes yes yes!!!

"Ｓｃｈｌａｔｔ ｇｅｔｓ ｇａｍｅ？"

pairing: jschlatt x cc!reader

summary: the fans finally figure out who your 'mystery boyfriend' is, basically.

warnings: swearing, reader is implied to be clean girl aesthetic and wears makeup, etc

a/n: its like 3am, its so hot... someone sedate me

a blind person would be able to see that you and schlatt were in no way similar. you ran your own, singular channel, where you gave advice, did cleaning timelapses, makeup tutorials, hair tutorials, the works. on the other hand, schlatt ran multiple channels, had multiple companies, and had multiple podcasts. he was everywhere, while you were in one place. no one ever thought that they would see this specific stream.

"do you really think we should do this?" you ask, unsure of him rather than yourself.

"yeah, what's the problem with it?" he shrugs nonchalantly, making sure the camera was in the right position.

"nothing, but.. you with your bits, and lore, and everything... you really think they're gonna be 'okay' with it?" you question, your voice quiet.

schlatt finally makes eye contact with you, giving you a look. you know he doesn't actually care about what people think, and has told you to not care, but you can't help yourself.

"listen, toots, whatever they say doesn't matter because i'm still gonna want to date you after this," he says in a strong tone, making his point known.

you nod and look down, letting out a tense breath and looking back up at him. "okay, let's do it."

the plan was for schlatt to be doing another tiktok reacting stream, and you come in to confront him about it. it was a bit that you couldn't remember which one of you came up with, but it was supposed to happen near the end of the stream. you had at least an hour to kill until then, most likely more.

⋘ ᴛʀʏ ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ... ⋙

you scrolled through instagram for nearly the whole two hours until you got the confirmation text from schlatt. you took in a quick breath and let it out, standing up and walking to his office.

"guys, we're almost at the end and not a single one of you has sent in something funny," schlatt shakes his head. "let's keep going."

"you said you would stop," you speak loud enough that the mic would pick it up from across the room. "you said you wouldn't react anymore."

this makes schlatt pause and put the camera into full screen mode, so more of the room and chat was visible. "listen, it's just one stream-"

"no, you said you were going to stop," you walk closer, the side of your torso now in frame. chat started to question what was going on and who had walked in.

"it's just- this is what they wanted," he defends, a small smile on his face.

"you said you were going to rehab, you're tearing this family apart," you say, fake crying until a loud, long meow came from your feet.

"oh! hi, jambo." you giggle, looking down at the cat that stared up at you, rubbing against your legs.

you pick up the orange kitty and hold him in front of the camera, letting chat get a good look at him. you set him down on the desk after a moment, and schlatt moves his chair back into focus of the camera.

"did you guys like that bit?" he asks, but the chat was still questioning who this person was in the first place.

you walk over and pull your own office chair away from your desk, the one that sat right next to schlatt's, and sat down next to him, finally showing your face to the camera.

'no way...'

'IT'S Y/N'

'WHAT'

screams filled the chat, people freaking out that schlatt had someone like you on his stream. "I actually expected you all to not know who I was," you laugh, playing with the necklace that sat across your neck.

"this is my girlfriend, you all need to be nice," schlatt says in a patronizing tone. you both read chat for a moment until a TTS comes through.

"schlatt gets game? that's crazy." it says, making you both laugh.

"no, i'm just here as a publicity stunt actually, the viewers were going down." you say jokingly, looking over at schlatt.

"yeah, money was getting tight, I needed an extra couple dollars." you both laugh at the joke.

playful banter and answering questions goes on for about twenty minutes, and everything goes fine to the end of the stream. schlatt ends it, and a still presence enters the room. he huffs and sits back in his chair.

"we'll find out tomorrow, huh." I say, sounding like more of a statement than a question.

"guess so," he says, looking over at you. a comfortable silence falls over the two of you as you gaze into each others eyes.

"i love you," you break the silence first, speaking quietly.

"love you more." he responds in the same tone.

a/n: that was straight bootycheeks... give me the opportunity to write a fic it will be better than this TRUST

© property of xoxoluka. do not repost.

[noroi1000]

Can you do one with Gojo and his really tiny newborn daughter ( I’m feeling a bit nostalgic because my niece)

When Gojo meet his daughter for the first time. He really taken back because how tiny she is. He like y/n sweetie where is the rest of her? In sweet way of course.

Her tiny little hands can’t even rap her his finger

Even the newborn baby clothes that he got for her don’t fit her. They have to roll up the little sleeves on her onesie😭

He show his baby to everyone and said look how cute she is and how small she is. Also keep asking Shoko is he baby a normal size for a newborn baby and she like yes Gojo.

He just loves his little girl so much.

Basically a really fluffy request Noroi and also Noroi if get any idea or scenarios please feel free to the request the more fluff the merrier🥰

Just really want to see Gojo being all cute with baby girl and wife🥰

Little Loved One

Summary: Gojo have very little daughter.

"I'm late! Sorry!" Your husband ran into the room, not caring to be quiet.

You didn't blame him for being late. Nothing happened. You knew he would be here as soon as he found out about it.

He quickly took off the blindfold and came closer, looking at your condition.

It was obvious that you were tired. But the sparkle in your eyes only proved that you were also happy.

"Where is she?" he asked you, looking around.

"You'll see her in a moment." You said with a smile and reached for his hand, then feeling his fingers gently hold you.

He took a chair and sat it next to your bed, running his fingers over your hand and the wedding ring you were wearing.

"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting. Everything's ready." Another woman entered the room with a small bundle in a blanket. She came to your side, placing the baby in your arms.

Her every step was carefully watched by your husband.

"Are you the father?" she asked with a smile, and then suddenly realized the similarity of his appearance and that of a small child. "Congratulations."

She gave you another smile as she left.

And with his help, you sat up on the bed differently and moved closer to him, showing your little sleeping face. The little girl's slightly pink skin seemed so soft just by looking at it.

His eyes scanned his daughter as she lay there.

He reached out a finger to lightly caress her cheek.

He always thought that babies who were just born were ugly. So pink and they don't move. And they just cry. But not even an hour after she was born, his daughter was so sweet. Fine white hair on her head and only slightly pink skin. And suddenly the child's hand reached for his finger. The tiny hands couldn't wrap around his finger.

"She's so small." he said, moving closer.

"Do you want to hold her?" you asked.

"Me?" He pointed at him.

"Who else? You're her daddy."

"This... What if..."

"Satoru." you interrupted his uncertainty. "She's your baby. Nothing will happen."

With a bit of uncertainty, he stretched out his arms, catching the baby.

She seemed even smaller in his hands! It was as if he could hold it in his hands and there would be enough space.

That's why he was afraid that he might tighten his hand too much or do something wrong and hurt her. With his little child, he can't be the strongest. He must be careful and gentle.

He smiled at the sight of her next to him, and when she moved slightly, he laughed.

How could such a little thing cause you so much trouble for so many months? Even though she was smaller compared to him, she was tiny. How could such a little girl keep you up at night? How could such little legs kick you from the inside?

"Have you named her yet?" he asked, grabbing her hand with two fingers, watching as her tiny fingers tightened on his nail.

"I thought maybe you would want to." You reached up to her head, stroking her little white hair.

And after a moment's thought, he spoke up.

"...Aiko?" He looked at you, waiting for your reaction.

"Aiko... Gojo Aiko. Do you like it?" You smiled. "What does that mean?"

"You could say Little Loved One."

He suddenly gained courage and kissed her forehead.

"Welcome to the Gojo family. My little Aiko."

  "I didn't know you'd be happy with my baby, Utahime." He laughed, leaning against the baby stroller, watching the woman's hand gently touch her little hand.

"Your child is not you. I can't believe this little angel could be like you. Her name?"

"Aiko."

"Even if I could deny it, I see that you are the father..." She looked at the white hair and long white eyelashes.

Gojo is so beautiful, so you both knew that your daughter would be beautiful.

Her daddy is a little overprotective. And you can be sure that her teenage years will be strange.

Satoru who chases all the boys away from his little daughter. This will be a sight you won't regret seeing.

It's all ahead of you, but you know that your daughter will attract a lot of eyes. Just like Satoru. But there will be someone to protect her.

Daddy's little girl.

Because now you constantly see him walking around with her, never leaving her for a moment. It was a lovely sight.

"She's so tiny. Was she born earlier than she should have been?"

"Shoko..." Gojo exclaimed, wanting her to explain.

"Everything is fine with her. But she's just a little smaller than she should be. She should make up for it as she grows. She's just smaller, but there's nothing to worry about."

"That's good. But I'm worried about what kind of father she has." She growled, a vein throbbing in her forehead.

"Hey Hey! I am the perfect father!" he said loudly and suddenly reached for his little daughter in the stroller when she woke up because of him. "Look at that little sweet face! She's happy to have a daddy like me!"

Cuddling Aiko against his broad chest he watched as her eyes opened and he looked at her. Her arms reached out to him as she let out a slightly dissatisfied moan.

"Aww, daddy is here." he moved her higher, watching with glee as her arms flailed around awkwardly. "Don't worry. Daddy will take care of you."

Walking into the room, you wrapped your arms around his waist, snuggling lightly into his side.

Your husband simply loves your family so much.

"It's delicious, isn't it?!" he laughed, giving a spoonful of food to Aiko and she started laughing.

Long legs kneeling next to the baby chair as he fed her.

You couldn't be jealous of your child. He gave a lot of attention to your daughter. But did it matter? She is your child. And you love her just the same. It's impossible not to love this baby.

____

"Hmm... I thought the clothes would fit this time." He groaned sadly, watching as the sleeves on your child's arms were too long.

"We'll go buy smaller ones. These will come in handy later." You stroked his arm soothingly, leaning into the kiss he gave you.

"I'm waiting for her to grow. My little one~."

____

"Look at her! She's so cute!!!!" His voice was howling as invisible arrows pierced his heart.

Your daughter just hugged a teddy bear that was almost bigger than her.

Isn't it perfect to see your husband with your daughter?

He who is constantly taking photos.

A man who was afraid to take her in his arms because he was afraid he would break her. Now he could take her everywhere with him. Because he doesn't want to leave your side.

The old worries about your daughter being tiny disappeared as she started to grow. She started to be like a normal child her age. Even though she was still tiny in your husband's hands.

He couldn't help but love his family.

Gojo's family is not so small anymore. Now he has two people he loves more than life itself.

And only one question appeared in his mind as he held his sleeping daughter in his arms.

"Honey, could we have another baby like this in the future?"

[xoxoxkisses]

hii! how are you doing? I hope you're doing well and feel happy right now!

may i ask for a muichiro x reader angst coded?

where muichiro and the reader had an argument then muichiro accidentally snapped out and slapped the reader? afterwards the reader doesn't seem to reciprocate the affection muichiro was giving even though he's apologizing several times but the reader still loves him? just trying to make him learn his lesson!

it's okay if you can't do this request,goodluck!

୧⍤⃝💐flowers for you

Hi, I’m doing great! I will gladly do this request, it’s a bit similar to the other angst I wrote buttttt it is going to be very different! Tysm for requesting this! I’m sorry if it’s not exactly what you were wanting!

————————————————————————

Unspoken Lesson

Warnings: Angst->fluff, muichiro slaps reader, (that should be it!)

————————————————————————

“Muichiro I don’t want you to be in the demon slayer corps anymore!” You’ve been trying to get your point across for around an hour. The two of you had been arguing over him quitting the corps, after you heard what happened to Rengoku and Tengen, you didn’t want your boyfriend to fight anymore. “Y/n, I want to save people, risk my life for the ones who can’t!” You didn’t want him to stop doing that, you just didn’t want him to fight. “What about me Muichiro? What happens to me if you die?!” You were crying at this point. He just wouldn’t listen. “You’d be taken care of by everyone else.” That wasn’t enough for you. You wanted your boyfriend to take care of you. “That’s not fair! How come you care for everyone else’s wellbeing and not mine?” You huffed at him. “I do care Y/n! You’re being selfish right now.”

“Selfish?! If it were me fighting you’d want me to quit-“ it’s like he snapped. All a sudden a sharp pain came across your cheek. Your tears instantly stopped, it’s like all of your emotions just stopped. He looked at you with wide eyes, realizing what he’s done. “Oh gosh Y/n, I’m so sorry!” He went to cup your face but you flinched. You turned to look at him and he almost started crying himself. Your eyes looked, dead.

Muichiro apologized profusely, but it was like you weren’t there. Like it was a ghost of you. You wanted to scream at him, cry, but you just couldn’t. He didn’t mean to slap you, he didn’t know what overcame him. You still loved him, but you couldn’t show him you did. ———————————————————————— 3 days.

It’s been 3 days since the argument. You still wouldn’t talk, your eyes still held the blank expression. Muichiro apologized over and over again, he tried so hard for you to forgive him. He bought you flowers, gifts, even told you he’d quit if it meant you’d talk to him again. You still did everything you normally did, just didn’t talk or reciprocate the affection he was giving you. He would hug you whenever, kiss you on the cheek, everything.

He regretted that day so much. Why did he have to slap you? He understood why you wanted him to quit, he really did. He just didn’t want to be reminded of how his brother shut his dreams down. He knew they were both for two different reasons, but it triggered him. He loved you, a lot. You were his everything.

A few more days went by and you still wouldn’t speak. “Y/n, I’m sorry. I love you.” He would tell you. You just stared at him. He was hoping one day he’d see a slight change in your eyes, but he didn’t.

You were making dinner when he came up behind you. He gave you a hug and spun you around where you faced him. He cupped your face and kissed you. You hadn’t ever hugged him back or blushed when he kissed you, but this was different. You felt it. He pulled back and noticed your eyes looked alive again. “Y/n, I’m sorry.” You still stared at him with the same stare you’ve had for days. “It’s okay Muichiro.” You gave him a slight smile. He let out a laugh, and scooped you up in his arms. “I’ve missed you.” He spun you around in a hug. “Ive missed you too Muichiro.” You whispered to him. He sat you back down, “Y/n I promise I won’t ever do something like that again.” You nodded at him, “I’m sorry for trying to make you quit your dream.” He ignored your apology and instead kissed you again.

Muichiro learned his lesson that day. And he kept that promise for the rest of his life.

[penelopepine]

I just read your "If the world was ending..." story and I LOVED it! I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if you could write something similar to it. 141 x reader and them reacting to their kid breaking a bone.

THANK YOU!!! ❤️ I'm so glad to hear that you liked it; I hope you like this as well too!

141 reacting to their kid breaking a bone:

Price:

He was in his home office doing some paperwork when the call from you came in. Your panicked voice had him instantly on edge; it wasn't until he got you to explain the situation did his mind stop thinking that the two of you were being taken from him.

It turns out that their son had hurt his wrist while trying to skateboard. Price knew that that skateboard would eventually cause trouble for him as soon as he saw his son walk through the door with it.

Price was of course still very worried about his son, and was already in the car by the time the call ended. It only took him a few minutes to arrive at the skatepark where you and their son were waiting for him.

You were fretting over your son the entire ride. His wrist was definitely broken, and the doctor quickly confirmed that after arriving at the emergency room.

An hour later the three of you were driving back home. Their son sat in the back with a dark green cast on his left arm, and an ice cream in his right hand.

Gaz:

Gaz was on the sidelines of the field with you when it happened. His and your daughter was playing in a juniors football game; acting as defensive center mid. She was running trying to get the ball back, and ending up tangling her feet with another girl's.

This caused both girls to fall to the ground; the only difference between them is that his daughter immediately starts to wail. It took everything you had to make him sit down, and wait for the coach to say if you both were needed out there.

He watched nervously from his seat; all he saw was his baby girl sitting on field with tears running down her face.

As soon as the coach started to wave them over Gaz was already up and rushing over to his daughter; you were of course one step behind him. Upon inspecting the scene before him it was clear that her ankle was badly hurt. Very carefully Gaz lifted her into his arms to car, and made your way to the hospital.

Unfortunately it turned out that her ankle was broken. She was of course very disappointed that she wouldn't be able to continue playing football until next season.

Soap:

It was late in evening, and he was making dinner with you. A sudden loud scream from your son alerted you both that something was very wrong.

You both look towards each other for a moment before running out of the house. Your son is still yelling and crying while lying on the ground under his favorite tree.

Soap is the first to reach him, and is quick to kneel down beside him. It's very obvious just looking at his leg that it is broken. Your son clings on Soap; crying into his shoulder. When asked what happened he says fell out of the tree.

Soap hauls him into this arms and into the car. Making sure to do his best to not jostle his leg very much. You choose to sit in back, and comfort your son as Soap speeds his way to the hospital.

He hates seeing his son cry; Soap wishes that he never had to feel pain. He also can't help but feel guilty right now. He is the one who encouraged his son to play outside, run around, and even climb that damn tree.

You seem to know how he's feeling cause as soon as you three are waiting in a hospital room you squeeze his hand. While whispering to him that this wasn't anyone's fault; it was just an accident.

Ghost:

Ghost and you were sitting on a park bench while your daughter ran around the playground playing with some of the other kids. As soon as your daughter screams Ghost is immediately on his feet. You both look just in time to see her hit the ground, and another boy pointing and laughing from the top of the playset.

Your daughter cries in your arm telling you that her arm hurts, and that she can't move it. You tell her to not try and move it anymore or else it could cause the injury to worsen.

Looking around to were Ghost is you see that he is standing to the side of the playset next to a woman. The boy is now standing behind the woman's legs as well. It's clear from her face that Ghost is tearing her to shreds; probably even threating her. You don't care to know though, and before you can even try to walk over there Ghost is turning to were you and your daughter are.

Silently he picks her up out of your arms, and you two go to the car. Ghost sits in the back with her while you drive everyone to the hospital.

Ghost refuses to put her down; not wanting anything else to hurt her. Only letting go when the doctors need to get x-rays and examine the arm. It is unfortunately broken, but your daughter is actually very excited to now have a pretty bright pink cast on her arm.

[nathanbatemanfucker]

In Plain Sight: Family Dinner

summary: nathan meets your sisters— alternatively, you get grilled by your family (nathan joins in of course).

pairing: nathan bateman x f!reader

contents: this entire series is 18+, SIBLINGSSSSSS, talks of dating, bi!reader, teasing, food mention, mentions of caretaking/sick parent, kissing, nathan is so in love (so is reader)

wc: 1,465

an: back at it with these two again. i adore them. i love them. this is lowkey chaos. and nathan sort of fits in perfectly with her family’s chaos which i was expecting to struggle with a bit. thank you to @juneknight for always being there to listen and brainstorm, you’re too good to me!

in plain sight masterlist | tiana | planted | little hamlet

3 months post To Atomize

“If neither of you are ready he doesn’t have to come. But, he’s very excited to meet you.”

Emma and Phillipa are sat on the couch as you stand— more like pace— in front of them. You shouldn’t be nervous, it’s not like this is the first time they’ve met someone you’ve been involved with. Nathan isn’t just somebody is he though? Asshole boss turned slightly less asshole boyfriend. The word feels weird in your mouth, not just because 6 months ago you were calling him Mr. Bateman, but because he seems like so much more than that.

All of his talk of being obsessed, about being consumed, well you feel the same way. You aren’t sure that the term boyfriend really compasses that. But, who would you be to shut that down— saying it doesn’t feel right, or strong enough— when Nathan had the most smug, giddy look on his face when he called you his girlfriend for the first time?

“Oh my god, don’t be a chicken, we’re ready,” Phillipa gripes, leaning back against the couch to more easily fish her phone out of her pocket.

“Hey, don’t call me a chicken.”

“You’ve been dating Mr. Bateman forever,” She says, scrolling on her phone. “It’s been on Twitter.”

“Its been 6 months. Call him Nathan, he's not some stuffy old man.” You say. Well— he’s not old at least. “And please don’t mention Twitter, I’m perceived enough these days.”

Emma pipes up finally, “Phil says that’s a hella long time.”

You narrow your eyes at the older girl who’s giving your younger sister a similar look. “Phil says hella, does she?”

“Emma you swore you wouldn’t tell!”

“I didn’t! I used it in a sentence!”

“Okay, okay— we don’t yell at each other.. You’re both sure?”

“Yes!” They say together with different levels of eagerness, though they’re both excited.

You regard them with wary eyes. Nathan’s excited. They’re excited. Your nerves are certainly there, but you are too.

“Alright but I need you both to be on your best behavior. Be the sweet girls I know you are. And no more cussing. Either of you.”

—

Nathan’s been uncharacteristically quiet but you know that he’s just gathering information, feeling things out. But, Phillipa takes that as nerves and being the rebellious teenager that she is, she wants to have some fun.

She mixes up the pasta in front of her, examines it as she nonchalantly asks, “Nathan, where do babies come from?”

Nathan bites back a nervous laugh. “Don’t they teach you that in sex ed? I mean scientifically speaking it’s a bore but—“

“Nathan,” You grit out in warning, your eyes meeting his.

He gets the message straight away, going in for a different method of attack. “I could make a baby with my bare hands. Program it to never cry or eat, to sleep its 16 hours.”

Emma perks up. “Like a babydoll? Mine is broken.”

“Emma, a new doll is on your Christmas list. It's not broken, you just want the new one,” Phillipa says, reaching for the red pepper flakes.

“I could build her one that's better than anything you could buy on the market. Those things crap out, they malfunction.”

Your brow furrows as you look over at Nathan, this is not where you expected this conversation to go, though you’re not ungrateful. “You’re going to build my sister a doll?”

“Oh, please? Please, please, Mr. Bateman!”

“I told you to call him Nathan, Em.”

Phillipa leans in, “Hey, what about me? Emma gets a doll what do I get.”

“Nathan isn't here to give you thinks, Phil, he was just here to meet you.”

“That depends on what you like Philippa. I can do anything,” Nathan proclaims, leaning back against his chair and crossing his arms.

“Nobody can do anything.”

“That was before you met me. Name it.”

“I’m gonna think of something super impossible.”

“I look forward to proving you wrong, Phil.”

Phil studies him for a moment, trying to decide if she’ll say what’s on her mind. “You’re cooler than anybody she’s ever dated.”

“Oh really?”

“Phil, please,” You plead, completely abandoning eating in turn for twirling your pasta anxiously.

Phillipa ignores completely ignores you, grinning at Nathan’s interest. “Yeah, the last guy she brought looked like Goofy and sounded like Mickey Mouse.”

“Mickey Mouse, huh? You into rats, sweetheart?”

“What about the lady with the curly hair? I liked her,” Emma says softly.

Nathan’s brows raise as he trains his gaze on you. “The lady?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers. Your sisters and Nathan grilling you— together. This was simultaneously the best and the worst idea. They had to meet of course, what with you being pretty sure you want to spend the rest of your life with Nathan. But did they have to gang up on you like a well choreographed dance? Especially on the first go of it.

“We were friends. How do you even remember her, Em, you were a toddler?” You look at her with eyes that say back off but she’s 7, in her own world, having a great time.

Nathan’s building her a babydoll for gods sakes.

Emma grins, “She always gave me candies.”

“Wait a fuc—“ He stops himself, mindful of your sisters, repeating with just as much shock as before, “a lady?”

“Friends,” You emphasis again.

“I literally caught you two kissing,” Phil says, rolling her eyes.

“Philippa—“

Nathan throws his head back, laughing loudly, “Not much of an explanation for that, is there honey?”

“It never went anywhere— not that I owe to any of you to explain,” You give all of them narrowed eyes, your face feeling hotter than the surface of the sun.

“They were all nice at least,” Philippa muses, twirling some pasta around her fork.

“Like I would bring home somebody that would be mean to either of you.”

“Phillipa says people say Nathan’s a jackass,” Emma announces before stuffing more garlic bread in her mouth.

You fix Phillipa with an icy look, and she quickly looks away, suddenly very interested in the basket of garlic bread in front of her. “When I told you to spend more time with your sister, that really did not include teaching her swear words.”

“I like swear words!” Emma protests.

Nathan leans in, smiling wide, eyes glittering mischievously, “Emma, so do I.”

You lean closer to Nathan, whispering, “Honey, you’re not helping.”

“Right. Lips zipping,” He whispers back, straightening up.

You turn back to your sisters. “Less swear words, more dinner. Or are you finished?”

“I’m finished. Can we have the brownies Phillipa made?”

“Of course, little one. Phillipa? Nathan?”

Phil just gives you a nod, while Nathan says, “All good, sweetheart.”

Dessert is much more mellow, and afterwards Nathan offers to do the dishes for you so that you can make sure your sisters get to bed alright. Once you’ve said goodnight to them, you return to your room. You find Nathan there, fingers tracing the trinkets and family heirlooms that sit on your desk.

You shut the door quietly behind you, “I told you they were…”

“Like you?” Nathan suggests, his mouth sitting in that smug grin.

You scoff. “Nosy. I’m not nosy.”

“You’re pretty fucking nosy.”

“Am not.”

“I didn’t say I disliked it about you honey, don’t get your panties in a twist,” He reaches for you, crowding you against the wall near your bed.

“My panties are untwisted, Nathan,” You say matter of factly, unimpressed with him.

He grins, pressing a kiss to your cheek, your jaw, your neck. “Can I take them off then?”

“My sisters are down the hall, so is my mom,” You whisper, a little breathless and Nathan takes note of that.

“I thought you liked covering my mouth?” He asks, pulling away from your neck to wag his eyebrows at you. You stare up at him, eyes alight, mouth flat. He wants to kiss you until his brain melts out of his ears but digresses. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bateman,” You say, your voice a little exasperated though there’s a smile pulling at your lips. You detangle yourself from him, starting towards the door. “I’ll get you some towels to shower and check on my mom.”

“You’ll let me know if she’s up for company?” Nathan watches you deflate, sorry that he even asked. But, he’s eager to meet the woman who raised you. He wants to ask questions and know more about the both of you.

“Yeah, I’ll let you know,” You murmur.

“If not, I’ll just write her a note. You know I’m good for it,” He murmurs, nodding head towards the note he’d written you that sits on your nightstand. “Come back here. Please.”

When you cross the room to him, he pulls in close, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss that makes you so dizzy you can’t remember that you were sad.

“What was that for?”

He raises a brow at you, “What, I can’t kiss my girlfriend whenever I want?”

“You and that word are really going strong?”

“You jealous?”

“Nathan, that would make a negative amount of sense, my love.”

He starts to kiss at your neck like before, using a little more teeth this time. “Oh that’s new. I like that. Say it again.”

“To the shower, Bateman.”

nathan taglist: @missdictatorme, @hon3yboy, @runa-falls, @campingwiththecharmings, @toracainz, @steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, @jdbxws, @crispysublimecupcake, @sub-aro, @faretheeoscar, @cupidysm, @whentheskyispinkandabitblue, @nova-ivy541, @sparkypantelones, @veritable-trash, @mangoslushcrush, @thhriller @tenderhornynihilist, @queerponcho, @redcake333

[noideasforausername]

two flowers.

description: the Evans' sisters relationship viewed through Petunia's lens. canon compliant for the most part.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: angst, angst and more angst. also not super proofread, I wrote this spontaneously on a random afternoon.

───────────

When Petunia was born, her mother pointed out her pink cheeks, deciding to name her after the pretty petunia bush that had been growing in their back garden. She was showered with love and adoration by her parents, both completely enamored by her every move.  

Just before her second birthday, her mother’s attention seemed to shift towards her belly. Petunia started noticing the small but substantial lack of displays of affection she would normally receive; so, she cried a bit harder and yelled a bit louder.  

On the 30th of January 1960, Petunia woke up in an unknown bed. She shivered, gripped the covers tighter and brought them up to her face - just like the princesses in her fairytale books would do. Her parents had left her with their next-door neighbour: Miss Gertrude. Miss Gertrude smelled like an old lady and kept an absurd number of cat pictures on display in every room. Miss Gertrude did not pay attention to her at all. Nor did she take notice of how hard she cried, or how loud she yelled. 

They nicknamed her Lilybud, because she was as innocent and pure as the flower her mother had planted right next to the petunia bush in their garden. Lily was born with bright green eyes and a fiery tuft of red hair – their mother’s hair. Lily did not need to cry or yell, because anyone who met her would become instantly enraptured by her striking features: her round, angelic face, adorned with carefully placed freckles. Where Lily was soft, Petunia was sharp.

Their mother would insist she didn’t have a favorite. Petunia couldn’t help but notice how during family dinners, everyone’s eyes seemed glued to Lily, how hard they’d laugh at Lily’s jokes, or how their eyes glossed over when they looked at her – like she was occupying the time they could’ve spent looking at Lily. 

When she was nine, Petunia stole her mother’s eyeliner and climbed into the sink to better look in the mirror. She tried to draw freckles on her face. Her father caught her and laughed. The freckles morphed into black tearstains on her small face. 

On her thirteenth birthday, Petunia had been called plain. She entered her school’s building with a smile on her face, wearing her best dress; she exited in tears, with Lily close behind her. That night she cried in Lily’s lap.  

On Lily’s following birthday – her eleventh birthday – their mother had insisted that her daughter stay home from school, because she deserved it. Petunia sat in her favorite armchair, the one in the corner of the living room, with a crooked party hat on her head. She was eating a ridiculously large slice of cake in silence when an unexpected knock sounded on the door. By the end of the night, miss Gertrude had called the police to complain about the noise coming from the Evans’ household.  

On the 1st of September 1971, Petunia watched her parents cry harder than ever before as her sister boarded the Hogwarts Express. 

Every summer since that day everybody witnessed Lilybud grow into a perfectly delicate Lily flower – similar to the one that had started overshadowing the withering petunia bush in the Evans’ garden. 

Lily was magical. Lily was special. Petunia was not. 

During her final year of high school, Petunia’s parents asked her to pick Lily up from the train station. Petunia arrived half an hour earlier. She spotted the familiar platform and stopped in her tracks. She flung herself into the nearest bathroom and cried for twenty-five minutes, before finally drying her eyes and stepping through the invisible platform to welcome her sister. 

“Pet!” Lily would yell when she saw her. Petunia wondered whether her sweet tone of voice was the only thing counteracting the venom of the word. 

Later that year, she met Vernon.  

Vernon who made her feel special from their very first meeting. Not because he’d done anything particularly extraordinary, but because he looked her way... and saw her - not Lily’s sister, just her. 

Vernon was a simple man. He was direct, and wanted a typical, ordinary life.  

Petunia was standing in their shared apartment when an owl flew through the open window and landed next to her. Reluctantly opening Lily’s letter, she was met by a moving picture of her and her friends - a ‘missing you’ sloppily written on the back. When Vernon glanced at the picture, he’d disdainfully rolled his eyes. Petunia knew he was the one then. 

When Petunia told her parents she was pregnant, they’d toasted the occasion, and she basked in their proud glares. That lasted about a month, until Lily sent word of her own pregnancy – for which their parents threw a big neighborhood party.  

When Dudley was born, Petunia gained a new purpose. She’d allowed Vernon to name him after his own grandfather, overlooking something so insignificant as the name of her child. Because he was her child. And she’d make sure he felt as special as he deserved to. Despite not being extraordinary. 

When Vernon had broached the subject of having another child, Petunia stopped talking to him for a week. She’d told him she’d rather have her tubes tied than risk the possibility of Dudley getting a sibling, and the subject was dropped. 

On Halloween Eve 1981, Petunia almost stepped on a child. She read the letter in its grip and leaned against the doorframe, not trusting her feet for support.  

Minutes later, after briefly informing a red-faced Vernon of this new household addition, she locked herself in her room, desperately digging through her closet. 

When the hard oak of the box grazed her fingertips, she pulled it out and struggled with the rusty lock. She crumbled to the ground and lay there silently sobbing, surrounded by the few objects Lily had magicked for her over the years – most of them lying there, now unmoving. 

After Lily’s funeral, Petunia went into the backyard of her childhood home, and kneeled next to the petunia bush that had withered due to a lack of sun and water. She unearthed the still-intact lily flower and travelled with it in her hands through the long bus commute. It was the first time she hadn’t minded people’s stares.

The flower still grows, to this day, at the base of Lily’s grave.  

Harry Potter grew up wondering why Petunia rarely looked him in the eye. Her eyes always seemed to fixate on his admittedly messy hair, just above his brows, often followed by a comment on how he ought to cut it. 

He’d once asked her why she kept looking over the fence at the neighboring houses and was met with a stern scoff. Harry had gone on to assume she was on the hunt for gossip. The truth was, she wanted to make sure the neighbors were keeping things orderly, or else she’d be ready to call the cops and complain of the excessive noise. 

When she last saw Harry, Petunia was standing in her empty living room. His footsteps echoed down the bare hallway and stopped right in front of her.  

Petunia finally looked at him. 

And after almost twenty years, she locked eyes with Lily.   

At long last, instead of the usual wave of envy, she felt a surge of pride overwhelm her.  

Harry had done what she couldn’t - he’d become extraordinary, despite being constantly outshined in their household. 

[dearestro]

hii, I'm sorry I wasn't very clear in my request, 😅 but I had in mind a story that would be similar to the one in the episode if possible. Anyway, sorry for my lack of precision

Thanks love!

Oh Baby!

Author's Note: Thanks for clarifying! This is incredibly long, so I'm going to post it in parts and it'll be finished as soon as possible! I'll link each part to each post. Sorry it's taken so long!

Warnings: Mentions of childbirth, innuendos, and crude language. Sorry if I missed anything!

Disclaimer: I know nothing about childbirth, healthcare, diseases, etc. I read a case file on the internet about the disease I wrote about. Almost everything I wrote I got from the internet, so I apologize if I messed up.

Summary: Having a baby is hard enough as it is, having a baby when your husband's best friend is House? Even harder. Unfortunately, things are just getting started, and the worst has yet to come.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Coming Soon...

Your Pov

"Push! Push!" James shouted over my screams of pain. His arms were wrapped around my upper body, trying to help me sit up more. 

"You say push one more time, and I'll push you!" I threatened. I had been in labor for hours. I was exhausted, sweaty, and damn sure I was never doing this again.

"Right! Sorry sweetheart." He kissed the crown of my head and tried to soothe me. 

"I see a head!" The doctor shouted. I nearly collapsed from exhaustion.

"You're almost there, baby." James wiped my hair out of my face and cooed. "Then we have a literal baby." He smiled, but I could see the tears in his eyes. I tried to smile back, but it was interrupted by another sob of pain. "Just keep pushing. You got this. You're so strong, and I'm so proud of you." He kissed my forehead again, and I was filled with a new sense of energy. Let's get this over with.

I kept pushing and pushing until I thought I might pass out. And with one final big push...the room filled with screaming and crying! I fell backward onto the bed after sitting up most of the time. It was done. James hugged and kissed me, whispering sweet nothings in my ear.

"It's a girl! Congratulations, Dr. and Mrs. Wilson." They handed her over to me so I could see. I smiled.

"She's perfect." I tried to hold back the cascade of tears but to no avail. James leaned in closer.

"Just like her mama." He kissed my temple. "My two beautiful girls." I laughed lightly. Finally, after all that work. It paid off! The nurse took her away to get cleaned up while the doctor finished everything that was happening down there. James and I just hugged each other. I swear I would've passed out had I not been so excited. 

We eventually got settled into a room, and I got cleaned up a bit. Our baby girl was resting in her crib. I was still on strict bed rest, so James had gone down to the cafeteria to get some better food. He insisted ‘his girls’ rest. I was lying in bed just watching her sleep peacefully when James came back.

“How are my girls?” He whispered so as not to wake the baby. I laughed lightly and motioned for him to come closer. He set down the food and moved the crib closer to the bed. I picked her up and cradled her closely while James sat behind me and looked over my shoulder. He held up a small stuffed bear so that she could see it.

“We’re ok. Aren’t we baby girl?” She yawned and attempted to stretch, although being swaddled hindered her movement. We had yet to figure out a name.

“You know we could just call her baby if we don’t find anything else.” I looked at James, his eyes fixed on our bundle of joy as he made the bear dance around her and caress her cheek. Clearly, he was too distracted to realize how awful an idea that was, but I just patted his cheek and remained silent. 

“She’s so perfect. I can’t think of a name that could do her justice.” I smiled at the small creature while James started to rub my back.

“I can.” I looked back to see his eyes sparkle and him smile at me. I raised a brow, silently asking what he had in mind. “Y/n.” I giggled and shook my head. Even when I had just been through what some might call a hellish experience, he could still make me feel special. 

“No way.” 

“Why not, I’m quite fond of the name.” He bit back a laugh.

“I’m quite attached to it as well, but there’s no way we’re naming our daughter after me!” I laughed back as he kissed my forehead. 

"Fine, we'll continue this discussion later. I brought you lunch." I smiled and gently put the baby back in her crib before resituating myself on the bed as James moved a table over and unpacked the food.

We sat on opposite ends of the bed eating and talking for a while. Just enjoying each other's company.

"You know I saw this thing. They recommend new dads take off their shirts-" James looked at me surprised, and I laughed. "Not like that, my love." He let out a small oh and motioned for me to continue as I giggled at his disappointment. "As I was saying. The new fathers take off their shirt and hold the baby so that they get that skin to skin contact that mothers naturally get. It helps them bond with the baby, supposedly. I know it seems a little silly but-"

"Yes!" I looked up, shocked at his outburst, and raised my eyebrow. "I mean, yes, as in, I'd love to do it." He quickly explained, his face a little flushed. I smiled and grabbed his hand.

"Great. I only brought it up because I thought you might like the sweet experience." 

"Yes, of course!" He then paused, and a look of worry came over him. "She’s not gonna mistake my nipple for one of...yours...is she?" I laughed at the imagery of the hypothetical and shook my head.

"No, I'm sure your nipples will be fine, babe. I'll make sure she's been fed beforehand." He blushed thinking about his silly worry but relaxed when I said that.

It was the beginning of day three (our last day) in the hospital, and baby girl Wilson had still not been named. I was relaxed in bed while James cradled our baby in the rocking chair. He was currently trying out the bonding exercise, and the baby seemed to be lulled to sleep by his heartbeat and humming. I know I said I would never do this again, but if this is the scene you're rewarded with? Maybe just one more time.

I continued to watch my little family rock back and forth, but the moment was soon interrupted when House came in.

"What the hell are you doing?" I rolled my eyes at his lack of pleasantries. James looked up a little shocked at the sudden noise, and frowned once he realized where or should I say who it came from.

"I'm spending time with my family. Something you might wanna try." He deadpanned, clearly already sick of his friend’s bullshit.

"Without a shirt? Look, I know you like to take on other people's 'burdens' because you have a savior complex, but it's pretty much physically impossible for you to breastfeed." He paused his rant. "Plus, it's weird. I mean, be a man! Am I right?" He looked to me as if he expected me to back him up, but I just gave him an unimpressed stare. James rolled his eyes.

"House, is there something you need? You know besides a better personality?" House turned to him and nodded.

"Yes." We waited for him to elaborate, but of course, he didn’t. 

"And am I supposed to read your mind?" James asked.

"No, but I was hoping you'd put a shirt on and follow me." James looked to me, and I nodded.

"You can go, babe. We'll be ok." He looked hesitant but eventually got up and handed the baby to me before buttoning up his shirt. 

"Ok, but if anything happens. And I mean anything. Call me, page me, tell a nurse, hell have Cuddy request me over the loud speaker-" I pushed my finger to his lips before he could worry anymore.

"I got this. Ok?" He nodded against my finger, and I smiled. "Good. Now have fun. I love you."

"I love you both, too." He leaned in to quickly kiss us both before being ushered out by an annoyed House. Once again, it was just me and the baby.

"And that, babygirl, would be your Uncle House." I sighed as I watched them walk down the hallway, James turning to look back at the room every so often. I smiled and looked down at our baby, caressing her little cheek with my finger. "Don't worry. He'll get used to you soon enough. And when that happens? I bet you two will be the best of friends." She yawned before nuzzling closer to me. What a wonderful life.

Wilson's Pov 

I didn't want to leave my girls, but knowing House, he wouldn't stop bothering us until he got what he wanted...so I followed him. We got to the end of the hallway and waited for the elevator.

“Where are we going? If you hadn’t noticed, I'm off duty!" I asked, getting more and more agitated. I want to be with my wife and our baby, but even then, House manages to pull me into one of his schemes.

“I’m saving you. You should be thanking me. I saw the look in that little monster’s eye. It was about to bite your nipple off.” He said as we entered the elevator while I scoffed and rolled my eyes at his comment.

“First off that ‘monster’ is my little girl. Secondly, she is not an ‘it’, and thirdly, we were bonding, something you might want to try with literally any living thing.” He only rolled his eyes. 

“Not likely.” 

“What are we even doing? Because if it’s not too much to ask, I’d like to spend time with my family.” The elevator doors opened, and he turned to me.

“Fine, spend all the time you want with the little rugrat. After we have lunch.” He exited the elevator and started the trek to the cafeteria. I hurried to catch up with…for a cripple he was remarkably fast.

“And when you say ‘have lunch’ you mean I buy your lunch and you condemn my life choices?” He stopped and turned to me once again, holding out his cane so the end was at my chest.

“Yes, but also because after the scene I just walked in on, you desperately need testosterone.” He mocked before continuing the walk to the cafeteria. I rolled my eyes, sighed, and looked at my watch. I suppose I could spare a few minutes…unfortunately.

[stomach-bugg09]

loved your recent with fali and y/n…maybe something where they get caught intensely kissing by jake and neytiri😫 i feel like y/n is very similar to neytiri so she likes to be sarcastic and teasing towards fali (lowk bullying him BUT IN AN ENDEARING WAY) :)) and he just soaks it up.

summary: jake a neytiri walk in on [y/n] and fali during a very intimate moment, and [y/n] doesn’t pass the opportunity up to tease fali.

a/n: AHH !! THIS WAS SO CUTE !! I WANNA CRY I LOVE THEM I LOVE THIS !! okay thank you so much for requesting this, you have fed the fluff and adorable necessity inside my soul. feedback + reblogs are always appreciated !!

tags: @pinkhotdogsfr @wxnderingthoughts @bonnibuckets @hjshshjkhklhkl @liyahsocorro

warnings: so cute, so very cute, neytiri and jake walking in on a makeout session, [y/n] feeling comfy enough to be a lil jokester, couple goals, family goals, just goals in general, adorable, crying because it’s cute, neytiri and jake joking about being “safe” iykwim, the cheesiest final sentence ever, i think that’s it tbh

red handed

things were moving fast. too fast. and yet, [y/n] couldn’t get enough. she couldn’t keep her hands off of him, and he couldn’t keep himself away from her. fali couldn’t even bring himself to take his eyes off of her. she was far too beautiful.

the sand was hot. as [y/n]’s lips roamed his body—his mouth, his neck, his chest—she could feel his cold hands holding onto her hips. fali’s grip was tight, unmoving. he couldn’t get enough of her.

fali was sat up against a rock, its jagged edges digging into his skin. it was worth it, though. on top of him sat [y/n], her legs straddling his lower body. as he held her in place, her soft hands cradled his head, pressing their faces together.

besides the sound of the ocean crashing against the other side of the rock they were hidden behind, all fali could hear was his heart beat. it took over his senses, kept his awareness heightened at every moment.

it’d just been moments before. moments before when the two walked the beach alongside the children, laughing as ao’nung challenged lo’ak to a race. neteyam balanced tuk on his shoulders, jumping into the waves as their laughter echoed for miles. tsireya and kiri watched lo’ak and ao’nung, their heads shaking in disappointment, but even they could not hide their laughter and amusement.

fali and [y/n]’d been holding hands as they strolled, feet sinking into the wet sand. [y/n] was running her thumb up and down along the backside of her lover’s hand, feeling his scars and scabs from the years of war and training. she couldn’t help but find them beautiful—marks that each had their own unique story.

as she felt over his skin, [y/n] couldn’t help but let her gaze travel. she looked up his arm, eyes scanning his muscular biceps, a smirk surfacing onto her lips as she thought about just hours before when those same arms held her throughout the night.

eventually, her stare reached his broad shoulders. they were built and extremely strong. she barely even thought before her free hand was reaching out, softly brushing overtop his skin, pointer tracing the marks that’d once been cuts. [y/n] barely even noticed as they slowed their walking to a stop.

silence consumed them as fali turned, staring at her gorgeous face as she was occupied with feeling every scar on his body. he inhaled sharply as she trailed up his neck, outlining his jawline.

a thumb gently brushed over the stripe of healed flesh that scarred the right side of her face. he closed his eyes, sinking into her hand’s warmth.

[y/n] didn’t dare move her palm from where it carefully braced his head, but she let her thumb travel the slightest bit, stroking the dip between his nose and cheek. when he opened his eyes again, a soft smile graced her lips.

[y/n] let herself untangle her other hand’s fingers from the grasp of fali, bringing it upwards and towards his face, mirroring the same actions just on the opposite cheek.

fali stood, staring at her with eyes that held absolute awe and wonder for how he was able to win enough of eywa’s favor to bless him with her. it was when her leaned in to kiss her that the yearning—the necessity to touch her, to kiss her—began.

she held his face, he held her hips. their lips were fit to perfection, as if they were made to be together. and they most definitely were. when fali’s hand began to trail up her back… well, [y/n] broke the kiss, dragging him behind her as they resumed behind the rock.

and now, they sat there breathlessly in love. and she would not have it any other way. plus, it kept the kids from witnessing it. ( but, come on, let’s be real—tsireya and kiri definitely watched the entire thing unfold and as soon as they disappeared, they ran to tell everyone. )

the couple was so wrapped up in their adoration, their love, for each other, [y/n] thought to herself, nothing could ruin this. apparently, eywa took this as a challenge.

because, just as [y/n] broke the kiss with a smile, attempting to catch her breath, her ears flicked at the sound of a familiar, “tsk tsk.” fali’s mortified eyes immediately sent her turning around. the two figures that stood behind them made her heart drop.

“mom.” her voice was quiet, a hiss evident in her voice as she cringed at the situation. “dad.” that one sent fali over the edge of embarrassment. not only were they caught kissing very intimately, but they were caught by his girlfriend’s parents. could it get any worse? ( yes. )

“good evening, child.” at her mother’s smirk, [y/n] shook her head and turned back to look at fali. with a huff of air, she pushed herself up, standing up from where she previously sat on top of him. oh, eywa.

jake cleared his throat, fighting the teasing smile on his face. a few months ago, yeah, he would have been pissed. but, after countless events in which fali had not only saved the lives of his children, but also kept his oldest daughter happy, he didn’t mind the two. in fact, he completely encouraged the relationship. it was… cute. “looks like you two had fun.”

“please leave.” [y/n] held her face in her hands, now sat down with her legs crossed right next to fali. he remained silent, unable to speak as his face was far too indigo and heart far too fast.

neytiri laughed at her daughter, a joyful smile taking control of her features. she, like jake, was a full supporter of [y/n] and fali. not only was he kind, respectful, but he was an amplifier of her daughter’s abilities. neytiri’s favorite version of [y/n] was the version where she was not only happy, but strong. a strong woman meant strong babies, and strong babies meant a strong future.

“you aren’t doing anything… unsafe, are you?”

“mom!” [y/n] groaned, dropping her chin to her chest in embarrassment. a few beats of silence and then, “we would never do it on the beach.”

fali’s eyes widened at that as both parents barked laughter. their faces were full of shock—never had their daughter so much… character! it was now fali’s turn to cover his face with his hands, but no amount of coverage could hide the blush the crept down his neck.

“but,” [y/n] sighed, smiling at fali’s embarrassment ( mission accomplished ). “if you must know, we were merely kissing—”

“that’s more than just kissing,” her father pointed out. fali wanted to dig a hole in the sand to die in.

[y/n] waved her hand in dismissal. “more than just kissing, not enough to be considered anything else.” she smacked fali with her tail. “wouldn’t you say?”

“i hate you.”

the trio of sullys burst into laughter. “oh, you are too sensitive, fali. if you can’t handle the idea of our intimacy being public, how ever will we announce the day in which we are officially mated?”

“oh my eywa,” fali groaned, amusement and distress evident in his eyes once he finally uncovered them. “i am leaving.”

just as he attempted to stand up, [y/n] whined. “no! do not leave.” he jokingly huffed as he sat back down on the sand. “now you two,” she said, turning back to her parents. “you two are more than dismissed. you ruined a perfectly fine kiss.”

neytiri gave her a look. “kiss?”

“—ing session. kissing session. is that better?”

the sully parents only laughed, turning around to walk away. but, just before they could get too far, neytiri turned back around and loudly whispered, “stay safe. i do not need a grandchild.”

“goodbye, mother!”

as her parents walked away in the distance, [y/n] settled a smile on her face. she turned to fali, her hand grabbing his ear teasingly.

“hey!” he defied, exasperated with her antics. “what is with you today? you are… you are like a child!” fali could not wipe the amused smile off of his lips.

[y/n]’s jaw dropped in mock offense. “i am the child? you are funny for that, fali.” she let go of his ear, but not before smacking him on the head. “you are the one who is scared of my parents.”

“your dad could have beat me up.”

“see, that is a childish fear.”

he laughed, grabbing the girl right above the hips, fingers digging into her ticklish spots. she burst into laughter as they rolled around on the sand.

“you are the child!” they alternated the declaration, words loud but laughter even louder. but, perhaps the loudest of it all was the love they had for each other.

[cursedcupcakemaster]

This is a small series I made for nothing but enjoyment

Notes:I don't own twisted wonderland or it's characters

this is just my interpretation of how they'd be they belong to Yana Toboso and Disney Reader is gender neutral, some of these are kind of short

type; Blackberry cupcakes

How Diasomnia comforts you after a bad day

Malleus

He'd know something was up once you didn't show up for at least 3 of your usual nighttime meet ups

Malleus would go looking for you, just a trifle upset until he heard a sound coming from your room

You were sobbing your heart out

There was piles of assignments on your desk, and he remembered you've been running quite a few errands for the headmaster

If there was one thing Malleus couldn't stand it was seeing his beloved cry

Malleus knew something had to be done and the next night his plan would be put into action

Sebek had given you a message from Malleus to meet in your usual spot

When you were walking along the way you heard a beautiful sound of a cello being played and followed it until you found malleus

He smiled at you continuing his performance and you could swear you've never seen something more ethereal than this

Once it was finished he looked up at you and explained he merely wanted to cheer you up

He soon led you away to the diasomnia dorm to enjoy an ice cream together

Malleus knows you will have more bad days than this but he'll be ready to make it better

Lilia

Lilia knew immediately from your expresion in class

Lilia has been around the block quite a few times including seeing people with a rather concerning bit of sadness

The Bat fae knows he needs to bring you out of your sour mood and he knows just how

Lilia would first shock you by appearing in front of you saying boo whilst upside down

Lilia would tell you some dumb jokes to make you laugh

After maybe the third or fourth one you really can't not laugh

Lilia would likely take you on a little midnight flight with his familiars and afterwards help you back to your room happy to see you in a less sour mood

Lilia treasures your feelings even if he doesn't know how long you'll stay together

Sebek

Okay so he didn't know at first because he was preoccupied with tending to his duties

When Sebek finally had a moment his phone had been flooded with texts from you and each one was more and more distressed

Sebek went looking for you and fast when he got to your dorm, your roommates gave him a sour look but let him pass

He felt guilty hearing your sobs and knocked , you let him in before hugging him tightly

According to your texts your week was getting worse each day, more school work another overblot and on top of that Sebek hadn't been there

He rubbed your back and proposed that perhaps you needed a cup of tea to soothe your nerves, so you agreed

Sebek took great care into making you some herbal tea that would at least give you back some of your energy and some snacks

Sebek promised after that he would try to make more time so you wouldn't have a similar situation so soon he doesn't like his partner being in such dire strain

Silver

Silver would have likely been told by Lilia about your misfortune you'd been dealing with for days

Silver felt quite bad since he hadn't been able to help you

But now now you had his full attention so he went looking for you

He found you eating lunch by yourself before he sat beside you

Silver told you,you could tell him everything that was wrong if that might make you feel better

So he listened to you talk about everything that had been messing with your life including being way too busy to even sleep much

Silver would bring you around to the school stables helping you onto the horse for a nice ride around the place

Afterwards Lilia would go looking for you and Silver after it had been a couple hours only to find the sweetest sight you two were napping together chuckling the elderly fae took a picture before leaving you two to rest

[glamoureddreamer]

Idea 3

Cross, Dream and Nightmare, hurt/comfort

I’m not really sure these are ideas anymore lmao, regardless enjoy :)

Cross sat alone at a bar, one he had completely forgotten the name of. His vision was doubled and if he moved at all it felt like he could barely see. Cross was sure he was swaying in his chair but he didn’t care. The drinks were making him feel nice, that was the goal.

Unknowingly to him, practically no one was at the bar anymore. Even the most heavy of drinkers knew they should get home at a reasonable hour. He didn’t have anywhere else to go.

Two figures walk into the bar, both looking so similar yet so different. They stand for a second looking around before they spot Cross at the bar. One of them smiles the other sighs.

“Glad we could finally find you.” A monotone voice says startling Cross from his blank stare at the bar counter. He looks up at the voice and recognizes his boss immediately, along with his brother.

“Nightmare! Dream!” He cheers with a slight hiccup.

“Man, am I glad to see you guys!” Dream smiles taking a seat at the bar. Nightmare follows suit, sitting on the other side of Cross however he does not look so happy.

“Yes. I’m sure you are-“

“Brother..be nice.” Dream interrupts him, he leans forward and grabs Cross’s hand cupping it in his own.

“Cross, are you aware of the time?” Cross stares at Dream for a moment before he looks around to find a clock. Once he finds one he looks back at Dream with a nod.

“Okay? And what didn’t think to tell anyone you’d be out this late? Didn’t think to come home?” Nightmare snaps crossing his arms. Dream pulls his hand back from Cross. Cross chuckles however even when drunk it sounded forced.

“Didn’t think anyone cared.” He picks up his shot and downs it before setting it on the table.

“What the hell are you talking about? The only reason why we are here is because we care.” Nightmare nearly growls.

“Well, you shouldn’t.” Cross forces out a laugh. He feels like if he didn’t laugh or smile he would be crying and they shouldn’t have to deal with that.

“Cross?” Dream asks sensing his pain.

“I’m a terrible person. All I do is fuck up. Make my problems everyone else’s cause I’m pathetic.. no one should love me.” They nearly get whiplash from his response, Cross was never direct about anything let alone his emotions.

“Cross…”

“I’m not stupid you know.. I see what you and the others are trying to do. Get me to join the poly but I don’t belong.. I’ll fuck up like I always do and ruin everything. You should love someone else.”

Both Dream and Nightmare take a moment to think about how to approach this. Dream is the first to speak up.

“Cross none of us think that, any of that. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit or kindness.”

“Frankly you’re just incorrect. You never fuck up missions- in fact, you seem to do so well it fixes all the fucking up Killer does. You never come to us about your issues so you have never once made your issues ours.” Cross chuckles a little.

“And you don’t belong with us? That’s because no one belongs in this group. A guardian of negativity, a guardian of positivity, a murderer with no soul, an insane brother killer, a starved beast, the only thing that ties us together is our pain.”

“And our love for each other.” Dream adds. Cross had tears dripping down his face, he covered his mouth trying not to let the sobs escape. Dream notices however and hugs him tightly.

“It’s okay to cry, no one here will hurt you for that.” Dream whispers to him.

After Cross’s drunk emotions stopped he took a deep breath and turned to Nightmare.

“Can we go home?” Nightmare gives him a small smile, chucking warmly.

“Of course Cross, let’s get you home.”

[silent-stories]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐇𝐔𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐓𝐋 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐

Summary: When Y/N needs help on a hunt, she doesn't expect Bobby to send Dean Winchester to her. Now the two must work together to solve the case and Dean has to deal with Y/N's sarcastic and biting personality, that maybe he likes a little too much.

Pairing: Dean × F!Reader

Warnings: nightmares, swearing, cheating

Word count: 2283

Series

A house on fire, screams, his father, a crying child, creatures hidden in the shadows.

"Dean?"

Dean opened his eyes, and could see with relief that he had only had a damn nightmare.

Y/N seemed to be awake for hours and was standing in front of the bed.

"Hey. Are you okay?" She asked.

The man rubbed his face, holding back a huge yawn. He noticed with surprise that it was already morning from the rays of the sun that filtered through the window into the motel room, yet the time he rested had seemed so short.

"Mh, yeah, I'm fine. What time is it?" he asked hoarsely, his brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed, confused by sleep.

"It's almost seven a.m," Y/N replied, giving him one last look as if to make sure he was really fine, then shaking her head and going back to what she was doing, getting ready to leave. She was wearing some kind of secretary's suit and Dean couldn't help but think that it fit her very well.

He found himself observing the way her clothes enhanced her body in all the right places.

"Well, that sure doesn't help," he muttered to himself, alluding to something that usually happened to all men early in the morning.

"What?"

"Nothing," he murmured, waving a hand dismissively. "Forget it."

He sat up and sighed. Y/N repeatedly told him to hurry up, that whatever they were hunting would attack again. Dean, after getting ready like her, dressed in a suit and tie, reminded her that without having breakfast he would not go anywhere.

So, after three pancakes and a slice of pie, the hunter got behind the wheel and Y/N got into the passenger seat.

"Recap: I'm Agent Hetfield, FBI. You're my lovely colleague. We're here because we find there are similarities to some of our old cold cases. Okay?"

"It's not the first time I've pretended to be an FBI agent, Dean" she replied "And I can even pick better fake names than yours. James Hetfield? Seriously? Just hope that woman isn't a Metallica fan." She laughed reaching out her hand to remove his badge from his jacket and check with her own eyes that that was the right name. Dean let her do it, not giving her the slack she wanted.

"Fix your tie," she murmured waiting for someone to open the door.

"Okay, mom," muttered Dean in a childish way but following her advice that seemed more a threat.

When an elegant woman appeared before their eyes, dressed in black and with a handkerchief in her hand, they understood that they were facing the widow Dubois, wife of the first victim.

Before Dean could pull his badge out of his pocket, taken away from Y/N's hands only at the end of the car ride, the girl anticipated him.

"Hello Mrs. Dubois, I'm Agent Cobain and this is Agent Hetfield," she indicated him with a quick serious and professional glance.

Dean nearly rolled his eyes, so he couldn't pick the Metallica singer's name but she could use that surname surely borrowed from the Nirvana singer.

"We'd like to ask you a few questions about your husband."

The woman, at first seemed reluctant to let them in but then she made them sit inside her immense residence.

The house very large and obviously belonged to someone very rich.

Bernard Dubois was a financier, the woman explained.

"In the financial field, it's impossible not to have enemies," said Fleur, also of French origins like her husband, between sobs. "The police said it was a wild animal."

A wild animal? In their house??

"We have to consider all possibilities," Dean informed her cordially. Routine sentence of a hunter that everyone believed.

"Do you know if your husband knew this man?" Y/N asked, showing her the photo of the second victim who died under the same circumstances.

"Of course. He was my beloved Bernard's business partner. The manager."

Bingo!, Y/N thought immediately, exchanging a knowing look with Dean, sitting next to him.

So as Dean imagined the two victims had known each other and also for quite some time.

"They were working on the Lake Eire project," explained the woman, her nose red and her eyes tired.

Dean and Y/N raised their eyebrows in the exact same confused expression.

"They're building a dam," she added, when she noticed their questioning faces.

"Oh," they said in unison.

There was a silent pause during which Y/N ​​and Dean looked at each other, accomplices. Both were thinking the same thing: it was a matter of revenge, and since the victims were business partners and therefore knew each other, there was a sure connection to that lake.

"Your husband was found here, right?" Dean asked.

"Yes" the woman nodded and began to sob again.

Dean and Y/N felt sudden discomfort, both of them looking in opposite directions, not knowing what to say. "He was in our bedroom...how a-am I going to live without him?!"

Dean cleared his throat and asked Mrs. Dubois where the bathroom was. He followed the staircase, as suggested, but instead of reaching the last door on the left, he sneaked into the woman's bedroom, where the victim had been found. He pulled out the electro magnetic frequency detector, hopeful. But it didn't light up, nor did it make that weird, usual sound.

So he put aside the revenge-seeking ghost theory.

He sighed deeply and shook his head slightly then noticed something on the floor, it looked like a leaf or something. Dean frowned and picked it up. It was a seaweed... what was a seaweed doing in Bernard Dubois' bedroom?

So the targets all had something to do with that project. Y/N really hoped that that was the right lead because, frankly, she didn't see any other way to solve that fucking case.

As soon as she saw Dean get up from the couch, she knew his intentions. He would check upstairs while she continued to question the woman, even though she didn't seem to know much about business, at least not as much as her husband.

"Has this project been going on for a long time?" She could hardly ask her: the widow kept sobbing and sniffing.

The woman shook her head but not to convey her ignorance about it: it was a no.

"We came back from Paris specifically for this job. We've been here for a week... and now my beloved Bernard is dead!" And she started crying again.

"Excuse me, but these days have not been easy..."

"I can imagine that," Y/N nodded.

"I've seen him so seldom. Since the works began he was always on site: he monitored progress to calculate an approximate deadline." The woman said blowing her nose.

"So the dam is already under construction?"

"Agent Cobain, it will be better to go back to the police station" Dean's voice announced as he returned to the room: he had found something.

"Look at this!" Dean said handing her a plastic bag, back in the Impala.

"What the hell is that?" she asked looking at it.

"What does it look like to you?"

“Okay, let me ask you in another simpler way: what do you think a seaweed was doing in that guy's bedroom?”

He shrugged. "We need to check that dam."

It was quite obvious at that point that the answers to their questions were in that project. Whatever was affecting the victims was in that lake and had left them a souvenir before leaving.

"I bet that crap was also in the second victim's room," Dean said with conviction.

He drove until he reached Lake Eiere, where the dam seemed to be already under construction. There were a couple of workers here and there in orange hats setting up a surveillance system. A man dressed in black, in a suit and tie, observed the area with a dull gaze. Another, a little taller, clapped him on the shoulder in consoling pats.

Dean and Y/N glanced at each other and, as if reading each other's minds, decided that those two were the right ones.

"Hi," Dean said, showing them his FBI badge. "Agent Hetfield, and this is my partner, Agent Cobain."

“We're investigating the deaths of Bernard Dubois and Mark Stern,” he added professionally.

"Weren't they attacked by a…?" stammered one of them, the shortest, in confusion.

"No," Dean replied dryly. "They were killed."

The two looked frightened, as if they were aware of the danger they were all in, because they were the other two business partners.

"You are?" Y/N asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Michael Connors and Peter Johnson," answered the taller man, considerably less traumatized than his colleague. “Bernard and Mark worked with us on this project.”

Dean and Y/N exchanged a quick glance, aware that those two would be the next victims.

After the usual routine questions, they didn't come up with anything new: no enemies in particular (not to want them dead, at least), no suspicious behavior from builders, engineers or anyone working on that project.

"We have to follow them," said Y/N as they walked away, raising her head to the sky, noticing that the sun was already setting over the construction site. And from what they understood that thing that was attacking business partners especially loved the dark. "We'd better keep an eye on them, after all that thing probably lived in the lake and could attack them even now." Y/N said next to Dean once they got back into the Impala.

They walked around the block to make the two think they were gone but after a few minutes they were hiding in the small place around the lake, an ideal location for a stakeout.

"So we are going to follow them, probably spend a sleepless night and wait for a monster to attack them. And we don't even know what it is or how to kill it?" She heard Dean complain. "Right, that's so clever!"

“But it's the only thing we can do. We don't have time to go back to the motel and do more research, we risk losing another fucking partner!"

"We don't even have anything to eat!" Added Dean dramatically, Y/N rolled her eyes even though, thinking about it, it wasn't a good plan at all.

"And which of the two are we gonna follow?" He asked indicating Michael and Peter with a nod of his head. "As lucky as we are, we'll end up following the man dropped from that bastard's menu."

"I don't think it will be a problem," she murmured with a frown, following the shadows of the two men moving towards the same car. "Company car?"

"I don't know, but we'd better keep up with them."

The two partners got into the dark and shiny car, then they left and Dean did the same, following them staying a bit far away, without attracting attention. The journey was very silent, neither of them spoke, maybe because they were too tired even to fight, even though that was their favorite hobby when they were together.

"Look" Y/N said after a while, nodding towards the car in front of them.

It had just turned right, entered an alley that led to the garage of a small house. Dean watched the scene frowning, then exchanged a look with his colleague. He pulled up across the street and they both stopped to look at the two guys. They looked like they were hiding something, and they moved stealthily, as if they were afraid of being discovered. Were they going to do something illegal or something?

It was clearer when, after the two men had entered the house, one of the ground floor windows lit up and they saw the two guys right there, looking into each other's eyes. The taller man slowly approached the other and then pulled him to him to kiss him on the lips.

Dean's eyes widened.

"Well, they say never reveal your next move, right?" The girl sitting next to him laughed.

"Y/N, c'mon! Those two are married and have kids."

"Do you think I've never seen worse?" she asked raising an eyebrow.

Dean rolled his eyes. “D-do you think… we should go in there?”

"What is it, you wanna join them?" She laughed and Dean just snorted.

Night continued to fall, dark, making that scene more intimate for the two in the house and more complicated for the hunters in the car who, unlike the first ones, were certainly not having a good time.

"How do we kill it?"

"I like to improvise," Y/N said, brushing her hair back with a lazy wave of her hand: just another way of saying she didn't have the faintest idea.

"Very enlightening, thank you," Dean said sarcastically, shaking his head.

He noticed with relief the two had disappeared from in front of that window. They had probably moved upstairs to the bedroom. He glanced at his watch: midnight.

"Well, at least they'll die happy and fulfilled," he joked, with a smirk that faded as Y/N glared at him. "I'm just trying to look on the bright side."

Several hours passed and when Dean checked his watch again, it said two in the morning. He was desperately trying to keep his eyes wide open, but his lids were closing on their own from exhaustion. Y/N, on the other hand, seemed attentive, staring at the house as if she expected to see something at any moment.

"Dean?"

"I'm awake!" he exclaimed suddenly. He was not always a good liar.

He had dozed off despite his best efforts, but he opened his eyes and rubbed his face, stifling a yawn.

"What's up?"

"The thing. It's here."

Tags: @eevvvaa @spn730015 @supernatural111222 @youcancallmelily @clairenovakanddeanwinchester @dads-on-a-hunting-trip @3amstillawake @supernaturalmess @marvelandsupernatural @agirlwatchingalotoftvshows @candy-coated-misery0731 @impalaslytherin @rudy-the-winged-wolf @dean-winchester-6767 @samanddeansannoyingsis @roseblue373 @waynes-multiverse @random-spn-fan

Series: @stitchintimefan

[paulyenvol6]

Sweet Creature (Chapter 3)

Contains: Only fluff

It's a kind of short chapter but the next one will be smutty....

Masterlist of this story

Harry’s pov

He smirked while leading Eunice towards the middle of the hall. He had obviously noticed how nervous the girl was and couldn’t help but find it cute. He knew that he had an affect on women but he had never experienced something like this.

He only had to smile once and Eunice couldn’t build up one sentence. Obviously he wasn’t unaffected either. The girl was incredibly beautiful with her full lips and long hair, which was blond with a slight red tinge. He could only imagine how stunning her long legs must look like and what it must feel like to kiss her skin.

They were in the middle of the hall now and they tangled their hands, while he put his hand on her waist. They started to move to the music and Harry smiled at her. Eunice blushed and slightly looked down.

Harry laughed inside when he noticed it. It was similar to how he had saw her earlier staring at him and how she had quickly looked away when he looked back. ‚Cute.‘, he thought. Harry could sense that she was still very nervous so he slightly caressed her waist with his thumb. The touch made Eunice immediately look up to him and he asked: „Are you alright?“

The girl quickly nodded with wide eyes and Harry nodded. They danced for a while and then after the ballad was over, Harry bowed in front of her and kissed the back of her hand once again. „Thank you very much, Lady Eunice. I hope to see you again later.“ Then he turned around and walked away. Eunice’s pov

Eunice stood there in the middle of the hall and couldn’t move. She couldn’t understand her feeling this moment, it was something she had never felt before.

Then she finally realized that she was still standing there, alone and probably with a stunned look on her face and turned around to walk to the door that led her to a terrace. She greedily breathed in the air and felt her pulse finally calm down.

She walked in small circles and tried to control her breathing. When she felt like she was calm again to some extent, Eunice entered the building again and searched for members of her family. She needed some distraction now. It was two hours later now and the feast now took place in the park nearby. It was very spacious with a lot of trees and bushes.

People ate at long tables and laughed together under the summer sky. There was another dance floor in the middle and an orchestra that played beautiful tunes. Those, who were already finished with eating sat at the tables talking to people, danced or stood under the trees.

Eunice sat with her family and laughed loudly about their jokes. It was a relaxed atmosphere. When they were all finished with their meals, her siblings and cousins got up and walked around and played a bit aside of the feast.

„Can we play ‚I spy with my little eye‘?“, she heard Clara say loudly and the others approved. In the meantime Eunice had very good conversations with her relatives and friends of the family when she suddenly saw in the corner of her eye her brother Stanley falling to the ground and starting crying. He had fallen over a root and held his ankle. „Owww.“, he cried and Eunice, who felt responsible ran over to him.

„Stanley. Oh no, no, no. Let me see.“ But the boy was too hysteric and Eunice decided to help him get to their parents. As she was the oldest, she helped him get up and supported him while he limped on one foot. „Is it very bad, Eunice?“, her sister asked and Eunice petted her hair.

„He is going to be okay. You can continue playing, I’ll bring him to mother and father.“ She walked to the table where her parents sat and they took him in their arms. Knowing, that he was in good hands, she walked away and headed to her table again when suddenly she saw Sir Styles in her field of vision.

Her heart started beating faster again and her eyes widened. He seemed to just notice her as well. „Oh, hello again, Lady Eunice.“ „Good evening, Sir.“, she said quietly and Harry noticed how she didn’t look at him again. „I was wondering, if you wanted to walk with me for a bit.“, Harry said and Eunice finally looked at him.

„Oh. Yes, of course. With delight.“, she stuttered and took his arms that he had offered her. They started walking away from the feast and the music got more quiet. „What a beautiful night.“, Harry said and looked up to the sky.

„Yes, it is. I like summer nights, when it is not that hot anymore but you can still smell and feel the summer heat.“, Eunice smiled and asked herself if what she had just said was complete nonsense.

„Yes, it is in the air.“, Harry answered. „What is your favourite time of year, Milady?“ „I think spring or late summer. I love what the world looks like when the first flowers start to bloom. And the smell.“, she smiled. Harry chuckled quietly and Eunice felt something in her belly at the sound that she had never felt before.

„So the scent of things is the most important for you. The smell of summer air, fresh flowers.“ Eunice smiled as well and looked to the left of her.

„What is this?“, she asked suprised. „That’s a pavilion. It is a cottage of a family in London.“ „How come I have never seen this?“, Eunice asked in disbelief. „I don’t know. Maybe you never came this far in the park.“

„Maybe.“, mumbled. „Do you want to see it from inside?“, Harry suddenly and Eunice looked at him. „W – why, I mean, do you, why do you have the key?“, she stuttered and was so angry at herself that she still was so nervous around him.

„Well, the cottage belongs to my family.“, Harry laughed and Eunice looked at him with widened eyes. „What?“ „Yes, it is my family’s. We don’t go that often anymore but I still have the key, so if you want…“ „Y – yes, I mean I think I would like to.“, Eunice nervously chuckled and they made their way over to the beautiful old Pavilion.

[jaehunnyy]

Memento mori

Synopsis: A painful memory in which Seonghwa remembers the origin of his pink hair.

Genre: soulmate!au, severe angst

Word count: 1k

Pairing: soulmate!Seonghwa x gn!reader (feat. Yuta and Irene)

Warnings: main character death, lots of crying, mentions of a funeral, time skip, possible grammar mistakes, please lemme know if i missed anything

In a world where soulmates were a thing, Park Seonghwa didn't expect he would meet his like that.

Truth be told, he was kinda annoyed by how fast his soon-to-be partner changed hair colors—and the fact that their soulmate mark consisted in having a part of your hair in the color the other dyed theirs didn't help much. So this pushed him to make an appointment to the nearest hair salon in his neighborhood and dye his hair to make it even, again.

He got inside the building, barely noticing the other customer who sat on the chair next to the one he would occupy for the next few hours. It looked like they were also going for a big change, but Seonghwa was too excited to pay more attention to this, already explaining what he wanted to the hairstylist, who also happened to be one of his friends. He was lazily reading a magazine, while Yuta has already started bleaching his hair. The only thing that could be heard was the soft chatter of the two boys, and the occasional sounds of the utensils his friend was using; Seonghwa felt relaxed for the first time in a while.

"I can see they are still giving you trouble with the colors, but at least you pull them off." the eldest laughed, making Seonghwa roll his eyes.

"Just do your job, or I won't give you money."

Yuta pretended to be offended, he loved teasing the younger boy.

"I am literally trying, but the pink strand in your hair makes it a bit hard for me, you know?"

Seonghwa frowned as he heard the word pink. His hair was black when he arrived there, with no sign of strange, unmatchy colors.

"You have to be joking with me. There was nothing wrong with my hair."

"Then maybe you should lift your head and look in the mirror yourself."

The boy let out a silent sigh, before looking in the mirror and seeing it with his own eyes. One of the hair strands that was covering his forehead was indeed pink. Suddenly, a similar struggle caught their attention.

"I swear I applied the pink dye everywhere, Y/N. You've seen it too, and you can see well that it turned blonde now." Irene, the other hairstylist whined.

The males turned in the direction of the voices, only to realize that the person standing next to Seonghwa had the same problem. Yuta took Irene aside, smiling to her as he whispered a simple "I think we're facing a pair of soulmates here." making the girl giggle as well. Seonghwa dared to finally glance at the stranger next to him, noticing the little flaw in their hair. His lips curled into a little smile, not knowing exactly where to start from.

"Excuse me, what was your hair color before the pink?" he asked, voice a bit trembling from the emotions.

"Black." they admitted, scanning the boy in front of them.

It all made sense now. A weird way to meet his soulmate, but definitely a special one.

"I think, actually, I am pretty sure that we are soulmates," he smiled cutely, before he stuck his hand out to the beautiful person in front of him.

"I'm Seonghwa," he smiled.

They shook his hand, giving him a shy smile.

"I'm Y/N, and I would love to know more about you."

Even though things were a bit awkward at first, they agreed to start out as friends and get to know each other better, until they felt comfortable enough to make it official. Finally, the day they would meet as official lovers came, even though it felt like a lifetime for Seonghwa—though not in the circumstances he wanted it to be. He would have never expected to be at his lover's funeral that day, trying hard to stay strong for their mother, in order to comfort her.

"You're such an angel, Hwa. They would have loved to have you by their side." their mom stated between sobs, her arms tightening around Seonghwa's neck while her forehead rested on his shoulder.

This was the last straw for the boy. He started crying his eyes out, his pearly tears landing on his dark suit.

"I wish I had met them earlier…" he whispered, petting the elder woman's hair to calm her down.

"I hope you will have a happy ending in another life, honey." she gave him a sad smile before kissing his forehead, preparing to leave and give him a moment alone.

"I hope your mother is right, Y/N." he forced a smile, then wiped his tears and set the big bouquet of roses on the grave.

Deep down, he knew that this was a scar he could never cover, no matter how hard he tried. No stitches could ever repair his broken heart, but he had to be strong and live a nice life for both. He touched the pink strand of hair he never got rid of, feeling the tears forming in the corner of his eyes again.

A few weeks passed. He faced the mirror, looking at the unrecognizable person reflected by it. He really needed to get something done, so he decided to call Yuta, politely asking him to come over since he couldn't find the strength to return back to the place where it all started. He decided that a part of him will always belong to his soulmate, the lover he didn't get to cherish. That's when Seonghwa dyed his whole hair pink—a color of healing, but also one that will always remind him of the someone loving him, as much as he planned on doing while they were by his side.

[o-kaythislooksbad]

ailesswhumptober day 5: overstimulation / migraines / "i can't take this anymore"

chapter 5 / 7 of the memory of you marks everything i do | not rated, chose not to warn

marc stares at the bathtub, making no move towards it. downstairs, people are yelling, arguing about anything and everything related to roro's burial and shiva. his body didn't even go to the hospital; marc had pulled him out of the cave and screamed his little lungs out until their dad came running. by the time an ambulance was called, there was nothing the medics could to do help. they zipped roro up into a large plastic sleeping bag in the backyard and put a thick blanket around marc's shoulders, and that was it. 

someone from the shul showed up to sit with roro's body, saying something about it being her job to stay until the rabbi could arrive. she offered marc a hug and a lollipop, like she's done this a bunch of times before, and marc nodded and said 'yes, please,' because imma pushed him away and abba was too busy trying to calm her down and everybody forgot about marc.

the nice lady didn't mind that marc's clothes were still wet. she didn't mind that he was crying, even though he's a big kid and he's not the one who got hurt and it's his fault roro's gone. she excused herself to wait somewhere else, in her car, probably, when the rabbi arrived to sort out the details of where roro's gonna go to get cleaned up before they can bury him.

and now marc's still wet and crying, sat on the muddy lawn and the sun's shining like the sky never rained. imma and abba are fighting in front of the neighbors and the new rabbi; marc doesn't remember his name or what the older rabbi's name was, but that doesn't matter. his voice pipes up whenever abba or imma stop to take a breath, reminding them that randall led a great life and wouldn't want his parents to fight over him. for once, abba agrees with imma in saying 'no,' but imma's on her own when she says it wasn't an accident. 

"he did this on purpose and you know it!"

"darling, please. we're all hurting, but let's not say things we'll regret."

imma laughs, but it's not her regular laugh, light and bubbly and comforting. "seriously, elias? you think i'll regret being honest with you?"

the rabbi clears his throat awkwardly, tilting his head towards marc. abba starts to walk towards him, but then imma pulls his arm back because "don't you dare walk away from me" and "we've got actual problems to focus on" and marc wishes the nice lady would come back to give him another hug.

they're fighting about who should be allowed in the shiva house, wherever that is - marc's still not sure what shiva is, exactly - and abba says he would welcome roro's friends from the neighborhood and hebrew school.

imma doesn't want any kids in the house or around her.

including marc.

and now they've sent him inside to bathe - "it doesn't matter if you shower or take a bath, you need to clean up! make yourself presentable!" - but he hasn't been able to do anything other than close the door behind him. he's still dressed in his clothes from earlier, still clutching a torn piece of roro's t-shirt in his right hand, still replaying the scene over and over again. it's been only an hour, maybe two, since the medic shook her head and put her equipment away. marc is still shivering in his rain-soaked shirt and flooded socks, still shaking from the cold and the shock. 

"i want to die i want to die i want to die," marc chants through chattering teeth, believing every single syllable. he looks up from his legs, across the room to his mirror, but he's not there. no one is there. or maybe someone is, but there's no way to know.

a dark cloth covers the mirror in marc's room. similar cloths cover mirrors throughout the house, along with picture frames; there's nowhere to see any of roro's features anymore. 

the thought draws something dark and angry out of marc, pulling him to his feet to tear the cloth away from the mirror. his reflection stares back, a blank face resting on hunched shoulders. no smile, no dimples; the only thing it shares with randall is the boy's flannel pajamas. 

the person in the mirror scares him. he readjusts the cloth, walks in circles for a moment, and then steven is sat at his desk with some colored pencils, driving the sharp points deep into his paper.

and now someone nudges marc's shoulder, holding out an open siddur to him, and marc's starchy white shirt itches his arms. he does his best to stay still as the man explains that "even though you're too young to count as part of the minyan, you should say this for your brother," and marc wishes that abba and uncle yitz never taught him how to read hebrew. 

"okay," marc whispers, taking the siddur. "thank you." 

he stares at the page, at the words he can sound out but not define, but those aren't the words he hears in his head when he tries to read.

"you know," uncle yitz would casually say as he circled around marc, "the only good jew is a dead jew. however," he would add, raising a fist closed around a knife, "jews like you are a close second."

with the blade pointing at the ceiling, displaying the chain that once held a chandelier but marc knows is used for other games, uncle yitz would talk about marc being up there, one day, "if you and your kind can survive the next few years." 

"what d'you mean?" marc had asked one time, and his uncle must've been in a good mood 'cause he didn't even slap marc for talking back. 

uncle yitz explained, with the practiced patience befitting a shul rabbi, that the cabal has big plans in motion. he'd said things about realism and money and marc had no idea what it meant or who 'his kind' were or why these plans would make it hard for them to live. his uncle must've seen the confusion on his face, 'cause he got frustrated and started yelling about breaking minds and genes, about creating slaves and hurting them 'til their blood tasted like defeat.

everyone says 'amen' after the chazzan, the sound of their united voice startling marc away from his memories. at least ten voices overlap in a familiar rhythm, echoing around marc, and he doesn't mean to but he drops the siddur so he can cover his ears.

wrong move, marc. 

it hits the ground and mostly everyone turns at the sound. multiple sets of eyes land on marc and he knows at least two are friendly, 'cause one is his abba's and one is the chazzan's, and chazzan gavriel isn't like uncle yitz, but marc has no idea about the other men in his house. some are yitz's friends, they have to be, 'cause even chazzan gavriel and his abba were friends with yitz, and a coldness runs down marc's spine. he shivers as the thought pops into his head: what if abba was one of those friends? what if he was there, in the basement, when marc begged to be saved by him?

easy, marc. i need you to take a deep breath for me.

he doesn't know if it's his own voice or an imaginary friend talking to him. he can't make himself care about what the answer is, 'cause he hasn't talked to an imaginary friend since the games with uncle yitz. he hasn't even thought about them or him since forever, doesn't even know if what he's hearing and seeing is from his memory or a terrible imagination, but the voice is right.

marc needs to breathe, so he does. he doesn't dare close his eyes or lower his hands, in case something bad happens. he just takes a deep breath in, lets it out, and repeats until his heart no longer feels like a rabbit trying to jump out of his chest.

and now marc is at the cave, alone. except he's not alone, 'cause there's another set of footprints on the dusty path beside him, and soon he sees abba walking out of the cave.

"there's nothing there, marc," he says a bit sadly. 

marc's brow furrows as he tries to figure out what abba is talking about. what would be in the cave, anyway?

abba sighs. "i see him sometimes, too. out here and around the house."

"who?"

"your brother."

marc must've seen something like a ghost of randall, and abba went to check, like he used to do for monsters under the bed before marc learned that monsters don't bother with beds.

"sorry," marc apologizes, 'cause this is all his fault. 

abba sighs again, and in the fading sunlight, he looks much older than he did only two years ago. "no, son. you have nothing to be sorry for."

"but -"

"you're only a child, marc. i've told you before, and i'll keep telling you, no matter what your mother says - you're a child, and it was an accident. you didn't do anything wrong, and i'm so sorry if i've made you feel that you have."

he spaces out for a bit, lost in thought. imma doesn't always agree with abba, doesn't always treat marc the way he does, but that doesn't mean abba has said this before. marc doesn't remember hearing this at all. 

"can i ask you something, son?"

"just did," he grumbles, but there's no malice behind it. 

"you're right. you don't need to answer me, or even have an answer, but…" abba trails off. he clears his throat, then tries again. "right now, are you marc?"

who else would i be? dies in his throat. sometimes, he has conversations in his head with imaginary friends, but sometimes it's like he's the imaginary friend. 

"no matter what, you are still my son. i need you to know that, okay?"

"but not hers," leaves the boy's lips before he even knows what he's saying. "she never wanted me, anyway, and you know it. she proves it at least once a week and you just let it happen," he says, gaining confidence with each word. he raises his chin and stares up into the man's eyes. "it happens to marc's body, yes, but he doesn't need to know how he got his scars. you, however," he takes a step closer to the man, "you've been there when it's happened, and done nothing to stop it. so, please, look me in the eyes and tell me that i'm your son. tell me that you care for me as much as you care for marc." he sets his jaw, and through gritted teeth, begs for the first time in his life.

"tell me i'm real."

his teeth hurt from clenching his jaw so tightly, and his eyes begin to fill with warm tears, but he doesn't look away. he's already let down too much of his guard for someone who will only use the words against him. 

and now marc is somewhere in a desert, the heat and humidity unbearable. images of the ten plagues pops into his head, along with a sneering old man brandishing a razor. someone shouts for him to get down, and his body slams into the sand before something explodes a few meters away.