#I didn’t have the patience to paint over them and try again

[lavellansvh3nan]

A Letter From Inquisitor Lavellan to Dorian Pavus

//OOC//: Hello again! These letters won’t leave my brain so I’m churning them out while the muse is there. Enjoy!

My friend,

I can practically see you brooding, you know. Which is your right and your past-time, by my count.

I won’t sit here and try to make excuses for my choices, there are no good ones anyway. I want you to know that no matter what, I never meant to hurt you. But that doesn’t make you less angry with me.

Perhaps I’ve caught you in a more benevolent mood, willing to hear me out. If Bull is near you when you read this letter, remind him that he owes me one. Or more likely you’ll crumple up this letter, probably set it on fire, and only spare a thought for me when you’re telling embellished stories around a gorgeous dining table. Either way, you are owed an explanation.

I remember when you told me of your intentions to try and change Tevinter. I was so proud of you, because I knew if anyone could make change in their home, it was you. The idea of watching my friend leave, knowing that it would be unlikely we’d see each other more than a handful of times among the years, was difficult to swallow. Especially after all you did to bring me back to life when Solas left.

You can say his name, you know. He isn’t going to appear around a corner and lunge at you. I’ve made him promise not to.

What you did for me in the months following his departure is a debt I’ll never be able to repay. I’ve known the love of a mother, a father, a lover, and a friend, but perhaps yours exceeds all of them. For yours is a loyalty, a steadfastness, a patience, that only comes with knowing someone completely and choosing to be with them in their dark moments.

Bathing me when I was covered in paint. Filling the endless silence of my despair with your constant prattle, being with me every single day I didn’t know what to do or how to move forward, it is a love I had never experienced or will ever experience again. It is unique to you.

When I finally came back to myself all those months later, realized you’d put your plans on hold for me, I was appalled. I assured you I would be fine and you finally went on your way. To start the life I knew you deserved. And look at all you’ve done! Minrathos and the Shadow Dragons would be nothing without your leadership.

I’ve spent the last eight years wondering what I would ever do if the chance came to see Solas again. In those first years, I was angry. And then I was lost, for a long time, though I think you were the only one who truly saw it.

Being the Inquisitor gave me purpose. I knew Thedas needed me. I wanted to help in whatever way I could, especially considering we’d inadvertently unleashed Solas on the world. And then there was the waiting, wondering when he’d strike. If he really intended to take us all down with him.

Over the years, I’ve spoken to so many about whether or not I believe Solas capable of tearing down the Veil. You, Bull, half the Inquisition, really. Most everyone agreed that Solas needed to be stopped by any means necessary. That he was a monster.

What was your poetic phrase? “A madman with the moral superiority of a guilty noble.”

Varric was the only one who believed Solas could be swayed. Told me that really, all Solas wanted was a reason not to go through with his plan. After what happened when Solas took my arm, I didn’t want to believe him. It was too painful to hope.

But then the reports came in, bit by bit from Varric. Noted from Solas, personal journals. Like he was leaving clues for us to find. As if his pride refused to relent but Solas, my vhenan, wanted us to stop him.

It wasn’t until I spoke with Rook, actually, that I knew for certain that if I saw him again, when I saw him again, things weren’t through between us.

Call it soulmates. Call it a connection through space and time. Or, call me a fool, as you already have. All are probably correct. But I’ve know since the moment I met Solas that something tied me to him. When I saw him again, I didn’t see the Dread Wolf. I saw my vhenan, beaten and broken and tired. Drowning in his regrets, a slave to what he thought was his journey to redemption. And in that moment, I swore Varric was standing there right beside me, telling me that the one thing that would sway Solas was love. And he was right.

Especially after his final encounter with Mythal (That is another letter entirely. One I know you’re dying to read, so if nothing else, allow me to indulge you in my next response)

To be perfectly clear— I do not love him more than you. I could love no one more than you. No matter where I go, I’ll be with you. Just as you told me when you returned to Tevinter. But it is different. Just as you have Iron Bull, and we both know logic has no place in your relationship with him.

*the last sentence is a crossed out line, still legible, as though Lavellan is teasing Dorian*

Now, this isn’t goodbye. This isn’t even see you later. Solas has assured me I can enter and leave the Fade whenever I choose. Thanks to Rook, there are plenty of Eluvians available for me to come and visit. If you’ll have me. I understand you plan to pout, to hate me for a few weeks, as is your right. Don’t brood too long, however. I know you’re chomping at the bit to know all that’s transpired.

Just know, I’ll never be far from you.

With love, always,

Elliana

[imbadatwrighting]

PAIRING: dean winchester x ditzy!winchester!reader, sam winchester x ditzy!winchester!reader (both platonic)

SUMMARY: maybe the winchester brothers should have made sure you were doing your homework instead of letting you goof off in your room; it only made you more stubborn.

A/N: i’m pretty sure this is very stupid and probably not that well written (if you can’t tell by the summary). I gotta start getting into writing again on tumblr 😭 but anyways this is based off this post!! mentions of getting hurt from a gun.

They should have known you weren’t doing your homework like you promised. You were never one who liked to do your schoolwork, even after being homeschooled due to the hunting life you were born into. It wasn’t like you couldn’t, just most of the time, you never put much effort into trying to.

It’s why most times when Sam gave you work to complete by yourself, you’d hold off until Sam’s patience wore thin and he begrudgingly helped you out. Not that Sam didn’t like to help his baby sister out, but he knew you could do it if you tried. Then again, it felt sort of nice to know someone relied on him and not Dean for once.

Maybe the first sign they should’ve noticed was how quickly you sprung up to go your room at the mention of school work. Once perched on Dean’s lap as he sat in one of the library chairs, your fingers twiddling with his flannel, then up and scurrying to your room when Sam only asked if you got any done yet.

A look of confusion spread on their faces and a quick, “be careful!” left Dean when he heard your little giggle as your thigh high socks made you slide down the hallway. But the groans and huffs of annoyance soon heard throughout the bunker caused them to force away their questions and continue on with their day. Dean drinking his beer and pretending to read the lore books while Sam actually read.

It was only a little more than half an hour later when they heard your door slam open and your feet paddling against the hard floor that they looked up. Sam stood up, walking quickly to where he heard you coming before your figure collided with his. He stumbled back only slightly, his hand grabbing onto your elbows to still you. It looked like it affected you more than it did him, Sam having to hold you up to stop you from getting knocked down on the floor.

“Hey, hey,” he spoke softly, his face painted with concern. “Are you okay?” You nodded your head quickly, basically hopping on your tippy toes with excitement. “I did it!” you giggled.

Sam raised his eyebrow. “Did what? Your homework?” he asked. He almost congratulated you before he saw the look on your face. Pure confusion and slight disgust. “What—no. Why would I want to do that?”

Of course not. Sam hummed with slight disappointment, but he didn’t get another word in edgewise before you were squirming out of his grasp and speed walking over to Dean. Your hand grabbed at his sleeve, trying to drag your older brother out of his chair.

Dean only looked at you with an amused expression, not moving a single inch even when you used your full body strength to try forcing him up. It wasn’t until the tone of your whines started getting more annoyed that he relented. His hand grabbed yours, making sure you kept your balance. “I’m up, I’m up. Don’t get your pants in a twist, sweetheart,” he grumbled, setting his beer on the table as you already started pulling him towards your room.

You didn’t even bother to question his phrase, even though you knew you were wearing a skirt, not pants. You just continued to drag Dean as Sam followed behind you two silently. You were babbling on about how you had to show Dean something but never mentioning what that something was.

When you finally got to your room Dean looked around in slight confusion. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. An army of stuffed animals still on the pink covers, your backpack, where you stuffed all your school papers, still peaked out of your closet unopened. Neither Dean nor Sam saw any reason why you’d want them in your room.

It wasn’t until you held up your computer. “See that, Dee?” you giggled, almost pushing the screen into his face. Sam grabbed the laptop from you carefully, but still held it so Dean could see.

“What am I supposed to be seeing, sweetheart?” he asked, looking at your screen. All he saw was a video game, that only took him a short second before he questioned if you should be playing it. But then again, he wouldn’t be bringing that up right now, he’d leave that to Sam.

A pout rested on your face and an annoyed huff left your mouth. “Mhm, I won!” you answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Dean nodded silently at your words. “Good for you,” he muttered.

You waited for Dean to add anymore but when he didn’t you groaned, taking a small step forward. One of your arms wrapped around his while the other pointed at the laptop screen. “I shot all those people! Now you can really give me a gun!”

That got your brothers’ attention, their heads turning to look at you. Dean grinned but his eyes stayed focused on your face like he was trying to find a glimpse at any sort of prank. Yet he found none.

Dean’s face hardened within seconds. “No,” he suddenly declared.

He could only think of all the scenarios of you getting hurt because of a damn gun. He hated the idea of you forgetting to turn off the safety and hurting yourself or someone taking your gun and using it against you. He especially hated the idea that you needed a gun in the first place. You don’t need a gun, you have him.

Sam nodded slowly, agreeing with his brother before shutting your laptop. “Video games aren’t anything like real life. We can’t make the decision to give you a gun based off it,” Sam sighed.

A frown fell on your face and you unwrapped yourself from your brothers, snatching the laptop from your other brother. “We hunt literal monsters and I still can’t use a gun?” you pouted, throwing your laptop onto your bed and crossing your arms.

“Well, when I don’t have to worry about the gun smacking you because of the recoil or you dropping it from the noise, I’ll think about it,” Dean grumbled.

“Besides,” Sam cut in with a small, apologetic smile, “you don’t need a gun; we gave you a knife last year incase there was a time you needed protection and we couldn’t be there, remember?”

You huffed dramatically, turning your head to the side in frustration. “Yeah, but that’s not the same,” you pouted. Sam nodded slightly, thinking of what to say to hopefully get you to agree. “Well, maybe in a few years we can revisit it, but for now, Dean and I don’t think it’s the best idea.”

“That’s not fair!” you declared, stomping your foot against the floor.

Dean rolled his eyes at your little temper tantrum. What was the big deal? So what if you can’t get a gun? It’s better than shooting off your face because you forgot to turn the safety on when you tried messing with it. “You know what’s not fair—” he started, eyes narrowing on you.

“Listen,” Sam interjected quickly, giving Dean a quick glare. “we can talk about this later. In the meantime both of you need to calm down. Go watch a movie or something.”

It seemed like your pout lessened and your frustration dissipating as the seconds went by. “Only if I get to pick,” you muttered.

Dean scoffed at that, his eyes rolling slightly. “I am not watching Gossip Girl with you again,” he grumbled. Your eyes narrowed on your eldest brother and before Sam could blink both of you were squabbling like toddlers.

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t bothering trying to stop you two; that would lead nowhere. With a huff, he was already heading out the door, knowing the fight wouldn’t lead anywhere else. By now you probably already forgot about not getting your way anyways. “Do your homework, please!” Sam said before stepping out of the room.

“I’ll do it later!” you yelled back, barely paying attention as you tried messing with Dean. Sam could hear you giggle as Dean probably pushed you onto your bed. Sam could only sigh, hiding his smile as he moved into the dean cave. He began setting up the movie he knew both his older brother and little sister would like; there was only so much energy in you before you’d want to cuddle up to your brothers and watch tv.

[creativepawsworld]

Silence Chapter 1

Pairing = Thomas Shelby x Original Character

Summary = Anastasia Adler, the youngest daughter of Edith and William Adler, where the tailors of Small Heath, Birmingham. Today, on her birthday she is hoping for a brand-new start for her life. Helping her brother may just lead to that new start but will it be what she really wants?

Warnings = Mentions of violence and gang related activity, language. Minor Do Not React

Word Count = 2175

Today I felt like a princess, I had finally finished a personal project I had been working on for the past two months. I was only ever able to do it at night when the tailor shop was closed. During the day, I had other commitments. Inventory, paperwork, the general running of the store for my parents. They were the tailors; I was only a trainee.

It was a beautiful, celestial linen, blue skirt that reached two inches below the knee. It was fitted to my waist but as it fell from my hips it expanded slightly, I added a few pleats to create an almost ballgown effect, so when I walked it felt as though I was floating. Matching the skirt with a part silk, white buttoned blouse with a high collar. My upper chest was decorated with lace and from my breasts down simple white lines finished the garment with long sleeves that were simply white covering my arms.

It was a rather elegant especially for around these parts, but today was a special day for me. Pinning my hair up at the base of my skull, before checking my make up in the mirror. It was the basics, my grandmother always told me I didn’t need any, I was beautiful the way I was. No need for all the paint.

Walking down the stairs to the living room which was empty but off to the left in the kitchen, I noticed my brother sat at the table his nose deep in the newspaper while my mother tidied away a few things from breakfast. My father was always the first to wake up and leave in the morning. He would go next door to open the tailor shop and get everything ready for the day.

“Good morning, mother, James” I bid with a smile towards them both as I pulled out an empty chair which was in front of a piece of bread and water, breakfast.

“Good morning sweetheart, that skirt is beautiful. You’ve done a really good job.” My mother smiled at me once she turned to look in my direction. “Give me a twirl before you sit down” She beamed. Feeling rather giddy myself I couldn't help but giggle as I held onto the skirt spinning in a tight circle before giving a little curtsey and taking a seat. “You’ve come a really long way” she said as she lay a hand on my head, placing a peck on my cheek.

“Thank you, mother, I’ve had the best teachers.” I smile referring to her and my father, stealing a glance at my brother who was biting his lips nervously across the table from me. The next thing, my mother had taken the paper from him, hitting him on the back of the head with it, an angry look on her face.

“How many times James? You are not allowed to gamble. Your father and I are still trying to come back from the last gambling debt you made with the Shelby’s. We will not be doing it again.” She reminded him throwing the paper in the bin, throwing the used lard from last night’s dinner on top so the paper wasn’t salvageable.

“Sorry mother” James mumbled under his breathe, his nervous behaviour not stopping. He had sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth, his eyes cast down at the table, avoiding all eye contact with me. My mother didn’t notice, neither of our parents would notice unless it was bluntly obvious. That was the kind of people our parents were, business first. As long as there was food on the table and a roof over our heads, we were considered fine, lucky even.

Growing up my brother and I had always been close. Our parents held little to no interest in most things in our lives. If it didn’t revolve around making money or tailoring, they didn’t have the time to listen or patience to indulge. So, we indulged each other. We became best friends.

A few months ago, my brother James had got himself into trouble with the Shelby family who ran an illegal betting shop along Watery Lane, a few streets from ours. There was an illegal boxing match in a factory workshop one night. To make things interesting, odds were drawn, and bets were made. James had bet on the wrong man. Arthur Shelby had won the fight. My brother didn’t have the money to pay him right away, so in return he was beaten by the older Shelby brother who demanded his money.

Upon returning home in a battered and bruised state, my parents immediately cleared out their savings from the family safe. My father ran as fast as he could over to the Shelby's shop paying off the debt, with interest and the promise of free tailoring services in exchange for sparing his son’s life. It was the one time our parents showed that they truly cared about us. A night that was never forgotten.

I had only heard stories about the Shelby family through their reputation of fear, violence and respect. Their lack of humanity proven by how beaten they left my brother over money, something they were never short of. Only my parents would deal with them whenever they made appointments for their garments. I was told to go home every time before they arrived, for my own protection my father would say. However, on one occasion the family matriarch Polly Gray came to the shop completely unannounced while my parents were visiting my grandmother in Artillery Street.

At first, I didn’t recognise her. I thought she was just another customer until she removed her hat, I remember feeling instantly terrified as those dark almost soulless eyes starred into my own.

Tears pricked in my eyes, as I felt a crippling fear consume me with every step, I took towards her. She watched my every move until I was standing in front of her, my head bowed to show her I was no threat and that I meant no harm towards her, the actions making her chuckle.

It was that day, I realised she was only scary if you were on the wrong side of her. We talked about how she admired the clothes I was wearing and how she wanted a few pieces for herself. Something I was only too happy to provide for her.

From that day, she would call to the shop occasionally to discuss potential designs that she had liked and whether or not I would be able to execute her ideas and bring them to life. Each request was finished, beyond her standards, proving to not only myself but to my parents I was ready.

It made my parents both uneasy allowing me to take full control over Polly Gray's wardrobe not because I wasn't capable but because of who she was. But seeing the repour I had with the woman, they handed me her custom, making Polly Gray my first official client as a tailor.

The Shelby men however, I had never met. I only knew what they looked like through various descriptions and stories told by my family and customers coming into the store. Identifying the men however wasn't hard, they were always well dressed in their tailored suits and peaked caps. The leaders of the Small Heath gang, The Peaky Blinders.

Whenever I was walking in the streets, I would sometimes catch a glimpse of them, their faces always hidden underneath their peaked caps, however. They always walked with a purpose, with meaning. Seeing them however, I would turn and walk away as wherever a Peaky Blinder went, trouble was sure to follow.

As my mother bid both James and I goodbye, her voice breaking me from my thoughts, I waited two minutes before tilting my head to the side as my brother stared in my direction. Silently watching each other, waiting for the other to break. He knew I knew something was wrong, but I wouldn't be the first to break. He would have to talk first.

“I fucked up Ana”

“I can tell James, just tell me it’s nothing to do with the Shelby’s. Mother and Father haven’t recovered financially from that since the last time, and I don't think they ever will.”

“It’s not the Shelby’s” James replied, the words that left his mouth should have given me some kind of joy, but it didn’t. The way he said it, had a dark shiver running through my body, a chill throughout my spine. “It’s Kimber”

“Kimber?” I repeated, the name sounding familiar before it clicked. In Small Heath the Peaky Blinders were in charge, it was theirs. Their territory. However, Billy Kimber and the Birmingham boys owned everywhere else in the city. They were in charge, nothing happened without their say so, without their consent. Getting involved with them was simply a death wish. “William Kimber? Billy freaking Kimber James?”

“It was a sure bet; I was guaranteed to win the money I had lost to the Shelby’s and a lot more. I would have been able to pay mother and father back.”

“Then what happened?”

“I lost, ten times, a guinea each time” He mumbled causing me to choke on my own saliva. My eyes widening at his confession. A hand flew over my mouth as a strangled whimper left my lips. I tried to regulate my breathing as I looked at him, shame and guilt filled his eyes as he stared at me. The gravity of his mistake sinking in.

“Where did you even get that kind of money?” I whispered harshly as if someone was listening to the conversation and would report back to our parents.

“Does it matter? I got it, I lost it and now am fucked. If mother and father find out…”

“If mother and father find out we would have to sell the shop, sell our home, live on the street and even then, that wouldn’t clear your debt. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking I could finally get out of this fucking place. Away from mother and father, away from the Peaky Fucking Blinders, away from Arthur Shelby who never lets me forget that he owns us now.”

“And away from me leaving me to deal with whatever other mess you've created?”

“No, I would never put that burden on you. Never you.” James insisted watching the tears fall from my eyes. We weren’t stupid, growing up in Birmingham we knew debts had to be paid. Either with money or your life.

James knew he couldn't run, if he ran Kimber and his men would come for his family. He knew Kimber would just kill our parents and take me for himself. Everyone knew he loved his women. He didn’t care if they went forced or willing, they were his to do as he pleased. Objects, nothing more.

“What do we do?” I whispered trying my hardest to stop the tears. I couldn’t go to work with my parents with puffy red eyes, they would know something was wrong the minute I walked through the door. They would find out what was going on and that would be the end of Adler’s tailors and our life as we knew it. I had to keep my emotions under control as best I could.

“I need you to do something for me.” James spoke lowly, getting up from his chair and kneeling in front of me on the kitchen floor. He was begging. “I need you to go to the betting shop and place a bid for me”

“Are you serious?” I asked my voice raising as I stood to my feet. My brother loses his balance and falls on his behind as I walked into the living room, my hand on my head. Today was supposed to be a good day, I finally finished my skirt. I was a princess. Today I was 26 years old, a new year of my life. A new start, a new beginning. It was supposed to be different.

“It’s the only way, I’ve definitely got a sure bet this time”

“You were told that the last ten times you betted and now look where we are, £100 in debt never mind the interest.”

“Please, this is my last and only chance” James pleaded, literally crawling over to me on his knees as he held a guinea in his hands. Tears in his eyes as he looked at me, pleading with everything he had in him to help him. Sighing to myself, I avoided eye contact with him as I reached forward taking the guinea from his hands. “Thank you, thank you. The horse's name is Monaghan Boy”

“I pray you are right” I tell him stiffly, still refusing eye contact, turning on my heel, taking my beige coat from the coat rack at the front door and wrapping it around myself as I opened the front door, walking into the dirt and grime that is Small Heath, Birmingham.

[midnightbears]

Hello there! This is my first time requesting! Can I please get a Uzui Tengen x reader imagine where reader was supposed to be one of his wives (the first actually) but couldn’t do it because she had to move away and they reunite years later and she’s single. It can be angsty but I want the ending to be fluffy if that’s ok. However you see fit.

✿ say you'll remember me, standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset, babe . . .

#STARRING: tengen mainly but the wives make a short appearance at the end :))

#TAGS: angst but it's okay bc theres a hint of fluff at the end

#NOTES: hello anon darling!! thank you for requesting and for ur patience! i am livid to write sum good uzui fics <3 also i hope it's not too bad and sorry if it makes no sense this is my first one djfhdsagf

Tengen's eyes were pink with the bizarre fuchsia flare-ups of the late-coming twilight. The color of infantile dreams, of luxurious satin sheets. He had the sincere and transparent eyes of a baby, as well as an aura of tenderness and confidence.

He’s always been like this, brash, undaunted, yet remaining with that spontaneous nature that made him all the more look like a child. His voice had a whimsical ring to it, as if he were the hero of his own comedy. She could just have remained with him indefinitely just to observe him and laugh.

She memorizes it, she memorizes him, with every fiber of her body she overworks her brain to try and paint a still-life portrait of him inside her mind. A facade of royalty and veracity, a face filled with intensity and a vehement wish. A man of promising buoyancy and with a character as fierce as the sun itself.

A face she's never going to see again.

He peered at her with steely eyes that were once her amorous, but now they simply conveyed baseless accusations from an enraged man. Their hue had only a few days before reminded her of the butterflies that frequented the garden, always lingering with dainty fuchsia wings and glittering heads, but suddenly the butterflies had flown away, leaving her lonely. Every feature in his face was rigid, and he expressed extreme skepticism, resentment, and deriding without saying anything. He was now standing between her and the only way out, frowning, fuming, and clutching his fists in a monotonous manner.

"Uzui-san, please understa—"

"I didn’t know your father was making your choices for you." He purposely made his voice sound like a smartass and she scoffed, but she could make out the undertone of a man who was tired of how much her family had influence over the life of the woman he loved.

She sighs. "Uzui, you have to understand, I need to do it for my family."

"I thought I was also part of your family. We were meant to marry."

She doesn’t say anything, and instead, finds herself adverting her gaze, fiddling with the robe of her kimono.

Tengen’s eyes shift, the light seemingly darkening them, his jaw clenches. An emotional rampage is flooding inside of him, the dam is slowly, surely breaking. He wants to cry, from frustration, from disappointment, from grievance. He’s also hating. He hates her family, he hates the circumstances, he hates her position. ( He hates her )

How was it even possible? It had taken years to fall in love with her! It had taken dreams and fantasies, requited ideas, and shared hopes. Tender flowers and aurate words. Falling in love with her was like stepping into Eden’s Garden as the only man in the world, a sanctuary of beautiful nature that was both pristine and bountiful. It was as if two entities were compressed into the finest threads and then burst faster than light. As though she were the center of his universe.

Was he really going to throw it all away for something she couldn’t control?

"Tengen."

He interrupted her. "You can choose."

"Eh?"

"You can choose to stay with me." His eyes remained on her the whole time, as if boring into her soul to stare at it directly, his arms were now crossed, manicured nails digging into his skin to form tiny increscent moves. "Our situations are the same! Since when have you cared about what your family thinks?! Just run away with me!"

His remarks impose a greater weight on her shoulders than the heavy burden of her own incompetence. They perch on her stomach and force her to the planet's depths.

She bit her lip and morosely pondered what to say next. He was right, and she knew it. Even though her family was in a high position among other clans, she knew that she could always choose to not listen to her family. She could choose to love him as much as he loved her.

But she was not like him. Despite their things in common, the high ground they had managed to find during all these years, the secrets that were shared, and quarrels that were suffered together, there was one simple, inane thing which separated Tengen from [Name].

She clicks her tongue, exhaling through her nose right after, a dry chuckle following. "You don't get it, not in the slightest. We are not the same."

Tengen can't even believe her words: she's mocking him. She's dismissing his statements with a shake of her head as if his arguments weren't worth the effort. She's stifling her giggles as she contemplates his misfortunes and tells him that he isn't the same as she is.

The man feels himself physically shaking with outrage at her standoffish dismissal. He can’t fucking believe her. It’s almost laughable. And [Name] does nothing else but walk towards him and pass him, not even sparing him a glance.

While her fingers land on the shoji behind her, her eyes burn with something unfathomable, distracted by the room they were in and the man himself standing in the middle as if he was the epitome of all and every good thing in the world. Though she was prepared to exit the room, she still faces her lover(?), her head inclining barely to the side.

"How are you able to say that?" Tengen sneers vehemently. "Our situations are identical; I'm not sure what you mean when you say they're different when they're plainly not." He remained just several meters away from her, staring down at her with the most heartless expression she had ever seen.

"Please bear in mind, Uzui Tengen, that our circumstances are not all the same. You are a man, and I am a woman."

She left the room, but he remained quiet in the center. How out-of-character of him.

The sky was an ocean of phantoms of the color orange. From stardust of cantaloupe painting the atmosphere like an overbearing artist to the lesser shades of coral conjured from the most innocent of martyrs. Everywhere she looked it was as if wraiths had taken it upon themselves to make sure that she came home to a specially pretty afternoon.

[Name] smiled at the tangerine trees. Her dream of coming home to her trees in full bloom coming true and making her inner child happily jump up and down. She approached one that looked robust, sturdy, and put her hand on it.

The tree's fingerprints were high waves that shone golden in the dawn light. It had the ruggedness that came with a father's warty embrace on the contact. She walked the rough surface with her fingertips. Valleys erupted in the trunk, as if ages of rainfall had chiseled them into the tree, molding it into a one-of-a-kind masterpiece. It was a rich brownish in the cold months the tree cozy, and an earthy accent to the spring and summer blooms. Although the glory of the bark was maybe forgotten and neglected in the fall exhibition of opulent golds and oranges tumbling in an ever-changing tapestry, [Name] had always loved it.

“Are you perhaps the caretaker of these tangerine trees?”

A feminine voice, smooth and domineering all at once snapped her out of her thoughts. [Name] turned, and was met by one of the most captivating women she had ever encountered.

Her hair, black and straight, moved as soft prairie grass in the summer wind. It gave contrast to her face, sweetly pale. Big, almond-shaped, purplish giggling eyes were outlined by thin eyelashes and eyebrows, and a delicate beauty mark was positioned beneath her left eye, giving her a pleasant and kind appearance.

She almost forgot to respond. “Uh— I am.”

The woman hummed, stepping up beside her and putting her own hand next to hers. "Well, I must say, they are beautiful, you've done excellent work in taking care of them, I'm sure."

Next thing, she was smiling so kindly at her.

[Name] stared at her, watching as the light of the evening gave her a magnetic glow, like an angel, and she was going to say something when another voice cut through the air. A more childish one, as pure as the driven snow.

"Hinatsuru-san! Where are you??"

Hinatsuru smiled and separated herself from the tree, cupping one of her hands to her mouth. Her giggling purple eyes glinted with newfound bliss. "In here!"

[Name] watched with surprise as two more women appear from behind the trees, one of them, with dark blue eyes and long black hair, breaking into a light sprint to reach them faster while staring into the imposing sky like a little kid, her eyes shining with wonder.

The other woman, with large golden-brown eyes and black hair tied up with golden-brown bangs which hang loosely, walks towards them slowly, also sharing the other woman's admiration for the sky as she looks upwards with a breathless face.

The woman with blue eyes is the first to break the silence. "Ooooh!!!! These trees are sooo pretty! Are you the caretaker?"

She's immediately met with a fist in her head by the blonde. "Of course she is you dolt! Do you see anyone else here?"

Hinatsuru smiles and giggles. "Makio, don't be mean to Suma-chan, we're in front of a new friend."

She wants to respond at that, at the way the three women are looking at her with such kind faces, but an extraordinarily familiar voice, a voice she never hoped to hear again, cuts through the air like a frenzied fire set upon heaven.

"Suma! Makio! Hina! Don't run off where I can't see you!"

[Name] could feel her heart physically stop when her gaze landed on the approaching man. Her eyes started filling themselves with stupid brimming tears, and her hands found each other just to pick at her skin to make sure it wasn't a dream. He hadn't changed at all.

She stares at the three women, looking oh so beautiful, all with grinning faces as they stare at the immense man. With makeup and a dazzling grin, a fiery frame, and a naturally flamboyant nature, he really hadn't changed at all.

Oh.

Once again her sentiments hinged crooked and her innards tautened. [Name] didn't know why, but she was wide-eyed, heart in her mouth, praying for an ounce of kindness, even if she didn't deserve it. She needed a hug, she realized that much, even if it was just words. She needs to be comforted like a child.

That's when she realized what had happened. One of the tangerines fell to the ground at that exact point. Despite her age, she still felt like a child. So she did what any toddler would do when challenged with strong emotions; this is both familiar and upsetting. She lets the agony consume her, and her regretful feelings overwhelm her, causing her to cry.

Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma, due to their lack of comprehension of the situation, obviously get rendered speechless, wondering why this woman has started crying just by looking at their perfect, loving, doting, amorous family that they have created.

That cry had something in it, anguish behind it. Tengen could do nothing but watch. He was gazing into [Name's] eyes. Then he realized what had happened. The rage was nothing more than a pain shield, like a trapped slayer aimlessly slashing his katana, frightened for his life, forlorn, and helpless. He took a deep breath in slowly.

"I—I'm sorry," she laughed sincerely, tears still flowing from her eyes as she tries to get a grip on herself, trying to dry her tears with her hand, "You're all just so beautiful I got overwhelmed for a second."

The three women can do nothing but comfort her, Suma is the first that pulls [Name] in for a hug, wrapping her comfortingly in her embrace, her own tears and cries mixing in the atmosphere and getting lost in the sky with hers as she cannot stand when other people cry. It's cute.

Makio is the second that joins, obviously still shocked by the situation but using an excuse to start her usual banter with Suma to leave the other woman space to breathe. Soon enough, her arm wraps around [Name]'s back while the other rests on her co-wife's head, lightly pulling at her head in their usual bickering.

Hinatsuru joins in the hug with an earnest smile, comforting the crying women as best as she can, and watches with tender eyes the way Tengen is looking at all of them. He's calm on the outside yet he knows on the inside he is emotionally overloaded, yet, one of his smiles reserved for his wives and his first love makes his way into his face.

The sky looks beautiful.

[kingsholomon]

A real idiot. That was what Lucifer believed himself to be. Not all the time, but at the moment he might as well be wearing clown makeup and that ridiculous rainbow afro.

“Lucifer, I need to talk to you. It’s about your brothers, I’d like to express my concerns with you so we could work it out.”

The tense memory of Diavolo’s stern voice played again and again in Lucifers thick skull. How could he be so stupid?

“I know you’re trying your best to keep your brothers in line, but so far, it’s almost like… and I regret that I must put this harshly— it’s almost like you’ve done nothing.”

Lucifer cringed. His mind running with regret, stress and anger. He’s finally slipped up— He’d finally commited the act he’s feared the most: Disappooint Diavolo.

The pride demon had been minding his own business, sorting misplaced files in Lord Diavolo’s study, as requested. He always knew that Diavolo was like a ticking time bomb, a man could only have so much patience. He’s tried very hard to keep his brothers in check, yes, but it looks like he’s run out of time. Fire only reaches you quicker if you don’t move.

Lucifer felt as if he was going insane. Every time he laid eyes on one of his younger brothers he wanted to claw them into bits because of their treaterous misbehavior, but at the same time he just wanted to grab them by the wrist and run far, far away.

He couldn’t do that though.

He debated whether to tell them about it so that they see the sour fruitage of their foul actions… At the same time, they’d probably say something snarky towards him, not taking it seriously.

They never took anything seriously, really.

Wether it be each others feeling or even schoolwork. They never really… cared.

“Your brothers don’t understand that there is a time and place for some things, and I kind of… need you to drill it into their heads.”

“I’ve been trying to do that but they won’t—“ Lucifer slightly raised his voice.

“Lucifer.” Diavolo’s voice was steady, and collected. A calm but assertive call that made the avatar of pride shut his lips.

“Your brothers came over a week ago to come and clean as you ordered them to for punishment. Which, yes, fair enough. However, they were intsructed to be quiet, since a noble family was coming over on that same day.”

Lucifer swallowed nervously. He knew this story.

“I think you could guess that they didn’t follow any instruction.” Diavolo’s voice suddenly shifted. It became dark, and his gaze more piercing. He was getting angry.

“They even went as far as to tear the very large—“ Lucifer braced himself for what he was about to hear. ”Very expensive—“ Lucifer felt like he was about to cry. ”—and very rare painting of my father in the treasure room.”

“That crosses every line.” Lucifer nodded. His brothers didn’t tell him this part of the story. “I won’t hold you accountable for it, though. I’ll give you some more time to figure out your family problems. If you fail, however.”

“I’m going to have to… condition your brothers myself.” The larger demons voice was terrifying. Lucifer almost felt the need to drop down to his knees in pain. Diavolo was not even trying to make it sound nice anymore.

Those were the last words that Diavolo spat before turning on his heel towards the door. Barbatos was supposedly waiting outside. due to Lucifer’s recollection of hearing the butlers vouce before his senses blanked out.

His heart was violently beating against his ribs.

He wanted to die, right then and there.

He feared his own, and the safety of his family.

He needed to do something, and fast.

Lord Diavolo’s use of the word conditioning was nothing to take light-heartedly.

The avatar of pride finally admits something he thought he’d never;

He was scared.

[gumnut-logic]

“C’mon, Virg, it will only take a minute.”

“I’m fine, Gordon. I’ll fix it myself.” Virgil sighed. His brother had been badgering him all the way home from the rescue. No doubt as soon as he could he would grab Scott and the nagging would double. Hell, they may even try manhandling. “It’s only a splinter.”

“Have you seen the size of it? I’ve seen two by fours with less wood in them.”

Virgil turned to stare at him. “Exaggeration, much?”

Strawberry blond eyebrows flared at him. “I say it as I see it.”

They were walking down the corridor from the hangars. Both of them were covered in mud and forest detritus, tired and looking forward to a decent shower and sleep. The only difference between them was Virgil was missing one of his gloves and the wrist of his uniform was torn.

He was holding his hand rather gingerly.

“I will see to it. Stop worrying.”

Gordon glared at him and hit his comms. “Thunderbird One, you there?”

“Gordon!” Virgil stopped dead. “Don’t you dare!”

“Thunderbird Four, what’s your situation?” Scott’s voice had the familiar roar of rockets and strained atmosphere behind it. The Commander was returning from the other side of the planet, having been on a separate rescue to that of Two.

“Hey, Commander, I need your assistance with a stubborn operative who is injured and refuses medical treatment.”

“What happened?!”

Great, now Scott was worried. Virgil cut in. “It is nothing, Thunderbird One. Gordon’s just overreacting.”

“He has a massive splinter in his hand! You know, one of those piano and artist hands of his. And he won’t let me treat it.”

“Virgil-“

“I’m fine, Scott. It’s just a splinter.”

His big brother’s sigh was loud enough to travel the distance faster than the ‘bird he was flying. “ETA in fifteen minutes. Then I’ll kick your ass, but in the meantime, I now have backup.” And Scott cut the connection.

What?

Gordon snickered. “Hmm, I really should have thought of that.”

“What?”

At the end of the corridor a door opened and his father walked through. “Virgil? Scott said you were injured?”

Aw, crap.

-o-o-o-

Gordon left him with his father. The older man took one look at his hand and, taking his wrist, dragged Virgil through the hallways to the infirmary without a single word.

He was deposited rather pointedly on the bed while his Dad poked around in the supplies.  “You flew home with that in your hand?”

Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shit.

“Uh...it’s nothing.”

Grey eyes pinned him. “Really, Virgil? It is over an inch long.”

Virgil mumbled. “Wasn’t really measuring.”

“I see we need to go over flight safety again.”

“I’m fine, Dad. Gordon was there if it became a problem.”

Antiseptic was dabbed on his palm liberally and Virgil winced.

“So why wasn’t he flying?”

Automatic response. “She’s my ‘bird.”

His father said something unintelligible, but the words ‘stubborn’ and ‘idiot’ were clearly heard.

“Really, Dad, it wasn’t an issue. It doesn’t even hurt.” Of course, that was the moment his father chose to move it in exactly the wrong direction and Virgil’s gasp did little to add to his argument.

“You were saying?”

Virgil didn’t answer but he couldn’t help but glare at his father. There was a distinct difference between arguing his health with his Dad versus Scott.

Scott he could railroad with enough stubbornness. Dad...well, he was the guy who hadn’t given up over eight years stranded alone beyond the reach of mankind. The man had learnt patience enough to outlast just about anything, including his boys.

A hypodermic appeared and Virgil was forced to acknowledge the correct dose and application and then wince as the needle went in. God, injections in his hands always hurt so much, damnit.

But his father was ever so gentle as he prodded and then pulled the chunk of wood out of Virgil’s palm.

“You won’t be playing the piano for a while.”

Virgil didn’t comment. Wasn’t the first time. At least he could still paint. Thank goodness for being ambidextrous...though he had to admit that his right hand produced a different kind of art to his left.

“Virgil?”

“Hmm?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, Dad.”

Grey eyes appraised him for a moment before giving the small wound a final examination and wrapping Virgil’s hand in a soft bandage.

“Is that really necessary? It was only a splinter.”

His father suddenly gripped his wrist and closed his eyes, head dropping.

Virgil’s eyes widened. “Dad?”

Voice raw. “Do you have any idea what an injury like this could mean untreated?”

“Um...”

His father straightened and rolled up his sleeve.

Virgil knew what was there. He had seen it on many of the scans he had done, at the hospital...

In his dreams.

It was a jagged patch of skin on his Dad’s inner forearm. The first time he saw it, he had thought the worst, that his father had given up, that there was a time...

“Infection, Virgil.”

“I know, Dad.”

“Don’t treat it so lightly.”

“Yes, Dad.”

His father sighed and sat down beside him on the bed, an arm wrapping around Virgil’s shoulders, drawing him in.

“Dad, I’m covered in mud.”

“I don’t care.”

His father rested his head against Virgil’s and for a moment they just sat. Dad was ever so much more tactile since his return. Hugging had become an everyday thing. Not that any of them minded in the slightest. Now Dad was, for the most part, healthy, they were slowly getting used to a new groove of having him around to help, to poke and prod.

And to hug.

Virgil let his eyes close and relaxed against his father.

“You don’t have to push it, son.”

“I-I know.”

“Be kind to yourself.”

“Yes, Dad.”

In the distance, a murmur became a roar announcing the return of his big brother.

“Because Scott is going to kick your ass, anyway, so let him do all the hard work.”

A snort.

“Yes, Dad.”

His father just hugged tighter.

-o-o-o-

[primofate]

Smile for Me (Part 3) Zhongli x fem!reader

Summary: Zhongli never smiled at you the way that he smiled at his memories of Guizhong. Thinking that the only way Zhongli would ever be happy is for Guizhong to come back again, you secretly set off on a journey to bring her back to life. But it comes with a price: Your life.

Warnings: pining, angst, one-sided (at first), hurt, angst again, drama, some Guizhong x Zhongli, hints of Xiao x reader, MAY NOT FOLLOW THE ACTUAL LORE.

Read: (Part 1) (Part 2)  (Part 4)  (Part 5)  (Part 6)

Zhongli jerks awake, his head half up from the pillow. He tries to remember his dream while sitting up, the sheets that were covering his bare chest falling and pooling around his waist.

He's silent for a moment. In a place where he's half awake, trying his best to rewind his memory of the dream.

"Welcome back, would you like some tea?" he has a hard time seeing the person's face. Like a smudged oil pastel painting. Just a blur. But he chuckles in the dream, as if he was familiar with them.

"You know my preferences," he simply says as he sits at the table.

"Hard day?" he's amazed how the person always seems to know when he's had a hard day. "...Yes, it seems that someone has damaged the ballista, the traveller and I inspected it,"

"... The ballista...?"

"The Guizhong ballista,"

"Ah..."

There was a small pause. He couldn't see the other person's expression but he gets a sense of loneliness, and he doesn't quite know why. Suddenly, she speaks up again,

"When's the last time you ever did something for yourself, Zhongli?" he's surprised, it was such a mundane yet difficult question.

"... Does drinking tea with you count? I quite enjoy it," he chuckles and the companion laughs, though it seems to be a bashful one.

"I mean it though, you're always looking out for others. The people of Liyue. Xiao. The traveller. I just want you to remember yourself too," he's struck with a tender feeling of gratitude. This person looked out for him. He feels slightly uneasy, because the person didn't include themselves in the list. He asks, tone carrying a playful tune to it.

"Pardon me for asking but you didn't include yourself in the list. Do I not look out for you enough, xxxxxxx?" he stops. He tries to say your name again but is only met with silence as his mouth moves. 

It's because he doesn't know it. 

He doesn't know who he's calling.

He doesn't know who's in front of him.

He doesn’t know your name and horror strikes him, yet he doesn’t know why.

You’re still standing in front of him, unmoving. Face still blurred. Not saying anything. The silence that hangs is starting to feel uncomfortable. 

He tries again. Opens his mouth. Lips move. 

But he doesn’t know.

In the dream, his usually calm and collected self starts to panic. What was this sorcery? Why was he unable to recall anything, anything at all about this person who seemed to be a good companion to him.

“Zhongli,” his head snaps up to look at your blurred face. “Zhongli, I’ll eat dinner with you,” his head starts to pound. “I’ll wait for you to come back,” and it’s as if something in him clicks. His eyes flutter wider, and his mouth opens to say your name--

Just as he wakes up. 

The longer he stayed awake the more that the dream blurred away from his memory. He wasn’t sure anymore if he was mixing up his memory, his dream, and real life. 

He felt as if it hadn’t been the first time he’s dreamt this.

In the end, he sighs, and decides to put it off. His eyes wander over next to him, Guizhong peacefully asleep and wrapped in the covers. Her long hair splayed out, the hairpin she always wore on the bedside table. Zhongli tenderly brushes some hair away from Guizhong’s face, and smiles. 

It seems like it’d been forever since he’s done this and then... again... he’s struck with a strong sense of unease. Why did he feel like that? Guizhong had been with him this whole time, hadn’t she? 

With many thoughts flitting in and out of his head, he manages to fall asleep. 

The next day as he awakes, drinking tea while sorting out papers, there’s a knock on the door. Guizhong had gone out today so Zhongli answers. 

It was the local painter.

“Master Zhongli!” The painter was a man who looked to be in his late 40s, he was youthful looking but you could tell his age by looking at the crinkles around his eyes. “Master Zhongli, here’s the portrait you’ve ordered to be painted a few months ago,” the painter had a canvas covered in brown paper, tucked under his arm. 

The canvas wasn’t too big, it was the height of a toddler just taking their first steps, and would probably be a little heavy on the hands, but otherwise manageable. 

“...A...painting?” Zhongli says, confused. 

He doesn’t recall asking for a anything to be painted. 

The painter, seeing the confused look on Zhongli’s face, continues “You’d said it was for a 500 year anniversary of some sort, and asked for it to be delivered... On this particular day," Zhongli reels back at the words, it feels as if something has hit him square on the head.

“You’ve been serving me for 500 years, it’s an occasion to celebrate, if you ask me,” Zhongli says and you just laugh under your breath. “It’s not a big deal,” but he insists that it must be celebrated. Or at least that he had to repay you with something for the help you’ve provided and so, when he asked what you had wanted, you simply and shyly replied. “A portrait, of you and me,”

The painter tears off the brown paper and reveals the painting. A beautiful rendition of you and Zhongli. He stands next to you, at least a head taller and you stand next to him with a sort of clumsy yet endearing smile. Your shoulders touch in the painting and yet... 

“Who... is this?”

Zhongli’s eyes are glued to your face on the painting. The way your lips curve up is so familiar to him. Your hair cascading around you and the simple yet elegant blue qipao that you wore.

He’s struck with the same panic that he feels in the dream last night. “I...I don’t recall--” and then he suddenly snaps up, turning to look at the painter. “Pardon me sir. You’re the one who painted this, yes?” The painter also has an uncomfortable look on his face, but answers. “Y-Yes, that’s correct. It was... Here. In this living room,” 

“Then could you perhaps tell me...this girl’s name? Was she a guest in this house?” Perhaps it was strange to ask the painter about this, seeing as, according to the painting, you and Zhongli were supposedly close. 

“...Sir...about that, you see...I... can’t quite recall who this girl is and... I don’t think I’ve seen her around at all,” 

And that’s how Zhongli knows that something’s wrong.

That’s how he knows that he must have been missing some piece of his memory because--looking at your face in the portrait again, that smile taunting him--it would be difficult to forget a face like yours. 

That’s how he knows that the twisting feeling in his heart is because he had forgotten something and someone important. 

And where were you now? Were you alone, and lonely and lost?

Things didn’t add up, and Zhongli was a man with strong instincts.

He remembers your face, but nothing about you. He grips at the portrait as flashes of you consume his mind. Like a reel of film. Your smile. Your annoyed glare. Your patience. Your tears. Your concentration. Your pout. Your frustration. Your calmness. Your patience.

Your selflessness.

For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t sure what to do.

Suddenly the nights spent waking up and missing a part of himself made more sense.

It didn't even matter that Guizhong was next to him.

He realizes it wasn't her he was looking for.

He sends the painter off with some money, leaves the portrait on the table, and sets out to get a breath of fresh air.

He would figure something out. He had to do something about the missing gap in his mind and the gaping hole in his heart.

Taglist:  @larkspyrr @rim0na @sweeti-pie @l3mon-mxshroom @hai-q-haikyuu @tkshoki @kyquu @kimbapsana @leefletter @hentaje @tempehlust @rinnesy @hallohun @softlybeloved @volleybloop @ssalamanderr @ben6ett @rytszk @guilixi @reiluvbot @mondstadts-favourite-traveler @xxcrowfeatherxx @b-trld @mkazuyuh @shittyeditsofwhatiwant @ayra2452008 @simpingover @soft-like-sunshine @lnrchii @scheophi @fkng_kumiko

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[rezzyromance]

Idk if this is how you request things or if it's just asking, BUT-

How would the Lords react to an S/O that's usually the chillest person that you will ever meet (not to be confused with a pushover because they are not), they've never seen them even mildly annoyed when something bad happens. But then something happens and, turns out, the S/O is utterly TERRIFYING when they're mad.

Hope this makes sense!

Aw man I'm gonna feel awful scaring Moreau and Donna :(

Alcina

You're relaxing on a beautiful morning. The sun is shining through the window just enough to warm the room but not hurt your eyes. You hadn't even changed out of your sleep wear. "How are you feeling, my dear?", a sweet voice rang from the doorway. You were sitting in your favorite chair near the window. You turn and smile at her. She walks over and rubs your face in her large hand before leaning down and giving you a soft kiss. "I'm feeling amazing. And you?", you grab her hand before she pulls it away and you place a kiss on her knuckles. "I'm feeling alright. There's a new maid here. She's a bit slow. I'm giving her until tonight to finish dusting the entire castle or else she won't see another sunrise." It was almost comedic how dark her words were as you both stared out the window and gazed at the beautiful scenery. "Come on Alcina.", you stand up and place your hands on hers, trying to hold them despite the size difference. "Give the girl a break. It's a huge castle AND it's her first day.", you knew your words would probably change nothing. Alcina was rather cruel, but you looked past it. You tried your best to make the nervous maids comfortable whenever they arrive.

"We'll see how she does." She gives you one more kiss before leaving the room. You sit back down in your chair, enjoying the warmth of the sun for a little while longer. You lose track of time, minutes maybe even hours go by. Suddenly, there's a crash not far from the door. You jump and stand up, no longer comfortable after being startled. "What in the name of Mother Miranda?!", you leave the room and look down the hallway. The new maid stood there with a terrified look on her face. In front of her was one of the paintings Alcina had on her walls, now with a broken frame and a hole punctured. Your blood began to boil. It was a painting of you, her, and the girls all together. It was your favorite. "How in the hell did you manage to do that?!", you begin to stomp towards her. She cowers and struggles to find her words. "I-I-I was just dusting! It fell and I-I didn't mean t-", you cut her off. "How the fuck did you knock such a large painting over just by dusting?! DO YOU THINK YOU'RE ALLOWED TO MAKE SUCH STUPID MISTAKES HERE?!", you unravel. "I-I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!", she almost begins to weep. "SORRY ISN'T GONNA SAVE YOUR ASS!"

"MISS DIMITRESCU PLEASE HELP!", she cries out. You freeze, realizing that the lady herself is right behind you. You turn to face her. Her eyes are wide with shock. She has never seen you like this before and never even knew you had this type of side to you. She was impressed as much as she was terrified. "(Y/N)? Are you alright my love?" She had no idea what to do as your seething slowed down. "Why don't you go back to the room, yes? Settle down a little and deal with her later.", she places a hand on your back helps walk with you back to the room. Once you're there, she bends down to whisper in your ear. "I don't know where this side of you has been this whole time, but I am so amazed by you. And also a little frightened."

Donna

The Beneviento house was usually a calm place despite its creepy aura. You and Donna are both quiet and chill people. Never once have you fought or even raised your voices at each other. It was pleasant.

You had planned a nice dinner for the both of you. You wanted to try out a new recipe and surprise her, so you made your way to the kitchen to get started. "Okay, what first? I guess I'll need a pot.", you go rummaging through the kitchen and you find the pots stacked within each other inside one of the top cabinets. You groan and stand up on your toes, grazing the pots with your fingers. It didn't take much to cause them to tumble down, crashing on top of you with a loud sound that followed. "Aw shit.", you sighed and picked up the knocked over pots. A small but annoying pain began to throb in your head from where it made contact with a pot. What you didn't notice was you forgot to pick one of the pots up. It remained unnoticed. "It's fine.", you say to yourself as you maintain your composure. Next, a cutting board and knife. You turn around and begin to walk forward to find the cutting board, but you slam your toe into counter. You wince in pain and grab your foot. "SON OF A BITCH!", you yell.

You calm yourself, still wanting to have a pleasant meal with Donna. "Alright. Everything's fine." You step forward and kick the pot that you had forgotten to pick up. It caused your freshly kicked toe to ache even more. "OH COME ON! GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!", you scream and swear as you throw your arms up in pure rage and shock.

"...(Y/N)?", a gentle voice whispered from the doorway, causing you to whip your head in that direction. It was Donna. She looked absolutely horrified and almost looked like she could cry. "Is.. is everything... are you alright?", she worried. "Yes. I'm sorry. Just got a little pissed off.", you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, feeling bad for scaring the poor girl.

Moreau

You were sitting on the dock together, looking into the water as your feet swung back and forth above it. It was a sunny day and you two decided to spend it outside. Your hand slowly made its way over to his. His feet stopped swinging for a second as you entangled your fingers. "I don't know what I'd do without you, (Y/N)." his words were bitter sweet as a gentle smile formed from his lips. "Oh, Sal. You don't have to think like that. I'll always be here for you.", you kiss his cheek and continue to relax as you sway your legs.

"There it is! There's the beast!", a voice yelled from not so far away. You both look in the direction of the voice and see a few young village boys. Possibly between the ages of 13 and 16. Moreau had become some what of a scary story for the villagers. A tale that kids spread on school court yard and bring up during dares. But, you've never seen a kid brave enough to actually make it far enough into the reservoir to actually see Moreau. Now, there were about 3. All of them stood and pointed, shocked and terrified.

"Hey beast! Come get me!", one kid teases. You glare at the kids as a newfound rage begins to boil inside you. "Let's go back inside.", Moreau says before standing up from the doc. The sadness in his voice was heartbreaking. Suddenly, one of the children gathers the guts to pick up a rock and throw it as hard as he could. His aim was off, but not by much. It slammed into the wood near Moreau's feet, startling him. "Take that you devil!", he laughs. "THAT'S IT YOU LITTLE SHIT!", you begin sprinting in the direction of the immature brats. Two of them run from the direction they came from while the one who threw the rock was frozen in fear. You took the opportunity to grab him by the collar of his shirt. "Listen here you little waste of space. I'm gonna give you 3 seconds to turn around and run for your goddamn life. If you or any of your little snot-nosed friends come around here again, they'll be goddamn fish food. Do you understand?" The kid was too scared to speak and instead began to nod rapidly. You let him go and watched as he ran as fast as he could, screaming the whole way.

You walk back to the shack and find Moreau standing in the same place he was when you took off. His mouth was agape and he looked almost as scared as the kids. "You alright Sal? I made sure those little shits won't be coming around here anymore." "Yeah... I didn't know you could be so... scary", he says. "I'm sorry. But those kids were being cruel. I had to do something.", you say. "Well... it was awesome!", he smiled. "But also very scary!" You laugh which helps sooth him a little.

Heisenberg

"Screw driver.", is all Karl said with an outstretched palm. He was working on some type of mechanical heart for his experiments. He wanted you to lend a "helping hand" even though he could easily do it all by himself. He did this because he wanted to be around you, he was just too stubborn with too big of an ego to simply say it. So here you were, handing him every little tool he asks for.

"Do you want the big one or the little one?", you say with a hint of boredom in your tone. "Aw c'mon don't sound like that! Isn't this exciting? It's like you're working on it with me! Also, hand me the big one.", you do as he says and hand him the big screw driver. "I just don't get it. You literally have powers. You can easily do this by yourself and have been for so long. Why do you need me to help?" He pauses for a second and looks over towards you, his brow slightly furrowed. "I don't NEED you to help. I just thought it would be nice for you to help out. Plus, you're the one always bitching about me constantly working. Well, here you are! Helping me work! So, either suck it up or you can leave." His harshness had no real ill will in it. He was just confused and a bit too ignorant to consider his words. But, he was testing your patience. He continued to use the screwdriver until handing it to you without saying a word.

"Hand me a screw.", he demanded with his hand facing palm up again. "Which size?" "They're all the same sizes, dumbass." You feel your blood begin to boil. "They're different fucking sizes! This one is smaller than this one!", you hold up two screws that are obviously different sizes. This makes Karl angry. Not because you were right, but because you seemed upset over something that seemed so insignificant.

"If you came here just to yap in my ear, then I don't think I need your assistance.", he huffed. You put the selection of tools and supplies he was making you hold on the table he is working on and ball your fists. "You're the one who told me to do this in the first place!", you yell. "Yeah, because you won't stop bitching! Non-stop you're always compla-" you cut him off before he can finish. "SHUT UP!", you yell. The room goes silent. "YOU SAY I'M BITCHING? HAVE YOU HEARD YOURSELF? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST KARL YOU BITCH AND MOAN ALL THE TIME! I'M DONE TAKING SHIT FROM YOU!" He wanted to be angry, but he couldn't. He felt something much more overwhelming. Was he.. intimidated? He didn't move from his seat. All he could do was look up at you with a confused expression. What now? What is there to do? If he pushes you further, what would happen? He was actually too scared to find out.

You take a deep breath to calm down before speaking. "Now, if you want me to help with your shit, I'll stay as long as you keep your mouth shut. Can you possibly manage to do that?" He gulps nervously. "Yes ma'am."

[calebdumes]

Prompt - Kanera talking over difficulties they're having as adoptive parents - Ezra being feral, Sabine and her complicated relationship with her birth family, something like that. Just them and the struggle to be good parents. They try so hard!!

Thanks for the prompt! I'm sorry it took so long to get done!

fandom: star wars rebels

relationship: kanan jarrus/hera syndulla || ghost family feels

word count: 1.2k

rating: g

~

“Would you stop doing that?” Sabine’s voice snapped through the relative silence of the cockpit. 

“I’m not doing anything.” was Ezra's mocking reply.

“Yes you are, I can feel it.” 

Kanan closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose. It wasn’t like Sabine and Ezra to fight like this, it was Zeb and Ezra that tended to butt heads but this last mission had been an exercise in patience and tensions between the crew were running high. They just needed to make it back to Lothal and then they could all get some much needed space. He breathed deeply again and did his best to ignore the two bickering behind him.

It was easier said than done.

“Ezra.” Hera said in an exasperated tone. “Please leave Sabine alone.”

“What?” he cried and Kanan’s eye twitched. “I swear I’m not doing anything!”

“You just did it again!” Sabine hissed dangerously, slamming her fists down on the armrests with a dull thud. “Stop it or I’ll make you stop.”

“Oh yeah, what are you going to do? Shoot me?” 

“I just might.” she snapped back. 

Any semblance of control Kanan had, evaporated at the sound of Sabine’s holster unsnapping. He spun his seat around to pin the two teenagers with a heated glare. 

“Enough.” he ordered, his tone holding no room for argument. “We have two more hours in hyperspace; I don’t want to hear another word out of you two until we get back to Lothal. Got it?”

“But I’m not doing anything!” Sabine protested. “He’s the one that won’t leave me alone!”

“I don’t care.” Kanan ground out through clenched teeth before turning on Ezra. To the teen’s credit, he didn’t balk under Kanan’s gaze. He pointed a finger at his padawan and said, “Don’t look at her, don’t speak to her, don’t do whatever it is you are doing, do you understand?”

Ezra sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest defiantly. “Why am I getting in trouble and not her?”

“Because I wasn’t doing anything you moof milker!”

“Sabine.” Hera interjected. “Knock it off.”

Sabine pouted. “I don’t see why I’m being punished when it’s Ezra that won’t leave me alone.”

“You just threatened to shoot me!” 

“Only because you suggested it in the first place!”

Beside him, Hera took her hands off of the controls to rub at her temples. Kanan resisted the urge to do the same. He just wanted five minutes of peace, five blissful minutes of uninterrupted quiet where no one spoke or did anything. But that wasn’t going to happen as long as Sabine and Ezra were in the same vicinity of each other.

“Both of you, get out of here.” Kanan snapped, silencing Sabine and Ezra’s arguing. “Go to your cabins.”

They looked up at him with confused faces but didn’t move.  

“What?” Sabine and Ezra said in union. 

“You’re sending us to our rooms?” Sabine questioned with a huff. 

Ezra nodded along. “You know we're not children right?”

“Well you’re kriffing acting like it.” Kanan growled. “And if you’re going to act like children, I’m going to treat you like one.” 

“You can’t be serious.” Sabine said, a look of disbelief painted on her face. “Hera, tell me he isn’t being serious.”

“Oh, he’s serious alright.” Hera said, turning in her chair to face them. She looked just as done as Kanan felt, her lekku drooping and dark circles forming under her eyes. “And if you know what’s best, you’d listen. Or I’m sure I can find something for you to work on around the Ghost.”

Sabine stood with a huff. “This is ridiculous.” she said before stomping out of the cockpit. 

Ezra, unfortunately, didn't move. 

Kanan arched a brow, little flames of frustrationlicking his insides. He clenched his jaw, pushing them back. 

“Zeb’s napping.” Ezra said matter of factly. “I can’t go to my cabin.”

“Then go to mine.” Kanan replied, his voice shap. “Get my holocron and go through the meditation practices.”

The smug grin fell from Ezra’s face. “What? I get work and Sabine doesn’t?”

“Yeah, you do because you didn’t listen when she asked you to stop.”

“But I wasn’t doing anything bad!”

Hera stood, her hand planted on her hips as she locked eyes with Ezra. “That’s not the point.” she told him sternly. “The point is, you didn’t listen and now you have to face the consequences. Now, do as Kanan says or I will find something for you to do and I guarantee you won’t like it.”

Ezra fumed for a few seconds longer, his displeasure sharp in the Force but he pushed himself to his feet, grumbling under his breath as he stalked from the cockpit. Hera collapsed back into the pilot’s chair the moment the doors slid shut. 

“Who’s idea was it to recruit teenagers?” she asked wearily. 

“It was a team effort.” Kanan replied, sinking down into his seat, letting the quiet of the cockpit wash over him. “I’m too young to be a parent.” 

“Speak for yourself gramps.” she said tiredly. There was a beat of silence before she asked, “Do you think we overstepped?”

Kanan looked over at her, surprised to see worry etched into her face. “How so?”

“We’re not their parents.” was all Hera said. 

Kanan thought for a moment, pondering her question. It was true, they weren’t their parents, at least not in the traditional sense. But then again, Kanan didn’t really know much about the traditional sense of family. He never had a mom or dad like the rest of them did. He had the Jedi, his master.

Sabine’s parents were still alive and Ezra’s were…somewhere out there, lost to the Empire. Kanan didn’t really know where he and Hera stood in the teenager’s lives. He didn’t know if they saw them as anything other than crew. 

But he did know that they were family to him and he would do all that he could to keep them safe, even then they acted like feral tookas. 

And Kanan suspected Hera felt the same. 

“Maybe so,” he said, reaching for her hand. “But we’re all they got.”

That seemed to put a smile on her face, her fingers squeezing Kanan’s gently. 

When they finally touched down on Lothal, not far from Old Jho’s cantina, Sabine and Ezra were waiting for them at the bottom of the loading ramp. They shifted nervously on their feet, contrite looks on their faces. 

“We uh,” Ezra said, dragging his boot across the dusty ground. “We wanted to say we’re sorry. For earlier.”

“Yeah,” Sabine nodded, biting down on her lip. “We were acting like brats.”

“And you both do so much for us, you didn’t deserve that.”

Kanan couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. 

“Thank you for the apology.” Hera said with a gentle incline of her head. 

Ezra nodded before turning and running off towards the cantina to catch up with Zeb. Sabine lingered a moment longer, her mouth slightly opened as if she was preparing to say something. Instead she darted forward, wrapping both of them up in a tight, quick hug. 

“Thanks for looking out for us.” she said, her voice muffled by Kanan’s shirt. She quickly let go and ran off after Ezra, avoiding eye contact, though Kanna could see her eyes shining. 

He felt Hera’s arm wrap around his waist, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. 

“They’re alright.” she said. “Most of the time.”

“Yeah,” Kanan replied, kissing the top of her head. “I guess they are.”

He still wasn’t sure where he and Hera stood with Sabine and Ezra but there was one thing he was sure of, they were family, no matter what.

[iwrotemyownending]

Imagine: Giving birth to Joel Pimentel's Baby

Hello, I wanted to share this with you guys. I hope you guys like it. I want to thank all the people who have liked my work so far! I apreciate you so much. I'll take request and ideas if anyone is intrested let me know please!

Imagine: giving birth to Joel’s Baby

Genre: Pure Fluff

Pairing: Joel Pimentel x Reader (Y/N)

Words: 1963

I looked at the clock again, it was 2 am and I just couldn’t sleep. I just couldn’t get comfortable, my back hurt, my legs hurt, and I had to pee very 2 minutes. Soft snores made me look to the side, ugh lucky jerk. His chest rose and fell so calmly, his handsome face so serene. Why did he get to sleep so smoothly?

Being almost 9 months pregnant was not an easy task, and as my due date approached, I was even more and more miserable. Every task was almost impossible to do, everything required so much effort and I felt so tired all the time.

Despite the hardships, I was so beyond the moon to be a mother, I couldn’t wait to finally hold my baby in my arms. To top it off I had an amazing husband who was by my side at every step: through every morning sickness, and every weird craving, every hormonal break downs and even threw my crazed nesting phase. I had him painting and fixing the nursery like a mad man, and I’m sure I drove him crazy at times, but he never lost his patience and never argued back. I really didn’t deserve this man.

But watching him sleep so peacefully, when I couldn’t only made me angry, and I felt the urge to elbow him in the ribs to wake him up and make him suffer with me. Just as I was about to do so, I felt a sudden gush of moisture between my legs. That can’t be my water breaking I’m still 2 weeks away from my due date…its not time oh god I’m not ready for this. My heart began to race, and I couldn’t believe that all the reading I had done in the past 8 months has gone completely out the window now that I’m here. Now that I need that information. My breathing began to get crazy and at that moment the only thing I could think of was to wake up my husband.

“Babe”, I whispered. Why am I whispering I was about to elbow him not even 2 minutes ago and now I’m whispering?

“Joel”, I said loudly. He began to stir but still didn’t wake up. “BABE WAKE UP”, oh god is that a contraction I’m feeling? It can’t be its just m head plying with me.

“What, what Mami what is it?” he sat up immediately, his features slightly visible from the small amount of light coming from the clock on my side table. He had worry written all over him, and I don’t know what my face looked like but as soon as he caught my expression his concerned tripled. “Baby what is it? did you have a bad dream?”

I shook my head; my heart and my breathing were out of control. He placed his hands on my cheeks and brought my face toward his, “baby please try to calm down, slow deep breaths please Mami just relax, what’s wrong?” he placed soft sweet kisses on my lips.

“I…I think it’s time”, I double over in pain, ok Ya that was a freaking contraction. “What?” He’s looking at me in utter shock. “But its not time yet”, “I know”, I tell him. “But I don’t think the baby knows that”.

He’s the one in shock now, he’s breathing is becoming erratic. We can’t both afford to lose our shit right now at least one of us has to keep their head straight, and by the lost look in his eyes, that person is going to have be me.

“ok, well its ok we have time baby, get my bag please, call Chris and Mandy, they will let everyone else know” I started to climb out of bed, the best I could. Joel was still motionless on the bed. I walked over to his side and placed a few kisses on his head. “Baby, what’s wrong, I’m gana need you to drive me to the hospital so could you please come back to me?”, I whispered to him.

“I’m gana be a dad”, he whispered with such awe. “Yeah, silly you barely realizing it” I laughed lightly.

“What if I’m not a good dad?” he questioned, finally looking at me, I saw his eyes filled with tears.

“Joel”, I took his hands and placed them on my belly. “Can you feel that? that’s your baby and he loves you so much. Baby you already are an amazing dad, you’ve fixed our baby’s room with so much love and dedication and you’ve been so amazing though my whole pregnancy. Your baby is so lucky to have you as a dad”. The tears in his eyes had spilled over and I was sporting some of my own.

Just than another contraction hit I doubled over again and that snapped him into action. In a blur of movements, I changed into comfy and warm sweats and a sweatshirt. By the time I was ready he had my bag and purse over his shoulder the car seat in place in the car, with keys in hand he led me outside and strapped me in the seat.

“Ok I need you to hurry, it hurts oh my god this hurts so much”, I was losing my cool again at this point and even though the hospital wasn’t too far away I needed to get here now.

“I gana get you the soon hermosa, just keep breathing remember just like we practiced”, Joel’s tone was so calm and soothing but at this moment I couldn’t careless I was in so much pain.

“Breathe my ass, Pimentel I need the hospital NOW”, I was screaming by the time we pulled up to the emergency room. Some how Chris and Mandy had beaten us here. Mandy rushed to my side and opened the door.

“How you are doing hot mama?”, she took my hands and helped me out of the car, there was a nurse with a wheelchair ready for me. “I’m not doing good, oh my god I can’t do this I can’t Mandy”. I was so scared my body was shaking, “hey hey, yes you can girl you’re so strong and just think about it in a little bit you’ll have your baby in your arms and it will all be worth it”. She brushed some hair from my face, she was always such a sweet friend. Joel Rushed to my side, and carefully helped me sit on the chair. Chris took off to park the car and the rest of us were rushed inside.

“You’re doing so great Mami”, Joel whispered as he wiped some sweat from my forehead. I had been in labor for almost 6 hours, and I still needed a couple more centimeters to go. The pain has been excruciating and I feel like my body is about to give out. Joel hasn’t moved once from my side, whispering sweet words of encouragement the whole time. “Baby, you got this, you’re so strong so amazing”. He leaned into me and kissed my forehead and my cheeks. “I love you so much mi Reina”. I smiled at him and kissed his sweet full lips; I was about to return the sentiment when another contraction hit “ahhh I would say I love you too but at the moment I quite hate you…” I squeezed my eyes shut and squeezed his hand again. “Ow baby, you’re hurting my hand that’s painful”. I glared at him, “you don’t know what pain is” I glowered.

“Ok, looks like were about ready to start pushing Mrs. Pimentel”. I turned to look at Joel, I felt so scared what if something went wrong? He always seemed to be able to read my mind, placing his hands on my belly he said, “everything will be ok, this little blessing will be in our arms so soon Chiquita. I’m right here we’ll do this together ok”

“Ok here is the next contraction and I need you to push with all your strength Mrs. Pimentel”, the doctor and the nurse were all ready and waiting for me to start pushing. As the pain came, I pushed with everything I had.

I don’t know how many times I pushed or how many times Joel placed soft kisses to my temple as I screamed in pain. When everything seemed just too much to bear, I heard the loud cry of my little baby. Focusing again on everything around me I saw Joel’s expression of pure awe and happiness. “Congratulations, you have a baby boy”, said the doctor, “Dad would you like to cut the umbilical cord?”. I laughed breathlessly at his childlike over excited nod. I watched my husband cut the cord and he looked up at me. “He’s beautiful”.

As the nurse and the doctor took him to check and clean him, Joel came to my side again. “Thank you”, I whispered to him. I took his hand once more and kissed it. “I’m sorry if I hurt you”. He laughed and kissed me soundly. “Baby you could’ve ripped off my arm and hit me with it and I wouldn’t care less I feel so happy, and I’m so grateful for you. You are such an amazing woman Nena, so strong and beautiful. We’re parents!”. I smiled at him and caressed his face. “Yes, we are, and I couldn’t have done it without you by my side”. I whispered to him. As we kissed the nurse brought my baby to me. She placed him in my arms, and I couldn’t believe he was finally here. As looked at his little features he opened his eyes, and I swear I fell in love in that instant. He has his fathers’ eyes, so beautiful brown and warm.

“He’s so small”, Joel whispered as he grabbed his little fingers. “I know I whispered back. “He’s so beautiful, he’s perfect. Just like his daddy”, I said looing up at my husband, I noticed tears running down his face. “What’s wrong?” I said. He shook his head, “nothing baby im just so happy and so in love with my little family. I promise you I will be the best father I can be, and the best husband too.

“Aww sweetheart, you already are. You’ve been so amazing since the day I met you and I’m so excited to begin this new chapter together”. We kissed again and our little baby began to coo. We both looked down at him and smiled as tears ran down our face. Just then Joel’s phone began to ring.

“Hello” He laughed, “Ya, I’ll be right there”. He hung up and turned to me. “Everyone out there is going crazy they want to me the newest member of our family”. I laughed too. I can imagine Chris, Mandy, Zabdiel, Eric, Richard, Catalina, Alexa, My parents, my in-laws and just about everyone that knows us in the waiting area of the hospital.

“You better go get them than babe, before they get kicked out of the hospital all together”. Joel laughed again and he gave us both a kiss as he stepped out of the room.

“You’re in for a treat baby”, I whispered to my son, “you’re about to meet the craziest people on earth but they will love you so much. We are all going to love you and take care of you. Daddy and I will always love you and protect you I promise”. I kissed him again and looked into his alert sparkling brown eyes. My Son, I had an amazing loving husband now I had our son in my arms. I couldn’t ask more form life. I had everything I needed to be happy.

[multiples-fandomswontkillme]

~Metal Family headcanons~

These are like my... general hcs)? which means I didn't include my main hc that Glam, Ches and Vicky are polyamorous, married and started dating after Glam met Vicky, and absolutely everything that implies for the kids and the relationships between each member of the fam. Maybe I'll make a separate post for that or maybe not! Who knows lkfwnlfqnf

Glam

Bisexual

Glam has constant nightmares and ocasional night terrors ever since he ran away home and is an active sleep walker. Ches helped him through the worse ones when they were younger, and learned how to deal with them, always preferring not to wake him up but being with him until the episode passed. Vicky has learned how to deal with them, though she normally asks Ches for advice with it cuz she comes out short sometimes.

He has PTSD. I bet it's diagnosed too, he takes medication and goes to therapy, it doesn't mean he still doesn't have his bad days anyway. He's trying to get better.

Glam has talked to Vicky about his past, his father and his family. This is a direct contradiction of Alina's confirmation that Glam doesn't talk about it with anyone but man FUCK THAT. We love good communication in this house, Vicky tries her best to help him, but there's only so much she can do to help.

Glam enjoys gardening, cooking and making models, he also likes doing his make up, painting his nails and dressing up in fancy, extravagant clothes even if he has nowhere important to go.

He likes taking care of everyone's hair, and constantly helps Vicky brush her hair cuz there's so much of it, Dee when he gets stressed over how tangled it can get, buys Ches hair products so he actually takes care of it, and chases Heavy so the kid actually washes, untangles and brushes his hair.

This one is kind of weird, but I refuse to think any adult in the family is unarmed at any time. Glam owns a taser and pepper spray. They're bright pink and sparkly.

This man cried his eyes out while watching Coco. He's hell to watch movies with cuz he talks and predicts what's gonna happen during the movie, judges them with scores at the end and all.

Vicky

Also bisexual!

Vicky's the one who does everyone's laundry most of the time. She prefers it that way since she's the only one that knows how to wash their black clothes so the colors stay vibrant. (This is based on my gf shaming everyone but Vicky cuz their black clothes always look so muted and almost gray, but Vicky's whole outfit is always the same vibrant black colors, so we decided that neither Glam or the kids know how to wash dark clothes)

She has anger issues, if it isn't obvious. I think she also has PTSD, mainly survivor's guilt due to her surviving the accident her brother died in. She blames herself and cannot bear to talk about it, in some sort of deep denial. If she can't remember, it can't hurt as much, right?

She has scars on the right side of her back and her hip, from the road rash she got on her brother's accident, she never treated it due to grief and it scarred badly. Apart from that, the scar of the caesarean section from Heavy's birth. She doesn't really mind both of them, they happened, nothing to do about them.

She likes watching boxing competitions, brawling matches and motorcycle repairing on TV. Loves doing BBQ's and going to the pool. Also an enjoyer of teasing her kids, kissing and loving her husband at random times, spending time drinking and bonding with Ches and bragging about her family and punching anyone who thinks they're not that cool.

Not particularly a fan of make up, skirts and dresses or any traditionally femenine-perceived stuff. But has been making exceptions due to Glam and Ches being unashamed of being seen as femenine, and actually rocking the looks. The internalized misogyny is kind of slowly dissapearing.

Apart from the guns she carries in each arm (I mean her biceps, have you looked at the size of those?? She strong) she has brass knuckles on her at all times. Glam gifts her new ones sometimes, she loves having multiple choices to punch people teeth in.

Loves horror, thrillers and action movies. Falls asleep during rom-coms and dramas. Ironically, loves gossip and talking shit about people. Enjoys hearing Ches talks about the gossip going on in the nursery home even if she doesn't know who the hell he's talking about.

Rest of the family under the cut!

Heavy

Heavy is a trans boy! He doesn't know his sexuality yet though, he's still figuring himself out. When he's older, i think he definitely dated some men but had better luck with girls.

Heavy has had innocent crushes on some girls on his class before, but they never turn into anything more cuz he's not the best at expressing himself. He follows the bother-the-girl-to-death-until-she-hates-you gimmick, and unsurprisingly, it doesn't work.

I'm sorry to break this to u but Heavy totally had an among us phase, and uses so much reddit and twitch slang... You know he does.

Likes bullying and teasing his brother to death. You know that when Dee had his first romance, Heavy was ALL up in his business being a tease and a bad attempt at a wingman. He means well tho.

He's not squeamish at all. Also has great pain resistance. This kid has picked cockroaches with his bare hands and loves cats, of course the cats have scratched him. He's tough!

Grows up to be the charming himbo he was always destined to be.

Dee

I hc him as demisexual. Kind of inherited his dad's tastes for the takes no crap, intimidating but pretty kind of people.

Can't cook. He tries but he can only do basics like rice, cereal, chicken nuggets or eggs. Complicated meals always burn or don't taste like anything at all. It drives him crazy.

Dee was a quiet and very well behaved toddler before Heavy was born. He never threw tantrums or got whims. After Heavy was born though, and despite the fact he understood his brother was small and needed special care, he started craving attention often and cried and got mad at little things. Typical jealousy of the oldest sibling.

The first time Dee fell in love with someone, he didn't recognize it was love at first. He just thought his interest on the person was born out of curiosity and aesthetic attraction, but as soon as he realized he seeked validation and companionship, that he liked seeing them smile, that he wanted to protect them, that he yearned for more time alone with them and that he wanted more than what just a simple friendship implied, it was an instant 'oh hell no'. He wanted those feelings to get the hell away, but unfortunately, they were there to stay.

Canonically likes MLP, psychological and horror anime like Death note and Hellsing, so I'm deciding he also watched Death Parade, had a FNAF phase, is very into The Walten Files. This guy enjoys any kind of specially dark ARG's and knows a ton of lore of real crime, unsolved cases, ghost appearances and other stuff. Doesn't believe in the supernatural, but sure is entertained by it.

He's a mess at romance. Flirting? His attempts at compliments are hardly flattering. Giving gifts? The best he can manage is jewelry and you can kind of tell he asked his dad for help. Dates? He's so nervous he's silent for most of it, but begins getting comfortable and having fun if his partner really knows how to get him down from his negativity cloud.

Ches

Pansexual.

He's very good with kids. He has the patience of a saint and he's laid-back, chill and fun but still is an authority figure who knows how to put limits. Sure, he's gonna let the kids light up a house on fire BUT hey, now they know everything about fire precautions, burns and how to treat them AND how to get away with arson. What an educational evening, am I right?

Due to certain info from the "Goodbye" official comic, I headcanon Ches as depressed. I don't want to elaborate a lot 'cuz of spoilers, but... God, everything related to his mom fucking hurts, man. How did he deal with all that?

Ches has been Dee and Heavy's babysitter so many times he cannot count them with all his fingers. He learned how to put those kids to sleep almost immediately (Sing Bon Jovi's "This ain't a love song" and any cheesy love song in a slow lullaby style and they're out), which movie were their favorite as kids (Heavy loved 'Monsters Inc.' and Dee never looked away during 'Meet the Robinsons'), how to console them after nightmares (Heavy needed reassurance, sweet words, and to be with someone until he fell asleep again. Dee just had to be tucked in, get his nightlight turned on and kissed in the forehead). He practically raised those kids along with Vicky and Glam.

More than once, Dee and Heavy have slipped and called Ches "Dad". Ches immediately gets his shit eating grin on and answers "Yes, son?" and does a couple of dad jokes just to mess and embarrass them. He's actually very flattered and surprised at how proud of himself he is for being a father figure to both kids.

Has a scar on the left side of his forehead due to a bottle his mom threw at him when he was younger, around the time he met Glam. He hates the scar with passion, it's a permanent reminder of the fact she never cared, that's why he always keeps it covered with his headband. Gets sad about it sometimes.

Ches likes to spend his time with a group of grannies of the nearby nursing home. He genuinely considers them his friends and gossips and hangs out with all of them on weekends. Bingo, billiards, walks in the park, soap opera marathons, you name it. I even designed them, gave them names and backstories... God, i just love the concept too much. I'll make some art about Ches and his granny gang FOR SURE, you're NOT ready for them.

Carries a pocket knife on him at all times. This man grew up on a bad neighborhood and absolutely knows how to defend himself, he can be intimidating when he wants to be and will pose a threat if needed. He's fucking terrifying when genuinely mad. Just cause he looks harmless doesn't mean he is, darling.

That would be all!

[aminiatureworld]

Interest II

Characters: Kaeya, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,020

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Sometimes emotions can be confusing. In those times it can be easier to shut down. After all, wouldn’t finding the truth out be scarier?

In which the reader assumes their character is disinterested, and pulls away.

Author’s Note: I wrote a lot tonight! It was nice to write for multiple characters again, made me feel like the good old days, or something. 

Hope I’m finally getting back on schedule and hope you enjoy!

Kaeya

If Kaeya flirted with you, he also flirted with all of Mondstadt; or so you kept telling yourself.

You liked the cavalry captain, you liked him a lot. It was easy to like him, as easy as breathing air. The thickets of romance, the awkward looks, the stilted conversations, the dying words. None of those things existed in Kaeya.

If there were roses there were thorns too, and though you tried to convince yourself that this emotion, this easiness was something good, there was a part of you that fought back at the idea. The reason things were so easy with Kaeya was because of one simple reason. He didn’t like you. Or not the way you liked him. Kaeya flirted with all of Mondstadt after all, and you were merely one library assistant in the middle of an entire country. Your existence wasn’t one for the history books. Not compared to the man that you’d managed to fall hopelessly in love with anyways.

At first you tried to ignore those voices, that cynical side of yourself that existed only, it seemed, to make you unhappy. You weren’t necessarily an optimist by nature, but you were a bit of a hopeless romantic, and flirting or not you at least hoped to get your point across. Delivering Kaeya’s library requests first, always going up to him at lunchtime to talk, even giving him a special gift for the Windbloom festival. You really did try, you didn’t think that the opposite could be argued. Still things continued on as relatively normal however, Kaeya’s flirting never seeming to grow particularly towards you. Eventually it became harder and harder to avoid the voice in your head sneering you were wasting your time. Or maybe you were just tired.

Either way the answer seemed to be obvious. You knew when the answer was to count your losses and move on, and surely this was one of those times. Kaeya wasn’t going to see you as a partner, he just wasn’t. That didn’t mean he wasn’t kind, or that your conversations with him weren’t lovely, or even that you weren’t still in love with him. Still, wasn’t it time to move on to kinder winds? You wanted a clean break, wanted an end to your painful waiting; didn’t want to experience that clench in your heart when you watched Kaeya flirting with someone else as the point just drove further and further home. You wanted reprieve, and the only way to do that was to admit the obvious. This wasn’t going to happen.

So you gave up, or did your best attempt at giving up. You still spoke to Kaeya, the gods knew you probably couldn’t stand not speaking to him. You still tried to keep as light as before, tried to retain the dynamic, for something was better than nothing. Yet your days of simply chasing after him were over, and as you settled into you schedule of new normalcy you found, though things weren’t necessarily easier, at least they seemed simpler. Besides, how much had really changed? Kaeya most likely didn’t notice.

“Kaeya, the manuscript you requested on Liyue trade history came in yesterday. There were also a few other things that came in, though Lisa told me they’re classified.”

“Oh Lisa, always a stickler for rules. Would you like to know what I requested?”

“Like you would actually tell me,” you snorted. “No, I’m fine. It’s none of my business.”

“Aw,” Kaeya pouted slightly, crossing his arms in front of him. He seemed to be doing that more often these days, though maybe you were simply imagining it. “Where’s your sense of adventure darling? You seemed to have lost it somewhere.”

“I’m just following rules,” you pointed out.

Something had shifted about the conversation at some point, and you were suddenly feeling an undercurrent that hadn’t been there before. Finding it uncomfortable you quickly removed the space between you and Kaeya, reaching out to place the brown paper wrapped books into his hands. Taking them Kaeya lifted an eyebrow. Turning around he went to put them on his desk.

The momentary reprieve in atmosphere you felt quickly died, as before you had time to turn around the cavalry captain was back, this time leaning closely towards you.

“What is it?” You asked. This was certainly Kaeya behavior, but it still startled you nonetheless.

“You’re acting funny.”

“What? I’m acting completely normal.”

“If you say so.”

But the tone conveyed that Kaeya didn’t agree one bit. A smirk painting his lips he turned around, though something bitter seemed to flash behind his eyes, and for a moment you wondered if he had somehow caught on to the secret you’d been hoping to keep to yourself.

After that things seemed to continue on as normal for a few weeks. If Kaeya’s books were secretly transgressive, they certainly weren’t doing anything actively, and life as an assistant librarian to the Knights of Favonius retained its languid, unhurried pace. Still a part of you had never forgotten about that weird snippet of conversation, one which was doing a surprisingly good job at eating away at you.

You were almost relieved when Kaeya brought the matter up again.

“Is something wrong darling?”

“You asked me that two weeks ago Kaeya.”

“Really? It’s been that long? I must be neglecting my duties,” he let out a careless sort of laugh, before his eyes steadied. “I was hoping that this time I might get a more honest answer.”

“So you think I’m lying to you when I’m saying nothing’s wrong?”

“Yes.”

“But I’m not! How could I be lying to both you and myself.”

“I find that doing such a thing is a surprisingly easy task. Nevertheless, even if you aren’t lying, there is something wrong.”

“And what would that thing be, Mr. Expert?” For some reason this conversation was aggravating you. Maybe because you couldn’t decide whether or not he was right.

“I don’t know, I was hoping you could tell me. I can’t say sorry for something I’m not aware of, I don’t know what I did. You do though. So the sooner you tell me what’s wrong the sooner things can go back to normal.”

“What do you mean by normal Kaeya? If anything this is more normal. Not that things have changed that much. I’m sorry I don’t deliver your books first, if that’s what you’re complaining about. But frankly, I don’t see what you’re so upset about? You’ve got plenty of other friends, so why are you complaining to me?”

Maybe it wasn’t your best use of logic, but your ability to circle around the focus of the conversation, the unspoken emotions that still burned through you, was somewhat lacking.

“This is not normal. I’m not talking about library books, I’m talking about friends. Or maybe avoidance. You’ve been avoiding me lately, even if you aren’t doing it completely. It wounds me, you know. My dearest companion, what did I do to earn their ire?”

“You did nothing.”

“That’s obviously a lie.”

“It’s not.”

“It is,” Kaeya voice was clipped, matching your same tone. Even now he was shifting himself to better fit the atmosphere in the room, something you normally valued so deeply.

“It’s not. It’s really not! That’s the problem Kaeya, don’t you see?” Tears that had threated the corners of your eyes were now burning across your vision, as your emotions finally broke through the paltry excuse for a dam you’d been building. “You’ve done nothing, you’ve never done anything. You’re always nice, and flirty, and a bit shameless. And that’s fine! It’s not your fault that you don’t feel like I feel for you. I don’t want to make you feel guilty. You flirt with everyone, and that’s fine. I don’t care! I really don’t. I don’t want to burden you. Still, can’t you just let me feel upset by it? Can’t you just let me give up? Do you know how painful it is not to give up? Why won’t you let me at least do that, but no! Instead you come in here talking about how everything’s different, as if I’ve offended you, or as if you worry would change anything. Of course it won’t! And it shouldn’t! But damn it Kaeya, I just want to be upset!”

By this time Kaeya had closed the space between you two, wrapping his arms around you and running soft, slightly cool, fingers through your hair. You nestled into him, despite yourself. You were so tired and so angry, and right now it didn’t really seem to matter who you cried on as long as you were crying on someone. Letting yourself be carried away by your emotions you let your ragged breathing unleash itself inside the walls of Kaeya’s office.

Eventually you calmed down. Though you expected Kaeya to step away when your breathing evened out, instead he remained there, continuing to run comforting fingers though you hair, his other hand gently cradling your shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that was the reason.” It was simple, direct. Undeniably Kaeya.

“What else would be the reason,” you grumbled.

“I don’t know. It’s why I asked. Thank you for answering me.”

“You forced me into it.” There was no true venom behind your words. You were sure Kaeya knew that.

“Is there anything you want to tell me?”

“No.”

“Not yet?”

You shook your head. “Not yet.”

“That’s alright. Now’s not the best time anyways, since I ought to look my best. Not that I don’t look amazing already, but I should dress up for an occasion such as that. Still, I hope that eventually you’ll allow yourself to live in a way that doesn’t make you unhappy. Sometimes we can’t do that. This time you can.”

“Maybe.”

“Good. I’ll be waiting for you darling, and you know how impatient I am.”

“What if you have to wait for a long time?” You were feeling quite contrary.

“Then I’ll wait. After all, I’ll have quite the reward for my patience.”

You smiled into Kaeya. Despite yourself, you knew it wouldn’t be that long.

 Xiao

With Xiao, the question was always boundaries. How far is too far? How far is not far enough? It was an endless maze, even if it was a maze you would gladly continue to explore, sure that the light at the end must lead to something truly beautiful. Still, you didn’t exactly need your emotions to come in and complicate something already so difficult to navigate.

At first you tired to ignore, to take a page from the book the yaksha you’d so hopelessly fallen for had written. Yet if was much harder than it ought to be, for loving Xiao seemed to come as naturally as breathing, and no amount of looking for faults seemed to be doing much to change that. After all, everyone has faults, and nothing could change the innate goodness you saw in Xiao, the wonder and light that he carried with him, despite his millennia of hardships.

At first you thought to tell him, to cross that border, find that boundary and test it with all the patience it had taken to test and cross those other boundaries.

“Xiao?”

“Mmm.”

“I, I have something to tell you.”

“What?”

“I, I made you some Almond Tofu!”

Xiao let his eyes widen with characteristic surprise, before leaping down nimbly from his perch to take the dish you brought out from behind your back. You watched as he ate it happily, warmth running through your veins. Nevertheless a part of you cried in frustration, perhaps even pain, for you knew you had failed to do what you had set out to do.

It wasn’t simply that you feared losing Xiao’s friendship, feared losing his respect. It was the boundaries, those invisible lines you were so careful not to step over. Xiao needed those boundaries, you knew he did. Though he had told you very little about his past, what he had told was horrific, and you hardly doubted that Xiao’s survival, his failure to spin into madness, was because of those walls he’d carefully constructed around himself. You wanted him to shed those walls yes, to slowly emerge from the darkness which he held around himself. But you weren’t ready to push him to do so, or not very much at least. It wasn’t truly in your nature to do so anyways.

So you expressed your feelings as best you could, with tofu and flowers and all the kindness you had to offer. When you weren’t working, spending your time sewing for a high-end Liyue shop, you were with Xiao. A part of you assumed that it would be enough, that if you gave Xiao enough of your time and enough of your attention the barriers would magically break down. One day you’d wake up and they’d be gone and you’d be happy, having never pushed things too far.

As nothing truly seemed to change however you grew slowly discouraged. You weren’t really aware of your flagging hopes, not really. It was more that you were busy, you were so busy. Besides, Xiao hadn’t expressed much sadness over losing your company. Perhaps he was secretly relieved, perhaps you had pushed too far at some point and he hadn’t told you. Maybe it was best that you give his boundaries time, and not push it too far.

Even looking back it was hard not to call the logic sound, or at least sound to you. In some ways you and Xiao were cut of the same cloth, and though that brought with it an understanding, it also brought its own set of issues. Neither of you were willing to walk over the line that the other drew, even if you could not see where they had actually drawn it. Even if not doing so was painful, the fear of what pain might come if you did was too great a discouragement.

So you began to slowly fade away, without being entirely aware that you were indeed doing so. You were busy after all, and Xioa was most likely too. He was still a yaksha after all, a being whose life was almost completely disconnected from your own. Surely it wouldn’t be that surprising if his views were similar? Maybe you truly had crossed a line, and that was why he never seemed to enquire after you. Or maybe it was that you hadn’t mattered all that much in the first place.

It was a wet, cold autumn day. You sighed slightly as you unlocked your door, having gotten drenched by protecting a bold of fabric you were bringing home to cut and pin. Letting out a huff, you opened the door and went to take a nap. You must’ve been tired, for it took a few seconds for the screech of surprise to leave you mouth at the sight of the unexpected intruder waiting for you.

“Xiao! You scared me!”

You stared at the yaksha, very much surprised by the sight of him. Your surprise had very little time to register though, being quickly replaced by concern for the storm so clearly gathering in Xiao’s eyes.

“You were gone for so long.”

“I’m sorry Xiao. It’s just been so busy you know, everyone’s preparing for the change in season. Besides…”

“Besides?”

“I didn’t want to bother you. I mean, I know you also have a job, and though I want you to find happiness outside of it, I don’t want to pressure you.”

Xiao’s facial expressions evidently conveyed that he was not impressed. Searching for the right words you let your gaze drift towards the floor. You weren’t sure that you were ever going to be ready for a conversation like this, but certainly not in the state you were now. Still, you owed Xiao some sort of explanation. Of course you did.

“I’m really sorry Xiao. I should have found time for you. It’s completely my fault.”

“That’s not what I want.” Xiao’s tone was gruff, frustrated. You found the frustration mirrored within yourself.

“What do you want?”

“I,” Xiao flushed. “I don’t want you to apologize. I’m not blaming you for anything. You shouldn’t apologize for nothing.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

Xiao shook his head. For a moment he just stood there, eyes stormy. Slowly though he reached out to take your hand. You found the act surprisingly comforting. You had missed Xiao’s hands, delicately built, calloused beyond believe. They felt comforting and warm and safe, and you wished you could never let go of them. Drawing strength from that you slowly raised your gaze slightly.

“What do you want, Xiao?”

At first Xiao said nothing. Perhaps he was staring at a line, contemplating whether to cross it. You had half the mind to apologize again, but managed to stop the words from coming out. You knew that it was just a force of habit. Besides, Xiao hadn’t said anything yet. A small spark of hope burned inside you, the hope that something might go well.

There was a gentle tug on your wrist and suddenly you were in Xiao’s arms, his hair gently tickling your nose.

“This,” he mumbled. “I want this.”

For a moment you felt yourself freeze in shock, but soon enough you found yourself melting into his embrace, wrapping your own arms around him. Xiao was warm like a heater, warm beyond that too. It was as if there was something in his soul. Gentle, flickering, it brought you happiness that you never thought you could imagine. You wanted to bask in it forever, it was worth any twists and turns you might have to take to reach it.

“Don’t disappear again.”

“I won’t.”

“I should have come earlier.”

“It’s alright. Hey, Xiao?”

“What?” Xiao’s arms tightened around you slightly. You didn’t want to talk much more either.

“What do you think of me?”

Xiao let out a soft snort. “I thought that was pretty obvious.”

“What?”

“I love you.”

It was more than you could have ever hoped for.

[untaemedqueen]

Third Wheeling

CEO!Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 32 (Final Chapter).

Warnings (Updating Still): Smut, Cheating, Unexpected Pregnancy, Unfaithful, Emotional Damage, Love

Warnings For This Chapter: Daddy Kink, Degradation, Hand Job, Lactation Kink, Milk Drinking, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Pregnant Sex, Unprotected Sex, Riding, Begging, Praise, Spanking

A/N: This is the FINAL, FINAL chapter.... Wah, can you believe it? This is so crazy! I'm so so happy that everyone has enjoyed Third Wheeling so much! Thank you to my forevers @xjoonchildx​, @ladyartemesia​ and @ppersonna​ for being behind me on everything about this series

The sharp whistle that Yoongi chirps, bleeds through the living room of the mansion.

His two year old son turns to him with round, curious eyes. His small hand is outstretched trying to pick up the million dollar vase you have on display on the coffee table.

"What're you doing, my little troublemaker?"  Yoongi murmurs, wrapping his arms around his son and throwing him up in the air.

Honggi squeals loudly, curling his arms around his father's neck like needy vines.

"Maya, please move that vase before Y/N has a fit." Yoongi whispers to the woman he's always admired.

"Yes, Sir." she giggles.

"Dada," Honggi squeals into his neck and Yoongi's heart clenches at the sound.

"Yes, bud?" he inquires, tilting his head to look down at his son.

"Hungry." his son breathes.

"Mommy's making food, let's go see." Yoongi chirps, running his large hand over his son's small back.

Taking in the new mansion, Yoongi is really happy with it.

He didn't bring over a special architect from Greece, he didn't fawn over the marble this time around. He let you pick the house.

And like always, you're incredible.

The house isn't particularly gaudy like the last one which he shared with his ex-wife. It's warm wooden interior and gray and white furnishings scream home. And that's what Yoongi always needed -- a home.

Although, anywhere with you is home, he's noticed.

The wings that spread out far and wide throughout the house have pieces of art that make Yoongi feel comforted and he's astounded everyday by how thoughtful you are.

"Mama!" Honggi screams and it rips your husband out of his daydream.

"Uh oh, here comes trouble." you sing, slinging your towel over your shoulder.

You extend your arms over the quartz island for your son and Yoongi is incredibly cautious.

"Be careful, please," he begs.

You give him a sweet nod, accepting your son into your arms and Honggi leans over the pot curiously.

"Cow?" he asks and you snort loudly.

"Yes, beef." you reply, wiping his chin with your thumb.

"B-Beef," he repeats and Yoongi beams.

Honggi isn't one to stay in anyone's arms for long, despite how much he adored being held as a newborn. He wriggles almost immediately to get down and Yoongi takes a sharp breath between his teeth cautiously.

"Watch mommy's belly, please." he yelps, setting your son on the floor.

"Jesus," he bleats, kissing your cheek.

"It's okay," you promise him, bending down to fix your son's black hair.

Honggi hugs your neck tightly, kissing your cheek so sweetly that it turns you into a puddle of love.

"What should we name your brother and sister?" Yoongi inquires of your son as he leans both elbows down on the island.

He pops a grape in his mouth, looking at his kid expectantly.

"Pororo... Poby!" Honggi giggles, swaying back and forth.

"Oh yeah, good idea! We can name them after penguins!" Yoongi teases, giving his son a grape.

"Poby is a polar bear." you inform him, stirring the stew.

"Yeah daddy! Bear!" Honggi scoffs, tugging on Yoongi's pants playfully.

"Oh, I'm sorry daddy doesn't know what anthropomorphic animals his son watches while he's at work." your husband murmurs.

"An-Anth-Anthr… Animals!" Honggi gasps and you laugh gently.

Yoongi takes a deep breath through his nose, allowing the comfort of being surrounded by his family to enrapture him.

He steps behind you, wrapping his arms around you and your growing stomach.

"I missed you today, little dove." he breathes, kissing your temple.

"You miss me everyday," you state, turning around in his grasp.

"That's true. Because I love you." he coos, pushing some hair back behind your ear.

"I love you too," you giggle, accepting the kiss he gives you.

Since Yoongi became a father he's learned so many things like patience and showing love to his child, the likes of which his younger self never got to see. He wants to give his family the entire world if he can, he wants to give all of you everything you could possibly desire because it was so terribly lacking when he was a kid.

"Dinner isn't going to be ready for a bit." you tell your family.

"But I'm hungry now!" Honggi cries, throwing his head back in a dramatic two year old fashion that both of his parent's laugh at.

"Okay. We'll have yogurt and go play with the Gaesu until Mommy is done cooking." Yoongi announces, picking up his son and slinging him over his shoulder.

"I love you mommy!" Honggi squeals.

"I love you too, bub." you reply, kissing his forehead.

"Give mommy's belly a kiss before we go." your husband instructs, patting his son's backside.

Honggi kisses your growing stomach and you can only snort at your husband's silliness.

"Okay. Now dada!" your son says, clapping.

The CEO kisses your stomach and then your forehead.

"You're gonna wrinkle your suit." you chide him, leaning back against the counter.

"So worth it." he retorts, giving you a gummy smile.

Two years have flown by in the blink of an eye.

There has, of course, been hard work that's been poured into your marriage whether it be for Honggi or just to be able to spend time together but the honeymoon phase has never truly died down.

You bask in each other's company like lizards under the hot sun.

You thrive when you're both together.

It's fate, really.

"He's asleep," Yoongi announces, stepping into your bedroom.

"Oh, nice. It only took two hours instead of three like yesterday." you know you sound sarcastic but it's really true. Honggi never seems to be able to sleep when he needs to, he's hyperactive in waves and thoroughly enjoys spending time with his father.

"Well tonight we read the big bad wolf and then he got scared so I had to calm him down and stay with him until he finally fell asleep." your husband rambles, peeling off his clothes.

You hum in agreement, sitting up gently.

Yoongi's tattoo of the large family tree on his bicep seems to shine in the dull lights of the room and it makes a smile spread over your face.

"How are my other babies?" he inquires, laying down beside you on the bed.

It's no secret that you adored your son and it's no secret that Yoongi wanted you pregnant almost immediately after Honggi was born. He missed your big belly and the closeness it brought the both of you when you were pregnant. But after Honggi was born, your paintings were flying off the art exhibit walls like hot cakes and you needed time to create new works of art.

While your husband had his tantrums and gripes about it, he understood. Being pregnant is difficult and he knows that, so when you told him he had to wait, he begrudgingly accepted it.

Your art was on hold now, with over two hundred pieces out in the world at any given second, you decided to focus on family.

"They're okay," you promise, running your fingers through your hair.

You can remember when you found out you were pregnant again for the second time. All of your symptoms hit so much harder than the first pregnancy.

"Baby? We gotta go. We're gonna be late." Yoongi calls, peeking into the bathroom.

He didn't expect to find you heaving over the toilet but when he does, two things happen simultaneously. There's a sharp bout of worry and a thinner vein of excitement that spread through his bones.

"What's the matter, my dove? You feel sick?" he pouts, entering the bathroom to rub at your back.

You shiver gently, waving your hand to the large gray cabinets beneath your sinks.

"I'm not a mime, I'm sorry." your husband whispers, raising an eyebrow.

"Pr-Pregnancy test," you plead.

He could just about pass out and die from happiness from those two words.

"Really?! You think so?!" he beams, ripping open the doors and tearing open the cardboard box like some sort of rabid animal.

His hands are shaky when he gives you the test and he helps you off of your knees immediately.

His thumbs rub at the tile indentations on your kneecaps and like always he stares up at you like you hang the moon on a string for him each and every night.

"I'm sorry we're late." you whisper, blotting your mouth with toilet paper.

"This is way more important. Fuck that. Jeongguk can wait." Yoongi avows, watching you cap the pregnancy test.

"We probably aren't even going to make it there anyway," your husband breathes.

"Why not?" you inquire, standing up and smoothing out the skirt of your dress.

The CEO wraps his arms around you, burying his face into your neck. "Because if you are pregnant, I'm gonna have to do some celebratory stuff."

You laugh aloud, running your fingers over his arms. "Stuff like what?"

"Like eating your pretty pregnant pussy and fucking your pregnant cunt." he murmurs against your skin.

You shiver at his words, glancing down at the test.

You hope you are pregnant. There's something insane in women's brains which makes them forget just how painful childbirth is so they can always look forward to more.

But the euphoric feeling of having a baby is well worth the pain, that's something you'll always remember.

"God, I think you are pregnant." he hisses, running his hands over your sides.

"Why do you say that?" you ask, tilting your head to look at him.

"You just feel different in my hands."

"I think you're crazy," you retort with a laugh.

"Why?!" he gasps.

"Because you didn't say anything yesterday when we… y'know."

"When we fucked?" he goads, kissing you softly.

You hum in agreement against his lips and he snorts softly.

"You did feel warmer around me." he announces, hooking his chin over your shoulder.

"It should be ready." you inform him, both of your eyes glued to the face down stick.

"Go on, show me that my baby is in you." he urges, kissing your temple.

Your heart races and your fingers begin to shake as you flip over the stick.

Yoongi holds his breath and you find yourself doing the same.

When you flip it over, the plus sign screams at you and Yoongi breathes a sigh of relief.

Your husband groans happily, picking you up off the ground and spinning you around.

"Thank you baby, thank you!" he cheers.

When he sets you down on the ground, you can't help the thrilled giggle that seeps from you.

"Should we head out?" you ask your husband softly.

The scoff he gives only seems right. "Yeah, right. I have more important things to celebrate than a boxing match."

You can only squeal when he scoops you up bridal style.

Putting his head on your shoulder, your husband takes a deep, calming breath.

His fingertips dance over your distended skin and his lips traipse over your exposed collarbone.

"You're so gorgeous," he breathes, letting his eyes flutter shut.

The smirk that spreads over your face is goofy and flushed, sometimes you find it astounding that he can even be so sweet with you.

There's a tiny kick beneath his fingertips that makes his head lift off of your body.

"What are you up to in there, guys? Fighting or something?" he gawks, feeling another flurry of taps below his hand.

"They don't have enough room," you announce, lolling your head back to the pillow.

"Well, just four more months and you won't have to be cramped anymore." Yoongi promises, sliding down the bed to kiss your belly.

"We should sleep, we have plans for tomorrow."

"Caleb's first birthday party." Yoongi remembers, drifting his lips over your skin.

You nod in agreement, tucking your hand beneath your head to get comfy.

Your husband knows just how difficult it is for a woman with a set of twins inside of her to fall asleep and he's nothing if not doting.

"Lemme put my babies to sleep," he murmurs, sliding his fingers over the soft skin of your inner thighs.

It's fascinating how the Kisung CEO can make you feel as if black coffee pumps through your veins even when you're completely exhausted.

He watches you avidly, making sure this is something you're up for. When your nipples begin to pebble and strain under the flimsy nightgown that can barely contain your swollen flesh, Yoongi knows he's got the green light.

His eyelids lower with lustful intentions and the tip of his tongue glides slowly over his plump bottom lip.

He knows you're excited for anything and everything when your hips lift expectantly.

Clicking his teeth, he pushes your body back down to the bed. "Easy now, little dove. You should know who's in charge here, baby."

Your whimper sounds like the most earnest plea as it passes through your parted lips and Yoongi can feel his cock straining against his briefs for some semblance of relief.

He kisses at your clothed pussy, already feeling how sodden the material is getting in a matter of seconds.

It continues to astound him, two years in, how willing your body is for him.

"Daddy," you breathe softly, carding your fingers through his hair.

His hands caress whatever he can find whether it be your thighs, your belly, your breasts.

"Wet little slut for me." he murmurs, tugging your panties off with his teeth.

You're quick to discard your nightgown, wanting nothing more to be touched anywhere you can get it.

Your husband hums at the sight of your core, pussy lips puffy and swollen with greedy intentions and slick with arousal.

"There she is," he breathes, kissing over your belly.

Palming your breasts in hand, you understand why he's taking so long -- to drive you insane.

He wants euphoria and adrenaline to course through you like wildfire so when it ebbs away, you'll be completely exhausted.

"My beautiful dove." Yoongi professes, spreading your legs wider.

Your eyes are glued to his abs, the way the muscles contort and constrict with each shallow breath he breathes.

You can thank each and every god everyday for the man you're married to.

You know the hierarchy in this bedroom, it rarely ends up with you on top, but the temptation of his thick, hard cock straining against his Balenciaga briefs has you throwing all cares to the wind.

He hisses gently against your distended skin when you cup his long length with your hand.

Yoongi will be the first to admit that he's missed this. He's been sweet and caring, not wanting to trouble you for sex with you being as huge as you are. He knows two babies are way more difficult than just Honggi. But, he needs you. In every single way.

"Play nice, my dove." he chides you softly, kissing up your belly to your swollen breasts.

You don't heed his words, tugging down the band of his briefs and swallowing thickly when his large cock bobs in the air before smacking up to his toned honey stomach.

His eyes flutter shut at the feeling and you know you've neglected him for too long. His cock is throbbing and needy as sin, beads of precum endlessly spurting from the top and slowly traipsing down the head.

"Baby girl," he gasps when you pump his cock in hand.

Yoongi kisses over your puffy nipples, scoffing at the pleasure that vibrates through him with each jerk.

He coos softly when you bead milk for him and his eyes snap to yours. "You didn't tell me your milk came in."

"I-I didn't know," you chirp, pumping his cock harder.

He shivers then, wrapping his lips around your peaked nub and tugging softly. He groans happily at the distantly familiar taste of your milk and his needy hands grip and massage your thighs as he situates himself further between them.

"Daddy, fuck!" you cry out gently, arching your back.

The tip of your husband's tongue is quick against your sensitive skin and you can only whimper for more.

Your shaking thumb runs circles over the swollen, red mushroom head of his cock and he gasps above you, pressing his forehead into your breast.

"Ba-Baby, this is about you. Please," he begs, wrapping his hand around your wrist.

You give a smirk, feeling high and mighty at how quickly you can break him down to a mere lustful animal.

Your free hand rubs circles to your stomach and he can just about cum at the sight of you.

His cock throbs wildly and he forces your hand off of him with narrowed eyes. "Behave, little dove. I won't say it again."

You hide your smirk, laying back down for him.

He eyes you wearily for a second before continuing his dissent on your body. His fingers caress over your sodden lower lips and his name tumbles from your mouth with a quickness.

"You're messy." he prods, spreading your lips with his fingers and tapping your throbbing bundle of nerves with the pads of his fingers.

Your body jolts, bottom lip tucking between your teeth.

God, you've missed this.

You've missed him doting on you so eagerly.

Yoongi continues to take his time, enjoying how your entrance clenches around nothing.

You're a needy little thing and you're all his. The way it should be.

"Daddy, please!" you beg, rubbing circles over your distended skin.

"What's wrong, beautiful? You're too much of a slut to enjoy this? You want gratification now?" he quips, lowering his head to your core.

You can't even see him over your belly and it drives you absolutely mad. You can feel the puffs of hot, needy breath that pass his lips but it does nothing but earn more dripping arousal from your center.

"Such a pretty pussy you have," he purrs, suckling your swollen lips.

You gasp loudly, screwing your eyes shut.

He plays with your entrance, swirling the tip of his index finger around it until your racking with sobs above him.

Yoongi presses the tip of his tongue to your throbbing clit and he groans gently at the feeling.

"Shhh, my dove. Daddy is going to take care of you, I promise." he avows, lapping at your nub with slow strokes.

It's so pleasurable, but it's not enough. You're on the precipice and he keeps you there for what feels like eternity.

"God! Daddy, please!" you beg, bunching your hands up in his hair and tugging.

He hums in fake confusion, adoring how your body shakes before him.

He's good at the long game.

He thrives in it.

When he slips two fingers inside of your slick cunt, you're about ready to burst but he pulls away from your core with a devilish smirk.

"My pregnant wife is so needy," he jeers, curling his fingers with ease to the soft patch of nerves within you.

Your chest constricts, heaving for breath. Your skin develops a thin sheen of sweat and you feel yourself possibly going insane within his grasp.

Picking his face up between the apex of your thighs, the sight of his soaked chin and cheeks hurdles you to the precipice.

"Wanna cum, need to cum!" you chant, cupping your belly while you grind yourself down onto his fingers.

"You hold it," he orders sweetly.

You can only scoff and the animalistic pride within you snaps.

You sit up, as quickly as you can, before pushing him down on the bed.

"Baby," he warns you, pulling his fingers from your heat and entering them into his mouth.

"I need it!" you whine, straddling him.

His hands immediately hold your hips to protect you from any imminent danger you might face. He goes to chide you but when your soaked cunt glides against his hard, thick length, he can only take a sharp breath between his teeth.

"I missed your cock Daddy, I missed it so much," you whine, rocking your hips.

"Oh Christ," he murmurs, gliding his hands from your hips to the globes of your ass.

With every rock of your hips, your clit thrums pleasantly at the feeling of the head of his cock prodding against the bundle of nerves.

Your shaky hands grip at your breasts, swiping your thumbs against your leaking nipples until your sobbing with pleasure.

"You're so gorgeous, fuck," Yoongi curses, enraptured with the sight above him.

Your eyebrows furrow and you're losing yourself in the pleasure as your mouth drops open.

His hands knead at the supple flesh of your backside before rearing back and spanking you with a fierceness that you adore.

"Yes, more!" you gasp, sitting up and positioning his cock at your entrance.

"You're a little cock slut, you know that?" he seethes, leaning up on his elbows to kiss at your belly.

"Your cock slut, Daddy. I'm yours," you whimper, slowly sitting down on his length.

His mouth opens at the euphoric feeling of your warm, wet cunt sliding down on him and he can only fall back to the bed with a heady thump.

"Shit," he breathes out, looking up at you like you give him the universe.

You do.

You give him everything and anything that exceeds his expectations.

You take a second to adjust to his length, preening as the head of his cock prods against your soft cervix.

"Good girl, little dove." he bleats, running his fingertips over your outer thighs.

Yoongi can see the way you swallow thickly and he can tell how fucked out you already are with your eyelids being as heavy as they are and pride blooms in his chest.

"Want you to suckle," you beg, palming your breasts.

He can only scoff at the arousing thought, he's up in a flash, minding your stomach. His lips pluck and suckle at your sensitive skin until you're shaking like a leaf under his ministrations.

"Your cock feels so big in my pussy, feels so good," you purr, rocking your hips.

He moans against your breast, gripping your hips with needy hands.

The rhythm you set as he suckles from you is slow but the impending orgasm you've been denied comes back in waves. The head of his cock taps against the sweet spot inside of you with each jolt of your hips and you're losing your grasp on reality.

"D-Daddy!" you gasp, letting your brain free of any thoughts besides just how pleasurable he feels inside of you.

"That's it, baby girl. Take it. Take what you need from me." he announces, laying back down.

Your hands push down on his chest as you begin to pick up speed and he can only cry out your name like a man possessed.

"Jesus, just like that, little dove. Fuck!" he curses, spanking the globes of your ass until your skin is smarting.

Then you feel the precipice again, you feel yourself teetering.

Your mouth opens to give a silent scream and your eyes well up with tears.

He coos softly, running his fingers through his hair as if the pleasure he's receiving is truly unbelievable.

You groan loudly, pressing your hands beneath your stomach. "I'm-I'm-"

"Cum for me, little dove. I can feel how badly your cunt wants to milk my cock. Cum." he orders and your gasp echoes throughout the room.

Your hands rub comforting circles to your stomach while your hips rock at an unfound speed.

"Yoongi!" you cry, squeezing your eyes shut.

Then -- euphoria.

Your orgasm explodes within you like a million shards of glass. With deafened ears and tear streaked cheeks, you don't even feel your husband lay you down on your back.

He fucks his cock so deeply inside of you that it brings you back to reality in waves.

"God, you look so beautiful taking what's yours, baby." he coos, sitting up.

You can only cry out gently when his strokes become erratic and deeper.

"You want me to cum inside you? You want to drip with me?" he inquires, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth.

You nod incessantly, spreading your legs wider when you feel his cock throb within you.

"Yeah? You want to be my little cum slut? Get so full of my cum when you're already pregnant with my babies?" he seethes through his teeth.

"Y-Yes, want to feel your cum so badly," you hiccup, running your hands over his chest.

His eyes screw shut when your hips meet his every stroke.

"Oh fuck, I'm cumming. God, your cunt is incredible!" he whines.

His hips give one last thrust, burying himself as deeply as possible before the warmth of his cum floods through your battered core.

You hum happily, rubbing your belly.

"I love you," he whispers, bending down and planting a passionate kiss to your lips.

"I love you, too." you reply, hooking your hand around the back of his neck.

After cleaning you up and situating yourselves back to normal, Yoongi pulls your body to cuddle against his. His fingers drift over your bare back and he sighs happily.

You're out like a light in mere seconds when you finally get comfy and he can only chuckle at your shallow breaths.

His hand comes to rest beneath his head and he can't begin to express how lucky he feels.

His attention falters to your stomach when he feels a gentle prodding against his hip. He smirks, kissing the top of your forehead and closing his eyes.

"Mama!" Honggi screams and you know better now than to rush to him whenever he shouts for you.

"Yes, baby?" you call to him, fixing your earrings.

"Want to play with Yumi!" he calls, peeking into your bedroom.

"We're going to see Yumi now." you reply, turning to him.

Your eyebrow raises as you look at your husband's spitting image. "Where are your shoes?" you ask your two year old.

"Dada said I don't have to wear them!" he beams, rolling on the floor with your corgi.

"Oh yes you do, you're not going over to Aunt Leena's house with no shoes on." you reply.

When your husband steps into the doorway, he knows he's made a mistake. Just the look you give him makes him want to run and hide.

"What?" he bleats.

Min Yoongi is obsessed with giving his son whatever he wants. He's obsessed with spoiling him and sometimes you have to look like the bad guy.

"He needs to put on shoes." you tell your husband.

Both of your boys frown at you and it's almost so ridiculous that you can barely contain the eye roll.

"Why?" Honggi chirps.

When you place your hand on your stomach, Yoongi nods. "Mommy's right, you need to wear shoes."

He's quick to avoid chastisement today.

"But why, dada?" your son inquires.

You love the 'why' phase… when it's directed at your husband.

"Because your little feet are gonna be cold and because mommy said so. And what did I tell you about when mommy says something?" your husband whispers conspiratorially to your son.

"That you do it! Mama has two babies a-and mad isn't good for babies!" Honggi says, sticking up two small fingers.

You can only snort, shutting the bathroom light off and leaning against the door frame.

"That's right, bud. So let's get you some shoes."

When your husband goes to leave the room, he widens his eyes apologetically at you and you can't help but giggle.

"Silly," you mumble, grabbing your purse.

Caleb's first birthday is a huge deal.

You know how much work his mother put into it and you know that it needs to be over the top and perfect for her to be thriving and happy with the day's events.

"Miss Thing!" Leena gasps, throwing herself out of the door to hug you.

"Hi Beena," you giggle, wrapping your arms around her.

Taehyung is right behind her with a smile plastered on his face.

"Happy birthday Caleb!" you gasp, taking him from Taehyung's arms.

Yoongi kisses your best friend on the cheek before looking over at her one year old son.

"Hey buddy! Happy birthday!" your husband cheers, watching as Caleb tucks his face into your neck.

It's always astounding to see how much of a one eighty Leena has done when it comes to Taehyung and her family.

You remember how adamant she was on not getting pregnant and not getting married but then when you gave birth to Honggi -- she wanted that.

And you completely understood it.

Now that your best friend is married and having a family, you can see how content and happy she is. It's something you're really proud of.

"Everyone is in the backyard." Leena announces, fixing Caleb's small suit.

"Yumi?!" Honggi screeches, looking past Taehyung.

"Yeah, Yumi too." Leena's husband quips with a laugh.

Yoongi snorts, following after his son.

"Miss Thing, I have to tell you, I would have never in a million years thought we'd see him today." your best friend blurts, guiding you into her mansion.

"Who?" you inquire, handing Caleb back to his father.

Leena's hands clamp down on your shoulders and her eyes widen. "Jin."

"Shut the fuck up," you gasp, pulling her towards the backyard.

There are a multitude of people in the backyard but your eyes find his tall, handsome stature easily.

He's standing by the fountain with his wife by his side and he looks in his element.

It's been months since you've seen your other best friend.

You aren't really sure why he dropped off the face of the Earth. You know he's probably been busy, you all have been.

But you know Leena has taken it the hardest. Jin has always meant something deeply to her so when he didn't return phone calls or texts… you know it burned her.

It's almost as if he feels your eyes on him the way he turns to look at you.

He gives you a warm smile, immediately leaving his wife to make his way across the large backyard.

Yoongi notices how your eyes get glassy when he looks away from Honggi and Jimin's daughter, Yumi. "Jimin, watch him." he orders, leaving to comfort you.

Now, Yoongi doesn't hate Jin, by any means. He respects him and in all honesty, appreciates him for helping him in his dire time of need.

But the CEO will be damned if he doesn't coddle you, his pregnant wife, to his side when you're emotionally distraught.

Seokjin is wary when he sees your husband loop his hand around your hip protectively.

"Shhh," Yoongi coos, hearing your gentle sniffles.

Leena on the other hand, just folds her arms, widening her eyes expectantly at your best friend.

"Hey guys," he bleats, running his hand over the back of his neck.

"That's it? All we get is a 'hey guys' from you?" Leena scoffs.

Jin blushes furiously, cupping his whisky tighter in his hand. "What do you want me to say, Beena?"

"How about a sorry, Kim Seokjin? That'll be the start. Then you can veer off into how apologetic you are for pushing us into the background for her." Leena sneers, nodding her head to Sera.

You take in how nervous Jin is and you absolutely hate it. You hate how small he's making himself look.

"I am sorry." he agrees, grabbing for your hands.

"Maybe you guys should take this inside," Taehyung whispers, looking over the party guests who have stopped their conversations to look over at all of you.

Leena doesn't even give an answer, only trudging back into her mansion with narrowed eyes.

Taehyung clears his throat awkwardly, walking with his son towards Jimin and Anna.

"Do you want me to stay?" Yoongi inquires, brushing some hair back behind your ear.

You nod immediately, wanting the comfort of your husband with you.

"Alright, my love." he promises, kissing your temple.

Seokjin chases after Leena and you can only sigh at the impending yelling you're about to hear.

"Miss Thing, please sit." Leena gushes, pointing to the couch inside the library.

You take a seat, watching Jin wade back in forth nervously like he's waiting for a scolding.

"Did you know that Y/N is pregnant again? That she's having twins?" Leena spits.

"Yes, I did. I'm very happy for her and her husband." Seokjin replies, helping you sit down.

Yoongi pours himself a small glass of scotch, draping his arm over your shoulders.

"Do you fucking understand how sorely you've been missed?" Leena inquires to the handsome man as she sits down across from you.

Seokjin clears his throat awkwardly. "Yeah, I-I do."

"Then where have you been?" you prod, folding your arms.

Your best friend leans back against the large wooden desk. "Listen guys, I've missed you guys so deeply. I need you to know this, okay? I'm sorry that I've been absent from your kids and your lives. I've been dying to spend time with you all."

"Okay. Then where have you been?!" Leena yelps, repeating your question.

Jin takes a deep breath, letting his eyes flutter shut. "I've been trying to start my own family. It's not easy! I've been taking Sera all over the world to different doctors and hospitals to try and see why she can't get pregnant! I've been depressed and down on myself until recently. I'm fucking sorry I abandoned you guys but I needed time to heal my heart."

The news resounds in your ears and you cuddle closer to your husband who rubs your shoulder with his thumb soothingly.

The smugness is wiped off of Leena's face within a second.

"Why didn't you tell us?" she whispers softly.

Jin's fingers card through his hair and with a frustrated huff, he lolls his head back.

"Because it's…it's heartbreaking and not what I want to bring to the table when you guys have families and lives already. I don't want to burden you guys with my troubles." he mumbles, spinning his wedding band with his thumb.

You take a sharp breath between your teeth, standing with the help of your husband who urges you to be careful.

"Jin," you whisper, hugging him tightly.

He stiffens at your touch before wrapping his arms around you. He sobs gently, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

"I did miss you guys, so much. I'm sorry," he cries loudly.

"You don't have to hide your feelings from us. You should feel comfortable to tell us anything and everything. I'm sorry if you didn't trust us enough with your worries." you murmur into his ear.

"No! I just… I was scared, I didn't want to trouble you both." he breathes, pulling away and cupping your face.

"Jinnie," Leena pouts, standing up and hugging the both of you.

"You're never a bother to us, don't ever think that." you coo, fixing his hair.

He takes a deep, calming breath, running his hands over your belly. "One of your kids is kicking me in the ribs." he mumbles.

You can only giggle, patting your eyes with a tissue.

"That's the least you deserve for not trusting us with your fears," Leena scolds him gently.

He nods, exhaling sharply until his cheeks are puffing out.

"So is she?" your best friend asks him.

"What?" he mumbles.

"Is she pregnant?" Leena inquires.

He takes a sharp breath between his teeth, tilting his head. "Something like that."

Your eyes drift slowly over the perfectly manicured lawn watching Honggi offer to share a toy truck with Yumi. His smile is the spitting image of Yoongi’s and it makes you sigh happily. You lean against the arm of the lawn chair, resting your hand against your cheek.

You can barely believe how happy you’ve become over the past two years.

Everything just falls into the right place, everything just fits like a perfect complete puzzle.

Honggi turns to you, flailing his hand wildly and you can only giggle. Waving back, your heart expands to the size of the universe.

Yoongi laughs at something loudly, drawing your attention. You watch him sling his arm over Taehyung’s shoulder and you can only snort at the sight.

You can remember when you never heard his laugh, you didn’t know what it sounded like for quite a while and then… once he began to laugh, it never seemed to end.

That’s something you revel in, your husband’s happiness is yours well.

It gives you great pride to see him beaming from ear to ear. And you don’t think it often but --  you got him here. You got him to this state of happiness.

It’s your best artwork, yet.

“Hey Y/N.”

You look away from your husband to the one person you’d never thought you’d speak to.

“Sera… hey,” you breathe, looking up at her flawless form.

“H-How are you?” she inquires, sipping her water nervously.

You haven’t seen here in two years. She looks good, that isn’t hard for her. Something about her seems calmer and more poised then when you knew her.

“Can I sit?” she asks gently, running her hand over the back of her neck.

“Please,” you insist, sitting up straighter.

You can feel eyes on you and you can only imagine who it is but you don’t dare look away from the actress before you.

While you weren’t her biggest fan, she’s made Jin happy over the past two years and you can’t fault her for that. He hasn’t loved anyone since Leena and you can see that his heart has bloomed since being with this woman.

“No drink?” you quip, pointing at her water.

“I thought, y’know, since my surrogate can’t drink then I shouldn’t either.” she shrugs.

You don’t know what to say if you’re being honest. It must be a sore subject…

“Yeah-” you breathe awkwardly.

“I’m not upset about it, we can talk about it.” she announces, putting her hand to your shoulder.

Sera in all the time you’ve known her has never touched you and you’re surprised at how normal it is, honestly.

“I’m sorry that you… y’know… you’ve had a difficult time.” you say honestly.

You can’t imagine how hard Sera and Jin have been trying, how many hospitals and specialists they’ve gone to, how much heartbreak they’ve gone through.

“At least I’m getting a baby at all, right? I always used to be so angry about the whole situation… Maybe that’s why I was so mean to you.” she admits, carding her fingers through her long, now blonde hair.

You hum thoughtfully, looking up at the dusky sky. “I mean it mustn't have been easy for you either. I came into Yoongi’s life and flipped it upside down. You were comfortable with the situation and I just spun things around like a top.”

“Well… yeah, true. But if you didn’t come into Yoongi’s life then I wouldn’t have been able to become a better person and find the person that’s right for me.” she avows, looking over at you.

Her words resound through you and your eyes widen just the slightest bit. She’s really different these days, huh?

“Well, I came over to say I’m sorry for treating you terribly the whole first time you were pregnant, it was in bad taste and I was so selfish back then that I couldn’t begin to understand how horrible that could be for you.”

“I accept your apology.” you reply, giving her a small smile.

She breathes a sigh of relief, letting her body go lax in the chair beside you. “Oh good, I was so nervous to talk to you. I thought I was gonna have a heart attack or something.” she gasps.

You find yourself giggling and she snorts softly.

“You’re kid is cute,” she comments, watching him run over to you.

“Thanks,” you whisper, widening your eyes at Honggi curiously as he stops in front of you.

“Mama!” he cheers, holding up his paint covered fingers.

“Yes, baby?” you murmur, pushing his hair back.

“I’m painter like you! Look!” he squeals, tugging your hand.

You look over at Sera apologetically, standing up to follow your son.

“It was nice to see you Sera, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.” you call back to her.

She smiles warmly, giving you a gentle wave goodbye.

Jin could have done worse.

Lowering your head, you look at the picture that your son has painted. The fingerpaint is thick and blobbish but you can see a few distinct shapes that stick out to you.

You don’t say anything at first, letting him finish a few small details that he thinks are important. He gives you his gummy smile, seemingly proud of himself and it makes you smile too.

“It’s very nice, baby. I can see how much work you put into it.” you coo.

“It’s mama and dad, Honggi and baby!” he beams, picking up the picture which is almost too heavy for him with all the paint on it.

Your husband sweeps in beside you, planting a wet kiss to your cheek and taking the painting out of your hands.

“Mommy is having two babies, not just one.” Yoongi reminds him, pointing at your stomach.

Honggi nods fervently, opening and closing his small hands demanding the picture back from his father.

Your husband snorts gently, lowering the picture for his son. You can barely contain the ridiculous giggle that tries to escape you as he draws a black circle next the one already painted.

"Two!” he cheers, sticking up two of his paint covered fingers.

“Good job, bud.” Yoongi chuckles, kissing the top of his head.

“I saw that interaction. You okay?” your husband inquires softly into your ear.

You hum in agreement, wrapping your arm around his waist and laying your head down on his shoulder. “Better than okay,” you murmur, feeling his lips caress over the top of your head.

“Do you think he’s okay?” Yoongi inquires, pulling over the car.

You can’t help but laugh at his worried expression. “He’s fine,” you promise, putting your hand on his knee, “we can go out on a date without him around us all the time. Maya’s got it. Honggi loves her.”

He shuts off the engine, turning to you with a pout spread over his face. “I just miss him, I didn’t get to read him a bedtime story.”

Your heart is warm and you can’t help the giggle you give. “It’s our anniversary, besides it’s just for a few hours.”

He picks up your hand, placing a soft kiss to the back of it. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Happy anniversary, little dove.”

“Happy anniversary, babe.” you reply, with a smile.

The inside of Magic Shop is pristine like always, you’re so surprised that Jin has kept it exactly the same as two years ago. He always loved to change things up but you realize that he probably got so busy since you’ve last been here, he probably hasn’t had time for anything.

The music is quieter than normal and there isn’t a soul in the club. Which makes you understand immediately that Yoongi rented the whole place out.

“You shouldn’t have,” you hiss, giving Hyun a small wave.

“Of course I should have, you deserve the world, baby. Plus, loud music isn’t good for the babies,” he whispers, kissing your cheek.

Your eyes immediately land on the black velvet curtain and the memories of first meeting Yoongi flood through you like water.

“Thanks,” your husband murmurs, grabbing a whisky from Hyun.

When you pull back the curtain, you can only smile at the same leather booth from that fated day.

“Jesus, it even smells the same in here.” Yoongi breathes, running his fingers over the top of the couch.

This room holds so many memories for you but nothing beats the one with your husband.

“God, it’s like it was yesterday. I can still remember that black dress you were wearing,” your husband chirps, sitting down in the same spot he did two years ago.

He pats his lap, setting down his whisky onto the floor and you’re absolutely gobsmacked by how much this feels like dejavu.

“I’m a little big,” you murmur, sitting down slowly.

“Never, you’re gorgeous, little dove.” Yoongi coos, wrapping his arms around you.

His warm hands caress your practically bare thighs and when he looks at you, you can see the sheer love and devotion in his eyes.

“My little dove,” he breathes, drifting his thumb over the apple of your cheek.

You can remember just how smoking hot you thought this man was, how intrigued you were by him in an instant. You remember every single second of your time in this back room. You remember every minute of your days when you found out you were pregnant and how absolutely scared you were.

You can remember his good times and his bad when he was working out his feelings about you.

Nothing has left your mind and you treasure each and every memory -- because they make up who you are. They make up your life.

And it’s perfect. Because you have him.

“You were a good girl that I wanted to break so badly,” your husband announces, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Well… you did that,” you quip, humming when he presses his face to the crook of your neck.

“Thank you, little dove, really. Thank you so much for loving me and giving me such a wonderful family,” Yoongi gasps.

“Thank you for opening up to me and showing me that our love could blossom into something as perfect as this.” you reply, running your fingertips over his arms.

When he lifts his head, you can see how glassy his eyes are with tears.

“God, I love you, little dove.” he whimpers.

“I love you too.” you reply, kissing him softly.

His lips are plush and soft against yours and you can feel the tears that careen down his cheeks until they’re soaking into your skin. He’s so gentle with you, drifting his hands from your back to your distended stomach.

“My wife,” he chuckles, capturing your chin between his thumb and index finger, “my beautiful, gorgeous, powerful wife who has given me enough love to last eons. I love you so much, little dove, it hurts me.”

There are one hundred and fifty eight ways to say ‘I love you.’ And, they all pertain to Min Yoongi.

He’s a gentle soul and a loving husband that holds high standing with billions of people worldwide. He is sweet, wonderful and a perfect man at the end of the day. And now, everyone sees this side to him.

In the media he is praised and renowned for being a fantastic father and an equally fantastic husband. And to you, nothing could ever be more true,

It was March 23rd, when you saw him and met him. You tasted the finest of liquors and smelt the smoke of the richest Cuban cigars.

It was March 23rd when your life had truly begun.

Third Wheeling Taglist -  @wickizer​, @imluckybitches​, @slothykrueger​, @claireelise19, @ggukkieland​, @rspbrryy​, @iv-bts​, @bambuzlee, @chanelbts​, @mxxngxdss​, @bluewhale52​, @milesjeon11​, @diamonddia-mond​, @vinylphwoar, @xnxy97​, @hubbytaehyung, @140503at-dawn​, @bts-7beauts​, @jadeblackwoll, @sunshiine-hobii, @creatorspalace​, @eclectically-esoteric​, @nikkiordonez12​, @kaitswrld​, @skamlover200​, @sevgilove98, @kooeuphoria​, @jikooksgirl19​, @hobbledehoy26​, @singular-itae​, @dchimminie​, @lowlifeoeuvre​, @sugaslittlekookies​, @bloopbloopb, @pjmcth​, @softysuho​, @codeinbelle, @jaiuneamesolitaiire​, @betysotelo18​, @jeonmisha​, @iwanttohitmyself​, @ayyyocee​, @neverthefirstchoice​, @itsbangtanoclock​, @little7bitchh​, @veryuniquenamegoeshere​, @deathkat657​, @firstlovesuga-93​, @namjoonia​, @paperpurple​, @muzikabijou​, @liebeoppa, @veronawrites​, @kleff03​, @ruinsofangels​, @brightwingr5​, @leekanchol​, @rkivemagic​, @ithinkileftmycoatoutside​, @melaninkpops​, @y00ngisbabygirl​, @ungodlyjoon​, @prochnost513​, @dunixxd​, @athenakyle​, @igotnotype​, @chxmachxps​, @tinymintyoongi, @vangameren-blog​, @alpaca1612​, @ohcarolinamin​, @thegreatestsushi​, @eltrain80​, @btsmylife21​, @deeepvibes​, @httpminyg​, @deliciouslydisturbed365​, @rkchmestizangmaldita​, @jimin-chu, @pimpnameyannie​, @preciouschimine​, @daughterofthequeen, @monetsberet​, @vanillamyg, @aamxxrii​, @kooafraid​, @ladykadyrova​, @singjisu​, @yazanii​, @moonlitmyg​, @justzeera​​, @absolutefantrash​, @whocaresarchives​, @loosewindmill, @vantesfx​​, @bt21chim​​, @flowerboyhobi​​, @kozuume-kenma, @taepiper​​

Sorry for those it didn’t tag!

[theforgottenmcrmy]

After All (Part 15/?)

Pairing: Riff X OC Jet Girl

Warnings: Explicit Language, Racism (NOTICE: offensive racial slur), Non-Explicit Reference to Sexual Assault, Violence, Mild Sexism

Summary: Genuine hope was something Riff hadn’t felt since he was a kid, when he was innocent and naive and didn’t know any better. Over the years, life and the world around him had sucked all the hope out of him and stomped on it before his very eyes. He came up in the West Side, after all.

Word Count: 12,600 ish

DISCLAIMER

Please note that this is a reimagining of the film West Side Story (2021) and as a result is slightly AU.

Masterlist /// Part 1 /// Part 14 /// Part 15 /// Part 16

A/N: Ahhhhh thank you so very much for the overwhelming amount of support for this story! And thank you for your generous patience as I took the additional time to get this chapter ready (and special shout out to @sallymakesstuff for helping me out!). I don’t think there’s a crazy amount of plot in this chapter, but I think it was necessary to lay the foundations of many of the character motivations from here on out. Again, I ask that everyone remembers two things: 1) almost everyone in this story views what is going on with rose colored glasses, and 2) depiction does not equal endorsement. Anyways, I hope you all have a good rest of the weekend, and I hope you all enjoy! :)

Part 15: Dissension Amongst the Ranks

The tension in the air was nearly suffocating as Riff entered the park with the rest of the Jets in tow.

Word of something happening to the wall had spread quickly, courtesy of Mouthpiece. Although only a few of the Jets had been in the auto shop at the time Mouthpiece delivered the news, as the small group stormed over to the park to see what had happened for themselves, one by one the other Jets fell in line along the way. By the time Riff reached the park's entrance, the rest of the Jets were behind him, determined to see what had happened with their own eyes.

The group could see what had happened from all the way across the park, but that didn’t stop Riff from leading them all the way over to the wall.

Birds chirping and children playing nearby, both of which seemed entirely unfazed by the sudden appearance of the large group of young men, were the only sounds that could be heard as the gang took in the sight of the wall.

All the artwork and paintings that comprised the memory of gangs long before them and the contribution that each and everyone of them had made were gone. Decades of history had all been replaced by a white background, some Spanish words, and a large, Puerto Rican flag that spread across as least two thirds of the wall.

Riff felt all the eyes of the Jets upon him as he continued to stand before the wall and wordlessly take in the scene.

Unsurprisingly, Mouthpiece was the one to break the silence.

“Sharks?” he asked, his voice sounding much more timid and uncertain than usual.

That had been Riff’s gut feeling too.

But just out of the corner of Riff’s eye was an inconspicuous cone. It’s orange color contrasted starkly against the mostly white, red, and blue wall. On top of the cone was a sign that read, “WET PAINT”.

Unless the Sharks had recently gotten some access to city resources, their guilt in the crime was non-existent.

“Doesn’t matter who did it,” Ice stated coolly as he came to stand beside Riff. “It’s all gone now.”

To emphasize his fellow Jet’s point, Action slinked up beside Riff and Ice and gave the WET PAINT cone a solid kick. The orange object went flying and landed a yards away with a hollow thunk.

Riff was still trying to process the scene before him and form words as the rest of Jets began to converse amongst themselves.

“First Tony, now this?” A-Rab questioned dramatically.

“Hey, what ‘bout Tony?” Big Deal piped up.

“He’s been cut loose,” A-Rab informed the group. “Looks like Valentina’s got him slavin’ away at Doc’s.”

A bunch of “What?”s and other general exclamations of surprise erupted over the group as those who had known and did not know but had heard of Tony processed A-Rab’s announcement.

“Riff, I thought you said he was goin’ to ask us to come get him,” Snowboy said.

The group once again fell into disarray as they started questioning what had happened and proposed theories to one another.

Riff remained silent.

Action turned around to face him. “Riff,” he said, mindful to keep his voice low so as not to be overheard by the rest of the group, “What happened with Tony?”

Riff struggled to find words that would strike the balance between telling the truth and giving an answer that Action, let alone the rest of the Jets, would find satisfactory. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Ice interjected, also speaking quietly. “Tony didn’t tell him.”

Action looked to Riff for verbal confirmation, but the look on Riff’s face must have been enough of an indication that Ice’s statement was accurate.

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Action replied with a frown.

Action looked as though he was beginning to run through all the possible explanations in his mind. Ice remained beside Riff and was looking at him with an expression that Riff wasn’t sure was of disappointment or pity.

As many thoughts bounced round Riff’s own head, there was one particular thought that seemed to be rebounding off the sides of his skull more than any other.

We can’t just keep standin’ here.

There was a lot of news and information to digest but the longer they stood there, in public and in broad daylight, the more of a scene they would continue to cause. And unless they had a plan to address any of the issues that had been presented to them that morning, standing around being flabbergasted would serve no purpose other than to make them look more foolish than they already felt.

Besides, God forbid that any Sharks happen to come across them standing there gaping at the wall, demanding answers, and bickering with each other over theories. They’d get some wild idea about dissension amongst the ranks.

“Let’s go,” Riff muttered. He turned on his heels and made his way back through the Jets. Though they stepped aside to let him through, none of them moved to follow.

“Riff? We can’t just leave!” A-Rab insisted.

“We can and we are,” Riff said smoothly.

“Seriously, boss?” Action scoffed. “You really just gonna let them get away with this?!”

Riff whirled back around and the Jets closest to him braced themselves as soon as they saw the enraged look on his face. They knew what was coming.

“Yes!” Riff shouted back at him, his anger finally reaching a boiling point. “It’s too late, the wall is gone. And in case you haven’t noticed, there ain’t nobody, no city officials and certainly no damn Sharks for miles around! Curse into the air if you want. Beat your bloody knuckles raw punching the damn wall, I don’t care. And if you don’t wanna do either of those things, then I’d suggest we all take a bit to cool the hell down and regroup. Let’s. Go.”

A stunned silence fell over the Jets as the majority of them stared at Riff with a look similar to children who had been scorned by a parent. For the second time, the only thing Riff could hear were birds chirping and children playing nearby.

Riff turned around for a final time and headed over to the exit. The Jets were quick to jump out of their stunned state and follow him, hot on his heels.

————————————————————————————

“I’ll have a Coke, please.”

Velma smiled at Roxie. The pair had met up in the same diner they’d frequented since the beginning of summer. Though they usually met for breakfast, this time it had been for lunch. The diner was a bit more crowded than either of them were used to, but neither minded.

“Big spender today, I see,” Velma commented with a smile. Roxie almost always ordered water.

Roxie shrugged sheepishly. “I’m in a good mood today, I suppose.”

Velma hummed as she pretended to look over the menu. They’d both been to the diner enough that Velma already knew what she wanted, but the action was more out of habit than anything else.

Roxie didn’t show the same interest in her menu. She was clearly distracted, and Velma had a pretty good hunch as to why.

Before Velma could decide how best to approach the subject, Roxie said, “Can you thank your father again for letting me stay over those few days last week? I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Velma replied easily.

In all truthfulness, her father didn’t mind too much at all. Velma had only ever brought a few of the Jet girls around to their apartment, but her father liked all of the ones she had. Velma used to have Roxie over a lot when they were both in school, so he was used to her. Over the years, her father had also met Graziella, Natalie, and Gussie. Velma had recently invited Karen over for dinner, and though she was quiet, her father seemed to like her as well.

Velma’s father had given her some grief over the years for choosing to be with Diesel, and perhaps rightfully so. But her father had also told her how reassured he was by the fact that so many of the Jets had some level-headed girls to help keep them all in check.

The waitress brought over their drinks and took their food orders. As soon as she was out of earshot, Velma continued, “So, is everything good now between you and Riff?”

Velma didn’t miss the smile that Roxie tried to hide behind her Coke as she took a sip of the drink. She set the glass down calmly and looked up at Velma after taking a moment to regain her composure. “Yes,” she answered simply. “Everything’s worked out.”

Velma stared at her for a few moments, silently urging her to continue.

“There is something else,” Roxie added. “We’re, uh… We’re sort of seeing each other again.”

That had been what Velma was expecting, but upon hearing Roxie actually verbalize it, she couldn’t help it as her eyebrows raised in mild shock.

Roxie looked at her curiously, and perhaps a bit nervously, waiting for her to say something, anything. When Velma remained silent, her expression shifted. “You already knew, didn’t you?”

Velma nodded and Roxie rolled her eyes, though a smile was still on her face. “Diesel told me he had his suspicions.”

This seemed to pique Roxie’s interest as her head tilted slightly. “Really? Why?”

“Diesel said something about Riff’s been sneaking back into the apartment whenever he’s been getting back at night, as if it isn’t his apartment to begin with.”

Technically the apartment was Riff’s uncle’s, but Velma knew Roxie would still get the point.

Roxie was smiling. Apparently the thought of Riff behaving in such a manner was amusing to her. “Yeah?”

Velma merely hummed in response as she took a sip of her coffee. Normally she wouldn’t have gotten something caffeinated at that time of day, but it had been a long week. “Diesel said something else too,” Velma continued, intentionally opting to use a casual tone, “He said Riff’s been getting in at night a lot later than usual… You know anything about that?”

Roxie cleared her throat. “Well, if he’s been getting back later, it doesn’t have anything to do with that… not yet, at least.” Roxie quickly took another sip of her Coke, but Velma noticed the slight blush rising on her cheeks.

“Roxie,” Velma admonished with a light laugh.

“No,” Roxie insisted, setting her glass back down on the table and sitting up straighter. “He’s been walking me home from work the past few nights, as I’m sure you’ve figured out. Maybe we’ve been walking slower, I don’t know. But we’ve just been talking.”

“About what?”

Roxie shrugged. “Anything. Everything.”

Velma watched Roxie get lost in thought for a few moments. On one hand, she was happy for Roxie, and on the other, there was someone else on her mind that she was concerned about. “That explains why no one has heard from Grazi since the dance last weekend.”

Velma had tried to reach Grazi a few days after the dance. Grazi hadn’t answered the phone, but Velma left a message with her mother. Grazi never returned Velma’s call and Velma hadn’t thought much about it until she received a call from Natalie and then Sorella asking her if she had heard from Grazi. 

Roxie’s daydreaming gaze was immediately shattered and a look of guilt washed over her face. “Riff said she called things off between them.”

Velma wasn’t sure if Graziella was content with calling off her fling with Riff or whether she felt that her hand had been forced, but she knew that voicing that to Roxie would only deepen the guilty look on the other girl’s face and make her feel worse. Besides, Riff had just as much of a role to play in what had happened as Roxie had.

“Aren’t you concerned that you haven’t heard from her?” Roxie pried worriedly.

“I wouldn’t worry about Grazi,” Velma said reassuringly. “She’s tougher than either of us, I’d like to think. She’ll come back around when she’s ready. She may not be with Riff, or Tony, anymore, but she’s still one of us. We’re family.”

A comfortable silence fell over the pair as their waitress returned with their food.

“So,” Velma began as she poked at the food on her plate with her fork, “You ready to be the leading lady of the Jet girls?”

Roxie rolled her eyes and picked up her own fork to start digging into her meal. “Please, there’s no such thing. There never was.”

“Like hell there isn’t,” Velma quipped. She briefly paused to take a bite. “I’ve already had girls calling me and asking where Grazi is. Now that no one can get ahold of her, they're calling me and wanting answers.”

The leadership among the Jets was apparent but still informal. No one had ever needed to say that Riff, and once upon a time, Tony, was the leader of them. But Riff was, and Tony used to be, too. It was an unspoken but still known fact.

Leadership among their girls operated a little differently. The guys were in charge of the group in its entirety, which more often than not encompassed the girls. There was no doubt about that. But for matters that didn’t involve the guys, such as going to get dresses for upcoming dance, or on a more serious note, who would be in charge of keeping up morale and consoling the others while they all waited for the Jets to return from a rumble, a few of the girls had also stepped up and become unspoken leaders.

Back in the day, it was Roxie and Grazi, regardless of whether Roxie wanted to acknowledge or admit it. The two of them had been with Riff and Tony respectively and it only made sense. They had to put on a brave face to keep up appearances because of who their guys were. But more recently, the girls in charge had fluctuated a bit.

Rhonda, Action’s girlfriend of a few months, was feisty and a perfect match for him. No one dared to disrespect her and some of the younger girls even tended to fear her. As a result, a lot of the girls looked up to her.

Velma, as much as she felt uncomfortable by the thought, had also been someone that the girls started to turn to. She’d been going steady with Diesel for four, going on five years, and although Diesel did not necessarily have Ice or Action’s “ranking”, the longevity of their relationship seemed to give her some seniority among the group.

Up until the previous week, Grazi had been the one that all of them, even Rhonda and Velma, usually looked to for advice and support. Now that she was gone, at least for the imminent future, someone would have to fill her shoes.

“Even if such a thing exists, no one is going to look to me for advice about anything anyways,” Roxie said decisively. “Most of the girls now don’t even know me.”

Velma smiled. “I know the perfect way to solve that.”

“How?”

“Group date!” Velma enthused excitedly.

Roxie rolled her eyes playfully. “I thought I was seeing Riff, not the entire group.”

“You should’ve read the fine print,” Velma joked. “You should know better than anyone that when you get involved with one of the Jets, you get the whole family along with them. Listen, we can start with a smaller group. You’ve never met Rhonda or Karen, and I’d think you’d like them.”

“Rhonda and Karen being…?”

“With Action and Ice.“

An odd look flashed across Roxie’s face at Velma’s mention of the first Jet’s name. Velma wasn’t sure if Roxie had ever gotten over Action trying to insist she ratted out Riff almost two years ago, or if something else had happened between them more recently, but she was interested to know.

“Take some time to think about it,” Velma said when Roxie did not say anything further. “But you don’t have much of a choice when it comes to things like that if you’re with Riff. When you’re a Jet-“

“-you’re a Jet all the way,” Roxie finished, half jokingly and half grumbling as she took another sip of her drink.

Velma watched Roxie carefully for a few moments. “All things considered, I’m glad you are back with Riff,” she admitted. “You’ve got the power to do me and the rest of the girls a mighty favor.”

“Yeah?” Roxie asked. “What’s that?”

Velma glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention to their conversation. “This business with the Sharks… you know where it’s going, right?“

The sudden sharp look Roxie gave Velma confirmed that she knew. “It’s not going to get that far,” Roxie insisted firmly in a low voice.

“Well, if the subject of a rumble does come up, you know what to do,” Velma told her in a hushed voice.

The guys were all too trigger-happy about it. As soon as one of them even mumbled the word, the idea of a rumble spread amongst the rest of them like wildfire, and in no time everyone was on board. Most of the girls liked the excitement of a rumble, but many of them preferred missing out on some excitement in lieu of keeping their boyfriends uninjured and out of jail.

“The guys look to Riff for everything,” Velma added, “especially now, with Tony being gone.”

A queer look flashed across Roxie’s face. “That’s something else I wanted to talk to you about, Velma.”

“He’s back, isn’t he?” Velma guessed.

Roxie nodded slowly. “He’s staying with Valentina.”

Velma chuckled to herself humorlessly and took a sip of her coffee. She had thought she’d seen a familiar figure in Doc’s a few weeks back, but since she never went inside and only caught a glance through the window, she hadn’t given it any more thought. “Do the guys know?”

“Riff’s supposed to tell them today.”

“Why didn’t he come back to the Jets? Why keep it a secret?”

“He wants to do something else,” Roxie answered quietly, avoiding meeting Velma’s eyes as she poked at the food on her plate with a fork. “His parole officer gave him all these rules, but I think he also just wants to stay out of trouble.”

Velma’s eyes narrowed a bit as she pondered the information. Tony, the very same boy who had nearly beaten another boy to death with his bare hands, wanted to change his ways? Even if he wanted to change, how could he just turn his back on the Jets like that? They were family. If Roxie’s explanation was true, his time upstate must’ve cleared his head and then some.

Velma wasn’t quite sure what to make of the news about Tony, and she wasn’t likely to make any more sense of it thinking about it right then and there, but there was one other thing on her mind that she still wanted to convey.

“Regardless about Tony, you have Riff’s ear now, Roxie,” Velma reminded her solemnly. “If he brings up even the faintest suggestion of a rumble, kill it. And kill it quick.”

————————————————————————————

Ice leaned up against the wall of the auto shop and watched as a mild chaos descended upon most of the group.

Riff had led them right back to the shop after the scene at the park. After they all made it inside, Riff swiftly closed the garage door. It was clear that any walk-in business would not be welcomed for the day.

After closing the garage door, Riff silently walked up the stairs and entered the apartment above. Many of the Jets continued to talk amongst each other but the few who didn’t watched the closed apartment door silently.

A minute later, Riff exited the apartment with something in his hand. He descended down the stairs and swiftly exited the side door of the shop while mumbling something about needing some air.

A few hours had passed and Riff had yet to return.

Ice wasn’t sure how to feel about the discovery that Riff had been keeping information from him, let alone the rest of the Jets. The fact that Riff and Roxie were back together was harmless- plus, it wasn’t like it had much of an impact on Ice or the rest of the guys anyways.

But the fact that Riff had kept the news about Tony’s return a secret bothered him. Ice could tell Riff’s reaction to A-Rab’s announcement earlier that morning that he was already well aware that Tony was back. But if Ice’s assumption in the park that morning was correct, it was possible that Tony hadn’t actually told Riff when he was getting cut loose from prison. That seemed likely- Riff had too many guys staying with him lately. If Riff had known about when Tony was getting released, he would’ve gone upstate to meet him. There was no way Riff’s absence of a few hours if not most of the day would’ve gone unnoticed by the other guys.

And if that scenario was the case, Ice could understand why Riff, who must’ve discovered Tony’s presence in the neighborhood once again on his own somehow, would be reluctant to tell anyone.

What kind of angle was Tony trying to play, anyway? Ice was sure Riff would’ve offered Tony a place to stay and a job at the shop, if he wanted it. Why’d he choose to go to Valentina and work at Doc’s?

Not only was the situation with Tony an issue, but now there was the problem with the wall in the park. Sure, Ice was getting tired of all the fighting with the Sharks, but the painting of the wall- whoever it had been done by- felt personal. He didn’t think there was any possible way to address it that didn’t involve some fighting in one way or another.

“I don’t think it was the PRs,” Numbers said, bringing Ice’s attention back to the group, who were apparently still debating what had happened.

“Oh yeah, why not?” Tiger snapped.

“They ain’t that bold… not yet,” Numbers stated. “They see us by the wall all the time and they’ve never touched it before. So why now?”

“Yeah, who set ‘em off?” Balkan asked the group.

“It was probably yous!” Action accused, stepping up to the younger Jet. Action had quite the height advantage on Balkan, but to Balkan’s credit, he didn’t back down or flinch away. “You and Mouthpiece pulled that stint with the liquor store!”

“That was a few weeks ago!” Balkan argued, shouting right back in Action’s face.

“Maybe it was yous!” Mouthpiece interjected, coming to stand beside Balkan. Though he spoke quieter than the Jet beside him had, he looked just as angry. “You’re the one who got into it with Bernardo at the dance!”

Shouts started to fill the room as the other Jets began to argue and pick sides.

Since Riff was still gone and Action had taken it upon himself to become involved in the argument at hand, Ice decided it was time for him to step up. With a small sigh, he pushed himself up off the wall and took a few quick strides over to the gathered group a few yards away.

“Can it!” Ice ordered as he put one hand on Action’s shoulder and one hand on Mouthpiece’s shoulder in an effort to put some distance between the two.

Opposite of him, Numbers was trying to do the same with one hand on Action’s other shoulder and his other hand on one of Balkan’s.

Upon realizing the effort that the two were making to separate them, Action, Mouthpiece, and Balkan allowed themselves to be pushed a few feet away from one another, and the rest of the Jets surrounding took a step back to give them some room as well. Although the room went quiet, everyone still seemed tense and on edge.

After a few moments passed, Ice said cautiously, “It doesn’t matter who painted the wall. It’s done. It’s all gone.”

“He’s right,” Numbers agreed. “Besides, like I was sayin’, I don’t even think it was the Sharks. You’d see that official lookin’ sign? I think it was the City.”

“Why’s the City sidin’ with them?” A-Rab questioned. “We were born here! It’s our wall! Our history!”

“Guess they think they’re more cultural,” Diesel proposed darkly. “Rich folks love that sorta shit- they ain’t got none of it themselves.”

“Well, we were here first! What about us and our culture?” A-Rab demanded.

Various Jets piped up in agreement.

“And why do the rich folks matter anyways?” Big Deal added.

“To hell with this!” Action huffed. “If Riff ain’t gonna do somethin’ ‘bout it, I will!”

Action harshly shrugged off both Ice and Number’s hands off his shoulders and stormed away from the group and towards the garage’s side door.

“Action!” Ice called after him warningly.

Action threw the door open so forcefully that it smacked against the wall of the garage with a solid thud. Despite Ice’s shout, Action did not stop or turn around and disappeared through the door and out of view without a moment’s hesitation.

Ice sighed frustratedly and slowly turned around to face the group. They all looked way, way too tense for Ice’s liking.

“Don’t any of you get any ideas,” Ice cautioned them, noting that some of them glanced longingly at the door that Action had just left through. “We follow Riff’s lead. Let’s just hang out here and take some time to cool down. When Riff gets back, we can see what he wants to do.”

Not all of the guys seemed persuaded, but Ice chose to ignore them.

“No wonder Tony didn’t wanna come back with us,” A-Rab said under his breath, but it had been just loud enough for Ice and the nearby Jets to hear.

“You don’t know what happened with Tony,” Ice told A-Rab coolly. “Riff will talk to him.” Ice glanced at the side door of the garage one more time. “And he’ll take care of Action, too.”

————————————————————————————

“I’m thinkin’ ‘bout grabbin’ a sandwich,” Tony informed Valentina, referring to the deli down the street from Doc’s. “Want anything?”

Valentina shook her head and shut the cash register drawer as the customer she had been assisting accepted their change from her and began to walk away. “No, I am not hungry, but gracias. Just make sure you are back in time for the 2 o’clock delivery.”

Tony nodded as the bell on the front door rang, indicating that the customer was exiting the store. He quickly resumed tidying up the cans on the shelf he was in the process of stocking. As she suggested, Valentina would be a bit frustrated with him if he wasn’t present when the delivery truck arrived. Unloading all the goods by herself was not an option, so Tony wanted to head over to the deli sooner rather than later to make sure he’d be back in time.

“No, no. No eres bienvenido aquí,” Valentina called out a moment later. “Get out, I mean it.”

Curiously, Tony glanced over at the door and immediately spotted Riff. He looked like an odd mixture of angry and distracted, and he gripped something in his hand so hard that his knuckles were starting to turn a bit white. The customer Valentina had rung up walked through the door and passed him. He side-stepped swiftly and entered the shop once he was in the clear. Upon hearing Valentina, Riff lingered in the doorway for a moment until his eyes fell on Tony.

Riff started to walk over to him quickly, ignoring the continuous stream of warnings coming from Valentina as she remained behind the counter. Tony remained standing where he was and watched inquisitively as Riff approached him.

“I’ll just be a minute,” Riff said shortly to Valentina. However, he didn’t even glance at her, and his eyes remained locked with Tony’s as he spoke. “I just wanted to thank my ol’ pal here for findin’ my girl for me last week.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. What kinda game is this? Riff must’ve been itching to cause some trouble by coming into Doc’s, where Valentina had already banned him for one reason or another several times, and bringing up Roxie, of all things, so boldly. Tony glanced at Valentina and saw that was staring at Riff with one of the coldest looks he’d ever seen on her face.

“But I know he’s tryin’ to be a law abidin’ citizen these days,” Riff continued. “So I just came to tell him goodbye.”

Tony looked back at Riff and frowned in confusion. Where is this comin’ from? Riff had given him a good amount of guilt a few weeks before, when he first saw him after being released from prison. It seemed particularly out of character for him to have a sudden change of heart.

“You don’t gotta worry about me or the Jets no more,” Riff assured him.

Tony scoffed in disbelief. “What, ya disbandin’ or somethin’?”

“Quite the opposite, actually,” Riff replied smoothly. “But we ain’t gonna be your problem. So, I wanted to give this back to ya, and then we can be on our own ways.”

Riff held up the object for Tony to take. Tony noted his knuckles were still a bit white. Tony grabbed the object from his hand carefully. After giving Riff a weary look, he looked down to see what it was.

His old Superman comic.

Tony hadn’t even realized Riff still had it. It was a nice gesture, but this discovery only confused Tony further. Riff came all this way for some bull shit talk and gesture? It would’ve been more Riff’s style to stay away from him while possibly hoping that Tony would change his mind and come running back to him and the Jets. His style was certainly not this- to show up and openly admit defeat? That wasn’t like Riff at all.

Before Tony could think of something to say, Riff turned on his heels and headed for the front door. When he reached it, he paused, and looked back at Tony over his shoulder. “Oh, and uh, sorry ‘bout the last page. Gee-Tar must’ve spilled some Coke on it.”

“... What?”

But Riff opened the door and slipped outside.

There was a beat of silence.

“Chico loco,” Valentina declared. “I do not trust him.”

Tony continued to look at the front door and watched as Riff walked down the sidewalk and disappeared from view. “Right…” he muttered distractedly.

“Tony?” Valentina prompted.

Tony looked at her.

“Your lunch?”

“Oh, yeah,” Tony replied, finally snapping out of his confusion. “I’ll be back in ten minutes, I promise.”

Valentina grumbled something under her breath as Tony made a beeline for the front door with the comic book still in hand.

Tony opened the front door quickly and took a step outside. The sun immediately blinded him and the overwhelming heat made it tempting to retreat back inside, but he stayed put and closed the door shut behind him.

He shielded his eyes and looked up and down both directions of the sidewalk. Riff was no where to be seen.

Tony cursed under his breath. Unsure of what else to do, he started making his way towards the deli. Even if Riff’s visit had confused the hell out of him, a decent sandwich couldn’t make things any worse.

As Tony walked, a thought struck him. What did he say ‘bout the last page?

Tony brought the comic in his hand up to eye level and gently unrolled the comic book. It looked like it had been rolled, unrolled, and rolled back up again several times over, but it had also probably looked like that before Riff had borrowed it. Tony turned it over and opened the back over.

There was a note. Tony would have recognized Riff’s scratchy handwriting anywhere, even if he hadn’t been the one to give him the comic book in the first place.

The wall. Friday. 10 PM.

————————————————————————————

Action knew it wasn’t wise to be in the park at that particular hour.

It was late afternoon. Some of the Sharks would be getting out of work soon and would make their way to the park for their evening round of basketball. If they saw him there, standing alone and gaping at the wall, it would only be a matter of time before they started to feel brave and tried to start a problem.

But he didn’t care.

Action looked up at the wall once again, just as he had earlier that day. The feelings he felt while looking at it were the same as before- shock, disappointment, sadness, and anger. Lots and lots of anger.

Somewhere underneath the layers of red, white, and blue paint was the Jet collection of contributions to the wall. They’d been scattered here and there around the paintings that had been added by gangs that had come before them.

Action’s contribution, a single pair of dice with edges that were more wobbly than straight and sides that didn’t match actual dice, was also somewhere underneath all that mess. In his defense, he didn’t exactly have an accurate pair of dice to reference.

The dice he had used as a reference were currently in his possession, as they almost always were. The more he thought about them, the heavier they felt in his pocket.

His grandfather, his mother’s father, had done things the right way. His father left something to be desired in terms of a role model. But his grandfather- now that was someone Action had looked up to with the highest level of respect he’d ever given an adult in his entire life.

His grandfather had come to America from Poland a few decades back. He’d barely been let in, and once he made it inside, the wonderful citizens of New York wasted no time letting him know just how unwelcomed he was. He spent weeks, months looking for a job, but no one would hire him. There’d always been a golden boy, American born and raised, from a block over who’d get hired for the job instead. America was supposed to have been full of opportunities, but his grandfather had struggled to find them. Finally, he’d made friends with some particularly charitable neighbor who got him an interview at that factory.

His grandfather ended up working at that factory for decades, but before he’d gotten the job, and after, when times were particularly tough, there’d been only one other way that he’d been able to scrape by and provide for himself, his wife, and eventually, Action’s mother. His grandfather, in addition to his admirable resilience and perseverance, was not afraid to take advantage of those who looked down upon him. He preyed on the pities of his fellow New York citizens and made off with their cash like a bandit by busking tricks and hustling with his loaded pair of dice.

He used the very same pair of dice in Action’s pocket. The very same pair of dice Action had shakily painted in black paint on the wall. Action’s painting meant more than him, it meant the memory of his grandfather. And while his grandfather was long gone, the tribute to him had remained on that wall.

Now they were both gone.

His grandfather worked for decades before he’d finally gotten the respect from his fellow Americans that he damn well deserved. Seems like it was just yesterday that the Puerto Ricans got off the boat and started moving into the city. It had probably been within at least the last few months, but it might have even begun a few years back. Either way, Action knew one thing with absolute certainty.

The Puerto Ricans hadn’t been around nearly long enough to really earn their way or earn his respect.

Not yet.

And now the City was siding with them, if Number’s observation was correct. The sickenly obvious love portrait to an island far, far away plopped down in the middle of the West Side made that abundantly clear. Action didn’t know why the City had made the decision, but maybe the idea of culture, however laughable that was, did have something to do with it. Regardless, Action knew he shouldn't have been surprised. 

Considering how awful his grandfather had been treated, it wasn’t shocking to think about how some of the other fellow citizens, and by extension the City, could turn their backs so easily on Action and the rest of the Polish immigrant families yet again.

Someone had picked up the orange cone Action kicked earlier that morning. Without another moment of thought, he gave it another solid kick for good measure. Once again, the cone went flying through the air several feet until it landed on the concrete with a hollow thunk.

Action let out a puff of air angrily and looked back at the wall. The longer he stared, the more his mind raced. The more his mind raced, the angrier he grew.

“Look at this Jet,” someone said from behind him.

“Maybe if he looks at it long enough, it will start to change.”

Action didn’t need to turn around to know who it was behind him. The accents were dead giveaways.

Even though he did not need to turn around, Action decided to. It was better for him to know his odds. He turned slowly and immediately saw two men whom he recognized.

Sharks.

One of the men had a basketball tucked under his arm. The other, the one closest to Action and only a few feet away, was giving him a pitiful look.

“You know, we did not ask for this,” the man said, gesturing to the wall beyond them with his hand. His tone was lighter than just a moment before, and if Action didn’t know any better, he almost sounded sympathetic. “But, now that it has been done… I would argue that it is an improvement.”

Action stood there grinding his teeth and said nothing as both Sharks laughed a little.

“Do you want us to read it to you?” the other man asked him.

Action exhaled through his nose. “Well, I don't speak it, so I definitely don't read it.”

“No? They don't teach you Spanish in your American schools?” the man asked redundantly.

Action looked up and met each of their eyes. As he glared at them, his own eyes were steadfast and unwavering. Behind the Sharks in front of him, Action could see more Sharks making their way towards the basketball court.

Against his better judgment, Action’s response came naturally.

“No,” he replied calmly. “They don’t teach spic.”

————————————————————————————

Riff had already gone through a handful of cigarettes.

After stopping by Doc’s earlier that afternoon, Riff continued to walk around the neighborhood, smoking as he went.

He swung by the usual haunts- the underpass, the abandoned pier, the salt shed by the river. He was willing to walk miles- and when it was all said and done, he probably would have- in order to take as much time as needed in order to avoid going back to the auto shop and facing the rest of the Jets without knowing exactly the right words to say.

As Riff walked through the neighborhood he knew like the back of his hand, he quickly realized three things he needed to work through in his mind. And once Riff got done figuring that whole mess out, maybe he could go back to the shop without looking or feeling like a fool.

First- Tony is back.

The rest of the guys knew about it. As expected, they hadn’t reacted too well to the news, and Riff was pretty sure Ice and Action had been able to deduce that he had known Tony was back already. The last thing Riff wanted was for them to start telling the rest of the guys that he was keeping things from them. He didn’t think either of them would necessarily go out of their way to do that, but that was all the more reason that Riff needed to get ahead of it before it became a bigger issue.

Yeah, he probably should’ve mentioned that Tony was back way earlier. But Riff was still processing why Tony refused to come back and join them. How could he have told the Jets about it without having the answer as to why himself?

Roxie had said Tony made the decision to stay out of trouble for himself, and that it wasn’t about the Jets… and maybe it wasn’t even about Riff. Regardless, Tony’s decision to turn his back on the Jets affected all of them, and not just himself. Didn’t that make his intentions a little moot?

Riff didn’t know what had gotten into Tony during his stay upstate, and he wasn’t sure whether he would ever find out. And while Riff didn’t want to give the guys a sense of false hope, what was the point in letting them down completely if there was always a small chance Tony could change his mind and come back around?

Riff had to be strategic with whatever he told the rest of the Jets. Maybe it’d be best to give them a little bit of the truth sprinkled in with a little bit of something to frame the situation in the best possible light.

Riff wasn’t going to give up on Tony. Far from it, actually. Hopefully Tony had picked up the decently obvious hint Riff had dropped for him about the note he shoved in the back of the Superman comic and would meet him in a few days.

Riff wasn’t sure what all he would say to Tony at said meeting if Tony actually showed up. There was both plenty to talk about, considering all that had been going on, and yet not a whole lot to talk about at all, if Tony refused to even hear Riff out about any of it. But, Tony had insisted, multiple times if Riff recalled correctly, that he was still willing to be there for him… even if he couldn’t be there for the Jets. Only time would tell if Tony was willing to keep his word, play ball, and still give Riff a chance to speak his mind and convince him to see his side.

Second- the wall.

The damn wall.

Was nothing sacred anymore?

That wall was history. That wall told stories of the gangs that came before them. The Jets had added something of great significance to each of them personally, including Riff.

The four leaf clover he’d painted in green meant more to him than he’d ever shared with anyone. His ma’s Irish heritage and quirky but dedicated beliefs in various superstitions had stuck with him all his life. Riff was no stranger to danger by any means, but even to that day, he refused to walk under an open ladder and he didn’t even want to think about accidentally coming across a black cat. Though his ma was gone, that four leaf clover had been Riff’s way of keeping her memory alive, even if he was the only one who knew its true meaning. And, maybe Riff had also hoped that his ma’s superstitious ways would’ve given him a little bit of karmic luck, almost like she was still watching over him.

But now, the physical indication of the Jets and their livelihoods was gone. Any one of them could bite the dust next week or even the next day and though their memory would live on in the rest of the Jets’ minds, that’s all they’d be. Just a memory.

The Jets had a right to be upset that the wall had been defaced. And to be honest, Riff was really upset by it too. But what could be done? Everything that Riff and the Jets had painted on the concrete was gone and was now covered up by muck. No matter who had painted over it, it was too late- the damage had been done.

Besides, what were he and the Jets supposed to do? Paint right over it?

Though that idea was mighty tempting, Riff had calmed down enough to be able to rationalize that that wasn’t the best idea… at least not at the moment. No, if the Jets went and painted over that Puerto Rican eyesore, they’d be the obvious offenders. If the PRs and Sharks had painted the wall in the first place, they would suspect the Jets right away and start causing even more problems for them. And if the City had been responsible for the painting, Riff and the rest of the guys were likely to face some fines or even some time behind bars if they messed with it.

The wall was important, but Riff didn’t think any of the guys were willing to cough up hard to come by cash or make themselves at home in a jail cell just because they wanted to make themselves feel better for a few fleeting moments.

Third… the auto shop.

Between everything that was going on with Tony and the wall, trying to convince the Jets to keep it cool and avoid picking fights with the Sharks and other PRs seemed downright laughable. Emotions were running too high and Riff knew that some of the guys, not just Action, would be itching to up the ante with the Sharks.

Still, Roxie would be disappointed if he didn’t at least try to pitch the idea to the guys.

He felt torn.

Riff wanted so desperately to feel the hope he had felt just the night before when Roxie gave him the idea of buying the auto shop from his uncle. Genuine hope was something Riff hadn’t felt since he was a kid, when he was innocent and naive and didn’t know any better. Over the years, life and the world around him had sucked all the hope out of him and stomped on it before his very eyes. He came up in the West Side, after all.

But when Riff dared to imagine the potential outcomes buying the shop would bring, hope was the only word that was truly adequate to describe what he felt. The shop could be a place of belonging, even more than it already was, for the rest of the Jets. The shop could be a true home for him. The shop would be able to provide him and the rest of the guys with a way to make money honestly and could allow them to put their days of stealing and shoplifting to an end. And when Riff thought about how proud Roxie would be of him if he was able to pull all that off and what that could mean for their future, the hopeful feelings bubbling inside him only grew.

It hadn’t even been a day since that conversation had happened and the tiniest amount of hope he had within him had been killed once again.

Maybe Riff would be able to find that hope again and keep the promises he’d made to Roxie about trying to be better. Maybe he wouldn’t. All Riff knew for certain was that the damn Puerto Rico mural had gone and thrown a wrench in everything.

…

It was early evening by the time Riff finally made his way back to the shop.

He entered the side door of the garage and was greeted with the sight of the Jets staring at him. Some were sitting on closed toolboxes scattered on the floor, others were leaning up against the workbench on the far wall, and the rest of them had taken a seat on the stairs leading up to the landing. Riff needed to talk to them, but he couldn’t help but feel a little surprised to see that they had been waiting for him at the shop since he left.

Maybe they’d been able to cool down a bit and make Riff’s job easier for him.

The door shut behind Riff with a gentle click and an immediate silence fell over the room.

“How’s it goin’ boss?” Diesel asked cautiously.

Riff looked at Diesel with a blank expression. “Ya know… just took a walk.”

“I heard those can be good for the head,” Mouthpiece noted optimistically.

“Since when do you know ‘bout what’s good for the head?” A-Rab scoffed.

Before any arguments could start, Riff held up a single hand and effectively silenced the both of them. “I think I owe all of ya an explanation…”

Riff looked at Ice, who was leaning up against the garage wall to the left of the side door. Ice was looking at him curiously now, but Riff wouldn’t soon forget the look Ice had given him in the park that morning. Riff should’ve told the rest of the Jets about Tony sooner, but Riff really should have at least clued Ice in about it. Riff trusted Ice, and Action, with the whole business about the trips to the gambling houses a few weeks back, but Riff hadn’t confided in them about Tony. It was hardly surprising that Ice may have felt a little betrayed, and if he was, Riff didn’t blame him.

Riff cleared his throat quietly and looked back at the rest of the Jets. “Now, uh, I ain’t one for big speeches, so I’ll keep this short…”

The more Riff looked at any one of them in particular, with their wide eyes and leaning-forward stances as they waited for his next words, the more quickly he forgot his painstakingly thought out words he’d planned to say. Riff forced himself to move his eyes across the room and refused to look at anyone for more than a few seconds at a time.

“Tony is back,” Riff confirmed. “He’s been back for a few weeks. And Tony is… he’s still Tony, but his time upstate messed him up a bit. He just wants some time to clear his head, ya know? And yeah, I probably should have told ya sooner, but with everything going on with the Sharks lately, I didn’t think it was good timin’.”

“But that’s why we need Tony!” Snowboy insisted. “How we supposed to take on the Sharks without him?”

There was some audible agreement from several of the guys.

“We’ve been handlin’ these streets since Tony got shipped upstate,” Riff reminded all of them. “Whether or not he’s back don’t matter. Besides, if we really need him, I know he’ll come through.”

“But the wall, Riff?” Big Deal asked. “That was a slap to the face and a open challenge if I ever seen one.”

“We don’t know that it was the PRs,” Numbers sighed, and judging by the tone of his voice, Riff could tell that he had suggested as much once already, if not several times.

“Fine,” Diesel quipped, “If the Sharks really ain’t got nothin’ to do with it, why’s the City stickin’ it’s nose in our business?”

“They’re gettin’ the neighborhood ready for the new fancy schmancy residents,” Gee-Tar realized out loud. “They’re sayin’ this place ain’t for us no more.”

“Well, we’re still here!” Balkan exclaimed.

“Your right, we are,” Riff conceded. “And we ain’t goin’ no where.”

Even louder audible agreement echoed through the air as many of the Jets whooped and hollered in response to Riff’s rallying words.

“Listen,” Riff continued, pausing momentarily to ensure he had their undivided attention. “What happened to the wall is rough, I won’t deny ya that. But we can’t do anythin’ ‘bout it… at least not yet.”

“So, what, we just supposed to let them get away with it?” Diesel questioned. “Boss, we’ve put the hurt on guys for a lot less.”

Here we go…

Riff exhaled a light sigh and planted his feet a bit firmer on the concrete ground as he debated how to phrase his next words. “This is gonna sound crazy, I know, but hear me out… What if we didn’t actually have to beat the Sharks?” Confusion was visible on nearly every single one of the Jets’ faces. “What if we just had to outlast ‘em?”

Though confusion was still the predominant reaction Riff could see, some of the guys, like Numbers and Ice, seemed to be picking up on what he was hinting at, or at the very least, they seemed curious.

“What do ya mean by that?” Ice questioned.

“Unless the PRs strike gold, their time ‘round here is runnin’ short, and they know that,” Riff stated definitively. “But us? What if we already got gold?”

“Gold? Where?” Mouthpiece asked, the metaphor going right over his head.

Riff raised his hands up to gesture to the air around them. “Right here.”

It was quiet for several moments as the rest of the Jets looked glanced around the shop and began to process the meaning behind Riff’s words. And he’d be damned, some of them didn’t seem too upset by the notion at all.

“I know it’s crazy,” Riff admitted once again, “and it’ll take some work. But if we could just-”

Riff was cut off when the side door to the garage opened behind him.

Ice’s eyes went wide. “What the hell happened to you?!”

Riff turned and was met with Action, who was giving him a cold look as he took a wobbly step into the garage. As he slammed the door closed behind him, all eyes of the rest of the Jets fell on him.

Action’s right eye was swollen and there was a cut on his lip that seemed pretty fresh. Blood began to run down his chin but he swiped it away with his arm.

It was with slight guilt that Riff realized he’d failed to notice Action’s absence when he returned to the shop just a few minutes before. “Where have ya been?”

Action’s eyes narrowed and he chuckled darkly. He walked past Riff and took a few more steps so that he was in the middle of the shop. He held his arms out wide in some dramatic gesture. “I was out standin’ up for us and the wall.” Action started to point at the rest of the Jets, one by one. “While all of yous were sittin’ in here talkin’ and mopin’ like a bunch of whiney kids, I took charge to try and make things right.”

“What happened to ya?” Riff asked shortly, though he already had a good feeling what Action was about to say.

“Ya know what defendin’ all yous got me?” Action asked the group. “It got me jumped by the Sharks.”

Hearing what Riff had already suspected said out loud made his blood start to boil. “The Sharks jumped you?”

Action nodded. “First it was two of ‘em. That was fine- I held my own. But then a whole lot of ‘em came along and decided to join in. Hell, if Anybodys didn’t come along and distract ‘em, I’d still probably be gettin’ pummeled.”

“Where’s Anybodys now?” Diesel asked.

“The hell if I know,” Action answered dismissively. “All I knows is the Sharks went chasin’ after ‘em and I took the chance to slip away and get back here.”

Riff wanted to reprimand Action and Anybodys as his accessory for going rogue and starting trouble with the Sharks. They’d both directly gone against his order to play it cool for a bit and avoid picking fights.

Not to mention the fact that Riff had an opportunity he wasn’t sure he’d ever get again. He’d been just about to really start to sell the guys on the idea of focusing on the shop in lieu of focusing on the Sharks when Action’s chaotic self had stumbled in with the mess he’d created of his own accord.

… But the more Riff thought about it, the more Riff realized that he was far more pissed by the notion that the Sharks thought it was fair for a handful of them to jump Action. Real tough, goin’ after a Jet all by himself.

“What’re ya gonna do ‘bout this, Riff?” Action demanded, turning around to face him once more.

“What do ya mean?” Ice asked Action. “He told all of us to lay low, and no one asked ya to go defendin’ the wall.”

Action ignored him completely and continued to stare Riff down. “What’s it gonna be? You gonna let ‘em get away with jumpin’ me, all by lonesome self?”

Riff said nothing.

“Today, it was me,” Action continued. “Tomorrow, it could be someone like Baby John.”

The Jet in reference perked up a bit at the mention of his name. Baby John was a bit of a ways away from Riff, sitting on the staircase beside Little Molly. Riff watched as Baby John’s attempt at a tough composure slipped and signs of worriedness began to show through.

Then, Riff’s eyes shifted to take in most of the other Jets, who were looking right back at him. The thoughtfulness they’d exhibited just a few moments before was long gone. The idea of what had happened to Action and what could happen to any one of them next, even someone like Baby John, had riled up anger and frustration within them one again.

They wanted blood.

… And a part of Riff did too.

“Would ya be able to point out who did this to ya?” Riff asked Action quietly.

Despite his injuries, and the slight swaying he was doing most likely as a result of an injury to his foot or ankle, Action smiled at Riff’s words. It was clear he’d gotten the reaction he’d wanted.

Action nodded in response.

If the Sharks wanted to play dirty, Riff and the rest of the Jets could be game.

Riff had a feeling Roxie would be upset when she found out. But, technically, he wasn’t starting anything. It was just payback. They were just going to give those couple of Sharks what they were owed.

An eye for an eye.

It was time to see how serious Roxie was about giving him some time to do better.

————————————————————————————

“Riff, I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

Two nights later, Roxie finally had a night off work. Riff kept his word of taking her out on an actual date and had swung by her apartment just before dinner time.

As silly as it sounded, it was nice to see him. It had only been a day. Roxie hadn’t been able to make it to the shop since Monday, and the previous night, Roxie had been surprised to see Diesel waiting outside the factory after her shift instead of Riff. Diesel told her Riff had something to take care of, but that he would see her the following night.

That had led to Riff leading her across the neighborhood to an old diner. It was on the far end of the neighborhood, several blocks away from where their lives seemed to be centralized. It was basically on the outskirts of the neighborhood, and it had been quite a walk.

On the way over, Riff seemed happy, but Roxie could tell that something was a little off. Maybe it had something to do with whatever he had been up with over the past day, she wasn’t sure. She couldn’t tell exactly what it was, but she planned to find out.

As soon as they arrived, Riff had turned to her with a slightly apprehensive smile as he gauged her reaction upon seeing the diner. Despite the thoughtfulness of his gesture, her worry forced her to state her honest opinion.

“Listen, we’re still in the neighborhood,” Riff said reassuringly, squeezing her hand that he was holding a bit tighter. “I just thought, since we used to come here a bit,” he continued a little nervously, “we should come back to it for our first date.”

Roxie was very familiar with the diner in front of them. She should’ve known Riff’s intentions the moment he led her more than a few blocks away from her apartment.

It was a diner they used to frequent often on their way back from gambling houses in the neighborhood over.

The diner used to be open all hours of the day. From the looks of it, that was still the case.  It had been convenient at the time, considering the late hours of the night Riff and Roxie found themselves coming back to the neighborhood. Sometimes, they left the gambling houses so late that their rumbling stomachs greatly outweighed the prospect of sleep.

One night, as they were heading back from a neighborhood over on the East Side, they’d seen the diner. There’d been hardly a soul around, save the waitress and cook they could see through the windows inside. The recollection of that night’s earnings was all the further convincing they needed. Judging by the look on her face, the waitress had wondered what a couple of kids their age were doing out in the middle of the night. But she’d served them and taken their money without saying a word.

Compared to the newer diner that Roxie had been meeting Velma at over the summer, this one paled in exterior comparison. The lights outside weren’t nearly as bright and the metal accents on the building were dull, not shiny. But this diner held more sentimental value to Roxie than the other one ever would.

Roxie would have been over the moon at the gesture, if she wasn’t so worried about its proximity to the East Side neighborhood where they’d seen that man murder that other one in an alley almost two years ago. Not to mention the fact that many of the old gambling houses they’d gone to, even one from a few weeks before, were only a few blocks away.

“Roxie?” Riff prompted, breaking her from her thoughts.

We’re still in the West Side, Roxie repeated Riff’s notion to herself in an effort to calm her rising nerves. “I’m sorry,” she replied. “Do you have money for this?”

“I told ya I would take care of everythin’,” Riff reminded her.

“But I know how tight money has been with the shop. I’m not going to dine and dash-“

“I got money,” Riff promised. “Besides, this is kinda like our place, ya know? I wanna be able to bring ya here whenever ya want. I can’t do that if I piss off the staff.”

Touched by his words, Roxie smiled at him. A moment later, she led the way inside, lightly pulling him along behind her.

Given that it was a Wednesday night, the diner wasn’t too crowded even though it was dinner time. The two had gotten their drinks fairly quickly and ordered their food within five minutes of sitting down.

Once their waitress walked away to put in their order, a comfortable silence fell over the pair.

Roxie looked over at Riff, who was staring at her with a small smile on his lips.

“What?” she asked him with a small laugh.

“Just lookin’ at my girl,” Riff replied nonchalantly. “Wonderin’ how I got so lucky.”

Roxie pursed her lips as she tried to prevent herself from blushing a bit. Damn him.

“If I’m this lucky, I ought to see if it could actually pay out,” Riff said with a mischievous smile. “Maybe I made a mistake in promisin’ not to go back to those old haunts of ours.”

The thought of Riff going back to a gambling house, with or without her, immediately killed the blush Roxie had been fighting off and she frowned. Pointing a finger at him, she said evenly, “That’s not funny.”

Riff snickered and reached out to grab her hand. He laced their fingers together and gently guided their hands down until they rested upon the table. “I’m just kiddin’, Doll.”

Roxie let out a small sigh and looked at their intertwined hands. A warm feeling began to seep in at the sight, until she caught a glance of something odd.

Calmly, so as to not give any indication that she had noticed, Roxie looked back up at Riff. He was still looking at her sweetly.

“I miss you yesterday,” Roxie said.

“I missed ya too.”

“So… what were you up to?”

Riff’s steady breathing faltered ever so slightly. “Just some Jet business.”

“That late at night?”

Riff shrugged and refused to meet her eyes.

“Does it have anything to do with the wall?“ Roxie guessed.

Riff’s eyes shot up and locked with hers once again. “Ya know ‘bout that?”

“I live across the street, Riff. I can see it from the entrance to the building.”

What had happened to the wall was a shame. Roxie knew most of the Jet’s contributions to the wall by sight. Though she never knew explicitly what any of their paintings meant, she had a pretty good idea about a few of them. It was understandable that Riff and the rest of the guys would be upset by what had happened.

The wall had been vandalized and painted on by various gangs for many years, so it made sense that a day had to come where the City would want to clean it up once and for all. They had to start tidying up the neighborhood for all the rich folks who would start to move in.

But the homage to Puerto Rico was certainly an odd choice. Weren’t they in America? Weren’t the Puerto Ricans in just as much jeopardy as anyone else of getting evicted and forced to move on to somewhere else?

Regardless, Roxie had asked Betty about the mural Monday afternoon when she had returned from her lunch with Velma. Betty informed her that the rumor mill said the City was hoping to showcase some of the local culture with the content choice of the mural.

It seemed a bit ironic, painting symbols of Puerto Rican independence under the guise of a cultural display. If any of the Puerto Ricans had painted the mural themselves, Roxie had a hard time believing that the police would be willing to let such a thing slide. The City must’ve been able to willingly tolerate such displays, but only if it was their idea to install them in the first place.

Roxie glanced down at Riff’s hand once again. Though she’d held hands with Riff earlier, she hadn’t noticed something in the dim light from the setting sun.

Riff’s knuckles were bruised. That could only mean one thing.

“Did you get into a fight?” Roxie asked him calmly.

Riff immediately withdrew his hand from hers and placed it under the table and out of her view. However, his eyes did not leave hers. “… Not technically.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Let’s just say I didn’t start nothin’,” Riff replied cryptically. “… But I did finish it.”

Disappointed was an understatement for what Roxie felt. It was just a week ago that Riff had promised to try and do better and not get into trouble. She had foolishly assumed that he knew that meant no fighting, but perhaps she should have made that explicitly clear.

Riff began to shift uncomfortably the longer she stared at him. “Look, I know I told ya I’d try to be better, but one of the guys said they got jumped by some Sharks,” he explained. “And if they’re tellin’ the truth, the Sharks started it. My hands were tied; I had to prove to him that I still have his back.”

“I hope whoever it is is trustworthy,” Roxie snipped.

“He is.”

“Who was it?”

Riff pursed his lips.

Roxie gave him a few more seconds to come clean, and when it became clear that he was not going to give her an answer, she sighed in defeat.

“Tony was right,” Roxie said. “You’re not going to be honest with me, are you?”

Riff’s brows furrowed and he shook his head. “No, I meant what I said,” he insisted. “If it’s anythin’ ‘bout us, I’m gonna be an open book.” He leaned back in his sat a bit as if trying to get more comfortable. “But trust me, it’s better if ya don’t know everythin’ that’s goin’ on with the Jets.”

“Are you actually concerned about me, or are you just worried I won’t approve if I know what you’re really up to?” Roxie countered.

Riff said nothing.

“Maybe it’s both, then,” Roxie theorized. “If you’re part of the Jets, and I’m involved with you, I ought to know what’s going on, Riff.”

“And I’m telling ya that I can’t tell ya everything,” Riff argued stubbornly.

Roxie stared at him, silently willing him to cave and change his mind or at the very least spill the information she’d asked about.

But Riff was resolved. He learned back further in the booth seat and crossed his arms across his chest. His eyes remained fixated on hers. It was clear that he was not going to budge, at least not right at that moment.

Roxie wanted Riff to own up to the fact that he had contributed to furthering the tensions between the Jets and the Sharks. She wanted him to fess up and apologize to her for even getting into another fight at all.

But there was something else in her mind that was nagging her as she watched him hold up his stubborn front.

What had Velma said?

You have Riff’s ear, now.

Roxie could try to push Riff on the issues at hand, and maybe she’d get somewhere. But she probably wouldn’t. Riff would likely just pull away from her, just as he had that night in her aunt’s old apartment two winters back.

If Riff pulled away from her now, she wouldn’t have the chance to talk him out of doing something really stupid and dangerous.

A rumble.

There was also the fact that the thought of her and Riff calling it quits a second time nearly broke her heart just thinking about it. The first time had broken her heart for certain. The second time, god forbid there’d be one, would be even worse. They’d been through too much together.

The feelings Roxie had for Riff were more intense than they’d ever been. They’d only been back together for a week, but the feelings she had seemed to be increasing exponentially with each passing day.

Come hell or high water, Roxie was beginning to realize that she would have to see the relationship with Riff through to whatever end fate had in store for them.

So if that meant being patient with him at that particular moment and going against her better judgment, if only this once, so be it.

“Did you talk to the guys about possibly buying the shop?” Roxie asked, changing the subject.

Riff seemed slightly off-put by her question. He must’ve thought she’d insist on arguing with him. Two years ago, I probably would have.

“I didn’t exactly have an opportune moment to really get into it…”

“Just try,” Roxie insisted calmly. “Did you talk to Tony?”

Riff did a double take at her second attempt to change the direction of the conversation in less than a minute. “I’m workin’ on it… Are ya gonna stop naggin’ me soon? You’re not my Ma.”

“It’s a shame, maybe you’d actually listen to me if I was,” Roxie replied quietly.

Riff’s eyes narrowed a bit at her words. “If you wanna make this a true fight, be my guest,” he told her plainly. “Just know it’s gonna be real awkward when I still have to walk ya home at night.”

“You wouldn’t have to,” Roxie disagreed, though she had no intention of holding him to her suggestion. “I’m not scared of the Sharks.”

“Well, maybe ya should be…”

“Why do you say that?” Roxie questioned. “All this fighting is for the boys. Girls are kept out of it, you know that.”

Riff remained silent.

“Unless there’s a reason why the Sharks would be motivated to antagonize us…”

Riff looked at her a bit hesitantly, and Roxie’s blood ran cold.

“Riff, I swear to god, you better be joking,” Roxie hissed through her teeth. “I better never, ever catch one word of any of the Jets even looking at any of the Puerto Rican girls, or any other girls, for that matter, in a less than savory way. If I do, you better say your goodbyes to them now, because I will kill them with my bare hands.”

The look on Riff’s face as he considered her threats was not the one she’d been expecting. Based on his behavior earlier in the evening, she half expected him to make some crude defense in their behalf. But she should’ve known better.

Despite her violent words, Riff looked at her with a small smile, and she wasn’t sure what to make of that until he quietly muttered his response.

“You’d follow in your old man’s footsteps, huh?”

The two refused to look away from one another as a tension began to form around them.

It wasn’t necessarily a cheap shot, she knew that Riff was aware of what had happened. Hell, she had been the one to tell him. Of course, it had only been out of necessity in order to correct some disparaging rumor his uncle had told him, but he still knew the truth of it.

But it was bold of him to reference the matter in public, and it wasn’t something she was quite comfortable with. Still, if he wanted to be bold, she would meet him halfway.

“I will if I have to,” Roxie vowed solemnly.

Riff continued to hold her gaze for a few more moments. Finally, he glanced down at the table and the tension that started to build quickly faded away.

“Well, how ‘bout I don’t even let it get that far, and I keep you outta prison and with me, huh?” he suggested. “Besides, if I heard of any of them doin’ anythin’ like that, ya wouldn’t even get your chance at ‘em.”

“No?” Roxie challenged.

“No,” Riff repeated. “I’d take care of them myself.”

His tone was solemn, and there wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he meant every word. His words suggested something very dark, just as dark as her own threat. But in some sick way, hearing those words from him comforted her.

At least they were still in agreement on some things.

“What happened to womb to tomb?” Roxie asked curiously.

“Still stands,” Riff acknowledged. “But there ain’t nothin’ sayin’ ‘bout how they get from sperm to worm.”

It was at that moment that the waitress dropped their food off at their table.

Unsure of what else to say, Roxie began to dig into her meal. She didn’t notice Riff had yet to touch his food and was staring at her until a minute or so had passed.

“What?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Riff prefaced carefully. He no longer looked frustrated, and his usual calm demeanor had once again taken over. He gave her that lazy smile that she’d never be able to get enough of.

“I don’t like all this fightin’ with you,” Riff admitted. “But it’s good to see that the fighter is still in ya.”

Roxie didn’t bother to fight the blush that rose in her cheeks this time.

……………

The two continue their meal in considerable peace and contentment, blissfully unaware that they had been spotted and recognized by someone of interest sitting at the counter across the diner.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please feel free to interact if you enjoyed. :) If you would like to be added to the taglist, let me know! Tentatively planning to post the next part on next Saturday, 3/19.

A/N: UPDATE 3/19: Next part is planned to be posted on Sunday, 3/20. Thank you for your patience!

TAGLIST: @whisperofsong @disguisedbassethound @lingerasthesmokeoncedid @westsidelegendary @sallymakesstuff @youngteenagehearts @wombtotombx @loverisi @wnygirl2012 @b-bella9 @princessmiaelicia​

Part 16

Masterlist

[coco-goat-milk]

ello! may i request aether, albedo, and jean with reader who has two visions? (basically todoroki!reader)

Todoroki! reader x Aether, Albedo, Childe and Jean

Pronounce: She/him/they, no pronounce mentioned so i won't either!

Warning: Slight spoilers for Todoroki and Aether, Albedo and Childe, violence (a little bit, nothing concerning), implied family abuse

A/n: Moshi moshi~ dear anon, Yes ofc you may. I hope this is what you wanted!

Please check my rules before requesting!!

Aether

First time meeting:

You saved him from a cicin mage, he wasn't paying attention and he got sneaked up on.

When he saw both of your visions he was very intrigued! You just saved him, and you are also very attractive..wait not the time-.

He thanked you for saving him, but you just said that you didn't do it for him.

He was a little shocked by your cold voice, but you didn't mean it like that (you are just socially awkward)

Paimom called you rude, you just grabbed her lil’ legs and yeeted™ her.

Legend says people can still hear high-pitched screams in the distance, fly high(away) paimon 🕊

When you two get together:

Paimon would scream at the two of you to stop being so awkward.

It's kind of endearing, but like just hold hands already!?!??!?!?jehdfhisjb

In the beginning you are kind of unemotional but when the relationship progresses it changes a lot.

You try to understand his emotions but sometimes it's just hard, but he has a lot of patience so that's very nice!

He brings you a lot of flowers, and he is just a blushy mess when he gives them to you while you are more dense but when he explains it you are very grateful (you now bring him flowers as well)

If and when you tell him about your ‘daddy issues’ he will be there for you to talk it out and if you want hugs!

He will feel really sorry for you, but he will lovingly kiss your scars and support you very much (tbh you cried the first time he did that)

He would be really impressed and proud of you when you use the both of your visions, like shawty i see you *lip bite*

He would love to meet your siblings, and your siblings are very supportive over him since well he is amazing isn't he<33

The dates consist of getting soba! He also tries to buy you soba since you love it, whenever he can.

*Casually punches Paimon away from your soba*

He is probably your biggest simp, but as he should because your hot asf.

It's a very healthy relationship and I think it is very cute as well!

Albedo

First time meeting:

He was very curious of you and wanted to ‘study’ you, you didn't take that lightly and were about to leave.

He explained that he just wanted to study you because you have two visions and he never saw such a thing before.

You two had a staring contest right after that, both of your faces were basically : 😐 (it was kinda creepy ngl).

Sucrose was standing there awkwardly and questioning her life choices.

When you two get together:

A quiet but cute relationship, I think you would be very glad that it was a relaxed relationship.

He draws you a lot, like each day you have different paintings/drawings of you.

He finds a lot of inspiration when he is with you<3

He doesn't really know his feelings but that's fine bc you don't either, yuh 2 socially awkward babies. The both of you have a lot of patience with each other because the two of you understand each other.

Honestly i really love the dynamic. Sometimes it's kind of awkward and hard since you two struggle with feeling but it's okay everyone's love language is different!

I think your love language would be a gift, Klee helps you pick flowers for Albedo!

If you decide to tell him about your family and your past...he will be shocked he doesn't know what to say or do...but he will suggest making a poison- what no no no you don't want to kill your dad :).

Albedo be like : this is my 13th reason to destroy mondstadt.

But he supports whatever you choose!

He really really really wants to study you, and maybe just maybe you will let him. (because you are a simp)

When you use your vision, he gets even more curious about you :0 wow he is very impressed by your display of raw strength!

Again he will probably study or draw you<3

This is such a cute dynamic. I think it also fits very well because the both of you can take things on your own time in your relationship!

Jean

First time meeting:

She was very curious when the knights introduced you to her..

First of all, how do you have two visions?

Second of all, why do you have such a big scar on your face?

Third of all, why are you so hot...wait what-?

She was very curious and Flustered by your presence, she also thought you were quite...intimidating and aloof.

When you two get together:

Ah yes my wifey mwah mwah <3

She is a busy person so you make her less busy <3 /srs

You help her with her work, because my baby is overworked and Mondstadt doesnt do shit. (I love the city but not the people don't attack me pls)

She really gets flustered each time you give her a kiss on the cheek or just a hug, and you're just confused ??

The first time she met you she thought you were very intimidating but your just socially awkward.

The two of you are Mondstadt’s most beautiful couple <3

When you tell her about your ‘lovely’ dad, she honestly feels so sad for you,, how could he do that. She will ignore your dad and take care of you so much if you want to. (she even takes a day off just for you <3)

She is more careful around you now, she often asks if you're comfortable or if you need a break or anything like that.

“My love, are you alright with me holding you?”

You tell force her to take breaks, you then take her for picnics or just cuddling<3

You also like to take her for a cup of tea and a book!

When you use your visions, she is shook 😮. She will ask a lot of questions about it and why you have two visions.

She is also very proud of you, you not only take care of your siblings but you also take care of not only one but two visions!

She is so supportive of you, but she needs a hand too..so you will be the one to give a hand to help her!

Whenever you feel insecure about your scar, she will reassure you and love you. She will put loving kisses on your scar <3

Honestly such a healthy and cute relationship.

Childe

First time meeting:

You just wanted to steal your dad’s mora bruh 😔

But the annoying pest named Childe saw your scar and the two of your visions.

Being very curious of both, he approached you and (pestered) talked to you, you just blankly stared at him.

You literally walked away and he started walking after you, you started walking faster and so he started walking faster...creepy Childe very creepy :|

When you two get together:

I don't know how he got together with you...he probably gave you money/j

Anyways he probably flirts with you a lot but you are just confused, and he then coos at you for being so cute and you are literally like ???

He thinks your intimidating side is very attractive, and will remind you of it everyday.

But when you compliment him back he just becomes so stiff and flustered.

When you tell him about your family and why you got the scar, he will become very protective over you. He will also be confused why would someone like you get hurt by their own family? He himself has a family and he would never do anything to them to hurt them, he actually would do anything to protect them!

He is more protective over you now, and say goodbye to your dad💀

He would love to meet you siblings, i mean this guy has a few siblings himself so i think he would be quite good with yours as well! He will treat your siblings as his own now.

He will also be more careful around you now, trying not to awaken trauma, y'know.

Anyways, he will really want to fight you and he is even more impressed that you can wield two visions!

I think the opposites of personalities is actually very nice, and I think it's a great relationship.

[aurorablue22]

Kitchen Table - Sirius Black x Reader (smut)

Summary: Sirius fucks you on the kitchen table. Uhh yeahh just smut! My first time writing smut so be warned!! Also, this can be young or post Azkaban Sirius, I never specified. Only that he was your husband! 

Warnings: Use of pet names (love, darling, baby, puppy), mention of daddy kink, mention of fingering, oral (male receiving), slight praise, clitoral stimulation, penetration (female receiving)

(A/N): Hi my lovelies!! Just wanted to let you know that I’m taking requests for Harry Potter and Marvel characters, so don’t be shy to reach out! Also, feedback is greatly appreciated! <3

You weren’t fully aware of how it happened. All you knew was that one moment, you stood in your kitchen, swaying to music with your husband, and the next, your clothes were on the floor. 

You giggled as Sirius peppered kisses all over your shoulders and collarbone, followed by him picking you up and laying you on your kitchen table. 

“Sirius!” you gasped, trying to mask the lust that was coursing through your veins. You turned your head to look at him, and he gave you a toothy grin. You had to refrain yourself from drooling as he tugged off his shirt, then proceeded to yank down his trousers. All that was left was his briefs.

Sirius sat himself on the edge of the table, then made his way over to your bare and quivering form. He put his weight into his hands as he hovered over you, simply admiring your body. 

“What?” you smiled. To this day, he never failed to make you blush. 

“You’re just... incredible, my love.” he stated, his gray eyes searing holes into your own. 

Once again, you were at a loss for words. How did he manage to do this every time?!

You slowly raised your left hand and placed it at the base of his neck, and you gently pushed him forward. Your lips finally collided, and the two of you began to move in sync with each other. You parted your lips, and Sirius took that as an invite. His tongue slid into your mouth with ease, and you felt tingles down your spine when he let out a guttural groan. 

Your right hand made work of moving south, and you began palming Sirius through his boxers. He liked to pretend he was some cool, tough guy in front of his friends, but around you he was all fluff. You were further reminded of this when he let out a whimper. Oh, that sound gave you butterflies. 

You smiled into the kiss when Sirius’ hands began trailing down your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He paused when he got to your waist and proceeded to hook his index and middle finger beneath your undergarments. They were removed at an agonizingly slow pace.

Sirius started leaving kisses on your upper thigh, clearly trying to tease you. But you weren’t having it.

“Sirius, I need you, now.” 

“Oh c’mon darling, have patience for Da-”

You pushed his chin upwards, making sure to hold eye contact. “Now, Sirius.”

He seemed pleasantly surprised. “Well I knew you were desperate, but really...” he trailed off, perhaps talking to himself. 

He sucked on his fingers, prepping them to enter your folds. As he was about to slip them in, you stopped him. 

“In me, Sirius.”

“Well that was the plan love.”

“No, in me. Please baby.” you pleaded, jutting out your bottom lip just the tiniest bit. 

He seemed to get the hint. “Alright pup, but I don’t wanna hear any complaints about how you weren’t prepared.”

You had to refrain yourself from squealing. 

You watched intensely as he removed his briefs, and with one sharp tug of the fabric his member appeared. He stroked it a few times, gently sliding his thumb over the tip, until he was fully hard. 

He smirked at you, looming over your figure. “Want to get it nice and wet for me puppy? Can you do that for me?”

You nodded excitedly and crawled towards him. He rested on his knees as you bent down to take him in. Your tongue slid over his sensitive tip, and you basked in the hiss that left his mouth. Slowly but surely, you took him in, letting him hit the base of your throat. Sirius fought the urge to buck his hips, but let it slip a few times. He hummed in appreciation at the gargling and choking sounds you made. 

It was only when he began to feel that familiar knot building in his stomach that he had you stop. He took hold of your hair and gradually slid your mouth off of him. “I think that should be enough, my love.” You felt your cheeks heat up from the praise. 

For the second time that day, he laid you on the kitchen table, but this time it was followed by spreading your legs apart. He cherished the view in front of him. Your husband placed his thumb over your delicate clit, adding light pressure and a circular motion. Your back arched at the sensation, and you let out quiet, breathy moans. 

It was then that he sheathed himself inside you, taking great care to make sure you weren’t experiencing any discomfort. He let out a sigh of relief when he’d fully made it inside of you, and waited for your signal to start moving. 

You had closed your eyes, but once fully adjusted, you nodded. It was as though you could feel Sirius beaming at you. He only half-removed himself, before beginning to thrust. He kept up with your demands, increasingly going faster and faster. His beautifully sculpted hands remained tight on your hips, surely leaving some sort of mark for the next day. 

You tilted your head back to meet the hardwood of the table, and shuddered as your climax neared you. With his relentless thrusting and the clitoral stimulation, it threatened to hit you any minute now. 

“(Y/N)..” he paused to let out a few cuss words. “(Y/N), baby?”. 

Oh Merlin, you loved when he used your first name. 

“Mmm?” was all you managed for a reply.

“Where do you want me to c-cum?” You didn’t fail to notice the stutter in his words, nonetheless his thrusts. 

“On m’tummy Siri, please?” 

“Works for me,” he smiled, in a bit of a daze. He was foolish enough to think he’d be able to hold off longer, but as you hit your high and your walls shuddered around him, he was forced to drag himself from you. You sighed happily as your stomach was painted in milky white. 

The two of you remain there for a moment, just catching your breath, before Sirius hopped off the table. He bent down to kiss your forehead, before out of the room. You sat up, confused, wondering why the hell he left you there. 

But, your husband never fails to surprise you. He returned from the bathroom with a facecloth soaked in cool water. You relaxed and enjoyed the comfortable silence as Sirius cleaned you up. That is, until he spoke again.

“So, what’s for lunch?”