#I don't think she loves me enough at this point

[heavyhitterheaux]

Good Intentions

See Me Through You Fic

Synopsis: An argument between you and your twin ultimately leads to an argument between you and your fiancé who calls you out about your actions and tells you how being overprotective isn't a good thing

Pairing: Fiancé!Joe Burrow x Fiancée!Reader

Series Masterlist

Requested by: by boo @hoodharlow 💕

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

AN: This takes place during Ja'Marr's rookie season. You are still at LSU and taking summer classes

The last thing your twin ever wanted to do was hurt your feelings, but all in all he had had enough and had reached his limit when it came to you being overprotective.

At this point, it was honestly suffocating.

It had been this way since the two of you were born and although Ja'Marr was grateful to be able to get along with his sibling since he knew not everyone did, something had to give. Yes, the two of you would talk to each other multiple times a day, but it seemed as if his phone had been ringing nonstop since he landed in Cincinnati.

As soon as he was going to text you and tell you that he wanted to talk about the situation, his phone was ringing indicating that it was you….

Again.

Taking a deep breath, Ja'Marr answered.

“Yes, Pebbles?”

“Bam Bam! Are you okay? How's everything going? I miss you. Did you eat breakfast already and take your vitamins?”

“I'm fine. I was fine when you called me two hours ago too…. at six in the morning. I miss you too. And yes to both of those questions.”

“It's just so weird not having you here and I hate it. I'm so proud of you, though. I always knew you would make it to the NFL because I saw your potential and how good you were. What do you have planned for today?” You asked as you were currently at the nail salon trying to decide on the color that you wanted.

You would be reunited with both your brother and fiancé in three weeks and you had been counting down until the last minute.

“Same plan that I had two hours ago. Just trying to get settled. Go explore the city a little bit.”

“Okay, well I guess I'll let you do that. I like how you're still getting an early start.” You told him as it was still barely eight in the morning.

“Wait, Pebbles can we talk?”

“We'll talk later when I call you back. I'm at the nail salon. Give me like an hour or two. They're ready for me. Love you!”

“Love you too.” Ja'Marr quietly said before the two of you hung up and he quickly looked up at Joe who was sitting across from him and half asleep himself since you had requested once again for him to head over to Ja'Marr's to check on him.

“You have got to tell her because this is insane. I feel like I've seen you more in the past week than I did my whole two years at LSU.” Joe told him as he shook his head.

“I just… I don't want to make her feel bad because I know she means well.” 

“But this cannot keep happening. I'm surprised she hasn't told me to make you move in with me so I can keep an eye on you. That's probably going to happen by the end of the day.”

“I'll talk to her once she calls me back later.” Ja'Marr replied, but if he was being honest he was actually dreading this conversation.

“You mean in five minutes?” Joe asked and Ja'Marr couldn't help but to laugh.

“I should time it and see how long it takes for her to actually do it.”

“Well in the meantime, I'm going back to sleep. But I know I won't be able to sleep for long before she's calling me back too.” Joe said as he got up and grabbed his keys making his way towards the door.

“I just hope she doesn't take it the wrong way.”

“I think everything will die down once she's actually here in person.”

—

When you had finally gotten out of the nail salon after admiring them and taking multiple pictures and had got settled in your car, you called Joe to see what he was up to and to also check on your brother. It was hard not being able to be with your brother as well as your fiancé since you had gotten accustomed to having both of them. 

You were taking a few summer classes which delayed you spending time with him in Cincinnati. Luckily, you only had a few weeks left until you would be able to.

“Hi baby! My nails are pink! I took a picture and sent it to you.” You proudly told Joe as he had you on speaker and was looking at the picture as you were telling him.

“I love them. Can't wait to feel them scratching down my back.”

“I… behave yourself!”

“I am behaving! I can't help that I miss my girl.”

“Aww, I miss you too. I just wanted to take this class so it will lessen my load come next semester. Anyway, babe, can you go and check on Ja'Marr?” You sweetly asked and Joe couldn't help but to roll his eyes and was thankful that it wasn't a facetime call. He knew that it was only a matter of time.

“Baby, I was literally just over there three hours ago. I'm not going over there again.” Joe told you as he was trying to make himself a smoothie and started to get ingredients out of the fridge.

“But I have to know if he's okay!”

“Y/N, are you going to let him be an adult or…?”

“He's my baby brother! And you told me that you would look out for him once he got to Cincy. And since when is he an adult?! He is still three in my eyes!”

“Princess, I am looking out for him, but you are being extremely overprotective and Ja'Marr is scared to say anything because he doesn't want to hurt your feelings. How long are you going to try and hold his hand for? And he became an adult the minute that he turned eighteen.”

“If he had a problem with me calling him so much, he would tell me. He tells me everything.” You said and Joe scoffed.

“Uh? What was that sound for? See, you're the youngest so you probably don't understand! I have been looking out for him since forever! I have so many responsibilities on my shoulders being the oldest.”

“Older by three minutes. And you need to calm down and let him be. You are in the wrong here, but won't admit it. Nothing wrong with checking on him, but babe this is borderline obsessive.” Joe explained to you as he was now cutting up the fruit he wanted to put in his smoothie.

“Joey, what the hell!? He's the only sibling I have.”

“I'm your fiancé and I'm always going to be honest with you. I don't care if it's something you don't want to hear or agree with.” 

“There is literally nothing wrong with what I'm doing.” 

Joe couldn't help but to roll his eyes once more. 

“Okay, baby. Since you don't think it's bothering him, hang up and call him. Then call me back and tell me what he says.”

“Fine, you’ll see.” You said as you shrugged even though Joe couldn't see you.

Once you hung up with him, you called your twin and he didn't even give you a proper greeting before he started to go off on you.

“Y/N, what could you possibly ask me about now?”

“Whoa, what's the attitude for? And I thought you wanted to talk to me? You always want to talk to me.”  You asked as you were caught off guard.

“Don't you have class, or practice, or SOMETHING that you can occupy your time with instead of calling me every five minutes?”

“I… Ja'Marr I just want to make sure you’re okay. You're my baby brother and my twin. Only one I have.”

“Yes, I know and you will NOT let me fucking breathe. Like got damn. I've only been here a damn week and all of my calls are basically from you every two minutes. Yes, Joe is checking on me and making sure I'm good. But I don't need a babysitter. He's also getting annoyed because you tell him to come and check on me ten times a day!” Ja'Marr told you unable to hold back any longer. 

“But… you turned your location off. I need to know where you are. You never turn it off. What's up with that?”

“NO YOU DON'T. I'm good, that's all you need to know. All you have been doing ever since I got drafted was be extremely overprotective! Mom and dad aren't even this bad.” He told you as he was being completely honest.

It was quiet for a few seconds before you decided to say anything, obviously hurt by his reaction.

“If I'm bothering you, I'll stop. I just miss you is all. But I can see that I'm causing more harm than good. So I'll hang up now.” You said with tears threatening to fall from your eyes. 

“Wait, Pebbles, I just…” Now Ja'Marr was regretting his approach because he now knew for a fact that he had hurt your feelings which he was trying to avoid doing.

“Bye, have a good rest of your day.” 

You didn't give him a chance to finish as you quickly hung up and wiped away the tears that did end up falling. Figuring that you were also probably bothering your fiancé just as Ja'Marr mentioned, you decided to send him a text instead of calling him again.

You- I'll stop asking for you to check on him

Joey- Baby, I don't mind checking on him. Just tone it down a little bit. I promise you that he's okay. If he wasn’t, you would be the first person I told.

You- No, I'm not asking anymore at all. If he wants to talk to me, he will and I'll leave it at that. I guess I'm bothering you too so I'll let you be. Talk to you whenever.

Joey- Princess, stop being ridiculous. You aren't bothering me.

You- Ja'Marr said otherwise so goodnight

“Shit.” Joe muttered underneath his breath before typing a response back to you.

Joey- It is literally 11 in the morning and you're being petty

You- I can tell time, goodnight like I said

For the rest of the day, your phone had been blown up by Joe but you weren't budging. Ja’Marr had been eerily quiet, but you definitely weren't about to say anything to him.

He wanted space so that was what he was going to get. 

If he felt like you were being extremely overprotective and also bothering Joe with your antics, you were simply going to keep your distance.

About a week had passed and Ja'Marr honestly felt weird.

He hadn't talked to his big sister and since it was out of the ordinary, when certain things happened he didn't have anyone he would immediately run and tell about it.

That person had been you.

He had been leaving you messages here and there with no response from you.

Joe wasn't any better and you would be sending him one word answers to his text messages while declining his facetime calls despite him wanting to call a truce.

He came to the conclusion that you were obviously still hurt by the argument that had taken place, but he needed to fix this before you came to see him in two weeks.

Well, if you still wanted to see him, that is. 

Because as of right now he wasn't so sure. 

It was now around six in the evening when you and Erin had just gotten back from going shopping and you had begun to put away your clothes in your closet when you heard Erin's phone ring as she was sitting on your bed.

“Oh no.” She breathed out and you looked at her in confusion.

“What?”

“Your baby daddy is calling me.” She told you and you quickly rolled your eyes.

One thing about Joe is if he knew you were mad at him, nine times out of ten he's calling Erin to check on you because he knows that you'll keep ignoring him.

“I'm not talking to him right now.”

“Wait, didn’t you tell him goodnight at 11 in the morning the other day?” She asked while laughing.

“Yes, and I meant it.”

“Let’s see what he wants.” Erin replied as you quickly shook your head no before exclaiming it.

“NO!”

“Too late. Hi Joey!” Erin said as she waved at him with you quickly rolling your eyes.

Great, it was a facetime call too.

“Hey Erin, where's Y/N?”

“In front of me and I told her to call you so that the two of you could make up but she's being stubborn.” She told him and you promptly rolled your eyes.

“Can you pass her the phone?” He politely asked and she quickly nodded. 

“Sure.”

It took a minute for you to take the phone from her, but once you did, you didn't greet your fiancé but simply stared at him.

“Baby….”

“What? What do you want?”

“Lose the attitude. And I’m just checking on you, have you talked to your twin at all?”

“Nope, and I don't plan on it. He asked me if I had something to occupy my time with instead of bothering him and here we are. And I thought I told you goodnight already?”

“Princess, he wants to talk to you and apologize but you wouldn't know that since apparently you've been ignoring him. And you told me that damn near a week ago. We communicate with each other in this relationship and this needs to end tonight.”

“Okay, can I get back to watching my shows now?” You asked as you had now moved from your room to the living room and turned on Netflix with Erin behind you.

“No, talk to him first and then we need to talk.”

“Well I don't know how that's going to happen because I'm not calling him.” 

“There's no need to, he's right here.” Joe told you and quickly passed the phone to Ja'Marr.

“Wait, what?”

“Pebbles….”

“Wow, the minute I say I'm going to stop calling you, look who decides to come crawling back?” You told him and Ja'Marr quickly rolled his eyes.

“You need to shut your petty ass up so I can apologize.”

“I will jump through this phone and tackle you. Fuck a D-line.” You shot back and he let out a deep sigh.

“Like I was saying because I am ignoring that last statement. I never meant to hurt your feelings and it did come out kind of harsh.”

“Kind of? That's putting it lightly.” You muttered as you were deciding which show you wanted to catch up on.

“Y/N!”

“I'm just telling it like it is.”

“Anyway, I'm sorry but we have got to come to a compromise because we can't keep doing this.”

You sighed before answering him, but quickly nodded in agreement.

“I'm sorry too, but the only way I'm forgiving you is if you door dash me some food.”

“Already done. Honey old bay wings, all flats. Should be there in the next ten minutes.”

“Oh, you are definitely trying to get back on my good side. But on a serious note, I promise to give you more space and I never want you to feel like I'm suffocating you. I just… it's kinda lonely here now. I do have Erin and Alisha but…. I have literally never been away from you.” You confessed as Ja'Marr nodded.

“I know and it's going to take some time for us to adjust. But we'll get there. We good now?”

“Yes, we're good.”

“Now stop being a petty ass fiancée to my best friend.” Ja'Marr said as he eyed you and handed Joe back the phone.

“Babe?”

“Yes, princess?”

“I'm sorry and you know I love you. And yes I need to work on my communication when it comes to you and stop shutting you out.” You told him while you got up off the couch to grab a drink from the fridge.

“I don't know how many times that I have to remind you that I'm not him. I care about how you feel and am always willing to meet you halfway. I asked you to marry me for a reason. I love you too.” 

“Sometimes I swear I don't deserve you.” You whispered and Joe simply shook his head.

“We deserve each other and we're going to continue to make our relationship stronger because once I slip that ring on your finger next summer, that's it. You're mine forever and whatever problems may arise, we simply have to figure it out together. We're a team, okay?”

“Okay.” You quietly said as you smiled at him.

"See you in two weeks, princess?” Joe asked with excitement dripping from his voice.

“Two weeks and not a day more.”

[genderqueerdykes]

Hello, my niece made this account for me and said I should submit my question to your blog. I’m terribly sorry if this doesn’t belong here. I turned 65 this year and have recently come to accept that I am gay. I have never been on a date with anyone in my life and have never had a social circle. I was only ever close to my brother and sister-in-law and their kids. I only came out to my niece because she’s 30 and bisexual and has been a safe person to talk to, but she has been trying to encourage me to go to a group that she has gone to before. It’s a group that meets at a coffee shop in our city and is for the local lgbtq community. Allies can attend so I don’t have to come out, but I’m scared I will want to. I feel too far past my time to join the community or have a “first boyfriend.” Am I too old for all of this?

this absolutely belongs here, i'm glad your niece helped you create an account here to get some advice, i'm actually really touched!! this warmed my heart a lot

you are DEFINITELY not too old for this!! no one is ever too old for community! elder queers are some of the most important members of our community- if anything, if you go, younger queer people will be over the moon to see someone your age, still identifying as queer, still living, still wanting to be yourself and to accept who you are. it's nerve wracking at first to think about. i joined my college's pride group when i was around 19 or so, and i was scared to death. i also felt like i didn't belong. i think a lot of queer people go through that, you are not alone! it's unfamiliar to you. you're taking a big step in life, change can be downright frightening even if it's what we want

i have met lots of people your age who did not realize they were gay, lesbian, trans, bi, or any other type of queer until much later in life! i've known trans men who didn't figure themselves out and start T until they were in their 70s! i met a trans woman last night who didn't realize she was trans until she turned 60! i think that coffee shop would be absolutely delighted to have you! you don't have to out yourself at all, but if you find yourself feeling comfortable enough to share, please feel free to. your story deserves to be heard. you deserve to be able to express yourself in a welcoming environment!

i hope you're able to go, i think that sounds like it would be very healing for you! i'm really proud of you for realizing who you are and accepting it, and i'm glad your niece is able to be there for you! i genuinely teared up reading this. you are a blessing on our community, not a burden. you will never be too old to be yourself, and surround yourself with people who get you. take care of yourself, okay? please feel free to stop by at any point! i am so happy for you and would love to hear how things go if you do decide to hang out at that coffee shop!

some wonderful additions:

[quzen]

A lovely Happy Birthday to Aya!!

(his birthday is Dec 25th)

Summon: It's far too early for this....Where is my book??

Groovification: My Birthday isn't an excuse to wake me up like this....Though I suppose i can get back to reading.

Home: Do you want to hear about the story I read?

Swap Looks: I hoped the hood would make me less approachable...instead it just gets Atlas to poke fun at it...

Home Transition 1: I think I'll find myself more books today...or a new game. I deserve at least that on my Birthday....

Home Transition 2: Atlas feels the need to drag me out and about for my birthday after he figured it out....I wish he wouldn't.

Home Transition 3: I got a gift from Riddle today, a book I hadn't read yet. We haven't spoke much but I appreciated it.

Home Transition - Login: Sigh...Seriously? Can't even have a break today?

Home Transition - Groovy: I'm pretty sure Housewarden saw me trip over my own two feet while reading...I can't tell if me or him was more embarrassed by that....

Home Tap 1: Don't get used to seeing this...it's embarrassing enough.

Home Tap 2: Despite not having any plans myself, Atlas has practically a schedule for my birthday. I haven't even spoken to half of those people or care for half the activities...But I appreciate that hes trying I guess.

Home Tap 3: Cater got me star lights for my birthday. I'd say I'm not sure how he knew, but i think i know who told him so. Still don't know how he knew I liked stars though...

Home Tap 4: Back home, Ma would've made a cake and a bunch of sweets for today. I'm not particularly fond of them but she made them so, maybe I'll bring some from home some point.

Home Tap 5: I think i may hide away with the Hockey club for the rest of the day, I can at least rely on Mozie not to make a big deal of this...I'd stay in my dorm room but well, Atlas would find me...

Home Tap - Groovy: Oh? You're interested in this book? I'm slowly working through it, but Riddle had given it to me a while back. It's actually pretty good, coming from him that is ehehe.

Duo: [Aya]: Birthday wishes....from you? That's unexpected... [Cater]: Well it is your Birthday! Can even do a photo for the occasion. (might be a bit long apologies)

Birthday Login Message: Hello... Eh? My Birthday? It's really not that big of a deal as others make it out to be. Atlas had me dragged out all day so I'd rather not deal with more social gatherings, even if they had been a little fun....If you really want to celebrate with me, we can play a game or read..quietly.

If you wish to have the Ignihyde Relax BG blank feel free to ask!

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Extra cream and sugar.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader Words count: 5295 Rating: +18, NSFW, MDNI. Summary: Frankie is your barista, every morning you walk into his café asking for a tall coffee with extra cream and sugar. He dreams of giving you another kind of cream… Tags: Frankie's POV, brief description of reader and what she wear but no mention of her skin tone, she doesn't blush, she has hair but it's not described (she's you, baby ♥︎) , reader has her own business, pining, yearning, slow burn, Frankie is eager for you, masturbation, obviously mention of coffee and sweets, a side of Christmas (just a glimpse), soft!Frankie, kinda rom-com vibes but we go smutty 😏, unprotected p in v (reader is on the pill but still, do better irl), cream pie, nipples play (At this point you know me so you expect it, right?), reader rides him cowgirl style (yeehaw!), teasing, Frankie wants you to tell him exactly what you want from him, pussy pronouns, Frankie is smitten with you bb, no age gap, mention of alcohol, derogatory pussy eating (because it's Frankie, you know), oral (m! receiving), masturbation, dirty thoughts, dirty talk, some more filth I probably don't remember. Please, excuse me, I'm posting this almost 2 am as the usual mess that I am LOL. If I forgot something I will add it asap. I wrote a temperature in Celsius degrees somewhere in this fic, I don't know anything about Fahrenheit, sorry, I'm Italian. A/N: This fic is my Christmas gift to all of you who support me and have loved my Frankie so much in the past, I really didn't think so many people would like him 🥹 And it's especially dedicated to @baronessvonglitter who gave me this prompt around November, I promised her I would do something with it and this is the result 🤭 No beta, no proofread, no nothing, we're going down with this ship, please have mercy. I really hope you like it and I wish you happy holidays, love you all ❤️

Frankie had been noticing you for weeks. You would arrive every morning at 10:30 and ask for tall coffee with extra cream and sugar. 

He thought you looked lovely, with your sexy dresses, a dainty necklace around your neck, little makeup except for a red lipstick on your gorgeous lips. 

You were the highlight of the day. He had decided to open a café after retiring from the army because there was nothing he wanted more than to live a quiet life. He had seen enough pain and destruction for two whole lifetimes, all he wanted to take care of now were coffee blends, foamed milk, blueberry muffins and chocolate chip cookies. 

He loved arriving in the morning and quietly opening his place, arranging the pastries in the display cases, turning on the coffee machine, setting up the tables, and getting everything ready while waiting for the city to wake up and the customers to start arriving. You were his favorite since you first appeared before him almost 3 weeks ago, but who was counting?

You were pretty in the truest sense of the word according to him, radiant, elegant without striving, charming and nice.

He had started waiting until 10:30 just to see you, with butterflies in his stomach in anticipation and his heart pounding in his chest as soon as you walked in the door.

The first time you had spoken to him he had been enchanted by your eyes; he could have sworn they were the most beautiful he had ever seen. He had not heard a single word you had said and had made you repeat the order, apologizing. 

You had laughed, and your sweet laughter had resounded in his ears like music. It had never happened to him, not even once, but at that moment it was as if everything else in the world had stopped and only you existed. 

“One tall coffee to go, extra cream and sugar, please,” you had patiently repeated.

You looked so pure that it seemed almost immoral to him the way his jeans had suddenly become tight. 

He had shaken himself, trying to come to his senses, hurriedly headed for the coffee machine. He had prepared your cup to go and set it on the counter in front of you "cocoa? sprinkles?" he had stammered, awkward and nervous. Heck, he'd spent years in the military, he could fly a damn helicopter, his business was going strong, but in front of you he felt like he didn't know what to do with himself.

"Uhm..sprinkles, thank you," you had smiled.

He had sprinkled colored heart-shaped sprinkles on the cream -- so pathetic, he had to admit, but they seemed to suit you --, closed it with the clear plastic lid and handed it to you, all with fear of spilling something and making a mess. 

"It looks so yummy, thank you" you chirped handing money to him.

“Thanks to you, um, come again,” Frankie had stammered, running his sweaty palms over his apron. 

He had watched you leave, your ass swaying deliciously wrapped in your skirt, and a whiff of your perfume had reached his nostrils, filling them with a heavenly flowery scent. 

It had taken him a few seconds too long to pay attention to the next customer, a rather impatient middle-aged man who had ruined the magic you had brought into his café.

He had hoped you would come back all evening, and the next morning he woke up even earlier than usual, showered, stood several minutes in front of his closet thinking about which of his shirts you might like best, even wasted time adjusting his beard. He had even contemplated not wearing the cap he always wore with fear that you might find it silly, but in the end habit won out. Besides, he had thought, I might as well show her who I really am. That is, assuming she comes back. And if she doesn't come back? He had felt so disappointed at the idea. Maybe you hadn't even liked his coffee in the end. Once at the café, he had kept himself as busy as possible so as not to drown in false hopes, but he had found himself staring at the clock more often than he would have liked to admit. 

At precisely 10:30 a.m. you had entered. You were even more beautiful than the day before, wrapped in a little flowery dress, your beautiful legs exposed, your sweet scent in the air.

He knew absolutely nothing about you, had barely spoken to you and yet his palms were sweating again, his throat was as dry as a desert, he nervously switched his weight from one leg to the other, standing behind the counter as he watched you approach.

“Good morning,” you had said, with a sweet smile spreading across your face.

“Uh...good morning,” he had stammered, ”what would you like this morning?” 

“Tall coffee to go, extra cream and sugar, please.” 

Your melodious voice had again gone straight to the crotch of his pants. 

“Same as yesterday” he had said ”coming right up.” 

“Oh, you remember!” you sounded surprised. How could he have forgotten the most beautiful creature who had ever set foot in his café?

“Um, yeah, it's my job after all” he had clutched his shoulders. He didn't remember orders from customers who had been coming to him for months, he had memorized yours instantly. He didn't need to let you know anyway. 

“That's so cute,” you had observed while continuing to give him that amazing smile.

He had turned to make your coffee feeling your eyes behind his back, he was so nervous that he almost burned himself pouring the coffee into the cup. 

He had managed to avoid it by a whisker; he would have hated to look clueless in front of you. 

“There you go,” he had smiled nervously at you, ”be careful, it's very hot.”

“I will, thank you” you had answered him softly. 

You had paid him and headed for the exit, turning to look at him before pushing open the door “Have a good day” 

“Oh, thank you, you too” he had replied, his voice hoarse with excitement.

That evening he had surrendered to his lowest instincts and as soon as he had jumped into the shower after a long day's work, he had allowed himself to close his eyes and think about you. 

He had tightened his hand around his cock and thought about your scent, your smile, how your dress deliciously enveloped your tits, showing off your cleavage.

He had imagined kissing you and feeling the softness of your lips, lowering a hand between your legs and discovering that you were not wearing panties, running his fingers over your wet folds and then bending over in front of you and making you come with his tongue. 

He had lingered in these fantasies as he pumped his cock faster and faster, stroking the tip, imagining that it was your delicate hand doing it, your red-enameled nails wrapped around its length. 

He had come in his hand, soiling the shower wall, uncontrolled, totally enraptured by the wonderful vision of you in his head.

____________________________________

He had continued to play it cool for three weeks, but by now every time you came in his head was just thinking “say something more than ‘good morning’ and ‘be careful not to burn yourself’ and ‘have a nice day,’ you idiot.” Ask her something, find out if she's involved with someone.”

So one morning he finally had attempted “Do you work near here?” he had asked, handing you your usual coffee. 

You had hesitated a moment before answering, “Actually, yes, just a stone's throw away. You know that jewelry store that opened three weeks ago? That's mine.” 

“Oh, great,” he had said, straining not to smile like a sucker. 

“Yeah, I'm a jewelry designer, I finally got to open a store with my own brand, I'm very excited.” your eyes twinkled with pride and Frankie had thought you were so incredibly beautiful that he wanted to kiss you there and then. 

You had held out your hand to him and said your name, and he had shaken it with his heart in his throat. 

“Nice, and nice name by the way” he had replied instead, ‘did you make that one?’ pointing to your necklace. It had a small star-shaped pendant. 

“Yes, do you like it?” you had asked, brushing it with your fingers. 

“I like it very much, it looks good on you.” 

“Thank you,” you had replied, smiling, ”well, if you have to give any gifts to your girlfriend or wife, come by and see me.” 

“Uh, actually, I'm not married or even engaged.”  He babbled, looking at you embarrassed.

“Oh. Well, I see.” and then in a lower voice and winking at him you had added, ”Can't say I'm sorry.” 

Holy fuck, you were flirting. 

His cock had twitched at your wink; he couldn't believe that all this time you had been reciprocating his silent interest. 

“I have to go back to work, now. Have a nice day, Frankie,” you said, smiling and heading for the exit. 

He was dumbfounded a few seconds wondering how you knew his name, since in the heat of the moment he hadn't even told you. Then he had looked down at his shirt, where his name tag was pinned.

“I like your cap, by the way,” you had said before you left.

“Oh. Thank you. I like your dress," he had replied a little too loudly, so much so that people at the tables had turned around cackling.

You looked at him one last time with a smug expression before disappearing down the street.

____________________________________

Christmas was coming, as much as it may have felt like Christmas in Florida with 26 degrees during the day. Frankie had decorated the café with small silver decorations at the windows, a small Christmas tree near the counter filled with lights that were also silver. 

While decorating however, the only thing he was thinking about was you. He had done everything early in the morning, before opening, wondering what you were doing, if you had just woken up and were stretching in bed with your hair tousled and your eyes still clouded by sleep. He wondered what you were wearing to sleep, wondering if you were a babydoll type or more of a T-shirt and shorts type. 

Or maybe you were sleeping naked. He daydreamed of your florid body wrapped in your sheets, the soft curve of your ass, your breasts, your nipples brushing against the cotton fabric.

“Shit!” he exclaimed, realizing that he had dropped one of the balls he was putting on the tree, which had ruinously fallen to the ground, splitting into a thousand pieces on the floor.

He rolled his eyes as he went to the closet to get a broom and dustpan.

Maybe it was time to stop fantasizing and get moving on asking you out. 

He was terrified that you would say no but he had to do it before someone else tried. Someone like you wouldn't be alone for long.

You had entered the venue at the usual time, admiring the decorations. Frankie felt a small surge of pride in the middle of his chest as you approached the counter. “Oh wow, this is so festive, I love it.”

He knew he had just smiled like a dork but he didn't care. 

In your brief little chats you had mentioned that you were not originally from Florida so he took the opportunity to ask, “Are you going to visit your family for Christmas?”

You had smiled, squinting slightly, with that look that was now familiar from when you noticed his true intentions. You had given it to him with every attempt he made to flirt with you.

“Um no, actually Christmas is the best time to work for me. So I'm going to stay here.”

He had felt his heart do a little jolt in his chest as he struggled to find the right words to ask to take you to dinner.

He felt like he had never been so awkward in his life, but the truth was that he really liked you and made him nervous with your innate confidence and the sensuality you exuded. 

 “Well, if you'd like to go out sometime, I'd be happy to” he babbled.

“Gladly.” you had replied, looking at him -- he would have sworn -- mischievously.

“So...um...how about Saturday? Is 7 okay?”

“Perfect. You can pick me up at the store.” you had replied, fiddling with your pendant. 

“Okay, well...see you soon then.” 

You had leaned over the counter for a moment, signaling him with your finger to come closer, and when you had been close enough to his ear you whispered, “It's about time.”

You had left while your voice still rang in his ears like a siren song.

On Saturday night Frankie was so nervous that he had changed his clothes four times. Finally he had decided that a blue shirt and a pair of jeans would do. Maybe. 

You had said you liked his cap but he had decided it was not appropriate to wear it to take you to dinner, so he had left his hair wet and styled it back with a little gel.

He arrived at 7 parking in front of your store and entered looking for you. 

You weren’t there. He had looked around and the place was just like you, elegant but not overly so, bright and warm. 

There were small display cases filled with bracelets, rings, necklaces, watches even. 

All very fine, carefully crafted things, not that he understood much about jewelry but they looked well made and high quality to him. 

You had put little window decorations similar to his own, and he couldn't help but smile as he looked at them.

Not only you were beautiful and funny, you were also talented and smart enough to run your own business,  a strong independent and brilliant woman with ambitions.

He felt a jolt down his spine feeling unworthy of you with his simpler and quieter life. 

You had appeared from the back after a short while "Oh there you are! Hello!” you had greeted him with a smile, approached him and kissed his cheek. He had brushed your arm as you leaned closer, feeling your soft skin under his fingers and his heart bouncing in his chest. 

"So what do you think?" you had said, gesturing to the place.

“I can't say I'm a connoisseur, but it looks like a beautiful store to me,” he had said. 

“Thank you. I really like your café, too.” 

“Oh, that’s nothing compared to this” he brushed off. 

“I don’t think so, your coffee is so good and that cupcake I tried the other day? It was heavenly. I would say you did a great job with it” you insisted and he felt suddenly better.

"Well I actually… I don't bake them, I get them from a supplier.” He had admitted.

“You have good taste anyway.” You had shrugged, smiling.

The hold you had on him was ridiculous at that point, you could have said whatever to him and he would believe you without hesitation. 

“Let me get my purse and close the store and then we can go.”

___________________________________

Frankie had tried to behave like a real gentleman, had opened the door for you, complimented you on the dress you were wearing  -- continuing to ogle your thighs while you were sitting next to him -- , asked you things about yourself, your studies and your life while driving to the restaurant. 

The more you chatted the more comfortable he felt, you were witty, subtly flirty, exactly what he expected. 

Truth was that he would have jumped on you immediately but he was trying to control himself so you wouldn't think he was a creep. 

His cock however was of a different opinion, his jeans were starting to get really tight and he was afraid you would notice. You had a smirk on your face, something that made him think it was possible that you were desiring him as much as he was desiring you but he didn't want to risk making a wrong move.

“I'm sorry not to see your cap tonight” you had joked and then added ”your hair looks good though.”

“Thank you.” 

“And I like the shirt,” you had said, lingering with your gaze on his outstretched arm holding the steering wheel. 

He had decided to take you to one of his favorite restaurants, nothing too fancy because he wouldn't feel comfortable, the place was warm and familiar and put him at ease. 

He had asked for a table with settees, to have a chance to be closer and talk more easily. 

Maybe even reach out a hand to your beautiful thighs, if he had any luck.

You had ordered and he had chosen a wine, you had continued talking, and you had asked him several questions, very politely, without making him feel like you were interviewing him.

“So you were in the army...and you can fly a helicopter. Heck, I never would have guessed that. I like a competent man,” you had cooed, and he had felt his neck and face on fire. God, he wanted you so badly he felt like he might explode at any moment. 

“Yeah...apparently,” he had replied proudly.

“And how did you end up opening a cafe?”

He had become serious, feeling that he was about to open up about something very intimate “Well...I actually couldn't take that life anymore. It's very hard, you know. When I got discharged, I thought all I needed was to live a quiet life without slinging a rifle for hours and playing with danger 24/7.”

You had nodded, “sure, that's perfectly understandable. It must have been brutal.”

“It was. I decided to open a coffee shop because well... basically, I love coffee.”

You had burst out laughing, a full, lovely laugh that had made it difficult for him to keep his hands in place resting on the table.

“It makes perfect sense,” you had agreed immediately afterward.

You had kept talking until you had said, “So, Francisco Morales, I have a question for you.” your expression was enigmatic and he didn't understand where you were going with this. 

“Go ahead.” 

“Why haven't you kissed me yet?”

He had chuckled, “Good question. And I really want to do that. I've wanted to do it from the first moment I saw you,” he had admitted.

“Then do it,” you had urged him. 

He had moved closer toward your lips, breathing in your perfume mixed with the scent of your skin; you smelled good, clean, like a sunny morning in spring.

Your lips were even better than he had imagined. Soft, delicious, inviting. You were incredible. 

Everything around was suddenly gone, there was only you and the way your lips encouraged him to continue, the way they had parted at the approach of his tongue, your intoxicating taste on his tongue. 

Your fingers lingered on his biceps, wandering over his shirt and down his forearm, while his hand wrapped around your face caressing your cheek.

He had pulled away from you a moment before putting on a show inside the restaurant, his hands tingling with the urge to touch your breasts, reach down between your legs, get rid off your dress and finally feel your body against his.

“God...maybe we should go,” you had whispered, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. 

“I think so, too,” he had breathed.

He had stood up trying to keep at bay his erection pressing impatiently against his jeans.

He had paid the bill and escorted you out, despite your insistence to go halfsies. 

Once you reached the car he had not resisted and had kissed you again, pushing you against the door. “I want you so bad,” he had whispered against your skin. 

“Take me home,” you had replied, looking into his eyes in a way that drove him crazy. 

Once in the car, you had placed your hand on his leg squeezing it from time to time. At a stoplight, you had moved your hand to his hard-on, massaging it slowly. “God, you are naughtier than I thought.”

"Is that bad?" you had asked feigned innocence.

“Not at all, baby...if I'm being honest...fuck...” he had interrupted when you had squeezed harder on his cock ”Christ, I can't wait to rip that dress off you.”

“I’m glad to hear that” you had replied in a honeyed voice. 

_________________________________

The instant you had entered the door he had dragged you into the bedroom. 

He had pulled down the zipper of your dress, letting it fall at your feet, and pushed you onto the bed. 

“You're so beautiful.” he had whispered, almost more to himself, as if trying to convince himself that indeed everything he had imagined in previous weeks was coming out of the territory of his wanking material.

“You too,” you had replied sweetly, ”why don't you get rid of those clothes and come and get me?”

Frankie hadn't had it repeated, standing naked in front of you in an instant; he had never undressed so quickly even when he was in the army and had to observe a curfew. 

He had stretched out beside you, his cock semi hard, his hands roaming over the bare skin of your hips over your panties, reaching up to graze your lace bra, brushing against your exposed neck as you lay limply sprawled on his bed as beautiful as a goddess. 

“Tell me what you want me to do, baby,” he had whispered.

“What you want, I-” you had tried to answer but he had interrupted you.

“No, tell me, please. I would like to hear it. I would like you to tell me exactly what you would like me to do to you.,” he had urged you “is that okay?”

“Yeah” you murmured 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes. I like it…so uhm…Undo my bra and play with my titties, first. Would you?” You cooed.

“Of course, honey” he replied

You got up to sit to ease it, and then you lay down again as he tossed the bra to one side.

Frankie's eyes were fixed on your exposed breasts, he reached out a hand surrounding one of them with his palm, marveling at the softness of your skin.

“Jesus, I’ve never seen anything more perfect” 

Your skin exuded an enveloping warmth that flowed through his body and merged with him. He moved a finger closer to your areola, circling your nipple very slowly and then pinching it suddenly, making you gasp.

“Too much?” 

“No…go on” you sobbed “please”

“How?” He pressed you gently, continuing to brush your nipple with his fingertip. 

“With your mouth…” you murmured.

He was full hard at that point, his cock grazing at your thigh while he lowered himself on your of your tit, sticking out his tongue and making you arch your spine as soon as he kitten licked your nipple. He smirked “mmm so sensitive, baby” before wrapping his lips around your bud and beginning to suck slowly, his beard pinching lightly against your skin.

His tongue brushed over you in short thrusts as he sucked greedily, his hand slowly descended over your torso, over your tummy, down to your mound and had stopped there, just above the hem of your panties. 

You groaned beneath him, melting at his touch, he could feel your body slowly becoming more pliant to him.

“Yes - oh my god - go on like that” you whined and he couldn’t help but smile on your skin. 

“What more do you want me to do?” he had asked, and to your discomposed groaning he had replied ”with your words, remember?”

He liked that you were slowly losing control, your barely half-closed eyes glazed with pleasure silently pleading with him.

“Touch…touch my pussy. Please”

He had moved his fingers down from your mound, slowly, over your folds, feeling your body tense deliciously. 

His index and middle fingers had slipped between them, bathing in your essence. 

"God, you're soaked," and you had panted. 

You looked like a dream to him, your hair disheveled on his sheets, your legs spread wide for him, your breath coming in short gasps, your little pendant that rose and fell on your chest as he worked in your cunt with his fingers, lingering on your opening, going up to your clit and barely touching it, leaving you eager and hungry, just as he wanted.

"mmm more, please" you had begged and a smirk had unfolded on his face "be more specific, baby" 

“I want ... fuck ... I want you to put them in me.” 

"Yeah? You want me to finger-fuck this pretty cunt?” He purred, while stroking your labia, gently circling your clit with his thumb.

“Yes” you had sighed and he had easily entered you, slipping into your arousal. 

He had curled his fingers looking for your special spot as you squeezed them hard “Oh damn...right there...God Frankie...right there” you had whined as a swell of pride was spreading in his chest and his cock throbbed. 

You had the sweetest pussy he had ever been lucky enough to see, the obscene wet sounds coming out of her as he never stopped moving his fingers inside you was heaven.

You were magnificent, just magnificent, his cock was begging for mercy but he had no intention of rushing it. He wanted to fill his eyes with you, he wanted to see you sink beneath him, to lose your inhibitions completely. 

Every fiber of his body longed for you but he stifled his need to take care of yours first; it was too good to see you like that, your pussy clenching convulsively, your mouth half-open, your moans filling his ears.

“I need...your mouth...”

“Where?” he had asked feigning naivete.

"On my clit...please" you had cried. 

He had moved, taking down your panties, lowering to reach for your clit, passing his tongue flatly all over it.

“suck it,” you had said in a whisper, ”please.”

And so he had done, taking it between his lips, savoring your taste on his tongue as you cried your last wail and broke down in shattering pleasure.

Your back had arched, your hand had flown through his hair as the other gripped his sheets tightly, and your hips pushed against his lips, your lips bent in a grimace of pleasure that radiated into your eyes, your pupils dilated, tiny droplets of sweat beading on your forehead.

“Yes… fuck… YES”

He had continued to lick and suck and push on your spot until you had calmed down.

But you were not yet satiated, as soon as you had regained the ability to speak you had whispered, “I want your cock.”

“Mmm baby” he had said arching an eyebrow, scrutinizing your face unmade with pleasure and your eyes still glazed with your orgasm.

“Really. I want it.”

You had accompanied this last sentence by wrapping your delicate hand around his length "he wants me too," you had said with a smirk, beginning to massage him, running a finger over the tip to collect the pre cum dripping down profusely from it. 

“who am I to say no to you...do what you want, baby” he had granted you. 

As much as he had tried to dominate, he had to admit that he was completely subdued by you, and he didn't mind it, he didn’t mind that at all.

You had gotten up and gently pushed him onto the mattress, settling between his legs, locking your gaze with his, a glint of desire in your eyes as you began to lick his engorged tip, sliding down his shaft humming in pleasure “mmm you taste so good” you cooed.

"God, baby, if you do this I'm not going to last long." 

He had craned his neck not to miss any of your moves, but he already felt he was on the verge of bursting, had tried to control his breathing and stay right on the edge, without plummeting down.

"Hold on a little longer, I want you to finish in my pussy. Please, Frankie?” You had purred.

He had let out a long sigh as your mouth descended on his cock, enveloping it as much as you could, continuing to stroke the rest with your hand. You had red nail polish, just like in his fantasies, but the reality was even better. Your mouth was incredible around his cock, your tongue vexing his swollen veins, your saliva sliding slowly going to pool on his crotch. 

“Please, baby,” he had grunted, and you had hummed in response, vibrating on his cock.

Your tongue had swirled over his red, swollen tip, then you had pulled away and said, "Please what?" glancing at him.

“Sit on me, please, I can’t…” he had groaned.

You had moved warily, straddling him, taking his cock back into your hand, aligning it with your entrance.

You had lowered yourself slowly, moaning "you are so thick" as he felt your cunt open up for him, your walls stretch and your essence coiling around him mixing with your saliva.

“And you are so tight ... fuck, baby, it’s so good.”

The instant you had sat completely on him had been unreal, he felt so deep inside you he swore he was pressing against your cervix, and you were squeezing him so hard he had thought he would lose his mind. You began to roll your hips over him, rubbing your clit with your fingers while your other hand was anchored on his hip. 

He had begun to move his hips in rhythm with yours, thrusting inside you “harder” you had urged him “please, Frankie” 

He was lost in the instant he had seen you bring one hand to your tit, kneading your breast as you continued to ride him faster and faster, pinching your nipple while rubbing your clit with the other. 

“I’m coming…fuck..where, babe?” He had stammered and you cried “inside, please, I’m on the pill.” You had thrown your head back immediately after, your eyes closed, your mouth open, your disheveled hair falling over your neck, seeing you so totally ravished had made him explode inside you, painting your hot, soaked walls with his cum. 

You were collapsed on top of him, wrapping yourself around his body while he was still pulsing inside you. You had waited for his breathing to return to normal by peppering his neck with little kisses, going up his jaw and ending on his lips.

He had hugged you tightly, reveling in your warmth, the softness of your breasts on his chest, your legs wrapped tightly with his, and the intoxicating scent of your skin.

You had hummed in the crook of his neck, then looked into his eyes and moved a lock of hair from his sweat-beaded forehead, kissing him one more time, his mustache tickling your cupid's bow. 

“From the first time I saw you, I knew we would end up like this, you know?” you had said with a proud undertone.

“Oh yeah?” he had replied, wryly raising an eyebrow, ”how were you so sure?”

You had looked at him with the look of someone who knows very well what she is talking about and had replied, “For three reasons. First, I noticed right away how you were looking at me, second, I wanted it too and usually when I want something I get it, and third, you never charged me for the extra cream.”

bb tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @harriedandharassed @milla-frenchy @almostempty @thundermartini @cas-readsandwrites @lemon-nomel

I would like to add a couple of special people that I am starting to know a little bit better and I like them a lot: @arcanefox207 @joelmillerisapunk @gothcsz @msjarvis

archive: @pedrostories

[firegirl888101]

Insatiable Madness

Diverted-Dimension (Christmas 2024)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

Why am I back here again!? Take me back to the canon!

Reader is Gender Neutral!

"Finally!" You cheered, stepping back to admire the Christmas tree in the corner of your living room.

"It looks good." Pantalone commented, looking at all the trinkets placed on the tree. "Although, I believe this gadget would look better placed there... And this bauble, yes, hmm, perhaps on the branch above rather than--"

Y'know, it always takes one person to ruin everyone else's happiness doesn't it? Especially when their name is Pantalone. You rolled your eyes, ignoring his fiddling with what you considered a complete and beautiful tree.

Let's just hope Columbina doesn't see him fiddling with her decorations. For Pantalone's sake, you pray she takes five extra minutes in the bathroom so he can have a safe getaway when he's finished with something he sees as necessary.

Anyway, you've been preparing for Christmas day tomorrow. You wanted to put up the tree earlier, not wanting to leave it this late, however being busy babysitting and making sure all the Harbingers go to work with a happy mood sure takes up a lot of time. Not only does it feel like you're playing a very dangerous version of the Sims, but more importantly, it sucks that when all of them leave you have to entertain the others that don't go to work in the first place.

"It feels like the tree is missing something." Dottore chimed in, standing back with a finger on his bottom lip.

"Please don't say that, The Regrator is already driving himself mad with his own activities." Arlecchino stated 

Ignoring those two... They're right, something seems wrong with the tree. But you used everything in the box, what could be missing --

Oh, of course! How could you forget!?

"It's missing an angel on top!" You pointed out, walking over to the Christmas box and rummaging around.

After a while of digging and loud crashing noises consisting of you throwing out whatever you thought could also be added, you found a dusty china angel missing a hand.

"Agh, this won't do." You scolded yourself. "We'll have to go with a star instead. I'll have to cut one out later."

"Cut one out? How are you going to cut a star out of the sky?" Childe asked with a bewildered expression.

"They mean they'll cut one out of paper you damn idiot." Scaramouche glared out of the corner of his eye.

"I often see the Children of the Hearth doing something similar when I pass by..." Signora thought to herself out loud, leaning on one of the arms of the sofa.

"Yes, the children love cutting out different shapes and animals. It just so happens stars are one of the easiest things to make." Arlecchino nodded in agreement.

If it's so damn easy, why don't you do it for me?? You grumbled with an angry grin. It took you a few days to learn how to cut a good looking star out of paper due to your clutzy fingers, how dare they call it 'easy' in front of you!

"Hm? Why do you look angry at me?"

"No reason." You answered her, sharply turning your head away from her tilted one. "Do I even have any paper left? Ugh, I might have to use lined paper and paint it using gold nail varnish if push comes to shove."

"Absolutely not." Sandrone interrupted you. "That sounds messy and unnecessarily more difficult than if you just bought yellow card."

"And where do you propose I get this yellow card? Out of my arse?"

"No." She looked repulsed. "The shop? I saw some in an isle."

"When and why did you go into the corner shop?" You caressed your head, sighing when hearing her solution.

"That's unimportant."

"Sure it is. Anyway, I need to start thinking about how I'm going to cook Christmas dinner--"

"Oh no you don't." Scaramouche interrupted you with a cold voice. "The last time you cooked a genuine meal that didn't include those 'instant noodles', you poisoned everyone who has an organic stomach."

"No way, the Balladeer cares enough about me to not want to see me bedridden again?" Childe gushed with a chuffed smile.

"That's not important!" You raised your voice with flushed cheeks. "How did you know that what I cooked was 'instant' noodles? I never told you that!"

"I asked a staff member in the shop down the street when I saw the exact same package for sale in one of the pasta isles."

"Oh my god, how many of you have been in that damn shop without me!?"

The room stayed silent, some looking away with a cringe whilst others looked at you with unbothered faces.

“Do I count? I’ve never left the house.” Capitano raised his hand innocently.

"Unbelievable." You cried to yourself dramatically.

"I can't believe he's still fiddling." Pulcinella sighed with judging eyes, watching the banker radically move around the tree mumbling to himself like a robot given an impossible task.

"So this is what happens when you don't give him something to do after a long period of time. Lesson learnt." Pierro sweated, coughing into a clenched fist with shut eyes.

"It's not my fault." He turned to the group with hysterical eyes, every so often one twitching. Considering his eyes are always closed, you’re impressed that his mania has managed to do the impossible. "The Decider won't let me do one of the things I'm best at, manipulating an economy. Denying me access to undermining this country's government is making me go mad!"

"What a lunatic." You ignored him, eyeing his antics as nothing more than a regular occurrence at this point.

"So, we're up for cutting a star for the tree then?" You turned back to the group.

"It's your decision and your tree, so of course." Signora shrugged.

"I'm baaaack!~" Columbina burst through the door like a canary, singing with a pep in her step.

She stopped when she saw Pantalone running around the tree, her energy from earlier vanishing as fast as a bird when hearing a gunshot.

"Erm... It's not what it looks like." He turned around slowly, feeling her menacing and dangerous energy piercing his back.

He put his hands in the air, his smile shaking in fear.

"It better not be what it looks like." Her smile contrasted his own. "Because it seems you've been touching something I specifically warned all not to touch.~"

"He's dead, he's actually dead." Childe commented on the sidelines.

"Amen."

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Sandrone left to go get yellow card whilst Columbina forced you to tear down the Christmas tree and start decorating it from scratch. She said it was a punishment for you also, due to letting him rearrange it despite hearing her warning. What bullshit, she just couldn't be bothered to do it again. Anyway, Capitano helped you hold the christmas tree up so you could wrap the tinsel around it without trouble. What a nice guy… even though he technically isn’t helping you with what counts most.

"I don't understand why we're cutting out stars. Can't we just use me as the angel?" Columbina giggled to herself.

"No, that would be weird." You frowned at her. "What I don't understand is why everyone is cutting stars with me. Didn't the majority of you say this is going to be boring? Do something else!"

"The 'something else' you're talking about was also boring." Scaramouche picked up his pair of scissors, tracing his finger on the sharp side.

“I’d much rather cut something up than count how many particles are in a cloud.”

“What does that even mean!?”

“Anyway,” Dottore coughed with an irritated stretching smile. “I propose we make this a competition.”

“Of all the childish suggestions–” Arlecchino was cut off.

“I agree, I agree!” Columbina nodded with a happy smile. “It can’t be too hard, maybe we should have a reward for who wins the competition?”

“Although I find the idea of a competition to be senseless, a reward does sound quite… boosting.” Pantalone thought out loud, a greedy smile on his lips.

“This is not happening.” You sighed to yourself, head planted onto the table with exasperation radiating off of your slumped form.

“But what reward could we put on offer? I’m not against competition, heck, I encourage it! But what could we all fight for which would allow us to fight at our strongest the whole time?” Childe leaned against his chair.

The Harbingers thought to themselves, the room erupting in silence with the occasional cough or sniff. All of a sudden, their heads turned and looked at you. Feeling their gazes burning into you, you looked up from the table to see them expectantly eyeing you.

“Ohhh no. No way in whatever thoughts you’re all sharing am I getting involved in this. I’m not becoming some trophy you can flaunt for the rest of the evening.” You denied them.

“But you’re the perfect solution!” Childe playfully pouted.

“Quit torturing them, Childe.” Signora scolded the young ginger. “I propose this; let whoever wins ask The Decider one question. That question can be related to anything, the future or the past.”

“Hmm, but how would we know whether The Decider wouldn’t lie to us?” Dottore suggested.

“I’m staying out of this one.” Pulcinella put his hands in the air, leaving the room. “You youngsters go have fun, I’ll sit this one out.”

“Rooster, I would suggest staying to supervi–”

“So you can go back to that dirty office you keep closing yourself in to work? No thank you, I shall handle your paperwork today. You supervise this time.” He gave the director a harsh glare, making sure to purposefully hit him with his walking stick before walking away.

“Sometimes I can’t tell whether the Rooster is secretly a teenage girl or is just simply strange…” Pierro muttered to himself. Sighing.

“How about both, mixed in with the fact that he’s a psycho with more control issues than you think.”

“Hm? You think even more than the Regrator?”

“Deffo.” You clicked your tongue. “He just hides it because he’s a champ like that.”

“Don’t change focus!” Scaramouche raised his voice. “I order you to answer me. You will tell the truth to the victor of the contest, no?”

“Hold on, didn’t we agree to ask our own questions once we deliver them to the Tsaritsa?” Childe questioned.

“That was just to get you to not hound The Decider back when we first found them.” 

“Fine.” You agreed with an eye roll, secretly crossing your fingers behind your back like a five year old. You’ll probably just make something up that sounds accurate when the winner asks their question. You’re betting that Sandrone will win this though, this kind of has something to do with her job after all.

“It’s decided then!” Columbina clapped in delight. “The Decider and The Director will be our judges. We’ll work for 10 minutes to create a star suitable to be put on the tree, then will be judged to see who has the best!”

“This is not gonna go well…” You said, trying your best to cover the shaky smile on your face. This is the best! You’ll just pick someone who won’t ask a question you don’t mind answering! Thank you Columbina for giving you this chance.

“You’re telling me!” Pulcinella shouted from the other room, sarcasm oozing like tar glooping down a slope.

“Count us down, count us down!” Columbina couldn’t contain her excitement, her body practically vibrating.

“Alright, alright… Ugh, I regret this… On your marks, get set, cut!”

“Seriously? ‘Cut’?” Pierro turned to you.

“What was I supposed to say!?”

The Harbingers sat at the table immediately started cutting, the sound of card shredding and small pieces emitting everywhere. Guess who’s going to have to clean that up? You thought with a frown, watching card pile up in the small crevasses in your carpet.

Looking around at the Harbinger’s cutting paper, you realise one was just sitting there watching the others work.

“Uhh, Capitano? Aren’t you going to begin?” You asked him.

“No.” His deep voice answered in return. “I am not going to join this display, no matter how entertaining it will be for you. Firstly, my fingers won’t fit in the holes of the scissors. And secondly, I have no question to ask you so entering just for victory would be pointless.”

“Brother, your fingers can’t be that big.” You deadpanned, letting your mind wander a bit too far with the thought.

He simply crossed his arms and continued to watch the others, ignoring you from then on. Oh well, he’s not interfering or arguing back like a child so you’ll let it happen. Besides, it looks like he quite likes watching so it’s the least you could do.

Pierro put an arm on your shoulder, getting your attention. You turned to make eye-contact and saw him hesitating in what to say to you.

“Do you need a defibrillator? You look like you’re having a seizure.”

“Who do you think is going to make the best star?” He said after, not registering your insult you said a few seconds prior.

“Wow. Did it really take you that long to think of what to say to me?”

“Quiet.” He warned you.

“Hmm… Who do I think is going to win?” You mumbled out loud, pretending to give it some thought. “Screw it, I’m not going to pretend. Sandrone’s going to make the best one because she does this kind of thing as a job.”

“Hah!” She guffawed after hearing your predictions, continuing her cutting with a content smile.

“Buuuut, that’s not what makes a star special. It isn’t just perfection, but passion and hope. I want to see how unique some people will make it… within reason of course.”

“I wasn’t expecting such an intelligent reply.” Pierro sweated. “Here I was, ready to scold you.”

“It’s like that’s all you can ever bloody think about when it comes to me.” You deadpanned.

“You give me no choice half of the time.” He sighed with a shaking head. “Your choices are often questionable and must be corrected. Would you rather have a physical punishment instead?”

Is this guy nuts?

“No… No, I would not.”

“That's what I thought.” He turned to look at the competition.

“Decider, help me out here.” Scaramouche clicked his fingers, beckoning you like an old woman would to her juvenile cat.

“Do I look like your pet?” You recoiled in disgust.

“I’ll let you leave the house to go to that dumb park you like if you help me right now.”

“I’m on my way!” You ran over to his side, peering down to see the mess of a star he’s created. It’s not bad at all, it’s actually your style - you like it a lot! What on earth could he need help for?

When you peered down to his design, you felt a cold unnatural hand grasp the side of your head and pull it closer to his face.

“Tell me how you like them.” He whispered. “Would you rather me add more detail or remove it? And don’t lie to me or I’ll kill you.”

“Pierro, The Balladeer is cheating! He’s bribing The Decider!” Sandrone pushed her chair back and stood up dramatically, pointing her scissors at the offender.

“Hey, no fair!” Childe whined. “If he gets to bribe them, let me bribe them too!”

“If anyone is to bribe the Decider, it should be me. I am the richest man in Teyvat after all.” Pantalone shrugged whilst lazily cutting.

“Correction: Ningguang is the richest in terms of all. You only count as the richest when it comes to being a man.” You pointed out. “And besides, I would never take your dirty money.”

Piero coughed loudly to quieten everyone down, all in the room turning to him like a deer in headlights. He waited until everyone stopped complaining and then spoke.

“Do continue with your cutting, you have less than a minute left.” He gestured to the timer. “And no bribery. The first to test my patience and even attempt to do so will be put under experimentation during the rest of our stay here and our return.”

“Oh, by all means, bribe away!” Dottore laughed at the Harbinger’s around him, silently cutting.

Huh? Less than a minute left? But when you last looked at the time they had at least 8 minutes left. You checked the timer once more, and found fat greasy fingerprints on buttons that weren’t there prior. You turned to the old man with an incredulous face, mouth wide open. He caught your staring, and put a finger on his lips with a small almost unnoticeable smile.

Pierro, you cheeky bastard. I love you for this.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

The stars were laid out on the dining table, each Harbinger stood behind their own creations. Sadly but also un-sadly, some Harbingers were too slow and couldn’t finish their star in time. By some, you mean Pantalone and surprisingly Sandrone.

“I’m not going to hear the end of this.” Sandrone had her face buried in her hands, looking at her creation with malice. “In defence, I value time to craft perfection. Announcing a set time dampens my methods and results in mechanics such as this one. Ugh, what a waste!” She threw the craft off of the table, the star unravelling itself immediately.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Of course.” You sarcastically waved at her embarrassment. “And you, Pantalone? What’s your excuse?”

“The scissors you gave me were tampered with! I call for–”

“So I’m the problem? Okay, whatever…”

You walked down the table, looking at each star neutrally then nodding and moving onto the next. Now, you’re not an expert, but did they really think you wouldn’t notice? They all look the exact same! They all look like copied versions of Scaramouche’s design! When watching him try to bribe you, they must have thought you liked his design the best and copied him to have a fair chance. Well, they’re wrong! You’re just going to pick the person who will give you the least trouble when answering their question, jokes on them!

…That was your original plan. After looking at all the stars, you felt a new motivation when noticing one person didn’t copy and stuck to their own principles. Also they may or may not be the only person to not take this seriously and you want to mess with the others a little bit. Pierro will agree with you, he’s the type to disregard any copycats so he won’t have trouble with your choice at all.

“Okay, I’ve decided on my winner.” You announced, stepping back to view the expectant Harbingers.

“Arlecchino, you win.”

“WHAT!?”

“But why?” She asked, not looking surprised or pleased. “I could care less about an answer to a question, nor do I care about winning this childish competition.”

“That’s actually why I picked you. And because your star is an original design - sorry Scara, but uhh, you might have won if the others didn’t copy.”

“Of course.” He grumbled, glaring at the Harbingers staring at him. “One day, I’m going to murder all of you fools and sell your parts to people far worse than Dottore! I’ll get back at all of you for ruining my chances!”

“Anyway,” You tuned his violent voice out. “Yeah, you’re the winner. Pierro, what do you think?”

“...I agree.” He said in a quieter tone. “Now, I will be returning to my office to continue what’s left of my work… and review what The Rooster has already completed.”

As he was walking away, you turned back to notice the majority of Harbingers had walked away to go back to what they were doing prior, bored after realising they wouldn't be able to profit with staying around for longer.

“Do I get to ask my question now?” Arlecchino tapped her elbow impatiently with folded arms.

“So you do want the reward?”

“Despite it not being my intention when joining, I would indeed like something that was promised. Whether it be an accident or a purposeful decision.”

“Okay, fine. Ask away then.” You shrugged.

“As you must already be aware, the majority of my Children from the Hearth hail from Fontaine, the nation of justice. I won’t lie to you, I’m beginning to grow increasingly concerned with the prophecy where–”

“--where the whole nation will be flooded and all the people will be killed except the archon? Yeah, I know of it. Your point?” You finished her explanation, already having an idea of where the conversation was heading.

“Then you will understand I care deeply about the future of my children. Tell me, will I succeed in convincing the Tsaritsa to visit Fontaine to retrieve the Gnosis in place of Rosalyne?”

“Of course you’d use the question to ask about your ‘precious children’.” Scaramouche mocked. “Just how idiotic can you be?? This is your chance to ask about the future!”

You gave a harsh glare with icy eyes in his direction before sighing, a smile on your face. “Yeah.”

“Hm? You have to give a higher detailed response to that.”

“You go to Fontaine, Childe coincidentally also there for his own personal motivations which may or may not be important. The whole time you’re there, you’re investigating Furina and the prophecy. Long story short, that I WILL NOT be elaborating, the prophecy is sorted and the people are saved. This includes the children in the House of the Hearth.” You explained, pleased with the question she asked you and your own personal answer. Wow, you can even impress yourself sometimes!

“Excellent.” She sighed in relief, her face unchanging. “Thank you. But I do have to ask, is the Hydro Archon really working to prevent the flood?”

“That’s two questions. But fine,” You shrugged. “You can trust her. Everything is proceeding to the plan, although interrogation and suspicion do indeed accelerate it to completion.” You thought out loud, noticing her questioning gaze and smiling deeper.

“That’s enough serious stuff. When are we going to discuss presents? Now that the tree is up we need to put the presents under it!” 

“Uh… We’re flat-out poor. We can’t afford presents.” Childe shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to accept my love as a present instead!”

“Ew, what are you, five? Wait… Don’t come over here! Not after saying something like that!” You panicked, watching him run over to you at full speed and choosing to run away.

“Scaramouche you know how you said you’d take me to the park? I’m cashing in that favour right now!”

[curseofhecate]

MERRY CHRISTMAS, PLEASE DON'T CALL |LN4

an: This is obviously based on merry Christmas, palase don't call by the bleachers, which I have on repeat ever since it came out. Ik this is a bit depressing, but in a suckered for angst so you can't blame me. This is from the readers point for view.

w.c.: 1.3k

December 25th, Christmas.

Outside, the snow was falling softly, the glow of the streetlights casting a yellow glow over it. Her apartment was cold and dark and awfully quiet. Up until a few hours ago, the living room, the very room she was sitting in now, had been so warm, so full of life. 

This year it had been her turn to host the annual family Christmas gathering.The chaos of it had done a good job keeping her distracted. But her family had left hours ago. Normally, said gathering would drag on well into the evening, but this year her parents had left earlier, having flown over to London on Christmas Eve and with the excuse of needing to catch up with jet lag, while her sister and husband had left as soon as Nicole, her niece had started getting sleepy. 

That left her alone, in a messy apartment that suddenly seemed too warm, too bright, suffocating. It took another hour or so to clean up everything. And when everything was back to normal, she sat down on her couch in the living room, watching the snow fall outside with the lights off except for the lights on the christmas tree.

It is weird how fast time moves.

This time last year they were on their way back to his apartment from his parents house. He had taken her to meet this family, insisting that they would love her when she was nervously telling him they might think its too soon on the car ride there. And he was right. His family ended up loving her.

This time last year they were driving home, and when they’d get there, they would change into more comfortable clothes, her in hoodie that belonged to him which had a big 4 printed on the back which made Lando go crazy, and they'd settle down on the couch, covered in blankets and holding a steaming mug of hot chocolate each, while christmas movies played on the tv.

Two years ago today, she hadn’t even known he existed. Well, technically she did, since he was a famous formula 1 driver and all of that, but she’d never met him and she didn’t really care to do so. Two years ago right now, she would have been getting ready for that party her friends insisted she went to. 

That’s where she met him. A Christmas party, hosted by a friend of a friend. She wasn’t big on parties, she never had been. Normally she would sit back, maybe have a drink or two but never more and wait for the time to pass until it was acceptable to leave or until one of her friends decided to ditch. 

Lando was there with a girl, one he had been hooking up with at that fraction in time. And even though it wasn’t serious enough to turn into a relationship, they were friends above all and his plans had been cancelled last minute so he had decided to tag along. 

Now, Lando wasn’t really a loner, quite the contrary actually but he liked to befriend the people who were a bit more closed off. Besides, he had had a lot of practice getting to know his new teammate for next year and so, as soon as he was left alone, he walked up to the first person he judged as socially awkward. That was her.

And the rest was history. 

Two years later, whatever had started that night in December in a quiet corner of a party that neither of them should have really been there in the first place was long gone. Dead and buried under the pain that came with the conclusion that they couldn’t possibly work.

That’s the price that comes with being an F1 driver. And as much as they both would like to think that their relationship was full of happiness and love, the bad moments were nearly as much as the good ones. With him constantly gone and away for races and her too focused on her degree to be with him even when he wasn’t at the other side of the world made up for sure distraction. 

But maybe it was because he wasn’t ready for a relationship and the commitment that came with him or maybe it was because she was new at this and didn’t know how to let him know how she really felt. But most probably it was the fact that they couldn’t communicate their feelings with each other, mainly because they weren’t used to having to do so.

Whatever it was, the outcome was the same. Her sitting alone in a quiet apartment while he was away on a winter vacation, a ski trip somewhere in the french alps with a lot of his friends that had grown to be her friends too while they were still dating. 

She sighed, turning off her phone, not bearing to look at another of their friends' instagram story in which he was featured in. Lately she’d catch herself wondering how it would have been if they were still together. If they had fought for what they had instead of giving up once it all got too much.

She shouldn’t but on the nights she missed him a lot, she goes back and rereads their messages from when they were still dating. Sometimes she typed out paragraphs, asking him to talk or admitting that she never lost feelings and that she wants to try again, but she never sends them, because what would that do either way. 

They weren’t good for each other. They both knew that. He was struggling with his own problems and he couldn’t find a way to let her in, really let her in. And then it was the distance too. He wasn’t present enough, and even though that wasn’t his choice, it worked against them. They weren’t what the other needed, at least not at that moment in time.

Besides, he had moved on. It hadn’t even been a full month after their breakup before he was seen out with a well known model. And even though she knew better than to believe whatever the gossip pages claimed, the idea of him moving on so quickly still hurt.

Her phone dinged with a notification. She immediately reached for it, momentarily hoping that maybe he had reached out, but frowning as soon as she saw it was just a text from one of her friends who were spending the holidays away from London. 

For some reason a part of her wished that he would send her a message, saying merry christmas, maybe even asking her how’d she been. She knew it was wrong, and that it would only reopen old wounds but she couldn’t help but want a sign that he still thought about her from time to time, that he hadn’t forgotten him completely and that he still cared.

But even if he called, she didn’t know if she would be able to answer. He had put her through so much, not that he intended to, but it only proved that they weren’t right for each other.

It had been a hard decision to end things with lando. Because she loved him, she really did and she knew that he did too. But they weren’t what the other needed. In another timeline, under other circumstances they would have been perfect.

The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to cry. She shook her head, getting up and making herself a cup of chamomile tea, before settling back down on the couch, this time wrapped in a blanket, and turned on the tv ad pressing play on Love Actually, laughing a bit as she thought about lando had called it a dumb movie when she forced him to watch it with her around this time last year.

 Eventually, she fell asleep right there on the couch, empty tea mug on the coffee table and with the movie playing in the background. She could almost feel the ghost of his arms around her, rubbing her back and murmuring sweet nothings into her ear as she fell asleep.

And just as the ending credits started to roll on the tv, her phone screen lit up with a notification of an unread message.

[kayla-and-the-moon]

baby, it's cold outside-! ᥫ᭡.

❄️plot: it's christmas eve and peter just really wants you stay, is that a crime?

❄️pairing: gn! reader x tasm!peter parker <3

❄️tw! : nothing just peter being a sweetpea/ best bf ever / darling dork. (dunno if minimal smooching counts as a tw-)

"god it's storming out there."

in your defense when you'd walked over here, the snow had been light, but now it seemed like the entirety of the world behind the window was a turbulent flurry of white. you'd come here to drop off some Christmas cookies your mom had baked, the problem was what was supposed to be a quick visit had turned into a couple hours.

of course you had one person to blame for that.

peter was practically engulfing you, his arms winding around your midriff and his face burying in your shoulder. you can feel the bastard's evil little grin against your sweater before he gives a hum of faux innocence.

"geez, that's really unfortunate", he tuts, his chin propping up to look at your unimpressed roll of the eyes in the window reflection, "I guess that means you'll have to stay huh?"

"pete, my dad would murder you."

"i think he'd murder me if I let you go out in this weather. so eitherway it's a death-death outcome, sweetheart."

it's honestly unfair how the nerd could turn you to all disarmed and smiley with a simple, dopey wisecrack of his. you have to stifle a snort of laughter before you turn to him with a brow raise. peter isn't deterred, but maybe even more motivated, and only just continues to look at you like you hung the moon itself.

"what? i'm just looking out for my girlfriend" he shrugs, but the stupid grin on his face belies those innocuous brown eyes of his.

you're almost persuaded to stay, but there's that niggling pinch of responsibility at the back of your mind, and you're once again looking outside as if your stared hard enough the sky would clear. no such luck, god, you wished the universe loved you enough to put its snowy tantrum on pause.

"it's not that bad, and my mom might get worried," you try reasoning, already picturing your mother's hysteria wondering if the multiple thugs lurking in new york's alleyways had taken you prisoner ,"really I should go-"

"you'll get pneumonia," he simply states with a pointed quirk of his brows, "plus we can always call."

"you know as well as I do that the cell service is unequivocally wrecked right now."

"then we'll call in the morning, your mom probably knows you're here," he counters, his fingertips drawing a path over your arms, "plus, I think she's caught on you're Spiderman's personal favorite civilian"

this brings a chuckle to slip from you, shaking your head at him.

"you're very pushy, peter parker" you roll your eyes, your arms crossing stubbornly over your chest.

peter can see right behind your facade though, and in all truth, he's feeling giddy as ever. he thinks he's the luckiest guy on earth when you grace him with that sweet smile rivaling sunshine.

"i'd just like to call it opportunistic," peter beams, the satisfaction evident in the glimmers of golden lamplight in his gaze.

"c'mon baby, don't make me beg here" he implores. lord, it should be forbidden for peter parker to call you that, since you have very little faith that your knees wouldn't buckle right that moment.

his hands find the curve of your waist and before you can even whisper the hint of another weak protest, he's dragged you to his bed, letting you fall on his chest with an unceremonious thump. you can't really bring yourself to tell him off, because peter has a way of making you all soft, and sticky with lovesickness. instead you just lean in to press a kiss of cinnamon sugar to his lips, and it's your turn to grin as he chases you after you pull away slightly.

your fingers toy with strands of his mousey brown hair at his nape as you give a theatrically defeated sigh, "okay fine, if you insist."

it's then you wish you could steal peter's camera just to capture the glow in his eyes, at your words, because truly you wanted to save that view forever. his palms rest on the apples of your cheeks, as he gives a low breathy laugh, his nose bumping to yours.

"that took a lot of convincing."

a/n: so this may be kinda rushed, so mind the quality, BUT i miss my tasm ! peter parker ,and i rlly rlly wanted to put out a christmas eve fic, and miss idina menzel and michael buble started this war (frank sinatra too, so blame them). eitherway, hope you liked this tiny lil fic, happy holidays ❄️🎅💕 !!

[ram-bles]

Happy Holidays!

With love,

The Tulpar crew.

#: gender neutral reader. romantic. pre-crash. fluff. kisses.

The holidays were near. The main area had garlands made of green plastic and tinsels sparsely hung around, a small water-activated paper Christmas tree growing in the middle of the dining table, and a bright red Christmas hat on Polle's ear. It wasn't much, but at least festive enough to feel some semblance of home. Though, one day, an additional piece of decor had been added by the entrance of the lounge.

[ Anya ]

You two were on break, folding and snipping away. The medical bay was filled with both your chattering, accompanied by gasps, giggling, and more as you both gossiped about stuff back on Earth— occasionally, some rumors about your co-workers too. Before you know it, you two were unfurling the last pieces of paper snowflakes.

"You think this is enough?"

"Yeah!"

With exchanged grins, both of you gathered the newly made decor and made your short trip towards the lounge, continuing the chat from beforehand. When the door slides open, you were both silenced by Daisuke pointing above your heads. In sync, you and Anya's eyes trailed from the intern, to the Captain beside him that gave you both a wave, then to the mistletoe, then to each other with a matching tint of red on both your cheeks.

Anya's hand covered her mouth with the tips of her fingers, and yours held your own cheek. It was silent for a quick moment which scared the other two, but you both started a giggling fit.

"You don't hafta do it if you don't want to!"

"Nono, it's okay. I promise. C'mere." Anya reassures you immediately.

You lean in and so does she, planting a kiss on both sides of your cheek and then a peck on the lip.

[ Curly ]

After convincing your Captain, he agrees to discreetly make a cake for a small holiday dinner. With a not-so discreet 'Yes!' from you, he chuckles and shakes his head. Whatever makes you happy.

But that means you have to help, which isn't much of a problem to you anyways. It's just shoving packets into a machine that automatically makes it, so it's not that big of a chore. Or maybe he just needed an excuse to spend time doing something together with you.

"Alright, doll. Let's go make your cake."

Beaming, you followed just beside him. He finds it endearing how quickly it is to please you.

The door opens and something taps his forehead, making him stop, and you as well, following his gaze.

"Cheeky." He exhales from his nose as he smiles. "You put this here?"

"No, but are you giving me a kiss?"

He looks around, body leaning back to check at the hallway again before he returns to you. His fingers gently held your chin, tilting your head up and closing in. Curly presses his lips against yours, once, twice, and a last one for good measure. The man couldn't wipe the grin off of his face afterwards even if he tried to.

[ Daisuke ]

GRUMBLE.

From where you were comfortably resting and spectating his gameplay, his stomach roars at you, the sound twice as loud with your ear pressed against it.

"Wanna eat?" Your hair scrunches at your temple as you faced him.

"Mm. Almost done." The sounds of hard plastic tapping grew louder and faster as he speedran through the level. A soft mechanical tune plays as he finishes it and he throws his tiny console to the side of his pillow. Grunting, he sits up as your head rolls onto his lap. Daisuke scoops his hand behind your head to help you sit up as well, both of you stretching and leaving the bed. It was the end of the day after all, you both couldn't help but be lazy with how tiring the shift was today.

Upon successful collection and opening of canned foods, you sat on the counter to watch your partner in crime punch some numbers into the machine that popped out sweetener packets. It's impressive to you, managing to convince the captain for some of it so he could find out what the code was and memorize it.

"Got it!" He raises the two pink packets with a grin and tilting his head towards the door. "Let's go?"

With a nod, you hop off the surface and made your way back to your shared sleeping quarters when you noticed an object at the top of your peripheral. You stop on your tracks, nudging his side and nodded your head since your hands were full, gesturing at the mistletoe and pointing with your mouth.

"Pucker up, babe." He grins, energy suddenly coming back to him.

"You can just kiss me whenever you wanted to. You didn't have to sneak that in."

"Didn't put it up there, chief."

"Then who?"

With a shrug, he winks at you. "Dunno. Beats me!"

[ Jimmy ]

His mood was sour the whole day and he always beats around the bush when you try to ask about it. So, you resort to the other option-- giving him space. Oh, but that only made his mood worse. He's thinking you were ignoring him now.

It's been frustrating, you didn't know what to do about it either, so you decided to ask Curly for some advice. But that still makes everything worse! Jimmy saw you talking to Curly too and it made him even more irrationally upset, somehow resorting to a conclusion that now you don't want him, so you're going for Curly.

Jimmy then devised a plan. Making sure to chat with you and Curly in order to keep you both by the dining table, long enough so that the other three would head back to their designated quarters and unfortunately for him, he needed to be a chatterbox like you guys.

But hey, it worked, right?

That's when he suddenly had to excuse himself and asked you for some help. Agreeing, you both went on your way to exit the lounge when his arms hook around your waist, planting a kiss on your lips and you let out a surprised noise. Jimmy made sure Curly was looking too.

"Jimmy, not here!"

"Hey, I'm just following tradition." He points up at the mistletoe above your head with a smug grin.

[ Swansea ]

Another sigh escapes your lips and you hear Swansea put down a screwdriver.

"Alright, what's botherin' ya this time?"

You shift from Swansea's chair, twirling it slightly as you readjust your position so that you could rest your head on your palm. "Don't you miss celebrating the holidays?"

He seems unamused but you notice his demeanor change ever so slightly. With a huff he responds. "You get used to it up here." He takes another tool and continued tinkering.

Swansea could see you deflate from his peripheral vision. There was a moment of silence when he spoke up, not looking away from his work. "There's a box beside the birthday shit. If you could fix it before I finish here then I'll help you put it up. Deal?"

Beaming, you hopped out of the chair, rushed over to him and gave him a peck on the cheek before heading out.

"Thanks, Swans."

Fortunately for you, it wasn't a hard fix anyways. One of the wires connected to the battery holder was snapped off and all it needed was a little soldering.

Safe to say you did finish before him.

Excitedly, you helped him clean up and you both headed for the lounge. This was nice, you'd proudly say it if you had to and Swansea felt the same albeit never admitting it. Idly chatting about stuff back home as you hung up the lights. Swansea seemed to be having fun talking about his kids as well, going on about their holiday shenanigans whenever he got the luxury to come back home during these seasons. Surprisingly, the lights were long enough to decorate the wall behind Polle, even blending nicely into the garlands.

"Let's call everyone to eat now?"

"Alright."

You were walking towards the door when you notice it, grabbing Swansea's wrist as he turns back. Before he scolds you, you point up at the mistletoe above the both of you.

"I'm too old for this shit."

"C'mon, Swans! Just this once, please!"

You hear another defeated sigh from him when he suddenly holds you and dips you as you kissed. When you both finish, he raises your hands, twirling you and landing another kiss onto your knuckles that got you speechless.

"Hah. Still got it."

[cassiebones]

Prompt from @imyouraziraphale

Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!!

"We need a Christmas tree."

"We have a Christmas tree, Nicholas," Agatha said, pointing to the corner of the room where their tree sat.

"Mama, that is a drawing. It's not even in color!"

"It was good enough last year," Agatha huffed, crossing her arms. Her son gave her a look that may as well have been her own reflection and she groaned.

"We need a real tree," Nicky insisted. "Like the one in the mall!"

"That one is way too big for our tiny house, baby," Agatha sighed.

"Okay, but at least one that isn't made of paper," he rebutted, pointing at Agatha's sad little drawing taped to the wall.

"You do know where paper comes from, don't you?" Agatha asked.

"Mama."

"Okay, fine," Agatha huffed. "We'll go to the tree farm in Eastview tomorrow, okay? Jeez."

"Thanks!" He pressed a kiss to his mother's cheek and all but skipped out of the room. Agatha bit back the smile until he was out of view, shaking her head in adoration.

Vidal's Trees was somehow still open on Christmas Eve, but the pickings were slim for trees by this point. Nicky held tightly to Agatha's hand as he dragged her around the lot, examining tree's with a severe gaze, circling them, sniffing them, feeling their branches. Agatha watched him, half-amused, as she wrapped her arms around herself, shivering in the New Jersey December chill. The sun was already going down and the temperature was dropping with it.

"Coffee?" Agatha turned to find a woman standing next to her, offering a steaming paper cup, a wry smile on her face. Agatha felt her cheeks warm at the other woman's presence. She was gorgeous, with medium-length, raven-black hair in a braid, wisps of hair coming out. She had several piercings in both ears and a stud on the right side of her nose. She wore a denim jacket with fur lining and a crocheted scarf sticking out with the lesbian pride flag colors (jackpot! a dumb voice in Agatha's mind supplied), and her dark jeans were tight and tucked into a pair of thick leather boots.

"It's free," the woman said when Agatha just stared at the offered cup. "Complimentary for customers. We also have hot chocolate." She nodded at Nicky, who was still circling the tree. "In the office over yonder." She nodded to a little cabin about twenty yards away.

"Yonder?" Agatha echoed, snorting as she finally accepted the cup. "I didn't know people said that this far north."

The woman smiled and shrugged. "My grandfather used to say it all the time," she said. "It kinda just stuck with me, I guess."

"It's cute," Agatha commented, taking a sip of the coffee. She sighed as the warmth spread through her. "Oh my Goddess, this coffee is amazing. What's in it?"

"Nothing special," the woman said, blushing slightly. "It's just some blend I get from the cafe I work at part-time. I just have a way with the coffee machine, I think."

"Well, if your touch with the hot chocolate is even remotely similar, I think my son would love some, if he ever decided on a tree, anyway." She looked at Nicky, who was testing the branches again. "Is this the one?" she asked, a little impatiently.

"I don't think so..." Nicky said, sounding disappointed. "There are a couple of bare spots and a lot of the branches are snapped. I don't think it would look very good in our house."

"Well, that's what we get for coming out last-second," Agatha sighed, offering an apologetic smile to the other woman. "Sorry to have wasted your time. How much do I owe you for the coffee?"

"Nothing," the woman said. "It's complimentary, remember?"

"For customers," Agatha said. "Based on the options you have left, I don't think we're going to be customers today."

In all honesty, the tree that Nicky had been considering was the best that Agatha could see. Everything else was either taken or worse off than this one was. She was doubtful that he'd be willing to take any of them home with him.

Pity. Maybe next year.

She pulled a couple dollar bills from her pocket and offered them to the raven-haired beauty, but the other woman refused to take them.

"Actually," she said, "I do have one more tree that you might want to see. Follow me."

She started walking away and Nicky immediately darted after her.

"Nicholas!" Agatha groaned, hastening to follow him without falling on her ass in the snow. She caught up to them closer to the cabin, following the two of them around the back of it.

Oh, great, a voice inside her head said, she's probably a murderer about to kill us in her shed. Well, I lived a good life, I guess.

"Here we are," the woman said, stopping just behind her cabin. There stood about four trees, in varying sizes, all in near-perfect condition. Seriously, if you looked up "Christmas tree" in the encyclopedia, there would be a picture of any one of these trees.

They were still rooted, too.

"They're perfect!" Nicky practically squealed, bouncing on his feet. "Can I pick any one of them?" he asked the woman, looking at her with his big brown eyes.

"It's up to your...mother?" She looked at Agatha. "I don't want to assume."

"Your assumption would be correct," Agatha said. "I am his mother."

"I'm sure your husband would approve of this one," the woman said.

Agatha wrinkled her nose, shaking her head. Nicky let out a laugh.

"Mama doesn't like boys!" he snickered. "And she's not married."

Her son, A+ wingman.

"Oh," the woman said, smiling at Agatha. "That's...interesting."

"Is it?" Agatha asked, her eyes flickering down to the scarf around the other woman's neck. She lifted her eyebrows pointedly. "Agatha, by the way." She offered her hand.

The other woman shook it with a toothy grin. She had the tiniest, most adorable gap in her front teeth. "Rio Vidal," she said.

"Of Vidal's Trees?" She let out a dramatic gasp. "I had no idea that I was in the presence of a local celebrity."

"Ha!" Rio said, shaking her head. "Hardly. My parents own this place. They're just down in San Juan for the winter, visiting family and whatnot. I've been tasked with wrapping business up for the season before I go join them in a couple weeks."

Agatha furrowed her brow. "You're alone for Christmas?" she asked, frowning. "That...sucks."

"Bad word!" Nicky exclaimed. "You owe me a dollar."

"You owe me your existence," Agatha huffed in return. He rolled his eyes. She smirked at him then turned back to Rio.

"It's fine," she said. "Christmas was never a huge event, anyway. It's always just been my parents and me. Dad can't really take the cold anymore, so once the temperature starts to drop into the teens, he heads south with my mom. I'm usually there by Christmas, but this year the earliest flight I could get was after New Year's. It's fine, though. Really. We'll celebrate the holidays, then."

"But won't Santa bring you presents still?" Nicky asked, looking genuinely concerned. "Don't your mommy and daddy want to see you unwrap them tomorrow morning?"

"I told Santa Claus to bring all my presents to their house in San Juan," Rio said, crouching to his height. "So I'll open all his gifts for me, just a little bit late. It's okay, though; I can wait."

Nicky still looked unsure. Then, he turned to his mother, tugging at her hand and motioning him down as Rio straightened up. Agatha offered Rio a bashful smile as she crouched down next to her son, letting him whisper in her ear.

"Can we invite her to our house for Christmas Eve?" Nicky whispered in Agatha's ear, making a blush bloom on her face so big that it reached the tips of her ears.

"Nicky..." Agatha whispered back, shaking her head.

"Please, Mama?" he begged, giving her those big brown eyes and his little pout and Good Goddess she had pretty much taught him that, hadn't she? Damn her.

Agatha took a deep breath, nodding as she stood, ignoring the protest in her knees as she did so.

"Rio," she said, trying to keep her voice steady as the other woman's warm gaze met hers, "would you like to join us for Christmas?"

Rio's eyes widened at that. "Oh," she said, a pretty pink spreading over her cheeks. "Um, that's really nice of you to offer, but you don't have to..."

"I insist," Agatha said, feeling Nicky tugging at her hand again. "So does he." She motioned to her son, who hit Rio with that same brown puppy dog stare of his. It proved lethal: Agatha watched as Rio melted under it, offering him a soft smile.

"Okay," she said. "If you insist. I would be happy to join you for Christmas."

"And Christmas Eve, too!" Nicky said. "We're having a party!"

Rio's eyes widened at that. "You are?" she asked.

Agatha took a deep breath, squeezing her son's hand back as she nodded. "We are. A few friends for dinner," she said. "Nothing special."

"We're playing Pictionary!" Nicky said. "Auntie Jen is super competitive! And Aunt Lilia makes really good cannolis!"

"You know," Rio said, smiling down at him, "I happen to love Pictionary and cannolis, so that sounds pretty great to me." She grinned up at Agatha, who smiled back softly. "If you don't mind, of course."

"I wouldn't have let him mention it if I did," Agatha said with a chuckle. "Here, let me get your number and I'll text you my address." She opened a 'New Contact' tab in her phone and offered it to Rio, who was visibly blushing. Agatha's face matched hers and she cleared her throat as their fingers brushed in the exchange.

Nicky watched them with a grin, squeezing his mother's hand a little. When Agatha looked down at him, she found his eyes twinkling. She made a face at him and he giggled, pressing his face into her side. She let go of his phone, running her fingers through his mop of hair.

"Here," Rio said. "Um, I can't wait until the party. I'm sure I'll kick Auntie Jen's butt at Pictionary," she said, looking down at Nicky, who giggled again.

Agatha smiled at the contact name for Rio ("Tree Girl") and sent a text with her address. There was a chime from Rio's pocket and she plucked out her phone, eyebrows lifting.

"Westview," she said, letting out a low whistle. "Fancy." She smirked up at Agatha. "I'll be there. Should I, uh, bring anything? Drinks, ice, food...a tree?" She nodded toward the four trees in her side yard.

"Oh," Agatha said, her eyes widening. "Right." She considered the four trees of varying sizes. "Um, that one might be the perfect size for our apartment, don't you think, Nicky?"

Nicky considered the second-smallest of the four trees, circling it like a dog looking for the perfect angle to lift his leg. Then he nodded.

"Yeah," he said, "I think so. There are no bald spots."

"Perfect, then," Agatha said, turning back to Rio. "How much?"

"Don't worry about it," Rio said. "Consider it a gift."

"Seriously?" Nicky exclaimed, smiling wide. "Awesome!"

"No," Agatha said, looking between him and Rio. "No, we couldn't possibly - "

"Agatha," Rio said, stopping Agatha's words dead on her tongue, "you've just invited me - a stranger - to spend Christmas with you just so I, a grown woman, wouldn't be alone. It's the least I can do to repay you."

"You don't have to repay me," Agatha said. "Besides, it's Christmas; you do good deeds on Christmas, don't you?"

"Then this is my good deed," Rio said. "I got you a Christmas tree. Just say thank you and let me get my axe."

"Your...you're going to cut it down yourself?" Agatha asked, feeling her entire body go hot.

"Of course," Rio snorted. "Do you see anybody else here? How else was I going to get it out of the ground?"

"That is so cool," Nicky said, practically bouncing around in a circle.

Agatha stayed rooted to the ground - much like the four trees behind her - while Rio disappeared around the back of the house and came back seconds later wielding an axe. Her eyes were glued to the other woman as she went to work chopping down the tree, her fists clenching at her sides as many thoughts ran through her mind.

Thoughts she dared not say aloud. Thoughts that would make a stripper blush.

The tree fell to the snow with a muted thud as Rio wiped sweat from her brow, grinning when she caught Agatha still staring at her, a fervent flush on her cheeks. Agatha looked away when Rio met her eyes, clearing her throat.

Rio reached for the end of the tree, pulling it up to her shoulder and dragging it to where there were a bunch of coiled up ropes. Agatha continued to watch her as she tied the tree up, then lifted it like it was nothing, over her shoulder.

"Where's your car?" she asked, tucking some more ropes under her arm. Agatha motioned in the general direction of her car. "Lead the way," Rio said.

Agatha nodded, reaching for her son's hand and practically dragging him in the direction of their car, all while ignoring his knowing smirk as they trudged through the snow, Rio right next to them.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

nymph. [part 4] l General Marcus Acacius

Summary:  you have been with him for a long time, but he has never seen you. but everything has changed.

Warnings:  +18, smut, fluff, maybe a little bit of angst, gods and mythology are treated in a simple way

A/N: part 4. I secretly hope you'll be gentle with me. I'm very curious about what your thoughts will be after this chapter. Please remember that I'd love to hear your comments and ideas. And especially when it comes to the ending of this part… I'll leave you alone now. I send you all my love.

I hope you will be gentle with me. your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

nymph [masterlist]

"She's not from here."

Marcus raised his eyes and followed his old friend's gaze. They could see your silhouette between the trees. It was a beautiful, sunny day and you and Melitta were spending it in the garden. 

The young girl had become your companion, although Marcus had often noticed the embarrassment and delight in her eyes almost simultaneously when she looked at you.

"No, she's not," he confirmed. "But would you believe me if I told you?"

Brutus smiled, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening. "I'm old enough to believe anything." he said. "But please, Marcus. Don't tell me things you should keep to yourself. Here," he pointed to the General's broad chest. "Everything is safer here."

Brutus' gray eyes wandered back to the garden. He had known Marcus when he was a child, his father had been Brutus' friend, and after his death he had surrounded the young man with care. He had never seen a woman in his house before, and he certainly didn't know of any that Acacius would look at in such a way.

"You love her." He said.

He didn't have to ask. He was at an age where certain things were simply obvious to him. Like this.

"I do." Marcus sighed. "More than anything."

"That's good. You can't fight the whole world without someone close to you. But she's not from here. Is she free?"

Marcus's eyebrows drew together. "I didn't take her as a concubine or a slave. She's free, more than any of us."

"Her family?" he saw a shadow in Acacius's gaze. "I see. Don't explain it, Marcus. She shouldn't appear among people without a background. Let's think..."

A warm wind blew through the window, playing with the delicate curtains, carrying with it the sweet scent of flowers. Brutus took a sip of wine and cleared his throat.

"You should say that her parents died when she was still a child. It would be safest." he said, and Marcus fixed his gaze on him, listening carefully. "Later, some distant family member took care of her. It wasn't a significant family. You met and fell in love, simply. Don't mention her origins, don't pay attention to her. Some may gossip about you, but it will quickly die down."

"I'm not afraid of gossip, only of her safety." Acacius replied. "I am the General, and I'm afraid that I won't be able to ensure the safety of the one I love."

Brutus nodded his gray head in understanding. "The gods must be favorable to you if you found each other in this vast world. It's a good sign."

And he really hoped that his friend was right.

A dozen or so days at Marcus' house passed quickly. You didn't find boredom there. Melitta accompanied you every day, slowly becoming a close friend. 

Antigonus, on the other hand, strived to ensure that all your requests, or at least those that General Acacius agreed to, were fulfilled. So although he sometimes grumbled something under his breath, he let you sit for hours in a room full of maps and writings, which you looked through, and then in the evenings you asked Marcus about them.

His duties to the Emperor and Rome didn't allow him to spend as much time with you as he would have liked, but the thought that he was coming back to you was something that kept him sane. 

Never before had this house been filled with such conversations and feelings. Never before had he felt as if he was hiding the most precious treasure. You.

"If you knew the true faces of the gods, your eyes would turn white." You said one evening, turning in the sheets. The glow of the candles danced on your bare back, and your hair was in a sweet mess. "All those carvings in the temples, the paintings - poof! - nonsense. None of you have seen the true wrath of Mars or Jupiter. You have not experienced the grace of Venus."

"So what lies next to me if not a gift from Venus?" Marcus asked, leaning down and placing a kiss somewhere between your shoulder blades. "Or Mars? I thought I was the favorite of the gods?"

"Sometimes you are too sure of yourself, General." You replied sarcastically, but you sighed quietly when his hand tightened on your buttock. "The gods have their favorites, but that doesn't mean they can't get bored with them."

"I don't care." His hands grabbed your hips and quickly turned you around, your laughter filling the darkened chamber. "As long as I have you in my hands, I am not afraid of the wrath of the gods. You are my redemption."

A hand tenderly stroked his cheek, fingers slipping into the curly hair among which you could see silver threads. "Don't treat me like one of them, my beloved... I'm not worthy of this."

The brown eyes that were staring at you, however, said something else. Adoration and delight radiated from his insides.

"To me, you are above them all." he replied, spreading your thighs with his hand and placing himself between them. "I want to adore you every day. Praise the day when my eyes saw you for the first time. Fight for you, conquer for you, live for you."

"Marcus..."

His hard cock slid into you without a problem, all the way to the base. Still slippery, full of his seed. You had made love just a moment earlier, like almost every night. Almost, because you also appreciated those moments when you could just fall asleep in each other's arms, feeling the closeness of your bodies, feeling the steady beating of your hearts.

"I will adore and worship you." his voice was low, he whispered to you as if he was praying "Your body is a temple, your sweet moans are songs of praise..." you sighed feeling him move inside you, you tightened your fingers on his strong shoulders "I was a mere mortal when your grace fell upon me. You were the one who decided to stay with me, now I will give you all of myself."

Hot lips kissed your neck as Marcus thrust into you with increasing force. You already knew perfectly well his endless hunger for you, so you gave him what he needed.

Acacius was a generous lover. He gave you pleasure in every way he knew, and you fell apart in his hands, intoxicated by this feeling. 

You never thought before that bodies could fit together so well, complement each other so much and give each other small deaths, while feeling that they were more alive than ever before.

"I love you..." his hot whisper reached your ears, you wrapped your arms around his neck, slid your hands into his soft hair "More than life, more than anything I know."

He hit exactly that spot, you couldn't say a word, catching your breath. His hot, sweaty body was pressing down on you lightly, but it didn't matter. Soon the pleasure spread through your body, all your senses and heart froze. 

Marcus felt your delicate walls squeeze his cock, but he didn't stop. His prayers had to be finished. He lifted himself on his shoulders, eyes swept over your sweaty cleavage and breasts, wandering to the place where you were connected. He disappeared inside you a few more times, and then a deep moan escaped his throat as his seed spurted into you, filling you up again.

Tender hands touched his face again, pulling him into a kiss. Soft lips that he never wanted to leave, arms that were supposed to embrace him forever. The woman who was supposed to love him for eternity.

When Marcus told you that morning that you could go out with him and see Rome, your eyes widened with delight. You had been begging him to let you see the city for a long time, although you understood perfectly well why he refused to do so. Every decision had to be thought out, every move planned.

"We'll visit Brutus, it's nothing interesting." he said, but the smile didn't leave his lips when he saw the glint in your eyes.

Melitta had been trying to help you dress for several minutes, but you were so excited that you couldn't stand still.

"My lady." she sighed. "The sun will set before you cross the threshold. Please..."

"I know, I know..." you repeated once again "It's just so, so exciting."

"Rome is beautiful." Melitta draped the material over your shoulder "You'll like it. Although I prefer forests and meadows... Bathed in the morning light, with the grass still covered in dew."

You tightened your fingers lightly on her arm. "I'll take you there, I promise." you said quietly "Soon."

The door creaked and you both jumped as General Acacius appeared before you. Even though he wasn't wearing armor, he still looked dignified. He smiled at the sight of you and nodded towards Melitta.

"Is everything ready?"

"Yes, my lord." she said curtsying.

"You did well." he praised her "You look wonderful, my love. I have something for you."

He took your hand and carefully slid a gold ring with an emerald stone onto your finger. He pressed his lips to your knuckles.

"It's for your safety." He explained seeing your questioning look. "Anyone who sees this ring will know who you..."

"...belong to." You finished for him.

He kissed your hand again and covered it with his. He wanted to avoid saying those words, but at the same time he wanted them. He wanted to know that you were only his.

Your eyes darted from one face to another, from one fruit stand to the beautifully dressed people you saw leaving the building. Conversations, laughter, the sound of horses' hooves, children running around. You had never been in a place like this before.

Marcus was close to you the whole time, observing your every move and gesture, noticing every smile and delight in your eyes. For a moment he regretted that he didn't see it all the same way you did. 

Years of fighting wars, talking to politicians, worrying about the fate of the country, had made him feel tired and numb. To everything, except you.

"Thank you, beautiful lady! May the gods bless you!" a hoarse voice rang out behind him.

It was only then that he noticed that you had escaped his eyes. Something or someone caught your attention. An older man, in a tattered robe, who was sitting against the wall begging for alms. The closer to the gladiator fights, the more of them appeared in the city, of all ages, sexes, and in various states of health.

Something flashed in the man's dirty hand and Acacius realized that you had given him one of your rings. Not the one he had given you that morning, some other one. He felt a warm surge of affection for you, because he had already forgotten what or who you were before, that you thought differently than those he knew.

A strong hand gently grabbed your arm. "We should go."

You nodded and obediently followed Marcus.

"The Emperor expects your presence during the fights. You should be there." Brutus sat comfortably on a bench under a spreading tree and nodded to the young girl who handed him wine. "There will be no better opportunity for her to go there with you."

"I'm not so sure about that." Marcus replied. "The Emperor, these people..."

"You can't keep her at home forever, Marcus!" the man snorted "I know you want her safety, but someone will notice her soon. Besides, I heard that a few people would be interested in you finally getting married."

Acacius frowned and snorted at the very statement. This topic always appeared when he returned to Rome, that's why he preferred barracks and battlefields, soldiers didn't care about marital status. 

Besides, marriage for people of his position was rarely connected with deeper feelings. It was about the arrangement, about position, about wealth, about creating a strong family.

Somewhere nearby he heard a familiar quiet laugh and noticed you with Aurelia, Brutus' wife, who was showing you around their house. His friend noticed how the General's face brightened at the sight of you.

"It gives me great joy to see you like this." he said warmly "I don't know what spell this girl has cast on you, but the gods are kind to you, since they allowed your paths to cross."

"I will be grateful to them for the rest of my life." Marcus said. "I feel like I knew her before my eyes first met her."

"Is that possible?"

"I don't know... Maybe it was just a dream." He raised his glass to his lips and took a sip of sweet wine. "So be it. She will accompany me there." Brutus patted him on the shoulder happily. "You're right. There will be no better time, and I don't want to risk it."

"We will be there too. But warn her, Marcus. A viper's nest is a terrible place for beautiful creatures like her."

Acacius nodded. A strange fear filled his heart, but when he heard your footsteps, when he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder, it all flew away with the wind.

Something strange woke you up at night. For a moment you tried to understand what it was. Marcus was sleeping quietly next to you, his arm around your waist, his body as hot as the sun close to yours. 

You felt it again. The scent that woke you up, so familiar.

Sage and other herbs, burning somewhere outside the window, in a garden immersed in darkness. You quietly and carefully got out of bed and threw thin robes over your naked body. The window was open and the gentle wind must have unconsciously brought the delicate smoke into the room.

You strained your eyes to see in the darkness the person who was not only burning herbs, but also... 

Yes, you knew the words to this prayer. You had heard it several times in one of the temples, but not in the temple dedicated to Minerva. These were words addressed to Venus, and they were whispered quietly by someone you knew so well. 

A prayer filled with regret, interwoven with quiet sobbing…

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

@ashleyfilm @gothcsz @littlenicpascal @missladym1981 @axshadows @psychoenergy @sabsunflowergirl @pedrofan @heckzprince @hard-candy-writing @mynameisbaby9 @94namkooksworld @bbyanarchist @picketniffler @tranquilty @psyched2b @jeewrites @tuquoquebrute @aotfantasmagorias

[eurydicees]

oh dont apologise i loved your essay 😭 and i 100% agree with everything. Theres such a innate theme of choices and consequences in wicked the musical and its so fascinating to me how choices made by all the characters have such profound consequences at the end. And fiyero’s choices are no different in the way they alter the trajectory of multiple characters.

He is really the only one i can think of who sacrifices everything for elphaba and does it all willingly. How do you like elphaba and then dislike the one character who was ready to give up his whole life and everything that came with it for her 😭

Twitter is very binary in that regard honestly, and its such a shame that they miss out on some pretty interesting character analysis about their favourite characters bc they decide to be so rigid and weird about other characters who had an impact on their faves. Couldnt be me lol, making multiple threads about a character you hate. I also think something else is at play here but dont wanna say it publicly lol but given your other responses i think you’d probably agree.

And yes totally agree about dividing the film in two parts - i can only hope the film watchers stick around for part 2 and see fiyero’s whole arc

thanks for the ask! also i wrote another fiyero ted talk. if i were like charles dickens or whoever and i was getting paid by the word to write about fiyero, i could be so goddamn rich btw.

anyways, choices and consequences!!!!! like that's the whole thing!!!!!!! and the way our choices affect and change other people!!!! fiyero isn't an exception to any of that!!!!

you're so right that fiyero is truly the one who makes the ultimate sacrifices for elphaba. like glinda loves elphaba, she absolutely does. but she isn't able to take on the work and life that elphaba chooses in defying gravity.

when it comes to the things that are most important to her, glinda prioritizes comfort and reputation over, like, morality and principle. and the thing about glinda is that she actively makes this choice. she chooses not to go with elphaba. she wants elphaba to succeed, but she's not brave enough to join her. in order for glinda to find the bravery to take up the work elphaba starts, she has to lose everything that actually matters. and she has to be complicit in her own losing of those things.

fiyero loves elphaba to the point of sacrificing all of those things that glinda can't resist. the day with the lion cub, and elphaba's general influence on him, changes fiyero profoundly in a similar way that she affects glinda, but fiyero finds the bravery to act on all of that. the difference is that he doesn't get the choice to go with her until mid-act 2 after wonderful.

in thank goodness, there's that one exchange between fiyero and glinda where they say smth like "you just can't resist all of this" "well who could?" "you know who could, and who has." and he's talking about elphaba, he's talking about how she had all the love she ever wanted at the tip of her fingers when she met the wizard, and she chose to let it go because she saw the ugly parts of the wizard's world. and this exchange is so clearly boiling it down to "elphaba resisted the temptation of being universally/publically loved and glinda did not." which tbh is something so in character for a person who has never had that, and a person who has always had that and thus doesn't want to leave it behind.

ok i was going somewhere with this but i don't remember where. just. fiyero isn't a perfect character. and for SURE the choice to erase gelphie's romantic subtext from the book when adapting it for broadway was an act of homophobia. but if we're just looking at musical canon, fiyero is brave enough to give up everything first to save elphaba, then to go with her, and then to protect her. and so-called elphaba stans don't think that's good enough. which is CRAZY to me.

also like. he's literally not the comphet love interest. sorry you didn't mention that but i keep seeing people throw those words around and like that's not what's happening here guys. elphaba loves him. she sings a whole song about it. multiple, even.

comphet implies that she mistakenly thinks she loves him because society has molded her into believing that's how she should be (fyi if anyone's experiencing that, it's glinda but i digress). elphaba, who notably has never been able to comply to the mold society makes for women, because she's never been pretty white woman enough to be afforded a place in that society? you mean that elphaba?

guys elphaba just...loves him. that's all there is to it. she loves him when she realizes he's more than he thinks he is, more than the airs he puts off. she loves him when she feared he might have changed, she loves him when he proves he did change--for the better. she loves him when he sticks by her, when he chooses her. she loves him when he's a fucking SCARECROW. ("go ahead, touch, i don't mind" "you're still beautiful" lives in my head rent fucking free).

when she has her breakthrough "okay. fuck this world that has never been good to me, if you want me to be wicked, i'll be wicked" moment, it's because she loses fiyero. she gets betrayed by nessa, and she fails dillamond, and she loses fiyero--and it's then that she loses sight of what good she had begun fighting for. it's a love for fiyero that drives most of no good deed (broadway songs of all time btw). like sorry but you dont sing someone's name like that if you don't love them. that's just musical theatre rules. trust me i was a theatre major.

anyways. sorry for that detour. back to the point. twitter treats everything as so black and white which is crazy because this is a revisionist musical about how evil isn't black and white. like?????? whatever. imagine being so bitter about a character you dislike that you want to change fundamental pieces of your favorite character so that he isn't relevant.

look. gelphie is great doomed yuri and i support that so hard. but dont try to tell me fiyero isn't deeply important to elphaba and to understanding elphaba's character. tbh the love triangle here isn't fiyero choosing between glinda and elphaba. it's more like elphaba choosing between glinda and fiyero and what either of them represent to her (glinda and working within the system, or fiyero, and abandoning it).

and hot take maybe but like ultimately--as someone who has never been conventionally accepted, as someone who has been hunted down to be murdered, as someone who has been the victim of a smear campaign and propaganda against her character/intentions, all of which was in part driven by glinda--she was always going to choose fiyero.

i respect gelphie shippers, i do. in another world, maybe one without the wizard, they could've been so happy together. i'm with y'all. but given canon, even if all others fall, i will be the last fiyero defender standing. god i hope movie-only fans watch part 2 and at least learn to RESPECT him. at the bare minimum. please. please. please.

[marcell-arts]

Hey, little songbird

Viago de Riva & Rook, Lucanis Dellamorte/Rook | T | Fluff/Drama/Comedy

When it comes to poisons, Rook trusts no one more than Viago de Riva. Surely he can find out what's wrong with her, before its too late.

---

Or, Rook is pregnant, and Viago is the first to find out.

"Maybe we should just give up," Rook said hopelessly, about a week into their strict regime. She was sitting by the balcony, where Viago insisted she get some fresh air. It was a balmy Summer day, and the sea breeze was lovely, but she was wishing she were anywhere but here. It was getting lonely without her friends, and only an increasingly frustrating Viago for company.

"No, Rook, we are not giving up," he said flatly, not even looking up from where he was annotating her reaction to the last antidote. Thankfully, it was mild this time, but still showed little improvement to her health. "You did not kill Elven gods, vanquish the Blight and save the world, only to die to this bizarre poison." 

She sighed and rocked backwards. "It's been a week already though! How can a poison's symptoms last for this long without killing me?" 

He hummed. "Some effects can last weeks from point of contact," he replied, "Although admittedly, it is strange you are seeing no improvement at all, and no deterioration. One of these ought to have done something." He looked up. "Are you sure you don't have any more symptoms? Anything different?"

"No," she said sullenly, with the petulance of a child, "I still feel nauseous and light-headed every morning. And I still have no energy most of the day." She flung the book she had on her lap across the room. It bounced sadly on the bed.

He sighed and put down his quill. "Rook. You know I am just trying to help." 

"...I know that," she said quietly. She turned to face him fully, suddenly emotional. "Of course I know that. I trust you. I know you're doing everything you can. But I just wanted…" She exhaled in frustration. "I wanted everything to be normal again! I just wanted a break from it all. From saving the world! And now I'm stuck here, and I can't even enjoy a holiday with my friends in the sun! It's just not—" 

"Not fair," Viago finished understandingly, "I know. It's not. You deserve it more than anyone." 

To both their horror, she started crying. Fat tears filled her eyes and spilled uncontrollably down her face. She sniffled loudly and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand angrily. "Maker!" she huffed, "Why am I—I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm getting emotional." 

Viago got up to lend her his handkerchief. While he had never been good at handling women in hysterics, his ongoing relationship with Teia had made him generally more sensitive to their moods. He patted her shoulder a little awkwardly. 

"It's fine," he said quietly, "I know. It's a frustrating situation." But the miserable sight of her had something stirred uncomfortable in his gut.

It wasn't surprising she was frustrated—but it was surprising that she showed it, he thought. Even as a child, she had been good at putting up a positive front. Of course, she trusted him enough to not hide her emotions, but she never liked to worry him if she could help it. To not be able to handle her feelings now… was this also a symptom?

He racked his brain to think of a poison that could cause increased emotional outbursts. It was a bizarre side-effect, but not out of the realm of possibility. Though what would the poisoner be trying to attempt with this? Unless… was it not poison at all?

He glanced at her, blowing her nose loudly into silk he would probably never touch again. If it wasn't poison, then perhaps this was an ailment of some kind. A sickness of the mind? Or a disease of the body? A condition that caused nausea, dizziness, lethargy, and proneness to emotional—

His face went white. His fingers on her shoulder tightened uncontrollably. 

"Ow! Viago, what are you doing?" she winced, shaking herself from his grip. She looked up to see his head bowed, and a fine sheen of sweat on his neck. "...Viago? Are you alright?" 

He wasn't sure what he was going to say. 

"Viago?" There was concern in her voice. 

Viago shakily moved to sit on the armchair opposite her. His hair had fallen forward, shielding his eyes.

"Viago, you're scaring me. What is it?" she whispered. "Am I… dying?" 

"Rook…" his voice was unnervingly calm, but the wild eyes that met hers were not. Piercing blue and wide with fear. "Are you… could you possibly be…" He wet his lips nervously. "...Are you with child?" 

Read the rest on ao3

[pwhl-mybeloved]

Hello. I'm a hockey fan and also an woman (probably). I love talking about hockey with other hockey people. Specifically, I like talking about the play on the ice and the way particular players and teams go about the business of doing the hockey. However, I've only just recently gotten into women's hockey (thanks YTG) and I don't know enough about the players and the teams to actually talk about the PWHL like that and I want to know.

I know that Kendall Coyne is fast, I know that Kristin O'Neill is a tenacious forechecker, I know that Aerin Frankel is Jusse Saros but...more, and I know that Marie-Philip Poulin is clutch. Beyond that, I don't know anything and I would like to know things.

Can you help me out? What kinds of things should I look for when next I watch a PWHL game? What kind of styles do each of the teams play? How is MPP so clutch when half the time it looks like she skates by falling over?

thanks for this question I’m gonna tag @strawberryblondebutch because my answer is going to be a bit lacking I fear

I spend the hockey games screaming and gasping and pointing at my faves, but I don’t often pay particular attention to the style of play for each player, which is what I think you’re asking about here. I also spend a lot of time watching the goalies over the skaters. Or I just watch the puck because that’s where the action is.

One thing I do like to watch is the special teams, during power plays and penalty kills, watching them set up the diamond in the offensive zone during a pp is sooooo satisfying 👌🏻

MPP is a mystery to me tbh. She has these moments of pure brilliance, and other times she’s kinda all over the place.

Some of my thoughts about players:

Emma Maltais is a ‘shit disturber’ she likes to get in the way & instigates ice crimes

Ann Renee Desbiens likes to go on Adventures more than most goalies, she’s always up to something

Sarah Nurse is great on the breakaway, I’ve loved seeing her succeed in that recently

To my followers, please add your commentary!

PS: so glad you’re here & enjoying the pwhl!!!

[nonexistence1199]

Bungou Stray Dogs headcanons!

Author's note: Late christmas gift for y'all;) My apology for making you wait, my family visited me last night sooooo... yeah, that's it...

Hope you enjoy!

Characters: Dazai, Fyodor, Chuuya, Ranpo, Poe

Dazai Osamu

The most chaotic (also the sweetest) holiday you've ever get, that's for sure

This bastard will make you join the ADA's Christmas party, but if you're not comfortable, then he'll just sneak out with you to go to whatever place you want

Confessing his feelings under the christmas tree, awwww <3

Have a feeling that he won't invite anyone to commit double suicide with him in this day

"Better not let God get angry with me. It would be a shame if He didn't let me die later just because of some bad Christmas prank, don't you agree Belladonna?"

Cuddles cuddles cuddles🥰

Go annoy Chuuya in front of you

"You see? He'll need to improve his height and his awful taste in fashion if he wants to go on a date with someone as gorgeous as yo-"

"SHUT UP MACKEREL!!"

You would likely receive something like a hand-written poem along with a little gift depends on your hobbies

"Ermmmm..... I-I hope you like it, Belladonna.."

"Mhm, of course, love"

Chill guy on the outside, fluster as hell on the inside

He'll stick around you until the next morning (obviously, because he's Dazai)

Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Okay so let's pretend that he had a lover....

Go to church with your hand in his

Rarely show his emotions, but who cares?

The type of person to internally scream when he caught a glimpse of your smile

"God she's such a fragile little thing... makes me want to keep her innocence all to myself"

Prays to God that you'll stay with him whatever it takes

Listening to Tchaikovsky at home (I love Tchaikovky's music sm😇)

He'll make sure to kick Nikolai out of his way, just to have more private time with you

You guys would play a duet with each other, in the candle-lit living room (in case you know how to play piano or whatever instruments that get along with cello)

Easily figure out what you like and gifted it to you (he's too smart to miss out your sparkling eyes when you see something you love lol)

Maybe he'll even skip work to spend time with you

"Is it okay, Fedya...?"

"Don't worry, мой дорогой. There is no harm in getting off from work for a while to give you the attention you deserves, don't you think?"

Nakahara Chuuya

Top quality five-star restaurant, not too crowded but not too secluded

Your role in this expensive date? Point out whatever you want, and you'll have it in a second.

Bonus point if his darling is also alcoholic (But he won't let you drink too much. He wouldn't want you damaging your own health, afterall)

"Your total payment was 12,365.04000 yen, sir."

"What? That's not enough. Anything else you wanna buy, darling?"

Hold the door open for you, carry all your shopping bags, wrapping his arm around your waist and held you close because he's such a gentleman oh my god🤭🤭

Turn his cautious mode on when he see a certain bandaged brunette

"Stay away from me and my precious darling, or else I'll explode your damn apartment"

Kick Dazai's ass if he dares to approach you

"Are you fine, darling? Did he do anything to you? Tell me, and I'll kill him right away-"

"No, don't worry Chuu, he didn't do anything"

For a quick sum up: A fancy date with Mr. Fancy hat

Edgar Allan Poe

Travelling in his special novel for Christmas? He would have prepared it for a long time now. Afterall, he's literally simping his lover

Celebrate Christmas in his home, cuddles and he'll whisper all the lovely words in your ear

"I love you, love"

"Aww, me too"

"Will you stay with me? For the rest of my life?"

"I will"

Nothing is better than his flustered face after hearing your response<33

I have a feeling that he would give you some kind of handmade gifts (of course, he do it himself)

He would prefer staying at home with you, but if you want, he'd gladly take you to the place to want to go

Dancing in the living room

Super clingy guy who would cling to you (may even get jelous when Karl stays in your lap for too long...)

Edogawa Ranpo

Prepare to see your wallet getting lighter and lighter in Christmas day...

Drag you to his favorite candy shop (don't worry, you may get bankrupt the next day)

"Only one more candy bag, pretty pleaseeeeeeeee?"

"Pfft, no"

Eating snacks while while watching some movies with you

Childlike behaviors

He would even share his snacks with you... suprise😉?

Shamelessly cling onto you and would whine like a child if you leave him for a second

"Am I your human pillow or what?"

"Yes you are, dummy"

[violetmuses]

Roman Reigns + Female Reader 🖤

Fandom: WWE

Character: Roman Reigns

@episodes-ff @expert-texpert @persethegawd @adriennegabriella @fearlesschimera @secretlifeoofmarpessa @mytribalnightmare @adoresmiles @blackgurlnhermoods @babybratzmaraj 🏷

=====

2021

Out of nowhere, unexpected rumors had spread all over the place that you've broken up with Roman Reigns and quietly found someone else.

Despite outlets pushing questions, you just kept working regardless, still laughing with your “brothers” Jimmy and Jey Uso nowadays.

“Hey!” Jimmy and Jey offered their special greeting when you entered behind the scenes.

“Goofball!” You laughed about nicknames before sitting. Cameras rolled for the segment. “Planning to see me again?”

“Only if you're cooking. I'm not staying around hotel meals.” Jey topped vibrant sunglasses.

“Both of you still have my number. Remember that.” Your kind grin brightened as always.

“All right…we'll be there...” Gentle crosstalk mumbled when Jimmy and Jey nodded, definitely planning to visit.

Yet, joyful energy dimmed once another person crossed this space.

Roman arrived.

Not yet fighting in the ring, this bun topped dark hair.

One beard smoothed his chin while brown eyes kept scoping every single corner. This black wardrobe had clothed his muscular physique.

“Got quiet. What's up?” Roman offered his Southern accent and pocketed both hands, curious.

“Nothing’s going on.” Jimmy shrugged first. Even Jey didn't know what to think.

Taking out your cell phone, you scrolled next to Jimmy like nothing happened and ignored Reigns.

As this segment played out, thousands of people almost gasped beyond the venue walls for you.

In truth, you started texting badass wrestler Naomi, Jimmy's wife and your best friend.

You: Red Alert! 🚨

Naomi: No! I can't leave hair and makeup right now. What happened?! 💚👀

You: Roman's here! 😳

Naomi: Don't panic. Just talk to each other. Love you! 🫂🫶🏾 💚

You: I'll try. Love you too. 🥺

Putting away the device, your eyes watched as Jimmy and Jey bid farewell to exit, sharing their embrace before leaving Roman with you.

________

Following one commercial break, silent air thickened when your segment returned to the locker room.

Roman welcomed this moment and both of you stood completely aware.

“What's wrong? Talk to me.” His strong yet easing voice would calm your dreams until now.

Even when this man joined the comfortable sofa, you know better. His brown eyes still watched your every move.

“It's important.” You just can't hide the truth anymore.

“Go ahead.” Roman didn't even smile and absolutely noticed the grieving sight of your presence.

“I don't love you anymore.” You no longer veiled reality, heartbroken.

“What?” Almost laughing, Roman scrunched up his chiseled face. “Princess…”

“Don't touch me. I'm serious.” You stepped back, fed up.

For quite a while, Roman Reigns worked as the Tribal Chief while shaming your brothers. Jimmy and Jey have suffered long enough at this point.

“Listen…” Roman tried.

“If you go around hurting Jimmy and Jey, what am I supposed to do?!” You shouted, prompting warm tears. Makeup would dampen all over your face.

“I'm sorr…” Before Roman could say anything else and apologize, you stormed out, encouraged by fans who cheered no matter what.

Fuck! Reigns yelled within.

*****

“Who lied, dammit?!” Marching forward, Roman ducked the ring and almost barked, enraged following this breakup.

“We didn't lie about anything! It's true.” Jimmy and Jey scrambled to respond for you as fans yelled in all directions. “She's done with your ass!”

“Who does she want now, huh? Who crossed my baby? Tell me!” As dark tresses of loose hair kept shadowing his face, Roman fumed directly underneath spotlights.

“A-Town Down!” Just before everyone could respond again, this nearly robotic sound picked up in the large-scale venue.

“Oh my gosh! Mr. Money In The Bank arrived. Austin Theory pulled the fray.” Commentators would dramatize this moment for television.

“Move, man!” Jimmy and Jey hurried to leave this ring, watching elsewhere before Roman spiraled.

“Reigns erupted with Theory! We can't even relay hits yet. You'll see utter chaos!” Announcers struggled through madness as the crowd lost their minds.

“Piece of shit! Look up when I'm talking to you. Huh? You'll never be like me.” Censors barely caught drops of explicit language when Roman pulled Austin's collar.

“I care…” Austin struggled, hardly, able to stand up. “Leave us alone…”

Kneeling, Roman alluded to forces by reaching Austin's chin and prompted eye contact.

“My baby, she's mine!” Roman's Southern accent deepened as he faced the backstage cameras and knew that you watched everything right now.

Fed up, Reigns nearly shoved Austin back down and exited the ring, devastated.

“The Tribal Chief just lost his Queen, ladies and gentlemen. An unexpected chapter has now turned pages.” Announcers pulled heartstrings to end this broadcast.

[possibilistfanfiction]

arcane prompt "hospital"?

[jinx deserves the world, also it's nice to let cait use her girlboss disposition for good sometimes, yknow. ao3 here.]

///

you hand caitlyn a cup of black tea she probably thinks is beyond shitty; it's all they had at the cart in the courtyard, and you still have no idea how to make proper tea anyway. still, she smiles — small, and residually scared, but genuine — in thanks. she's been crying, you can tell: her eyes are red-rimmed and the sweater of vi's she'd thrown on in the middle of the night is rumpled around the sleeves, like she'd used them to wipe her tears.

'she's going to be okay, right?' you look at vi's still, bruised form in the bed. 'they didn't, like, tell you really bad news while i was gone or something.'

caitlyn steadies herself. 'no,' she assures you. 'she's going to be just fine.'

'okay,' you say, and you trust her because she loves vi and because she's a doctor, and mostly because at this point caitlyn wouldn't lie to you. you scoot your chair forward and lace your fingers together with vi's hand, the one without an iv taped into it, and squeeze gently, just a hello. the doctors had explained that she's on a lot of medicine to keep her comfortable, plus the anesthesia from her surgery, so she's not going to wake up until midday at the earliest. but just in case she can feel you, you want her to know that you're there. you remember coming out of the worst sedations, medication that was wrong for you or just way too high a dose, to vi slumped next to your bedside, her big, strong hand steadfast around yours. 'did you see her x-rays or medical history or something?'

'i didn't intend to,' she says in way of an answer.

'ah.' you fiddle with vi's fingers. 'gnarly, huh?'

she puts her tea down on the small table near the bed and runs a hand through her hair before she scrapes it up into a messy ponytail. 'i knew, in theory,' she says. 'we've talked about things, of course. i'm able to help take care of when her chronic back pain flares, and how she really should have a surgical repair on her bad shoulder. but, i just, well. i suppose i comprehend the breadth of it now, more completely at least, the details in a way i can understand.'

you don't know; you don't ever want to know, not like that. vi still has nightmares about prison, still doesn't eat enough sometimes, still refuses heating pads and advil sometimes after a hard shift. 'yeah.'

'and i suppose, too, that it's hard to know how much she's hurt, even if it's so much less bad now.' she shrugs, helpless, and looks at you. 'i just love her.'

it had been terrifying, to get a call in the middle of the night from the fire department: vi had been in a building when it collapsed, and she was hurt and it was, potentially, very bad. you're not sure who they'd called first — you or caitlyn — but she'd texted you a minute after and offered to pick you up so you could both wait at the hospital while vi was in surgery. it had taken two hours before her dad came out and explained that vi had some internal injuries that still needed more fixing in surgery, as well as a few bruises and scrapes, but she would recover fully with time.

'you should move in with each other,' you say.

caitlyn pauses for a few moments, but then she lets out a quiet laugh. 'how long have you been holding that in?'

you shrug. 'you guys have been together for two years. i know vi wants to.' you don't mention that you hack into caitlyn's person email on occasion, just because you like to be nosey; you don't mention that you'd seen her and vi send property listings back and forth the last few months. 'i know she hasn't said anything to me because she doesn't want to upset me, or make me think like she's choosing you over me, or whatever.'

caitlyn considers it calmly. 'she would never do that, you know.'

'yeah.' you do; it's the thing you know most in the world. 'i also know that she's scared that if she doesn't help me at much, i'll have another episode.'

that, caitlyn has no response to.

'i've talked about this a lot in therapy.' you squeeze vi's hand, just in case she's listening too. 'at first i couldn't manage any of it without her, for sure.'

vi had spent her first month out of prison visiting you in your tent in the scariest part of town, not pushing, just bringing you food and warm clothes, comfortable blankets; she'd sit with you for hours if you'd let her, even if most of the time you talked to voices only you could hear and saw things she never would. finally, you agreed to go to the hospital with her, and from there it was more months of getting clean, and trying different medications, and really lame group therapy, and coming to terms with your diagnosis. vi was there as often as she could be, clean-cut for once while she went through the fire academy. you don't remember many details, but when you'd finally gotten released, she'd brought you to this small, rundown one bedroom apartment that she'd made as nice as she could. the first night you were home, she fell asleep in bed next to you in less than a minute, a few tears on her cheeks, seemingly of their own accord. it's always been a measure of love you'll always be a little in awe of.

'but, like, i remember my meds on my own now. i have a system.'

caitlyn's smile is honest-to-god proud. 'that's no small feat.'

you try to act nonchalant, but she's right: most of your medications have side effects that require other medications to off-set, and it's a nightmare if you don't coordinate them properly. 'and, like, my graduate program is going well, and i have friends, and i like climbing. i feel, not good, i guess. maybe i'll never feel good. but i feel real, and most of the time the world feels real too.'

caitlyn lays her hand on top of yours, and vi's.

'anyway,' you say, clearing your throat so you don't cry. you run your free hand through your hair, grown out some now after your "interesting decision," as vi had said, last year during a meltdown. 'vi can move out, and ekko can move in to our apartment. he's —' your boyfriend? your best friend? your favorite person, other than vi?

caitlyn smiles gently. 'he is.'

'he knows what to do, if i need help.'

'and i know you want to live with vi, and i know she wants to live with you.' even though you invade their privacy by checking emails, you'd never spill the beans that they've both individually been looking at rings. 'i can manage, without her there as much. i don't think either of us ever thought that would be our reality, which is why vi hasn't brought it up. i know she's still scared, probably forever. it was scary.' you take a big breath and then let it out; when you'd first gotten your diagnosis, it seemed like you would never get to be a full, independent person, and then it would be a death sentence. 'but i want to try. i can try.'

caitlyn squeezes your hand, and vi's too. 'i believe you will do wonderfully, in both my professional and personal opinion.'

'oh. really?'

she nods. 'you haven't had a full blown episode in over a year. i see you manage your days, and your impulses. clinically, you're actually a great patient. personally, you're a pain in the ass sometimes, but not because you're unwell.'

'just because of my stunning charm and incredible sense of humor? my flair for the dramatic?'

'something like that, sure.'

you laugh. 'thank you, so so much.'

she rolls her eyes but she's still fond of you, especially in the early morning light. vi's eyes are both bruised blue, but caitlyn had told you that surgeons had finally fixed her broken nose after it broke again this time: you're pretty sure vi hasn't been able to breathe properly since she was, like, twelve. at the very least she'll snore less, so a win for all of you. 'we found a house we want to put an offer in on,' she admits.

'yeah?'

she nods. 'it's not too far from your place, and it's right on the park.'

you scoff, just for posterity. 'fancy.'

she's unfazed by this point. 'we — well, vi was going to tell you, but i know it's fine if i do. we know you and ekko want to keep your current place, and i'd actually like to sit down with both of you and see if there's any way i can assist with your rent or other budgetary items.'

you're definitely, 100% about to cry, all of a sudden.

'she is so proud of you, for even being able to consider pursuing increased independence.'

you sniffle.

'but, the brownstone we're looking at also has a fully finished basement, with a bedroom and a small living area, its own bathroom. we've planned for it to be your space, whenever you want it, for any reason, for however long you'd like to stay. a night, a year. you will always have a home with violet, which means you will always have a home with me too.'

you have to do your deep breathing: sometimes kindness, especially given freely, is what makes the world slide most off-kilter. there are always voices telling you that you don't deserve good things, that caitlyn, and vi, and ekko, and vander, and even caitlyn's parents, when you go over to their giant ass mansion for celebratory dinners or parties, are lying to you. but you put your head down against your joined hands and count to ten, whisper it aloud, and then sit back up. caitlyn is waiting patiently.

'how big is the house?'

she laughs, heartily, and pulls out her phone to show you pictures and specifications. it's beautiful — not that you'd ever expect less of caitlyn kirammen — but she also tells you the plans she has to decorate, and your chest aches with a happiness so tinged with grief when she casually explains things vi wants in each room too. it's a life you never dreamed you'd get to have, and you know vi has probably been having total menty-b's about all of this, but she deserves a home more than anyone you've ever met.

'it's fine, i guess,' you say, after caitlyn finishes showing you their plans for the patio and yard.

caitlyn laughs. 'up to your standards?'

'could use more neon.'

'keep it confined to the basement, and you've got a deal.'

'ugh.'

'the only request i have is that you not blow it up.'

you pretend to contemplate. 'that's reasonable, i guess.' you look around at all the monitors proclaiming your big sister's strong heart and lungs and brain, despite it all. 'vi's gonna be so relieved that we don't have to have a heart to heart when she wakes up.'

caitlyn looks at the still planes of vi's face adoringly. disgusting, still. 'she'll be difficult enough as it stands, i'm sure.'

'total pain in the ass.'

////

you spend the first night after vi moves out in your apartment with ekko, and you fall asleep with your head tucked into his chest, safe still, even now. that weekend, you haul a duffle bag of your stuff — clothes, toiletries, a quarter of your lab, a few cans of spray paint — to vi and caitlyn's new house. neither of them are home yet, vi stuck grumpily on desk duty for the evening and caitlyn's meeting running over.

but your key turns in the lock, and your favorite snacks are stocked in the pantry. eventually, they both get home, and they're happy to see you, and caitlyn laughs at the improvements you've already done to the walls of the basement. vi ruffles your hair and you bully both of them into ordering tacos like you want, even though they have plenty of things you could cook at home. caitlyn is polite enough to let you curl up with vi on the couch, just for tonight, and you fall asleep, safe and warm, there too.