#I have so much to say about this warm little series I apologize in advance for flooding the tags

[kayjaywrites]

Like Bugs in a Rug Chapter 2.5

Bonus Chapter

Previous Chapter

NOTE: Although this bonus chapter could be read by itself, I think it will hit so much harder if you at least read Chapter Two beforehand. Don't remember what happened last? Don't worry about it, this is a series of one shots, so you can basically pick-up and read in whatever order.

Story Summary: Azriel Shadowsinger, mysterious pretty boy extraordinaire himself, was head over heels in love with you for years. Everyone in the room could see it, except for you of course. A series of connected one-shots.

Chapter Word Count: 2,100 Words Chapter Music Inspo: LMS - Aislinn Davis (Does this song super relate to the chapter? Not really, but kinda if you squint. I don’t always get to choose what songs inspire me to write, and for whatever reason, this one did it for this chappy.)

XxXx

Azriel’s POV

Azriel didn’t knock. He waltzed into Rhysand’s office with swift authority. In a few long strides he was at Rhysand’s desk before the door had time to drift shut behind him. The small amount of self-restraint Azriel had maintained during his flight to The House of Wind vanished at the sight of the asshole, his fury vibrating with the need for release. He so rarely embraced the part of himself that craved such brutish violence, but as he advanced on Rhysand he tossed his gloves to the floor. He needed to feel this.

Rhysand didn’t have time to fully look up from his task. His pen was still in the middle of scribbling his signature on some paperwork when Azriel leaned over the desk and took a fist full of the front of his tunic into one hand.

He yanked the High Lord up from his chair so hard the fabric made a tearing noise. He drew Rhysand into an awkward half standing, half crouched position, holding fast as he loomed over him. Much to Azriel’s annoyance, Rhysand only seemed mildly taken aback by Azriel’s crass arrival, the bastard was expecting him.

Rhysand’s typical air of nonchalance had never bothered him in the way it did now. It was disgusting, how he could jeopardize something so precious to Azriel, and then chose fucking paperwork over trying to fix it.

He sneered in Rhysand’s face. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Hey, hey.” Rhysand tried to straighten, but Azriel didn’t give an inch. Rhysand reached a hand for Azriel’s wrist instead, as if to protect his fancy tunic from ripping further. Azriel fixed Rhysand with a scowl that promised harsh violence if he touched him, so Rhysand let his hand fall.

Maybe the High Lord hadn’t completely lost his mind, had a little self preservation instinct left in him after all.

“Az, I’m going to apologize, you don’t need to do this.”

Don’t need to do this? The cold rage clouding Azriel’s mind said otherwise. He barely registered his blue siphons flashing as his shadows rose up behind him, dangerous and menacing just like him. He pulled Rhysand closer, the thread along the collar of the tunic fraying, their faces now inches apart as he looked down at Rhysand with blatant revulsion.

The scent of your tears lingered in Azriel’s nose like you were still falling apart in his arms. For as long as he lived, Azriel would remember what it felt like to see your confidence and hope flicker like a dying flame when all he could offer you was his embrace. It wasn’t enough, he knew that, and it made him feel so helpless. All Azriel wanted was for you to feel like you belonged here, with the Inner Circle, with him.

And they had made damned good progress too, it was slow, but he could tell that you were warming up to the idea of trusting the Inner Circle. Until this dick went and fucked it all up.

So yeah. He did need to do this.

“I fucked up,” Rhysand rushed out, his violet eyes seemed to take in every twitch of Azriel’s face, reading the unspoken threat for what it was, “I’m not saying I don’t deserve this. I’m saying that I already agree with you, I went too far, and I will apologize.”

Azriel huffed an exhale, nostrils flaring. You’d been so distraught, so emotionally and physically exhausted that you fell asleep a few minutes into the flight to Mor’s apartment. You’d never admitted as much, but he knew you had a bit of a phobia of heights, it’s why he never pressured you to fly with him. He had dreamed of the first time he’d take to the sky with you, planned out each scenario, wondered how you’d look the first time you saw Velaris from above. He’d always imagined your face to be alight with wonder.

If he had any reservation about confronting Rhysand, it vanished by the time he entered Mor’s apartment. You didn’t even stir when he laid you down on Mor’s bed. He considered returning to The House of Wind while you were asleep, but the idea of you waking up here alone kept him rooted to your side. He sat on the bed next to you while he waited for Mor to return home, he knew she would take good care of you, she took her duty as a newly discovered older sister very seriously. He found himself absentmindedly smoothing your mused hair from your face. Using his gloved fingers to wipe away dried tear tracks from your cheeks. He was unable to stop comparing the peaceful expression you wore in your sleep to the heartbreak he’d seen while on the stairs.

The room was silent, but his mind was loud as he spiraled, thoughts fixated on how he'd failed you. Had Rhysand sent him away to Windhaven first thing in the morning on purpose, to set him up for failure? Were there really any rumors of an uprising in the camp? Azriel hadn't found any, and it seemed like a mighty convenient distraction.

By the time Mor arrived home he was visibly seething with no concept of how much time had actually passed while he waited. He barely greeted her, gesturing to your sound asleep form on the bed as he made his exit. 

Of course, Azriel was furious on your behalf, but that wasn’t what triggered the bloodlust, not completely. He was supposed to protect you, mind and body, and he failed you so spectacularly. He’d assumed that Rhysand had similar intentions, had fully trusted him to protect you while he was away. He would never be so foolish again, he just hoped that you’d stick around long enough to see that.

What if the damage Rhysand dealt couldn’t be smoothed over by a mere apology.

Studying Rhysand now, he seemed so certain that he could smooth this over. He didn’t seem remotely sorry enough for Azriel’s taste. His free hand clenched into a tight fist, something eerily similar to hatred bubbled in him like acid. If Rhysand didn’t feel guilt or remorse for what he’d done to you, then he certainly didn’t care how his actions impacted him either. 

Azriel meet his chosen brother’s beseeching stare with contempt as he spoke, words sharp as they left his lips. “When Feyre was first adjusting to the Night Court, I did everything I could to make her feel comfortable and welcome because one way or the other, I knew she was important to you. That made her important to me too. Well before she became my high lady.”

Something defensive surfaced in Rhysand at the thinly veiled accusation. “Are you implying that I don’t care about my own cousin?”

“No,” Azriel snapped back, “I’m implying that you don’t care about me. How dare you speak to her like that knowing exactly what she means to me.”

Rhysand inhaled sharply through his teeth, fixing Azriel with a stern frown, as if he was the one disappointed in him. “I am the High Lord, Azriel, how many times must I remind you that my duty to my Court has to trump the comfort of those in my Inner Circle? She would have had to face Kier eventually, as you know, he thinks she’s spying on us for him. Was I supposed to risk a civil war because she wasn’t prepared?” Rhysand’s calculating eyes were hard as he paused for a moment, as if considering his next sentence carefully, “Just like how I expect you to make uncomfortable choices for the sake of the Court, I expect her to do what must be done to protect the Court as well. That is what it takes to be a part of my Inner Circle."

At one point, referencing the confrontation with Rhysand after getting caught canoodling with Elain would have sent him over the deep end. That conversation marked the first time he truly questioned the depth of Rhysand’s compassion for those in his Inner Circle. Even if Rhysand had been right in the long run, the cold way in which he handled it did not settle well with Azriel. For the sake of his family, not the Court, he had backed down and buried the resentment he felt towards Rhysand. It had seemed worth it, to see Elain and Lucien so happy, and Azriel was finding his own happiness too.

Again, Azriel’s siphons blazed. Rhysand could walk all over him as much as he liked, he’d lived through worse well before he’d met him. But he wouldn’t let Rhysand treat you like that even again. You deserved so much better, especially from your High Lord. “Being the fucking High Lord does not give you the right to be an asshole. You know she already struggled with feeling out of place among us, you didn’t have to confirm her worst fears to get her to cooperate.”

“I know!” Rhysand snapped, trying a bit harder to pull away from Azriel and straighten to his full height, a warning gleaming in his eyes when Azriel didn't yield. He’d sooner rip the tunic all the way down the front than let Rhysand stand tall right now.

“I knew she would push back,” Rhysand continued, sounding offended. Good. “I knew I would have to be more stern with her than I’ve ever been before. I had a plan, but hadn’t accounted for what her magic would feel like when it went on the offensive. I didn’t know it could go on the offensive, I don’t think she knew she was doing it, she zoned out for about a couple minutes in the middle of the argument, totally unresponsive and just blankly staring at me. I couldn’t penetrate her mental shields at all. Her magic protected her from my own fiercely. I wasn’t ready, and my magic took the bait, I lost control of the situation. I’m going to apologize to her, Az. I’m going to explain myself.”

Azriel searched Rhysand’s face for any sign of deception, growing cross with Nesta and Mor for not mentioning the odd behavior earlier. Tense seconds of silence passed as Azriel processed the new information. Rhysand stayed stock still, unwavering under Azriel’s scrutiny. Jaw clenched, he filed this development under ‘suspicious’. He’d agonize over it when he was thinking clearer.

Exhaling a stressed breath, he unclenched the fist at his side. His other hand remained curled in Rhysand’s tunic, unwilling to release him quite yet.

“If she leaves because of this, I do too.” If Azriel’s intentions shocked Rhysand, the High Lord didn’t show it.

Hoisting Rhysand up until he stood up straight, Azriel made sure to tear the fabric down the front a good couple inches for good measure. “Fix. This. Rhys.” With that, Azriel shoved Rhysand away, releasing the collar of the tunic as the High Lord stumbled backwards, the back of his knees bumping into his office chair and toppling it over.

Azriel had nothing left to say to the other male, yet he was still wound so tight. Icy fury and hot protectiveness rushed through him like adrenaline as he turned his back to the High Lord, retreating to the door. 

This hadn’t made him feel better at all.

 Just as he was about to leave the room, as silent and quick as he arrived, he paused. “Meet me at the training grounds in 20 minutes.” He ordered, casting a challenging look to Rhysand over his shoulder, daring him to correct him for ordering his High Lord around.

When Rhysand remained passive, Azriel added. “Don’t make me come and get you.”

Then he clicked the office door closed behind him, making a beeline for the training grounds. He could sense his shadows scrambling to catch up with him. They’d loitered in Rhysand’s office a few seconds longer than him, and he almost reprimanded them for it. But then one of his bigger shadows materialized, curling down his arm to place his discarded gloves in his waiting palm. He dismissed the shadow, not quite with praise, but thankful nonetheless as he tucked the gloves into a vacant pocket in his leathers. It would have irked him if he had to ask Rhysand for them back, after he threw them to the floor in such a dramatic display only to not throw a single punch.

He’d get those punches in soon though, and he was going to enjoy every single one with bare hands. Then, he would focus his attention on what really mattered, supporting you. One day, he hoped to prove to you that you had people right here who would choose you over their Court every damned time.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

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Like Bugs in a Rug Tag List: @f4iry-bell @jediknightjana @microwaveallthedemons olive-main @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @5onedirection5 @lilah-asteria @witchymomfrien @landofpetrichor @quinzzelx @tsibba01 @brieflyclassymortal @hauntedstudentobservationus

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 9 - Say goodnight

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Some smut…insecurities in reader

I’m back! I’ve been a bit caught up with work and parenting so things have been a little crazy. Hoping I should have more time coming up to dedicate to this! Apologies in advance…this is a little smut/fluff to warm us up before we get into the angst next chapter (I’m sorry) As always, your reblogs and comments mean the world – it’s lovely to see people engaging with his story!

You slugged him hard on the shoulder, something you seemed to be doing a lot lately.

“Really? That’s all you have to say?” you scolded, still slightly breathless.

Annoyed, you tensed up and began pushing against his chest to prise yourself off him. You saw the slight look of fear on his face as he wrapped his arms around you in what was essentially a bear hug – keeping himself inside of you.

“Hey, whoa! It was a joke. I’m sorry…I guess that was all kinda intense and I didn’t really know what to say,” he admitted, looking a little sheepish. “I meant to lighten the mood, not piss you off, believe it or not. That’s the last thing I want, okay?”

You softened a little as he kissed you again. It was true, despite his charm he was often clumsy with his words and misread the room. He didn’t seem to do it on purpose…so you let it go. This time, anyway.

“Alright…fine,” you relented as your muscles relaxed again. “But you don’t always have to…fill the silence, y��know? Sometimes…you can just be”.

He nodded. “I know, I’m trying,” he said gently as he moved a strand of hair from your face. “But look…that was…amazing. Just…wow”.

He laughed and you laughed too. “Wow is much better,” you giggled. “I can work with wow…”

*

The two of you continued to ‘wow’ one another over the upcoming weeks. Your place. His place. Once or twice in the back office at the bar (dangerously close to being caught when Peter knocked that second time…and Bucky angrily told him he was too busy doing the books when actually you were on your knees in front of him…)

His touch was addictive. You didn’t think you’d ever get enough. Even little things like him subtly brushing a finger over your lower back as he passed, or leaning over and pressing himself into you as he went to grab a drink from the bar, seemed to get you going. He knew exactly what he was doing too, shooting you a little wink or smirk each time. He liked to keep you on edge.

Neither of you had raised if you were going to go ‘public’ with your little arrangement. You didn’t want to bring it up, not wanting to appear needy or to want a ‘what are we?’ type conversation. You did tell Wanda and Vis, there were your only real friends here outside of the MC and you didn’t like the idea of lying to them about how you were spending your evenings. They had been surprised, and Wanda had warned you to be careful – she told you Bucky’s reputation was based on two things – whatever sketchy shit he had going on behind the front of his businesses, and the copious amounts of women he landed. Neither of which was a shock to you, but you were grateful for her cautioning.

If you were honest, the secret nature of your relationship with Bucky was welcomed by you. Part of you felt a little self-conscious – like the MC would all think ‘oh, there goes another one…’ or view you differently because of it. Another silly girl getting entangled with Bucky…What else is new? Keeping things quiet meant you wouldn’t embarrass yourself when it unavoidably started to go wrong…

Plus, you didn’t really want to have to deal with any other women who had him on their radar, particularly Amber…

…Who wasn’t really around as much. Her friends still came by the bar, and she did too sometimes. But less and less so. Bucky hadn’t mentioned her, you weren’t sure if he had spoken to her or if she’d just moved on elsewhere. You didn’t think he would’ve brought you up with her, but maybe she sensed he was either pulling away or spending time with another girl.

You’d hoped she had just met a nice guy and had moved on from the MC…but there was a moment one evening where you were pouring a beer at the bar and Bucky had leaned over under the guise of picking up a box at your feet, only to whisper something salacious in your ear as he passed. You’d giggled and grinned, elbowing him away playfully, and as you looked back up you had locked eyes with Amber from across the room. You’d given her a small smile, but she just stared right back. You felt oddly under fire, as if caught out, despite the fact anyone watching the same interaction most likely wouldn’t have batted an eyelid. It was as if Amber was in tune with Bucky in a way the others weren’t, especially when a rival was concerned, and she saw through your bullshit immediately.

You’d barely seen her since that night, but maybe that was for the best. You weren’t interested in beefing with another woman over a man, especially not that woman. And that man…

Aside from Amber, the only other person you wondered who might not be fooled was Steve. He and Bucky were best friends, after all. More like brothers, as Bucky had explained to you. They had grown up together. Steve had been with Bucky through it all, been dutifully by his side when he recovered from losing his arm, ran the MC with him and stuck with him no matter what.

Even if Bucky hadn’t told Steve about you, he seemed to be more aware than some of the others. His stoic silence often was down to him surveying the scene, taking everything in. A mouse couldn’t fart in the bar without Steve knowing about it. He was the eyes and ears of the MC. He had never said anything directly to you, but there had been a few looks he gave you and Bucky that seemed pointed. His sky blue eyes said much more than he did. But maybe you were just projecting…

Thankfully, everyone else was as oblivious as you needed them to be.

Once, as you sat with a few club members to wind down after closing, Bucky had brazenly dragged his hand over your bare thigh under the table. It had been a warm and stuffy night, so you’d done your shift in a pair of denim shorts and a t-shirt. You’d discreetly raised an eyebrow at him, which quickly evolved into an expression of controlled panic as he trailed his finger across your skin before casually unzipping your fly and making his way in, moving past your underwear. You’d bitten your lip to stay quiet as he found your clit and began working you over, all the while chatting away to Bruce like nothing was happening. You tried to bat him away, but he kept coming back, and you soon caught on that people would notice if you tried any harder and made a scene as a result. You quickly understood he was counting on using your embarrassment to silence you.

And, well, damn him - it did feel good…

He didn’t look over at you once as he continued, but his fingers didn’t let up as you began to feel the familiar heat build within. You hated to admit to yourself how much it excited you. You knew how wet you were, how close you were. He knew it too, based on how he began to adjust his pace and pressure. Your entire body tensed as you realised to your horror, that in spite your discomfort, your body was about to betray you and give you a very public orgasm. As the feeling bloomed and the heat swelled, you took a large sip of your water and glanced downwards in an attempt to cover up any potential facial expressions that might give you away. You choked on the mouthful, spitting a little out down your chin as your climax hit, your shoulders shuddering.

“You okay?” Sam asked from across the table as he looked at you with concern.

You nodded bashfully, “Uh, yeah, sorry,” you croaked – still dazed and a little out of it, “Choked on my water”.

“You gotta go easy, doll,” Bucky chimed in smugly as he withdrew his hand and subtly zipped up your shorts.

You glared at him with an expressionless face, but your eyes told him all he needed to know as he defiantly smirked back at you. He then retained eye contact as he appeared to ‘absent-mindedly’ suck on the tip of his finger and pretended to listen to Nat’s conversation with Sam. You managed to suppress a squeak as you felt the warmth rush to your cheeks.

Later, to pay him back for his little stunt, you angrily rode him back at his place and edged him until he was a whiny mess begging for release. Which you gladly gave him (eventually). Then you were even. It wasn’t often you took charge with him, but you knew he enjoyed it when you did. Just as much as he enjoyed when you were the babbling wreck.

That seemed to be a large part of your dynamic, always trying to one-up each other and ‘win’. It was thrilling, exciting. It probably wasn’t healthy…but you didn’t care. This wasn’t serious anyway. It was just fun. Someone to spend the time with in-between sorting through Granny’s boxes and painting her walls. Someone to make you laugh and give you orgasms and kill time with at your bar job. Someone whose initial rule that you didn’t sleepover had lapsed when you both passed out after a particularly vigorous session. Someone whose arms you awoke in the following morning, who didn’t rag on you for sleeping over but instead kissed your crown and didn’t speak. Someone who laid with you and held you so tenderly that it silenced you, famously a smart mouth, you, too. Someone who you began to sleep with most nights, even when you weren’t working. Whose absence you felt when he wasn’t there, someone who you realised you slept better with alongside. Dreamless, deep sleep that actually felt restorative and restful and allowed you to wake feeling refreshed and ready for the day. Someone who in the early light of day would smile sleepily at you and kiss you, morning breath be damned, and pull you into him like you hadn’t just been sleeping in his arms for all those hours before.

Someone not serious.

Another time, late one night, he took you out on his bike. The feeling of the wind in your hair, the exhilaration of the speed, the warmth of his leather as you wrapped your arms around his waist…it helped you to understand why Bucky loved all of this so much. There was something very freeing about rocketing down the roads at top speeds, not shrouded in a box as you were in a car, just out in the air – free and uninhibited.

He drove you both to a hillside on the edge of town where you could see everything below. You’d sat on the grassy verge together and silently watched the lights of the buildings beneath you, thinking about all those people in their homes…going about their lives. Were they happy? Is this what they imagined their life would be?

Is this how you’d imagined yours?

Maybe.

He moved his hand over your own and kept it there, not speaking. You didn’t really need to speak when it came to Bucky. You did talk, sometimes late into the night – about your past, your passions, your disappointments and fears. He was easy to talk to, he didn’t always say the right thing but he listened intently. He remembered details and brought them up later. Being with him was just…easy. In silence or in noise.

You both sat there, hand in hand, time lost as you watched the lights below and the stars above. One by one the houses would go dark, the residents retiring to their beds as their home slept along with them. Unknowingly watched over by the two of you as you continued your silent observation. You could see Granny’s home in the distance, the porch lights on for your ease when you got home later. You wondered if Granny had ever been up here, if she’d seen her home the way you saw it now.

Bucky turned to you and smiled, leaning in and kissing you softly. Taking his time as his nose brushed against yours and the strands of his hair slipped out from behind his ears. If you’d dropped dead at that second, you knew you would be at peace.

Your stomach curled as you realised what this all meant. The inevitable fact you’d been hiding from yourself for some time.

You were in love with Bucky Barnes.

[mayzi33]

*clears throat.*

(apologize in advance for any mistakes english isn't my first language)

Alright. Here we go.

Look, I haven't watched MLP in a LONGGGG time. But recently with all the stuff I missed our and since the fandom is still pretty much alive and well I decided to take peek by peek in the seasons I haven't watched.

Until I came across, these guys

And I have so much to say.

I didn't write a script for this or anything so I don't know where this rambling is going so I just ask you to bear with me for as much as you can, okay?

Look, watching the Young Six episodes I've experienced one of the things that angers me the most. SUCH. WASTED. POTENTIAL.

You're telling me we got whatever the hell is G5 when instead we could have gotten THESE GUYS???? THESE COOL, UNIQUE CHARACTERS THAT ACTUALLY HAVE AN INTERESTING STORY THAT MAKES SENSE AND HAVE SI MUCH POTENTIAL TO BE ONE OF THE SICKEST LORE ARCS IN MLP???

I homestly don't know what Hasbro WAS THINKING in giving them so little screentime. There's so much I have to say but I'll try my best to keep my thoughts organized.

First things first, we'll need to talk a little about G5 or "Make Your Mark" series or whatever. I personally enjoyed the movie, though the story didn't make much sense (we'll get to that later) the characters were pretty nice, the songs were catchy and the animation was mwah. I didn't bother to watch all of the G5 series, because- (pardon to all who enjoy it) it's so. Freaking. Boring. Like I know there's a pony girl that's supposed to be a traitor among them but then grows onto being their actual friend and there's a villainess and that whole conflict and yada yada yada. But honestly there just isn't anything I found enganging in the entire thing. I can't explain it, it just feels- off. I know I probably don't have much right to talk, cause again, only now I'm diving into the mlp again after missing out A LOT, but I just can't bring myself to like that series.

Now, the whole School Of Friendship saga in the G4 series with our beloved Young Six, I know some people had some issues with it and it didn't please everyone, and while it does have some flaws and is certainly not perfect, you can't deny there was lots of potential. (I'll try to not overuse that word I'm sorry)

I personally, really liked the concept of different creatures from different cultures coming together and forming the perfectly diverse friend group. Episodes like The Hearth's Warming Club and What Lies Beneath were particuarly really fun, it was nice to dive into their cultures and backstories while also watching the six of them be vulnerable in front of one another and grow closer. If only they had more screentime and more deep episodes like that, they could have been in the top 10 found families in cartoons.

Now, just some other reasons as to why I think they're interesting characters and should've gotten more than what was given to them.

Because

1- Their whole deal is that they're not all ponies, that they're all different species. We get to learn lots about their different cultures and customs. It would've been such a good way to teach children about acceptance and respecting differences while also being entertaining. Especially in a school enviroment.

2- We got not one, but TWO male characters in the group. It would make little boys that are interested in mlp feel more comfortable and valid for it. AND those two males also have distinct personalities and their own active roles. Gallus being sort of the leader of the group, and Sandbar being the only pony therefore the one to stand up for his friends.

3- While they're supposed to be the new represantives of the elements of harmonies, their personalities are still interesting and different from the Mane 6.

Onto that, I really like how it's implied they could be the next helders (or whatever its called) of the elements of harmony. Given their special connection to the tree, how similiar they are to the previous groups (Mane 6 and The Pillars) and how Twilight LITERALLY LIFTED THEM UP AS WELL WHILE SHE SPOKE ABOUT HOW THE ELEMENTS WILL LIVE ON, it would've been such a cool concept.

Onto that, I wanna talk a bit about each of their characters too and how I think they could've been dealt with.

Gallus is the element of magic, but unlike Twilight who's all open and confident-spoken about friendship and all, Gallus is probably the one in the group that's the most closed-off and dislikes getting all cheesy. It would've been interesting seeing his development as the helder ot the element of magic. AND ESPECIALLY since he doesn't have magic in the first place, since Twilight and Starwirl were unicorns. So maybe he could make posions? Get powers someway else? Many posibilities

Sandbar is the element of kindness, but unlike Fluttershy he's extrovert and down to making friends. His overrall personality is that he's constantly very chill-going and nothing seems to ever upset or annoy him. So it also would've been interesting to see how that pattern would break, especially because of his element.

Yona is the element of honesty. She's probably the one that has the hardest time adapting to the Equestrians among the group, and even tried to act like a pony instead of herself one episode. It would've been interesting to see how her element of honesty reflects on how she should be true to herself, especially since her Yak culture comes a lot with honor.

Ocellus is the element of genority, yet, unlike Rarity, she's a lot more like Fluttershy, being timid and insecure, while also being smart and well-read like Twilight. It would've been nice if her development with her element would be gaining confidence in herself and being generous to others that way. Especially since she has a fear of being like the old changling queen (forgot her name) so imagine if she just turned out to be the opposite of her. Instead of selfish and cruel, being generous and kind.

Smolder is the element of loyality, but also like Gallus, she's also not into getting cheesy. But what I find imteresting about her is how she tries to keep her tough, agressive persona (since thats how dragons are) yet it is revealed she's actually interested in cute, fluffy stuff like tea parties and dresses. So it would've been cool to see her growing confident in admiting her interests, therefore being more like Rainbow Dash, who's always confident on herself

And last but not least, Silverstream is the element of laughter. But what's hooking about it is the fact that Silverstream herself probably hasn't KNOWN what laughter is for a long time, having to hide under The Storm King's rule. She's very talkctive, creative and extrovert, like Pinkie Pie, but she also has her trauma that haunts and intimidates her, unlike Pinkie who usually faces her fears headfront. Another great development story.

So just hear me out, okay. I don't care if MLP is over. I don't care if there's G5.

We. Need. A. Young. Six. Spin-off. Series.

I know it sounds crazy, but I genuely think this idea could work out if it was handled well enough, and Hasbro could make some good money out of this.

Just bear with me. A spin-off series set on the timeline between season 8-9 aka, still on the School Of Friendship, focused entirely on the Young Six. We could still get the Mane 6, of course, but mostly as support characters. It doesn't have to be a particularly long series, (though maybe that could work as well IF handled with enough care) maybe just 2 seasons or so. And I'm not thinking like a slice-of-life or fun little extra kind of thing, I'm thinking of ACTUAL lore. Just more about how the tree and the elements work, and how these six students could grow into being their new helders. In each episode it becomes more and more evident to them and the Mane 6 themselves that they're going to be the next generation of the elements. So imagine once they all fully it figure out and talk about it, the Y6 suddenly feel this pressure about how they're supposed to live up to their teachers and fear that they have to be EXACTLY like them. So we see Sandbar taking extra kindness classes with Fluttershy, Yona taking extra honesty classes with Applejack and heck even Gallus is taking studies more seriously (especially since he's supposed to be the element of magic which again I find imteresting since he doesn't really have magic at least not the way Twilight and Starwirl do. ) So we could have an entire episode about the M6 getting through to them and showing they don't have to be JUST LIKE THEM nor The Pillars. They can be their own people.

Another main-plot idea would be having more villains, probably trying to test them or tear them apart (cough cough like Swift Foot from the idw comics cough cough) or maybe you could even fit someone as intense as King Sombra, or maybe even even the return of Tirek, Cozy Glow and Chrysalis in there. (I remembered her name yay)

And, of course, more onto their characters, flaws, backstories and cultures! I would love to see more about their people and customs, just as much as I would love to explore their traumas, fears, ugly sides and how they overcome it together (cough cough found family COUGH COUGH GAGS)

And another thing, I especially would've liked to explore Yona's and Sandbar's relantioship.

I MEAN LOOK AT THEM-

Don't they give massive beauty-and-the-beast vibes? I love how their colors and body types contrast with one and another, and their personalities aswell. Yona being loud, cheerful and clumsy while Sandbar is calm, thoughtful and carefree. I just love the big girl x soooorta small guy vibes and I especially loved how gentle and reassuring Sandbar was towards her in that episode. I mean, "I don't care if you're not a pony, you're the best Yona I know." SERIOUSLY? WHO WROTE THAT LINE? I'D LIKE TO GIVE THEM A HUG. And also, onto the spin-off series matter, it would also be a cool topic to explore. Imagine if some ponies/yaks are judging them for having a relantioship while being different species and they learn to ignore them and live past that??? I usually don't care much for romance, (always prefered friendship and found families) but this would've been a nice little arc and episode theme to see.

Lastly, (I'm almost done I promise) to the more technical/economical part.

Like I said in the beggining, I genuely think Hasbro could make some good money out of this. Firstly because it will be using the G4 characters and lore and not...whatever mess of a plot G5 is.

And secondly because, if they took the time to give them some cool power-up designs like they did with the Mane 6, I'M SURE the toys would sell.

I mean- JUST LOOK AT THESE COOL DESIGNS I FOUND ON THE INTERNET?? (not mine, credits to whoever made it, you ate that)

DON'T THEY LOOK LIKE A TOY SET THAT WOULD CATCH THE CHILDREN'S EYES ON THE TOY AISLE? OH YES I THINK THEY WOULD.

And if anything, they could be as bold as to make an extra Equestria Girls (well, girls and boys) series with them. I know it sounds kinda dumb, especially given the fact that I'm not sure about how that would work given that when Spike went to the "human dimension" or whatever he turned to a dog... So Smolder would also be a dog? Sandbar would be the only actual human in the group?... BUT I'm sure they could come up with some excuse to make it work. Give them some cool, colorful outfits for different events and I'm sure it would sell. And ESPECIALLY since with Gallus and Sandbar in the group, it could get the attetion of young boys aswell.

Anyways. That was it.

Uhm. Conclusion: Hasbro should hire me. I know what I'm talking about. I think. At least a bit.

And I genuely think this could work if only SOMEONE gave it the time and care.

I don't know how to end ramblings so uhmmmm thank you all for coming to my pep talk.

They deserved better.

[cxtori]

word count: 5,258

series masterlist

playlist: spotify youtube

tori’s note: umm… I may have gone overboard with this… sorry. But also NOT sorry because I had fun writing it lol. I would also like to apologize in advance for the pain this is going to cause 🫂

“War is no place for a child”. 

You hear those words muttered every so often as you walk by the soldiers in the barracks. 

A battlefield full of violence and evil, blood and injuries. It was no sight for someone so young, someone who barely understood the concept of life and death. But, despite that bit of common sense, the greed of others is what landed you and your older sister here.

You and Akiko had abilities that most would consider beautiful gifts. That to heal the injuries of others without much effort. But your sister would often call it a curse, though you didn’t understand why. 

You didn’t know what was going on, the conflict that was happening just several hundred yards away from your bed. The only thing you were ever told was that there were people who were hurt, and you had to help them. Afterall, how do you explain the complex nature of war to a mere 7 year old? 

Either way, for your young mind, that was all the explanation needed. It made you feel wanted, important, even if it was for evil reasons you couldn’t begin to wrap your head around.

You never saw the worst of it. Akiko requested that you remain in the barracks, where soldiers were capable of coming to you. She didn’t want you to have to see the things she did while in the infirmary. If she could keep you away from it, she would.

Your ability wasn’t as strong as your sister’s. You could heal only “minor” wounds. Severe cuts, fractured bones, such as that. Akiko, however, had the ability to “bring people from the verge of death”. You didn’t quite understand how impressive that was, you just knew that the adults found it very important. Especially Mori.

He was the reason you were here. You thought he was a kind man at first. He made you feel special, the way he had shown interest in you and your sister’s abilities. But then he took you out here where it was dark and cold, lonely and sad.

You’ve noticed that this darkness has begun to rub off on your sister. She used to be so happy and giggly. But now you’re lucky to get a small smile from her. 

Every time a soldier comes to see you, you hope it’s the last one. That you’ll never have to see another injured person again. That you and your sister will be able to go home. But as the months pass and nothing changes, the bright hope you had slowly begins to diminish into a sliver.

These days, you hardly ever see Akiko, her own responsibilities keeping her in the infirmary while you’re left on the other side of the army camp. The only thing that keeps you going is the friendship you’ve started to form with one of the soldiers. 

Shunzen. 

You smiled the first time you heard his name. Shunzen. Spring cicada. You loved cicadas. Their funny, beady eyes, their intricate wings, the beautiful buzzing noise they would make. They reminded you of home, safe and warm. Shunzen made you feel that way too. You thought the name was very fitting.

He always took the time to ask you how you were. The other soldiers didn’t ask that. They just came to see you, get their wounds healed, and up and leave the moment they were able. But Shunzen always stayed, if only for a few minutes. You liked that.

Sometimes, he would let you know that your sister was doing okay, having seen her only a day, sometimes mere hours before you. He did his best to keep the two of you informed on the other, knowing that you didn’t see each other very much anymore. 

Sometimes, during his longer stays, he would tell you about his life back home. About his job and friends and school. It made you feel comforted, hearing about the world outside of these cold metal walls.

“My little brother back home is about your age,” Shunzen says softly. You perk up at this. Little brother? He hasn’t mentioned him before.

“You have a brother?” You ask excitedly. A little brother, just like you’re a little sister! Shunzen laughs and nods.

“I do. He’ll be turning 7 in just a few weeks. He’s got big golden eyes and dark hair. And he’s stubborn. Just. Like. You,” he says, punctuating his last few words with some gentle pokes at your belly, making you laugh. 

“Haha he sounds funny,” you say.

“He is funny,” he says. There’s a look of sadness in his eyes, but it’s only there for a  moment before they light up once more. “When this is all over, I’ll take you home. You can meet him.” 

“Really?!” Shunzen nods, confirming that he meant his words.

“You two would get along great,” he says with a soft smile.

“But, Akiko has to come too, okay?” You add frantically, not wanting to forget your sister.

“Of course. I promise.”

Before you can say another word, your friend is being called for, dragged once more out onto the battlefield. Usually you felt sad when he had to leave, but right now, you feel happy, and a little more hopeful than you did before.

The weeks continue to go by, all blurring together into a meaningless stretch of misery. You’ve noticed that you’ve seen Akiko and Shunzen much less recently. In fact, you haven’t seen many soldiers at all. You once believed that would be a source of relief, but for some reason, it filled you with more dread.

You were happy when you heard that Shunzen was able to go home for a short time. He didn’t miss his little brother’s birthday as he feared he would. But it made you sad that you weren’t able to go with him. But he would reassure you, saying that once the war was over, that you and your sister would both be welcome to visit him. It gave you something to look forward to, to strive for.

You saw Shunzen much less, but he would often stay with you for longer periods of time now, talking about his visit with his family or reading a few poems from his book.

You sat beside him, resting against his arm as he read. He moves away for a moment to remove his jacket in favor of the white t-shirt underneath.

“What’s that around your neck?” You ask, noticing the large, flat piece of metal dangling from a chain and resting against his chest. He picks it up, lifting it over his head and gathering the necklace into his palm. 

“It’s my dog tag,” he says, holding out his hand to show you. You look closer to see his name engraved into it in fine characters. 

“A dog tag… why does it say your name?” You ask innocently. Shunzen pauses. 

“…It’s just a fancy necklace they give the soldiers,” he says, not looking you in the eyes. He flips over the piece, showing you the other side. 

There are several marks scratched into it, but they look different from the other side. They’re shallow and jagged, not as smooth and refined as the other side. You study the lines but you can’t make sense of it.

“Is it a secret code or something?” You ask.

“No,” Shunzen laughs. “See each of the individual lines?” He points to the thin, jagged marks cut into the metal. You nod. “Each of these lines represents a time you and your sister helped me. Every time either of you healed me, I made a scratch.”

Your eyes widen as they trail down the piece of metal. There were dozens of lines. Had you and Akiko really healed him that many times?

“It’s because of you two that I was able to see my little brother again,” he says softly. Your heart twists and you smile brightly. It was because of you that he was able to go home, to see the family that he talked about so much. You look back down at the metal in his hand.

“I want a dog tag,” you mutter quietly, more to yourself than to him. Shunzen looks at you, those words leaving the mouth of a child sending an unpleasant chill down his spine.

He turns from you, reaching for his jacket. He picks it up and wraps his hands around the buttons, the metal clasps melting into his hands, obeying his mental commands. 

You watch in interest as he holds the practically liquified metal in his hand, wrapping his fingers around it. His eyes close in concentration and you keep quiet as you watch.

After a short moment, he opens his hand to reveal a dog tag, chain and all, similar to his but much smaller. You beam from ear to ear. He hands it to you, but you’re almost afraid to touch it. Shunzen laughs lightly and takes it between his fingers before carefully placing it over your head, the tag dangling just over your chest.

You look down at it and notice another detail: your initials are printed over the front. You look up at Shunzen who is watching you happily. You throw your arms around him, tackling him in a sweet hug. 

“Thank you,” you whisper.

It’s been almost 3 weeks since you saw Shunzen last. It’s the longest stretch you’ve gone since he’d left to visit his family. And before that, you’re not sure you remember him being gone for so long. 

The number of soldiers you see daily has dwindled. You’ve seen Akiko three times in the past few weeks, and each time she was far too tired to hold any conversation with you, passing out before she even got to say hello.

Everything feels tense. It’s like the air itself was becoming harder to breathe. You had noticed that even Mori, who was usually uncaring and nonchalant, was much more uptight as of late. You wish you understood why. You wish someone would tell you. Just how bad was this war that was keeping you all here? How much longer would you all be expected to suffer?

You lean against your sister’s arm who is sitting beside you on your bed. It’s one of the rare times she’s been given a break. And an even rarer occurrence is that she didn’t fall asleep the moment she sat down. 

You run your fingers over the smooth, golden metal of the hair clip Shunzen made for her. A beautiful, large winged butterfly, reminiscent of those that appeared when she used her ability.

“It’s really pretty,” you say. Akiko hums in agreement before taking it from you gently and clipping it back in her hair. It suited her perfectly, the way the shiny gold contrasted against her dark hair.

“Your necklace is pretty too,” Akiko says, looking to the flat, reflective pendant around your neck. Your hand instinctually raises to your chest, your fingers wrapping gently around the cool metal, and you smile.

You rest your head against your sister’s shoulder once more, your eyes heavy. Things feel calm, almost normal for a moment and you practically forget where you are. Until you hear the startling clang of a door down the hall slamming shut, snapping you back to your dreary reality.

A shuddered sigh leaves Akiko’s lips and her tensed muscles soon relax again. She wraps her arms tightly around you and you hug her back, reveling in the warmth of your sister.

“I’m so tired, Akiko,” you whisper. “I want to go home.”

“I know, I do too,” she says, her hands rubbing your arms encouragingly. “We just have to finish things here. And then we’ll go home. And we’ll visit Shunzen and his family, like he said. It’ll be okay, just a little longer.”

And you believe her. Your eyes flit closed and you feel like you may actually get some good rest. But then the door flies open, revealing Mori behind it, and your moment of peace is quickly replaced by anxiety.

“Akiko, You’re needed in the infirmary,” the older man says coldly. You’ve begun to notice a feeling of unease anytime Mori is around you, like his very presence makes your body revolt.

“But, I just returned from there. Can’t I-“

“We don’t have time for relaxation,” Mori snaps, and the edge in his voice makes you curl closer to your sister. 

You can tell he’s tired. The circles beneath his eyes have only darkened in the previous days, and the kind, friendly smile he frequently wore when you first arrived has slowly disappeared. Honestly, every aspect of his friendliness has vanished. It only added to your further growing fear of him. 

“Our soldiers require a care that only you can provide. Now come along.” He leaves the room without another word, his abruptness leaving no room for argument. 

Akiko’s breath comes out in a heavy shudder, and you feel her shake beneath your hands. She moves to stand, tugging her arm gently away from you.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” She says, doing her best to put on an encouraging smile for you. And with that, she’s gone, leaving you once again alone in the cold, musty barracks. 

You fold your legs to your chest as you wrap your arms around them, pressing your face to your knees.

You miss Akiko. You miss Shunzen. You miss home, even if it was just you and your sister. You just want to leave, leave and never come back.

Little did you know how soon your wish would come true.

It’s been days since you saw Akiko last. Almost 2 months since you saw Shunzen. There were very few soldiers that came by now. You were told that, if they returned to the base, they were sent directly to Akiko. Very rarely now did they have injuries minor enough for you to handle.

You were laying on your bed, eyes squeezed shut as your fingers traced over the dog tag around your neck, trying to block out the loud rumbles and shakes that seem to have gotten louder over the last couple days.

You feel like you’re about to miraculously fall asleep when you hear a loud clang followed by an ear piercing scream. A scream you recognize.

It was Akiko.

You shot straight up in the bed, your heart rate rising. What was that? Was it a dream? The long silence that follows almost convinces you it was in your head. But then you hear several pairs of feet running down the hall. They shouldn’t be down here, not unless they were coming to see you. And the footsteps ran right past your closed door.

You jump for the door, heaving it open. You follow the sound of frantic, muffled voices. Your heart crawls into your throat and your stomach knots. Something isn’t right. Was that Akiko screaming?

Your slow walk shifts into a run as the voices grow louder, anger and fear heavy in the air. You come to a hatch in the floor where several soldiers are standing below. You almost fall down the stairs with how quickly you take them, the rusted hand bar biting into your palm.

You reach the bottom where your sister is sitting on her knees with her head in her hands. Your eyes drift to the dark mass laying crumpled in the floor, a rope swinging from the ceiling above it. The men stand around motionless, their speaking coming to a halt as soon as you enter the room, aside from a few, hushed words. 

“She shouldn’t be here. Neither of them should be.”

“This is so fucked up.”

“This is war, kids shouldn’t be here.”

“Akiko?” You call as you walk to your sister. But she doesn’t respond, doesn’t even give you the slightest hint of acknowledgment. You step closer, the knot in your stomach tightening. You try to keep your eyes on your sister, but your curiosity wins over as your gaze drifts back to the form on the floor. Your heart drops into your stomach.

“Shunzen?” You say, recognizing the face of your friend laying on the floor. 

At this, Akiko’s head snaps over to look at you, her eyes wild. She launches herself at you, pulling your face to her chest in an attempt to block your vision. But it was pointless.

Confusion begins to mix with your fear. Why was Shunzen here? Why wasn’t anyone helping him? You rip away from your sister’s arms, shoving her back harshly as you hop around her. If they weren’t going to help him then you would.

“Shunzen!” You drop to your knees beside him, your hands resting on his back to shake him. But he doesn’t answer. You use your ability, your hands glowing as your power seeps into him, though it changes nothing. Your sister sits beside you, a look you don’t recognize on her face.

“Akiko, help him!” You cry. Akiko shakes her head, the movement barely noticeable. “Please!”

Akiko winces at the crack in your voice, and she lays her hands down beside your own. Bright, glowing butterflies fill the air as she tries to revive him. Unknown to you, she’d already tried several times.

Upon realizing that Shunzen was still not moving, you begin to shake him again.

“Shunzen, wake up! Don’t leave us, please,” you cry pitifully. Akiko pries your hands away before wrapping her arms around you in a nearly suffocating grasp.

“You said you would take us home. You promised!” Akiko’s arms wrap impossibly tighter around you. You eventually give up and turn to her, your tears soaking into the front of her dress.

“He promised.”

The few days following were a blur. All you remember are the tears, the twisted pain in your heart, and the blank, emotionless gaze your sister began to develop.

Mori had grown colder toward you and Akiko. He still smiled often, but it was no longer the warm, friendly grin he wore when you first arrived. It was tight, emotionless, and didn’t do anything to cover the annoyance written all over his face.

He was upset. You knew he was. You and your sister’s productivity had dropped, and as punishment, he did his best to keep you separated. It didn’t have the effect he’d hoped and it only worsened your conditions. 

Akiko continued to do her job, but it was like she was on autopilot. She hardly spoke a word now, to Mori and even you.

You, on the other hand, were struggling.

You were still only capable of healing minor injuries, and they used to bring such soldiers to you, in the barracks. But now, Mori requested that you come to the infirmary. Right where Akiko had previously refused to allow you.

But now she wasn’t mentally strong enough to say no.

You went a few times and you slowly began to understand why Akiko was so adamant about you staying away.

The smell of blood hung thickly in the air and the constant groaning of pain would ring in your ears even hours after leaving the infirmary. Seeing soldiers injured beyond what you could repair was sad and sickening. It gave you feelings you didn’t have words for.

Between Shunzen’s death, not seeing Akiko, and being forced to visit the infirmary, it only took a few days before you shut down.

You had been given only a half-day's break, and you spent the entire time wrapped in your blanket on your bed with your hand grasping your dog tag so tightly it cut into your palm.

The pain in your heart quickly grew into anger and hatred. All of it aimed at Mori. He was the reason you were here. Why you and your sister were suffering.

You hear the metal door squeak open and you don’t have to look to know who it is.

“Y/n, sweetheart, we need you in the infirmary.” 

“I’m not going,” you say, still not bothering to lift your head. Mori steps closer to you, his presence suffocating, “I’m never using my ability again.” 

“You’ll have to eventually.” He spoke with such coldness, not a trace of emotion in his voice. You grit your teeth and turn your head to look at him. His expression falters for half a second, taken aback by the look in your eyes as you stare at him 

“No! I won’t. You’d have to kill me!”

You didn’t truly understand the weight of your words, let alone the fact that you wouldn’t be able to use your ability if they followed through with it. But Mori understood the severity of the meaning behind it. 

You meant what you said, even if you didn’t fully understand it yourself. You were not going to be using your ability anymore. 

Mori saw no use in having you there any longer, seeing you as nothing more than a liability. Another person to feed and keep alive. So you were sent back to the mainland. 

They brought you back, kicking and screaming. You didn’t want to leave Akiko. You couldn’t. The thought of her being there all alone made you cry and you couldn’t believe that they would be so evil to separate you. But you had no choice, there was nothing you could do. 

With your family gone, you were left with no one. You were sent to live with a family chosen by Mori, a connection he had through the mafia, in case you ever changed your mind and wanted to go back to work. 

You hated living there, despite the fact that they were generally nice people. They lived a luxurious life, free of worry or care and it made you sick. You were here being taken care of while your sister was still in the middle of a battlefield, alone and miserable. You didn’t feel like you deserved it. Akiko was the one who worked harder than you. She should be here too.

You soon came to realize that speaking of the war was an unspoken rule. Anytime you would mention someone or something relating to what you’d experienced, you were shut down. Even after the war ended, when things went back to “normal”, you were forbidden from speaking about it. 

Mori would come by occasionally, much to your horror. He still saw use in you, in your abilities. But you always refused. You wouldn’t work for him again, ever. 

You would ask about Akiko every time you saw him. Had she come back? Was she okay? Was she alive? He never answered your questions. You knew it was to torture you in hopes of you agreeing to do what he asked.

It was three years after the war ended when a man you didn’t recognize showed up at the door. Your “parents” had been hesitant to let him in, wondering what the repercussions of doing so would be. 

You weren’t going to get involved in the hushed conversation they were having. But then you heard him mention Akiko.

Before you knew it, you were skittering to the door, shoving the other two aside to see the man. His hair was silvery-gray, despite his young appearance and he had a soft yet stern expression on his face. The stoicism cracks when his grayish-blue eyes meet with yours, surprise flashing in them.

“You said something about Akiko,” you state, struggling to keep your composure. “Do you know where she is?” The man looks at you before glancing back at the couple standing aprehensivley behind you. You turn to look at them.

“Let me talk to him,” you request, though your tone sounds more like that of a demand. They give each other a look before shuffling away quietly, leaving the two of you alone.

You step outside next to the man, shutting the door behind you. You didn’t want them trying to listen in. They always did when Mori came to speak with you.

“My name is Yukichi Fukuzawa. I’m an old friend of Ougai Mori.”

You gasp softly and step away from him. Was this some new tactic Mori was trying? What torturous method to get you to come back with him was he trying now? 

Fukuzawa’s face softens and he takes a couple steps back of his own. 

“I understand your wariness, but I assure you, I’ve not come here to drag you away.”

“Then why are you here?” You ask, your voice snappier than intended, though he doesn't seem to mind.

“I had come here in hopes of finding Mori. I have something important to speak to him about. Do you know anything of his whereabouts?”

“I don’t know. They don’t tell me anything,” you say, your gaze dropping to the ground. The man doesn’t respond but studies you for a thoughtful moment. 

“You’re Y/n Yosano, correct?” You look back up at him and give him a curt nod. He lets out a quiet sigh, lifts his fingers to the bridge of his nose and curses under his breath. “The other child he’d dragged into that warzone.”

“You mentioned my sister. Do you know if… If she’s…” You can’t bring yourself to finish the question, but he understands despite that.

“She’s in a psychiatric facility,” he answers carefully. “She’s been there for a few years, but she’s alive.”

You feel sick and relieved all at once. She’s alive. But she’s been locked up, all alone, for years. For years, and Mori never let you see her once. Never even told you if she ever left that battlefield or not.

Your throat tightens and your face grows hot as you begin to cry. She’s alive.

Fukuzawa doesn’t comment on your tears. He doesn’t give you a look of pity. He doesn’t ask you to stop. He just lets you cry as he continues.

“I have reason to believe that Mori wants your sister back in his care. I plan to prevent that from happening.”

You had only been speaking to this man for a few minutes but you found yourself already trusting him.

He was kind. It wasn’t the type of kindness Mori had shown you when he’d found you and your sister, one rooted in greed and ulterior motives. This was genuine kindness, grown out of experience and concern. You had learned to tell the difference.

And if he was going to help your sister, then you wanted to go with him.

“Take me with you,” you find yourself saying as if your mouth had decided before your mind had. Fukuzawa’s eyebrows raise, but his expression remains otherwise blank. “Please?” 

His eyes drift to the window behind you and you turn to follow his gaze. You just barely catch the man and woman inside leaping away from the window, attempting, and failing, to not be caught in their snooping.

“He’s placed you with a nice family here,” Fukuzawa says. “Are you sure you want to leave?” You hold back an annoyed groan.

“They don’t actually care. They don’t like when I talk about it. They want to just pretend that it never happened.” Fukuzawa’s face droops, not needing you to explain what “it” is. “They only took me in because Mori ordered them to. They’d be relieved to see me gone.”

The man hums and closes his eyes. He’s silent for long enough that you worry he’s about to deny your request. Say you should stay in this home with the family that inhabits it, with the family that has stifled you for years, keeping you under their wing as they wait for the day you finally break and return to work with Mori.

But then Fukuzawa speaks.

“If that is what you desire, then fine. I’m sure your sister will be happy to see you.”

You wait impatiently in the halls of the hospital, waiting for Fukuzawa and Ranpo to return.

They had discovered that Mori indeed planned to retrieve Akiko from the facility. To drag her back into the hell she’d barely escaped from. But none of you were going to allow it.

Fukuzawa instructed you to stay here and wait for him or Ranpo to get you. That was over 30 minutes ago. You pace around anxiously in the room you’d decided to stay in, the chair in the corner having become increasingly more uncomfortable the longer you sat in it.

And then you hear it. Footsteps and the rhythmic squeak of a wheelchair. You walk to the door and stop when you hear your sister’s voice.

“Bring me back,” she mutters, her quiet voice carrying through the empty hall. You step out of the room, immediately finding Ranpo pushing a wheelchair with a girl sitting in it. Akiko.

Her hair was long, much longer than she’d ever preferred to keep it. Her skin was pale, evidence of how long it’s been since she’s seen the sun. She looked… sickly. But what she says next quickly drives away any thought you have on her appearance.

“I only make the lives of those around me less valuable.”

You grit your teeth and walk closer to the pair.

“Am I less valuable then?”

Akiko gasps softly at the sound of your voice. She slowly, hesitantly raises her head, her gaze eventually finding yours.

“Y/n…?”

“I’m here to bring you home,” you say, stepping closer until you’re standing in front of her. “Fukuzawa and Ranpo, they’re nice people. They want to help us.”

Akiko’s eyes drop back to her lap and it’s only then that you realize she hadn’t even smiled when she saw you.

“I can’t,” she whispers. “I shouldn’t be allowed to live.”

You feel something in your heart break as those words leave her lips. What had happened to her? All those times she kept you away from her work, what was going on? What had she seen? What had happened when you left?

You drop in front of her and wrap your arms around her, tears quickly forming and streaming down your face.

“Don’t say that!” You cry. Akiko remains limp in your arms, too weak to hug you back. Possibly too mentally, emotionally broken to even try.

“Please, Akiko. Don’t make me leave you again. I need my sister.” You pull away from her to look her in the eyes and her face twitches with the first sliver of emotion she’s shown since she’s seen you. 

Ranpo comes to stand beside you, telling her the same words he and Fukuzawa had told you. That they don’t need you. That they don’t need your special ability. They just wanted you because you care. Because you don’t view life the way Mori does. That this “Armed Detective Agency” was a place where you could just be. Just exist.

Ranpo concludes his words by placing something into Akiko’s lap. Her golden butterfly hair clip from Shunzen. You both gasp in shock and Akiko picks up the piece carefully as you reach for the dog tag you still keep around your neck.

You try to picture the man, but your time and trauma-worn memories are so distorted and you’re sure that the image you conjure is accurate. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

“We don’t want your special ability. It’s your kindness that means something,” Ranpo says gently. 

Akiko sniffles and as you look into your sister’s eyes, vacant yet so full of pain as they flood with tears, you’re reminded of the words you heard muttered so often.

War is no place for a child.

Taglist: @chuuminn

©Cxtori 2024 please do not copy, plagiarize, repost or translate any of my works. reblogs are appreciated 🤍

[motionlessonigiri]

Hi Sabezra community.

Am I an English speaker? No. That's why I apologize in advance for the crimes against the English language that I'm going to commit next. But I still hope you can understand me. I'm not even sure anyone will see this.

It's been a while since I came here to find people who love the same things as me. Like a refuge from the outside world. I planned to post something only when I had something interesting to share with you all, like a video edit or fanart. Things so we could have fun together.  The current circumstances didn't allow me to do anything for now, so I was just following things as a spectator.

Seeing all this ship war going on, made me feel like I wanted to get away from all social media, so I wouldn't see these things anymore.  I also felt scared to express my love for this ship too. I'm scared to post this now.

Even my mother noticed that something was bothering me.  She asked me several times what I had.  I didn't want to tell her, because she's also a Star Wars fan and I don't want her to know everything that's going on. I want her to continue watching our favorite shows without thinking about negative things.

I want to get the hell away from it all, but for once, I would like to post this to all the Sabezra shippers who are receiving free hate. I think you guys need some love after suffering so much hate and I need to get out how I'm feeling. Because that's all I can do for now.

This whole time, I saw your fanart, I saw your video edits and I read many of the beautiful fanfics you wrote (I confess that I haven't read them all yet, it's due to lack of time, but I loved everything I read).

I see everyone putting so much love into what they do. And I can't ask you to continue, because I myself don't know if I'll ever be able to post anything in the future. But to be honest, I don't want you to stop.  Am I being cowardly and selfish? Perhaps, but it's the truth.

But I'm here to remind you that not all Sabezra shippers are so active on social media, but we exist.

I've been a Star Wars fan for a few years and only watched Rebels during the pandemic. I started shipping Sabezra since then.

I was so happy that the Ahsoka series exists. And now I couldn't even watch Ahsoka or Rebels (I tend to rewatch the things I like many times). Because every time I try to watch it I'm reminded of this whole ship war that's going on.

So I decided to talk to a friend. He is also a Star Wars fan (and a fan of Rebels, which I recommended to him), but he doesn't follow things that happen on social media. We always talk about Star Wars, but we never talked about ships.  But today I asked him what he thought of Ezra and Sabine.

He is my childhood friend and we practically grew up together, so I thought: "If he sees Sabine and Ezra as just friends/siblings, just like he and I are, maybe I'm seeing too much in the interactions between Sabine and Ezra and and I should just stop shipping them." 

But to my surprise he also ships Sabezra. He said that you can see in the exchange of looks between them that there is something (In fact, my friend and I never look at each other the same way Sabine and Ezra look at each other). And he thinks Sabine is in love with Ezra.

The same case happens with my mother, who also loves Rebels and watches everything from SW since when she was young, but without following all the discussions that happen on the internet.  When we watched Ahsoka, she said she thought Sabine liked Ezra since Rebels.  She said this without me saying anything about shipping them.  And when I asked her if she thought it was wrong to ship them, she said no and said she thinks they will be together someday.  (I know, this may never happen, but hearing this from my mom warmed my little heart)

Even a friend of mine who isn't a fan, just watches casually, asked me if Sabine had a crush on Ezra.

Talking to these people from outside made me feel better, because this may not have been the intention of Dave and the others, but you can see that, based on common sense, no one can blame us for shipping them, it seems natural to many people. And not all Sabezra Shippers can be seen expressing this around.

I have nothing against anyone who ships wolfwren.  But I won't lie and say I wasn't sad that the cast supported it so openly, while we are accepting crumbs. I confess that at first I felt betrayed. I haven't shipped Sabezra for as long as many of you, but I feel like I have. But thinking clearly, I understand them. Besides thinking that they can to ship whatever they want, just like us, I see it as a way for them to show support for the LGBT community. It is to be expected that they will do this. And it's okay.

Needless to say, I'm just posting this to express what I was feeling, I have no intention of hurting anyone.  I am completely against any type of hate.

I don't regret watching Ahsoka, nor do I regret that the series existed.  But I'm sorry to have seen so much fighting and hatred for something that was made to make us all happy. I wish I had followed everything in ignorance, as well as my friend and my mother. I think I'll start seeing things that way from now on.

I had a lot more to say, but I still don't know how to express them in words and this was turning into a mile long post.  My first post and this was huge.  I'm sorry for this. I needed to get these things out because I want to sleep and focus on the more important things I have to do.

And I want to be able to enjoy watching Ahsoka and Rebels again without feeling sick out remembering all the discussion surrounding it.

For now, I want you to know that I've been loving all the Sabezra content you've been posting. What I want to say is that I'm here and that I will continue to ship Sabezra until the end. Even if you don't see me interacting here.

Maybe later I'll regret posting this. 

Maybe I'll delete it right away. 

Maybe I'll never come around here again. 

I don't know.

Too late. But everything is fine. 

At least now you know I'm here.

I love you all.

[alittlebitofeverythang]

So, the devs alluded to the fact that Maria had met Johnny before he kidnapped her so, this little thing I’m making will be a little series. Adding on to the last story I made about the day she was kidnapped, this is before he took when she supposedly met a handsome stranger. We also say she is slowly stalked by the stranger before he takes her.

⚠️ warning there is discrimination in this and some language and sexual advances. ⚠️

Jonny’s little Angel

His eyes scanned the room, though the bar was barely lit, Johnny still knew in the sea of faces, none of them were new. Same ol’ people he’d seen before. He’d be lyin’ if he said he wasn’t feeling a slight bit of annoyance in his chest. “Well ain’t that a real bitch.” He huffed under his breath bringing the bottle of beer up to his lips. The bottle and its contrasts had long lost its chill. The now warm liquid burned a bit as it rushed down. Something Johnny had come to be familiar with. He wetted his lips, setting the bottle down on the wooden table with a soft clink. A thought crossed his mind, a fight. That could itch that sweet spot that’s been unsatisfied for the past few days. However, the drive to start a fight left as soon as it came. Johnny sighed leaning back in the booth, his head angled upward to the light that hung above the table. He let out a breath. “Alright.” He said to aloud quietly, an agreement with himself to leave. Taking. A last swig of the bottle he got up, rolled his shoulders, and headed out the door.

The night was warm, not too much of a difference from the Texas heat during the day. His..well- Drayton’s white truck was parked just across the street, lights were far and few on the streets itself. A true and perfect setup for trouble of his making. Just as he inserted his keys I. The door his ear p kids up on something. A voice. Voices. An argument? “Please, I just need one night. Surely you can make an exception for me. I apologize, I know it’s really late but it’s just one night.” Johnny’s eyes roam to the hotel that sat to the right of the antique shop he parked in front of. The woman has a fairly thick accent. “Listen, lady, those rooms are for special guests coming tomorrow.” He couldn’t see the woman’s face but he could only imagine. “I understand that but, check out is at 10 am and you said that those guests won’t be here until 5pm tomorrow. This is also the only hotel open this late.” The woman reminded him politely. “I know what I told you, but I don’t want the likes of you here.” The woman went silent for a moment. Johnny began walking over in no rush really. This was the most interesting thing he’d seen all night. “Excuse me?” *her tone was no longer friendly, her fist clenched at her side. “Why would you refuse me? Two, what do you mean “the likes of me”? I have done nothing to you.”

Johnny approached with a charming smile before his ungloved calloused hands caressed her arm the woman gasped startled before whipping around to face him. “Hi darlin.” For a fleeting moment Johnny wondered how his touch felt to her. Did she like it? “Um, hello.” The woman was captivating to say the least. Pretty face, round hazel eyes, elegant hair that framed her face just right. Johnny’s eyes wander down, well equipped with the ballistics too. She frowned, his gaze not going unnoticed. “Can I help you?” She questioned apprehensively. Johnny chuckled, “sorry darlin’, I jus happen to notice you look stressed. This old man giving you trouble?” Johnny pointed to the guy with his thumb. “What’s the problem?” He asked. “This…” she looked at the man “culo arrogante, has a room that won’t be used until tomorrow afternoon but says he won’t let “someone like me” as he put it, in the room.” She shot him a nasty glare. Johnny’s eyes shifted to focus on the man. Bert. Johnny knew him well. Hotel rooms are his go to often on nights like this. “Now that ain’t no way to treat a lady now is it? Especially when it's mine.” The woman’s look of confusion was prevalent in her features. He winked at her. Bert’s face was beyond angry, steam was practically coming out of his ears. “That’s a load of bull-“ Johnny interrupted him slamming his hand in the glass, obstructing Bert’s view of the woman. “Oh Bert, are we really gonna have a problem? Cause…” Johnny’s voice went lower and quiet. A voice that threatened violence. “I can fix it.” Not a treat, a promise. The stare off didn’t happen for long before Bert began ringing up the room that Johnny gladly paid for. He relaxed and draped an arm around the woman’s shoulder. “Room 13.” Bert slid the key through the semi circle in the glass window. As Johnny began to walk with his arm still around her Bert grumbled. “You just go with any ol desperate bitch.” The woman stopped abruptly turning her head to face Bert about to say something, “Aht, you’d better not. You might make me do somethin’ I won’t regret. Johnny warned using his index finger to turn her head back forward. Her cheek was very soft. “What do you mean by that?” She questioned trying to pull away. Johnny’s grip tightened pulling her back before leaning down to whisper in her ear. “Darlin, ya gotta play the part to keep the room. Quite frankly, I’d beat the hell outa him if he disrespected you again.” Johnny wasn't totally honest, the truth was, he’d beat Bert just for trying to go up against him.

Room 13, Johnny had the keys in hand and unlocked the door swinging it open. “After you sweetheart,” he gestured to the room. She looked at him, her brows furrowed, “you don’t plan on coming in do you?” He locked eyes with her for a moment. Thinking. He considered doing a hit and run. All he had to do was charm the poor thing. “I didn’t catch ya name sweetie.” She seemed hesitant before a small smile graced her lips. “Maria.” The way she said her own name made his heart stutter. The name. It fit. “Maria” he repeated. “Well, Maria-“ Johnny leaned against the doorframe giving her a charming smile. “You can call me Johnny.” She gave him a small nod, her smile becoming more prevalent. “Nice to meet you Johnny. Thank you for helping me out.” Mercy, the way his name sounded on her lips was nothing short of a symphony. “Of course darlin’ I can't imagine bein’ out here all by your lonesome and bein’ treated like that. Not very kind.” He commented, she seems susceptible to suggestions. “So, Maria, ya gonna let me stay the night? You know, for insurance, and…maybe you’d be interested in…” Johnny met Maria’s hazel eyes again. “Jumpin’ some bones as they say.” Maria quirked an eyebrow, “I’m sorry, but no thanks. I happen to have a boyfriend who is the light of my life. Who is the only man I would choose.” Johnny went silent the smile fading. She said no? Who ever says no to Johnny? No woman has ever said no to Johnny. Why was she any different? Boyfriend or not? Hell, he’d been with a few scandals here and there. In that moment Johnny made a vow to himself and the angel in front of him. He’d have her. One day. Down how. Not sure when, but he’d make sure of it. “Alright, I respect that. You have a good night darlin’.” He tipped his hat. His calm words betraying the anger and intrigue that burned indie his chest. She gave him a polite nod. “Buenas noches.” She said before closing the door. Johnny pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with his zippo lighter. Soon Maria. Soon.

(I’m still working on learning how to make things hue and saturate. But I have the og and the other version.

[echoing--stars]

Hiiiii Woooooorm

So. Consider this. (I totally didn't get this idea from both me writing a kidnapping fic and you getting a kidnapping prompt for Link and Rowan) Link teaching Rowan some super basic but effective self-defense moves

this can be as fluffy or angsty as you want it to be, but personally I think they deserve a little awkward flirting mixed in between repetitions ;)

To make up for missing yesterday, this one got a little long!

Disclaimer - I do a poor job of explaining an actual self-defense move in this. I don't think anyone is going to try and do this after reading a snippet of a fanfic, but I still wanted to say that I did not explain it super accurately. I had a hard time finding a proper reference outside of the two second long video I have of me doing it at the one self defense class I've taken XD

And yes, it can work against someone much bigger and stronger than yourself!

It got long enough to put under a read more line and that I didn't want to bother with the indented formatting, apologies in advance

(If you read this and would like to request a short snippet, see this post!)

__

“Is this really necessary?”

Link looked up from where he was untying the laces on his boots. Rowan stood with his arms crossed, looking nervously around the empty training room. Link had ensured that they wouldn’t be bothered — it was the only way Rowan would have felt comfortable enough to come.

“I would feel more comfortable if I knew that you could defend yourself.”

Rowan sighed as his shoulders slumped. “We live in such a safe neighborhood though. There’s never been a problem at the bakery.”

The words were weak even to Link’s ears. It might be true that no one had ever broken into the bakery or otherwise threatened Rowan, but it had only been a few weeks since Link had been attacked on the street. The threat had been neutralized quickly with the help of a nearby guard and Link had only suffered a small cut on his arm. But after that, he couldn’t help but worry about what would happen if someone tried to go after Rowan.

“It’s always better to be prepared. The hope is that you’ll never have to use this but…”

“Just in case, I get it.”

This was a familiar conversation after the past few weeks, but Rowan had eventually relented. Link brought him to one of the buildings at the army base and led him to a room he knew wasn’t used that often.

The floor of the room was dirt and a crooked ring made up of a thick but ragged rope. There were a few benches around the ring for observers and various supplies along the walls.

Link finished removing his boots and socks and pulled off his tunic. No sense in getting it sweaty.

Rowan had followed his lead and removed his shoes and socks as well, but he kept his shirt on led. Link led him in a series of stretches to warm up and loosen their muscles.

Link walked Rowan through blocking and throwing a punch, how to disarm someone carrying a dagger, where to aim to stun someone.

“Remember, you don’t have to win, just buy enough time to get away or for someone else to come help.”

Rowan slowly gained confidence, at first not putting any strength behind his hits, too worried to hurt Link. Link encouraged and supported and poked at him in turn. Practice didn’t mean anything if you didn’t learn at full strength.

Rowan lashed out with a punch, and Link let it hit him. The impact stung. “That one actually hurt a bit!”

Rowan’s eyes widened and he took a step back, holding his hands up. “I’m sorry!”

“No, that’s a good thing! It means you’re getting more confident.”

Rowan did look convinced. “Okay, but it’s not like I’d have a chance against a skilled fighter. If we were actually fighting, I wouldn’t be any threat.”

Link sighed. There was some truth to that. Someone who’d — thankfully — never had to fight would have a hard time against someone who’d been fighting for years. “Remember, it’s not about winning, or knocking someone out. It’s about buying time.” Link tapped on his chin for a moment. “I have an idea. Turn around.”

Rowan hesitated for only a moment, but after Link gestured, he did as told. Link stepped forward until his chest was against Rowan’s back and reached up to wrap an arm around his throat. It was a bit awkward, considering that Rowan was a few inches taller than Link, but he was still able to hold his arm in place. He was careful not to put any actual pressure against Rowan’s throat, of course.

“What’s your first instinct if this happens?”

They were close enough that Link could feel Rowan’s chest rise and fall as he breathed.

“Grab your arm and try to pull it off?”

“Right, keep the pressure off your throat. Try.”

Rowan wrapped his hands around Link’s forearm. Link tensed his muscles, resisting Rowan’s pull. He put his other hand against Rowan’s shoulder. “Okay, the person is stronger than you, you can’t pull their arm off. In that case, make sure your feet are planted and stable. You’re going to lean forward, pulling me with you, and squat. As you stand back up, pop your hips back so your torso stays parallel to the ground. This should pull me onto your back.”

When Rowan didn’t move, Link nudged at his leg with his foot. “Come on, try. It helps if you move quickly.” Link wasn’t sure if that was true, but if it got Rowan moving, he would take it.

Finally, Rowan did as asked. His movements were a bit shaky, but he was able to pull Link onto his back. Link’s chin was at Rowan’s shoulder now, and Rowan’s hands were warm against his arm.

“Okay, this is where it gets fun. We’re going to do this again, but this time when you stand up from the squat, you’re going to lean your left shoulder — because I’m grabbing you with my left arm — towards the ground. Make sure you have a firm grip on my arm and use your grip to pull me forward. This will flip me over your shoulder so —”

“Link! I’m not throwing you over my shoulder!”

Rowan dropped his hands from Link’s arm and he slid off of Rowan’s back. Rowan spun around, eyes wide. “I don’t think I could even do that if I wanted to.”

Link took a step forward, holding a hand up in a placating gesture. “You can! Believe me, this is something that can work against attackers that are bigger and stronger than you.”

Rowan’s expression shifted and his lips twitched as he tried to hold back a smile. “You would know, right?”

Link snorted and rolled his eyes. “Calling me short, are you? How mature.” But he couldn’t hold back his own smile. Besides, he’d much rather have Rowan teasing him if it meant that he wasn’t worried about hurting Link while learning self-defense.

Rowan laughed. “Sorry, couldn’t help it.”

Link shook his head, still smiling. “Alright, fine. But I promise you will not hurt me. I’ve trained on both sides of this and know how to make myself land safely. The sandy floor helps too. And yes, this does work if the attacker is taller than you.”

“If you’re sure?”

“I am.”

“Let’s do this.”

Rowan turned around and Link wrapped his arm around Rowan’s throat again. He made sure that Rowan had a strong grip on his arm and then coached him through the movement again. They practiced this a few times until Rowan was confident enough to do the full move.

“Ready this time?” Link asked.

“As I’ll ever be.”

This time when Rowan squatted and then stood up, he yanked Link’s arm and tilted so Link rolled off his shoulder. He hit the ground back first, and his breath rushed out of his chest. Link blinked, and then Rowan was looking down at him, eyes wide with apparent panic.

“Are you okay? It seems like you hit the ground hard. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

Link drew in a deep breath before moving to sit up. Rowan moved around him until he could reach out a hand.

“I’m fine! That was amazing, Rowan, I knew you could do it!” Link smiled and took Rowan’s outstretched hand. Rowan pulled him up so fast that Link nearly fell against Rowan’s chest.

Rowan laughed and wrapped his arms around Link, pulling him into a tight hug. “I was worried you hit your head or something for a second.”

“I’m fine. And besides, I’ve had worse during training and while working with recruits.”

“That is not reassuring.”

Link grinned and pulled back enough so that he could look up at Rowan. “I don’t know, I think I turned out okay.”

Rowan moved a hand to Link’s cheek. “More than okay, I’d say.”

[acacia-may]

Hi if you're feeling in a mood to comment on some OC ships could you maybe talk about Nozel x Helena and Gabriel x Vanessa?

(the second one I'm still working on developing better, but after Erika's comment I'm determined on them getting a happy ending even years after Paper Hearts)

For platonic relations what about Yami and Finral?

Of course, Lola! Thank you so much for the ask! I would be delighted to ramble about your ships (though I know we have discussed a little before so I apologize in advance if I repeat myself a little bit here). 🥰

Nozel x Helena

I'm sure that you know already, but I absolutely adore this ship. There are a lot of good pairings out there for Nozel (both with canon characters and OCs) but I think I personally vibe with this dynamic for him the most. I think Helena and her sunny personality are just so good for him. The grumpy one x sunshine one trope is my sister's favorite ship dynamic of all time, so even though it's not always my thing, I think that's given me a real appreciation for it. Regardless, it just works so well in this case. Nozel is so serious and so uptight, and Helena is so warm and so kind. I love the fact that she is sunshiny but more reserved about it. In my personal interpretation of Nozel, I think I see him more as a person who would get kind overwhelmed by a big personality, so I love that Helena is just so sweet and gentle with her positivity and kindness. Her big heartedness and her ability to see the good in people is really admirable, and after getting to discuss your work with you and getting to read your post about your inspirations for "Paper Hearts," I came to love and appreciate her even more. (Also, her character design is absolutely gorgeous).

I love that Helena is not just there to be Nozel's love interest but also to encourage to turn over a new leaf and heal his relationships with his family (because, I'm sure it goes without saying, but that's my jam! Next thing I know I'm going to go all in for the dysfunctional Silva Bros too, okay? I'm just waiting for it to inevitably happen lol). Jokes aside though, as soon as I started reading your work, I knew that there was more to this story than just Nozel finding love, and I love that. I'm not the most romantic person, but I do appreciate when love stories are integrated into the bigger context of someone's life. Nozel has been through so much, and it really does warm my heart to think of him turning over this new leaf, being happy, and finding love someday. That said, I am just bonkers about this idea of combining all of that with him rebuilding his relationships with his siblings. JUST YES!! It's everything I ever wanted. I'm not if I've ever talked about this but my favorite Nozel x Canon Character pairing is probably Nozel x Dorothy for this exact reason. I like that she has this bond with Noelle, and we see her kind of encouraging Nozel and Noelle to repair their sibling bond, but I think it is more of a jump to combine the Silva Siblings bonding and the romance in that particular case, so when I found your "Paper Hearts" I'll admit I kind of went a little bit feral over it because those two things are so seamlessly and beautifully integrated together in Nozel and Helena's story. And when you shared with me that that was part of your plan and something you wanted for your work all along, it just all came together and made perfect sense for me. It's so compelling, and I think you've succeeded in that so well. I can't wait to see how everything plays out!

Needless to say, I am all in for this ship. I absolutely adore it, and it's probably my favorite ship for Nozel. I say this even as after I have already paired him off with Dorothy in my Future Problems next gen series, but there's totally a world (probably several worlds) where he marries Helena now. I need it to happen. I really need it. They're just so good!

(Bonus ramblings: I love the title of their story "Paper Hearts!" It's very clever given Helena's magic so I love it for that, but it always makes me think of one of my favorite songs "Paper Hearts" by The Vamps too).

Gabriel x Vanessa

I am so here for this pairing! It has really piqued my interest and is quickly becoming one of my favorite Vanessa ships. I think I mentioned before that I do like or am a least neutral to a lot of Vanessa pairings, but none of them really fit Vanessa's own admission about the kind of person she likes in the Assorted Questions Brigade in the manga, so I love that Gabriel really fits that for her. She deserves a man that's her type (at least in some universe).

I'm sure you also know that I just adore Gabriel as a character (and not just because I'm biased because I also have an OC named Gabriel. Though it is an awesome name, objectively! 😁). I love his relationship with his sister, Helena, and that he is strong while also being empathetic. Even though he is confident, I think he has such a kind heart, and I love that about him too. Gabs is really a sweetheart, and I think his more adventurous side and willingness to explore other points of view (i.e. not just doing things the way they've always been done to keep with traditions) would really endear him to Vanessa. I also really love the idea of them bantering with each other. That's really fun!

Plus, with Helena being so close to her brother and also so close to Vanessa as a friend, I think there could be some really fun interactions there with her (good-naturedly) teasing them a little about their feelings and relationship, and I eat that stuff up (honestly, I think most of my attempts to write romance involve someone's close friend or sibling making those kind of shipping jokes about them. It's a very fun concept to me).

Overall I'm just really excited to see them interact and how their relationship develops! I think it's going to be great!!💖

Yay! Platonic bonds too! Thank you for this! You're the best. I love when people let me ramble about my favorite friendships and family relationships. 🥰

Yami and Finral's Friendship

This friendship really warms my heart. It goes without saying that Finral has serious father issues, so the idea of him having this strong, male role model that believes in him really means a lot to me. I know that when we see them in the series, they're both in their twenties where Yami being older isn't as meaningful, but Yami let Finral onto his squad when he was a young, 15 year old boy who had never really had a father, and even if Yami wasn't intending to step into that paternal role and/or even if Finral saw him more as an older brother than a dad, the end result is the same. For the first time in Finral's life, there is this older male figure who he really looks up to and who believes in him. Yami gives him a chance, gives him the opportunity to join his squad, and sees something special in him and his supposedly "weak" magic that Finral has been told is useless his entire life. And you can really see throughout the series how much this means to Finral and how much it inspires him and allows him the chance to flourish and to learn to believe in himself too. (A/N: On a similar note, I love to imagine William and Langris have a similar bond with each other and that doesn't get talked about enough, so I wanted to do a quick shout of to it here).

I do love that they build this friendship with each other over time, and getting to see Finral kind of being "the responsible one" on the squad is really fun to me. As my sister and I often joked while binging the anime, it's a sad day when you realize that Finral is "the responsible one" out the Black Bulls, but it does make for some really great and really funny moments. Also, I have always had a major fascination with the early Black Bulls when the squad (at the least the members that were around) were just Yami, Finral, Vanessa, & Gordon. It's just such a fun dynamic, and I loved getting to write about their misadventures. ^^

[sparklingpax]

Hi! You know, I'm here to thank you. Thanks for the content and searching for a lot of details on Super-God Masterforce! Honestly, I consider it one of the best works on transformers, and it's very nice to see people who share a love for this anime. I hope someday it will be appreciated as a classic of transformers, as it deserves. And it seems that we are on the way to that. I want to say that there is another person on this planet Earth who loves Super-God Masterforce, and is not so alone in this! I hope this thought warms you up a little! (I apologize for the mistakes, I use a translator)

HI THERE UMMM

First, let me apologize profusely for the fact that I took.....way too long to finally answer this, but it was only because I wanted to wait until I had a moment to sit down and write a thoughtful response to this >//<’’

(Also don’t worry about the translator, your message is clear and all :3 I’m going to apologize in advance just in case I have any typos in my response, as I tend to get lost in my own writing quite often haha ^^’’)

Getting this ask genuinely made my day, you are the nicest human being waaa 😭💙💕✨ thank you so much!!! And I'm glad too that there's yet another person who likes Masterforce out there!! >w< Like, there's so few of us, but we are strong, and we are growing!!! hehe >:3 I will continue doing what I can to generate content for everyone to enjoy ^w^

OMG AND YEA!! MASTERFORCE IS INDEED A CLASSIC AND DESERVES SO MUCH MORE LOVE THAN IT GETS??? Lowkey I feel like a lot of tf fans just write it off as "the strange one with lots of humans" or deadass forget about/have no idea of its existence and I just??? Like it makes me so sad and even maybe juuuust a little irked ;w; literally people are out there acting like some tf characters came from the comics and not from this series for example.....*lies on the floor and sobs*

But I will hold onto hope that someday, more people come to appreciate this series and hold it in higher regard. It's got great writing, cool designs (and in the episodes where the animation was on-point, really good visuals), a banger OST (insert songs of course included~), great characters who mostly receive a lot of development throughout the series, really interesting concepts that I wish were used more often in TF media, and just....the vibe of the whole show is so good 😩💗👏 I have so much appreciation in general for all the installments of the Japanese branch of G1, but I feel like Masterforce was just the best mix of everything that can be seen in other series 😎

So anyways, even if I am slow with my art and writing and everything, I will probably never stop making content for Masterforce, writing random ramble-y things about details of the canon lore I think are cool!! And I am honored you found my account and enjoyed it as much!

Apologies once again for being so late with this (😳🙏) but thank you so much for this ask 🥺🥰

I've kept it in mind on days where my personal life has been going badly (which is a lot lately qwq) and I start feeling bad about a lot of things, including stuff regarding my social media/art/etc--at those times I reminded myself that there are people out there who get me when I talk about Masterforce--and I smile and feel a bit better.

So ye! Sorry this is a bit long!! Here's a little doodle I made, to hopefully make up for the wait ^^'' sorry it's a bit rough 😳 but, it's the whole Autobot gang (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)💙

Have a nice day/evening also!!! :D

-Kuni 💖

[tehuti88-art]

12/22/23: r/SketchDaily theme, "Tree Week: Free Draw Finale." (I did regular Free Draw Friday.)

This week's character from my anthro WWII storyline is Sergeant Major Champere. He's the leader of the French resistance forces. He's a good guy but has rather an attitude problem and can be difficult to deal with. There'll be more about him later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se.

Regarding his design, he went through the wringer in the Great War, so his ears are nicked and torn and he has a burn scar over his eye; his vision was impaired but not blinded. He wears an old kepi (yes, I finally learned the name of the hat Louis Dobermann wears).

TUMBLR EDIT: Champere dates to before the circa-2000 reboot, I believe, yet his character has never been significantly developed. All I really knew was I'm not quite sure of his rank--major or sergeant major?--or if he was even truly in the military, and that he's a jerk. Although he receives advance warning of the planned German attack on Trench Rat Headquarters, he refuses to get involved or warn them--he even orders Papillon to say nothing--until after the fact. It's Didrika's partisan forces who arrive first to help the beleaguered Rats, despite the Rats being on closer terms with the French partisans. And you can bet that Didrika gives Champere the tongue-lashing to end all tongue-lashings for it. And likely tosses a few curses and evil eyes at him while she's at it. (Even Boris, who can't stand the Trench Rats, considers it a dirty move.) AND although he belatedly sends his men to offer after-the-fact aid, he never apologizes or explains himself, so for quite a while, Trench Rat/French relations are severely strained; Papillon, deeply humiliated (as well as hurt--Drake Rat, with whom he's quite close, is captured in the attack), is left to try to patch things up between the two groups. Champere mellows out a bit as the series goes on, but never quite warms to the Americans.

I always just assumed Champere--that's likely not even his real name--was a snobby a-hole. His character has never been dropped from the story, though I've never paid much attention to him either, not being interested. As I chose him from my to-do drawing list and started brainstorming his appearance--he was going to have a mustache, but how do you do that and whiskers?--he finally, grudgingly opened up to me a tiny bit. But just a tiny bit. Many details, including his life history and his reason for distrusting the Trench Rats so much, are still unknown. I imagine they'll start emerging sometime soon, now that he's made it clear he's not just a boring snob.

I've long suspected shadiness on Champere's part. Sergeant Major or Major? He's named the first on the character list, but I swear someplace he was referred to as Major. Was he ever even really in the military? Because he's not leading a military unit now--yet still goes by a military rank. Is he some kind of fraud? Is it a Red Badge Of Courage situation and he just assumed command after mistakenly being perceived as a war hero? Is he crazy? From what little I know so far, it's all kind of complicated.

You notice I mentioned the Great War. Champere is indeed originally a military man. He has the wounds to prove it. He also has the bottomless hatred of Germans. I'm toying with him having encountered Captain Himmel, who also fought in the Great War--while underage--though it's unlikely as Himmel ran into Sergeant Camo Rat back then, and it just seems like too many coincidences, but who knows. He obviously had a rough time of it however, given his scars, so I imagine some of the hatred comes from that. He probably saw a lot of his fellows die miserable deaths in the trenches and it's left him not just bitter but nationalistic. Thus, he dislikes Americans as well, even though they're allied.

I suspect as well that Champere is a little...not all there. I think maybe a lot of his paranoid, erratic behavior can be chalked up to mental imbalance. He was likely a sergeant major in the Great War...now that he finds himself with a partisan unit behind enemy lines (HOW a group of "French partisans" came to be in Germany is never explained, same as all these groups of Allies fighting on German soil--this was based on my childhood misunderstandings of WWII and I haven't retconned any explanation for it yet), he's assumed the title of "Major" although everyone knows he's not one; they humor him, because even though he obviously has some screws loose, he's still a charismatic, intelligent, effective leader. His irrational distrust of others can be a liability sometimes--as it is with the attack on the Trench Rats--yet this incident is more of an exception than the rule, and his men decide it's worth the risk.

That being said, Champere avoids fighting except when absolutely necessary, and then when a victory is almost ensured. His group seems more invested in gathering intel and doing heavy work that doesn't involve direct combat. One major incident I know of where his men aid the Trench Rats is when they find an abandoned camp in the woods and need to handle the bodies; Didrika's guys for once aren't so helpful due to superstition, so Champere sends some of his guys to carry away the dead instead. (See Reseda's entry.) They also frequently trade with the Rats and Didrika's partisans. Again, I'm not sure why any of this is, why these guys are in Germany if it's not primarily to fight...

...

...Hm.

Uh. Anyway. That particular detail needs to percolate, and indeed, you just saw my brain hiccup with a tiny bit of an idea. It only JUST peeped into my head, and may be forgotten tomorrow...but as I said...percolation. Is that a word? Well, it is now.

I'm picking this up again after sleeping and WELP, indeed, more of Champere's story is coming out. Normally I'd start gushing it out here, but it's still heavily under development, is really weird and convoluted, either needs research or for me to make it up whole cloth (considering how much of it seems based on a mix of semi-religious psychotic delusion and actual supernatural experience), and to share it while it's so nascent would be a mistake. As a teaser, some of the stuff that's begun to emerge (which is all subject to change) is: A WWI battlefront vision, Turquoise and Nixie, the earliest days of Projekt Weltuntergang, the Thule Society, a secret pledge and a mission (maybe finally explaining why/how these French guys end up in Germany?), and Holy Roman Emperor Otto the Great. So...yeah. It's looking a tad bit wild at the moment.

Anyway. I mentioned that Champere does mellow out somewhat as the storyline goes on, though never completely. Despite his inaction re: the attack on Headquarters, the situation does wear on him; after an obviously aggrieved Papillon fills him in on the outcome, he doesn't bother to turn around and look him in the eye, and reiterates his decision, but then quietly adds, "I'm sorry for your loss," indicating that he knows about Papillon's and Drake's discreet relationship. He's fully committed to not intervening for whatever reason, he believes in all his heart that he's doing the necessary thing, yet he does feel guilt over the outcome. He's driven by impulses he can't explain yet believes he must follow for the greater good...a sign common to both mental illness and religion, which look like they're gearing up to be big themes in Champere's story. When Drake is finally liberated and Camo returns, Champere acts out of character in personally letting them know he's grateful that they're back. Drake is simply too worn out by his experience to harbor any anger; that's Camo's reaction. He feels intense spite over Champere's refusal to warn them, and doesn't accept his comments graciously. There's some difficulty convincing Camo to work with him to get everything wrapped up.

I'm not entirely sure what happens to Champere toward the end; given the turn the plot is taking, I assume he survives the war, and almost certainly plays a previously undisclosed role in Ultima Thule. If he's indeed still alive and it's not just a matter of him leaving info behind, then this means a likely collision with/culmination of events that were set in motion way back on the Western Front of WWI. Champere isn't COMPLETELY crazy. He just has a strange way of viewing and interpreting the things he's experiencing.

And that's where I guess I have to leave things for now; no point hashing it out yet when it's still so embryonic and highly subject to change. I'm not even sure if Champere survives the storyline or not, though he almost certainly plays a role in the outcome (i. e., the fall of Jäger's proposed Fourth Reich and the destruction of the Alpine Fortress). It's a conclusion that encompasses two wars and almost thirty years, so I imagine it'll need quite a bit of ironing out to see the light of day.

[Champere 2023 [‎Friday, ‎December ‎22, ‎2023, ‏‎3:00:23 AM]]

[lover-of-books-and-tea]

Holy shit holy shit HoLy sHit!!!!

I was so anxious as I started reading this chapter, I’m pretty sure I chewed my nails to mere nubs at this point. I was on the edge of my seat (well technically my bed but still) and eagerly devoured word after word, sentence after sentence until I reached the end.

I have never felt more engaged in a story like this in a long time and by god, it was so worth the wait. I was getting a little antsy about this series and my intrusive thoughts said “just spam message the writer and beg for more chapters” but I thankfully ignored them (I apologize in advance if I ever do that).

I’m so glad we got to see more of the reader and Spencer’s history, especially with the part taking place on Spencer’s (and mine) favorite holiday. I could practically picture his costume and the backstory he made for them was like something out of a novel, spoken like a true cosplayer I do say so myself 😆

The moments with Sebastian and Spencer just warmed my heart and I can only imagine how Spencer must have felt as he saw those pictures of little Seb hehe. I would probably cry upon seeing them too tbh, I also like Seb’s enthusiasm about everything. From the dinosaur toys to the little tea parties, it’s safe to say that your character of little Sebastian has totally won me over.

I’m eager to see who this mysterious Unsub is and how possibly connects with the reader and what his vendetta against Spencer is all about. I will also be sharing this story with some of my friends who are fellow Dr. Reid lovers (woo! Reid lovers unite! 😂) and eagerly awaiting to see what happens next.

Thank you for blessing us with your incredible work and storytelling, you write so well that I can picture the scenes in my head and hear the dialogue being spoken. Much love, appreciation, and support to you. 💖 Muchos besos for you hehehe 🤗

Careful - Chapter Four

(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader

Chapter Four: Last Hope

It’s just a spark but it’s enough to keep me going.

Summary:

The entire axis of your world is shifting.

Spencer is not the man you left alone all those years ago, and you don't know how to react to him being such a perfect, caring father. You also don't know how to react to the potential that you could be killed by someone who has already gutted five other women.

Luckily, Spencer is there to protect you. Another thing you don't fully know how to react to - but somehow, you just go with it.

Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. (Slight) Fluff and Angst.

Word Count: 8,800

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Detailed warnings and author's notes below.

Warnings: Again, basic warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing, the reader character is the next target of a serial killer; mentions of the reader wearing a sexy Halloween costume (during a flashback); mentions of gender roles - the reader doesn’t raise Sebastian with strict gender roles (and Spencer appreciates this); mentions of the reader giving birth (not graphic descriptions); some emotional tension between Spencer and the reader; angst because Spencer is upset about missing out on so much of Sebastian’s life; passing mention of abortion; the reader is threatened (in a graphic way) and called whore in a derogatory manner by the UnSub; Spencer is also threatened in a very graphic way by the UnSub; specific threats of stabbing and rape (toward the reader); passing mention of poop (because come on, this is a little kid, and kids talk about their poop a lot); I believe that’s it for this chapter.

A/N: So, this chapter starts off with a flashback rather than ending with one, because flashbacks are important to how information is revealed to the audience, and I think it works here. Idk what else to say about this chapter - I think it's a nice transition into the climax. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

...

Halloween. It was always a time when Spencer thrived the most - and he thrived even more when spending it with you. 

It was your second Halloween together as a couple, and Spencer loved that you enjoyed celebrating the holiday just as much as he did. You loved dressing up, you loved all of the spooky lore behind Halloween. And of course, you loved listening to all of the real life facts he had to tell you about Halloween’s history, and things like vampires, werewolves, zombies, and all of the Halloween traditions and how they evolved over time. 

You didn’t think before that learning about the origins of Halloween could make it even more fun, but Spencer somehow made it into the most exciting educational documentary of your life. 

This year, you had invited him to a house party that one of your work friends was hosting. It would be some light drinking, finger food, dancing to cheesy Halloween songs, and most likely sitting around and talking while roasting marshmallows around your friend’s backyard fire pit. It wouldn’t be anything big, but you expected it to be a really fun night. 

You showed up to Spencer’s place wearing a straight off the rack, generic ‘sexy witch’ costume. It consisted of a very wide brimmed pointy hat, dark make-up, and a tight corset drawing attention to your curves, as well as a short tulle skirt, flared sleeves, and black fishnets and black boots to top off the look. He found you irresistible and almost wanted to stay at home. But he was looking forward to the party; he was excited to meet your friends and he knew that the occasion meant a lot to you. 

He told you that he was planning on going as a young Ernest Hemmingway, and as much as you adored it, because it was a very Spencer thing to do - you knew that it was very unlikely that anybody else at the party would be able to identify his costume on sight, and that would probably disappoint him. He would be standing proudly, asking people to guess who he was, and they would come up blank because they weren’t in the same mindset as him. 

So you advised him of this, and encouraged him to steer his costume in a different direction. (And Spencer - trusting any advice you gave, simply let you lead him.) 

You took the late 1800s style clothing he had picked out for the occasion, and some of the makeup you had brought in your bag for potential touch-ups - and you convinced him to let you dress him up as a sexy vampire who had been turned in the late 1800s. 

You did his makeup - with some dark eyeliner, that he winced at the entire time, some dark eyeshadow, and some red lipstick smudged around his mouth to appear as though it were blood he had just siphoned from his latest victim. And the entire time you worked, he came up with an elaborate name and backstory for his vampire character. You delighted in listening to him tell you all about Frederic Henry - named after a Hemmingway character. A man who was shot in the military and assumed dead, but who was saved in the trenches of World War I by a vampire’s bite, and then lived on. 

You encouraged him to wear his shirt unbuttoned quite a bit, creating a deep V down to his chest that he wouldn’t have worn any other time. Thinking about his story, you even used the eyeliner to create the scar of a bullet wound on his chest, slightly hidden by his shirt - something to hint at Frederic’s tragic past. 

(Both you and Spencer got way too into it, but you were having fun.) 

You were running a bit late by the time you left Spencer’s apartment, but it was a casual house party, and you knew that nobody was going to call you out for being ‘late’. 

You parked a few blocks away, not wanting to drive through the neighborhood with so many kids out and about on foot. It was still early in the evening, and many kids were still out, knocking on doors, getting their candy. 

“They’re so cute, aren’t they?” You remarked as the two of you walked down the sidewalk, hand in hand with Spencer as you made your way toward the party among a sea of Trick or Treaters. 

“Kids in costumes? Or just kids in general?” Spencer replied with a chuckle, trying to clarify what you had said. 

(There was a hopeful edge in his voice, a daring longing in his eyes as he looked at the parents helping their children from house to house. Something deep inside of him that hoped the two of you could have your place here a few years from now.) 

“Kids in general are cute.” You shrugged. “But kids in their little costumes are so much cuter.” 

Spencer’s insides fluttered - seeing you light up with joy just talking about children, knowing that it might be in your future. Knowing that it might be a part of his future with you. 

“If we had a baby, would you wanna dress him up for Halloween?” Spencer asked. 

You wanted to fixate on the ‘if�� - to tell him that you thought it was something more certain in your future, with the way things were going. That you thought he would make an amazing father. That you wanted it to be a ‘when’. 

Instead, you chose a different part of his statement to pick at. 

“You sound awfully certain that our kid would be a boy.” You chuckled. “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who would be disappointed by having a girl.” 

That would be a dealbreaker for you. As amazing as Spencer was - he had to be just as good of a father to a daughter as he would be to a son in order to stay in the picture. 

“Goodness, no.” Spencer replied, shaking his head. 

He held back. He didn’t tell you that he had spent far too much time - hours on the plane rides back home, nights when he couldn’t sleep - thinking about his future with you. He imagined three kids. An oldest boy, and two girls, about a year or two apart each. A golden retriever, a house - he had even picked out which district he wanted to live in based on schools in the area and lowest crime rates. 

He knew it was stupid, but he had already been squirreling away money for a downpayment on that house. When you were ready, he wanted to be able to give you everything you could ever ask for. He had way too much time to fantasize, and he didn’t want to admit that to you now. 

“Just - it slipped out.” He chuckled. “I would be thrilled if we had a little girl. But - I pictured us having a boy.” 

In his mind’s eye, his daughter was so much like you. And if that came to pass, then he would be the luckiest man on earth. 

“You did?” You grinned at him, a distinct light in your eye. 

Spencer found his chest untightening as he breathed in relief. 

“Well, if he’s half as cute as you,” You said, moving a hand over to pinch one of his cheeks, which made him smile and let out a huff, half forming into a laugh. “Then I definitely wanna dress him up in a Halloween costume. Especially while he’s still little and cute and can’t argue about what I wanna dress him up as. Before he starts talking and wants to be that fuzzy guy from Star Wars.” 

“You mean Chewbacca?” Spencer asked, wondering which one you were talking about. 

“Yeah!” You said. “The big ugly one. The little teddy bear guys are cute, but the big one is kind of creepy.” 

“We had an all-day Star Wars marathon, and you didn’t tell me that you thought Chewbacca was creepy?” Spencer chuckled, his mind now distancing from the subject of the two of you having kids. 

“Yeah, because you were there to protect me!” You replied, your voice still filled with lightness and laughter. “And I didn’t even really realize it until after. I had this weird nightmare-” 

“You had nightmares about Chewbacca?” 

“One nightmare! It was only one!” 

The subject of children was forgotten, then. 

Your laughter echoed off into the night, and you didn’t think much of the conversation. 

Spencer remarked on it as a precious memory - as a sign that his savings account was an insurance policy for his future, not a fool’s errand. After the break-up, he thought about it over and over - he wondered where he had gone so wrong, how he had lost you. If you had felt so secure in your future together - how had he lost you?

… 

Spencer wasn’t sure how it was possible, but he was growing more and more love for Sebastian with each passing moment. 

After he got off the phone with Derek, he went back into the house to be mobbed by Sebastian. Having the boy run into his arms with so much excitement - it made him feel more heroic than anything he had done with the BAU for the past years of his life. So often, when he carted off a killer to jail or when he saw a victim returned to the arms of their family, he couldn’t feel the relief or the calm that JJ or Gideon spoke of. He just felt so empty. 

But having Sebastian hug him tight and ramble in his ear with excitement about all his plans for their afternoon - it made his chest swell with a grand importance that he had only gotten a taste of when he was with you. When he was making you happy. It felt like a moment that his whole life was leading up to. 

You asked Spencer if it was okay for you to go back to your office and get some work done while he occupied Sebastian, and he could think of nothing he wanted more - except maybe for you to join him, and to spend some true quality time with him and his son. But he hoped that would come later. And this in itself was progress - you trusting him to play with Sebastian, to spend time alone with him while you got your work done. 

Sebastian showed Spencer every single one of his toy dinosaurs, and they played with those for quite a while. They also had a tea party with some large bears and dolls present - and Spencer was delighted by the fact that you didn’t buy him gender specific toys. Knowing that this opened up different areas of play and imagination, and allowed for his development to be nurtured by gentleness and caring that young boys didn’t often get in a society so rigid about gender roles. 

Spencer really couldn’t imagine a better boy. You had raised such a beautiful, smart son. Someone who was polite, so caring, and gentle. 

Spencer was practically swollen with love, overwhelmed at getting to spend time with his son. 

His heart felt as though it might burst out of his chest and he knew that he looked fitful, actively holding back overwhelmed tears while Sebastian poured the imaginary tea for each member sitting around the small plastic table and they clinked their tiny plastic cups together in a toast. 

Then, Sebastian wanted to show Spencer a favorite movie of his. He rushed downstairs to put it on the TV, and as he was picking it out among the DVDs, he became distracted by something at the top of the shelf beside the TV. 

“My Halloween basket!” Sebastian said, pointing to an orange basket at the top of the shelf - one that did appear as though it was for Halloween, with a jack-o-lantern’s face painted on the front of it. 

“Mommy says treats are for after dinner. But… can we have one now?” The boy looked hopefully toward Spencer, knowing that he would be able to reach the basket and bring it down toward him. 

Spencer didn’t want to undermine your rules. You had done so well raising Sebastian this far, so you were clearly doing everything right. 

He crouched down to the boy’s level. 

“We should go ask your Mommy if it’s okay to have one.” He told Sebastian, who nodded, and then ran off toward your office with that thunderous urgency in his steps. 

He heard a distant ‘Mommy!’ - and a bang that could have been Sebastian’s version of a knock or him downright smacking the office door until it opened. But then he heard your voice murmuring and what must have been a frustrated sigh. 

Spencer felt slightly bad that he had sent Sebastian to interrupt your work, especially over something so small. But he didn’t want to lose progress with you and have you reaming him out for giving your son sugar without your permission. 

You soon came into the room and went straight for the candy bucket, lifting it off the shelf and bringing it down to Sebastian’s level so that he could choose one. 

“I know it seems cruel. But I didn’t want him eating it all on Halloween and puking, so he’s allowed to have one a day, usually as a treat after dinner.” You explained, clearly wanted to lay out your reasoning for Spencer. 

“No, no, it’s not cruel.” Spencer replied quickly. “It’s a good idea. Regulating his intake of sugar while not completely restricting it as something sacred or off-limits. It’s a good call.” 

Sebastian picked out a small packet of M&Ms, and then you went to lift the bucket away, and he spoke up. 

“Can I pick one for my friend Spencer, too?” He asked. 

“Yeah, go ahead.” You nodded, and then you added on: “Spencer’s favorite is Snickers.”

Of course, Spencer was floored that you remembered this. 

Sebastian picked out a mini Snickers and then excitedly thrust it in Spencer’s direction. 

“Aw, thanks buddy!” Spencer said, eagerly taking it with a grin, even reaching out to give him a high five while he smiled up at Spencer in return. 

(He was too busy looking at Sebastian with those stars in his eyes to notice the way you were watching the pair - watching all of your dreams unfold before you with an odd mixture of bitterness and affection swelling up inside of you.) 

Sebastian moved on to picking out the movie and you went to walk out of the room again, seemingly to get back to work, but Spencer stopped you. Something else was on his mind. 

“Y/N.” He called your name gently, and you turned back to him, your arms crossed stiffly. 

He was just glad that you didn’t seem so angry at him using your name this time. 

“Do - do you have any pictures of Sebastian in his Halloween costume?” He asked meekly, afraid that you would stamp out this request with more anger and defensiveness. 

“Why?” You gaped, seeming very confused that he would even ask this. 

“I - I just wanted to see.” Spencer replied. 

‘Because I missed out on so much of him.’ He hesitated to say. ‘I know it’s impossible, but I want those years back.’ 

The deep sadness lingering in Spencer’s eyes caused your stomach to clench. 

He had really changed. This wasn’t the same man who had been standing in the apartment that night. This wasn’t the same person who had been so callous and stubborn - the same person that you felt you needed to protect your unborn child from. 

Maybe this was the man you had fallen in love with, somehow rescued from the clutches of that person you didn’t know who had mocked you while wearing Spencer’s face. 

“Gimme a minute.” You told him. And then you leaned in close before you whispered something else. “And you should let him see you eat the Snickers, otherwise he’s gonna be insulted.” 

Spencer smiled at this. 

Sebastian waved him over then, and he asked which DVD Spencer would rather watch. Spencer ate the Snickers and thanked Sebastian for sharing his treats once again while the boy went through a very detailed explanation of the plot of the films so Spencer would have an informed choice. And then Spencer picked, and Sebastian moved to put the movie into the DVD player. 

This was when you came back with a thick envelope filled with pictures and handed them over to Spencer. 

“I had these printed a while ago.” You explained. “I was planning on making a scrapbook for my mom, for mother’s day. It’s… basically every important moment in Sebastian’s life.” 

“That’s my baby picture!” Sebastian said excitedly, looking over at the pictures in Spencer’s lap. “That’s when I was a baby, after I was born. I was one day old. Mommy said that everyone used to be one day old at some point, but that just sounds weird!”

Spencer’s throat clenched up with tears, and this clashed with the laughter he experienced from Sebastian’s comments. 

But as he looked through the pictures, he had a much harder time holding back his tears. 

Seeing all of the pictures, all of those moments - it slowly broke him. 

The first picture was one of Sebastian wrapped in a very clinical swaddling blanket when he was still so new and wrinkly, only hours after his birth. Spencer could imagine how small Sebastian would have been in his arms. The tiny little newborn sounds he would have made. Spencer wished that he could have held your hand through the birth, that he could have been there with both of you in the hospital during those first few days of his life. 

Then, a picture of you holding Sebastian in his nursery when you had brought him home from the hospital - a photo that was most likely taken by your mom. You had such a big, bright smile on your face. You looked so perfect with him in your arms. You were such a good mother. 

There were pictures of him when he was more alert - his big, curious eyes looking at the world for the first time; what appeared to be his first picnic out at the park when he was laying on his back on a soft blanket, taking in the world for the first time. Spencer could imagine how sweet his baby laughter would be - what it would have been like blowing raspberries on his soft belly and kissing you under the warm sun. 

He continued flipping through the photos - another one of what must have been his first Halloween. He was dressed up as a chubby round Jack-o-Lantern with his little fist in his mouth, drooling around it while your mother held him for the picture. 

And then - pictures of him walking experimentally while you held him by both of his hands; him sitting in front of a Christmas tree, opening an exciting Christmas toy that made him beam with a big smile. 

Pictures of important memories all throughout his life, all the way up until recently. This past Halloween, he had dressed up as Luke Skywalker. 

He liked Star Wars. 

“Um, can I use your bathroom?” Spencer choked out. 

He knew that he was crying very blatantly now. 

His chest was caving in as all of it truly hit him - how much of his son’s life he had missed. He didn’t wait for you to direct him because he knew that he had passed the bathroom coming down the hall. He abandoned the photos in the middle of the coffee table, haste to escape.  

Sebastian looked at him with sad eyes as he stormed out of the room. 

“Why is my friend Spencer sad?” He asked in a small voice, looking up at you. “He doesn’t like my pictures?” 

“No, honey, your pictures are beautiful.” You assured him, kneeling down by the table and gathering up the pictures. “It’s complicated…” You let out a huff, not knowing how to explain it to him. Not even knowing where to start. “It’s grown-up stuff, okay? Just - just watch your movie.” 

You stacked the photos back into the envelope, and you hoped that Sebastian wouldn’t follow you as you raced down the hall toward Spencer. You weren’t surprised to find the bathroom door closed. 

“Spence,” You called out his name as you knocked gently on the bathroom door. 

That gutted him even more. Spence. 

Another harsh reminder of the life he had lost. 

“I’m sorry.” He called back, his voice audibly drenched in tears. 

Your throat tightened up. 

This began to shift your entire axis. The man you had left standing alone that night - you thought he was a man who would have never cared about your son. Someone who would have asked you to get an abortion or distanced himself from the pregnancy as much as possible. 

But this man - this felt like the Spencer you knew, the one you fell in love with. 

He cared so much. 

This was someone who could fit into your life, someone who could help raise your son. 

And tugging right at your heart, something you wanted to deny - this was a man you wanted to be your husband, as well as the father of your child. 

“Spencer, please-” 

Spencer opened the door then, and upon instinct, you drew back, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. Unconsciously, you were protecting yourself. 

“I’m sorry.” He apologized again. “Did I scare him? I didn’t mean to.” He asked, looking behind your shoulder as if waiting for Sebastian to appear. 

There it was again - prioritizing your son above all else. Worry for him. 

Something you wouldn’t have expected. Something that forced you to shift your whole perspective. 

“He’s fine.” You told him. “He - he probably just wants you to watch the movie with him.” You said, entirely honest, motioning toward the living room - where the sound of Sebastian’s cartoon movie could be heard playing from the television. 

“I’ll be out in a minute.” Spencer noted, reaching for some toilet paper to wipe his eyes with. 

You squeezed your hands tighter around your arms, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. You wanted to wipe those tears away yourself. Spencer’s keen eye went right to this movement, and you felt so caught. 

“I should go start dinner.” You said, eager for an excuse to escape the situation. 

You whisked down the hall before Spencer could say anything else, and before his mind could linger too much on it - on you - his phone rang again. 

It was a number he didn’t recognize, but he had to guess that it was one of the phones from the local police station - someone from the team calling with an update about the case. 

“Reid here.” He answered, deeply hoping that he didn’t sound too tearful over the phone. 

“Do you like pretending, Doctor Reid?” 

That certainly wasn’t a voice he recognized. 

“Excuse me?” Spencer squeaked back, having no clue what this meant. 

“Do you like playing house, Doctor Reid?” 

The person on the other end posed a slightly different question. The voice was sharp and certain, completely devoid of genuine emotion. It caused a chill down Spencer’s spine, and he knew, somehow- 

The UnSub had gotten a hold of his phone number, and felt the need to taunt him by getting in contact with him. 

“Unlike you, I’m not playing.” Spencer growled in return, already having the profile in his pocket. “I don’t need to play house to fulfill some God complex. I fully intend to spend the rest of my life being there for my son, raising him. And as long as I am here, in this house, no harm will come to my son or the woman who raised him.” 

“Hmm…” The man seemed entirely bored with Spencer’s words. “The woman who raised him. Such a funny way to talk about that whore you supposedly once loved. But she did such a good job raising the boy, didn’t she? Seems like she didn’t even need you in the picture, did she? Such a sweet little thing… anybody could just waltz right into that house, slit her throat and take him. He’s smart enough to do well on his own now.” 

Spencer knew that it was a tactic intended to get to him, and he shouldn’t have let it emotionally affect him as much as it did - but fuck, it got to him. 

“Don’t talk about her that way.” He growled into the phone. “Don’t talk about them, that way, I swear to god, I’ll-” 

“You’ll do what, Doctor Reid?” The man cut him off, clearly mocking him. Clearly in disbelief that Spencer could ever truly be violent in response to his family being threatened. 

Spencer choked on a breath, trying to compose himself. 

“Now, now. Simmer now.” The man cooed, still mocking, entirely condescending. “And don’t you worry, Doctor. Every whore gets her time to be an angel. I’m sure that she’s going to look so beautiful when she’s moaning and writhing in pain while my knife plunges into her guts. Don’t worry, Daddy - I’ll treat her as gently as I can.” 

Spencer sucked in a breath, preparing to yell at the man, but then - the line went dead with a sharp ‘click’. Spencer pulled back his phone and looked at the display - he memorized the number so that he could give it to Garcia later, and then, he called JJ. 

“Reid, hey.” 

She sounded worried. 

Any rage pumping through him that the unknown man had triggered in him melted away, and he immediately wondered why JJ had taken on that sad, sullen tone. 

Before he could ask, she spoke up again. 

“We… were just wondering if we should call you.” 

“What’s wrong?” He asked. 

“The UnSub knows you’re in the house.” She announced, ripping the band-aid off all at once. 

Spencer wondered again how this was possible. But he figured that it was better to exchange information and let the questions naturally arise than to ask the questions himself. 

“Yeah, he just called me.” He told JJ. “Clearly with the intention to antagonize me.” 

“Wait, hold on.” JJ sighed. In the police station, she walked into the conference room where the team was working and put her phone on speaker for the room before she spoke to Spencer again. “Tell them what you just told me.” 

“Someone who I can only assume was the UnSub just called me.” Spencer explained. “It was very clear that he was trying to antagonize me. He - he seemed jealous that I’m here - that I’m trying to take his place as father in the household before he could get here.” 

“What makes you say that?” Hotch asked. 

“He claimed that I was ‘playing pretend’. He called me Daddy. He mocked my love for Y/N, and taunted me with the idea of him… potentially killing her.” Spencer found those last words particularly difficult to speak, but he knew that the team needed all the information at hand. 

“Let me guess, he called you from a blocked number?” Prentiss wondered aloud. 

“No, actually.” Spencer replied. “Do you have a pen? I can give you the number and you can have Garcia run it.” 

“Fire away.” Prentiss replied. 

“503-202-1052.” Spencer told her. 

“I’ll call Garcia now.” She said - on the other end, getting up from the table to call Garcia on her cell. 

“JJ said you guys have something too?” Spencer asked, still wondering what JJ had meant. 

“The scumbag sent us a letter.” Morgan answered. “The envelope was full of pictures. A bunch of pictures of your girl and the kid from weeks back - them at the park, at restaurants, at the grocery store. He’s way farther ahead in his timeline than we thought he was.” 

“Yeah, and there’s… something else.” Rossi sighed. “He also included pictures of you and JJ standing on the porch when you arrived at the house. And one of you coming back to the house later, by yourself. In one of them… he crossed your eyes out with a red marker. It’s clear that he sees you as competition. A clear threat to his fantasy.” 

“But - how does he know that I’m Sebastian’s real father?” Spencer wondered aloud. 

“Perhaps he only sees you as competition because you’re another male encroaching on his territory. Because you’ve spent prolonged time at the house, seemingly to protect her and the child.” Hotch theorized. 

“No…” Spencer said, putting the pieces together in his. “On the call, he said: ‘Such a funny way to talk about that whore you supposedly once loved.’” Spencer repeated it perfectly from memory, feeling a pang in his chest at calling you a ‘whore’, even if it wasn’t his own wording. “It was like he knew that me and Y/N dated before and broke up. Like he knows that Sebastian is a result of our previous relationship.” 

“That is… strange.” Rossi remarked. “Do you think that Y/N might have mentioned your relationship to a friend, or a neighbor? Maybe… she might have confided in somebody?” 

“It’s possible.” Spencer sighed. “But since she’s moved here, she’s surrounded herself with women. A female babysitter, fellow moms as her friend group.” It was something he had noticed in the more recent photos of Sebastian. “Our UnSub is a man - I don’t see her divulging those types of things to him, even if she didn’t know he was a potential threat.” 

“Well either way, he knows. And he’s pissed off.” Morgan sighed. “I mean, the wording of this letter… it makes sense why he seems so hostile toward Reid. It’s not just anger toward a random man who’s encroaching on his territory - it’s a personal rage towards someone he feels could actually ruin his chances with Y/N if he’s built up this fantasy of having her in his mind over these weeks.” 

Morgan picked up the letter and read some lines from it. “‘I will stab him in the spine, paralyzing him and forcing him to watch as I rape that whore - I will take her as my own while he pleads for mercy. I will show him what happens when weak men abandon their obligations. If Daddy wants to play, I’ll play too.’” 

“Is that really what he thinks?” Spencer huffed, unable to hold back his emotions. “That I abandoned my obligations? Does he really think that-?” 

“Reid.” Hotch said firmly, cutting off Spencer’s ranting. “Stay calm. What we really need to ask ourselves now is: how does he know so much about you? How does he know so much about your past that even we didn’t know?” 

He added this on - seemingly taking offense to the fact that most of the team didn’t know that Spencer had a serious girlfriend in the past. A relationship that had resulted in a child. 

Just then, Emily came back into the room. 

“Garcia said the phone number goes to a public library on the other side of town.” She announced. 

“Morgan, you and Prentiss go to the library - see if anyone there saw the UnSub or if they have any potential security footage of him.” Hotch ordered. 

“Reid, see if you can convince Y/N to come into protective custody.” Hotch added on, turning his attention to the man on the phone. “With the UnSub being further along in his timeline than we thought, and seemingly being provoked by your presence, we really need to protect her and her child. Stress that fact to her. We need to keep a close eye on her until we can find a viable suspect.” 

“Yes, of course.” Spencer replied, before ending the call. 

Spencer splashed some cold water on his face, truly trying to pull himself together before he exited the bathroom. 

It truly hit him, then. 

This day wasn’t about some soft, sappy reunion with you and his son. This day was about the fact that you had been targeted by a dangerous, deranged killer. And he needed to do everything in his power to protect you from that horrible man. 

A fresh, vicious wave of determination went through him - if he had to tear out the man’s throat with his teeth, then he would. He wasn’t going to let even the tiniest amount of harm come to you or his boy. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. 

He put on a smile, not wanting to potentially scare Sebastian with a frown or his trembling fear over what might happen. He tried his hardest to push all of it out of his mind for now as he walked down the hallway and back into the living room - where a musical cartoonish number was in full swing on the TV. 

“You were in the bathroom for a long time!” Sebastian commented brightly. “Did you have to go poop?” 

Spencer let out a laugh at this. This almost instantly lifted his mood - the fact that such a young kid didn’t have the sense of embarrassment or social constructs in order to know that it wasn’t really routine to ask someone what they had been doing in the bathroom. He easily found humor in Sebastian’s bluntness. 

“Seb, what did we say about asking people about their poop?” You called out from the kitchen, clearly having heard the conversation. 

(So this was a habit of his?) 

“Sorry!” Sebastian called back. Sebastian then turned back to Spencer. “Your poop is only your business. Unless you have to tell the doctor about your poops.” He assured Spencer, clearly repeating something that his mother had told him. 

Spencer nodded. “It’s all good, bud.” He said, smiling at Sebastian. “I’m gonna go talk to your mom, okay?” 

“Are you gonna watch the movie with me?” Sebastian asked. 

“I promise, I’ll watch whatever you want to later.” Spencer replied. 

He made it a promise because he wanted to hold himself to it - he wanted to spend lots of days watching films with his son. And playing games, and teaching him things. He promised himself that there would be lots of time to do these things with Sebastian in the future because nobody would interrupt that for him. 

But for now, he had to convince you to agree to protective custody so that the three of you could have the safety and security of a future together. 

Sebastian seemed content with this answer and turned back to the TV, and Spencer ventured into the kitchen, where you were preparing dinner. 

“Hey, Spence.��� You greeted him gently. “I’m assuming that you’re staying for dinner? It’s nothing fancy, just some pasta with cream sauce, and chicken and broccoli.” You explained, gesturing around to the many items you had surrounding you - a pot of boiling water, and cutting boards with different vegetables, and one sequestered off in the corner with cut-up chicken pieces waiting to be put in a frying pan that was still heating up. 

“Sounds good.” He easily agreed. “After dinner, we need to pack a bag for Sebastian, and you need to get some stuff together so that we can get you guys into protective custody.” He said, posing it more like a gentle suggestion than a question that you could say no to. 

He truly hoped that he wouldn’t have to go into the graphic details as to why you needed the protection - why it was more urgent now. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to resort to telling you about the man who had threatened to go poking around in your insides with a knife while making him watch. 

Not surprisingly, you completely ignored what Spencer said. 

“Unless you prefer Turtle Mac n Cheese?” You said, instantly deflecting away from the topic, holding up a box of mac n cheese that had some cartoonish characters on it. They were green and looked vaguely like anthropomorphic turtles. Spencer guessed that this was what you were making for Sebastian’s dinner - most likely along with having him eat some broccoli, because you seemed determined for him to at least somewhat eat healthy. “I think that cartoon shapes really give it that extra gourmet flare.” 

“Stop that.” Spencer demanded gently, taking the box out of your hands and placing it somewhere else on the counter. You frowned at him. “Stop acting like what’s happening isn’t a big deal. If you’re doing this because you’re frightened-” 

“I’m not frightened.” You said, cutting him off. “I just don’t think that the FBI needs to be wasting resources on me when there’s people out there who are actually in danger. Or people who have dead loved ones who need answers.” 

“Exactly.” Spencer pressed. He lowered his voice before he spoke his next words, though he knew it was unlikely that Sebastian would hear him over the movie playing on the TV. 

“The man who sent you those flowers has already killed five other women.” He stressed, pointing behind you, toward the vase with the white carnations in it. He was surprised that you hadn’t thrown the flowers away after what he and JJ had told you. “Five women’s families are waiting for answers about who killed them. And you could be helping us-” 

“I can’t help you, though.” You shrugged. “There are no men in my life. There’s nobody Spencer. There hasn’t been since I broke up with you.” You snapped, giving him a harsh glare - as though you resented him for ruining you, tainting your heart and leaving you broken. 

The realization shattered him a bit more. All this time, he had been worried that you had moved on, that you were living a better life without him. But you had been just as lonely as he was - aside from the company of a small child that reminded you more and more of Spencer every single day. 

Spencer took a breath, trying to focus. 

“Just come into protection.” He pressed. “The FBI will take you to a safehouse, and-” 

“A safehouse?” You scoffed. “How is that any safer than the house we’re currently standing in? Does it have bulletproof windows and a steel reinforced door? Or - or is it just a regular house with regular windows, and regular walls, and a regular door? Just like my house?” You chuckled sarcastically, moving to grab the cutting board with the chicken, shoving it into the now heated pan with the back of your knife. 

Spencer’s nerves were grated on by your sarcasm. 

“Dammit, Y/N!” He shouted, much louder than he intended to. “Can’t you see that I’m just trying to protect you?” 

“Yeah, and where the hell was that attitude four years ago when I begged you to-” You swiftly cut yourself off, the words dying off in your throat, not wanting to rip open old wounds. 

You tossed the items back onto the counter with a crash, only causing more tension in the air. You took in a sharp breath - suddenly, standing in front of the stove, you felt too hot. 

You reached for the edge of your hoodie without thinking, and peeled it up over your head. You were wearing a thin camisole underneath, but surprisingly, your black bra being so visible through the thin white fabric wasn’t the thing that caught Spencer’s eyes as more and more of you was revealed. 

There it was. 

The four-pointed star necklace that he had given to you on your birthday was sitting in the middle of your chest, right where it belonged, glaring at Spencer, taunting him. 

It became apparent to him in seconds that you had been wearing it all day. You had answered the door earlier that day wearing that pale blue hoodie, having no clue that Spencer would be on the other side. You had no reason to impress him, quite angered that he was even there in the first place, actually. So you had been wearing it under your hoodie since before then - since the beginning of the day, likely. 

You had been holding it close to your chest as something precious - hiding it under your clothes as a secret, just for yourself. 

If there was a single shred of doubt in Spencer’s mind that he had loved you more, that he had missed you more since the break-up, it was gone now. You hadn’t dated other men, and you had silently carried that symbol of him, as if unconsciously beaconing him back to you. 

When you finally got the fabric off your head, you instantly noticed him gaped-jawed and staring at your chest. You wouldn’t have called him a pervert, because before you even glanced down to confirm that you had the necklace on - you knew. A terrible guilt struck through your gut, like you had been caught stealing something, and you froze up on the spot. 

You and Spencer locked eyes for a moment, and his hands quivered with the terrible need to reach out and touch you - though in that moment, standing just across the kitchen from you, he felt a thousand miles away. He had a terrible need to hold you, yet he had never felt more distant from you. He had never felt more prohibited from touching you since the moment you had first grabbed his hand on that very first date. 

How long had you wanted him back and said nothing? How many days had you woken up thinking about him, knowingly raised his son alone, and made no effort to contact him? 

“I - I have to go change my clothes.” You said, your voice so utterly small. “Can you watch the stove?” 

You didn’t wait for a reply before you turned and whisked off again, clearly too eager to escape the tension. 

Spencer busied himself with watching over the food - stirring here and there, and starting the cartoon turtle mac and cheese based on its boxed instructions - trying desperately not to think about what all this meant. 

When you came back, you were wearing a simple, light tee shirt. And it was easy to see that you had taken off the necklace and put it away somewhere. 

… 

Having Spencer there for dinner felt like role-playing as a family. 

With Sebastian in his usual seat behind the dinosaur placemat, sitting between the two of you - it felt like something out of a strange, distant dream. He kept looking to Spencer for encouragement when he ate his broccoli and didn’t spill his juice, and Spencer stared at you across the table, having that constant fond look in his eye whenever he turned back to Sebastian or talked to him in that sweet, soothing voice. 

Spencer also watched you, and tried to make it seem subtle. You noticed his eyes drifting over to your plate, ensuring that you were eating, as he had done many times before. You wanted to make another snarky comment about him pretending to care, but you kept your mouth shut. 

It felt so shallow, and plastic, with the supposed threat hanging over your head; knowing that the only reason Spencer was there in the first place was because he believed that you were in danger. 

Yet, it felt like something you had been doing all your life. It felt like just another night. Like Spencer had come home from work to this a thousand times; like you would get up and do the dishes and kiss him and then bring him to your bed for the night. It felt like that’s how things should be. 

You really weren’t sure if you loved it or hated it. 

You were nearly finished with your food and Spencer’s dinner was half-done, food getting cold on his plate while he encouraged Sebastian to finish up - when there was a knock on the door. 

You expected it to be JJ again, pressing you about the protective custody thing. You let out a harsh sigh when Sebastian quickly wormed out of his chair and raced toward the door - eager to answer it himself. 

“Seb!” You called after him. “What have I told you about answering the door when Mommy isn’t there?” 

You raced after him and uncomfortably grabbed him up with a gut full of food, Spencer trailing behind you awkwardly. 

“You’re here now!” Sebastian argued, laughter in his voice. 

“Here, go with your-” 

You abruptly cut yourself off, stopping yourself from saying ‘go with your dad’. 

“Go back to the table with Spencer.” You told him, turning him around and directing him toward the man. You couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes, knowing that he could predict exactly what that verbal near-slip was. “I will answer the door.” 

“Come on, bud.” Spencer encouraged him. “If you finish up all your dinner, we can have a treat later,” 

He hated to promise something you hadn’t permissed, but he knew that you needed the distraction right now. 

You unlocked the door and opened it, fully expecting JJ to be standing there patiently (likely having heard that entire exchange from behind the door). You were surprised when nobody was there, and instead, your eyes drifted downwards to a large brown envelope sitting on the step. 

It didn’t seem to have any kind of shipping label on it - just your first name written on the front in bright red ink. It made you startlingly curious, at the same time, caused a tight knot to form in your gut. You picked it up, bringing it inside before you closed the door and locked it again. 

You brought it back to the kitchen and placed it on the kitchen island, and of course, this caught Spencer’s attention where he could see you from his place at the table. 

“Y/N, what is that?” He asked, unable to mask the frantic worry popping up in his voice. 

“I don’t know.” You said, feeling slightly haunted by it yourself. 

You moved to open the envelope, and before Spencer could stop you, something echoing in the back of his mind - chirps about potential poison or even a bomb - you had ripped it open and spilled the contents onto the counter. 

Your insides quaked when you saw what it was. 

Spencer rushed over to look at the items with you, and naturally, this drew Sebastian’s attention as well. 

“What is it, Mommy?” He asked, marching over and trying to get a peek over the edge of the counter, but not yet tall enough to see - which you were thankful for. 

“Did you finish all your dinner?” You asked, leaning over to look at him. 

“I did!” He said proudly, nodding. 

“Okay, then, why don’t you go into the pantry and pick a cookie?” You said, hoping that your sudden flood of worry and fear didn’t quake through your voice as you forced a smile for him. 

“Okay!” He cheered brightly. 

He ran off to the large cupboard beside the kitchen table, eager to pick between the varieties of cookies that you had there. 

(Again, he was smart - but easily distracted. That you were thankful for.) 

“Y/N-” Spencer gasped when he saw the items that had come out of the envelope. 

“I don’t wanna hear it.” You said, your voice now quivering with tears you found yourself unable to hold back. “I don’t wanna hear about how you were right.” 

You stared down at the items in horror. 

It was several photos of you; very voyeuristic shots of you going about your daily life. Several of them including Sebastian when you had been doing perfectly innocent things - going shopping, playing at the park. Even pictures of the two of you playing in your own backyard. A view of you getting dressed through your bedroom window. 

One of the photos - a photo of nothing more than the front door to your home - had a message scribbled across it in bright red marker. 

‘Daddy misses you. Be home soon. xoxo’  

“That’s not what I was going to say.” Spencer sighed. 

He saw how horribly you were shaking - he saw the tears brimming your eyes. This time, he truly couldn’t help himself. He stepped around the counter, and upon instinct, he swept you into a tight hug. 

Unconsciously, he caged you away from any potential danger with his arms around your shoulders - holding you like he would have when you had a nightmare or when you shied away from men you considered ‘creepy’ on the subway. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, your fingers digging into his back for comfort, clinging to him like you would have clung to a life raft at sea. 

You broke into sobs, the sound muffled by his chest, and Spencer’s own heart stung - knowing that the true depth of the danger had finally hit you. 

“It’s okay.” He told you. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

He rubbed a flat palm across your back, hoping to comfort you in some way, even though he knew that the terror of the whole situation was mounting - and it was a horrible thing to face. 

“Spencer-” You sobbed out, unsure what you even wanted to say. 

“I’m going to make sure it’s okay.” He said firmly. “You know I won’t let anyone hurt you, right?” 

It wasn’t even a question in your mind. The two of you had your problems back in the day, but you knew that Spencer would never let any harm come to you. 

You clung tighter to him, savoring the moments while Sebastian was still distracted - likely sneaking more than the singular cookie you had allotted him to have, not that you cared in the slightest right now. 

If there was anything else on your mind aside from the potentially crippling fear as the realization truly hit you, any room past the fact that you had been stalked and secretly surveilled by a murderer for weeks now; then you might have considered the fact that when you had woken up this morning, you never would have never thought that Spencer Reid, of all people, would be such a comforting touch to you. 

Oh, how things change. 

…

Spencer was hesitant to let you go from the hug. 

But he had to call the team, because this was an important break in the case. And he had to see what kinds of arrangements they could make for you - if they could find a safehouse for you on such short notice, or if he would be taking you to the field office or the police station. 

You cleaned the cookie crumbs off Sebastian and took him to the living room, trying to maintain some sense of calm while you turned on a random cartoon show on cable. He got out a puzzle and you helped him with it while Spencer stepped into the other room and dialed Morgan’s number. 

“Hey, Reid.” Morgan greeted him. “How’s married life treating you?” 

“Not funny.” Spencer replied, his voice short and frustrated. “The UnSub just delivered another package here. More photos. And a message. ‘Be home soon’. It’s pretty clear that he’s planning on making his move soon.” 

“Woah.” Morgan replied. “Well, if Y/N didn’t want protective custody before, then I’m assuming that scared her into complying.” 

“Yeah.” Reid agreed. “Where should I bring her?” 

“Hold on.” 

There were some voices clustered on the other end, and then, the next person to speak on the phone was Hotch. 

“Reid… you’re not going to like what I have to say.” 

“What is it?” Spencer prodded. 

“Morgan and Prentiss got nothing at the library. So far, the only thing we’ve got on this UnSub is the fact that Y/N is likely his next victim, and he doesn’t seem eager to break pattern just because you’re in the house.” 

Spencer didn’t like where this was going. 

“You’re not insisting-?” He asked, and Hotch filled in the blank for him. 

“Our only chance to catch him could be… catching him in the act. We could tie him to the other crimes if we catch him breaking into the house-” 

“The house that my son is currently in.” Spencer huffed. 

“We could bring the boy into protective custody. And leave Y/N there. We know that he never hurts the children, that’s not part of his MO.” Hotch offered meekly. 

“But he gets some kind of catharsis from playing house.” Spencer replied. “If we move Sebastian, that might cause him to break pattern, and he could just move onto another victim.” 

Then, something else occurred to Spencer. 

“Also, we don’t know how he’s surveilling us.” He added on. “If he sees where we’re moving Sebastian, he might go after him.” 

He considered that another woman - someone completely unsuspecting, someone unprepared, someone innocent with no way to defend herself - would be killed if Spencer made the wrong choice. It could be more than one woman if the UnSub got away and simply continued his patterns uninterrupted. 

This was more controlled. The UnSub seemed determined to confront Spencer. 

Spencer felt that was a confrontation he could win. 

“We can have unmarked cars posted on every block. And the minute he breaches the house, you call it in. He won’t get anywhere near them.” 

Spencer hated that it was their only choice. 

“Okay.”

...

A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the fourth part! I would really like to see 30 Comments - in the form of replies, comments on reblogs, and asks (anonymous or not), and 40 Reblogs before I post the next part.

I am really glad to know that everyone is enjoying this series, and I would love to hear more of what you think about it. In the next chapter, we answer the big question - what did Spencer do? What happened between Spencer and the reader that caused them to break up? So you guys can look forward to that!

Also, please keep in mind - I am not doing a taglist for this series, so please do not ask to be tagged in future parts. I do not do taglists. If you want to be notified when future parts of this fic are posted, you can follow this blog and turn on notifications here - I don't make personal posts on this blog, it is just pure posts of my fanfiction. Or you can subcribe on AO3 to get email notifications when this series is posted. You can also view the posting schedule on the series materlist and check @tenpintsof-sundrop for any information about possible changes to that schedule.

[talkintomytv]

Just a bunch of things I imagine Rodrigo De Souza doing between the end of Season 4 and the start of a hypothetical Season 5 for Mozart in the Jungle!

►Shortly after taking the job conducting the New York Symphony, he sent his pet bird, Egor back home to be released. Then, shortly after he was fired, he returned to Mexico and took a long, spiritual hike in the rainforest to visit his ol' pal Egor in the wild. Egor leaves him a new feather for his hair!

►While home, he conducts his old school's youth orchestra. Entering them into and even winning multiple big league competitions all over the world, conducting all those kids to great success! While also dealing with all his unchecked feelings over Maestro Rivera.

►Later, he spent the better half of a year in Japan making peace with the group of fanatics who thought the real Rodrigo died a long time ago and that he was just some imposter taking his place. He stays here just long enough for his hair to grow long again. He even let the group of fanatics cut it however they want before he goes. It looks pretty good! They're all on good terms now.

►One of his composer friends turned film director, made their directorial debut working on a black and white monster movie. They invited him to come star in the film. It was a huge success and even spun off into other films. He gave every last cent he made from the movies in large, unexpected deposits to both the NY and Mexico City youth orchestras.

►After this, he spent his time hopping from city to city sleeping wherever and busking until his fingers bled. Sometimes joining in with other buskers he happens on along the way. His music and reputation draw in large crowds. He lets whatever musicians he's joining in with keep all the money from the crowds he pulls. People in the audience start to film these random appearances of his on their phones and upload the performances to the internet. This is the only way all his NY Symphony pals can check in with him. He still hasn't got a phone and he's still all over the place so every time a new video of him shows up online everyone from the NY symphony is like "Oh, hey! We got a new one!" and they all watch together.

►Somewhere in New York, Hai Lai is taking blind auditions for a violin soloist for a piece she is putting together. No one seems to be doing the trick. Eventually, one player from behind the curtain draws her in like no other. Yep. This is definitely the one! They got the job on the spot. No question. The musician steps out from behind the curtain. It's Rodrigo! They will sort out all their old qualms with each other later. For now, they are just really happy to see each other again! Hailey never would have gone this long without talking to him but shortly after he was fired he was gone and he's not exactly the easiest guy to get ahold of.

There we go Prime Video. I've set it all up for you. I'd gladly pay for a whole year's worth of Prime just to have the opportunity to binge-watch a fifth season of Mozart in the Jungle in a single day.

[ooffies]

› 〉 ◛ ⁀➷ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ'ᴅ ʙᴇ ᴀꜱ ʜᴜꜱʙᴀɴᴅꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴀᴅꜱ

❥─➤ Jamil, Floyd and Rook (separate) x gn!reader

 a/n: I did something like this for genshin awhile back and had a lot of fun with it so why not do it for twst characters. This will be a multi part series, each set of three characters will have a theme for the mini-fics. For this one the theme is bedtime/sleeping. I hope you enjoy them <3 (and also sorry if there are several grammatical errors ssjjsghs)

❥─➤ warnings: mentions of pregnancy (any mention also has /adoption or adopted to make it more open for however you want it to be), google translate French (I apologize to any French speakers who read this in advance)

°----°

╰─➤  Jamil | 

❥ They’re like mini Kalims, he is constantly worried about them and glued to their sides

❥ He’s already getting gray hair from these little rascals

❥ But he loves them with all his heart

❥ Will scold them and lecture them on how to behave when they do something stupid. But then will make them their favorite food for dinner

❥ Whenever he’s not attending Kalim’s side he’s with you and the kids. Being at home with you guys is the only place he wants to be after a tiring day of work.

❥ He’s very affectionate towards them but it’s subtle. He’ll hold them or their hand when asked/needed, hug them, tuck them into bed, cook for them, help them with their homework, etc without a complaint. He won’t outright dote on them though like call them his precious babies and constantly cover their faces in kisses.

❥ Jamil is a fantastic and very devoted husband. You’re the love of his life and he reminds you of that every day

❥ If you couldn’t tell already Jamil shows affection through acts of service, that’s how he mainly shows his affection towards you and the kids

❥ But when it comes to you he’ll give you both physical affection (especially in public and around others cause he’s a tad bit possessive due to his jealousy) and words of affirmation. Don’t forget to do the same for him! Give him all your love and affection, he deserves it

❥ A male wife. Will insist on doing chores or at least cooking dinner when he gets home, even if he’s been working all day. Some days much to his dismay you force him to relax and not do anything to help out around the house. The kids will come and bother him instead.

❥ When the family goes on evening walks through the city or trips to the market his arm is always wrapped around your waist, holding you close to him while he’s fretting over the kids

❥ He’s a bedtime story dad. The kids will force themselves to stay up and wait till he gets home just so they can listen to him read a bed story. He’s fantastic at it, it was something new you learned about him after having/adopting your kids. You often find yourself listening in

The warm light of the oil lamp radiates from the dark walls of the room. The window acts as a portal for the stars to shine their light on the bohemian rug that blankets the floor of your and your husband's room. The whole family is on top of the soft and wrinkled blankets piled on the bed. The kids rest on his lap while your head rests in the crook of his neck, your arms wrapped around his waist from behind. Your husband spins a tale of a boy, a diamond in the rough, and his adventures. One of his hands rests on your thigh, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on it. His other ones hold his children, occasionally running his fingers through their hair. Although deeply intrigued by the story, his soft voice lulls both you and the kids closer to a deep and happy slumber.  “Know this. Only one may enter here. One who lies far within. The diamond in the rough……. Ah…..” his story comes to stop as he hears the soft snores of your children, “Now that they're passed out, I say we get some sleep as well love,” he says. Your response by giving him a soft “mhm”. Nuzzling your head deeper into the crook of his neck, taking in his scent while listening to him now mumble about how he has to find a way to move the kids off his lap without waking them. You then stop his light blabbering by pressing a kiss to lips, “Just let them sleep here tonight Jamil…… I like it when we’re all together like this…”. “Alright then,” he said taking his hand off your thigh, using it to hold your face ever so gently. You lean into his touch, eyes, and words heavy with sleep, “I love you Jamil.” His eyes widen slightly, shocked from the sudden declaration of love. But only seconds after his smile returns, “I love you more,” he says as he presses his forehead to yours, “Just give me one more kiss love, and then we’ll sleep.”

╰─➤  Floyd | 

❥ Oh boy

❥ Prepare for trouble and make it double, your child is just as chaotic as their father

❥ Dealing with them can be quite stressful but they often occupy each other with their chaos

❥ Floyd is either a great terrible father or a great one, there is no in-between

❥ The type of dad that asks his kid if they won if they got into a fight at school, so in other words, he encourages some not great habits and whatnot

❥ he would be the one to grab his child by the fin/feet and just hold them in the air like “behold”

❥ But following off of that in the opposing point, he is a very, and I mean VERY, supportive dad (and husband). He always has both you and your kids back, no matter what.

❥ A very doting dad and husband if you couldn’t already tell, his love languages are physical affection and words of affirmation

❥ Calls your kid an array of nicknames. He has his sea nicknames for the kid like “sea monkey or sea rabbit”, “kelp brain”, “(little) krill/krilly'' and “little elver/eel”. He’s also probably given you some more “lovey-dovey” sea creature nicknames like

❥ “My sea-star”, “pearl” and “pufferfish” (for when you’re mad at him)

❥ But his other dad-sona (???) is that he’s a bbq dad. Due to this other nicknames, he uses for his child are “kiddo”, “champ” and “junior”.

❥ You never expected Floyd to become a grill dad, no one did. But the day that man discovered what a grill was and that he could use it……. He just couldn't get slimy Lil hands off it.

❥ He just now has to smoke them meats, he loves his partner but a man just gotta grill. He becomes a different man when it’s just him and his grill

❥ He is now the king of hosting potlucks and bbq get-togethers

❥ One time Jade wanted him to grill mushrooms but he refused to so they argued and had almost burned the house down once cause they knocked over the BBQ during one of these fights

❥ Now Jade is just banned from them, he can come as long as he brings his own mushrooms dishes to eat

❥ He owns one of those shitty kiss the cook aprons and uses it to embarrass you. Trying to get you to kiss him whenever he can. You can do your best to act like you don’t know him but it won’t keep him away

❥ Beach trips are a family tradition for y’all. Every weekend your family goes down to the beach for the whole day. Sometimes camping there if y’all are feeling it.

The car's engine made a low hum in the vast night, passing by the dark beaches at a steady velocity. The two sounds mixed to make a clashing yet calming melody. This lullaby of the night had put your little one to sleep after a whole day by the sea with you and Floyd. Every now and then your eyes would drift from the road to the rearview mirror to check on them, making sure they were still sound asleep. Your husband, who had just been fussing over them by making his jacket act as a blanket so his baby wouldn't be cold, was now completely silent (which was quite rare). His eyes fixed on the ocean, the sea of blue hues your family enjoyed the day in was now a dark and nebulous void under the night’s dim starlight. He looked deep in thought, which was rare for him. His eyes slightly glazed over, his fingers tapping against his leg in a repeated rhythm. You wondered what he was thinking about, what was going through his brain at this exact moment in time. When you first met Floyd at Night Raven, you could never tell what he was thinking. It was a mystery, a beguiling oddity that no matter how hard you searched, you could never find the answer. Even after marrying him, even after having/adopting your kiddo with him, you could never read him. You take one of your hands off the wheel and place it over his. But it was fine that you never knew what was going through his head because he would always tell you. He blinks out of his daze, looking at your hand and then looking at you, his dopey gaze returning to his face. Floyd would always let you know how he was feeling, what he wanted… And how much he loves you. “Is something up seastar?” His hand clasps over yours now, his thumb running up down the back of your hand. The honesty and loyalty Floyd showed you made you feel special, the care for you and your baby makes your heart swell. Fond memories flood your mind. Memories of family hug piles, of him and the kiddo play fighting on the lawn of your home, of date nights that end with you being held closely in his loving arms. But most importantly, memories of these beach days, when it’s just you, him, and your guy’s precious kiddo. These memories sparkled like sea glass in the sand, each one just as gorgeous as the last. “Oh nothing much,” you replied, feeling your lips curve up into a soft smile, “Just thinking about how much I love you.”

╰─➤  Rook | 

❥ He’s a fantastic dad but he is also absolutely terrifying

❥ He’s able to match bébés précoce high-speed energy precisely and exactly

❥ His kids absolutely adore him even though they don’t understand what he’s saying half of the time

❥ Like Floyd, he encourages both good and not great but draws more of a fine line between the two.  

❥ The type of dad who interrogates and tests the teacher “nicely” during parent teacher conferences and scares them shitless. Don’t blame him, he just wants to make sure his kids have a good teacher

❥ Your guy's kid’s friends are either terrified of him or they love him. There's no in-between.

❥ Reads Shakespear or very complex poetry for the kids' bedtime stories. Some Days they like it and others they refuse to let him read and make you do it instead

❥ Rook is a fantastic husband and I mean it. Always there when either you or the kids need him. He keeps up a bright and uplifting mood when things are bad and heavily dotes on all of his family

❥ He is very very very affectionate, both physically and verbally. From peppering his kid's faces in kisses when they get home from school to showering his kids with compliments when they do personally well on a quiz/ test.

❥ I feel like he’s the type of dad who doesn’t care too much about grades cause all he wants is for his children to learn. Like they’ll get a C on a topic they’ve been struggling on and he’ll be over the moon with joy for them

❥ “Fantastique travail mon petit! I’m so proud of you.”

❥ He’s an outdoorsman dad so expect a lot of family outings. Fishing trips, camping trips, hiking, etc. He wants his kids to experience the world's beauty and wonders at a young age and throughout their life

❥ Even if it’s just an evening walk in the park after the kids are done with school, he just wants to be outdoors with his family

The smell of the fresh outdoors and smoke intermingled in the night air. The fire crackled and popped as it danced under the moon, its warmth finding its way to you. That wasn’t the only thing keeping you warm on this cold night, the family cuddle pile was quite a good source of heat too. You had been sandwiched in the middle of your exhausted kids and husband (Although is Rook ever exhausted?). You rested between Rook’s legs, your back touching his chest and his arms wrapped around your waist. your little ones were bundled up in your arms with their head resting on your chest. The sounds of nature and their parent's hushed chatting voices had lulled them to sleep. You brushed your hands through their hair gently so as not to wake them. A fond smile made its way across as you looked at their adorable sleeping, the fact they looked so at ease made you feel the same. Your husband watched you with keen eyes, his head rested on your shoulder and wearing a found smile from watching you care for your two’s babies. You looked over at your husband, eyes softening at the sight of his smile. You placed a soft kiss to his temple before saying in a murmured voice, “ So Monsieur, what will the Hunt family’s exciting, new, and adventure-packed excursion be tomorrow?” He laughs at your light-hearted over-exaggeration, “Eh Bien mon amour, I was thinking we would just spend the day at the beach since the les petits are quite exhausted from today’s hiking trip,” His hand mimics the same action as yours, gently running his fingers through one of the kid’s hair, “I wouldn’t want to wear them out and make it so they’re not enjoying this trip, no?” “That sounds great Rook,” you pause, mind suddenly in deep thought and your eyes now unconsciously fixated on the glowing campfire.  Your silence makes Rook give you a confused look, “Is something the matter mon cheri*?” Your eyes focus on the fire for a little while longer before looking at him. You take a strand of his hair and tuck it behind his ear, “No nothing wrong, I’m just so happy to be married to you and you can call me yours. I love you, Rook. Thank you for putting so much time and love into our family.” Your words make him smile. He brings his hand out to cup your face, his fingers soft to touch. He pulls you in and murmurs ever-so quietly, “Qu'ai-je fait pour te mériter, mon beau cœur?” His lips touch yours, interlocking perfectly, as if they were made for eachother.

“What did I do to deserve you, my lovely heart?”

© ooffies 

Please do not repost or translate my work without permission and credit. Thank you.

All pictures in the banners belong to Disney

Tagging @peachmilkandstubbornbees (thank u sm for all the help) & @ho-tdogwater

[havecourage-darling]

Right Side Up // 1

Princess Peach Series

|| Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter two: If I only could >>

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female Henderson!Reader

wc: ~5.8k

warnings: cursing, mild smut, S4 spoilers, angst with a happy ending

A/N: Hello everyone! So, here she iiiiis - I've had a lot of people ask if I'd be writing a S4 follow along and ta-da! (There should be 6 chapters total.) I'm keeping it in the Princess Peach world, meaning the reader is a Henderson. If you have not read any of the other installments in this series, I personally think you'd still enjoy this but you might be a little confused. Being totally up front, this is absolutely a fix-it fic, Eddie did not die and I have no idea what you're talking about canon, okay cool. Now that we're all on the same paaage...

Chapter One: If I only could

“Are you the prettiest baby in the whole world?” You asked the wide brown-eyed stare focused on you. “Who’s the bestest boy? Oh, yes, it’s you!”

“If you keep that up, I’m going to get jealous,” Eddie said from his trailer door. You ignored him and Frank – Eddie’s neighbor’s dog who stayed over occasionally – went belly up. His muzzle was now littered with white hair but his waggling tail and endearingly excited pants made your heart melt.

“Oh, you’re so handsome, what a good boy,” you cooed, fingers scratching at his pink stomach. One of his little legs twitched happily as your nails caught the right spot.

Eddie’s mouth twisted into something achingly familiar and his eyes glinted. “That’s what you say to me when you lick my-”

“Edward!”

A flash of your events this morning crossed your mind and Eddie smirked. “And I’m the pervert?” He said knowingly.

You shot him a glare, one that he knew you meant: behave.

Eddie’s laughter floated over to you and you rolled your eyes, pulling Frank into your lap. You laid down, sprawled onto a blanket that you kept in Eddie’s van, and bathed in the first warm sunny day in a while. The wind still had a bite to it at night but the afternoon sun was just enough to lull you into a nap.

“So,” Eddie said, settling down next to you, with two glasses of water. You gratefully took one and drank half in one go. “Spring break is soon.”

And it couldn’t come soon enough. You’d been swamped with papers and last-minute homework assignments for the entire week. Submitting your last paper tonight would be the last thing you’d have to do before being blissfully worry free for the entire week to come.

“Thank God,” you muttered, “I don’t want to look at a goddamn economics book again.”

No matter how much Sienna promised you that you’d eventually get it – econ was something dragged up from the seventh layer of hell.

“Spring break is only a week sweetheart. You’ve still got half a semester to go.”

“Never. Again,” you said, pushing out your bottom lip. As predicted, Eddie swooped in and kissed you. Smiling into it, he kissed you once more before leaning back. His hand came down to rub Frank’s velvety ear.

“So, how about we go somewhere for our anniversary?”

“This far in advance?” You asked, looking up at him and shrugging. “I guess we could make reservations for September now.”

“What?” Eddie blinked at you, confused. “Our six-month anniversary, Peach.”

The warm breeze hit the trees behind you, the leaves creating a glittering cascade of sunbeams as they shook. Eddie’s hair fluttered over his shoulders and you got the urge to curl a finger around a strand.

“Next week?” You asked, attention coming back to him. “Do you want to do something special?”

“Well, you just seem so excited,” Eddie said, pretending to be hurt.

Laughing, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek in mock apology. “I’m so sorry, wonderful boyfriend of mine, of course I’d like to do something with you.”

“That sounded better but you could still work on the delivery,” Eddie retorted, “it sounded a little sarcastic.”

Raising a brow, Eddie tried to fight his smile but you saw it anyway. “What are we doing?”

“More like where are we going?”

Perking up, you placed Frank onto the ground between you and crossed your legs. “Eddie.”

“Princess,” he said, his goddamn smug smile making your stomach flip in excitement.

Plucking some of the blades of grass from the ground you chucked them at him. “Where are we going?”

Eddie shot you a look as he pulled them out of his hair. “Gareth’s uncle has a cabin in the woods a few towns over, by that big lake,” Eddie snapped his fingers as if he’d forgotten the name.

“Lake Monroe?” You squeaked, having always wanted to go there. Nancy and Mike had gone like four summers ago and it was beautiful. She swore you’d love it, the hiking trails looked amazing.

“That’s the one,” Eddie smiled at your excited bounces, “his uncle is loaded and has some big house by the lake. It’s got like three floors and a pool.”

Holy shit, you don’t think you’d ever been in a house that big.

“Eddie, don’t mess with me,” you said, pressing your hands together.

“I would never sweetheart,” he said, leaning in for a kiss. “Gareth says he’s in Europe or something for work. I already talked to Keith and for a very humble exchange he agreed to give you Sunday through Thursday off.”

What? Eddie had talked to Keith for you? Shit – sometimes even you were afraid of Keith and you were probably his favorite. Well…his least hated.

“You braved Keith for me?” You asked, touched.

Eddie snorted. “Once I showed him how much I was willing to bargain for, he accepted pretty easily,” he said.

“Still,” you insisted, he’d been planning this for some time if everything seemed set in stone. “I can’t believe you did that for me.”

“What can I say?” Eddie said, buffing his nails and grinning at you. “I’ll do anything for my warrior princess.”

“My hero,” you swooned, throwing your arms around him and squeaking when he fell onto his back, “if this is what you’re planning for six months, what’s a year going to look like?”

“I’ll get you a flight to the moon,” Eddie joked. “Fleetwood Mac will be there with some pizza ready for a private concert.”

“Would we be alone?” You asked, realizing you weren’t sure if any of your friends were invited.

“On the moon? I’d hope so.”

You smacked his shoulder. “At the lake, dork.”

Eddie’s brows wiggled. “Can’t wait to have your way with me huh? Don’t worry, the house is on directly on the lake and the nearest neighbors are like three miles down the road. You can scream all you want and no one will hear us,” he said, nipping at the underside of your jaw.

“That’s not what I meant,” you said, pinching his side.

He jumped and shot you a glare. “Why is it always violence with you?”

“You love it,” you said, squeezing his shoulder three times – the words left unsaid. Eddie’s playful glare softened into something familiar, something he’d shown you since the first month you’d started dating. Sometimes you thought you’d explode with how much you loved him. The way your heart sped up when you were with him was ridiculous and probably unhealthy.

Eddie’s eyes trailed down your face, his hand coming up from your waist to cradle your cheek. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip and you nipped at the pad. His eyes darkened and you saw the words reflected back at you. Heart singing, you let him pull you down into a slow kiss.

“Yeah,” he said, lips tracing what he couldn’t say onto your skin, “I do.”

This was the first and last time you offered to swap early morning shifts with Keith. You groaned as you started sorting through the returns.

“Remind me why we said yes to a Thursday morning shift?” You called out to Steve, who was half asleep next to the computer.

Well, you knew Keith had you where he wanted you – at his beck and call until your last shift on Saturday. He’d been sure to let you know he’d graciously allowed the time off on short notice because of your strong work ethic. Robin had laughed so hard he’d heard from his office.

“Because we’re money hungry, Keith sucks, and Robin has school,” he groaned, rubbing sleep from one of his eyes. “I will give you all the money from my next paycheck if you go across the street and get us coffees.”

You snorted so hard you almost choked. “Tough sell Harrington. You’re closer to the door.”

“You’re the better person,” Steve huffed.

“I am,” you agreed, laughing when he shot you a look. “Uh, Steve?”

“What?” He said, voice muffled as he hid his face into his elbow.

“Is that cheerleader walking towards us Chrissy Cunningham or am I hallucinating without the caffeine in my bloodstream?”

Steve sat up, squinted, and turned towards the windows. “Oh shit, it is.”

“Fuck, do you see Carver around? He’s just like fucking Tommy,” you hissed, hating the little spark of panic you felt in your stomach. It was too early to start a fight.

“No, she’s alone, oh shit – she’s really coming this way,” Steve said scrambling up and trying to look like you both weren’t just gawking at her.

The bell above the door rang as she pushed it open, a bright smile erupting on her face. Her eyes were wide and you couldn’t help but smile back at her.

“Hi,” you said stupidly.

“Hi! Good morning!” She grinned, waving at a stunned Steve. You kicked him under the counter and he grunted.

“Hey,” he said. You shot him a look – smooth, Harrington.

“Can I help you find something?” You asked, a little thrown by her sunshine energy. Something…felt off about her. Trying your best to look nonchalant, you took in her jittering leg and wringing hands.

Chrissy’s face turned a fascinating beet red and you glanced at Steve who shrugged. “Um, I was actually looking for Eddie,” she mumbled, eyes widening even further.

“Oh,” you blinked, “well, um, he’s not here? He’s probably just waking up to be honest. He doesn’t really hang around here during the mornings. I haven’t seen him since yesterday afternoon.”

Her eyes shifted and you felt a surge of possessiveness.

“He’s my boyfriend so, if you’re here to set up some prank I can assure you that I won’t take kindly to it. I’m not someone you want to piss off either.” You felt Steve come up behind you, his foot nudging yours.

Chrissy’s eyes jerked up to yours and she shook her head earnestly. “I wouldn’t do that, I swear!” She turned her eyes to Steve and he nudged you again. “Really, I promise.”

And for some reason – you believed her.

“Oh, well, he’s um…not here,” you finished lamely. Chrissy scuffed her shoe on the carpet and you winced as an awkward silence settled. Steve cleared his throat after a beat and Chrissy jumped as if she’d been poked. Why did she look so spooked? You glanced at the doors, looking for anyone waiting for her. If you hadn’t been so thrown off, you’d say she looked…scared.

Her eyes darted around the store nervously. “He talks about you a lot, you know? I’ve seen you at the movies with him. You both make a cute couple,” she said, expression shifting to something soft.

“Oh,” you said, scratching at the back of your neck, “thank you.” What the hell did you say to something like that?

She leaned in closely, eyes anxiously on Steve. “I’m, um, looking to buy,” she whispered. You bit back a laugh, not wanting to come off rude but you doubted that Chrissy knew how to even roll a joint. Shit, you barely knew how to roll one.

“I don’t help Eddie out with that side of his business,” you said and you didn’t. Eddie was trying to save up as much as he could for a new apartment, one you had an inkling he was going to ask you to move into eventually. Which, was probably why he was taking so long to save.

You knew he felt embarrassed at being known as the local drug dealer no matter how many times you assured him otherwise. He was waiting for graduation to find a better job - you thought he’d like the record store downtown. Either way, Eddie rarely let you come with him to deliver and even less to stock up again.

“He actually had a gig a town over so that’s probably why you haven’t seen him,” you said. “I’ll tell him to keep an eye out for you. He’ll bring you what he has tomorrow.”

“Thank you so much,” she said, looking desperate and relieved. With another curious glance, you realized that she actually screamed of exhaustion, like she hadn’t slept in weeks.  

“Are you okay?” You asked her, throwing it out there. Chrissy looked startled and she, once again, looked nervously around the store.

“Yeah, totally, I just really need something,” she said, cheeks pink. “Thank you for helping.”

Before you could say anything else, she all but ran out the doors.

“Well, that was weird,” you said after a beat of silence.

Steve laughed, dropping his head back into his arms. “Everyone gets stressed in the last final months before graduation,” he said, eyes closing, “you almost choked me out when I spilled my soda over your textbook.”

“I had a final the next day!”

“I barely got the cover wet!” He retorted.

You rolled your eyes and chucked a paperclip at his head. “The cover is important too!”

The man in question barged in a few hours later, five minutes before your shift ended.

“Lady Henderson,” he called out, smile wide and eyes bright. You grinned, shifting your body towards him and taking in his outfit. He’d worn his favorite black Metallica t-shirt – the one with the tear in the collar - and your smile widened when the memory of Eddie ripping it as he tore it off you a few weeks ago flashed across your memory.

The mischievous glint in his eyes as he kissed your cheek said he knew what you were thinking of.

“Hello,” you said, grabbing his chin and kissing him properly. He made a happy noise that you wanted to sink into and almost jumped when Steve’s groan echoed in the empty store.

“Every time! Do you need to rub salt into the wound guys?” Steve said, huffing. He’d been conned by Robin into staying with her until closing and was cranky about it. Robin, however, looked like she’d won a gold medal.

“Hey Munson,” Robin said, coming out the back with a stack of tapes.

“Lady Buckley,” he greeted, bowing.

Without preamble, you’d grabbed your bag and sweater, already ducking under the counter. “See you guys on Saturday!” You called out, not having a shift tomorrow since you normally had class.

This time, however, Eddie wanted to take you to your favorite Italian restaurant two towns over to celebrate the beginning of spring break and your road trip up. He’d made the reservations earlier yesterday and you could practically taste the garlic bread already.

Intertwining his fingers with yours, Eddie brought your hand up to his lips. “I missed you,” he said.

“I missed you too,” you said, pushing the door open and pulling him towards his van. “Did you tell Wayne about our trip?”

“Yeah,” he said, rolling his eyes and flushing a little. “He loaned me his duffel to take with me.”

“That’s nice?” You said, not sure why he was turning red.

“He’d packed about a month’s worth of condoms,” Eddie said, huffing.

You froze, stopping in front of the van. His eyes were firmly on the door in front of you and you threw your head back in laughter.

“I don’t know why you find this so funny. It’s weird when your family knows you’ve having sex,” Eddie grumbled, opening your door for you and herding you in. You were still chuckling when he hopped in on the other side. “Princess, please.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, hiding behind your hand. “It’s just – so funny how much you hate it.”

“I’m glad my pain brings you pleasure,” he said, smiling. Eddie threw the van into reverse and pulled out the parking lot. The radio blared to life, surprising you, and you turned the volume down a little.

“You know, considering how much you can’t keep it in your pants we’ll probably go through them before we’re back,” you said, batting your eyelashes at him, never one to skip the chance to tease him, “especially considering the bathing suit I’m bringing with me.”

Eddie groaned and you knew that he was picturing you in the suit you’d shown him earlier in the week.

“I remember being worried that if I didn’t tie it hard enough the top slips off,” you said, tapping your chin, “since we’ll be alone it doesn’t seem like that’ll be problem. Right, sweetheart?”

“Princess, I’m driving,” he said, shifting himself.

“You’re too easy,” you smiled, tucking a leg under you.

Shooting you a glare, he sighed. “What movie did you get for us this time?” He asked, voice still a little strained.

“Since your pick last week was horrible, I went for a classic.”

“Not Splash again,” Eddie sighed.

“Hey, it’s dealer’s choice – no complaining! I sat through a Nightmare on Elm Street for you.”

“At least let me grab some beer so I can get through it,” he said.

“Deal,” you said, bumping his fist.

After a pitstop for beer and pizza, you were snuggled into the sofa in a pair of shorts and Eddie’s Hellfire t-shirt within the hour. Pressing play, you watched as Tom Hanks followed Daryl Hannah.

“You know, The Breakfast Club wasn’t as bad as this – and that’s saying something,” Eddie complained, dropping into the couch next to you.

“Ah, ah, no commentary please. Besides, you like romantic comedies!” You said as Eddie pulled your legs onto his lap.

Eddie shot you a look. “I am a man of many genres-” you snorted and he ignored you, “- I simply don’t like this one.”

“Well tough luck,” you said, sinking further into the cushions. You could feel Eddie’s eyes on you as Daryl observed the televisions curiously. “You’re not watching the movie.”

“You’re more interesting,” he said, “did you know that you mouth along to some of the lines?”

“I do not,” you huffed, poking him with your foot. His hand caught your ankle, his fingers dancing across the delicate skin making you tense up. “I know what you’re doing.”

“I’m not doing anything,” he said, innocently glancing up at you.

Yeah, okay, you snorted. “We’re not even halfway through the movie,” you groaned. Eddie’s hand drifted higher towards your bare thigh. “Eddie.”

“Hmm?” He said, pressing a kiss to your knee. A jolt of electricity that always hit you whenever Eddie was around shot through you.

You resisted for a few more minutes, his lips traveling up to your shoulder. While your attention had been slipping, you’d only closed your eyes when he bit down onto the sensitive patch of skin at the base of your neck. “I hate you,” you breathed, your voice hitching when he nudged you onto your back.

“Sure seems like it,” he teased, hair curtaining around you. Legs falling open, as if by habit, Eddie grinned as he settled between them. “Absolutely loathe me, do you?”

“You’re unbearable, you know that? Next week I’m seducing you two seconds into your movie.”

Eddie chuckled into your skin, the rumble of his chest travelling into your own. “Feel free to feel me up whenever you want, princess. I promise you; I won’t fight it.”

“Shut up,” you said, patience snapping. Lifting your hips to press against his, he hissed at the pressure. Before he could say something smug and full of himself, you fisted his hair and brought him down to you. Lips clashing together, you wrapped your legs around his hips and kept him close. Swallowing one of his groans, you tugged on his hair lightly and Eddie froze.

“I feel like the situation has managed to run away from me,” he panted, jumping when you palmed him through his pajamas. “Sweetheart, if you keep doing that this is going to end before the fun really begins.”

Huffing a laugh, you let your hand drift up higher to his side and Eddie’s eyes screwed shut as you bit down onto his neck. “Your sorcery won’t get the best of me,” he said shakily.

“Won’t it?” You smirked, lapping at bite. With a grunt, Eddie managed to capture both your wrists and press them above your head. He grinned, stupidly excited to have caught you off guard, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. Keeping your arms up, despite his loose hold, you let him take the upper hand.

Daryl, on the television, cried and you caught a flash of blonde that reminded you of something.

"Oh,” you said, Chrissy’s face swimming to the front of your mind. “Cunningham was looking for you." You squirmed as he sucked what would no doubt be a very visible hickey onto your neck.

“Who?” Eddie asked, uninterested, as he focused on nipping your skin. He dropped your wrists to ruck your shirt up above your chest. His hand quickly unhooked your bra, pulling it up, and his warm hand had your breath hitching as he trailed light touches across your bare skin.

“Cheerleader,” you breathed when he licked at the valley between your breasts, hands kneading your skin.

“There’s a lot of them.”

You sighed as his teeth scraped across a particularly sensitive spot. “Blonde, short, bubbly.”

Eddie huffed, breath fanning over your skin and your skin erupted in goosebumps. “Princess, that’s half the squad.”

You sighed, pulling back from his grasp. “She’s Jason’s girlfriend? I think.”

“Sure?” He said, "I'm trying to seduce you over here and you're talking about cheerleaders."

“Don't worry sweetheart, Jason's not my type,” you joked.

Eddie nipped at the swell of your breast in retaliation. "Please don't say another dude's name while we're naked together. I'm sensitive."

"Bossy, bossy," you said, shoving him over so that you were on top. Eddie's arms came to rest behind the back of his head and he grinned at the view. You trailed a hand down his chest, stilling above his buckle. "Look, just..."

Sensing your shifting mood, he propped himself up on his arms and ducked to catch your eyes. "What? What's wrong?"

“She looked desperate, scared? I don't know," you said, trying to remember her expression. "Just - could you make sure she is…okay? Before selling her anything.”

“Yeah, I’ll take a look,” he assured you, "don't worry."

“Yeah? Thank you," you kissed him, relishing in his immediate reciprocation.

“Can I go back to what I was doing now?” He asked, eyes dropping back to your chest.

Pretending to consider the situation for a beat, you nodded. “Proceed.” Without waiting, you laughed when he surged up and suctioned himself to you.

“Hold on, let me take this off,” you said, starting to pull his shirt over your head.

Eddie’s hand on yours made you go still. “Wait, can you keep it on?” He asked, pupils blown.

You glanced down at his club t-shirt and grinned. “You want to remember this every time you wear it, don’t you?”

“Am I that easy to read?” He asked, shameless.

Kissing him deeply, you smiled into it. “To me? Yeah.” You pulled your bra out from the sleeves and tossed it onto the floor.  

Eddie grinned, ecstatic at your answer, and leaned over the back of the couch to break open the new box of condoms. You let out a surprised burst of laughter and Eddie quirked his brow. “Wanna share with the class?”

“Nothing, just that – Wayne’s gift is being useful already.”

He froze. “Henderson, definitely don’t mention my uncle’s name when I’ve got a condom in my hand,” he groaned, shaking his head, “that’s worse than the first one.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you laughed, not sounding even remotely sorry. Eddie growled, flipping you back over. Out of breath, and astounded that neither of you had tumbled off the sofa, you caught sight of the time. “Hey, it’s officially Friday.”

“Two more days until we’re on the road,” he said, kissing you, “and out of this fucking cursed town, even if it’s just for five days.”

“Gosh,” you said, voice bright, “I wonder what we’ll do for five days? All alone…in a cabin in the woods…”

“I’m sure we’ll entertain ourselves somehow,” Eddie said, hands inching towards the seam between your thighs.

You gasped, heart fluttering when he smiled. “I’m sure we will.”

“Are you wearing the shirt I had on last night?” You asked, squinting against the sun streaming into his trailer and sipped your coffee.

Eddie glanced down at his chest and smiled. “Guess I am.” He flipped the pancake and slid it onto your overflowing plate. Sleep clung to both of you, making everything fuzzy.

“Why do I feel like that wasn’t an accident?” You asked, drowning your fluffy pile in syrup. “At least wash it first.”

“I resent the implication,” he said, grasping at his imaginary pearls. “How dare you even imply that-”

“-I mean it’s a miracle if that didn’t get dirty after what you did.”

“We did, you mean?” He said, waggling his brows. “I surprise even myself sometimes.”

“Oh, so humble too,” you grinned, giving him a sugary kiss when he bent over your shoulder for one.

“You’re the one who screamed so loud I thought Max’s mom was going to come over and ask if we were okay,” he teased, “was that a new record?”

“Shut up,” you grumbled, hiding your smile behind your mug. You hadn’t been able to walk straight last night and Eddie was being unbearable about it.

Eddie smirked, humming as he placed the pan in the sink. He sank into the seat next to you, curling his ankle around yours. The vinyl table rocked a little when either of you placed your elbows onto it and the sounds of the trailer park waking up snuck its way into your peaceful quiet but to you, these mornings were perfect.

“Hey,” you said, curving your fingers over his wrist. “Do you mind dropping me off before you go in?” You usually slept in and drove yourself home on movie nights.

“Sure,” he said, chewing on a bite, “I can pick you up at eight? The campaign should be done by six. That way we’ll have enough time to make it to the restaurant.”

“I got a new outfit for tonight,” you said, licking a drop of syrup that had trailed down to your wrist, feeling his eyes on you,“I think you’ll like it.”

“Yeah?” Eddie’s eyes darkened and you smirked. “What color is it? How short?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you said, licking the tip of your fork clean.

Without much warning, Eddie grabbed your wrist and dragged you towards his room. You stumbled, taken by surprise, hand reaching for your half-full mug. “Eddie, wait – my coffee’s going to get cold!”

“I’ll brew you a new pot,” he said, pushing you down onto the bed. You bounced once before you watched him rip his pajamas off. “We’ve got thirty minutes before we have to get out of here. Good news? I’m only half dressed.”

“Oh, but I’m the insatiable one,” you snorted, already wiggling out of your shorts.

“It’s that spell of yours,” he said, chasing your lips, “it’s too strong, warrior princess.”

Laughing, you gave into his nudging and wrapped your legs around his waist. “It won’t fall or falter, you know. I make sure it’s ready to weather whatever comes. You’re mine, remember?”

A genuine, small, smile grew on Eddie’s face, the heat in his eyes softening to something deeper – something dear to you.

“Yeah, I remember.”

It had felt like Eddie had just dropped you off home when the phone rang. Sprawled on your bed, you groaned. Crawling towards your night stand, you barely managed to grab the receiver before it stopped ringing.

“Hello?” You huffed, a little out of breath.

“Mrs. Henderson?” A familiar stern voice called out.

You straightened, eyes widening. “Yes?” You said, clearing your throat to try and imitate your mother’s. “Who is calling?”

“We’re calling from Hawkins High. This is the front office and I’m calling because your son has requested he speak to you urgently.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Hello?”

“What the fuck?” You hissed. “A little warning would be nice. What’d you do this time?”

“Nothing!” He squeaked. “Please, please, please-”

You groaned. “No, Dustin, I had a long night and today’s the first day of spring break. I was going to nap. I haven’t slept more than three hours in a week.”

“Have I ever told you how you’re my favorite? Of all time?”

“Ugh, Dustin.”

“I swear, I’ll owe you for the rest of the year.”

“What? What do you want?”

“I forgot my midterm paper for English on my desk.”

“You want me to bring it to you?”

“Preferably within the next two hours. It’s my last class of the day and like worth half of my grade!”

“Dustin,” you whined, not wanting to move.

“Please?”

“Fine,” you hissed, knowing there’s no way you wouldn’t have done it anyway. “You owe me.”

“Holy shit, thank you!”

“Language!”

And that’s how you found yourself back at Hawkins Highschool, a visitor’s pass stuck to the front of Eddie’s hoodie – that you’d stolen – looking for your little brother like Gollum following the one ring.

“Jesus, where the fuck is he?” You grumbled, checking the time.

Lunch, you realized. Spinning on your heel, you made your way to the cafeteria. Right as you turned into the hallway, a familiar voice shouted your name.

“Buckley!” You grinned, throwing an arm around her. “Skipping out on lunch?”

“More like late to lunch,” she grumbled, wrapping her arm around your waist. “My calculus teacher gave me a few extra minutes on my midterm.”

“Aced it?”

“Listen, Cs get degrees,” Robin snorted, pushing the swinging doors open into the chaos. “What are you doing here? I thought you took the day off to catch up on sleep.”

“Dustin,” you sighed, “forgot his English paper. I’m thinking of making him cook me breakfast every morning until Christmas.”

“Oh, or do your laundry!”

You gave her a high-five. “I like how you think.”

“I’m gonna grab food – Dustybuns is with your boyfriend by the windows, see you tomorrow?” She said, squeezing your arm once before stumbling off towards the questionable food.

Glancing towards the tables on the left-hand side your eyes met Eddie’s. Confused, he straightened and lit up anyway. Looking to see what had caught his eye, Mike followed his stare. Smiling, he nudged Dustin who scrambled to his feet and jogged over to you.

“Oh my God, you’re the fucking best,” he said, snatching the folder from your hands. “I owe you my life.”

“I was thinking laundry for the rest of the year,” you said, wrapping your arm around his shoulders.

“What?” He screeched; gob smacked. “Don’t you think that’s a little far?”

You narrowed your eyes at him and he grumbled. Walking over towards their table, you were suddenly intercepted by a wall of muscle. Jason Carver’s patronizing eyes took you both in.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite Henderson siblings,” he sneered, quick hands snatching the folder in Dustin’s hands. Your brother squeaked, eyes widening and you sighed. Was there ever going to be an end to this?

Without hesitating, and with speed that would make Max proud, you grabbed the folder back from him. Pushing Dustin a step behind you, you took one towards Jason. “I know it’s been a while since you’ve last seen me, Carver, but if you need a refresher of that sucker punch I gave you before I graduated; I’m happy to do an encore.”

His eyes narrowed and he took another step forward, his chest almost brushing against you. “I don’t remember what you’re referring to, unfortunately,” he hissed.

Eyes flashing, you clenched your hand and Jason’s eyes shifted to them. “You should call your buddy Tommy, see how picking on me and my brother ended up for him,” you said loudly, his friends snorting behind him.

While you hated the confrontation and they’d both taken every opportunity to take jabs at you – you’d learned very early on that you could never roll over. With a swift move forward, Jason flinched minutely but it was enough for you to smirk.

“Catch you later Carver,” you said, grabbing Dustin’s sleeve, and hitting his shoulder with your own as you passed by.

“Holy shit,” Gareth said, eyes wide and excited. “You just almost punched Jason Carver.”

“She just got him to flinch,” Jeff hissed, glancing over at their table. “I forgot how badass you are.”

“I didn’t,” Eddie said, his arms coming to your waist and pulling you firmly into his lap. “Hey warrior princess.”

“Hi,” you said, kissing his temple.

“Ugh, guys, please,” Dustin groaned.

You glared at him and he shrunk. “I suggest you not say anything lest I shred that folder.”

“Holy shit, that was so hot,” Eddie said into your ear. You rolled your eyes and tugged on his shirt.

“I can’t believe you really wore that,” you said.

“It’s the last campaign,” Eddie said, grin mischievous, “what else would I wear?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Mike asked, eyes wandering over Eddie’s regular Hellfire shirt.

Eddie snorted and you sighed. “Nothing,” you said, shaking your head.

“Still smells like you,” he muttered. You reached beneath your leg to pinch his and he jumped. “Now, now, no need to resort to violence.”

“I’ll show you violence,” you grumbled, leaning into his warmth.

The bell rang, a five-minute warning, and like always, everyone in the cafeteria ignored it.

The basketball team stood, however, and a pair of blue eyes burned a hole into your back.

“I should’ve known, the town Freak and Henderson would shack up together,” Jason said as he passed towards the door. A few of his friends chuckled, shooting you looks.

Jesus Christ did these guys not have anything better to do? You’d forgotten how judgmental this town could be. “Do you just like the sound of your own voice?” You snapped back. “The adults are having a conversation sweetie; remedial math is that way.”

Gareth snorted, water coming out his nose and Jeff pounded his back, eyes riveted.

“You just let you girl handle your battles?” Jason called out, trying to have the last word.  

“Uh, yeah, I make a cute damsel in distress,” he said, batting his eyes and everyone at the table laughed. Jason and company scowled and disappeared through the doors.

“See you tonight?” Eddie asked, kissing the edge of your jaw tenderly. You pecked him once before standing up. “Can’t wait to see the infamous outfit.”

Grinning, you walked towards the side exit. “See you,” you said, and with the eyes you felt watching you why not take a page out of Eddie’s book? You blew him an exaggerated kiss, knowing he’d get your point. Eddie pretended to catch it and tumbled backwards off his seat with excessive force. The table laughed, Dustin pretending to gag, and Eddie dusted his shirt off as he stood. He pretended to put in his pocket and smiled at you.

“Behave, children are present,” Eddie said loudly, a fake bashful expression on his face.

You winked, grinning, and disappeared out door. Dinner tonight couldn’t come fast enough.

[sukirichi]

happy little accidents

— Life is a series of unfortunate events, but sometimes, there are happy little accidents.

REQUEST. (accidental pregnancy, fuck buddies au) + childhood friends to lovers + baby moments with father! megumi

CONTENT/WARNINGS. slight smut, slight exhibitionism (I think? there’s a CCTV lmao) just daddy megumi uwu

NOTES. hi anon, thank you for requesting and joining the event! I have to admit...I don’t really know how to write this and I just had to ask my mother about her experiences in pregnancy LMAO. I apologize in advance if this sucks, I’m pretty good at fluff but domestic and cute stuff with children isn’t my expertise asggkhl I’m awkward around babies and kids so anyways, I hope you like it! OH AND ALSO I HAVE A CAMEO LMAO

Megumi’s hands runs up under your shirt, bringing about a shiver forward when his cold fingers come into with your warm skin. You feel him smile onto the kiss, his grip nothing but teasing before he brushes the underside of your breast, prompting you to grip closer to his hoodie. You and him were childhood friends; having always liked one another until playing house was no longer a game a but dream, but his family was too strict and controlling – they’ve made it clear long ago this relationship could never and would never happen.

His Uncle Naoya made sure of it.

But that didn’t stop the both of you. All the way from highschool until now in your university days, you and Megumi are still stuck together by the hip, occasionally fucking whenever time allowed. Weekdays are spent staring longingly at each other in the hallways, the weekends flourishing into finally’s and hushed kisses under the sheets, completely unaware of the world you both trudged in.

Today was one of those days, and you’re nothing less of passionate as you swipe your tongue out to taste his lips, smiling when you realize he’s also grown used to wearing your mint flavoured lip balm. “Mhm, Megumi, I missed you,” you placed your legs beside his arms, a contented sigh entering his mouth as he closed his eyes.

“You miss me? I’m always around you,” he reminds you, pulling away momentarily to tug your shirt to the side where he leaves a soft patch of kisses. “Never gonna leave your side, baby.”

“You better not. I’m the best you’ll ever have.”

Megumi nods wholeheartedly in agreement, not wasting time before he pulls you closer to him. You’re almost weightless as you crash on top of him, hands tangled into the other’s hair and his large palm squeezing your breast. It produces a breathy moan from you, a thread of saliva connecting your lips when it comes again – that hellish bitter and sour bile that flows up to your throat. You push yourself off him and run to the bathroom, the content of your stomachs poured while your groans echo around the room.

He’s beside you in an instant, crouching beside you to pull your hair up and pat your back. Once you’ve finished throwing up, you clutch at the indistinguishable bloating of your stomach, leaning back into his touch while you slowly regain your composure.

Your head is throbbing uncomfortably again, one that wouldn’t go away no matter how much you press your thumbs against it.

“Wh-what’s wrong? Are you sick or something?”

You chuckle a bit from the way he frets over you, hands tilting your cheeks side to side while he pales, a sheen of worry visible on his hairline. He’s always been such a worrywart. You look behind him and see the box of condoms in your half-open medicine cabinet, the sight making your heart drop in your chest.

“Megs...when was the last time we had sex?”

“Well,” he scratches the back of his head, “We’ve both been busy from uni, so...last month, I guess? It’s been a long time.”

You swallowed audibly. You’ve recently gotten that box of condoms because if you remember correctly, last time you both skipped straight to the deed after realizing you ran out of it. Eyes flicking over his confused ones, your throat ran dry and itchy from the throw up session, your voice low as you say, “I’m three weeks late on my period, Megs.”

He looks just as shocked as you are, but he doesn’t give you the time to recover before he rushes out into your apartment. For a moment, you’re left heartbroken at the cold bathroom tiles, thinking that he left, but Megumi comes back a few minutes later, a pregnancy test kit and some chocolates inside a plastic bag. Your eyes widen when he gently ushers you to sit on the toilet, his feet tapping impatiently on the floor while you both wait for the result.

And there it is.

The timer on his phone goes off. Megumi rushes beside you, his chin resting on your shoulder as he blinks at the test kit. He turns to you and blinks in question, wondering what the hell it meant.

“’Gumi...it’s positive,” you cry out, sending him into a stagger backwards when you jump at him. Thankfully, he’s carried you too many times to count that he’s natural at hoisting you into his arms, still rendered speechless as you announce, “You’re going to be a dad!”

It’s been five whole months since you and Megumi turned into being stable fuck buddies, intent on hiding your relationship from both your families, into homeless and young parents whose fear over life and the future only increased tenfold now with the growing baby inside you.

You still remember that dreadful moment when both of you are kicked out into your family estate, Megumi’s Uncle Naoya especially enraged over the news. He doesn’t even give his nephew a chance to pack his bags before he signals the bodyguards to escort you out, then takes away all Megumi’s privileges and former luxury of being part of the Zenin Clan. You assume he’d want to strangle his pitiful Uncle for the never ending mistreatment, but your now boyfriend is nothing but happy, relieved that he’s been freed from the tight reins that always got in both your way.

Unbeknownst to the controlling Zenin Clan head, his wife is much more cunning than he is. He knows his wife always had some sorts of tricks hidden up in her sleeve, but even you were surprised when Megumi’s Aunt Suki shows up in your college dorm one day, throwing a set of keys your way with a wink before driving off back to become Naoya’s beloved trophy wife.

She lent you one of her high-estate apartments and even a humble car, silently wiring fees into your bank account since Megumi’s was already shut down.

Truly, if it wasn’t for her, you and Megumi wouldn’t be able to live this comfortably no matter how much both of you worked your ass off.

Now, none of you had to worry about not getting to make ends meet, no more worrying about putting your health at risk by working two jobs a day along with university – you and Megumi agreed to take advantage of her kindness just until the baby was born, opting to live quietly and comfortably in your shared home that would soon be filled with more memories. Well, as comfortably as you both could anyway, since pregnancy – although a beautiful experience – wasn’t always rainbows and unicorns.

Megumi comes home one day, the food you’ve always been craving from the Chinese restaurant from the other town present inside his bag. He’s tired from uni, even more so that he shares your burden of becoming new parents, but every time he comes home to you, all his exhaustion is wiped away, especially with the evident growth of your belly.

Your boyfriend runs up to you after placing the food on the counter, his arms wide open to get a hug – he’s gotten extremely touchy ever since the pregnancy – when you reel away from him, face turning green.

Your fingers come to pitch at your nose, eyes narrowed at his confused pout. “Ugh, Megumi, your deodorant stinks.”

“You were the one who got this for me, though,” his brows furrow as he lifts his sleeve up to sniff himself. He doesn’t smell bad... “You said you liked it on me,” he mumbles more to himself than you, staying still in his spot when he sees how colourless you’ve become. “Why are you looking at me like that? I showered today.”

“I can’t stand the smell of you, I can’t, gosh,” pushing past him, you rush to the toilets, the morning sickness well present all the way until sundown as you throw up. Megumi stands at the doorway, hands extended in front of him as he’s unsure whether he could help you or not. You firmly shake your head at him, lips turned into a sneer. “No, don’t get near me or I will honestly whack you with my purse, Megumi. Get rid of that deodorant and find a scent free one or something.”

Megumi is left with a slack jaw when you hop into bed afterwards, too tired and irritated to finish your papers. Seeing that he should probably do the same and pamper you instead, Megumi is silent as he crawls under the covers, only to be kicked out with a harsh kick to his thigh and a fiery, “Get out!”

“Nobara,” he whines into the phone, too fearful to even look at the bedroom at the thought that you’d feel his gaze and get even angrier. Your instincts and senses sharpens with each passing day; he won’t risk it. “My girlfriend hates me!”

“I could see why.”

Megumi groans at his friend’s flippant tone, the sound of a nail file grazing acrylics mixed with lo-fi music playing from the other line. “I’m serious – she doesn’t even want me a foot near her! When I tried to join her on the bed, she literally woke up just to hit me with a pillow. Right in the face!”

“Let me guess, you’re banned from the bedroom and staying on the couch?”

“Yeah, I am,” he sulks on the couch, “I don’t know why she hates me. I can’t imagine what I did wrong.”

“You don’t have to do anything wrong for a pregnant woman to hate you, Fushiguro. It’s not your fault your face is just really annoying,” Megumi makes a sound of protest before slapping a hand over his lips, nervous gaze darting at your door again. He relaxes into the seat; you’ve probably fallen asleep. “But on a more serious note, I think it’s the hormones. She’s erratic right now and you can’t blame her, she’s literally growing a child inside of her, dude, are you crying?”

“She might divorce me because of my deodorant.”

“Idiot, you two aren’t even married!” Nobara bellows loud enough that Megumi pulls the phone away from his ear, waiting until she’s calmed down and continues speaking like she didn’t just burst his ear drums. “Listen, just be extra sweet and careful around her, okay? Don’t open your mouth as well unless you want to die. Now get a notepad or something, we’re going to devise the best Baby Mama Seduction Plan that is guaranteed to win her heart.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Nobara!”

“Hmph, you owe me tickets to that fashion show though. Get your rich ass uncle to pull some connections or something.”

“Nobara, you know I can’t—”

“Oh shit, is that your girl about to kick you in the face?” Megumi yelps as his body flips at the direction of your room, both hands raised in surrender with his phone pressed between his ear and shoulder. He sighs – the door is still closed – he should be safe for now. Meanwhile, Nobara snickers cockily, almost as if she could see everything. As always, Nobara was triumphant. “That’s right, we both don’t want that to happen, so stick to your end of the deal man.”

Megumi stays up the whole night to execute Nobara’s plan. It’s tiring to run back and forth in the open convenience stores just to fill the fridge up with all your favourite food, but Megumi is determined to have you accept him again, even if he knows you’re not actually rejecting him.

By the time you’ve woken up, all beautiful and glowing as you pad out your room, Megumi stands up straight to conceal his body ridden with exhaustion. He just wants to make you happy.

“What’s all this?”

“You’ve been working hard,” he starts off unsurely, a hand scratching the back of his head as he gauges for your reaction. You plop down on the dining table and don’t scowl as you take a whiff of the food, blinking for a few seconds before you dig in. It’s enough for him to take as a go-signal, and he walks beside you carefully, his voice wavering and soft. “I just wanted to surprise you – show you how much I love and admire you...all that.”

“That’s suspicious,” you mouth through a mouthful of dumpling, but smile anyways with your arms extended. “Come here, give me a kiss.”

Megumi is beyond elated as he buries himself in the warmth of your arms again, sighing when you kiss his cheeks and jaw. “Are we good?”

“Did you replace your deodorant?”

“Yes...”

“Good boy,” you kiss him on the lips this time. Megumi has the audacity to blush as if he didn’t just fuck a baby into you, making you laugh before you slap his ass, last night’s irration now replaced with a reminder that this was Megumi – your first love and everything more. There was no way you wouldn’t be ‘good’ with him; you’d go to heavens and back for him, but maybe once you’re done birthing his child. “Yeah, we’re good. Get the mint choco ice cream pint for me?” Megumi sprints to perform your commands, and you reward him by pulling him in for a deeper kiss the time, his lips so sweet and minty. You can’t help but sigh, falling for him over and over again. “You’re such a sweetheart, Megs. This is why I’m head over heels for you.”

“You didn’t want me sleeping beside you for a week straight though.”

Your nose scrunches at the memory – that slight change in your expression making Megumi step back – as you wave a spoon at him, glaring at him in warning. “Like I said, you stank.”

But...pregnancy wasn’t all that bad for the both of you. There were times you’re unable to keep your hands off him. Although unexpected and mostly occurring in the most inconvenient situations, Megumi can’t say he’s complaining, especially not when you push him towards the wall just as the elevator doors closed.

“Daddy,” you moan, guiding his hands into your already soaking wet panties. Megumi breathes sharply as he cups your drenching core, wondering how you’ve gotten this aroused without him doing anything sexual in particular.

The nickname spilling past your lips is unforeseen though, as is his growing kink for it when he hardens immediately.  

“Please, please, please, I need you so much – make me feel good, will you?”

Megumi has to pin your needy, trailing hands all over his chest down to your sides, his pupils blown wide as the elevator ascends from one floor to the other. His eyes dart to the blinking red light from the cameras, his Adam’s apple bobbing when you don’t stop in the slighthest, only leaning forward to tug and nip at the skin of his neck. Megumi groans at your ministrations; you know very well that was his sensitive spot. “Y/N, we’re literally in the elevator, just wait until we get back home—”

When Megumi tries to push you away to stop your hands from palming his boner, you growl, eyes fierce and heated as you turn to him. “Do you want me to chop your dick off and prevent you from having a second child?”

“N-no.”

“Then shut up and fuck me.”

“Fuck, okay, don’t blame me if I make you sore, though.”

You roll your eyes at him, your hands moving expertly as you bunch your skirt up to your waist to show him that your bud was already swollen just for him. “Megumi, my boobs are already are its most sore point, I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

Megumi makes quick work of shoving his pants down just to his knees, gentle yet needy as he pushes your chest flat on the walls, round and perky ass puckered for him to take you already. He could cum just from the sight of you bending over for him like this, your arousal already dripping down your thighs as you wiggle your hips at him, breathless in the desire to be taken once more.

There were still fifteen floors to go before you reached your destination. Megumi’s brows pinch together in anxiety that anyone could press for the lift, but you’re also submissively bent over for him, moaning and gasping his name even when it’s only the tip of his cock sliding into you.

He sees the way your fingers hover over the buttons, clearly more prepared to shut the doors and deny others entry than he was, and he thinks fuck it to himself before he buries himself deep into you, head thrown back at the heavenly and salacious feeling of fucking you raw. You’re somehow warmer and tighter, wetter with puffier lips during your second trimester. Just as he blanches at the thought he could hurt you, he remembers the doctor’s encouragement of more sex. Being the good boyfriend he is, Megumi fucks hard into you, groaning and panting when your walls clamp down on him.

He only wants to help you.

Days of rubbing your feet and singing to your belly were gone – now replaced with laughter pouring into your house and switching from listening to Mother Mother into actually enjoying nursery rhymes playing from the stereo.

It feels just like yesterday when he rushes you to the emergency room, your hand nearly crushing his during your contractions before you gave birth to his child.

Megumi has never really been much of an emotional person, preferring to be calm and stoic unless you’re around; the rare times he actually lets his walls down. Surrounded by a group of doctors, though, Megumi stops caring about saving face when they hand him his daughter. He isn’t the least bit embarrassed when he sobs upon seeing the tiny bundle of joy in his arms, so small and vulnerable that promised there and then – he’d do everything he can to protect his child and give them the best future.

Fushiguro Megumi is a hands-down helicopter dad. The moment you’re able to take your daughter back home, he’s already had the whole house baby proofed. Along with studying for his exams, he’s also switching back and forth to parenting guide books.

You can tell he’s taking his job as a dad very seriously. Megumi doesn’t hesitate to shoot out of the bed in the middle of the night whenever he hears his daughter cry, racing you to her crib while he rocks her back and forth and you prepare her milk. You’re both utterly tired and sleep deprived, your head resting on his shoulder as your baby calms down in his arms. Faintly, you feel him kiss the top of your head, encouraging you to go back to sleep with the assurance he can handle it.

But of course, you’re the stubborn parent, and you drag your boyfriend and daughter back to bed, making sure there was enough space to make her comfortable before falling asleep.

Being a parent – especially with the love of your life – has never felt any more magical.

Of course, it was hard and definitely not a walk in the park, but it was worth it. Every time you came home from school, Megumi would already be there, his daughter babbling nonsensically in his arms while he prepared her meals. At the sounds of the door opening, both of them would run to you, showering you with kisses while you did the same.

Both your families have still refused to accept you back – not that you both minded – but it was getting shameful to keep relying on his relative to provide for your family. Eventually, you and Megumi decided that the other stays to take care of your baby while you work after class.

You’re staggering inside your home like a zombie after a long day, muscles aching from too much work and brain barely functioning due to the lack of sleep. With a long, drawn out sigh, you plop on the couch next to your boyfriend who jolts back awake, still careful not to let his drooling daughter wake up in his arms. Upon seeing it’s just you, Megumi leans over to kiss you on the nose, smelling sweetly of floral detergent powder and baby cologne.

“Welcome home,” he murmurs at your skin, your eyes already fluttering close at the comfort and warmth of home. “Scarlet is fast asleep. She couldn’t wait for you to kiss her goodnight anymore.”

“Don’t be dramatic. Mommy will always come home to the two most precious people in the world,” Now, it’s your turn to kiss Megumi to remind him he’s also doing a great job. You know he’s working just as hard you are, and you honestly don’t think you could do this without him. “Megumi,” you begin, tracing soft circles into his wrist to feel his lulling heartbeat.

“Hmm?”

“Have I ever told you I loved you?”

“I think I know that already,” he smiles romantically at you – even after years, you’re still very much smitten with that smile, and the sight of him and your daughter alone has you relaxing back in your seat.

“Yes, but you need to hear it again,” you tell him, cupping his face into your palms. Megumi sighs as he leans closer into your warmth, his hands patting your daughter’s back to soothe her in her slumber. “You’re such a natural at this – being a father. I’m really lucky I had a family with you. It’s all I ever wanted,” Burying yourself closer into his arms and collecting the both of them into an embrace, you smile into his shoulder, feeling like you’re on cloud nine. “I don’t think life is gonna get better than this, Megs. I’m so happy right now I feel like I could die.”

“Don’t say the d-word around her,” he jokes, the two of you sharing tired and dry laughter. Once the amusement subsides, Megumi’s other hand shifts to squeeze your thigh to get your attention. “Y/N...do you ever think about...making us official?”

“What do you mean?” you mumble sleepily, “How else official could we get? We live together and we have a baby. Soon, we’re going to be employed too and then we can provide better for her and stop relying on Aunt Suki so much,” Megumi nods above you, but his lack of response is worrying that you look up to him, frowning as you see that his face is pulled deep into thought. “We’re already a family, Megs. What’s on your mind?”

“I want to marry you,” he blurts out, “I want to make you mine and mine only – I see a future and a forever with you,” Megumi looks you straight in the eye the whole time. “Marry me, Y/N. Please.”

You’re rendered speechless.

You love him so much, you really do, and nothing about that will change. After spending a lifetime with you, Megumi knows just by looking at your face that there’s a but coming afterward and he clenches his jaw, sadness swirling in his eyes that you have to stop him before his thoughts run off again. “I want that too, Megumi, believe me,” you reassure, brushing his hair back with your fingers; a gesture that always pulled him back to you. “I just don’t want to rush things, you know? We can still barely stand on our own and we have Scarlet to worry about. I think we should focus more on her future than ours.”

Megumi nods, albeit disappointed, though this doesn’t stop him from kissing you straight on the lips before he mutters, “I understand but...think about it, at least?”

“You already know my answer would be yes.”

“Scarlet! I wonder where my little princess is hiding,” Megumi announces from outside your room, your toddler giggling beside you as you both hide behind the closet hand-in-hand. Four years later, you and Megumi are married, and life’s gotten a lot easier – in addition to it being a whole lot more domestic since Megumi takes his husband title just as seriously as being a father. Right now, he’s crawling outside, his voice lowered in an attempt to be scary. “If I find her, she’s going to face the wrath of the tickle monster!”

“Tickle monster!” Scarlet gasps beside you, turning to you with wide eyes. “Mummy, I don’t want tickles!”

“Then we better be quiet so Daddy doesn’t find us!”

With your voice intentionally louder than a whisper, it doesn’t take long before Megumi opens the closet doors, carrying you both effortlessly before dropping you all down onto the bed. “I found you!” You all tickle each other and laugh, your daughter falling into panicked squeals while you chortle at the side. Megumi then hoists Scarlet up before the both of you kiss both sides of her cheeks, sending the giggling child into an utter ticklish mess.

While the two are busy tickling one another, you feign a gasp, clutching at your husband’s bicep.  “Megumi!” your eyes widen, pointing deftly at the kitchen with trembling lips for effect. “Can you please check the oven – I think I left something in there and it might be burning!”

“I don’t smell anything,” is all he says, but runs there anyway. Megumi stands in front of in confusion, Scarlet safely bundled in his arms while her father opens the oven, frowning as he takes the object out and inspects it. “Mittens? But Scarlet is already—” Just then, Megumi’s jaw drops, his grin stretched wide while Scarlet keeps poking at the mittens, trying to make them fit into her slightly larger hands. “No way. Another one?”

“Another candy?”

You laugh at Megumi’s beaming face that matches his daughter’s – the two looking too much alike – but for completely opposite reasons. “We’ll get you all the candies you want, sweetheart,” you swipe a candy from the counter and hand it to your daughter’s grabby hands, pecking Megumi’s cheeks who is still beyond flustered at the announcement. “But yeah we have another one – and it’s a boy!”

[vespersposts]

ブラック・オーシャン - Black ocean

🧭 In the first story of the series, apart from the ever-present demon of my heart, you will find a bit of melancholy and perhaps a less 'light' topic than usual, which I hope won't upset anyone (hints of fertility issues so if it is a trigger for you, I would advise against reading it).

🫧I have deliberately described the characters as adults, ideally this story is about people in their late 20es.🫧

Thank you all for the support and kindness I always receive! ⛵

A hug,

V.🦀

✍PS: I apologize in advance for any grammatical and/or spelling mistakes, English is not my first language (bear with me!).

➿Genre: fluff, slice of life, one shot.

"It's a boy!" 

The words come out spontaneously as soon as you close the call, but only when you add that she is fine you see him smile. You raise your glass to toast, but it is immediately clear to you that he is no longer there. It doesn't take much to get him worked up when something, anything, concerns her or his friends.

He grabs your hand, waves goodbye to his teammates, to the coach and his retirement cake, to lead you down the corridor; heading from the roof of the hotel to the staircase block. 

He chooses the ground floor button and leans against the mirror in the lift cabin, a smile on his lips and his mind completely absorbed by the news of the hour. He doesn't speak to you; he's too busy checking his mobile phone, too intent on smiling to himself at the euphoric reactions the good news has aroused in the whole group.

No surprise at all.

You always knew that he would consider that newborn child as his own. 

He had fallen in love with that little being as soon as he had managed to rationalise its existence in Satsuki's womb. Now, nothing and no one would be able to distract him from the mission of being the first 'uncle' to meet the first born of the new generation of miracles.

His dark and warm jacket lands on your shoulders while you wait for the valet to bring the car back to him: the night is cold against your bare back, but you realise it at that moment. You don't need him to open the car door to let you in, you just need a due date to moments like these, when your thoughts are at war. 

You only need him to tell you what in your mind is already so painfully clear.

"Aito" he smiles as he stops the car "Aito Kuroko. What a killer name! Sounds pretty badass, doesn't it?" he asks you, as he checks the traffic light. He leaves his long fingers on the gearbox, completely ignoring your open hand on your lap.

" It's beautiful indeed, I was so hoping it would be a boy " you remark, bringing your hands together to your womb, as if reciting a lazy prayer.

" Satsuki would have preferred a girl, for sure!" he adds, putting his hands back on the steering wheel and briefly searching out your gaze.

“ All she cared about was that the baby was healthy, Aito* or Setsuko** would have made no difference. A baby is a miraculous gift, regardless of gender”  you tell him, adjusting the seat belt that suddenly feels heavy on your chest.

" What's wrong ? My baby longs for a baby? No need to be envious, if you wanna be a mommy say so, I might even help you" he teases, laughing lightheartedly, because he really has no filters.

You know he cares deeply about you, but after learning of your condition he struggles to tune in, as if ignoring that uncommon feature could heal it, as if pretending that everything is fine could set you back in time. He doesn't realise the delay he has accumulated nor that, in doing so, he only expands that lapse of time in which his words become the heaviest of weapons. He hurts you with his blunt nonchalance, only to be confronted with reality and have to offer you a sincere but useless apology.

"It doesn't matter Daiki, not at all. " you agree, as you watch the scenery flow past the window, now that the car is speeding along the open road leading to the hospital exit.

The maternity ward is a happy island painted in soft pastel colours and decorated with natural images so reassuring that, for a moment, they make you forget the tangy smell of disinfectant and the cold neon lights. "Are you the father?" asks an astonished nurse who stares at you two for a long time, trying to work out what strange sentimental geometry Aito was born from. "No, I... Hey Tetsu, congratulations!" you can hear his voice change tone, as soon as the new dad's ruffled blue hair comes over the horizon.

"You can be heard all the way to the last room, Aomine-kun!" his childhood friend picks him up amiably, before turning the most tired but satisfied of smiles on you.

 "Satsuki? May I see her? " you hear your boyfriend's deep voice again. You release the embrace between you and Kuroko and know that the neo-father has seen it. 

He seems to have a special talent for seeing what you try to hide.

"If she's too tired, we can come back tomorrow!" you propose to the young man, just to make sure he doesn't ask you in front of your partner why you look so resigned. 

"Don't be silly babe, of course she will see us, I am pretty much her brother !" he shushes you "Aito? Where is my nephew? I want to see who he looks more like!" he concludes by throwing an arm over Testuya's shoulders, forcing him to reveal where his wife's room is.

You remain a few steps behind, and as you turn to thank the nurse, you realise that your noisy visit at such a late hour is not entirely welcome.

"Fifteen minutes at the most" she tells you in a firm tone "And please shut him up!" she concludes, leaving you alone in the corridor.

Standing in the doorway, you hear them laugh before her eyes settle on you. You have always admired Satsuki for her charm and strength; but at that very moment, when she turns her warm smile on you and waves you closer, your heart fills with gratitude for paying attention. "Are you all right?" you ask her in a half-voice, hugging her tenderly, noticing the see-through cradle beside her bed, where a tiny pink-and-white creature claims attention by lifting tiny feet into the air.

"Meet Aito" she tells you softly, smiling contentedly as her eyes follow Daiki as he moves from the foot of the bed, to stand beside you. He rests a hand on your back, as your eyes move from the newcomer to him. "He's so tiny" is all you manage to say, before being invited from the newly parents to pick up the baby. 

"No, bro, why me, what if I break him?" the boy hastens to reply, as Tetsu gently places Aito in his arms, smiling in satisfaction at Daiki's sudden silence. You can see your boyfriend straighten his back, his eyes glued to the little one, his lips curled up in that typical smirk of his , the one which makes him look like a braggart, but the one with which he actually hides the utmost concentration on a goal. You bring a hand close to his bicep to remind him to breathe, smiling when you hear him exhale.

 "Cool as uncle!" he annonces, smiling broadly, turning towards you to let you have a closer look at the one who will surely be Daiki's only topic of conversation for the next two weeks. 

"This is your aunt, little one, the one I'm gonna walk the aisle with, so don't fall in love with her! " he tells him softly, cradling him lightly under his parents' proud gaze. 

If you could fully grasp what he has just made clear he wants from you, you would probably stammer a few words to brush off his request, but you are too enraptured by the mild but powerful sense of wholeness that the little bundle exudes, to pay attention to words. You caress the baby's soft hand, which opens like a flower: five tiny, perfect fingers, five tiny, perfect nails, tiny phalanges clinging to your pinky as if it were his only lifeline.

Isn't it the level of love that everyone deserves?

A family, two people merging into a third. 

You look at your boyfriend, you see his deep blue eyes, his perfect nose, his luscious lips, but you sense something more, a desire you cannot satisfy.

A would-be husband and father, whose head is already in the clouds at the very idea. An infant who, gripping your finger, made you realize how much you are emptying your partner's life by depriving him of all that love.

Now it's your turn to remain silent, standing in the large lift in the cold, sharp light that makes you look even more grotesque: made-up, combed and dressed up in a hospital. Completely out of context, completely defeated.

Useless: that's how you feel.

You look down at your pinky, squeeze it between the fingers of your other hand, because you don't want him to notice how flustered you are. 

"I'm not going to sleep anytime soon, how about we go for a ride?" he asks you as soon as you leave the building with renewed energy. You nod, letting him guide you with a smile to the dark car parked just outside the building's entrance.

Sitting in the vehicle's black leather seat, you see him take off his jacket and throw it in the back, adjust the seat belt over his chest, start the engine and, gripping the gearshift, turn the car around.

The city lights scroll quickly across his face, his eyes focus on the road, his voice humming a song on the radio. You smile when you notice that Satsuki is right: he should be less of a slacker and go get a haircut, but deep down you like him that way, too. You look at the way his dark shirt falls perfectly over his shoulders and muscular arms, you look at the reflection of the city lights on his steel watch, and from here you gaze at his long hands drumming on the steering wheel and exhale slowly. You miss his long, warm fingers squeezing your thigh, only to stop when you entwine them with your own. You miss his voice addressing you with a teasing complaint, only to later confirm that you desire him as much as he desires you. You miss the stolen kisses , the chuckles, the taunting.

You miss him. You miss the way you were with him.

You lower your gaze to the gearshift and from there to your closed hand, spilling it over the back to open it, not caring too much if the ring, which has been shining on your finger for a few weeks now, rips your socks off. 

You just want him to show you that he still wants you, despite you, however little.

Except that your hand remains alone on your lap. Alone like you, who already know where that useless ride will lead.

Once he would have taken you straight home, once you would have even struggled to get there dressed. Now he has to take the car, so he can get some action. That's sad.

You stare at your empty palm, which turns red now that it is illuminated by the traffic light, and suddenly you feel the need to address those words to him. 

" If I'm getting in your way, just tell me. I won't hold you back " 

The light turns green, but the car remains still and so do his eyes, fixed on the black concrete interrupted only by the reflection of the lights of the city's skyscrapers. You hear him sigh.

It's a matter you both knew would come up sooner or later, but somehow you had deluded yourself into thinking you could avoid it for a long, long time. 

"What the f-ck?" he grumbles in half-voice, as he brings his hands to his face as if to wipe it away, before showing it to you. "Why now?" he asks you, sincerely exasperated "Why now that everything is fine again?" he continues, turning a resigned look on you.

"Cause it isn't. I can’t take this anymore. You know I can't " you specify, stressing the last word.

"We're gonna fix it, there's nothing we can't do" he urges you, but one look is enough to know what you're referring to. He looks in turn at his arms, from which a few minutes earlier little Aito was smiling blissfully, and you need only to stare into his eyes to know that he has figured it out. 

"It's not us. It's me. You can. I can't " you tell him. "I'm sorry. My body is unfit, that's why. You heard the doctor" you conclude as you look again at the palm of your hand turning red.

No one says a word, no one interrupts the chanting of the radio.

You remain silent, the traffic light turns green, the clear road in the late night brings you quickly to that open space just outside the city. 

A basketball court.

His favourite basketball court, the one where he and his generation of stars hang out to spend a few hours, the one that has the new rubberized floor that wears out the soles of his sneakers in no time, the one where kids can't wait to pass by after school, just like he did at their age. The same field where he met you at the beginning of college and where, almost nine years later, he made you promise that sooner or later you would be his forever.

You smile a bitter smile, because there is no better way to close the circle.

You see him turn off the car, open the door, get out to open yours too and wait for you to join him. You comply, leaving the warm cockpit for the clear, cold night, standing still not far from the car, which is closed with a sounding flash. 

You feel his large, warm hand clasping yours, his fingers sinking between yours, his tall, muscular figure leading you to the centre of the key area, under the basket, lit by the flickering light of the street lamps. 

"Do you see it?" he asks, bringing his face closer to yours to make sure you are looking for the right one. You know what it is, you have known for almost nine years. You've known it since that day when you stuck on his face the free sticker from the soda he stole you. The same sticker he promptly stuck to the backboard with a jump, daring you to retrieve it, if you wanted your precious can back.  

"I know it's there, even if it's worn and discoloured" you tell him tilting your head to look him in the eyes "I understand what you want to tell me but..." you sigh " You can't compare your future to a sticker. A family, raising a bunch of kids with someone who can actually have them. These are things that will make you happy, not the dreams that an old sticker reminds you of. That's what I want for you " those word come out as a whisper, as you barely close your eyes as you feel his warm hand caress the back of your neck. 

“Is that what you think love is ? ” he asks you, pulling you close, letting your head rest on his chest as his arms wrap around your naked back. You nod and look at each other for a long, intense moment, before his eyebrows relax and his lips curve gently.

You know he is calm, though you don't know how he can be. 

"You're wrong" he smiles "You're so wrong" he repeats, bringing his warm hands closer to your face and leaning down a little to look at you softly. "Love means more than raising kids, buy a home, live a life together. Love is what blends everything in : fun, thrill, passion, pain. Love is a whole that's broken into a thousand rips and splinters, which mend perfectly as long as we're together. This is it, this is us. This is you. To me you are love, the only kind of love I long for " he ends up, wiping away a lonely tear from your face.

"But Daiki…" you try to object, but you lack the courage to support that theory, that would take away the most important one in your life.

"But babe, I'm telling you, you're wrong!" he smiles again, stroking your hair to leave a warm kiss on your temple, looking at you earnestly, speaking from his heart "I don't want anything I can't have with you. All I want for me is you, know that. If it's not with you, nothing is real for me" he confides you, sealing his promise by leaning over to kiss you softly, his soft lips against your salty ones, his warm hands lifting you effortlessly to bring you to him, your hand on the back of his head bringing him to you.

The kiss deepens and no matter if you run out of breath or your shoes slip on the rubberized floor of the basketball court, when you open your eyes again and find his own, you know why only he can be the one.

"Let's go home" he suggests softly, sliding you slowly over his body to put you down. The car passes through the deserted city, to stop at a red light that does not interrupt your chatter. You nod at yet another provocation, earning a kiss and a puzzled look as you get his attention by calling his name.

"Yes, hon?" his deep voice replies, his gaze slowly shifting from the street to you. "What happened to my touch-starved boyfriend?" you point out with a smile, innocently stroking his thigh.

"I knew it would drive you nuts, you adorable pervy!" he confesses with a hint of mischief in his voice, and you feel the warm grip of his large hand on the skin of your leg as the boy's laughter fills the cockpit.

" Says you! What a jerk!" you laugh, touching his fingers, entwining them with yours, receiving his large hand, feeling reassured when he tightens his grip and kisses your knuckles.

You were sure that the night in which Aito was born would be the last night at Daiki's side. The arrival into the world of that child with his hanting name, would shipwreck in his dark waters not only your relationship, but also any chance of future happiness.

Aito Kuroko, the dark ocean.

Daiki Aomine, the bright light that will always lead you back home.

Your Daiki, the one who made you realize you were wrong, so wrong.

* (meaning: Ocean), ** (meaning: Melody)