#I liked that his parents were there but it was so quick and then he just.. leaves again?? no problem?? and I guess they’re fine with it now

[memori662]

KIAN vs ALEXA (my two dear snipers...)

Spoiler: they end up as besties

And sorry if the P.O.V. is strange. Idk why sometimes they're written in first person and another times in third person.

Bang!

Alexa dogdes the bullet just by a hair.

Bang! Bang!

Now, what the fuck?

“Hey, to whoever is trying to kill me: I'm sure I have no debts. And if you're looking for any debts my parents might had...” She smoothly takes out her hand-gun. “I'll make sure you don't get your prize.”

Her eyes search for any strange movement. Any sound. Anything. And they land on a green fluffy ball (?) on one of the buildings.

The green fluffy ball (?) must've noticed her eyes on ‘itself’, as ‘it’ —in an abnormal velocity— changes placement.

“It's a solo sniper? Snipers don't usually attack alone. Or it's a very good sniper or there's more enemies.”

Shit. She has lost sight of ‘it’.

“Are you being a coward?” Maybe provokating whoever that might be lure ‘it’ out. “I mean, if you're a sniper that some dark organization hired to kill me, I'd feel honored to be such an important figure.” For fucks sake, I sounded just like Memori or Mimi...

It doesn't work. Bang!

Oh, they're good.

Alexa isn't one that works in dodging —unlike a particular blonde girl named Memori—, she's also a sniper. And she recognizes a good job done —thing that Memori definitely wouldn't...— Wait, don't think of her everytime??! Maybe those are things that happen when you're a competitive person and is paired with someone who enjoys remarking ‘how much better she is at everything’. But anyway, as I was saying— Bang!

“We're gonna be bad blood...” she mutters.

Her red eyes scan the place quickly, taking notes of anything she could use at her advantage and anywhere more enemies could been hiding. I should probably ask for help— Bang!

She would've been already dead if it wasn't for her quick thinking. She's been doing this practically since her birth.

I should confront them directly. Snipers usually don't have good hand-to-hand combat skills.

And with a quick and quiet running, she luckily makes it to the top of the —gladly not too tall— buildings without being shot.

She knows the green fluffy ball —that now takes the shape of a young adult probably with her same age, that wears a fancy mob-like suit that which would give off an intimidating aura if it wasn't for his puppy-like expression— allowed her to actually come closer, because he clearly isn't a normal human.

“Wow,” the puppy-looking boy speaks, “it's been a while since someone succesfully dodged my bullets.” His voice doesn't have any venom, just genuine interest. “You're good.” He smiles.

“I know I am good.” As she speaks she fires her gun. “No need to remember me.”

“If I shoot now, you cannot dodge.” The green-haired boy smiles slyly as he easily dodges the bullet. “Are you sure it's wise to keep attacking me?”

“Who said I couldn't dodge?”

“It's basic knowledge. You're so close to me that if I fire right now, you wouldn't have time to dodge.” he speaks lightly with a sing-song tone.

“Are you suggesting we chit-chat this over? Because I'm no diplomat.”

“Neither I am.” Even though his voice and overall appearance were so soft and puppy-like, the sniper in his hands right now says the contrary.

He probably isn't half bad in hand-to-hand neither. I need to be careful for any ambushes or hidden trap.

“Are you thinking about my skills right now, Alexia?”

“It's Alexa.” Oh no, this man is giving me déjà vu...

“I think Alexia sounds cuter, don't you think so?”

... Definitely déjà vu.

“Hehe, but I think Alexia suits you better, don't you think so, Ale~xia?”

Ugh, get out of my head, you fucking egocentric bitch—

“My name doesn't have anything to do with being ‘cute’. And how do you know my name?”

“Your name?” He widens his eyes —so fucking adorable—. “I thought you'd know me!”

Nope. This guy's on drugs.

“I'm Kian. K-I-A-N!” If he had a tail, it'd be swinging happily right now. “And you're Alexa. A-L-E-X-A.”

Why is he spelling the names again...?

“I asked you a question.”

“Memori is your Boss or something like that, right?”

Of course.

“You know her?”

The glimpse of sadness in his eyes disappears as quick as it appeared. “Yes.”

“What's she to you?”

“...” He seems to be struggling to find the correct words. “We- She was a close friend.”

... Is this some sort of pattern? Thinking of all the similarities...

Being unclear as fuck, acting as if everyone should know what you're talking about, being in your own world, switching personalities as a light switch, loud, child-like, asking how your name's spelled... There's definitely some patterns.

“Are you implying she hired you to kill me?”

“I'm not,” he whispers to himself. “It was just because.”

“Just because? Nobody hired you, no ‘a higher power demanded me to’? Nothing?”

He nods with apologetic eyes. “Memori seems to like you very much.”

Hell yeah she does and doesn't even try to hide it.

“You're asking why Alexa has to go with me?” She asks with a nonchalant expression. “Obviously because she's better than you all.” Her words are often impossible to understand if they're seriously or not. But it wasn't the first time that she admited a clear favoritism with Alexa.

“But Alexia, what do you man with a high—”

“Dude, did she reject you or what? You look so hopeless always talking 'bout her.”

“No?? I don't see it.”

“Ya sure?”

“Sure. She's like my sister.”

“... Really?”

“Really. She's like a black cat.”

What. Definitely no.

“Uh-huh,” I continue. “Why did you think it's a good idea to attack me?”

“Well, since Mori bullies you—”

“She doesn't.” Mori.

“—she must like you very much! And I wanted to see what it is that she likes about you so much!”

“You're nuts.”

“I'm not a nut- I'm not an aliment!”

“I know you're a real human.” He recoils just a bit when I call him a real human. “I meant you're crazy.”

“Ohh!” He has fangs. “That's what you meant!”

“Are you four or what?”

“I'm the same age as you!”

“Really? I don't think so. And how the fuck do you—”

“Ah, sorry for this,” he says as he lowers his sniper.

“No worries.” A total weirdo after another weirdo. “And where ya from? Your work, I mean. You look too fancy to be a normal sniper. Don't tell me you're a blue-blooded rich?”

“Ah, that is... Hm.”

“Very helpful,” irony fills my words. “So ya aren't a rich?”

“Ah, you could say... Kind of rich. My work pays me well.”

“Are riches becoming more and more common by the time?”

“People are getting better and better at finding suitable jobs!” He exclaims with optimism.

“I don't think Memori's your friend.”

“She's an angel! Who wouldn't be her friend?”

“An angel, you say?” She asks skeptically.

“She may be nicknamed sinner now, but I mean it as her personality—”

“She's nicknamed sinner now?! Since when?”

“Ah, between a circle of rumours,” he half-lies smoothly. “Nothing big, really. Some people simply resent her for her former job.”

“That chick was probably in some illegal trade. Tell me otherwise,” she rolls her eyes in exasperation.

“You don't know where she used to work?”

“At least me, no.” She looks at the sky. “She's a real mistery among us. Classic rich person behaviour. How delightful.”

“You don't have a very limited vocabulary!” He seems oddly excited about it. “I thought you wouldn't know words like ‘delightful’.”

“It's not a bad thing.”

“Why the hell wouldn't I.” No, this man right here? He's also a total fucker.

“Uh-huh.” Of course it is a compliment. Of course. Very obvious. Totally expected.

He suddenly grabs my hand and shakes it with both of his hands with a bright smile, but quickly stops after what seems like remembering etiquette. As if there is an etiquette for shaking hands. There isn't, right? ... Not that I would know, anyway.

A little late, no? “Alexa. Pleasure's mine. Is that what I'm supposed to reply?” I ask genuinelly this being the first decent handshake I've ever had.

“Excuse me,” he apologies with a smile as he lowers up his right-hand and looks at me expectanly.

??? What does he wants me to do?

“Uhm... What do I do?”

“Ah, nothing,” he dismisses.

Oh, a headshake.

I offer my left-hand to him. He stares at my hand, as if it was strange. Fuck, do headshakes have some etiquette I'm not aware of? “Am I doing something wrong?”

He focuses his attention back to my eyes as he accepts my headshake also with his left-hand. “It's not a big deal. Usually, handshakes are with the right-hands.”

So it does have an etiquette.

“Oh. I'm left-handed. I didn't know.”

“Don't worry your pretty little head about it.” He replies as he shakes his hand four times, completely different from how his behavior was a minute ago. “My name is Kian. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Mhm, maybe a little bit more formal, but yes,” he chuckles and nods. “You are cute. Like a mouse.”

Like a mouse. That's new.

“And you're like a dog.” It's an implied insult.

“Why, yes! I get told that often.”

“Figures.” I stare at this green-haired man with disbelief at his obliviousness.

“Welp, I need to go now.” He adds, “Boss expects me...”

Boss? So he does work for someone, huh?

“Bye-bye, Alexia! It was nice to meet you!” He waves his hands with excitement.

“... Nice to meet ya too, I guess.”

And with that, he jumps swiftly away.

Huh, what a strange man.

Randomly pick 2 OCs. Make them fight. How will it go?

[bat-mom-writer]

Impulses

Bruce Wayne(Husband) X Reader(Wife)

Summery: you can be very quick to act on your impulse, usually being done with a kind heart. But can sometimes lead to you and some others being hurt.

Note: Something tells me Bruce wouldn't go to therapy, but this isn't real so...

Rate: Loving Bruce, the very small almost of angst

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So, tell me Bruce, are you happily married?"

"Of course."

"Then why are you here?"

"Well," Bruce pauses, thinking over his words carefully, "it's not exactly that simple."

The therapist's office was quiet, the kind of silence that felt like it was holding its breath. Bruce Wayne sat in a chair that was a little too small for his broad shoulders, his eyes darting to the clock on the wall. It was a simple room, with a few plants scattered around and a faint scent of lavender in the air, but it was the last place he ever thought he'd be. He was a man who dealt with Gotham's problems from the shadows, not one who talked about his own in a well-lit space with a box of tissues within arm's reach.

"How so?" the therapist asked again, her voice gentle but firm, bringing Bruce back to the present.

He sighed. "Well, my wife… she's incredible. She's kind and she's the glue that holds our family together."

The therapist nodded, her expression neutral. "But?"

Bruce leaned back, rubbing his temples. "But she's… impulsive. She does things without considering the consequences, especially when it comes to the boys."

The therapist made a note in her pad. "Could you give me an example?"

Bruce sighed heavily, his mind racing with instances. "Once we went hiking, and she found a baby wolf, injured and alone. She insisted on bringing it back to the manor to care for it herself. Most of my sons thought it would be a great idea—until we realized it had a pack out there looking for it, and suddenly we had a bunch of very unhappy wolves on our backs."

The therapist looked up, raising an eyebrow. "I see. And how did that situation resolve?"

Bruce chuckled, a bit nervously. "Let's just say there were a lot of stitches involved. And I haven't heard anyone wanting to go camping again ever since."

The therapist's eyes widened, but she remained calm. "It seems she has a heart of gold, but maybe a bit of an overactive sense of adventure."

Bruce nodded. "Exactly. And it's not just with animals. She once tried to organize a surprise street carnival in the middle of Gotham because she thought the city needed more joy. You can imagine the chaos that ensued with all the traffic rerouting and permits she didn't bother to get."

The therapist's pen stopped mid-stroke. "Ah, so her intentions are good, but the execution could use some work."

Bruce nodded emphatically. "You have no idea. She's the love of my life, but sometimes I worry she's going to get us all into trouble. The boys look up to her, especially Dick and Damian."

The therapist leaned in slightly. "How do Dick and Damian react to her impulsive nature?"

"Dick tries to be the voice of reason, but he's young and still learning the ropes of being a responsible older brother. And Damian," Bruce sighed, "he's more like me—he's intrigued by the chaos she creates, but he's also the one who ends up getting hurt when things go awry."

The therapist nodded understandingly. "It's natural for children to look up to their parents, especially when they see the love and good intentions behind their actions. But it's also important for them to learn about boundaries and the potential consequences of impulsivity. How does your wife react when you bring this up with her?"

Bruce leaned forward, his expression a mix of affection and exasperation. "She's… well, she's stubborn. She sees the world as a place full of possibilities, and she wants to experience all of them. I get that, I do. But we can't live our lives on the edge like that, especially with the kind of enemies I've made over the years."

The therapist nodded, her gaze thoughtful. "It's a delicate balance, isn't it? Wanting to keep your family safe and also allowing them the freedom to live their lives fully. How have you been managing this?"

Bruce's smile grew a bit wistful. "Well, my wife is also the lively part of our lives. Without her, the manor would be just a fortress, not a home. She brings laughter and light to every room she enters. She's the one who convinced me to let Tim build a skateboard ramp in the garage, and even though it's a hazard to my cars, I can't help but smile when I hear them all out there, having fun."

The therapist nodded, understanding the complexity of the situation. "It sounds like you appreciate her spirit, but it's important to establish boundaries to ensure everyone's safety. Have you tried discussing the potential dangers with her?"

Bruce leaned back, his eyes drifting to the floor. "I've tried," he admitted. "But she's… she's like a tornado of love and enthusiasm. It's hard to say no to her."

The therapist nodded, her expression understanding. "It's clear you care deeply for her and the boys. Perhaps it's time to find a way to channel that enthusiasm into safer outlets."

"I know," Bruce said, running a hand through his hair. "But she's so… so alive. It's like trying to cage a butterfly."

The therapist nodded. "It's not about caging her, Bruce. It's about guiding her. Teaching her and the boys to weigh risks and rewards. To channel their energy into something positive without endangering themselves or others."

Bruce sat in silence, contemplating her words. He knew she was right, but it was easier said than done when it came to his vibrant wife. Her zest for life was both infectious and overwhelming at times. He thought back to the street carnival she had organized. The look of joy on the citizens' faces as they played games and ate cotton candy was something he hadn't seen in Gotham in a long time.

"There not all bad," he murmured, a small smile playing on his lips. "Her impulses have led to some amazing moments, too."

"Like what?" the therapist prompted, her curiosity piqued.

Bruce's smile grew as he recalled a recent incident. "Last week, she found out about a fundraising event for an underfunded children's hospital. Without asking, she decided to host a masquerade ball at the manor. She convinced Alfred to help, and together they transformed the place into a fairy tale. The kids had the time of their lives, and we ended up raising a fortune for those kids."

The therapist returned his smile. "That does sound wonderful. It seems her spontaneity has its benefits."

Bruce nodded. "It does. But it's also a double-edged sword. I want to support her, but I also need to keep everyone safe."

The therapist leaned back in her chair. "Communication is key, Bruce. It's about expressing your concerns without squashing her spirit. Have you tried talking to her about how her impulsiveness affects you?"

Bruce sighed, his eyes reflecting the weight of his words. "I've tried, but she takes it personally. She thinks I'm trying to control her."

The therapist nodded, her expression empathetic. "It's a common misconception. Setting boundaries isn't about control; it's about care and safety. Have you framed it that way?"

Bruce furrowed his brow. "I'm not sure. I've usually approached it from the perspective of the danger it could pose to the boys."

"It's important to express your feelings," the therapist said. "Tell her how her actions affect you and why you worry. It might help her understand your perspective better."

Bruce nodded slowly, considering her advice. It was true; he hadn't shared his own fears with her, only the potential risks to the boys. Perhaps that was where he was going wrong.

"Thank you, doctor," he said, rising from his chair. "I'll think about what you've said."

The therapist stood and offered a warm smile. "Remember, Bruce, it's about balance. And sometimes, that means taking a risk to find it."

Bruce nodded, her words echoing in his mind as he left the office and stepped into the Gotham night. The city was alive with the pulse of its inhabitants, a stark contrast to the calmness he'd just left behind. His thoughts were racing, trying to find a way to bridge the gap between his need for security and his wife's boundless spirit.

As he drove back to Wayne Manor, the grandeur of the estate came into view, the gothic architecture a stark contrast to the chaos of the city beyond its gates. The manor was more than just a home; it was a bastion of hope in a city that desperately needed it. The lights were on in the windows, a warm glow that promised sanctuary from the cold outside.

When he walked in, the smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air. You was in the kitchen, humming to yourself as you pulled a tray out of the oven. You turned to him, your face lighting up with a smile that never failed to melt his heart. "Hi, honey! How was your day?"

Bruce took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation he knew he had to have. "It was… interesting," he said, trying to keep his tone light. "How about yours?"

"Oh, you know," you replied with a shrug, placing the cookies on a rack to cool. "Just the usual—keeping the boys out of trouble, planning the next big surprise for them." you winked at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Bruce felt a twinge of both fondness and dread. He knew that look all too well. It was the look you got when she had another harebrained scheme up your sleeve. He walked over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into an embrace. "How about we talk about these surprises together from now on?"

You tilted your head back, your smile fading a bit. "What do you mean?"

Bruce took a deep breath. "I mean, I know you love surprising the boys, and I love that about you. But sometimes, your surprises have… unintended consequences. I want to be there to support you, but I also need to make sure everyone is safe."

You leaned back, looking up at him with a slightly defensive expression. "Not all of my surprises turn out bad," you said, your voice a bit softer than before.

Bruce felt his heart squeeze at the sight of you, flour smudged on your cheek and apron, looking so earnest. He gave a tight smile, trying to ease the tension. But his face was screaming, "Are you sure?"

You took a step back, "Okay, okay, maybe most of them," you conceded. "But the good ones make up for it, right?"

Bruce sighed, his arms dropping to his sides. "They do," he agreed. "But it's the potential for danger that I can't ignore. And not just for the boys, but for you too."

You rolled your eyes, brushing off the flour on your apron. "Me? I'm fine. I can handle myself."

Bruce's grip on your shoulders tightened slightly. "You know what I mean," he said, his voice serious. "How many times have you ended up in the hospital because of one of your… adventures?"

You winced, remembering the last time you had tried to rescue a cat stuck in a tree, only to end up with a broken arm and a bruised ego. "Okay, okay," you repeated, holding up your hands in surrender. "I get it. I can be a bit… much."

Bruce's expression softened, his eyes searching yours. "You're not 'much', you're amazing. I just don't want to lose you."

You took a deep breath, the weight of his words settling in. "I know," you said, your voice small. "But what about you? You're not much different, Bruce. Maybe even worse. You go out every night as Batman, risking your life."

He stepped back, his expression unreadable. "That's different," he said firmly. "That's for the city."

"Is it?" you asked, looking up at him with a hint of challenge in your eyes. "Or is it because you've convinced yourself that it's your duty? That you're the only one who can do it?"

Bruce's jaw tightened at your question. It was a fair point, one he'd wrestled with in the quiet moments of his life. He knew that his crusade as Batman was driven by his own fears and the need to keep the city that had taken his parents safe. But he also knew that the stakes were higher for him than they were for you.

"I've been trained for that," he said finally. "You… you have the biggest heart in the world, but sometimes you don't think about the risks."

You nodded, looking down at the cookies cooling on the rack. "I know," you murmured. "But it's just so hard to resist when I see something that could bring joy to people, especially the boys."

Bruce stepped closer, placing a gentle hand on your cheek. "I know your heart's in the right place," he said. "But we can't keep playing Russian roulette with our lives, not when we have so much to lose. I don't want to lose you. Or see you get hurt. I'm just asking, please, consider the risks before you act. And come to me, talk to me, let's find a way to make this work."

You searched his eyes, the gravity of his words sinking in. You knew he wasn't trying to stifle you; he was just worried. "Okay," you whispered, leaning into his touch. "I'll try."

Bruce's expression relaxed a bit, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Thank you," he said softly. "Now, how about we sit down and talk about what's been on your mind? Maybe we can come up with some ideas together."

You nodded, swiping a strand of hair from your forehead. "Alright, I'll finish up on the cookies and then we can talk. Until then, want to help? Just to make sure I don't hurt myself?"

Bruce couldn't help but chuckle at your attempt to lighten the mood. "Sure," he said, taking the spatula from your hand. "Let's do this together."

As you both worked side by side in the kitchen, the tension began to ease. You chatted about the different flavors of cookies and which ones the boys would like best, while Bruce carefully placed the finished ones on a plate. The rhythm of your conversation was soothing, and it reminded him of the first time he had met you—how your laugh had filled a room and made him feel alive again.

[niteskysx]

(A continuation from my last fic)

Stepbrother! Nicholas Chavez x Reader x Stepbrother! Cooper Koch

Your role in this family was… complicated. When your adoptive parents brought you into the family, they thought giving their boys a little sister would be a wonderful idea. A picture-perfect family, they said.

What they didn’t realize was that their sons were far from perfect.

At first, Nicholas seemed like the kind of older brother anyone would want— charming, protective, and confident. With the exception of some anger issues, of course.

He said he’d help you with boys. He’d give advice, tease you harmlessly, and make you smile. But as the both of you grew older, that teasing shifted into somewhat of a darker nature.

In the teaching and teasing, he would start making these odd requests and try to convince you the best he could.

“I want to try something new with my girlfriend, but I need to make sure I don’t screw it up with her, I- I really love her you know… Can I try it on you first? Just to see how it feels? Just this once?”

You hesitated first, of course, but you were just helping, right? You were family. It was all innocent, wasn’t it? Just a favor for your stepbrother.

The first time you gave in, you told yourself it was harmless. But once that line was crossed, it was like he’d broken a lock.

The requests kept getting bolder and things started escalating into more intense exchanges.

He’d pull you aside, or take you to his room, and say he needed your help again. That it was “important.”That he loved his girlfriend too much to risk losing her.

Nicholas was a person that could get angry very quickly. When things didn’t go his way, he would be frustrated or get mad quick and needed a way to blow off steam fast.

Eventually, he started using you as a stress-reliever.

Whenever Nicholas felt bored, frustrated, or just needed to “relax,” he’d call you into his room. He’d claim it was harmless but he needed your help to blow off steam.

“You wouldn’t want to ruin the only family you have, would you?” He would say.

It’s not like you wanted him to continue with what he was doing— but sometimes, just, sometimes, you found yourself craving it. Craving him. Like a classic horny virgin, just so desperately waiting for the next time he’d teach you something new. You hated yourself for it, for wanting him like this, especially knowing that with each time you allowed him closer, you were indirectly betraying the only family you had ever known. But in those moments, as much as you tried, you couldn’t stop yourself. The minute he touched you, you melted— You couldn’t deny the way you looked forward to him, even as the guilt was suffocating you immensely.

Cooper, on the other hand, played the part of the sweet, caring brother. He didn’t seem to know the full extent of what went down between you and Nicholas, but you could tell he had an idea. He’d glance at you sometimes, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name— concern, guilt, maybe even jealousy. He’d ask if you were okay, with his angelic gentle tone that he has, but his questions only made you more anxious.

Even with Cooper, things didn’t feel entirely “brother-like.” His glances always lingered on you a moment too long, his touch lingering in ways that felt just a bit too intimate, like when his fingers brushed yours at the dinner table when you asked him to pass the bread. And that tension. That unspoken tension between the two of you that rises whenever you are left in a room together, alone.

You felt trapped by the both of them. Mentally, physically, emotionally….

The lines between right and wrong started to blur for you everyday and you couldn’t think right. You just kept sinking deeper and deeper into their control— intentionally or unintentionally.

You found yourself sitting close to Nicholas again— you could feel his fingers trail down your arm, his breath warm against your skin. You wanted to get away, you knew you had to get away, but you couldn’t… It was like he had you under some kind of unspoken spell that couldn’t be broken. He was leaning in, looking at your lips, about to do what you think he was about to do when—

The door flew open.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

“Hey—oh,” Cooper’s voice cut through the tension like a blade. He froze in the doorway, his expression shifting from surprise to something unreadable.

Nick jerked back, his jaw clenching as he turned to glare at his younger brother. “What the hell are you doing?”

Cooper blinked, recovering quickly. “I was going to ask her if she wanted to watch a movie,” he said, his tone calm but his eyes flickering between the two of you. “But I can see I interrupted something.”

“You think?” Nick snapped.

Your heart was racing a million miles an hour. “I—I was just heading to bed,” you stammered, trying to escape the situation.

Cooper didn’t budge from the doorway, he just kept glaring, eyes locked on Nick’s. “Maybe you should give her some space, Nicholas. You know, let her breathe for once.”

You didn’t expect Cooper to say that. At all.

You could feel how mad Nick was getting. This wasn’t good.

“Stay out of it, Coop. This doesn’t concern you.”

“It does when you’re acting like a—” Cooper stopped himself, glancing at your innocent face before finishing. “Just… back off, okay?”

Nick took a step toward his brother.. “You don’t tell me what to do. Got it?”

“Someone has to,” Cooper shot back, his calm demeanor cracking. “She’s not your plaything, Nicholas.”

What was happening wasn’t good and you needed to figure out a way to stop this before things escalated. You quickly stepped between them before things could escalate.

“Stop it—both of you,” you said, your voice shaking but firm. “I don’t want any of this. I’m going to my room.”

You rushed out of there as soon as possible. You couldn’t take whatever “this” was. It was just too much for you to handle.

Nick watched you leave as you left his room, turning from frustrated to something softer. Sadder. But only for a brief moment before hardening his expression to bitter ‘ol Nicholas again. “Fine. Whatever,” he muttered, dropping into the chair beside his bed.

He shot a glance at Cooper, waving him off lazily.

“You can go now, too.”

Cooper gave Nick one last angry glance before he turned to leave.

As he stepped into the hallway, he could see that your door was slightly open and he peeked through that little space to see you sitting on the edge of your bed, holding yourself.

Hesitant at first, but he knocks lightly on your door and steps inside. “Hey,” he said, his voice gentler than ever. “You okay?”

You nodded, though your hands were still trembling. “I’m fine. Thanks for… everything.”

He gave you a small smile. “Someone has to look out for you.”

Before you could respond, he hesitated, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. “If you ever need anything, just… let me know, okay?”

You nodded again, not adding anything else. He turned and quietly closed the door behind him.

When you were left alone with your thoughts, you were trying to process everything that just happened. What did just happen? In fact, what HAS been happening? I mean— this is not like you at all! You’re a good girl, like mom and dad say. You have always been a good girl… Kissing your step brother? Nicholas—? Seriously? The boy who gets off on torturing and teasing his stepsister? He doesn’t even really like you! He just uses you— why are you STILL letting him get close to you like that and then let him treat you like trash the rest of the time? And what was that fight? Over YOU? No way. This all feels like a very, VERY bad dream that you need to wake up from.

You sighed and collapsed onto your bed, burying your face in your hands.

Just sleep it off… just… sleep… it… off.

Things will be normal tomorrow…. Right?

For @blackynsupremacy 🙊💋

[bearforcecaptions]

The spell worked, sort of, but not how I wanted. I did have the body of my dreams – I was Garrett now, but I didn’t realize the catch was that I wouldn’t be able to control what I’m doing unless I’m totally alone. And Garrett, or, me, I guess – I’m nearly never alone! The frat house pretty much always has someone in it, and I’m super popular, too. I thought being Garrett would be fun and easy, but stuck like this, it’s torture!

I figured out the ritual from this old book I found at that occult shop downtown, thinking it would be a quick way out of my boring life and into something… well, something way more interesting. Garrett had it all, or so I thought. Girls loved him, he was in the best shape, and everyone wanted to be his friend. But nobody told me about this weird restriction, or maybe I just didn’t read that part carefully enough. I guess the idea was I’d “experience” Garrett’s life, but it’s like watching a movie, except I’m the star and I can only move on my own terms when no one else is around.

And god, my roommate, he’s actually so stupid. When I can’t control my actions, we bro out all the time, but he’s so vapid. I guess I’m not much better, but it’s actually infuriating. You’d think we could have a conversation that’s not about girls, parties, sports, or video games. But no, every time he starts talking, it’s like Garrett’s body just falls right into the rhythm of it, responding automatically. I tried fighting it at first, but it’s like this autopilot takes over, and I’m just... stuck.

I’ve been scouring the room whenever I get a chance to control things, like right now, looking for any sign or clue on how to undo this. There has to be something I missed. I rummaged through his messy closet, which is packed with clothes, gym stuff, and random junk, none of it useful. The guy keeps his stuff in total chaos, and I feel weirdly exposed, like I’m actually pawing through my own things.

Shit, no, is that the door jangling? I thought I would have a couple of hours to try and figure out how to fix this. Who the hell knows when I’ll get another chan-

Fuuck, bro. Why’s my roomie home early? Thought he went to his ‘rents for the weekend. I was just about to jerk one out too. Ah well, maybe he’ll be down for some Call of Duty or something. I could use a beer.

“Yo, dude, what’s up? You back already?” I say, grinning like an idiot as I lean against the door frame, flexing a bit without even realizing it. Dude probably thinks I’m just chillin’, but nah, I’m feelin' like a boss.

He laughs, dropping his bag by the door and shrugging. “Yeah, man, got bored at home. Figured I’d head back early. Parents were driving me nuts.”

“Oh, for sure, dude,” I nod, grabbing a can of beer from the mini-fridge by my bed. “Parents, am I right? They just don’t get it, bro.” I crack it open, chugging half of it in one go, feeling the cool rush. Damn, that’s good.

He slaps my shoulder, laughing. “Dude, I swear, it’s like every time I go back, it’s the same speech about responsibility and blah blah blah. Like, whatever, right?”

“Oh, totally, man,” I laugh, shrugging it off. “Why they gotta be like that, y’know? We’re just out here living, they don’t get it.” I toss him a beer, feeling that chill vibe kickin’ in, like nothing in the world matters but just hanging with my bro. This is what it’s all about – no worries, no drama, just cold beers and good times.

“Bro, I’m feelin’ a COD sesh,” I say, grabbing the controller off the couch. “You down?”

He grins. “Hell yeah, let’s wreck some noobs.”

We crash down on the couch, controllers in hand, beers in easy reach, and it’s like all the worries in the world just melt away. I’m trash-talkin’, throwin’ down taunts, and we’re both laughing so hard my sides hurt. I don’t even remember the last time I felt this alive.

“You’re so bad, dude,” I laugh, jabbing him in the ribs as I get another kill. “How are you still this bad?”

“Shut up, bro!” he shoves me back, laughing too, and I’m grinning like an idiot.

Fuck, life is good, I think, as I take a gulp of my beer. I got my bros, I got my beer, and I got my games. What more does a dude need? Life’s good.

[faithshouseofchaos]

Leaving it all Behind (LIAB) series

I’m going to be a father? — max verstappen x reader

Leaving it all behind series one shot part three

Word count — 591

Fluff

It started as a suspicion—a tiny inkling that maybe, just maybe, something was different. Y/N had been feeling off for a few days, small things that she would normally brush off as nothing. But today, as she glanced at the calendar, her heart skipped a beat. She was late.

Trying not to get ahead of herself, Y/N went to the pharmacy, her mind buzzing with a mix of excitement and nerves as she picked up a pregnancy test. She hurried home, her hands trembling slightly as she set the test down on the bathroom counter. After what felt like an eternity, she glanced down at the result, her heart pounding.

A wave of joy and disbelief washed over her. She sat there in the quiet of the bathroom, staring at the test, a hand over her mouth as she processed the news. She was going to be a mom, and Max… he was going to be a dad.

Once the initial shock faded, a giddy excitement bubbled up inside her. She wanted to tell Max in a way that would be meaningful—a moment they’d remember forever. She thought of the garage, where Max spent most of his time. She knew exactly how she wanted to tell him.

The next day, after Max left for work, Y/N headed to a local store and bought a tiny pair of baby shoes—a pair of soft, cream-colored booties that seemed perfect for the moment. When she got home, she carefully tucked the booties into a small gift box, sealing it with a note that read, “Can’t wait to meet you, Daddy.” She placed it on the passenger seat of Max’s truck, knowing he’d find it at the end of the day.

That evening, Max came home with a look of confusion, holding the small box in his hand. Y/N watched him closely, biting her lip to contain her excitement as he opened it. The moment his eyes landed on the tiny shoes, he froze. His gaze flickered to her, a mix of surprise and awe on his face.

“Y/N… are you serious?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

She nodded, her eyes filling with happy tears as she moved closer. “I found out yesterday. We’re going to be parents, Max.”

Max’s expression softened as the news sank in. A wide smile broke across his face, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. She could feel his heart racing, his breaths quick and filled with emotion as he tried to process what this meant for them.

“We’re… we’re really doing this,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe. “A family. Our family.”

Y/N laughed, her arms wrapping around his neck as she held him close. “Yes, our family. Can you believe it?”

Max pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes shining with love and gratitude. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but I swear I’ll be the best dad I can be.”

They spent the rest of the evening talking, dreaming about their future as parents, and wondering who their child would take after. Max, who was usually so tough and guarded, couldn’t stop smiling, his hand drifting to her stomach with a gentle reverence that made Y/N’s heart melt.

In that moment, in the quiet of their little home, they felt more than just love—they felt a sense of wholeness, a new beginning, as they looked forward to the life they were about to welcome into their world.

[outrunningthedark]

On Tina that mid season finale pissed you off 😭😭

As soon as the 'handcap' comment came out of that kid's mouth I probably should have changed the channel. 😶 I think I'm more frustrated than pissed, tbh. I'm frustrated that the fandom continues to mischaracterize Chris and misinterpret scenes that involve the grandparents because they remind people of their own parents or something idk. I'm frustrated that Tim had the plan to send Eddie to Texas since the start of the season and the father-son relationship had to suffer for it because if Eddie went to Texas "too early" there's not that ~suspense~ at the beginning of 8B as to whether he's really going and for how long. I'm frustrated that the show tried to be "funny" about a suicide attempt, and did so in front of Bobby, the guy who could have accidentally killed himself while under the influence. I'm frustrated that Madney has felt like they might as well not be there at times, and now the upcoming serial killer arc is probably going to the thing that sends them both (?) away to accommodate Jennifer's filming commitments. I'm frustrated that arcs were fast forwarded to make room for....Brad. I'm frustrated that the Brad arc was even able to be pushed to the mid-season finale because of Tim extending the plane emergency to one more episode, shortening the amount of time for everything else in an EIGHT EPISODE starter. Not 9. Not 10. 8. (As others have said) I'm frustrated that Buck is obviously going to "spiral" over Maddie, have to be without her for a bit - maybe Chimney, too - and also deal with his best friend wanting to relocate to another state, which is why any kind of serious relationship would not "make sense" right now anyway. Buck wouldn't be so quick to decline if he had someone to lean on every day, someone he trusted. (The fact that Tommy is gone while Taylor stayed through the struggle in s5 should show you the difference in how the two relationships impacted Buck's life, lol. Tommy was a positive influence. Taylor...not so much!) So, yeah. I'm frustrated. By a lot of things. But mostly? I'm frustrated that we're watching the show die in real time.

[woodywood101blog]

Experimental: Postpartum

It was a rough 24 hours following the birth of the babies, but the quick-thinking duo of Mike and Anna were able to rapidly stabilise the internal bleeding resulting from Yazan’s body rejecting the uterus. Randy barely got any sleep as he stayed by Yazan’s bedside to make sure he and the babies were okay. The team fed Yazan through a drip to ensure that he could produce milk for the babies. Randy helped get the breast pumps set up to feed the babies by bottle.

After a week in a medically induced coma, the team decided to try and wake up Yazan. In what could only be described as a miracle, Yazan woke up. He groaned and turned to face Randy. Randy tightly gripped Yazan’s hands as he burst into tears. “Oh my god, Yaz! You scared me for a hot minute!”

“Wh-where’s my babies?” Yazan looked down at his breasts being pumped and his smaller belly and rapidly looked around the room.

“Yaz, your babies are alright. They’re in the nursery next door. We can bring them in.”

Yazan started crying intensely as he realised just how close he was to never being able to see his kids that he grew so attached to over the months. Randy got up and hugged Yazan tightly, kissing his head as they both cried together. “You’re alright, babe.”

After a further two weeks at the RPA, the team provided clearance for Yazan and the babies to be discharged. All four of the babies passed their tests with flying colours, which Randy had great pleasure in running. Yazan felt sore from both being in a coma and as his body started to readjust back to a vague presentation of itself before he got pregnant.

“Hey, before you go, I just have something I need to sort out with you. Can we talk privately?” Mike said to Yazan. They walked towards a courtyard table and sat, Yazan groaning as he tried to contort his legs to sit.

“You are one incredible man, you know that right? I truly cannot believe how incredibly strong and courageous you are. Take away the history of being the first man to successfully carry children to term, you are now a father to four beautiful children. And that man over there,” Mike said as he pointed towards Randy. “That man loves everything about you. He literally did not leave your bedside until we forced him to go back to the apartment to ‘grab things’. He ran all the tests and did all the feedings of the babies. That is true love right there.”

Yazan glanced back at Randy, who was holding a coffee while chatting with Anna. Randy looked back and smiled at Yazan.

“I can’t be a barrier to true love. So, I spoke with a family lawyer, and I’m going to get the process started on relinquishing my parental responsibilities. I have also arranged for Randy to speak with another lawyer to get the ball rolling on getting the kids American passports, because technically your kids are just Australians at the moment.”

Yazan looked up at Mike and quietly said, “Thank you. I am so sorry for being an asshole.”

“I’ll blame the hormones, it’s fine.” Mike and Yazan chuckled as they sipped their cups of coffee.

***

After a couple more weeks of interviews, urgent Family Court hearings and interviews at the United States Consulate in Sydney, Yazan was granted sole parental responsibility of the four kids, and the four kids were granted American citizenship. From there, it was just a matter of getting the kids back to the United States to start their new life together, alongside Randy.

Randy relished the opportunity to be a father, and took a strong lead in supporting Yazan to settle into a routine. This also included selling his apartment downtown and moving in with Yazan to the newly expanded family home. Randy did a lot of the day chores, like cleaning, cooking and bills, while Yazan focused on feeding the babies and other odd bits of chores as needed.

Yazan awkwardly had to explain to the hospital’s HR that he needed to move to part-time work as he had four babies to look after. His cause was not helped when his breasts started to leak milk during the meeting. However, he managed to arrange 3 full months of leave, and would slowly transition back to 3 days a week. Randy also took two weeks paternity leave, which he was surprised HR agreed to.

Over the days and weeks, Yazan and Randy found their groove as they settled into their new life with Anna, Michael, Tanner and Richard. Yazan chose Anna and Michael to recognise the incredible support they gave during the birth, and Randy chose Tanner and Richard after other close colleagues at work.

They never truly explained to friends what happened. However, their friend Tanner was clued into Yazan’s growing belly, but never commented in fear it was just regular weight gain. Yazan quietly told Tanner the full story over lunch one day as he brought the kids in to see his haematology colleagues, plus Randy.

***

Yazan was getting himself ready one morning before the kids woke up, and sighed as he looked in the mirror. His entire body had transformed from the muscular hunk he was known to be at the hospital to an overweight man with actual breasts that needed to be pumped to avoid unexpected leakages. He started to wonder whether he could ever get his pre-baby body back.

As Yazan walked out of the bedroom and into the living room, Randy noticed Yazan’s demeanour.

“Hey, babe, how are you feeling today?”

“I feel disgusting today.”

“What brought that feeling?”

“I just.. I mean, look at me! I’m a fucking cow with full-grown double-D tits. I still look like I’m pregnant and I just… I just want this to go back to normal.”

Randy stood up and slowly walked towards Yazan, who felt ashamed.

“I know I should be proud because my body went through so much to bring these kids into the world, and I get to sustain life with these breasts, but I’m not a man anymore. I’m just… a baby machine!”

Randy chuckled as he hugged Yazan tightly, kissing him on the forehead. “Rightio, Yaz. As you said, you have gone through so much. And you know what, you’re alive, the kids are alive, and if the price to pay at the moment is that you have some love handles, is that really the end of the world?”

“No…”

“Right. I love you, Yaz. I love all of you, every nook and crevice. And yes, I even love your belly and your tits. Why? Because you are so much stronger than any other man on Earth. You have literally done what no other man has done: bring new life. That is beyond incredible, babe! Heck, if I could, I would.”

“Don’t say that too loudly, I still have Mike’s number.”

“You get the point! I love you and I will be there for you, regardless of how you look or how you’ve changed or what’s happened. You are who I want to be with for my whole life.”

Yazan raised an eyebrow as he saw Randy step back and bend down on one knee.

“Randy.. What are you doing?”

“Look, I don’t have a ring, but I’ll ask anyway: I love you, Yazan. I want to spend the rest of my life with you… Yazan, will you marry me?”

Yazan’s eyes widened as he realised what Randy just asked. He beamed and quietly screamed out “Yes!”. As he ran towards Randy to hug and kiss, they heard the baby monitor squeal with the four babies awake.

***

Six months later, Yazan and Randy managed to tie the knot. They didn’t want to wait much longer, and didn’t necessarily care for a lot of the formalities, given the unconventional nature of how they became a family, so it was fairly easy to arrange the wedding at a civil registry, and then arrange a low-key dinner with friends, family and other loved ones.

They invited Mike and Anna to come along from Australia to the ceremony. They were delighted to be invited, and eagerly accepted a separate invite from Yazan to come to their place and see the kids.

As Anna was holding up baby Anna, Mike got to chatting with Randy and Yazan. “So, we have some news from the research side of things. The university provisionally approved further research.”

“Oh, amazing! That’s good to hear.” Randy said.

“Yeah, it was a bit stressful trying to explain at a high level what happened, but the university saw the merit in continuing the research into the hormone supplements to see what sort of expanded uses it could help with. And, Yazan, you’d be pleased to know that the research approval had nothing to do with your pregnancy.”

“Wait, what? How?” Yazan was confused.

“Well… I hadn’t actually told anyone at the time, but when you were being discharged from hospital, I was actually 12 weeks pregnant.”

Randy and Yazan’s eyes widened in shock. Mike pulled out his phone to show his lock screen photo. It showed a small baby girl. “This is Shayna.” Randy and Yazan joyfully hugged Mike as Mike started to tear up in happiness too.

“I’ve been doing this research for years because I so desperately wanted to have a child of my own. My dream has come true.” Mike said through tears.

***

A year later, the four kids had grown into their own distinct personalities. Anna was the boss and had no hesitation in getting her brothers to do what she wanted. Michael was inquisitive, always waddling around the house looking for something exciting to do. Tanner was quieter, sometimes in his own world, but always happy and joyful. And Richard was energetic, always running around the house and making Yazan and Randy’s lives busier than it already was.

As they settled the four kids into bed, Yazan and Randy slid onto the sofa and sighed.

Randy sighed, “Ahh, isn’t this bliss? The kids are asleep, the house is clean, everyone is fed, and I now have a nice glass of red.”

“Yep, cheers to that.” Yazan replied as they clinked their glasses. “Hey babe, I was thinking today…”

“You know I don’t like it when you start phrases like that!”

“Randy, you’ll like this idea! I was thinking… about seeing whether Mike was really correct about the uterus and ovary being fully-functional?”

“Huh, what?”

“You know how I vented that the magic salt -”

“The hormonal supplements?”

“Yes, the hormonal supplements caused me to grow a fully-functioning uterus and ovary… I was wondering whether you wanted to see if that hypothesis was correct?”

“Are you saying you want another child?”

“In other words, yes.”

Randy scooched over towards Yazan and sensually kissed his lips. “I’ve been wondering whether you would ever say yes to having another child.”

Yazan moaned, “I want you to breed me with your kid, or kids.”

They slowly took each other’s shirts off and continued to make out on their sofa. We’ll clean this up tomorrow, Yazan thought as he took his shorts off and prepared to take Randy’s dick once again in his manpussy.

***

One lazy Saturday morning, Yazan was sitting at the dining table, making sure the kids ate their scrambled eggs and toast. Randy turned around with two plates filled with a classic Yazan breakfast: scrambled eggs, bacon, avocado, salt and pepper and toast.

As Randy put the plate of food down in front of Yazan, Yazan’s nose twitched. He felt a sudden wave of nausea.

“Babe, are you o-”

Yazan ran to the closest bathroom and vomited into the toilet. Randy quickly calmed the kids down then moved across to Yazan in the bathroom. He knocked on the door. “Babe? Are you okay?”

Yazan groaned. Randy opened the door and saw Yazan sitting near the toilet bowl, looking worse for wear.

“Should I run past the pharmacist and get a test?”

The End

Note from Woody: Just want to send a massive thank you to everyone for their lovely words and motivation to get this over the line. It's been a labour of love, so to speak... In particular, a massive thank you to @bigmpregnm for both the morphs and the support!

[bowsnkisses]

𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬

matt sturniolo x ice skater!fem!reader

𓂃 ࣪˖ ཐིཋྀ You and Matt have a love-hate relationship... too bad that you have to see each other almost every day, since you are his little sister's coach.

warning: a little angst(?), matt is a little asshole, bestfriends to enemies to lovers trope.

a/n: this was really quick but i hope you like it ;) i think im gonna make this a series idk chat; english its not my first language!!! sorry for the mistakes.

Matt parked the car and turned off the radio, he sighed and looked in the rearview mirror where his little sister, Rosie, had fallen asleep on the way to her ice skating practice. Her head was resting on her jacket, she made a 'pillow' by wrapped the jacket between the door and her shoulder. Matt couldn't help but smile a little.

She started ice skating a few months ago and was amazed. She was always very excited to get to her practices and whenever they finished she would get sad. And the reason for that, was you.

Rosie loved spending time with you and always paying attention to you with her big, blue and curious eyes. And she always repeated how pretty you were to his parents and brothers.

Matt, specifically, knew who you were for many years. You were best friends in elementary school until mid-high school, and you guys stopped talking because he became 'too popular' to be spending time with you, his words. Then a year later, the YouTube channel with his brothers, Chris and Nick, blew up and none of you knew about each other until Rosie, for her 10th birthday, begged her parents to sign her up for Ice Skating classes.

And here you were, seeing each other every day...

Matt always treating you dry and never avoiding rolling his eyes every time you spoke. And you, just wanting to punch him in the face and never see him again.

While Matt was a total asshole with you. Rosie was the total opposite.

"Rosie... bub, we are here." Matt moved her knee gently to wake her up.

"mmhm" She muttered opening her eyes and then rubbing them. Matt got out of the car and walked to her door to get her bag and help her get out of the car.

Once that was done, and Rosie couldn't contain her excitement to seeing you. Running and jumping while Matt almost fell with the pink bag.

When you guys enter to the rink, the little girl screamed with joy when she saw you. Matt made a face and you did too, but that was gone when she hugged your legs.

"Alright alright, someone its excited" You said while laughing at the little girl excitement.

—

Two hours had already passed and Matt was already getting tired of listening to you repeat the same thing over and over again. Once you did for final the class, Matt almost shouted hallelujah to the ceiling. He was getting tired.

And so were you, his annoying and exaggerated sighs for you to hear, every time you looked at him and he rolled his eyes... making sure you knew he was pissed. You couldn't give a big fuck, but it was the same in all the classes he brought Rosie.

And you were getting tired of his attitude.

When the girls went to one side of the blichers to untie their shoes. You took the opportunity to go straight to Matt.

When he saw you approaching him, he couldn't help but smirk a little.

"If this is too boring for you, I think is better for you to stop bringing Rosie. You are really distracting." You said while crossing your arma on your chest.

"Maybe you shouldn't be looking at me all the time and start paying more attention to your students. Some of them really need to perfect some skills" He said with a cocky smirk that almost made you throw up.

Before you could respond, Rosie approached with her shoes in her hand. Basically screaming with her eyes without saying anything to one of you guys to help her change her shows.

"I'll do it" Murmured to kneel and help his little sister.

You just roll your eyes in annoyed without Rosie to see.

Hoping that tomorrow it would be her parents who brought Rosie and not Matt.

sorry if this a completely shit.

btw the filter of the photos i got it from this beauty @sirenedeslily 🫶🏼

let me know if you want more parts :P or more introductions of the characters <3

₊˚ପ⊹ © 𝑏𝑜𝑤𝑠𝑛𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠; all rights reserved. do not translate my work without my permission.

[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 30

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 4319

Warnings: Dean being Dean, navigating being an empath, suggestive thoughts, longing, Fluff, Premonition, Bonding (This is something specifically for this AU. I do not see this as a "requirement" to fully connect to someone, but for this story, it is needed).

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 30

The following day, he woke before you, lying there just watching you sleep. He knew today would be filled with a lot, and right now, you needed your rest, and he needed this moment. There was nothing to worry about in the now. Right now, nothing troubled him, and you hadn’t had another nightmare. Dean allowed himself to lie there with you for nearly ten minutes before finally dragging himself away and to the kitchen. As soon as he had the coffee brewing, he began making phone calls, informing everyone of what Pamela had said. However, when he called Bobby, he gave him a piece of his mind for how things had gone.

“I’m sorry, Dean. It wasn’t like I knew that stuff would come up,” Bobby apologized for the third time, partially regretting having made the suggestion.

Dean sighed, running a hand down his face as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “I know. You didn’t see her, though. She was distant on the entire drive back here and I couldn’t feel any of her emotions through the connection.” Bobby leaned back in his seat, staring at the closed door of his office. “Is there anything I can do on my end for the two of you?”

Dean thought for a moment, “Yeah. Can you tell the boys they can throw me that surprise party the weekend after we can get out of here?” 

That made Bobby chuckle. “How’d you find out about that?” 

“Jack let it slip. That kid is still pretty innocent in some ways,” Dean replied, remembering back to that second month he was back when Jack had let just enough slip out about the surprise party.

“Yeah, I’ll let ‘em know,” Bobby replied, trying to push aside the growing concern that had come with Dean’s call. “Call if you need anything. We’re all here, for both of you.”

“Thanks. That means a lot to me,” Dean replied, utterly grateful for the support system in the outside world.

Dean poured himself another cup of coffee after he hung up. He’d already called Sam; that had been his first phone call, Bobby his last, and all the adults in between. “It’s gonna be a long day,” he mumbled through a sigh.

Stretching with your arms over your head, you let out a long yawn, the morning finally pulling you from a dreamless slumber. When your arm plopped in the spot Dean should have been, you looked over, a little confused. I didn’t sleep that late, did I?

Glancing at the clock, you chuckled to yourself. Almost nine, of course he’s already up. With a smile on your face, you climbed out of bed and headed into the kitchen. He was there, leaning against the counter, lost in thought. You smiled to yourself, knowing he hadn’t even noticed you yet. “Morning, handsome,” you cooed, stopping next to him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

Dean practically jumped out of his skin at your presence, his hand over his racing heart as he attempted to catch his breath. “Jesus, Sweetheart. You damn near gave me a heart attack,” he breathed out, wondering how you’d managed to sneak up on him.

GIggling, you poured yourself a cup of coffee, then sat down at the table so you could see him. Dean smirked. Oh, someone’s in a playful mood this morning. His whispered words in your mind made you giddy. You were in a playful mood, even though you knew that today was when you were going to share with him what Pamela had told you.

“Maybe,” you replied, drawing the word out, looking down at your coffee as a smile played with your lips. For a moment, you debated dashing to the living room, eyeing the couch briefly.

He set his cup down, enjoying the moment, and wondered just how playful you were feeling. Dean smirked mischievously as he pushed off the counter, slowly strolling toward you. Glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, you giggled quietly, unable to take a sip of your coffee. The anticipation of what he might do twisted nicely in your stomach.

“What’s the matter, nervous?” he teased, his tone going a little lower, making you take a shaky breath.

When he was only a couple of feet away and began taking another step, you squealed as he reached for you, then darted into the living room, laughter ensuing as he chased you. You dashed behind the couch, giving Dean an idea. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he was going to get a hold of you. The way your laughter mixed with his and filled the room was like a beautiful symphony. 

You slowly moved in the opposite direction he went, matching his pace until you were the one now in front of the couch, the coffee table directly behind you. In one swift motion, Dean not only went over the couch but also grabbed the front of your shirt firmly before falling back into the cushions. The squeal you let out as he pulled you onto his lap had him laughing with more amusement than he could contain. 

Dean wrapped his arms around your back, holding you firmly in place, unable to escape. You were laughing so hard that all you could do was rest your hands on his shoulders. The moment froze for Dean, feeling that pang of love that overflowed, threatening to slip from his eyes, but he held it back. As your laughter slowly subsided, you rested your head on his shoulder, evening out your breathing again. “That was fun,” you told him through light chuckles, remembering the way he had eyed you, your breath warm against his neck.

“Yeah, it was,” he sighed contently, rubbing your back with one hand while holding you close with the other. “I love hearing your laughter.”

You debated between telling him everything Pamela had said or just giving him what you had initially planned on saving for his birthday. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be intimate with him, something about it just scared you.

Don’t go getting lost in your head again. The way his words whispered through your mind made you chuckle, sitting up so you could look at him. “And what if I like getting lost in my thoughts, huh?” you asked playfully, not quite ready to let go of the joy the playfulness brought.

He raised an eyebrow, but you saw that glint in his eyes, knowing he was already plotting something as his grip around you slowly tightened. Dean just didn’t want you to get away just yet. “What’s more interesting than you straddling my lap?” he asked as the smirk on his lips began forming.

You leaned a little closer, being just as playful, “Thoughts of you.” 

Woman, I swear… A low groan, almost inaudible, rumbled in his chest as one of his hands came up and tangled in your hair behind your neck, holding your head. It was a gentle gesture, but sent a shiver down your entire body. “Sweetheart, do you have any,” he gently gripped your hip, pulling you down against him as he lightly bucked his hips up, grinding against you, “idea what you do to me?” 

You hadn’t even realized just how turned on he was until you felt the bulge in his pants rub against your core through your clothes, making you bite your lip. “I didn’t mean to, really,” you told him honestly, and a little shyly. It wasn’t like you were completely ignorant. You just hadn’t done anything with anyone, so you weren’t entirely sure of the things that turned men on, let alone Dean.

Dean gave you a soft smile. He knew you hadn’t intended to turn him on. “I know. It’s why I didn’t just kiss you. I know you aren’t ready. I don’t know why, and you don’t have to explain it to me. I’ll be here, when you’re ready.” Then he leaned closer, leaving a tender kiss on your lips, staying there only a few moments before he pulled away, fighting every urge coursing through his body.

The pout that found your lips at least made him chuckle, but you still felt bad and figured now was as good a time as any to talk to him. Carefully, you climbed off his lap, sitting on the couch next to him, cross-legged and facing him.

After adjusting himself, he turned a bit so that he was facing you, although he wasn’t entirely sure what topic you wanted to talk about. He was trying not to think about kissing you, touching you, and loving you, which was nearly impossible after he’d pulled you down onto his lap. That one he took full responsibility for.

You took one more deep breath, letting it out slowly. It was bad enough that your thoughts were on Dean rather than the topic you wanted to broach, but having his desire mix with your own was making it that much more difficult.

“Okay, so yesterday. Pamela told me a lot, and there are still some things I’m not sure about, but I promised I’d tell you.” It seemed like a decent place to start. “She said that the reason you got sick was because my fear went through the connection we have.” Dean looked at you, a little puzzled, “But, you’ve been afraid before, and it never hit me like that.” he tried to explain, as he was still confused about why it had hit him so hard.

Looking down at your hands, you attempted to remember how Pamela had explained it to you. You pursed your lips as you met his gaze, hoping you didn’t botch it too badly. “She said that hope is your strongest emotion. Well, mine apparently has been fear. It’s what’s been basically running my life. When she mentioned me being afraid to lose you,” your voice got quiet as your gaze fell to the space between the two of you. 

“It just sort of hit me, but for me, it was a knot in my stomach. I’ve just been so afraid for so long… I’m not sure how to just take a leap of faith, like she suggested,” by this point, you were almost whispering, and Dean only wanted to pull you into his arms again. He vaguely remembered that part of what Pamela had said, sort of, since he had to bolt to the bathroom before he was sick in the living room.

“I’m afraid I’ll lose you… if we’re closer,” you finally admitted in a barely audible whisper, and now Dean wasn’t going to hold back. He moved closer and pulled you into his arms, shifting you so that you were sitting sideways on his legs. As your emotions crashed into his, he just focused on you, soothing the storm that had taken hold. It was the missing piece for him, so he could understand what kept holding you back. “Looks like we were both trying to figure out a puzzle,” he murmured softly, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“Those monsters took everything from me. I can’t lose you too,” you sobbed out quietly, feeling like the damn inside had finally broken. You didn’t understand that you needed this in order to finish healing, letting him in deeper than you had let anyone.

For nearly an hour, he held you, uttering soft, soothing words and doing his best to comfort you. He probably wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, but the pain that came through the connection felt like a vice on his chest. Dean did his best to take slow, deep breaths so your pain didn’t consume him, but a few tears slipped down his cheeks, landing in your hair. He knew that losing your soulmate was one of the most painful things possible, but he hadn’t realized just how much the mere thought of it affected you. Not until now. You were terrified to let someone in that much just to have it ripped away.

“I’ve got you, I always will,” he whispered when your sobs finally subsided. “And I’m not going anywhere, not if I have a say in the matter.” The only hope he had that things would be okay, was because of the words Pamela had said to him. The two of you only had to stay in the bunker for the next week and a half, no matter what.

You wanted to apologize but knew it would frustrate him, so you did your best not to even think the words. “I didn’t mean to break down like that,” you mumbled before sitting up a little.

He met your gaze, seeing how puffy your eyes were from crying. With a soft smile, he gently wiped the lingering tears away. “Crying isn’t a bad thing. Sometimes it helps. Like, how they say you have to hit rock bottom before things get better,” he offered, trying to help.

“I just want it all to stop, to go away,” you pouted, focusing on your hands in your lap as you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.

Dean debated for a moment, focusing on what you were feeling. There were a few different things he could say, but now was not the time to let the playful remarks slip out. He gently nudged your chin with his finger and thumb, so you met his gaze, trying not to let another tear slip out. 

“Things will be okay. Why don’t we just take this week and a half and just relax? I know that you’ll have to call Crowley, and we’ll be down here past my birthday. But hey, think of this time as a little vacation from the world. It’s different now,” he tried to soothe you, giving you that soft smile that brought a small one to your lips.

He knew the kind of grip your fear had on you; hell, it wanted to consume him. Gently pulling you against his chest, he let out a sigh, trying to find the right words, but he was pretty sure nothing he could say would help you right now. So, he just held you close, gently rubbing small circles on your upper arm with his thumb.

“I don’t know how not to be afraid,” you eventually mumbled. The nightmare you’d had the night before felt like parts of it were playing on repeat in your head, along with what Pamela had said. You just weren’t sure what the consistent was, so you weren’t sure what part of it would happen.

“Why don’t we just take it one day at a time?” he suggested softly.

You moved a little so you could look into his eyes. The sincerity and hope there made you smile a little. I just want to see you smile. The whispered words made your smile grow, your fears and worries slowly slipping away as you let his hope, love, and compassion wash through the connection. It was like the gentle waves as they lapped over the sands of a beach.

“Now, I’m gonna go make us breakfast. You wanna change or just lounge in pajamas all day?” he asked, feeling that soft contentment as you relaxed.

Deciding to focus on not being stressed over things you had no control over, you chose playfulness, tapping your chin with your finger, pretending to think. “Hmm…” you hummed, pausing playfully. “Pajamas, because I’m pretty sure you’ll tease me,” your words came out a little sassy, pulling a playful smirk to his lips.

Again, he was fighting with his thoughts. God, it’s gonna be a long week. The thought made you almost laugh, knowing you weren’t going to make him wait that long. He let his fingers find your ribs, gripping them in just the right way, tickling you. With a squeal, you attempted to get off his lap, but he held you in place.

He hadn’t moved his hand, but the anticipation that kept building was what was driving you absolutely crazy. However, when he leaned in close with that look in his eyes, a shiver went down your spine. “You know, anticipation works on other things, too,” his voice was low, rough, tinged with that teasing that made the butterflies dance in your stomach.

Taking a shaky breath, attempting to focus on anything other than what he was hinting at or the fact that his hand was still holding your ribs. All he had to do was grip, and he could tickle you again. “Thought you were gonna make breakfast,” you told him quickly, unable to hide the joy that was coursing through you at how he had lightened the mood.

The laughter started deep in his chest before filling the room, “Yeah, breakfast.” Not when I’ve got you right where I want you. He couldn’t help himself, though, gripping your ribs enough to make you squeal and try to get away from him. The sound brought that joy to his soul, soothing any stress left in him.

“Stop!” you yelled playfully, squirming in his lap as he held you there. His other hand found the crook in your hip, squeezing down and making you scream at how ticklish you were there.

Luckily, he didn’t tease you long. He didn’t want to accidentally hurt your wrists, and you were trying to stop him, even knowing it was impossible. The man was far stronger than you. Plus, the way you squirmed on his lap was causing another issue to arise. He snaked his arms around your waist, the two of you attempting to catch your breath for different reasons.

“Alright, Sweetheart. I’ll go get breakfast going,” he told you, trying to calm his racing heart. He gave you a quick kiss on your cheek before scooping you up and gently setting you on the couch after he stood. I love you, your whispered words in his mind bringing a wider smile to his lips, trying to push away thoughts he couldn’t act on, not yet anyway.

And that was about how the next several days went. There were board games, watching movies, tickle fests, which you even got him a few good times, and a couple games of pool. The playful banter that went back and forth had you both wound as the sexual tension grew between you. He never pushed anything too much, but he did give it an encouraging nudge. Dean would hold you when you did the dishes, so you would return that when he would cook.

The two of you settled into a comfortable routine. So far, the nightmare hadn’t come back, and the monitors also hadn’t gone off unless it was an animal going about its business. Your fears were slowly slipping away. Being close to him was getting easier the more he bantered with you. So much so that three days before his birthday, when he kissed you after your evening movie, you didn’t pull away after a few moments. You had wanted so badly just to let go of all your fears at that moment, but you couldn’t, even with your body humming from how he touched you. The moment you went to apologize, he gently pressed his finger over your lips and shook his head. 

“I told you, I can wait till you’re ready,” he told you in a soft, sincere whisper. His breathing was heavy, but he meant it; he’d truly wait till you were ready. For now, he’d have his fantasies and enjoy the feeling of your desire as it danced with his own. “How about you go crawl in bed? I’ll be there in a bit,” he added, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to sleep unless he took care of himself.

A blush crept into your cheeks as you bit your bottom lip. I wish I could just let go. It was the one thought that kept going through your head like a repeat record player. Dean gave you that half smile before leaving a tender kiss on your forehead. Don’t make me carry you. His teasingly playful threat made you chuckle. “Alright, I’m going.” You left a soft kiss on his cheek before going to your room, mostly closing it so he had more privacy. 

The tip Pamela had given you, about picturing a bubble around you, was something you had been practicing. So, as you climbed into bed, you pictured that bubble again, needing to have some time so your body could cool down from the fire he always ignited. Lying on your back, staring at the ceiling, you slowed your breathing, picturing a bubble around you. It was an odd sensation after feeling Dean’s emotions for nearly a week now. The connection was still there, and you could feel the thread, but the emotions that passed through it diminished. As you were focusing on how different it felt, Dean gently pushed the door open, a little apprehensive.

“You okay, Sweetheart?” he asked, pulling you from your concentration, effectively popping the bubble. “What was that?” 

You watched him as he crawled into the bed next to you, rolling onto your side. “I was practicing that bubble thing. I probably should warn you so you don’t get so concerned,” you replied sincerely, giving him the soft smile that helped the tension ease from his shoulders.

Dean pulled you closer, the physical contact bringing the relief he needed after feeling the connection diminishing. “Yeah, a heads up will help,” he sighed out, focusing on the way you felt in his arms and the way your emotions danced with his again.

“I can remember,” you told him softly, kissing his cheek tenderly before getting fully comfortable tucked against him. “Get some sleep,” you murmured sleepily.

It took him a few minutes to completely relax again. One minute, he had felt your emotions dancing with his, the desire mingling, and then there was almost nothing. For a moment, he thought something had happened, even being in the bunker. I’ll be thankful when we don’t have to worry anymore. He wasn’t sure how far into sleep you had drifted, but the peace that washed over him like a warm blanket began pulling him off to the dreamworld as well. A quiet hum slipped out as you drifted off to sleep.

You had no idea where you were. It was a town, and it was nighttime. There were a few street lights that cast an eerie yellow glow along the deserted street. What the hell? Looking around, the town seemed deserted. Cautiously, you headed toward the only place that looked open, a gas station several blocks away. There were no sounds like you would typically hear at night, like crickets or owls. Goosebumps prickled along your skin as you rubbed your arms, trying to get them to go away. The closer to the gas station you got, the more a knot began twisting in your gut. Something wasn’t right, but you couldn’t put your finger on what it was. The night air was warm against the chill that settled down your spine when you crossed the street. There wasn’t a single car in the parking lot or at any of the four pumps. Your heart pounded as your breathing became shallow and shaky. Swallowing hard, you made your way to the front of the gas station, only close enough to look inside. There was one person inside, a guy behind the counter that you’d never seen before. Other than that, the place looked empty. Oddly enough, that seemed to steady your nerves, letting out a sigh. You turned and looked back down the way you’d come, then further in the direction past the gas station. Where am I?  You stood outside, debating going in and talking to the cashier or just heading in the direction you were drawn to, past the gas station. Slipping your hands into the pockets of your jeans, you headed further down the deserted street. The further away you got from the gas station, the more surreal everything felt.  A few blocks later, you noticed a motel across the street, Dean’s Impala, parked in front of one of the rooms. Quizically, you tilted your head a bit. Now utterly confused, you made your way across the parking lot to the room, taking note of the number seven on the door.  First, you tried the doorknob, but it was locked. Then, you felt around your pockets, noticing something in one of the back ones you hadn’t felt earlier. Slowly, you pulled out the item, taking a shaky breath, seeing it was a key to the door. Your stomach began knotting up, like something was horribly wrong. Slowly, you unlocked the door but looked over your shoulder, feeling like you were being watched. Dean’s car was gone, replaced by something else. This one was a new model Jeep that you didn’t recognize. As your brows furrowed in confusion, the door was pulled open from the inside. Just as you were attempting to regain your balance and see who had opened the door, someone grabbed you, dragging you into the room. They weren’t gentle about it either. You even attempted to fight against their hold. Whoever it was, it wasn’t Dean, but it was a guy, and he was far stronger than you. “Now, you’re mine,” his voice was low, pleased, but with a cruel undertone. “First, you’ll be bait. I need to sever that connection.”

Your scream reverberated off the walls of the bedroom, echoing through the bunker as you bolted upright in bed. Unable to take a deep breath, you clung to the blankets as Dean’s arms wrapped around you. “Shhh.. Sweetheart,” he began softly, images flashing through his mind. “I’ve got you. It was a nightmare.” However, you both knew the truth. It wasn’t a nightmare. It was a premonition.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 31

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If I missed tagging, please let me know. I had a lot of requests for tags for this one. If you'd like to be tagged, drop me a comment.

[pawpaws-paralegal]

This projected such a vivid image into my mind that I had to write it:

“I’m almost to twenty-five patches now. If I get thirty by the end of the year I get to be a level three Green Scout, so I really need to get more patches,” Bev mused, perusing the Green Scout handbook from the floor of his bedroom.

“That’s so cool, dude. I just got to level two and you’re already ahead of me,” Erlin responded from Bev’s telescope.

“I know you’ll get there soon. We’ll work together to get a ton of patches at the Jamboreen,” Bev said, still looking through the boo. As his eyes passed over one of the patches, he frowned.

“What’s that one? Scoutmaster Denny hasn’t told us about it.”

“I don’t know dude. I think Egwene has that one, but she didn’t tell me what it is.”

Beverly frowned further.

The next day at school, he ran up to Egwene brandishing his handbook. “Egwene! Hi! What’s this patch? Erlin told me you have it.”

She looked at him like he was crazy (even more crazy than usual). “Um, that’s a pride patch? For, like, when you’re gay?”

“What’s gay?” Beverly asked, innocent as can be.

Egwene usually had a quick retort in situations like this, but the kid’s honest, wide-eyed naïveté caught her completely off guard. “It’s like, when you’re a boy and like boys, or a girl and like girls, or like both boys and girls.”

“I like boys. Does that mean I get that patch?”

Egwene pinched the bridge of her nose. “No. I mean, like, want to kiss. Now let me go, doofus.”

As she walked away, she could see the wheels in Bev’s head turning. She chose not to ponder the implications of that interaction.

Later on, as Bev and Erlin were walking to the green teens meeting, Bev turned to Erlin. “I know how to get the rainbow patch we saw yesterday. Egwene told me.”

“Really, dude?” Erlin replied, eyes lighting up. “How?”

“I have to kiss you and that means I’m gay and can get the patch,” Beverly replied matter-of-factly. “I think you can get the patch too then, if you also kiss me.”

Erlin stopped. “Dude. What?”

Beverly also stopped. “If we kiss, we both get patches. And I know Cran doesn’t have this one, so we’d even be ahead of her.” He paused. “Can I kiss you? You know, for the patch?”

Erlin was still standing there, stupefied. “Uh. Sure, dude? I guess?”

Beverly put his hands on his hips, surveying Erlin. Then, quickly, he stepped forward and pecked Erlin on the mouth. He then turned and ran towards Scoutmaster Denny, who was walking a little down the road, shouting, “Scoutmaster Denny! I kissed Erlin! Can I get the gay patch now?”

Later that night at dinner, Bev noticed his parents are looking at each other, then at him, then back at each other a lot. His mom whispered something to his dad, and then his dad sighed. “So, kid. I heard you got a new patch today?” he asked, in a tone that indicated he felt very awkward having this conversation.

Beverly, thankfully, did not pick up on this tone at all, and kept shoveling his green beans into his mouth. “Yeah. I kissed Erlin and got a new patch, so I’m even closer to level three!”

Beverly Sr. nearly choked. “And, uh,” he asked between coughs, “do you want to kiss boys? Other than to get the patch?”

Beverly stopped, looked pensively into his green beans, and thought for a second. He looked up, responding. “Maybe. I think yeah if it’s Erlin.” And without a second thought and without noticing his parents’ dumbfounded expressions, he finished his green beans.

The next Green Scouts meeting, Beverly noticed Erlin wearing the rainbow patch too.

i like when people give bev's sash a little pride flag patch partly because it's cute and partly because it could imply the green teens organization has a Being Gay Patch which would be really funny since bev was a patch completionist early on

[lizzy019]

Hihi! So, idk if your requests are open (if they're not, feel free to ignore this :))

Could I have the gang (seperately) (idk if you do all of them in one post srry(if not, then just Johnny or Ponyboy)) with an S/O who's uncomfortable with drinking and drugs and gets like, a bit tense/anxious when they see either - including when the gang has any - just cuz of some bad childhood trauma?

Thanks!

Love you sm <3 /p and I hope you have a good day/evening!!

Ahh back again with a request haha! Sure, I'll write short drabbles for each of the gang members :))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~🌿~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1) Ponyboy 2) Johnny

3) Dally 4) Darry IN THIS ORDER!

5) Soda 6) Steve 7) Two-bit

1) Ponyboy

Ponyboy knew that you tended to be a bit uncomfortable when he pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it within a matter of seconds. Now normally, you'd just plug your nose and push past it since this was just Pony's addiction, but lately you seemed to cough from the second hand smoke and stood far away from him.

You couldn't find it in you to tell him how your parental figure did it too often when you were still a young kid. You saw how they got when they were high off of their mind, it bugged you ceaselessly and you really didn't want to see Ponyboy like that either. But then again, you were supposed to be a bit tougher, so naturally you didn't tell him.

But Ponyboy caught on quick enough.

Now, it was very common for him to smoke when he got stressed or anxious about something. Though Ponyboy preferred the easy way out of his stress, smoking his cheap tobacco, he tried to keep it away from you. Whenever he was stressed, he'd find you and lay his issues on you to resolve them together.

It wasn't a big fix, but if it had you coughing less and smiling more, he'd do just about anything for the curl of your lips and the laughs you shared.

2) Johnny

Now, Johnny was well aware of your trauma and discomfort when it came to drugs and substance abuse. He tried his best, honestly, to keep his addiction away from you, or to a minimum if he really couldn't suppress the urge.

He understood fully why you didn't like substances like weed or tobacco, especially when you had these tiny freezes every time he lit up a cigarette and took a puff. They could be dangerous, fatal even, and he knew that it deeply worried you seeing him smoking them. As a trauma survivor himself, he knew it could be tough trying to push past something that scars your life.

But Johnny should've known better. He should've tried harder, especially so when you started physically distancing yourself from him when he smoked. Second hand smoke was bad, but it was worse because he knew why you were getting so overwhelmed.

You were scared, and he couldn't be mad at you for it.

So Johnny decided to quit. Just one evening, he handed you his cigarettes and his lighter and made sure you trashed them for him. At the end of the day, it was saving you both from a lot of issues in the future.

3) Dally

Dally by no means meant his teasing when you first told him how him smoking around you made you uncomfy. But he tried to at least grasp why it made you uncomfortable, to prevent the disliked feeling sway you away from him.

While Dally struggled with breaking his addiction (he was 12 when he started), he had a goal in mind. Less than a pack a day, hopefully less than 15 if he got good enough. It was just something he tried to do to keep you safe, he loved you more than anything and he'd prioritize your comfort over something as silly as a few cigarettes.

You were very happy when his average intake of cigs had dropped a couple, and it made you proud knowing you were the cause of it. And as of lately, he even seemed to be more cheery because he wasn't smoking that much anymore.

You both were very happy with what Dally had done for you.

4) Darry

Darry is a simple man. While he did like his beer, a cigarette every now and then helped soothe the stress of taking care of two buffoon siblings and all his friends. The man was overworked, you couldn't blame him for needing some affordable way to release the overwhelming stress building and building.

But you didn't like when he smoked. You were scared, truthfully. He was smart, he was a dignified and respected gentleman. Seeing him smoke was like seeing a rabbit eating corn instead of the stereotypical carrots or celery. It was odd, it wasn't correct.

So the minute you informed him of your dislike to his smoking, along with your reason for the dislike to be trauma, he was quick to throw out his lighter and just hand the cigarette box off to Soda. It was efficient, and at least with beer, the effects were more manageable compared to being high off of his mind.

5) Sodapop

Soda in all honesty doesn't smoke that much to begin with. He just doesn't see it as something he wants to use to calm himself for the rest of his life considering his other brothers already cough up a storm from them.

But he especially tried to quit doing them at all when you came along. He could see your utter discomfort at the sight of the measly tobacco stick, and he questioned you. But he quickly took back any jokes he made directed at your trauma, as he didn't know... and the last thing he wanted to do was drive a wedge in between you two because of some stupid joke he made.

That was the day he stopped smoking around you. Any time he felt the need for a smoke, he'd just tell you he'd be outside for a few minutes and he'd pop back in.

Sure, he smelled of pungent tobacco afterwards, but it was the thought that counted, right? If seeing him smoke bothered you and he was too far into his addiction to quit, he would happily find ways that'd work for the both of you!

6) Steve

Now let's be honest here, Steve drinks more than he does smoke. Regardless of it, he'll happily accept a cigarette when it's given to him, he can't deny a free cig!

But he noticed the tenseness in your shoulders, the pained and fearful look buried in your gaze as you eyed him with just a cigarette between his lips. Were you upset at him for smoking? Maybe worried for his health? He didn't know, but he threw the cigarette out even if it still had a good amount left over.

It was then that you relaxed, shoulders going loose again and eyes soft like always. Oh, so you didn't like cigarettes at all, period. Maybe you just didn't like him doing drugs, but he didn't want to question you. Then again, even if he wasn't the smartest educationally, he was smart when it came to things like body language.

Instead of taking the cigarettes offered, he started brushing them off, smiling a bit in your direction as if to show you how much he cared about you. Steve wanted you to be proud of his responsibility, and you were. Well... you only smiled back because his smile was just too contagious.

7) Two-bit

Deadass, this man has awful habits. From drinking beer and smoking cigarettes, to drinking beer while smoking cigarettes, it wasn't uncommon for him to be seen tipsy or a bit stoned every now and then.

But once you and Two got together, he maintained his sober streak for a good while. Sure, an occasional beer maybe, but never too much and never too many cigarettes. He never even knew of your trauma to them until you both were with the gang, and he started smoking just because everyone else was.

Heavily influenced, you dubbed as one of his many poor characteristics.

But he knew at least vaguely from the gang that you didn't like it. After all, it was noticeable how your usually cheery, warm expression would shift to discomfort and appal. He didn't know how to handle the guilt knowing he possibly triggered some trauma you had, and his apologies were in the form of handing you his lighter and bottle opener.

It wasn't much, but it'd slow him down.

[leefail]

I was thinking... The Robins was a mobile adoption sim (otome game style), launched a few years back with the hope of a revolutionary take on the dating sim genre. The game, though, lost its audience real quick. Because it wasn't a dating sim.

And then we have Bruce Wayne, a multibillionaire shut-in, never seen outside of the Wayne Manor ever since his parents met their tragic death, with the one person who remembers he existed being the Waynes' aged butler.

Don't let his being a shut-in fool you, Bruce was never good with electronic devices, let alone video games. His days were mostly spent sleeping and trying to chase the demons inside his head away with books.

That's how he downloaded The Robins, a click on an ad that told him to... click. (In big bold green letters with an arrow) It got him to the downloading link, and he just downloaded it.

Bruce became an addict. The game had four main capture targets: Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. Along with a bunch of other secret routes you can unlock during your playthrough.

The gameplay was simple enough. You just have to increase a character's favourability to the max for them to get adopted. Favourability increases with each unlocked special scene, and special scenes are unlocked with a certain number of successful interactions.

Special scenes were Bruce's favourite part. He'd hold his breath so tight and sit straight like a scholar for an exam and give all of his attention to the screen. You wouldn't guess he was playing a game.

The first one he played was with Dick. The young adult was sitting on the rooftop and Bruce followed him there. They talked and joked. Bruce never thought it was a special scene until the spark in Dick's eyes was gone, and he told him about his parents' death.

"Sometimes," Bruce could only see Dick's side profile as he talked, "Sometimes I wonder, Bruce. Would this have happened if I just... wasn't there? Could I have been a... a changeable variable?"

"Am I still a changeable variable?"

... For an even bigger tragedy that is about to happen.

As Dick's loud cries filled the room. Bruce's pillow became soaked with his own tears.

As for his favourite character? It was Jason, who, when Bruce finally maxed his favourability points with, disappeared instead of getting adopted. Bruce was so upset about it he spent a whole night writing a harsh criticising review. A gamer took a screenshot of his comment later, and it became an embarrassing meme that was the talk of the gaming community for a while. Bruce wasn't aware of this because he didn't have social media. (I need to mention that his username in the app store was his actual full name)

You can imagine the stress he felt when Jason returned with the rage of a burning sun.

"You know what I hate most about you, Bruce?"

His gloved hands clutched the neck of Bruce's character shirt, yanking him up so they're face to face. "It's that you're a fucking coward"

"It only took one tiny inconvenient problem for you to hide in your little corner and just give up"

"Because, heh" Jason's expression was vicious when he grinned mockingly, devastatingly at Bruce's face, looking straight through the man's phone sceen "you're saaadd. You just lost the closest thing you have to a son, so you're a sad, pathetic, miserable loser. It's an enough justification for you to just. Stop. Tryyyinggg!"

"If I wanted a dad. It wouldn't be someone who'd make my absence the blame for whatever cowardly shit he's on."

"It would be someone who even when I die, would fucking carve mountains with my name so no one could forget.

... I never died, Bruce. But everybody forgot"

"If I wanted a dad, it would be someone who'd hold my hand, " Jason caught Bruce's character's shoulder in a death grip, " and pull me up, he would come to me...

He- he would pull himself out of his own stupid head just so he could come to me" when Jason cried, Bruce closed the game.

For the long time Bruce spent wallowing in his room. Never had he felt so... heavy as he did in the later days. He could sense the weight of food in his stomach, and his butt would be numb no matter how many times he changed his position. He was tired, spent, and no book could keep his attention for long. It got to the point where Pennyworth, his butler, finally talked to him for the first time after their big fight.

"Master Bruce, you are not touching your food. Are you alright?"

Bruce's throat twisted in on itself.

No, he was not, and had not been for a long, long time.

He didn't reply, instead.. he opened the game.

He still got Tim and Damian to capture. After all.

[goodqueenaly]

What do you think of Corlys Velaryon and Rhaenys Targaryen? I specifically ask about their political attitudes toward Daemon, Rhaenyra, Rhaenyra's children, their own children (Laenor and Laena), etc.

Corlys is a character I like; but I see him acting out of ambition rather than love. But I wonder how far his ambition has gone: did he suspect that Daemon killed Laenor? Did he really like Rhaenyra's children? Did he just support Rhaenyra in power or was he also afraid of her and what she could do to him?

These questions I also extend to Rhaenys. I feel like we got little from her (And she wasn't the only one, as F&B has a lot of issues), so it's hard to say to what extent she supported Rhaenyra because she was also a woman who had her rights taken away, or if it was just out of ambition (or both).

As I know that Fire and Blood has a lot of problems (even more in the Dance), I understand if I can't do a great analysis on these two. But I would love to know what do you think about them and their attitudes!

Sorry for any grammatical errors and thanks in advance for your response!

First off, and the ask somewhat identifies this issue, one of the major problems in relying on Fire and Blood to understand the personal feelings of any of the characters within that book is that the very nature of Fire and Blood severely limits such analysis. Because we are reading about Corlys and Rhaenys (and everyone else in the roughly century and a half of history the book covers) from the ostensibly objective historian perspective of Gyldayn, a figure who lived and wrote more than a century after Corlys and Rhaenys died, we can only experience these characters at arm’s length. We are not in their heads, nor are we in the heads of any individuals directly interacting with these figures; we can only glean elements of their personality via those historical anecdotes Gyldayn chooses to share, quite the difficult prospect. Although GRRM, via Gyldayn, does sometimes invent more personal moments for his characters despite the absence of in-universe sources for such moments or the practical implausibility of Gyldayn knowing about them - think of, for example, Cregan Stark’s conversation with Alysanne Blackwood - many figures are left frustratingly vague in terms of their internal characterization. 

Consequently, Corlys and Rhaenys are, along with (albeit to varying extents) every other character in F&B, something of an enigma, at least in terms of personal thoughts and feelings. Just as I once discussed with Daemon Targaryen (in the question of his love for Rhaenyra as well as his feelings toward her “Velaryon” sons), there is very little to extrapolate from the (themselves limited) actions we have taken by Corlys and Rhaenys to determine how they personally felt about many of the people and events around them. Corlys, so far as we know, never reacted to the rumor (I think true rumor) that Daemon had his son Laenor murdered (and indeed, given his open bounty on Qarl Correy, I don’t know that Corlys ever knew or suspected as much); moreover, even if Corlys and/or Rhaenys were part of the “court and commons” outraged by the news of Daemon and Rhaenyra’s hasty marriage, this anger could well have been simply the expression of grieving parents shocked at the indecently quick remarriages (to one another) of their sometime children-in-law, and not necessarily also a reflection of any particular suspicion of Daemon. Likewise, both Corlys and Rhaenys obviously acknowledged Rhaenyra as queen following the death of Viserys I - but whether they did so solely because either or both wanted to see their “Velaryon” grandchildren on the Iron Throne, or also (and not mutually exclusively) because either or both wanted to support the claims of a female ruler in lieu of Rhaenys not becoming queen in her own right, is unanswerable. 

On top of this, I think it’s important to note that for Westerosi aristocratic society, love and political ambition aren’t necessarily mutually exclusive. This is a point I made when talking about whether Ned and Catelyn would have allowed their children to marry for love alone, and it bears repeating here; even the parents (like Ned and Catelyn) who most clearly care for and love their children are operating in a socio-political system that mandates marriages be made for the advantage of their dynasties, not simply the dictates of their hearts. Rhaenys and/or Corlys can well have loved their children while also using their marriage arrangements for political advantage - and indeed, may well have seen the latter as an expression of the former, with either or both parents working for the advancement of their children as a way of showing their care for their children. To be clear, I don’t want to say every politically ambitious parent in Westeros is necessarily a loving one - Randyll Tarly had clear ambitions with both of his sons’ would-be or actualized marriage arrangements and is simultaneously a horrible human being, and that goes even more so for Tywin Lannister - only that I don’t think we as readers should automatically equate “ambitious” with “unloving”.  

In that context, I think Corlys and Rhaenys are a bit of a mixed bag. The Velaryons certainly seem to have been willing to betroth Laena at a very young age, first to King Viserys and then to the son of the Sealord of Braavos - and in at least the former case, the apparent expectation that Laena would give birth to children sooner rather than later. I’m not saying that I consider Corlys or Rhaenys equivalent to, say, Unwin Peake (and his (unnamed!) daughter) - but just as I criticized that mega-creep Rodrik Arryn for not looking after his own daughter Aemma’s welfare in marrying her off at eleven to Prince Viserys himself, I think there is room for criticism of any Westerosi parent, Corlys and Rhaenys included, who participates in the disturbing pattern of shoving their daughter into marriage and childbirth at an extremely young age. Likewise, that Corlys and Rhaenys wished to have Laenor marry Rhaenyra despite Laenor’s own, almost certainly apparent unwillingness to do so is a reflection of their participation in that same socio-political system of dynastic continuity, and the unfairness inherent to that system; Laenor was no Loras Tyrell-esque third son whose elder brothers could wed and breed (or, indeed, a Daeron I-esque eldest son who could outsource the production of an heir to a younger brother), but the only male heir of a couple whose royal ambitions predated Laenor’s own birth. Still, while I hesitate to give Corlys and Rhaenys real praise for not marrying Laena to the Sealord’s son, given that the match seemed to be as politically hollow as it was personally disastrous, but I would like to imagine that Laena was more pleased to marry Daemon than she would have been that wastrel Sealord’s son (as indeed, her marriage to Daemon does not seem to have been facially unhappy); in that light, perhaps we can give a crumb of credit to the Velaryons for matching Laena with a more personally suitable husband. Too, I do think it’s worth noting a certain sense of fondness Corlys seems to have had, perhaps less to Rhaenyra’s elder sons as individuals as much as toward their identities as specifically Velaryons: when Jacaerys loftily declared that “[o]nly Targaryens ride dragons" (emphasis in original), Corlys supposedly  “grumbled at this, insisting that the three boys were Velaryons, yet he smiled as he said it, with pride in his voice”. 

Ultimately, and frustratingly, so much of Corlys and Rhaenys as characters is left to the imaginations of readers. Unless (and probably not until) GRRM writes a novella in their POV or interacting directly with them, they remain at arm’s length, sketched rather than fleshed out as personalities.

(Once again, this is not about That Other Show and please do not use this post to talk about That Other Show.)

[beegomess]

Dark Paradise || Theodore Nott

Don't forget to watch the previous chapters

19. Birthday gifts

The festivities of return to classes were many, the communal ones, for example, began their organization for the first clandestine party of the school year. And coincidentally or not, Draco and Y/N's birthday was in the first week of September, being always celebrated twice, once at a formal dinner and another at school, without their parents knowing about the latter.

I was still in the first week of school when this was interrupted by the formal festivity of the Malfoy brothers. Y/N, Draco and his friends went to his family's big mansion at the end of the week for the then birthday. For that night not to be so boring, the plan was to go back to Hogwarts and make the most of the clandestine party that took place in their communal in celebration of the beginning of the school year.

At dinner all the family friends were present again, which perhaps gave some sleep in Y/N. The conversation was definitely not interesting, since she and Draco were obliged to show all their gratitude for the presence of people they never heard of. However, the boredom on Y/N's face broke down when he saw Lorenzo enter the place accompanied by his family. The girl excused herself and addressed him with a cheerful smile.

- Enzo, you're back! - She hugs him, and maybe she didn't realize that that was the first time she hugged him. It was beaten for her, but for Lorenzo it might be a sign that she missed you. - I thought you were going to extend the trip for a few days.

- I wouldn't miss your birthday. - Y/N and he leaves the hug, finally being able to see each other's face clearly. Definitely Berkshire had been a little different since the last time you saw him, a different good. Maybe even more beautiful, if that were possible.

- To be honest, you wouldn't be missing anything too much. - She jokes.

- But it's still a chance to see you. - He says in a more serious tone, but soon continues to soften and make her smile. - Even if it's in a boring event.

Y/N would answer him in the hope that the conversation would continue, however, it was interrupted by the approach of both families in another boring conversation.

Her mother's request that she leave her circle of friends a little that night was the reason why the girl had not yet talked to them. A little anxiety hung over Y/N's mind when he saw Theodore arrive with his father, the boy had not yet returned to Hogwarts because he was accompanying his father on a business trip.

At a certain point during the night, Narcisa noticed the boredom open on the faces of her two children when they heard her parents' conversation with two other friends, and decided to make an exception for the two.

- All right, say hello to your friends and their families, but I don't want to see them piled up at all, do you understand me? - Y/N and Draco nodded quickly like children and with a hopeful smile and walked away before the woman changed her mind.

The two brothers approached families that didn't seem to be talking to other people so as not to disturb the conversation, so Y/N subtly searched for Theodore, but saw him and his father with their backs to Laila's parents, which made her automatically look again to make sure she wasn't going crazy. His blood boiled at the thought that his mother had invited a girl she doesn't even want to like.

- Merlin, why is she here? - Y/N asks his brother who seemed distracted looking for the Greengrass.

- Look around, Y/N. If this party was really about us, this here would be practically empty. - Draco says sincerely what makes Y/N reflect and come to the conclusion that his wills really didn't matter in the eyes of his parents in most situations.

- Y/N! Draco! My congratulations on the party and well, on the birthday, of course. - Pansy's mother had a gentle smile as she approached and gave each one a quick hug.

- Thank you, Mrs. Parkinson, but I must confess that the merit in the preparation of the party is all our mother's. - Draco said kindly, which even sounded strange to Pansy and Y/N's ears.

- Happy birthday to you, including. - Pansy said to her friend while her was talking to the blonde next to her.

- Thank you. - She answers distractedly, still paying attention to Nott and Laila's interaction. - What do you think they're talking about?

- About a wedding, of course. - Pansy said simply and Y/N looked at her scared.

- What? But so soon?

- I'm just kidding, Y/N. - Pansy hides a laugh with her hand when she sees her friend's reaction, but soon she regains her composure. - But one hour the subject will be this if you don't do anything. - Pansy warns and Y/N looks at her confused, however, decides not to continue with the conversation. He would be exposing himself with any answer he gave.

[...]

Few people were still in the Malfoy Mansion at that time, the end of the party was already a reality and most of them went back to their homes, including their friends' families. Pansy, Blaise, Mattheo, the Greengrass and Theodore sisters were just waiting for Y/N and Draco, who were still saying goodbye to some guests.

- I promise we're going, I'll just say goodbye to a few more people and I'll be right back. - Y/N said to the friends who were thrown on the chairs of a round table, all bored with her delay.

Y/N moves away again, but with the emptiness of the hall, it was still possible to see her. She and Draco said goodbye to the Berkshires, which meant that no friend lost a movement of the situation if you want. The girl laughed with her brother at some joke told by her father.

At a certain point, Lorenzo takes out a small black box with a pearly bow wrapped in one of the pockets of his pants and handing over the Y/N, who looks at him with some surprise.

- It's very beautiful, Enzo. Thank you. - She ran her fingertips with a small smile over the thin silver bracelet with small diamonds decorating it.

- I'm glad you liked it. - The boy replied without taking his eyes off his reaction for a second if you want. - Can I? - He referred to dressing her with the accessory.

- Yes, please. - She holds the box with the other hand while Lorenzo takes the object, closing it around the stretched wrist of his right hand.

The small touches of Berkshire's fingertips on the girl's wrist made her throb quickly, which seems not to have gone unnoticed by him, who looked at her immediately, smiling without showing his teeth and looking back at the object he was handling.

- It was perfect. - Narcisa's voice reaches Y/N's ears, taking her out of the daydreams that gradually washed away her memories with Theodore.

And then, the farewell ended, making Draco and Y/N go in the direction of their friends again.

- Let me see the bracelet. - Pansy asked, curious to see the accessory more closely. Y/N just reached out for her and her friends to analyze.

- Merlin, he really has good taste. - This time Daphne had a silly smile when she said, Theodore and the other boys just rolled their eyes in response.

- Can we go? - Mattheo gets up already a little impatient for more comments.

Everyone followed him without even answering and Y/N did not react to any of the comments made about him or Lorenzo. Well, you can say that his mind wandered for his concern about Theodore and Laila.

[...]

The friends were rushing through the dark corridors of Hogwarts Castle after disappearing in the black forest. The laughter between them was audible as they approached the entrance of Slytherin's communal.

What broke the smile on Y/N and Theodore's face was the vision of Laila waiting at the communal door to be let into the party as well as the others. The friends came in and Laila, who followed them inside, was just waiting for Theodore inside now. However, she was completely ignored by him and the others of the Elite Slytherin.

Y/N went to the improvised bar made with magic in the corner of the room, while she was stopped from time to time to receive a suggestive happy birthday from some boy, who only received a "thank you" in response and nothing else. The loud music and the dimly lit place gave the last characteristics of a party full of people from other houses.

Theodore was looking for her with some anxiety, he hadn't been alone with her since he arrived, and well, maybe he had a gift for her too. The boy dodged people directing to Y/N, who was still drinking with Riddle next to him, when suddenly Nott feels a pull on his arm and looks back ready to curse whoever it was.

- Theo! - But he avoided a curse when he saw it was just Laila who called him. - Can we talk? - She said loudly for him to hear.

- Can't it be later? - Theodore tried not to look rude, but it was in vain.

- Please, it will be quick. - She insists and he accepts just going to a corner, but a little closer to Y/N, who seemed to have fun with Mattheo in the middle of the other people while they danced. - So, I was thinking about what you did some time ago and... - Theodore tried to pay attention to Lufana, but quickly turned his gaze directly to Y/N dancing while Laila explained why she had forgiven him for getting his name wrong during sex, the interesting thing was that he never apologized, an asshole attitude if he really stopped to think.

- Great, Laila, that's good. Now I have to go. - Theodore said as soon as he realized that she stopped talking and walked away from her, leaving the girl confused and a little disappointed with the reaction.

Theodore walked to the place where Y/N was, but she was no longer there, however, luckily for her she was just further ahead, this time talking to Daphne.

- Y/N, I was looking for you. - He said a little panting, maybe he let his anxiety shine through.

- It was, wasn't it? - Daphne said with a suggestive smile and Y/N just looked at him shining to know that he was looking for her.

- Can you come with me? - This time he went to Y/N, who asked Daphne for permission following him.

- See you tomorrow! - Daphne was visibly altered, she was never very scandalous.

Y/N followed him throughout the community and in the corridor she began to feel an unusual heat, mainly because she was in the dungeons and it was not very common to feel heat there. Maybe this feeling at the foot of the belly was given by the memories of the last time they were together and how much she used this memory to touch herself during the time they were away.

- May I know why we are going to your dormitory? - She asks in a suggestive tone, which makes Theodore smile in response.

- Your gift is there. - Y/N frowned confused if this was some kind of double meaning or if she was misinterpreting the signs. - And I had no way to take it to you.

They entered the room, and Y/N cared little if it was what she expected or not, she was very in need of him to wait for whatever it was. So, as soon as she saw Theodore turning to her again after closing the door, she brought their faces closer and took her gaze directly to the boy's mouth, who reciprocated.

- I see you've missed me. - Y/N shuddered when she heard him say that even better than she imagined. The girl hung her hands around his neck, then lowered one of her hands to rest on her chest.

- I don't know... - She had a malicious smile and a nebulous mind to have him so close again. Theodore really had a gift for her, but that would be for later, he wouldn't postpone one of the opportunities to have her just for him once again, after all, he also felt it. - But you I'm sure you felt it, wouldn't you?

Theodore decides to stick his mouth to hers once again, taking his hands directly to the waist of the girl dressed by the thin fabric of the dress she wore. Y/N sighed heavily when he felt the boy's hands on himself again, which made him smile during the kiss. Nott lifted her on his lap, running his hands under her clothes and putting them on top of the desk. The boy went down the kisses all over her neck and collarbones, like a complete needy. Y/N let out low moans and slow sighs while biting her lips, and for a moment she thought she was in heaven. Merlin, he was hot.

- Teddy. . .- However, Y/N thought he heard a different noise and ignored it, but the noise was repeated, but Theodore didn't seem to hear anything since he was too busy already running his mouth through her apparent thighs. - Did you hear that? - She pushed him away and he looked confused. Y/N jumps off the table and tries to listen again.

- What...

- Shh! - They are in complete silence, when the noise is heard again.

Now easily identifiable, the cat meow came from inside the closed bathroom. Theodore gets up and heads to the door, opening it and bringing a box in his hands. The meood that came from her only increased as he got closer.

- Happy Birthday. - He leaves the box on the bed and Y/N approaches with curious eyes, smiling big when he sees the little black kitten inside the box.

- Merlin, Theo. - She takes the animal on her lap carefully, and as she caresses his little neck he purrs and stops meowing in complaint. - I can't believe it. - Y/N was visibly happy with the animal in his arms while sitting next to Nott on the bed. - He's so cute. I loved it, Teddy. How did you know I wanted a kitten? - She asks without taking her eyes off the cat who was already starting to close his eyes on her lap.

- You told me in one of your letters. - Theodore watched her happily for getting the gift right. It was a sweet moment that he would never forget, not even Y/N. - What name will you give him?

- I already had a name for a black kitten in mind even before I had one. - She said with some pride. - Your name will be Toast.

- Toast? - Nott laughs lightly with the name, and Y/N throws him a fake indignation.

- Well, he's a little toast that passed the point, isn't it, Toast? - Theodore admires her even more for the affection for an animal that has so much indifference to the human being. - Tomorrow I'll go to Hogsmeade to buy several toys and beds for you.

Y/N may have never won such a significant gift like this. The two spent the rest of the night caressing the cat and learning how to please him, when Riddle caught them sleeping again, Y/N was hugging Theo, while the little cat was curled up on Nott's chest, Mattheo couldn't avoid the proud smile that insisted on leaving. This time he decided not to wake them up.

_______________________________

next chapter>>>

xoxo, bee🫶🏼✨

[janespink]

𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 - 𝑀𝒶𝓉𝓉 𝒮𝓉𝓊𝓇𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓁𝑜 Warnings: none

Summary: Y/N befriends her mysterious neighbor, Matt, only to discover during their date that he’s an escaped prisoner.

Author’s note: English is not my first language. Also the first ff i ever wrote

Moving to a new neighborhood wasn’t exactly how you planned to spend your summer. Your parents called it a “fresh start,” but to you, it just felt like being uprooted. Thankfully, you had Nate and Madi—your closest friends, who were more like family than anything else. They made the transition bearable. It was a quiet afternoon when you first noticed him. You were sitting on the front porch, scrolling through your phone, waiting for Nate and Madi to pick you up. Across the street, a guy around your age was unloading boxes from the back of a truck. He was 5’7 and lean, with a hoodie pulled over his head despite the warm weather. You didn’t mean to stare, but there was something intriguing about him—the way he moved quickly, almost like he didn’t want to be noticed. “Hey,” his voice cut through your thoughts, and your head snapped up. “Oh, uh… hi,” you stammered, caught off guard. “You just move in?” he asked, pausing with a box in his hands. His tone was casual, but his eyes studied you with interest. “Yeah, last week,” you replied, gesturing vaguely toward your house. “Looks like we’re neighbors.” He nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Guess so. I’m Matt, by the way.” “Y/N,” you said, returning the smile. Before the conversation could go any further, Nate’s car pulled up, horn blaring obnoxiously. Madi stuck her head out of the passenger window, grinning. “Let’s go, Y/N!” “Coming!” you called, grabbing your bag. You glanced back at Matt, who gave you a quick wave before disappearing into his house.

Over the next few weeks, you saw more of Matt. It started with brief hellos when you passed each other on the street, then longer conversations whenever you found yourselves outside at the same time. He was easy to talk to—funny, thoughtful, and just a little bit mysterious. “How do you not have a single social media account?” you teased one evening as you sat on the porch steps, talking while the sun dipped below the horizon. Matt shrugged, a playful smirk on his face. “Guess I like keeping things simple. Besides, I prefer real connections over a bunch of likes and comments.” “Wow,” you said, pretending to be impressed. “Deep and philosophical. You’re really setting the bar high, Matt.” He laughed, the sound low and genuine. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

It wasn’t long before your friendship with Matt became a regular part of your life. Nate and Madi noticed, of course. “So, who’s the guy?” Madi asked one afternoon as the three of you hung out in Nate’s basement. “What guy?” you asked, feigning innocence. “Don’t play dumb,” Nate chimed in. “Madi saw you talking to some dude on your porch the other day. Spill.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your face. “His name’s Matt. He just moved in next door.” “And?” Madi pressed, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “And… he’s nice,” you said with a shrug. Nate raised an eyebrow. “Nice, huh? That’s it?” “Yes, that’s it,” you said, hoping they’d drop the subject. But they didn’t. Over the next few days, they made it their mission to find out everything they could about Matt—much to your annoyance.

One evening, Matt surprised you by asking if you wanted to grab coffee. “Like… a date?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat. He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. A date.” You felt a blush creep up your cheeks but managed a smile. “Sure. I’d like that.” The next day, you told Nate and Madi about the date. “Finally!” Madi exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “I’ve been waiting for this to happen.” Nate, however, looked less enthused. “I don’t know, Y/N. Are you sure about this guy? You barely know him.” “That’s what dates are for,” you said, brushing off his concern. “Just be careful, okay?” Nate said, his tone more serious than usual. “I will,” you promised, though you couldn’t understand why he was being so cautious.

The date started off perfectly. Matt picked a cozy little café tucked away from the busy streets, its warm lighting and soft music setting the perfect mood. “You’ve got good taste,” you said as you took a sip of your latte. “Glad you think so,” Matt said, his eyes crinkling with a smile. The conversation flowed easily, just like it always did with Matt. He told you about his favorite books and movies, and you found yourself laughing more than you had in weeks. Halfway through the date, your phone buzzed. You glanced at the screen to see a text from Nate. Nate: Call me ASAP. It’s important. Frowning, you quickly texted back. Y/N: Can’t. I’m on date. The response came almost instantly. Nate: Y/N, I’m serious. You need to see this. You sighed and opened the next message, which was a screenshot of a news article. The headline sent a chill down your spine: “Local Prisoner Escapes Custody: Police Warn Public to Stay Alert” Beneath the headline was a grainy photo of the escapee. You stared at it, your heart racing. The man in the picture looked eerily familiar—too familiar. It was Matt.

End of Part 1.

[melaniessturniolo]

they discover littlesister!reader has an ed?

🪞 Skinny 🪞

brother!triplets x ed!reader

warnings: ED, anxiety, body image issues, passing out, angst, fluff (?)

summary: after having an ed for a while, your brothers have to intervene

a/n: this is a rly short one but it hits HARD

————————————————————————

It was eating you alive… literally. You had become obsessed over the idea of becoming thinner, everyday eating less, and less… your family noticed, your friends noticed, but you were so stuck on being skinny and losing weight that you shut everything else out

It felt amazing at first, your old clothes not fitting you anymore, the numbers on the scale going down… but now? Now you were stuck spiralling, constantly in a headache unable to ingest any tiny amount of food… everyone was concerned for you and your health, you were very clearly not ok

 This was until your parents had enough… they called up your three brothers, your best friends, that you had shut out in the process of your mental health worsening

Just hearing what you had been going through made their stomach churn… so they decided to come to Boston to see what was going on with you, and if they could help 

You were in your room, checking your body in your mirror, ribs poking out of your skin, a huge cap between your thighs… it was all you’ve ever wanted, but it still didn’t seem like enough, something was missing

 Your thoughts were interrupted by three loud knocks on your door

 “Honey?” Your mom called

 “Yeah?” You answered

“Nick, Matt and Chris will be here in a minute… get ready and come downstairs please”

“Okay!” You said, going to find some oversized clothes in your closet… so your siblings didn’t notice the dramatic change

 You knew you had to eat soon… it had been around two days since you last ate and the side effects were starting to hit hard

“We’re home!!!” You heard Nick yell from downstairs, so you quickly tried to gather yourself, taking a quick glance at the mirror before carefully going down stairs… attempting not to pass out in the process

When you saw your sibling you almost shed a tear… you hadn’t realised how much you missed them while you were stuck in your own crap; you quickly ran up to Nick as he held his arms out, his warm embrace heating up your freezing body, he comfortingly rubbed your back as you melted in his arms… he could tell how broken you had been when they were out

“I missed you” Nick whispered into your ear after a bit

When Matt and Chris came back with their luggage from the car, you greeted them and attempted to help them get their stuff in the house.

 The triplets didn’t say anything at first, but you could tell they were concerned for you, by the way they glanced at your shaking hands, making efforts to make you eat, until they had enough 

You guys were in the kitchen, Nick and chris bickering about something you had lost track of a while ago, when you decided to stand up and get a glass of water… you started seeing spots, your vision blurring and your balance was starting to be lost… you didn’t even realise you were now on the floor in matts hands, your head aching and your hands trembling, he held your fragile body waiting for you to gain consciousness of what was happening

“Matt?” You said, your voice faint

“I’m right here y/n, you’re ok” he replied, his voice soft, but fearful

That was when you realised, you fucked up really bad… 

 Matt grabbed your hand, sensing your anxiety

“Hey y/n it’s okay…” he said as you burst out in tears, he held you firmly, glancing at Nick and Chris, who still hadn’t quite processed what had happened… Chris then grabbed a glass of water, walking over and handing it to you after you calmed down; he rubbed your back comfortingly as you sipped your drink, taking it back when you were done

“Thanks” you said, ashamed 

Matt carried you upstairs to your room, and sat you down on your bed, covering you with your comforter 

“Kid we really need to talk” he begun, he held both of your hands as he sat on the side of the bed next to you, looking at you, his eyes laced with worry

“Yeah” you replied, you didn’t really know what to say 

“We can tell your not okay, and we care about you and love you so, so much. but your making really unhealthy decisions for yourself and it’s reaching a point where your body can’t take it anymore, and you won’t last long if you keep going like this” he proceeded, making you understand just how bad this actually was

“I- I’m sorry” you said, bursting in tears once again

“I’m not okay Matt, i feel like such crap all the time and I just wanted to be skinny but I can’t stop” you said, desperate to feel any better

Matt shed a tear at your words, the bright kid you were was now broken in his arms

“It’s okay, we’re gonna help you, okay? You’re gonna be okay” he whispered, fighting back tears that eventually just ran down his face…