#I mean he's been through so so so so much so it's expected

[unmotivational-motivation]

one of the things i really want people to take away from this, especially after BTB did a series on masculinity grifters is that in the modern era, as we removed gender roles and expectations of what people do in society (moving from the default he as a stand in pronoun for humans to she or god forbid they was a massive step) what was left was having to invent your role in society, and often reinvent it regularly in a post-modern world. The shared consensus has been fractured without a narrative no matter how hard to follow to live, only memories of what came before.

this isn't an issue for the people who have a natural level of curiosity and enjoy learning, as at minimum you're a different person every six months - to maybe every two years. most people don't thrive in a state of constant change and look to the past where people had certainty in their place in the hierarchy. These are the gender roles inherited from their grandparents or their parents, and they seemed happy right? the last thirty years has happened so fast we haven't stopped to assess the changes and where to take them from here. NOW THE HOT TAKE: modern masculinity is not going to change by being viewed exclusively through a feminist lens, it will be changed by being in conversation with feminism, ripping out the toxic parts and allowing masc folk to decide what that means for them. If the conversations is duopolised into (some valid and some not) feminist critiques and "primal masculinists" it's not going to shift in a healthy direction. The people like Tate will win because it's much easier to say "the world owes you" (easy) as opposed to "what can you offer the world?" (rewarding)

Tim Walz and Fred Rodgers are two men i seek to emulate, people who look at the world and can say "I choose kidness".

gen z has to reckon with its radicalization problem. you are not a morally pure and superior generation of youth come to save the world, your men and boys are radicalized at an unprecedented level and you ignore it because it’s too hard to address but you have to. these boys are in your classes, they date your friends, you know them and you cannot continue to pretend this is an “old white guy” problem

[itsonlyjoseph]

Make Me Hurt || Eddie Munson x Reader

synopsis: Y/N lives her life coping torment from Eddie Munson day in and day out, but after a certain encounter, everything changes

warnings: Bully!Eddie, angst,

word count: 4.5k

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The fluorescent over head lights bounced off the white linoleum and burned into your eyeballs. It was currently 8:30 am and the morning rush of Hawkins High School had already began.

People gathered in their cliques around the parking lot and in the halls. Cheerleaders, jocks, band geeks, honour roll student, slackers, stoner, all of them.

You were by yourself, obviously, as you trudged your way down the hall towards your locker. You hated this school for many reasons. The food, the facilities, the people. Actually, mainly just one person. Eddie Munson.

Eddie Munson... were to begin...

He was a tall, dark, metalhead who hated everyone and everything and he made it known. Eddie wasn't popular by any means. He too was an outcast. Him and his friends dubbed satanists and cultists by everyone around them, and even though you too were an outcast, you were an even bigger loser than him. He made it known that you were dirt beneath his dirty white sneakers. Sure, he'd felt that way about everyone but for some unknown reason, it was personal with you. He made your entire high school career a living, breathing hellscape.

You didn't even know what you did to him to make him target you personally. You had barely ever spoken to him, aside from when you had to. Eddie wasn't the most approachable guy so people rarely went up to him unless they were looking to end the day with less teeth. He was happy get into his fair share of school yard fights.

You felt the atmosphere change as your ears perked up at the familiar sound of sneakers slapping the floor. You sighed out an already exhausted breath, just knowing that today would be no different than any other day.

Just as the footsteps got closer, you felt a large, rough hand grip your shoulder and swing you around. You came face to face with Eddie's broad chest, making you look up timidly to his his sneering face staring you down. He had a look of hatred that always sent a wave of anxiety and sadness through you.

What did I ever do to you?

"Hi." You squeaked out, meekly.

"I told you to keep your shit out of the Hellfire room." He seethed.

Ah, yes. The Hellfire room. An empty class room down in the west wing that Eddie and his friends occupied every day. No one knew what actually happened in there. Many people said they did their devil stuff in there. Once, someone even said they sacrificed a baby lamb in there. You didn't believe that one. Much.

"But I haven't been down there." You tried to defend yourself. Eddie didn't care. His fist came up and collided with the locker behind your head before he walked away.

You didn't know what stuff Eddie was talking about. You really hadn't been down there. At least not with any item to leave behind. Maybe he just wanted a reason to torment you.

Eddie wasn't the only person that tormented you. You also had to cop it from the jocks and cheerleaders. They called you names, kicked your bag across the room, tripped you, the usual nasty high school stuff.

It was different with Eddie. It didn't feel like the typically high school bullying. It felt worse. Angrier. Meaner.

The school day felt like it was dragging on, they way it did every day for you. Every day was the same. School. Eddie. Work. Repeat. It was draining. Your parents expected the most out of you and wouldn't settle for anything less.

Lunch was your favourite period because you could disappear for a while and be by yourself. You could take a breath. Typically, you sat in the library or behind the gym but considering the heavy rainfall today, you sat in the library.

The library was only ever littered with dorks and the quiet kids. They never spoke to you but you felt safe with them. It was almost impossible to find one of the popular kids in the library. Even less of a chance of seeing Eddie in here.

The rain pelted heavy against the windows as you found your usual spot under the staircase. You sat on an old beanbag and were surrounded my bookcases. You were pretty undetectable here. Opening your sack lunch and the book you were currently reading, you settled in. You were calm and happy, not a care in the world for the next 45 minutes. Or so you thought.

The library doors squeaked open after a few minutes but you paid no mind. Until you heard that all too familiar voice.

Your eyes widened, half in fear and half in exhaustion. You had never encounter Eddie in here but now this little slice of solitude was tainted.

From your place under the staircase, you had a perfectly hidden view of where Eddie was standing. He was being looked down at by Principal Higgins and it seemed like he was being reprimanded for something. For the first time in your whole life, Eddie looked almost… Scared? Beaten down? Nervous? Sad?

You couldn’t quite tell.

“Listen, Munson. I want you out of my school more than anyone but I have half a mind to keep you back again. Teach you a lesson on respect. You think people like you go far in life? You think your dad got very far?” You listened to Principle Higgins berate Eddie whilst he stood there and took it. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost feel bad for him.

“Keep in line or I’ll ruin what little chance you have at a future.” Principal Higgins threatened before taking a breath and stepping forward. “And don’t think I won’t enjoy it.”

He finally left after that last comment and Eddie stood still, a completely unreadable look on his hard face. Your place under the stairs hid you just enough to keep looking at him and analysing him.

You saw Eddie take a deep breath and rub his forehead with the back of his hand. Suddenly, your hiding spot was sorely revealed when the little foam balls in your bean bag shifted, making a rather loud sound.

Eddie turned his head slowly to the source of the noise, his face turning from unreadable to angry the moment he spotted you.

With wide eyes, you whipped your head back round to completely hide your body from view. You took a few deep breaths to calm your racing nerves.

In a few seconds, Eddie would most likely round the corner of the staircase and rip your book from your hands, screaming at you until you cried.

But he didn’t. Eddie didn’t round the corner to yell at you. Nothing.

You braved another look the where Eddie was standing and saw that he was gone. That was definitely odd. You’d accidentally heard Eddie getting in trouble and he didn’t do anything about it. He just left.

Maybe he was taking Principle Higgins words seriously and actually keeping himself in line. Maybe that meant no more bullying.

After a short while, the bell rang, signalling the end of lunch. You’d packed up your items and stuffed them back into your bag, distracted. For once, your mind was elsewhere. You weren’t scared of walking around the school like you normally were.

Placing your Walkman over your ears and turning it on, the sound of Fleetwood Mac flowing through your ears, you walked out of the library humming along. Your mind of occupied with thoughts of what you’d do after work tonight, what pyjamas you’d wear to bed, what movie you’d watch along tonight.

You were blissfully unaware of the looming presence behind you.

Eddie had waiting for you outside the library to give you a piece of his mind for eavesdropping on him like that.

Just before you could turn down an empty hallway, you felt a rough hand come down harshly on the shoulder, yanking you back against a wall with a yelp.

Eddie ripped the Walkman from around your ears and out of your pocket and smashed it on the ground. You watched the little pieces of plastic spread out on the floor around your feet.

“Why are you always lurking somewhere, huh?” Eddie yelled in your face. “That was my business!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!” You pleading, Eddie’s hands pressing your shoulders roughly into the wall and tears welling up in your eyes.

Eddie was pressing you into the wall so hard, your feet just barely scraped the ground.

“You shouldn’t have heard that!” He continued. The anger intensifying.

“I’m sorry!” You sobbed. You had tears streaming down your face as you looked up at Eddie with wide, unblinking eyes and for a moment all Eddie could see was his mother, terrified and pleading for his father not to hurt her. “Please don’t hurt me Eddie.”

Eddie’s hands loosened for just a moment. “I’m not my dad!” He shouted and stepped back, stomping off down the hall and leaving you all alone.

You fell to the floor in a crying heap and tried to catch your breath.

Sure, Eddie had been tormenting you for years. Saying all kinds of nasty things but never once had he gotten physical. Eddie pushing you against the wall didn’t necessarily hurt but you were scared that he wanted to hit you.

You also weren’t sure what he meant when he said he wasn’t his dad. You’d heard Principal Higgins talk about Eddie’s dad just before but you didn’t know the extent of it.

After you’d wiped your tears and calmed down, you gathered up the pieces of your smashed Walkman and shoved it back into the front of your bag.

You’d cycled to school that day and decided for the first time ever, you’d skip. Beat the rush and go home for a few hours before work tonight. You might even call in sick.

At home, your dad was sitting in the armchair in front of the TV when you’d walked through the door.

“Hey Button, what are you doing home so early?” Your dad wondered. He was a gentle man with a pot belly and kind eyes.

“Oh, I just wasn’t feeling too hot. I think I might be approaching my ladies days. I just wanted to relax a bit before work.” You lied. You never lied to your dad.

“Okay, baby. You feel better soon.”

“Thanks dad.”

In your room, you placed the pieces of Walkman on your desk, along with the equally broken tape. It was your favourite.

You’d spent 65 dollars of your hard earned money on that thing and another 8 dollars on the Fleetwood Mac tape.

Lying down on your bed, you snuggled into yourself and just stared at the wall. For some reason, you felt bad for Eddie Munson. Sure, you didn’t deserve the things he said to you but you didn’t have to be genius to see that he was troubled. He probably had a bad home life and was taking his anger out on others.

You shouldn’t feel bad but you did. It was your best and worst quality. You felt things too deeply. No matter how terrible someone seems to be, you can’t help but feel sorry for them and want to help them and protect them from whatever’s hurting them. You wished whatever pain was inside Eddie’s head, you could transfer over to you so he didn’t have to feel that way.

Your eyes began to get heavier and heavier and soon enough the next thing you know, it’s pitch black outside and a patch of drool coats your cheek. You’d fallen asleep. You felt a little better but considering the sky was dark, you’d missed work today.

You rolled over and looked at the bright red numbers on your alarm clock.

3:19 am.

You definitely missed work tonight. Oh well, you decided you’d just give them a call tomorrow and explain that you were sick. Surely, they’d understand. You were a good enough worker that they wouldn’t think you just bailed.

The next morning, your opens opened to the sound of your dad gently tapping on your door. Looking over at the clock, you saw that it was now 8:30 am.

“Hey sweetie. How are you feeling?” Your dad asked as he opened the door.

For a moment, you forgot. You forgot that Eddie wanted to hurt you. You forgot your broken Walkman and you forgot the look of hatred in his face.

“Uh.. I’m not sure. My stomach hurts still.” You wheezed out. You added a fake little cough for good measure.

“Alright, you rest up and I’ll call Principal Higgins. I might even stop by Scoops and get you a sundae.” Your dad smiled down at you. You smiled back up at him. He was so kind and he was such a good dad. It made your mind go back to Eddie’s dad. You wondered what he was like.

“Thanks dad.”

Your dad closed your bedroom door and you rolled back over to face the wall again.

You couldn’t feel Eddie’s hands on your shoulders anymore but you remember exactly what it was like.

“God, why does he hate me so much?” You mumbled quietly to yourself.

A day later, it was Saturday. You had never been more thankful for the weekend. You were working at the diner tonight, thankfully, and you had a few hours before your shift started.

Standing in front of your vanity, you brushed out your hair and applied your favourite blue eyeshadow lightly across your lids. Your typical shift went from 5pm up until 12:30am.

It was a long and tiresome shift but you appreciated the money and liked having something to do on your free days. You also had your fair share of loyal customers that you enjoyed seeing and speaking to.

Riding your bike to the diner probably wasn’t the safest considering you left after midnight, but you didn’t have another option. You didn’t own a car and you didn’t want to ask your dad to stay awake for you.

Pulling your uniform out of your wardrobe, you placed the pale yellow dress over your body and tided the frilly white apron around your waist.

Downstairs, your dad was already snoozing in the armchair as the 4 o’clock news played quietly in the background. Placing your keys and lipgloss into your purse, you made your way outside to your bike.

The diner was quiet, as usual. Only a few older guys here and there. Putting your belongings down in the back, you made your way out start your shift.

You noticed your favourite regular sat at the diner bar sipping his coffee quietly and reading the paper.

“Afternoon, Wayne.” You smiled at him.

He looked up and smiled brightly behind his moustache. “Hey there, sweet thing.”

Wayne was a regular for a long time and even though you’d only been working at the diner for a few months, the two of you chatted like old pals every time you saw each other. You talked about movies and music and occasionally talked about work and school but not often.

“Overnight, tonight?” You asked as you topped up his coffee.

“Same as every night. How’s school.”

“Schools whatever.” You mumbled.

“That still giving you a hard time?”

“Is the sky blue?”

Wayne mused.

“You know, if I’ve learnt anything in my time here on earth, boys pick on girls they like.”

You huffed outa breath as if to laugh.

“Nah, I doubt it.”

“Never know.”

“I guess but, this feels different. Just the way he looks at me.”

“Well, maybe there’s something else going on. Maybe he’s troubled or scared of his feelings.”

You looked up at Wayne and noticed he had a sympathetic look on his face.

“Okay love guru.” You laughed. “You hungry yet?”

Wayne smiled and looked over the menu once more before speaking.

“No, just the coffee tonight. I gotta pick up my nephew before I head to work. Lost his license again.” Wayne said as he finished off his coffee and stood.

“Uh, of course.” You replied. You’d heard vaguely about this mystery relative of his. I’ll you knew was that he got himself into trouble and they were each others only family.

Wayne dropped a five dollar bill on the counter and smiled before walking out. It was 4 dollars and 30 cents too much but Wayne had already left by the time you realised.

The rest of the shift was boring and uneventful, as usual and by the time 12:30am rolled around, you smelled like burnt coffee and bacon grease. No wonder you had little blackheads on your chin.

“Okay bye Al!” You called out to the line cook as you mounted your bike.

The weather was cooling off as the summer was coming to an end but it was still nice enough weather to not need a jacket after midnight. It was times this like when you wished you had friends to hang out with and go to parties with.

You took your usual route home but considering it was past midnight on a Saturday, the few dive bars around town were crowded with people. The bar that was on your way home was called The Hideout. It was a sketchy biker bar that housed the towns drunks and heavy metal enthusiasts.

Cycling past, you peered over and felt your stomach drop when you saw who was standing around a group of scary looking guys, all smoking.

It Eddie.

The very same Eddie that you had seen since he pushed you up against the wall.

Coming to a stop on your bike, you needed to catch your breath. You were on the other side of the street and it was dark so you figured it wouldn’t see you but he did. He looked right at you.

His face soften as if he was recognising you. He held an unreadable expression as he stubbed out his cigarette.

The exchange only lasted a moment before you turned back to the road and peddled on down the road and towards home.

For the next several days at school, you’d managed to avoid Eddie at all costs. You saw glimpses of the back of his head or his shoulder but managed to sneak away completely unseen by him.

Normally you hated it when he was mean to you because it hurt your feelings but now you were scared of him. You didn’t really know if he was capable of hurting you physically but you didn’t like to think about it.

You hid in the library or down in the lower levels and raced home afterwards.

You had another late shift on Wednesday after school so instead of going home you decided to take your uniform to school with you and just get your homework done during the quiet periods.

Wayne hadn’t arrived yet when you got there so you decided to brew a fresh pot of coffee for him.

The doorbell chimed just as the pot was finishing brewing. You turned around to greet who you assumed would be Wayne but your blood ran cold when you were met with Wayne… and Eddie.

What is he doing here, and why is he with Wayne? You thought to yourself

Before you realised, you let go of the coffee pot in your hand and it smashed on the floor, coffee spilling around your feet and staining your old white Keds.

“Oh, Y/N. You okay?” Wayne asked concerned.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” You stuttered out, quickly dropping to the ground to clean the mess you’d made. “It slipped.”

“Here, I’ll help clean it up.” Wayne said as he walked to you.

“No!” You exclaimed. “It’s okay, I got it.” You forced a smile.

It was obvious you were incredibly anxious right now, anyone could see it.

“Uh, okay. Well, Y/N, this is my nephew, Eddie.”

You slowly stood back up, still nervous to meet Eddie’s gaze. You didn’t want Wayne to suspect anything so you finally looked up.

Eddie held that same unreadable look on his face that he did on Saturday at the hideout. It was one you hadn’t seen before then. He usually looked so angry and full of hate but now he just looked… like nothing.

“Hi, there.” You mumbled.

Eddie didn’t say anything. He simply turned his lip up to give you an awkward smile.

“Two coffees to start?” You said to no one in particular.

“Yes please, thank you darlin’” Wayne mused back.

The two men sat down at the counter as you turned your back to brew a new fresh pot of coffee. Even though your back was turned, you could feel Eddie's eyes burning holes into the back of your head.

You placed the two cups of coffee down in front of Wayne and Eddie without looking up. You had never felt this on edge in his presence before.

Eddie watched you float around the diner from the corner of his eye, not listening to Wayne speaking, for most of the time he was there. He noticed that you seemed more carefree and happier here then you were at school but he could tell his presence made you anxious.

He hated it.

He didn't really know why he hated you so much. He couldn't place why he tormented you to the extent he did. Sure, he was an asshole to everyone he encountered at school, students and teachers alike, but there was something about you he didn't understand. Something that burned inside him so hot that he saw red every time he saw you. He just wanted to hurt you the way he hurt.

"Alright boy, let's go. I got work soon." You heard Wayne mumble, finishing off his coffee and standing.

You turned and faced the two men for the first time since placing Waynes eggs in front of him.

Eddie was already looking at you.

His usually hard face still held that unreadable expression on it.

"Goodnight, Y/N." Wayne smiled after dropping his money on the counter.

Normally, you would have smiled and waved and said goodbye but tonight you simply raised your hand as the two left. Your eyes lingered on Eddie for a moment longer and then he also left.

When the doorbell chimed, signalling that they were gone, you let out a deep breath you didn't realise you had been holding. Now that Eddie and Wayne were gone, no one else was in the diner. Normally this was the perfect opportunity to finish off some homework but your mind was completely busy elsewhere. Tonight was a lot to take in. First, you'd finally met Wayne nephew and it turned out to be Eddie. You didn't understand how Wayne and Eddie could be related. Wayne was so kind and Eddie was... Eddie.

Secondly, you had no idea what the neutral, unreadable look on Eddie's face meant. Would he continue to terrorise you at school, maybe worse this time? He now knew where you worked too, which wasn't ideal.

You biked home once again after your shift and collapsed on your bed, falling asleep in your uniform.

It had been an eventful few days to say the least.

It didn't help your fatigue that you were working another shift tomorrow night. Your worries for tomorrow washed away however. You knew it was Wayne's night off, meaning he didn't come in for dinner beforehand. You'd be able to relax without seeing either of them.

Waking up the next morning, you quickly showered and dressed yourself before shoving your uniform into your bag again.

You noticed Eddie wasn't around in the morning. You thought he was probably out doing a drug deal or just late but you noticed that he wasn't in the cafeteria at lunch other. Perhaps another detention. But he also wasn't in the library, which was odd.

Even though Eddie hated school and everyone in it, it wasn't typical for him to skip. Whatever the reason may be, you were thankful for the day of peace and calm.

By the time the day come to an end, you had almost completely forgotten about the whole situation. Almost.

Walking into the diner, tightening the apron around your waist, your stopped in your tracks, blood turning cold once again.

Eddie was back. He was alone this time. He sat stoically by himself at the counter with his arms folded close to his chest, head looking down.

You shuddered out a breath. You figured he was here to confront you and yell at you for playing nice with his uncle. If this was any other diner or restaurant, you'd make a co-worker go and serve him but you couldn't do that. The was no one else here. It was just you.

You took a deep breath and slowly walked over, bracing yourself for hell.

"Hi.' You muttered, but he didn't look up. "W-would you like another coffee, Eddie?"

Eddie took a moment before he looked up at you. He had a soft, calm expression on his face. You hadn't really noticed it before but when he wasn't seething with hatred, Eddie was handsome. Large brown eyes, round like a baby cow and a long eyelashes with a dusting of freckles across his nose.

You shook away the thought, waiting for him to respond.

"I'm sorry I hurt you at school last week." He deadpanned.

"I-wh- Sorry?" It caught you off guard.

"And I'm sorry I hurt you when you did nothing wrong."

You didn't say anything, just looked at Eddie like a deer in headlights. You never once expected to ever speak to him in a normal setting, let alone have him apologise to you.

"I don't expect you to forgive me, so I'll leave you alone." Eddie said as he stood up to leave but before he could turn around, he pulled something out of his pocket and placed it on the counter.

"This was mine, but, you know," He mumbled.

It was a Sony Walkman. Not the same model as the one you had but one just as good.

"I also got you this." He said quieter this time. "I don't know if this is your kind of music but,"

I also placed down an Iron Maiden tape next to it. You still hadn't moved. Your were still too in shock too.

Eddie spared on last look you before he walked out. Your eyes slowly dropped down to the counter and softly reached out to take the Walkman and tape into your hands. In theory, it was an incredible gift. Eddie gave you his Walkman and apologised for hurting you.

You were conflicted and you had no idea what to think.

All you knew was that you wanted to say thank you. You just had to find out were Eddie lived. You couldn't confront him at school. That could go badly.

You needed to hatch a plan and speak to Eddie. All you wanted was to know why he hated you so much. Or didn't?

You had no idea.

[bunnwich]

This is altogether random, but I feel you might appreciate the idea: since Leona is doing his internship with a mining company in Sunset Savanna, I like to think if he were to propose to his partner, any ring would have a stone he found himself (then or years later) that made him think of them, because they’re worth the effort.

No, I love this so much and this actually inspired to think of some HC for Leona and Yuu's engagement!! So pardon me as I use this as an excuse to yap/draw.

🧡Leona x Yuu Proposal

🧡Engagement:

I picture Leona and Yuu would be together a while time before he worrys about marriage. Leona as we know is not traditional by any means. And the two are so used to just…being there for each other, lives intertwined like a braid. 

At this time after NRC I see Leona having his hands in a few things, but mostly just there as support for Yuu and even Ruggie as they navigate graduating. After his internship he currently sits as a member of the Board of Environmental Utilization.

I think they would already live together in a somewhat isolated place near the edge of the Outlands and Sunrise City. Leona originally helped get it for Yuu to have a forever home but now he finds himself there more and more. It's a bit of a fixer-upper, reminding Yuu of the Ramshackle.

I imagine their house has a revolving door policy and often has uninvited guests, Ruggie comes to visit a lot and uses it as a place to crash when he's in town to see his Granny. And then there's Cheka (who is now a teen rebelling against his parents.)

Often the two take late-night drives in Leona’s jeep to get away from the craziness of all. Leona struggles trying to adapt to a more humble living situation and lifestyle. (he still can't work the microwave for a damn), but he tries enjoying the quiet life he has with Yuu. Yuu is still figuring out how they will fit in in their new homeland as a Sunset Savanna citizen.

I feel Leona’s family would be hassling them about marriage for years but neither are too keen on the idea of it liking their private life. However, Leona knows it’s the easiest way to protect Yuu and make sure they always have a home and inherit the house they fixed up together. (Should anything ever happen to him.) Plus, it would give them full citizenship in his homeland. 

So one day, he decides that it's time to make it legal. Of course, he already knew a long time ago that they belonged to one another, this is so cemented in his mind and he’s not even that nervous about it. At this point, they’ve been through so much together they live together, they are one. So, he does it in his Leona way.

On one of their sunset drives together he pulls out a special ring his sister-in-law helped him design with Yuu's three favorite stones that he’d sent them in their time apart. He had two requests when he had it made: it had to have a moon for Yuu and a stone for both of them.

Leona during his internship would often collect stones he would find in the mines, finding some to send to Yuu. He knew that they liked that sorta stuff even if he didn't care for it. And he didn’t mind writing down little geological facts for them. 

“So…ya wanna be married to me?”

Yuu would honestly not expect it. And he said it so casually too! Smug bastard. But as usual, he was…right, their lives were so connected they couldn't imagine not seeing his cocky face every day or hearing his soft words of encouragement then loud ass snores every night.

“Okay.” They say with a shrug, and Yuu would be crying for both them. He was right, it just made sense. Besides, what would the lion do without them?

After putting the ring on their finger he'd wrap his arms around them, intending to never let go after that. He can’t help but get teary too. He never thought that he’d have someone like his brother did, to be by his side always.

“Well, now, yer stuck with me.”

“That’s okay.”

🧡Wedding:

As for a wedding, I KNOW Falena and Sis-in-law would press for a big, fat traditional Sunset Savanna wedding. There is a bit of controversy among some old-fashioned council members that Leona is marrying an outsider and a few murmuring that Yuu is a human too. But Leona’s favorability in the kingdom has always been so divided that some take an apathetic view, expecting this behavior from the second prince anyway.

Being a “spare heir” works in Leona’s favor this time, as there is not as much pressure for an arranged marriage for him as his brother had. Though there’s still some pushback. They were fine viewing Yuuta as a fling but it’s tradition for royal family members to have political marriages.

It’s a bit of strain on their relationship during this time with the stress of the capital’s spotlight on them. Since Leona told no one about it until after he proposed to Yuu. But, because a few on the council are fond of Yuu already, (as well as the queen regent), it all works out eventually! (Leona threatens to take Yuu and run away so many times.)

It is an…adjustment getting this much attention for Yuu. But, because the house they chose is already out of the prying eyes, the two compromise by agreeing to a true royal wedding…

This doesn’t last long. The two get fed up and…elope a few months later in the middle of the night. Cheka/Ruggie sneak out to be witnesses. Falena and the queen are pissed and make them promise to get married again in a few years publicly.

🧡Traditions:

Rings are a bit more of a modern marriage tradition in the Sunset Savanna as other countries' cultures melded with theirs over the years. Leona has never been one for traditions anyway and he liked the idea of matching rings, made out of the same ore and gems.

An old tradition of Sunset Savanna marriages is that of permanent bracelets, braided by hand by the officiating party. They are meant to stay on til death. Often colored beads are added to represent each personality. The braided hemp itself represents an eternity together in this life and the next. Through the circle of life, they are connected from then on out. 

[suiana]

(yandere! bully victim x gn! bully reader) (cw: erm... yandere stuff, body horror or whatever its called idk bruh, he kinda carves his name into ur skin but its not mentioned in detail)

"how does it feel to be on the receiving end now, huh?"

you shiver, letting out a strained sound as you trash on the table.

"pluh- mn!"

"what was that? you've got to be clearer with your words, my dear. how do you expect me to understand muffles?"

the male hums, his cold hands dancing across your body. you could only shiver yet again, unable to do anything but remain binded to the table.

"oh, sorry, i forgot you couldn't speak. haha, how silly of me."

yeah, how silly of him to completely gag you so you couldn't speak. how completely silly of him to tie you to some cold table, restraining all your movements so that you couldn't fight back against him. how absolutely whimsical for him to be recording all your grunts, groans, and whines while you were completely restrained.

well, you suppose it's a bit ironic. considering that you were the one doing it to him when the both of you were younger. albeit not on this level.

you wonder if this was how he felt. vulnerable, naked, defenseless.

it happened so long ago, but the wounds you inflicted on him were still fresh. no matter how hard you try apologizing, his scars still bleed warm.

you shouldn't have been mean to him. you really shouldn't. especially when he was so much nicer back then.

"mn... you have no idea how much I've wanted to do this. it really makes me happy to see you so..."

he pauses, eyes raking over your form that was tied down to his table.

"so weak."

we've all watched the movies where the bully gets put in place and completely punished. you used to laugh at those films. i mean, how could the bully even be so stupid to get karma for their actions? couldn't they have hid better? tried making up for it? why did they have to go through the consequences of their actions? what idiots!

but now that it's happening to you, you wish you hadn't said those words.

the second you found out that your ex-victim was your boss, you couldn't even as much as utter a word. no, you felt like you were about to have a mental breakdown. especially because you were now his secretary, working for him.

"come on, what happened to that big, scary, and mean ol' bully that i knew? the one that used to pour water over my head and have their friends restrain me?"

his words have a hunt of condescension- no, they were fully condescending. he was mocking you right now. mocking you for your stupidity, mocking you for your actions. and he was absolutely taking pleasure in seeing you in such a weak and reduced state. a shell of the person you once were.

you couldn't do anything but to take it like the loser you were.

"haha, look at you. all tied down and gagged like the dog you are. why don't you bark for me? maybe I'll be nicer if you act like a stupid bitch in heat."

he laughs, hands resting on your clothed abdomen. his hair falls over his eyes, the usual up kept man looking like a mess as he continues to taunt you.

"you know, when i confessed to liking you, i never expected you to bully me. seriously. i thought you'd be like, I don't know, nice about it. if you were nice I don't think I'd have stalked you and do all this. would've courted you normally until you accepted. I'm a patient guy after all."

the words that come out of his mouth have just the tiniest bit of sadness in them. however, it's completely squashed down by the sharp look in his eyes.

"had i known you'd be such an ass about it... I'd have just taken you for myself right there and then. who cares about having a normal relationship, right? as long as you're with me, it's all that matters."

right, like what he was doing right now. ever since you started working for him he's been constantly... acting like he was your boyfriend rather than your boss. constantly giving you gifts, telling you that it was okay that you bullied him because he knows you're just shy and that he'll make things right... the worst part was when he forbid you from interacting with others.

it was fucking creepy.

things were only worsened when he found you on a night out at a bar, flirting with some random stranger. you had wanted to let loose and relieve some stress but it looks like karma loved to see you suffer.

"what are you doing? are you cheating on me?"

what the fuck?! you stare at your boss in horror, freezing in place. quickly turning back to the stranger you were flirting with, you shake your head and apologize, explaining that your boss was just a little weird. why the hell is he even here?!

"look, I'm sorry but he's a bit of a creep and-"

"my darling, i think it's time we go back home. you've had one too many drinks."

that experience was only the start of an even worser time. one that led him to declare to the whole damn world that you were now his in a fit of anger and mania. i mean, he practically has you locked in his house now. and it wasn't even illegal since you agreed to come.

he had called you to sort out some paperwork or whatever and you being his secretary... you couldn't refuse even if you wanted to. so you made your way to his house, all naive and ignorant of what was to come the second he opened those doors to that luxurious mansion of his.

you passed out and the next thing you knew, you were restrained to the table, gagged and staring at him with a half lidded look in your eyes.

god damn it, you should've known better than to believe this crazy guy's words. why would you willingly go to his place where there'd be no one but you two? ugh, stupid, stupid, stupid.

and now you could only express how terrified you were with your eyes and shivering body.

"how cute. how seriously cute. I've always wanted to see you look at me with that expression."

he coos, lips stretched into a smirk as he leans down to your face. his breath hits your skin, cold hands trailing up your chest and to your jaw before he grips hard.

"you're mine. it wasn't clear when i was just a boy but you've always been mine. since the day i let you bullied me, and even right now, I've made it clear. you're mine, and always will be mine."

he's right, you've always been his. why else would this rich and obviously powerful guy just let you bully him? he could've had you gone the second you made a move on him but instead...

"i still remember the slaps and bruises you left on me. ah... you were so cute back then. hitting me like that. should've scarred me too, maybe then I'd see your horrified face whenever i flashed it."

a sadist. you're sure that he's some sort of sadistic masochist.

"oh well, it's no matter. I've done that job for you."

he pulls away, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his bare upper body to you. to say that you were completely terrified would be an understatement. because why the hell was your first name (and his last name btw) painfully carved into his other flawless skin? right above his heart, no less!

"isn't it beautiful? you're forever with me now."

his words send a chill down your body. what the hell, you don't want to be with him at all! and it looks like he sensed that but chose to ignore your feelings.

your boss smiles at you before pulling out a small blade from his pants.

oh hell nah.

"it's your turn, darling."

no no no, you don't like where this is going. your body trashes violently against the cold hard table he had you strapped in, pupils blown wide as adrenaline fills your veins.

"mgh! mf!"

"hey hey, quiet down. it's only fair that i get to do it to you, right? consider this my payback. you had your fun and now I'm having mine."

no! shit shit shit, what are you supposed to do?!

you try shaking your head, sweat forming on your skin as your breath grows laboured. your body continues to trash against the bindings, but it looks like the bindings were done just a little too well.

"hm... should i do it somewhere visible? or maybe... right where your heart would be?"

you shake violently, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"nh! mh!"

"aw, is my little darling about to cry? that's so cute. go on, cry for me. cry for me just like i cried for you."

tears fall down your cheeks as he trails the vlade over your clothes. the sharpness of the item has you shivering, cold dread creeping up your spine at the very thought of that anywhere on your skin.

"hm... since you look so scared, I'll carve my initials instead of my full name. how about that? a good offer if i say so myself."

if you could speak, you'd be cursing and begging him to stop. unfortunately that wasn't the case and your boss took your lack of words as the green light.

"don't worry, I'll kiss your pain away afterwards. it'll be over before you know it."

oh god damn it, you really should've just politely rejected him when he confessed.

[thatgaydemigodnerd]

Brucie Wayne had wandered off to find the bathrooms. This excuse would buy him around 10 minutes of time to find the Penguin's plans. He was definitely planning something.

What Bruce didn't expect was the joker to bust the Gala. He'd hoped it would've been the riddler this time, or maybe even Harley and Ivy.

So now of course the whole building was on lockdown, if he could slip away he could make an appearance as-

He was being tackled.

"Where are you going you idiot! There's a Joker attack," hissed a familiar voice. Ah, Danny Fenton. Time to play up the Brucie act again.

"Joker? Oh I would love to hear a joke. Do you think he can make balloon animals? He's a clown right?" Oracle giggled over the comms, no doubt watching through the security cameras.

"Does he... How do you not know how dangerous he is! You live here!" Danny got up off of him and dragged him to a side room, clearly a small office of some accountant, and locked the doors behind them.

"Joker was in the main gala hall last time I saw him, he was not looking for you as far as I heard. Pretty sure he just wants attention from Batman like usual." Oracle confirmed he still is in the main gala hall with the hostages. Dick would need to show up as batman today, Bruce couldn't slip away. He pressed the button hidden on his cufflink to indicate he was stuck in civvies but not in immediate danger. Oracle would handle the rest.

"Oh, that's a shame. I was hoping he would give me a balloon animal." He pulled a sad face, like a child that's been told they can't have candy before dinner.

"How. How are you the richest man on the planet? How has someone not scammed you out of all your money yet? You'd fall for the first nigerian prince scam someone sent you. How did Gotham not eat you alive?" He looked like he was about to tear his hair out.

Bruce looked at his body language, he's still keeping his voice down despite his anger, and he always keeps the door in his field of vision. When he entered he did a quick scan of the place, eyes landing on the airvents, clearly considering them an emergency means of escape.

If he was bullied he would be vigilant, but this level of vigilance and calm during an emergency situation, especially the gotham rogues, would not be explained so easily. Clearly this young man has done some vigilante work himself. He would need to take a closer look at the amity park hero after this.

Welp, time to mess with him.

"Oh no I'm not related to a nigerian prince, he's actually somalian. Such a nice lad, I really should book a flight to Somalia and visit him. So nice of him to reach out and offer me part of the inheritance. Almost as nice as the Zimbabwean family who also offered me part of their inheritance."

Danny was tearing at his hair, he looked about ready to beat him to a pulp.

"I know I don't have much of a Somalian or Zimbabwean complexion, but with the gotham air who can expect me to truly get any sun, such a shame. I should go to the beach more of-" there was a knock at the door.

Oracle confirmed it was Red Robin here for extraction.

"Oh who could that be? Maybe it's that clown? You think he'll give me a balloon animal?" He had moved to the door and unlocked it before danny could pull him back.

"Sorry to disappoint mister Wayne, but the only balloon animal I can make is a worm. Let's get you two out of here."

Danny let out a sigh of relief, no doubt glad to pass off Brucie wayne to the local vigilantes.

He'll get more fun next gala he's sure. Besides, danny keeps showing up to these. He's not even part of the Mansons, their daughter keeps inviting him and he keeps saying yes. Clearly he is also enjoying this, or he thinks brucie would die without him.

Danny keeps on meeting Brucie Wayne at Galas when he goes to keep Sam company. He hates the man. There is no adoption, no adoption jokes, he never meets Batman. Give me Danny Fenton and his unending beef with Brucie Wayne. Bruce finds this absolutely hilarious. This feisty 14 year old is incredibly fun to antagonize.

[chestnutninny]

Get Your Girl

Hi! What about a request for Aaron Hotchner x reader where he’s been kind of seeing/dating you but is scared of making it official bc of what happened to Haley but he loves you so much so is in a battle with himself about what to do. And the rest of the team can tell how happy he is with you and they try to convince him to go for it. Angst ending with fluff.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

For the last couple of months, Aaron's usual scowl had disappeared entirely from his face and had been replaced by a smile, one that the team only saw on very rare occasions. The confusion that buzzed through the team hummed around the office, the members whispering about the sudden perk in his attitude. The case that the team had been working on has finally come to an end after a gruelling set of murders, and Aaron was fast to pack up his belongings and speed out of the building, bundling into his car.

He made his way to his apartment ready to get changed into his date attire, expecting your arrival at his front door within the next half an hour. Panic started to set in as it dawned on his that he was running really behind, not even having enough time to fasten the tie around his neck, before the doorbell wrung out through his apartment. He strode towards his front door and looked through the peephole before opening the door.

You stood on the opposite side, wringing your hands in front of you, before looking at to meet his eyes. Your figure was hugged by a short black dress that sat mid thigh, gaining Aaron's attention, which was very wanted. His eyes raked shamelessly up and down your body, his tongue darting out of his mouth to wet his lips, before returning his gaze back to your own.

"Hey. You look so gorgeous, Y/N." He smiled, his head lowering slightly as he smiled shyly, almost bashfully.

"You don't look too bad yourself." You smirked, his shyness giving you a slight surge of confidence.

He leaned against the doorframe for a few minutes longer, his eyes glancing over you over and over again, however you were starting to grow slightly impatient.

"Are you going to invite me in, or are we standing here all night?" You joked.

"Sorry...come in." He pushed the door further open, allowing you access to his home.

You had been on a few dates with Hotch, however this was the first time you had been invited to his house, with the promise of a home-cooked meal. He led you to the front room, where you took your seat on his sofa. He came over to where you were residing and set down two glasses on the coffee table, before pouring an ample amount in each glass.

You both indulged into some casual conversation whilst you waited for your food to finish. Eventually, he brought out two steaming plates stacked with huge piles of spaghetti, which you assumed Rossi gave him the recipe for. Your conversation simmered down whilst you ate your food, your slight moan echoing through the room as the taste of the food settled upon your taste buds.

"So...how's work been?" You asked, resuming your talk.

"It's been okay, pretty stressful. But what's new there?" He chuckled to himself. "Although, I've been invited to a Unit partner with the rest of the team.

"Ooh, that's exciting. Are you going to go?"

"Maybe, I'm not too sure just yet." He admitted.

"Maybe I could come with you. It'd be the perfect time to meet the team?" The idea definitely made you nervous, however you'd do pretty much anything for Aaron, and to be able to meet the people he calls family would mean the world to you.

"I don't think that'd be the best idea, Y/N." He stated bluntly, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Why not?" You were met with silence. "You haven't even told them about us, have you?"

He sat with his head down, refusing to make eye contact with you. You scoffed before reaching for you bag and jacket, making an abrupt exit from his apartment. Aaron tried to call after you, yet the door slammed over his voice.

You stormed down to the parking lot of his apartment block and slammed your car door behind you. Hot tears streamed down your face as you planted your forehead against the cool leather of your steering wheel. After a few minutes, you gathered yourself and made your way back to your own apartment, the anger boiling through your veins not subsiding in the slightest.

Back at his apartment, Aaron, couldn't help but kick himself. Why didn't he say anything? He knew that he should have opened his mouth and offered for you to come with him to meet his 'family', however after what happened to Haley, he was too afraid to expose you to the horrors of his job, his everyday places.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Monday morning finally moped around and Aaron found himself mindlessly slipping into his suit, throwing all of his belongings into his car before driving of the work. Hid colleagues immediately sensed his foul mood, yet they all new better than to get under his skin more by asking his questions about it. That was until the team gathered around the table after hearing about a new case and Penelope Garcia strutted through the room, her floral perfume lingering behind her.

"Sir, your frown is certainly more visible than usual," she joked, looking around the room at the rest of the team.

Morgan shook his head at her, signalling for her to be quiet. Hotch sighed and buried his head in hands before abruptly standing up and excusing himself to his office. Garcia watched as he exited the room and looked back to her team before offering an apology to them all.

"I think you should be apologising to Hotch, babygirl." Derek remarked, his signature smirk taking over his features once again.

"I'll go and talk to him." JJ stated, before vacating her own seat at the round table.

Once she had reached his office, three knocks rung out from the wooden door, echoing throughout his spacious office. He waited a few moments before calling that the door was open. He straightened his back and cleared his throat as he watched JJ make her way into the room, settling down on the corner of his desk.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" She questioned after a few minutes of awkward silence.

Hotch lifted his head slightly, unspilled tears forming in the corners of his eyes. JJ forwned in confusion, but waited for him to talk. He cleared his throat and blinked a few times before speaking.

"I've been seeing this woman for a while now, but I'm too scared to make things official after Haley's death." He admitted, shaking his head at how pathetic he sounded.

"So that's why you've been so smiley lately?" She questioned, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

He chuckled at her antics before nodding his head nervously, which was very out of character for him.

"Honestly, I saw just go for it. You know the team will always have your back and we just want you to be happy. I'd love to meet her, she must be great to make you this happy, Hotch."

Aaron considered her words before agreeing with her.

"You're right. I deserve to be happy and she's the one I can see myself being happy with."

"Go and get your girl."

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You swung your apartment door opened, the delicate petals of your favourite flowers clouding your vision. You gasped in surprise when Hotch's head poked up from behind them, a small yet nervous smile appearing on his face.

"Hey." He greeted, his teeth carefully chewing the inside of his cheek as he waited for your response.

"Hi." You responded, a bit confused.

You hadn't heard off Aaron for a few days since your incident, however you couldn't deny that it felt so good to see him again, to see him stood at your door.

"I'm really sorry, Y/N. If you'd give me a second chance, I'd love for you to come and meet my team?" He proposed, his eyes full of hope.

"Of course. But you have to tell me what's going on."

You pushed the door open more for him to enter, and you both spoke about everything whilst you got ready to go and meet his team

The rest of the night was filled with laughs, jokes and hand holding, with it fair share of drinks and delicate kisses placed upon your cheek and head.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Taglist: @borinxnovakxprentiss @chloeelou02x @moonlightjxuregui @zolofts (join my taglist here)

[mynicosensesaretingling]

Hii, can I ask an enemy to lovers with Franco Colapinto?

It’s kinda more open ended than I intended it to be but if you want ( or anyone else is interested) I can try to make a bigger story out of this!! 💓

Hope you enjoy it !

——

You had always found Franco Colapinto insufferable. From the very moment you joined the paddock, there was something about his smug grin and wild curls that got under your skin. He was talented—there was no denying that—but his cockiness drove you crazy. The two of you were always at odds, a rivalry fueled by every glance, every sarcastic comment thrown your way.

And, naturally, you’d been paired with him for media duties today.

“You know,” Franco said, leaning against the wall, arms crossed casually as he glanced over at you, “you don’t always have to look like you want to punch me. We’re just here to talk about the race. Smile, maybe?” You rolled your eyes, the movement almost hurting from how much you’ve been doing it lately. Pinching your nose, you adjusted your jacket as you waited for the interview to begin. “I’m not sure what’s more painful, Franco, sitting through this interview or pretending to like you.”

The driver chuckled, clearly amused by your sharp tone. “Ouch. Come on, I’m not that bad.” You almost snorted at that, “Yeah, you kind of are.”

Franco pushed off the wall, taking a step closer. “And yet, here you are, stuck with me.” His lips were pulling into a smirk as he shrugged his shoulders.

Before you could respond, the interviewer called for you both to step forward. The questions came quickly, most of them focused on the upcoming race. But every time Franco answered, he made sure to include a little jab at you, something subtle, something that made your blood boil just a bit more.

“We’ve got a lot of good drivers out there,” he said smoothly, glancing at you with a teasing smirk, “some of them a bit too competitive, though. Right, (Y/N)?”

You gave him a forced smile, hiding the urge to snap back. “Just trying to keep up with you, Franco.”

The interview wrapped up, and as soon as the cameras were off, you spun around to leave. But before you could storm off, Franco grabbed your arm gently, stopping you. “Hey, wait,” he said, his voice surprisingly softer now, losing the playful edge. “You’re always so quick to walk away.”

“Because I don’t want to deal with your crap,” you shot back, but there was less venom in your words than before. Something about the way he was looking at you made you pause. For a moment, there was silence. Franco’s grip on your arm loosened, and he let his hand drop to his side, his gaze lingering on you.

“I didn’t mean to get under your skin..I mean I kind of did but-” he admitted, his expression a little more serious. “I just—maybe I like pushing your buttons because… you’re one of the only people who pushes back.” You blinked, not expecting that. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying I don’t hate you, (Y/N). I think—maybe—I admire you. A little too much.”

Your heart skipped a beat, caught off guard by the sudden change in his tone. “Admire me? You’ve spent the past few months making my life miserable.”

“Yeah, well,” Franco shrugged, his smirk returning, but it was softer now, almost playful. “Maybe I wasn’t handling it the right way.” You narrowed your eyes at him, unsure of where this was going. “So, what? You’ve been acting like a jerk because… you admire me?”

“Maybe more than admire,” he said, his gaze locking with yours. The way he looked at you—like he wasn’t joking anymore, like he actually meant it—sent a strange warmth through your chest.

The air between you shifted, the tension that had always been there suddenly taking on a different meaning. Maybe it wasn’t hate after all. Maybe it was something else entirely.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, though there was no heat in your words anymore.

Franco stepped a little closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Maybe. But you don’t hate me as much as you think you do, do you?” You stared at him, eyes searching his face as your heart was racing in your chest. Maybe he was right. Maybe, just maybe, the rivalry had been hiding something else all along.

With a small, almost imperceptible smile, you finally let your guard down, just a little. “I guess we’ll find out.” Franco grinned, and for the first time, you didn’t find it annoying.

[obxsummer]

chaotic // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: a quick glimpse down memory lane before the group heads to charleston where you and john b are placed on cemetery duty. good thing a sibling intervention was needed and john b's hit with the heavy realization that you'd been left with more than superficial scars from the camerons.

warnings: ptsd, non-consensual drug use, angst, rafe cameron, typical obx violence, ward cameron being a dickhead, almost kidnapping?

a/n: good luck, godspeed, & listen to chaotic by tate mcrae

navigation -- series masterlist

ask me anything

--

“Would you do this to your sister?”

Rafe stared at you, horrified, as you hummed on the bed from the effects of the heavy indica based oil he’d put in your drink. You were practically on a cloud, and he was surprised you even had the energy to speak. You’d never asked him anything, just begged him to stop and let go, but never this.

“What?”

You forced yourself up to a sitting position, practically fluttering at the pain relief he’d given you. Rafe spent more time in this room with you, just talking and yelling and taking his anger out on you because you were there. You usually didn’t bother to comment back, just taking whatever he’d give because you’d given up on the idea of life getting any better. 

“Would you put Sarah through this?” You repeated, eyes blinking quickly at him. 

Rafe bent down to snort the line of white powder he’d organized on your calf; any other surface in the room and his dad would notice (or that’s what he told himself). “The fuck are you talking about?”

“I mean, John B would never do this to your sister, so why the hell are you doing it to his?”

The question caught Rafe off guard more than he expected. His dad had practically ruined his relationships with everyone he’d come to know. Except you, Ward had broken you into the perfect little companion for Rafe. There was no running away, nobody to come save you. So, in his own little twisted way, he really liked having you around. You were his.

“I don’t have to answer you,” Rafe replied weakly, knowing damn well he would’ve never allowed anything like that to happen to Sarah. Not…no? Maybe. He didn’t know anymore and his brain wasn’t working correctly now with the drugs in his system.

You sighed, “Okay.” Flopping back on the bedding, you stared at the ceiling. Your heartbeat was in your ears and it felt like time was passing so slowly.

“Would you ever forgive John B if he did that?”

You shook your head and gave him a thumbs down. “John B would never do that. And if he did, I’d never speak to him again.”

The statement hurt. As much as Rafe tried to convince himself that you were wrong, it hurt. He wanted to be good, to be worthy of someone’s love and attention. He’d tried his whole life to but he kept fucking up. That’s why he was leaning on you. You were fixing that hole in his chest whether you knew it or not.

“Would you ever talk to me again?” Rafe stared at the bland walls as he spoke.

A moment of silence filled the room before he turned to see if you were still awake. Your eyes remained unblinking, the rise and fall of your chest in a steady motion the only sign that you were still alive. 

“You’re really scaring me,” You answered honestly. Your mind was silent, the only thing running through it was Rafe’s question, so you had no reason to lie to him. “You’re hurting me. You’re really hurting me and I don’t understand why.”

Rafe turned away when you started crying, your form shivering in an adrenaline drop as you rolled onto your side away from him. He sat silently until your breathing evened out, eyes closing as you fell into an induced slumber before he turned the lights off and left the room, locking the door as he did.

--

John B was worried.

Let’s be clear, as the eldest of the group, John B worried often, but when it came to you, he always was. 

Everything was off since you and Kie had returned from the shop and it was practically a red flag waving in front of his face. Neither of you said anything but it was obvious from the timing of everything paired with tear tracks on your faces that something happened. He just had to wait it out for more details.

Revealing everything to Kie had brought up a lot of buried feelings and although you wanted nothing more than to hide away, you didn’t want to risk staying home by yourself. You were quiet the entire ferry ride, claiming you were tired and needed a nap so nobody would question your lack of energy. That didn’t mean you missed out on the conversations around you, eavesdropping your way into John B’s awkward insinuation of moving into the next step with Sarah.

The topic pulled tears to your eyes as you thought about the idea with JJ. Would you guys stay in Kildare? Would you move somewhere, or stay here and carry out a different kind of life that neither of you had experienced?

“So based on the captain’s log, Blackbeard’s in his ship, the Adventure, somewhere out there, and they’re being pursued by the British Royal Navy, right? So, he comes to shore, takes a bunch of hostages. They called it the, um, the-“

“Oh, the uh, the Blockade of Charleston. That was eighth-grade history.” John B interrupted Pope’s story with such confidence it almost brought you out of your shitty mood.

You walked slowly behind them, head covered by one of John B’s old Kildare High hoodies, the sweater paws keeping you warm. Kie was a few steps ahead of you, walking next to Sarah. Every now and then she would spare a glance back to make sure you were still there. Cleo walked ahead of everyone else, knife twirling between her fingers with murder on her mind. She would get her revenge on Terrance’s behalf.

Your attention drifted from John B and Pope’s conversation to your phone where your messages to JJ had gone unanswered. You knew he could hold his own, but you hated the thought of leaving him in search of his dad, not that he would’ve let you go anyway.

“Come on, Birdie.” John B had slowed his pace to walk along your side, his hand grabbing yours so you’d drop your head on his shoulder. “Wanna talk?”

You shook your head slightly but squeezed his hand in appreciation that he was here. Pope was busy solving the riddle left by the amulet that had brought you here.

“Wait, I have a question. So, if we’re talking about caskets, that doesn’t mean we’re going to another cemetery, right?”

You laughed softly at John B’s question, leaning further into his side as the six of you continued walking down the cobblestone street. The walk continued much longer than you would’ve liked, your mind and body ready to lay down for a little and reset.

“You know what’s been bothering me?” Pope asked after the sun had set and you’d walked a good 5 miles. “Blackbeard has a treasure he desperately wants to keep. He’s being pursued by the British Royal Navy. They’re blockading the entire city. Yet he finds time to make coffins to bury his cook and navigator?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, time out. Time out, time out. Dude, he definitely put something in those coffins.”

“Are you dumb.” You let go of John B’s hand to stop in front of him, giving him a blank look. He looked offended as you walked away from him, shaking your head as you did. It was quite obvious that you were looking for treasure hidden in the coffins.

“Half Moon, Half Moon Battery, where the living and the dead collide, which I figure is a cemetery, which means all we have to do is figure out where-“

“The North Star is?” Sarah finished Pope’s thought as she raised her hand to point to a stained-glass window of the church on the corner. You shrugged at her find, figuring it made sense to at least give it a shot.

John B wrapped an arm around his girlfriend. “Sarah Cameron, have I told you I love you lately?”

Pope stared at the colored object for a few more seconds before turning to address all of you. “Here’s the plan, alright? I’m gonna need you and you for diversions. You’re coming with me, I need to check something in the church. And you two are on cemetery duty.”

That put Sarah and Cleo on distractions, Kiara going with Pope, and you were left with John B for cemetery duty.

“Wait, what?” You asked as you looked around the darkness surrounding you and your brother seemed to be on the same page. “Don’t leave us out here!”

“Look for the gatekeeper in the cemetery,” Pope explained as the remainder of the group started walking toward the entrance. “Be so safe!”

You rolled your eyes at the ongoing joke, turning to face John B. “We just got benched.”

“Yep, where the living and dead collide, the Routledges will provide. Awesome,” He grumbled and walked around the gate to enter the graveyard area. “It’s not real, they’re dead. It’s gonna be fine, we’ll be fine.”

You sighed and let him rant away to himself as you found a spot on the stairs to claim for the upcoming time. Pulling John B’s hoodie sleeves further over your hands, you shivered with the cool night breeze.

“So, are you gonna tell me what the hell is going on or am I going to have to drag it out of someone else?” John B took a seat next to you and cracked his knuckles like it would make him any tougher. 

As much as you loved Kie, you knew she wasn’t good at keeping secrets, and you wanted to talk to John B before she went running. Your teeth pulled at the chapped skin of your lips before you answered, “I heard you on the ferry, talking to Sarah about starting a family.”

He seemed confused for a moment before his cheeks burned red. “Oh, that’s awkward. Um, that… that should’ve been a more private conversation and-”

“Would you hate Sarah if she didn’t have kids?”

The question wasn’t one John B anticipated. Out of all the things you guys had talked about before, raising a family wasn’t one discussed. With your own family relationship being rocky, John B never knew where you stood on the idea and if you’d ever want that for yourself (and JJ, but he tried not to think about that).

“No, n-no. I would be sad, of course, but I wouldn’t hate her. She totally dodged the idea, though so you don’t have to worry about-”

“Would you leave her?”

John B frowned and blinked at you, but you still weren’t looking at him. He wasn’t used to you asking about his relationship in this kind of way. “Why are you asking this?”

You pushed a shaky breath from your lips and let your head drop to your knees. God, you wished JJ was here. He deserved to hear this from you first, but he wasn’t, and you didn’t know when he would be.

“John B, I can’t have kids.” You turned to watch his expression as he processed your words. Your eyes were warm with tears while a million emotions crossed his face.

“What?” John B didn’t know what else to say. You guys were barely adults, and this topic shouldn’t even be a thought in your mind with the current living conditions and lack of funding you all had. But you were his little sister, and his heart was breaking as you spoke. “Can’t or won’t?”

Tugging on the sleeves of the hoodie again, you looked down. “Can’t. Physically unable. Never going to happen.”

John B paused at the coldness in your voice. You were obviously upset but he still wasn’t sure where all of this was coming from. Plus, let’s be real. John B was a teenage boy at the end of the day; female anatomy was not his strong suit in any way. “Oh, okay. Um, is there like a problem or-”

“Rafe caused it.”

--

The Cameron house was cold. Sunlight filled the room, casting some warmth across the hardwood floor but you made no effort to enjoy it. Rose had just dropped a salad off at the door and told you that DCS would be visiting today, to get your shit together and not to mess anything up or Ward would go after your friends. You didn’t know whether to believe him or not, but you had nothing left to go off of. You hadn’t seen your friends in weeks, and you didn’t know if they even bothered to look for you.

DCS had yet to make any checkups on you and your brother since your dad disappeared, minus the one that John B narrowly avoided by jumping from the car when you thankfully weren’t home. You figured Ward had paid them off for so long, but now that John B was lost to sea, they were likely to get suspicious. 

Which meant they were coming to talk to you. Alone.

Perfect.

Forcing your tired and bruised body to your feet, you made your way into the attached bathroom to soak under the hot water and formulate a plan. If DCS did opt to talk to you, there had to be a way to get a silent SOS across. You didn’t know how, but you would come up with something, even if Rafe and Ward followed your every move. 

After soaking up most of the hot water, you finished getting ready for the day, pulling on a pair of shorts and one of John B’s t-shirts that had gotten mixed in your laundry. It would only be a matter of time before they’d come knocking at the door to collect you for show and tell.

Your eyes moved over everything in the room with hope something would pop up with an answer for all of your problems. And then you remembered the remaining food tray in the room. Ward or whoever dropped food to you typically left plastic wear to prevent you from using the typicaly cutlery as a resource, but that wasn’t the case today. Your eyes caught the metal knife that was intended to cut the meal, but you hadn’t touched it.

You grabbed the piece in your hand and moved slowly to to the door, running over JJ’s instructions in your head on how to possibly pop the lock using the tool. Pushing it between the door and the wall, you felt around for the horizontal lock, struggling to move it over. And then there was a pop, and your heart started racing.

Pressing your ear against the door, you listened for footsteps and voices, anything that would give you a warning of someone being nearby. When you didn’t hear anything, your fingers gently twisted the doorknob as far as it would go. A soft click told you it was yours to open as you pleased, so you did so, slowly.

The hallway was dim minus the sunlight leaking in from other rooms and your eyes caught sight of the large grandfather clock to your side. The ticking of the hands echoed down the silent hallway and you stood frozen for a moment before taking your first steps out. 

And nothing.

No yelling, no alarms, no impromptu body tackles to the floor. You could make this. You could make a run for it and they would be none the wiser until DCS was here.

Walking slowly down the hallway, you came to the foyer area where you could hear whispers from the kitchen filtering through. Moving into Sarah’s room, you glanced around for something, anything, that would help you get out of here without any suspicion. 

“Go get her. They’ll be here soon and I need to make sure she’s not going to run her mouth.”

“Dad, she’s going to-”

“Now, Rafe.”

You held your breath as Rafe mumbled an agreement and the sound of his footsteps echoed through the open room as he ascended the stairs. You needed to move, and move fast. Rafe cursed down the hall, likely figuring out that the door was unlocked and you clutched the butter knife tighter in your hand like it would offer any protection.

Ducking into Sarah’s walk-in closet, you scrambled to find an old phone or even her laptop if she’d left it behind but came up empty. “Shit,” You whispered to yourself and bent down to pull on a pair of her gym shoes since yours had been destroyed from years of wear. If nothing else, you needed to prepare to run. 

Grabbing a black hoodie from her shelves, you slipped it on over your t-shirt and pulled the hood up to keep your face hidden as much as possible. You would only have one shot at this, and you needed to make it count. 

Moving slowly toward Sarah’s bedroom door, you waited to see if you could hear Rafe’s presence down the hall but silence followed. The doorbell rang, Ward yelling out for his son in hopes that he would bring you down but Rafe didn’t answer.

“Hi, I’m Rebecca Sinclair with DCS. I’m presuming you’re Mr. Cameron.” 

Risking the step into the open, you walked out of Sarah’s room and kept your body pressed against the wall so you would be out of view for Ward and the DCS rep but could see their conversation.

“That would be me. Come in, can I get you something to drink?”

Rebecca shook her head. “This should be fairly quick. Where is Miss Routledge? I have to do an individual check in with her and then one with you as the legal guardian.”

“Let me go see where she’s at. She’s been having a really hard time with the loss of her brother and my daughter. They were such good friends, and-”

“Miss Routledge, please, Mr. Cameron.”

The DCS rep clearly wasn’t putting up with Ward. You took the chance to step forward into view, your mouth opening to yell out before someone’s hand clamped over your face and an arm yanked you back from view. You screamed against the action, the sound echoing throughout the hall.

“Apologies, she’s been crying all day. I’ll go grab her.”

Body thrashing, you attempted to pull out of Rafe’s grasp but he doubled down on his grip, even when you attempted to bite his hand. 

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll kill you!” He hissed in your ear as he dragged you down the hallway back into the room you’d seen for days upon days. Rafe tried to close the door as quietly as possible while still corralling you in his arms.

He slammed you against the bed covers, knee driving into your stomach as he kept his hand over your mouth. You cried out at the force, tears springing to your eyes at the pain that followed. You tried to push against his chest so he would get off, his other hand tightening around your throat causing the air to stop its way into your lungs.

You choked, eyes going wide as you stared back at him in hopes that he would find some sort of empathy and forgiveness, but cold eyes met yours. 

“I told you to shut the fuck up, you useless Pogue. I should kill you for-”

“Rafe.” Ward’s voice was demanding enough that his son stopped speaking but continued to glare at you. “Move your hand.”

Rafe complied, taking his hand from your throat but keeping the one on your mouth. You continued to push at him until he dropped more of his weight into the knee on your stomach and you cried again.

Ward’s face came into view, his sickly fake smile on his face as he held a small syringe into your view. “You could’ve just listened, you know? And we wouldn’t have to go to these lengths.”

He wasn’t gentle as he pushed the needle into your skin, subjecting you to whatever sedative he’d claimed good enough to handle your outburst. 

Your body went quiet within seconds, muscles relaxing and a numbness spreading from limb to limb. Your imaginary fight with Rafe ended and tears fell from your eyes at the helpless feeling. After a moment, Rafe moved his hand and shifted off of you as Ward tossed a spare blanket over your form.

“Go to your room, I’ll handle this.” 

You could tell Rafe wanted to disagree with Ward’s directions, but with a final glare your way, he removed himself from the room. Ward watched as your expression drooped, eyes blinking slower as the medicine kicked in. 

“I told you, you’ll never see them again.”

Heavy tears blinked from your eyes as you tried to fight through, tried to stay awake to warn the woman downstairs of your horrendous conditions, of how damaged they’d left you. But you couldn’t, despite all your efforts, you couldn’t. 

And as your vision faded to black, all you could think of was your brother and how you wanted to be with him again, more than anything in the world. 

--

And now, John B was going to be sick to his stomach so he stood up to pace while fighting the bile in his throat. Rafe Cameron. Rafe Cameron took away something you’d never even had a chance to consider.

“Did he…” The open ended question made John B dizzy at the thought of everything that you’d gone through, and when you shook your head no, he choked out a cough instead of the lunch he was threatening to leave in the bush.

You watched him from your spot on the stairs, heart racing as you recounted everything you’d told Kie earlier that day. “There was so much, um, scar tissue from the kicking…and the drugs. A-and they said it caused permanent damage that even if I wanted to get pregnant, I wouldn’t make it long.”

“When did you find out? The hospital? Or-or-” John B stopped pacing, his hand tugging at his hair to keep him from absolutely raging in the cemetery.

“It was when you got arrested,” You continued to explain around your tears before he lost his chill. “There was so much bleeding and… I didn’t know what to do…so I told Pope, and his dad took me to the hospital and-”

“Pope knows?” John B had never sounded so upset at the idea of one of his best friends finding out this information before he did. You were his sister, his other half no matter what happened. He wanted you to trust him, to lean on him for everything and anything you wanted. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrugged lightly, your voice cracking as you spoke, “Because I’m embarrassed? And ashamed and JJ’s going to leave when he finds out and-”

John B picked you up from the stairs and held you so tightly, he could’ve sworn you disappeared. His chest shook with your sobs as you sunk into the embrace. You weren’t even 19 yet and the possibility of growing a family with your boyfriend, John B’s best friend, was practically non-existent. 

Adoption was always an option, but John B knew what you were grieving, because he had almost grieved it when he lost Sarah on that table in Nassau. Plus, let’s not lie, the chances of you all getting your shit together and getting approved for that kind of thing were slipping away by the day. There was still so much time in your lives (you hoped), that you shouldn’t be hearing this news at such a young age, but like you said, life had been so cruel. 

John B stood there, with you in his arms, for as long as you’d let him. You cried for most of it, but a part of you was relieved he knew. You had tried to keep the conversation away as long as possible, like if you didn’t speak of it, you’d never have to accept that it was real. But it was, and you had to come to the realization that John B wouldn’t be an uncle to kids that you’d created on your own, that JJ wouldn’t ever get to redeem himself as a Dad to kids of his own, that you’d never get that experience.

 “I’m so sorry, I… I should’ve been there, I should’ve never left without you,” John B apologized and placed his hand on the back of your head to hold you closer. “God, I shouldn’t have-I didn’t mean for this to happen. I never meant for any of this to happen.” 

 “‘S not your fault,” You mumbled, every word being so honest. It had taken a lot of thought, but you couldn’t and you wouldn’t blame John B for what he’d done. He was a terrified kid, and you were too in your own ways. He was running for his life and you were watching from the sidelines. Older and younger. Brother and sister. Trapped in this horrible spiral life had given you.

“What are we looking for?”

An unsuspecting voice had you and John B diving for a hiding spot, your brother tugging you behind a gravestone that would keep both of you from prying eyes. John B held a finger to his lips, teary eyes making contact with yours as you were wrenched out of your heartbreaking conversation and back into reality. 

Keeping his hand on your shoulder to hold you out of view, John B peeked around the gravestone to see two figures wandering the cemetery with a lantern, obviously looking for something other than a deceased loved one. 

“We’re looking for an angel. A gatekeeper. One that looks a bit like her. Hello, Stede Bonnet,” A woman answered the question. “Isn’t that a beauty? Excellent, come on.”

You shivered, whether from the cool stone against your back or fear, you didn’t know and risked glancing over to see the two figures investigating another grave a few feet away from you. They were pulling out heavy tools in an attempt to open whatever was lying inside. 

“Shit,” John B whispered as you watched the woman place the amulet you’d found in the shipwreck into the stone, the headstone scraping open as she did. You quickly recognized the man as the one who had caught you and JJ while diving and again in the hospital, so that left this woman to be his boss.

After a moment of silence and more scraping noises, they disappeared under the stone, down into the tomb that lay beneath. Thunder cracked overhead and you jumped, grabbing onto John B’s arm in surprise. 

He moved away slowly and your grip tightened to stop him. “John B!”

“Shh, just stay behind me. We’re so not done with that conversation, by the way.”

You shuffled out slowly in fear of someone getting the jump on the two of you. John B paused in front of the headstone that the two people from earlier read; the angel statue had an outstretched hand, which you followed to the tomb they disappeared in.

“The gatekeeper will guide the way,” John B repeated as he followed your gaze. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit,” You gasped out in shock, realizing they very much had figured out the words on the amulet faster than you’d planned. “Do you think…”

“They’ll be fine,” John B reassured, although you couldn’t tell if he was speaking more to himself or you. “They’re smart. Right?”

You tilted your head in consideration. “Better than us being down there.”

“Yeah, yeah. Way better than us.”

“Pope’s super smart.”

“Right and Cleo’s got her knife.”

“Sarah’s not dumb, she’ll be fine.”

“Kie can have her moments, but-”

Your reasoning was cut off as the headstone shifted and the two individuals from earlier climbed out. John B pushed you behind him further into the shadows of the building as you watched on with curious gazes. Lightning lit up the sky before thunder boomed around you, the storm clearly moving in closer despite your wishes. 

You needed to find your friends. And fast.

--

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ask me anything

[mrfancyfoot]

Today I logged into facebook for the first time in nearly 4 years and went through every profile in my friends list (like ~300) and purged out all the assholes (anyone who openly voted for Trump, other conservatives, and those who I strongly believe did). I've done this before so there weren't many but there are a number that have been wishy-washy with being outward in their bigotry and it helps me keep a mental list of people that deserve only the most very basic level of respect that I can muster because they certainly do not respect me nor people I care about nor many of their fellow human beings. Most disheartening is seeing friends and family who continue to put effort into engaging with people who argue in bad faith and weaponized ignorance.

I dated a man for nearly a year who went to women's and pro-choice rallies and liberal groups with me and said many times that he "was on my side" but turned out to be lying the whole time because he knew I definitely wouldn't date him otherwise. I'd known him for years before since we ran in the same friend circle. I wasn't the only one he had fooled. He slowly lifted the mask until we were constantly arguing because of his bigoted and racist remarks. His favorite thing to do was act oppressed and show me the most obvious Russian propaganda that he would get upset at me for fact-checking and asking for real sources. He wanted to argue, so what he hated most was when I refused to argue with him. Nothing I said was going to change his mind, so I wasn't going to humor or tolerate it (we didn't last long after that point, but by that time, I was afraid of leaving without an excuse that would be "good enough" for him). He legitimately wants civil war so that he can play survival hero and feel validated in his hatred. It didn't come on quickly and a lot of the comments started as "odd" off the cuff things through the time that we dated. He was very much pretending to be a kind person and once really called out, that pretense dropped. He thought I was more like him and that a lot of my regard and kindness for others is "fake." Because that's what a lot of people like that do - they fake being kind for optics, they are not actually kind people, and therefore presume that everyone else is doing the same thing. It's given me major trust issues.

Can't say this enough: these people feel validation in their bigotry when you continue to associate with them. They need to be dropped. They need to learn that their shitty beliefs mean that they get shunned. Make them feel uncomfortable. Quit tiptoeing around and coddling their delicate little feelings because they might get upset. It's okay for them to get upset because someone was mean and told them they don't like them because they think gay and trans people shouldn't exist. I once made a post about how a raped 11 year old child should never be expected to give birth, was told that it was "god's will" and like 5 people piled on the guy so badly he told us to stop being "mean" to him and was terrified to talk to me at work ever again (I have since cut all ties and no longer work with him). I'm personally extremely tired of playing nice for the sake of possibly "converting" someone - especially because you can be polite in telling someone to fuck off with their beliefs. Their beliefs are dangerous, are going to result in people losing their lives, and a frightening number of them are completely okay with that. We need to stop being tolerant of intolerance. It is okay to cut people (including family) from your life when all their presence does is bring you stress and harm.

In a similar vain, don't let the people who chose not to vote (or "protest voted") stick their heads in the sand to escape blame. They are just as culpable as anyone else who directly voted for Trump and other conservatives. They need to grow the fuck up.

For a lot of liberals, it's really uncomfortable to be confrontational and feel like you're being intolerant of someone, but it's way past time to play hardball and call them out instead of coddling them, especially as we're going into the holiday season where many of us will be seeing family with shitty views and targeted family that may need someone to stand up for them. Let them know they're shitty and inappropriate and a disappointment and unworthy of your regard because they certainly lack it for others. Obviously still be safe, but many of us very likely aren't losing anything of value in that scenario. Not having bigoted family members in my life in any way has made me so much happier.

A helpful tip to those who may find themselves in a confrontation: do not stay engaged. Let your views be known and then disengage. Because many of them love to argue and feel like they're defending themselves (many are addicted to those feelings of hatred and overcoming "oppression"), what they don't like is being ignored and feeling like you're rinsing your hands of them. They don't deserve your stress and constant efforts. There are ways to open a dialogue when they are willing to discuss civilly with an open mind, but if they bring intolerance, just shut it down.

(via jhig8bd0cczd1.png (PNG Image, 744 × 810 pixels))

[cuubism]

If you’re taking prompts, I’d love more chronic pain retired!dream stuff!

oh yeah we need emotional support dream hurt/comfort today

( i assume you meant in regards to this fic )

-

For the first few months after dying and becoming human, nearly all Dream had known was pain.

It was an adjustment, to fold and cram an amorphous existence into a rigid human body. And there was the psychic change, the constant feeling of stepping and missing a stair, as he instinctively reached for the Dreaming and found it gone. He had thought, then, that he regretted his choice, that perhaps he should simply have died, or, stranger, that he should have remained Dream--though, by the end, that was not truly an option for him.

Strange, to miss something that had wrapped like a pillory about his neck for so long. But that was change. The familiar, sometimes, was a comfort even in the suffering it brought.

Eventually, he decided that he did not, in fact, wish that he had died, or that he had remained Endless. Hob had cautioned patience during that time and he had been correct. It helped, too, to eventually learn that the level of physical pain he was experiencing was, in fact, abnormal. Dream was often tired and struggled to find the wherewithal to do anything about it. But Hob seemed determined to make it better for him, to the extent that he could.

One of these ways was through the application of comfortable items. Dream now had an extensive collection of blankets, including a weighted one that helped him sleep, and a heated electric one that soothed a lot of his muscle soreness and which he'd taken to essentially living under on cold days. Sometimes Hob would leave in the morning to go to class, leaving Dream curled up on the couch under his blanket, only to return hours later and find Dream still there. "You're like a cat," he'd say, running his hand through Dream's hair.

Dream thought cats were favorable creatures to be compared to.

On this night, he was once again wrapped in his heated blanket, curled up on the couch. Stubbornly drawing in his sketchbook despite the persistent ache in his shoulder. It was kind of his own fault, that. Slightly too vigorous in bed last night. But Dream had been restless and he'd wanted Hob to be vigorous and he didn't regret it, though it was annoying him now.

He was shading in the bird he'd sketched, piece of charcoal held sideways in his fingers, when he realized. Despite the ache in his shoulder. Despite the lingering stiffness in his hips. Despite the fact that he was still waiting for Hob to get home and so couldn't yet crawl on top of him and take advantage of heat sources on both sides. He felt... content.

He didn't realize, until he was sitting there, sketchpad in hand, blanket around his shoulders, pain a distant ache deep in the muscles of his back... that part of what had been unsettling him so in these recent weeks was actually... a lack of another pain.

Stepping. Missing the stair.

But this missed stair was not the familiar touch of the Dreaming. It was a darkness. He kept going from one day to the next, stepping forward, and expecting darkness to swallow him. Without knowing he was expecting it. Without knowing it was there. Falling, and then jerking awake, falling and jerking awake again--when the darkness didn't catch him.

His conversation with Hob came back to him.

How much pain are you in? Not right now--I mean usually.

Upon what metric is the scale?

Upon what metric?

By the time Hob got home, Dream had paused drawing, his charcoal suspended over the page, staring off into the distance. Lost in thought. He didn't come back to himself until Hob had crouched in front of him and was swiping his fingers over Dream's cheeks. "Love?"

Dream didn't realize until then that he was crying. Just silently, tears streaming down his face. Hob watched him with concern, but waited for him to speak.

"I--" Dream started, and his voice cracked. He tried again. "I. Hob."

"Yeah, love?"

"I. Don't think I hurt anymore."

Hob's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" He well knew that Dream's body wouldn't just stop hurting, not for good.

Dream wiped at his eyes. This, another adjustment: his body was so much more susceptible to visible displays of emotion than it once was.

"Before," he said, and didn't have to specify when he meant. "It hurt. I did not realize."

He had been so used to the way he felt that he did not realize he was feeling anything. He didn't realize, until the pain left him.

"My shoulder still hurts today," he continued. "But. I do not. And. Regardless. I want to be here."

"And I want you here," Hob said, and pulled Dream close, wrapping him in his arms. Dream pressed his face into Hob's shoulder, tears streaming again, but they did not feel sad. They felt cleansing.

"Come here," Hob said, and sat beside him on the couch. As Dream had fantasized, he pulled Dream close, letting him sprawl atop him, wrapped in his blanket, absorbing Hob's body heat. Dream clung to him, legs twisted up with Hob's. It made his hip twinge, but he didn't care.

"I'm glad you're not hurting," Hob whispered, lips brushing Dream's hair. "I'm so glad."

Dream was still hurting, in a sense, but the pervasive soul-deep ache he'd accepted as foundational to his existence, so foundational he'd stopped noticing it entirely, had gone. An ancient weight had lifted off his chest. He felt breathless with it.

His shoulder hurt more now from how he had his arms wrapped around Hob and it would probably hurt tomorrow but if this was the exchange then he would not take it back.

All the human pains in the world in trade. He would not trade back.

[lemoniiiiiii]

need a colin zabel fic where you are his annoying co worker yapping about your day while sitting on his desk (and on his files) swinging your feet and accidentally brushing your foot against his inner thigh and it makes things very much awkward and definitely brings up many feelings to the surface🩷

one on one

(colin zabel x reader) in where bothering your favorite co-worker results in something more than you expected... content: fluff, colin being a tired cutie a/n: this request was sooooo cute, thank you for sending it in! i love writing this man he's the sweetest ever.

--

"hey, you’re back!" you say, standing from your desk as colin walks past. without a second thought, you fall into step beside him, weaving through the bustling precinct as the noise of ringing phones and low chatter surrounds you.

"hey, y/l/n," he murmurs, glancing at you briefly before his eyes go back to the case file in his hand.

"a bunch of us are heading to the bar tonight," you say, nudging him lightly. "you in?"

he sighs, his shoulders slumping just a little. "uh… i don’t think i can—"

"colin, c'mon." you raise an eyebrow, keeping your tone light but insistent.

"i’m alright, really."

"seriously," you say, quickening your pace to get ahead of him, backing into his office until you feel the hard edge of his desk and hop up onto it. "that case can wait. you need a break, or you’re gonna burn out and be no use to anyone."

he stops short, eyes narrowing a bit, and lifts an eyebrow. "you’re sitting on my files."

"i… realize that now," you say with a small, sheepish smile. "but this works in my favor. i haven’t seen you all day. can we just talk for a minute?"

knowing you won’t take no for an answer, colin sighs, placing the file in his hand beside you, signaling that you have his attention. you launch into your day—going over the calls you took, the quirky regulars, and the case you were working on. but after a while, you notice colin’s mind has drifted; he’s listening, but his focus is… somewhere else, his arms crossed, brow furrowed.

"earth to zabel—hello?" you nudge his leg playfully, and just then he snaps out of it, seeming to have had some realization. he reaches for his files, but you shift to block his path, mirroring his movements.

"colin."

he stops, and without thinking, you place a hand on his chest to balance yourself on the desk's edge. the warmth and firmness catch you off guard, and when his gaze drops to your hand, then meets yours, heat rises to your cheeks. he’s waiting for you to say something, but all you can think about is… well, him.

"someone’s been working out…" you mumble, barely realizing the words have slipped out.

colin blinks, his own face turning red. "um, what?"

oh god, did you really just say that out loud?

"nothing—sorry." you stammer, quickly removing your hand.

he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. "well, i'm glad someone noticed. didn’t think it was showing yet."

"that makes it sound like you're pregnant"

"i- you know what i mean"

"anyways… uh—are you coming tonight?" you ask, watching as colin moves around to the other side of his desk, meticulously organizing a pile of files. he seems almost too focused on straightening the edges and aligning them, as if using the task to avoid your question.

finally, he looks up, giving you apologetic smile. "rain check?"

you groan in exaggerated disappointment, crossing your arms. "seriously?"

"hey—tell you what." he points at you with a small grin, as if making an official deal. "i'll take you to that, er, new place downtown you’ve been wantin' to try."

you blink, surprised. that restaurant was fancier than you’d expected him to suggest. "that’s… expensive," and intimate, you think, though you keep that part to yourself.

colin shrugs, nonchalant. "it's no problem," he says, then quickly adds, "i mean, of course, only if you're comfortable. we can just hit the bar or whatever if that's more your style."

you can't quite figure out how to respond to that, so you fall back on your usual banter. “you sure you want more one-on-one time with me?”

his expression shifts in an instant, eyes widening as he realizes how his offer sounds—like he just asked you out on a real, actual dinner date. he flushes a little, rubbing the back of his neck once again. "is that… is that a problem?" he asks, the tone of his voice dropping slightly.

you tilt your head, feeling mischevious now that the tables have turned. "not really," you say with a grin. "for me, at least. you, on the other hand… well, you’re about to lose that whole ‘working out’ physique pretty fast.”

he laughs a little. "i think i’ll survive."

--

tags (ask to be added or removed anytime!): @fear-is-truth @juliamaximoff @jazz-berry @violetsghosts @quickreider @tiffysdeath @honeymoon8 @wcnderlnds @lacucarachapisser @xrag-dollx @oceanblvd111 @andiloveher @vi0l3tgard3ns

[lucyblue101]

You are so MEAN to me 🤧

Satoru x reader

Pure fluff

It had been a long, exhausting day for both of you. The moment you stepped through the door, you were already kicking off your shoes, dreaming of sinking into the couch and enjoying a few minutes of quiet before even thinking about anything else. You'd barely sat down when you heard the door open behind you. Satoru walked in, his usual smile a little softer, a little more tired than usual. But the moment his eyes met yours, a spark returned to them.

"Hey," he said, crossing the room in long strides to stand before you. “So, I was thinking…” He leaned over, hands on his knees, bringing his face closer to yours. “How about some cuddle time?”

You smiled, reaching out to gently pat his arm. "Hey, Satoru. I just need a moment to decompress, alright? Been a pretty long day.”

His face fell immediately, the slight furrow in his brow deepening. “Oh.” He straightened up slowly, staring down at you like you’d just told him you were moving to another continent.

“Just give me a second to breathe, alright?” you reassured him. “I’ll be with you in just a few minutes.”

He stood there, looking at you in utter disbelief, then scoffed softly. “Oh, sure. I get it. I’m… too much for you right now.” He crossed his arms, jutting his lower lip out dramatically. “I just wanted to cuddle, you know. Just wanted to feel loved after an insanely difficult day. But I can see that’s just… impossible for you.”

“Satoru…” you started, holding back a smile. But he was already turning on his heel, practically flouncing out of the room.

"Unbelievable,” he muttered to himself as he stormed down the hallway. "And after everything I’ve done today, too."

You watched him disappear into the bedroom, the door swinging shut with an exaggerated finality. For a moment, you sat there, debating if you really wanted to go in right away. But you knew exactly what he was up to he was trying to make you feel bad. This was Satoru Gojo in all his dramatic, sensitive glory, and you could practically picture him curled up in a ball on the bed, sulking.

After a sigh, you pushed yourself up and made your way to the bedroom, pushing open the door to see exactly what you expected: Satoru, lying on his side, knees pulled up to his chest, and a pitiful pout on his face as he stared off toward the wall. He was practically radiating gloom.

“Really?” you said, leaning against the doorframe.

He didn’t move, but his voice came out muffled. “Don’t talk to me. I’ve been thoroughly neglected. Abandoned. Left to wither away with my poor, broken heart.”

You rolled your eyes but walked over to the bed, lying down beside him. He shifted slightly, giving you just enough room to fit yourself next to him, but he still refused to look at you.

“Oh, now you’re here,” he said, voice heavy with melodrama. “Now that I’ve been left alone for… what, five minutes? But who’s counting?”

You pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, letting your fingers trace gentle circles along his side. “Poor thing. You must’ve had it so rough today.”

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice tinged with relief. “Finally, someone who understands.”

You bit back another smile, nodding along as he continued, clearly in full whining mode now. “I’m always fighting, you know? Always running around, saving the day. And I don’t complain. I never complain. All I ask for is a little appreciation. A little affection. And you…” He paused, looking up at you with those big, blue eyes, managing to look completely heartbroken. “You, of all people, won’t even give me that?”

Your thumb traced along his cheek as you murmured, “I’m sorry, Satoru. That was so mean of me.”

“Yes! It was,” he said, nodding vehemently, his face lighting up with righteous indignation. “All I wanted was some cuddles, maybe a few kisses, and instead, I was cast aside like yesterday’s leftovers!”

“Not leftovers,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “More like… dessert. I saved the best for last.”

He sniffled dramatically, and you could hear his breathing catch as if he were on the brink of tears. “If you really loved me…” He gave a little pause, like he was about to say something devastating. You both knew exactly where this was going.

“If you love me,” he continued, his voice shaking slightly, “you’ll rub my feet. They hurt so much from all the running around today, from all the sacrifices I make.”

You snorted at the absurdity of it. “Satoru,” you said, the smile tugging at your lips despite yourself, “I do love you, so so much. But there is no way in hell I’m touching your feet.”

His face fell instantly. The small sniffle, the dramatic sigh—it was almost comical how quickly he shifted into full-blown pout mode. “Oh…” he said, voice impossibly wounded. “Well, if that’s the case, I guess my back, shoulders, stomach, and chest will do fine. Thank you for your service.”

You resisted the urge to laugh, giving him a soft but firm push. “You’re such a big baby.”

“I am not a baby,” he insisted, although the way he curled up into your side, resting his head on your chest, told a very different story. “I’m just… sensitive. You should know that by now.”

You sighed dramatically, knowing you’d never hear the end of it until you gave in. “Alright, fine,” you muttered, starting with a gentle rub to his lower back. “But you owe me, Gojo.”

He sighed dramatically, the breath releasing like a contented sigh from a cat as he melted under your touch. "I already know," he whispered. "Just keep rubbing. That’s all I need.”

His voice dropped into a soft, needy tone, and you could feel his body go limp in your arms as you worked your way over his shoulders, easing out the tension that had been building there all day. He hummed softly, closing his eyes and letting himself fully relax into you. It was so ridiculous, but you couldn’t deny that he had you wrapped around his finger.

“You know, this is how you show your love,” he said with a satisfied sigh, still lying comfortably against you.

“Sure, whatever you say,” you muttered, rubbing his chest now as he melted into your touch. “But I’m only doing this because I love you.”

“Exactly,” he said, clearly content. “Now you get it.”

As you continued to rub his back, shoulders, and chest, Satoru’s body gradually grew heavier, his breathing steadying as he relaxed more and more. He still maintained that little bit of drama, but now it was mixed with contentment and a hint of a grin that he couldn’t quite hide.

You smiled down at him, knowing full well that Satoru Gojo was a handful. But even if he could be ridiculously dramatic, you loved him anyway—every ridiculous, pouty part of him.

Tag list (just let me know if you wanna go on it 🥹)

@canigotosleep--plz

@itsafairytalekay

@haruhatake

@hargun-s

@tibibibi123

@moonchhu

@mistymuii

I really appreciate feedback and would like to know what everyone thinks 🫶🏻

[a-stitch-in-time-and-space]

"Dad," Jake begins, shuffling a bit from foot to foot.

Uh-no, he thinks. He can pinpoint how worried Jake is by the mixture of movement, tone of his voice, and inability to look him in the eye. Did someone die?!

"Yes Jake," he says, giving him his full attention -- earnest and soft.

"Dad, I... have something to tell you... um... and you can't get mad about it or weird about it. And you can't interrupt until I've finished telling you, okay?"

"Sure."

Another second. Two. "Dad I've been dating-"

"But that's great news Jake," he says, relief no-doubt visible on every inch of his face. "Why would I be anything but happy for you?"

"Dad!" Jake interrupts. "I'm dating Nog. And have been for awhile..."

That makes him pause for a second. Okay, Nog. Makes sense. They've been inseparable since Jake first arrived on the station.

"Why didn't you tell me before? I might have opinions about his uncle on occasion, but that's nothing to do with him. He's a fine Officer, bright, loyal, brave-" as he speaks he warms to the whole thing more and more. A few years ago he might have had his doubts, but... and sure, he'll invite Rom and Leeta around, which means having to invite Quark around, but it's a small price to pay. Overall a good family, good people, and some people who grow on you if you're on a space station with them for years on end.

Jake clears his throat. "I also... am dating... Ziyal."

He stops dead in his tracks.

"Tora Ziyal?"

Jake nods. "Do we know another Ziyal?"

"Dukat's daughter?"

Jake frowns. "Dad, I said you couldn't do anything until I was finished."

Ben's own frown mirrors his son's, but he breaks it to hold up his hands. "Alright, alright. You're dating Nog and Ziyal. I'm sure Commander Kira will be happy about it."

Yeah. Yeah, okay. Dukat's daughter, but hasn't he long abdicated the right to come calling for in-law heart to hearts? Ben certainly won't be busting out the real peppers for him if he ever does mysteriously find out, but Kira has been Ziyal's default parent for awhile now and is naturally always welcome - and Ziyal herself is an up-and-coming artist, lots of groundbreaking work being platformed on Bajoran-Cardassian identity, explains why Jake's been writing so much on the subject for awhile now. Kira has every right to be proud, and even though the Dukat thing niggles in the back of Ben's mind, he's sure he can put it aside for hers and Jake's sake.

Ah, and Elim Garak would have to be invited too, come to think about it... he'll have to think about that one, but at least it'll make for an interesting dinner at this point.

"And Ezri."

"What about Dax?" Ben asks, jolted out of meal-and-seating-planning (well obviously Kira and Quark can't be seated next to each other and he doesn't trust Garak next to Rom, and he thinks Leeta and Ziyal might get on well)--

"I'm also dating Ezri. Well, it's early days, we're still... but I asked if I could tell you and she said yes, but she didn't want to be here when I did. I think Dax- uh, Worm-Dax that is, isn't sure how you'll feel about it, because you've known each other for a long time. But. Ezri's her own woman, you know."

He says the last part very seriously, like he's expecting disapproval, but Ben's not halfway through processing the first part, when the second part belatedly careens into him... "Dax?" he says, a little strangled.

Jake shrugs. "Ezri said if you could keep Jadzia and Curzon out of it, that would be great." A pause. "Especially Curzon. I know there's some memories or... but. I mean, if Dax accepts it then everyone should!"

He bites his lip a little, like he used to when he was much younger and was worried he'd gone too far with something or other.

"Dax..." Ben says faintly. And under his breath: "oh the trill-commission are going to love this..."

"We haven't broken any laws," Jake says, defiantly.

Ben puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. "A four-person interspecies romance? Oh, I'm sure you are."

Then pulls him into a hug, and adds: "the variation on cuisine and custom within a single meal will be an interesting experience for us all though. I think I know how I can make it work..."

Jake laughs, relieved, and hugs him back as he continues to talk.

*

*The big problems don't start until the wedding planning several years later... meal prep really is the least of it.

Jake and Ziyal: softTM, bond over shared sad-mother stories, being young civilians during wartime, art, both of them are connected to Bajor - bonus points that dukat and sisko would be in-laws

Jake and Nog: friends to married, ultimate tol and smol, worried Jake when Nog’s away, long-distant relationship, they already know they can live together - bonus points quark and sisko would be in-laws

Jake and Ezri: their brief interactions were Good Chemistry, he’d help her find her bearings as Ezri, so supportive, they’ve both come off age pretty similarly, soft beans, bonus points sisko and the worm would be confused as heck 

[holidayinhell]

CWs: captivity Whump, failed escape Whump.

“I know you have it.”

Whumper outstretched his palm. “Hand it over.”

Whumpee hesitated for a fraction of a second, eyes flickering with defiance and defeat.

As soon as Whumpee dropped the box cutter into his hand, Whumper’s fingers snapped closed around it. His cold gaze fell over the flimsy weapon with a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, just before tucking the cheap plastic knife into his back pocket. 

He shook his head in quiet disbelief.

“Oh, Whumpee…” he sighed.

Whumpee’s cheeks burned with shame. He never intended to use the box cutter maliciously. Or, at least, he knew he would never be capable of killing Whumper. He didn’t have a plan, he never did, he just needed to feel secure before he trying to find a way out of this fucking place.

After all, he was scheduled to die tomorrow. Surely Whumper didn’t expect him to accept his fate willingly. He had to fight back in order to stay alive.

“Sorry.” Whumpee whispered. 

He had so much to say, yet that was all that came out.

“Yeah.” Whumper murmured, “Me too.”

“I’m sorry…” Whumpee’s voice cracked. “Really, I wasn’t gonna hurt you, I, I don’t even think I could…”

“Sure, Whumps. I get it.” Whumper said in a soft, reassuring voice. He shifted awkwardly on his feet, exhaling. “You’ve been through a lot, I know.”

Whumpee’s shoulders sagged and he looked up at Whumper, searching his eyes for an ounce of compassion.

“But you fucked up big time.”

Whumpee’s breath hitched as he heard Whumper’s tone harden, the last trace of sympathy evaporating.

“Get up, Whumpee. I need you to turn around for me.”

His tone made it clear that any illusion of mercy was gone.

“Please. I’m sorry.”  Whumpee’s heartbeat thundered in his ears, panic bubbling in his chest. “I’ll do anything you want from here out, I’ll be good, I’ll listen--” 

Whumper laughed, a low, bitter sound. “Doesn’t make much of a difference now.”

“Turn around.”

“Please, just, give me a break. Just tonight. It’s my last night, I, I won’t try anything, please I swear to you!” Whumpee’s composure shattered as he choked out the words. “J-just, please, let me have tonight...”

“No.”

His gaze settled on Whumpee’s tear-streaked face.

“Sorry, Whumpee. You fucked up."

Whumper locked a pair of zip ties together behind Whumpee’s back. He instructed Whumpee to climb onto his cot, and made quick work of locking his ankles together too.

Tears gushed down Whumpee’s cheeks as the plastic ties snapped snugly into place.

“A box cutter. Really Whumpee?” Whumper’s grin grew, savoring the irony. “You risked it all, and that was your weapon of choice?”

Whumpee’s throat tightened, dread coiling in his stomach. His shoulders ached from the forced position, but he barely noticed, his mind was consumed with absolute terror. He could barely bring himself to look up as Whumper loomed over him.

“I’d laugh if it wasn’t so goddamn pitiful.” The tall man’s voice dripped with contempt. “The worst part is, well, I was gonna go easy on ya tomorrow. I picked up some good painkillers and booze to make it more comfortable for you.”

"You did?" Whumpee’s voice quivered, the hope fading from his eyes. “...really?”

“Heh, yeah. I wasn’t even going to tie you up.” 

Whumper leaned in, his tone dropping to a menacing whisper. “But now, comfort is off the table.”

Tears streamed down Whumpee’s cheeks. “I didn’t mean t--”

“But you did,” Whumper cut him off. “You did, and you went and fucked it all up didn’t ya?”

“I thought you liked me...” Whumpee mumbled, his words nearly swallowed by his own shame. “...don’t do this.”

Whumper shook his head as he rose to his feet. “It’s okay. You can still sleep on your side.”

“Whumper! PLEASE!”

“I can’t help you.” 

Whumper’s figure cast a long dark shadow across the wall next to the cot. 

Whumpee watched as the tall silhouette crossed into the light, swinging the heavy door closed with a thud, submerging Whumpee in total blackness.

((more Whump oneshots))

[gor3-hound]

ETERNITY — SUGURU GETO

a/n: hiii !! first geto fic on this account maybe?? shocker bcs i love him so bad... commission for @nexysworld !! love her so bad, pls check her out <3

cw: 18+ content, father-daughter incest, possessive behaviour, sheltered reader, mildly dubious consent, yandere-ish themes, very teeny tiny amount of religious themes, too. p in v, creampie, brief choking

Suguru Geto is not a man you would consider to be unkind, but there was very little affection within his actions. Your father was often patient with you - strict, but forgiving. When he touched you, it was always cold and clinical; always born out of necessity. 

Your mother had always been irrelevant to him, nothing more than a means to an end. That just so happened to be you, his daughter, and one and only heir. He had sensed the cursed energy within you the moment you were born, and he took you in to raise you on his own. He had no need for that woman anymore - she had served her purpose and bestowed him with a gift greater than any other.

Your life was free of troubles. Perhaps you did not get to play with the village children, but that was alright. You were allowed to play with the others within the compound. His followers were always kind to you, if not somewhat on edge in your presence. You did not understand it then, but now you realised the apprehension they held did not stem from your actions, but from fear of upsetting your father. You had been sheltered, yes, but you found you did not crave much else. You were well-fed, well looked after… It was hard to feel caged when the compound was all you had known.

Your youthful naivety could not last forever, and Suguru knew this. He dreaded your growth with each passing year, waiting for the questions that would come. He could keep you from the outside world, but he could not keep the outside world from you. He had many visitors, people looking to be cured of their ailments. He could keep you from watching these interactions, but he could see the way your curious eyes shone as you watched them come and go.

You asked him about the outside world only once, shortly after he had ‘cured’ a young child. You had been excited to see someone closer to your age, but his words quickly shut you down.

“The child has been plagued with demons,” He had told you simply, eyes cold as he glanced down at you. “I can keep them at bay, yes. But it would not do you well to socialise with others such as him. They will corrupt you.”

It had not convinced you entirely, and he could see that in your eyes. With a small frown, he kneeled before you, tilting his head to the side. “I extracted one from him. Would you like to see it?”

You nodded, as expected. Hopeful curiosity glimmering in your eyes, the idea of being shown something new and dangerous exciting to you. He sighs, allowing the cursed spirit he had absorbed free. He had no worry - he knew it was safely under his control. But he could see the fear in your eyes as it stalked towards you, the way you instinctively backed up, glancing at your father for protection.

“Daddy-” 

He lets its maw open inches from your body, the acrid stench of its breath filling the room as it goes to attack. He watches, unblinking, as you tremble and beg for his help, tears streaming down your face. Even still, he waits a few more seconds before driving his cursed tool through the spirit, exorcising it with ease.

“Do you see now why I cannot let you outside? It is far too dangerous for you.” You nod, clinging to him as you sob into the fabric of his robes. He lets you, holding you close to him. “I do not wish to see you hurt. Promise me you won’t ask to leave the compound again.”

“I promise.”

The years pass, and you do not dare mention leaving the compound again. Even as you reach adulthood, the memory of the demon you faced as a child keeps you biting back any requests of more freedom.

Something in your father has changed - you’re not sure what it is, but it leaves you with a lingering sense of unease whenever you cross his path. His gaze has become sharper, watching your every movement like he’s waiting for something. What it is, you’re unsure of. Your pulse is constantly racing when you’re forced to be in his proximity for more than a few seconds, but your brain can’t register what it is about him that’s making you so tense.

Your realisation comes to you slowly. You’ve seen that look before in some of them men that have wandered around the compound. Not directed at you, but you’re able to identify it all the same. 

Hunger.

Your realisation doesn’t come with any changes in his actions, but you can see in the subtle curve of his lips that he knows. He can sense that you act differently around him. Geto is an intelligent man, and it’s clear he planned for you to find out from the start. Months pass by without any changes in routine. You rarely see your father unless he deems it necessary to address you, his followers often being the ones responsible for ensuring you attend meals and stay within the compound.

Then, suddenly, he comes to you.

It’s the middle of the night when he wakes you with a gentle caress on your cheek. It’s one of the most affectionate touches he’s given you since you were a little girl, fingertips gently brushing over your cheekbones. When you meet his eyes, your heart stops beating for a moment.

His gaze is anything but kind. His jaw is set tight, and in that moment you realised how naive you were to think ignoring his glances would be enough to keep him at bay. Seeing your eyes widen with fear is enough for a sharp grin to spread across his face, his hand shifting to grasp at your hair, tilting your head back harshly.

“You're looking so beautiful these days, sweetheart.” Suguru murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck, free hand grasping at your hip. “I thought about resisting my impulses, but it’s as if you were made to tempt me. Pure, kind, beautiful. Forbidden fruit is always said to be the sweetest, but I had never thought temptation would come to me in the form of my very own daughter.”

You stiffen under him, hands pushing at his chest. He tuts disapprovingly, his fingers slackening as he pulls his hand from your hair. Suguru slides his fingers down the side of your neck, delicately wrapping around your throat before he squeezes.

“Shh, calm down. It’s only me, bunny.” He purrs the nickname, one he has not used in years in an attempt to soften you, It works, momentarily, but your muscles still feel fraught with tension. He leans down, fingers tightening around your neck in a warning as he presses his lips to yours.

His mouth is hot against yours as he kisses you. He keeps the pace leisurely, almost teasing as he presses his chapped lips against yours, tongue coaxing your lips open. The hand on your hip slides under your shirt in a way that makes you jolt, immediately breaking the kiss.

“Daddy, wait-”

Suguru scoffs, raising a brow at you. “That makes you sound so childish. You're a big girl now, aren't you?”

“D-Dad?” You correct, feeling yourself squirm under his harsh gaze.

“Better.” He breathes out, lowering his head once more to lathe his tongue along the flesh of your throat, licking hotly at your quickening pulse beneath the skin. The hand on your bare slides higher, dragging the fabric of your shirt up until he’s cupping your breast, thumb brushing gently over your nipple. You gasp softly at the pleasure it brings, something that brings an unfamiliar heat searing through your veins as wetness pools in the gusset of your panties.

He grins at the gasp he draws from your lips, teeth gently nipping at your skin as he releases your throat. His thumb flicks over your nipple once more as he drags his other hand down, moving to feel the wetness seeping through your underwear.

“I promised I’d protect you, bunny, and I meant it.” He murmurs, tracing a finger down the middle of the dampened fabric. He feels you tremble as he brushes over your clit, so he presses down gently to hear you whimper.

“I meant it,” he repeats, “I won’t hurt you, I just want you to feel good. You trust me, don’t you?

It’s a question, but it sounds more like a threat. You felt that familiar sense of unease in the back of your mind. You hadn’t experienced these things before, but you weren’t clueless.  You knew this was wrong, that he shouldn’t be touching you like this, but as his thumb replaces his finger so he could gently rub circles into your clit, your apprehension melts.

“Good girl.” He praises, words smooth and sweet. His fingers hook in the waistband of your panties, and he slowly slides them down your legs. His eyes hone in on your cunt, slick with arousal that he caused. “Look at you.”

Shame burns your face as you close your thighs, attempting to hide yourself from his view. Suguru grabs your knees, prying your thighs away before sliding his body between them to keep them from closing again.

“What’s wrong? You said you trusted me, bunny. Why are you trying to hide from me?”

“I wasn’t, I… I’m sorry.” You reply, gaze dropping nervously. Your heart pounds almost painfully in your chest, feeling more ashamed for disappointing your father.

“I don’t want to punish you, darling. Don’t you want to be good for me?” He says quietly, his tone almost condescending. He doesn’t wait for a reply before he sinks a finger into your tight cunt, a groan rumbling his chest as he feels you squeezing the digit. “Such an innocent little thing. So tight and wet.”

Suguru pulls back briefly only to remove his clothing, settling between your legs once more. His thumb presses down the base of his cock, allowing himself to align the tip with your dripping hole. “This may hurt at first, but you need to relax for me. Can you be a good girl?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, voice soft and nervous. Suguru presses forward, sliding himself inch by inch inside of your tight heat until his cock is pressed to your cervix. Tears prick at your eyes from the sudden burn, your chest heaving with heavy breaths as he pauses to allow you to adjust to his size.

“Shh, shh. You’ll be alright, bunny. Your body was made for me, after all. It will feel good soon.” He promises, gently rocking his hips. “My sweet girl. I’d never have another have you like this. No, it has to be me. I won’t ever let anyone hurt you.”

He tries to be gentle with you - he has no intention to hurt his sweet little girl - but the way you squeeze around him feels divine. He’s sure he’s never felt anything so perfect before, feeling as though he’s being driven mad as your slick walls cling to his cock, sucking him greedily every time he starts to pull out. Suguru is not one to lose control, but he can’t find it within himself to hold back as he starts to fuck into you with earnest, pounding you into the mattress until you’re crying out with every thrust.

His hand falls to rest on your pelvis, thumb brushing your clit in a way that makes you mewl, arching into his touch. He grunts as you squeeze tighter around his cock, his hips stuttering as he rubs circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips buck, and he slams into you harder, bruising your cervix each time his hips snap forward. You’re so tight and warm and perfect around him, and he’s not sure how much longer he’s going to last inside of you.

He watches through hooded, lust-glazed eyes as your body coils up tight, the prettiest moans and whimpers spilling from your hips as you come undone around his length. His teeth clench at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him, the grip on your hip turning bruising as he fucks into you erratically, chasing his own release. His hips stutter before he stills, spilling deep inside of you with a low groan. His eyes squeeze shut, hand falling away from your clit to grip the sheets as he floods you with his cum.

“There we go, bunny.” He murmurs softly as he returns to himself, slowly pulling out of you. He sighs shakily, brushing some hair from your face. “You’re mine forever, darling. I’m never letting you stray from my side.” 

His tone alone assures you his words are a promise.

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 29/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language, age gap

Word Count: 8642

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💙

As the evening settled around you, the soft glow from the bedside lamp cast a warm light over the room. You and Jensen were curled up in bed, his arm wrapped around you as your head rested on his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat was comforting, and for a while, the two of you just lay there in contented silence.

But you could feel a slight tension in the way Jensen held you, as if something was on his mind. After a few minutes, he shifted slightly, and you looked up to meet his eyes. He hesitated for a moment, his gaze soft but thoughtful, before finally speaking.

“I’ve been thinking”, he began, his voice low and careful, as though he wasn’t sure how to bring up what was weighing on him. “About what Jared said earlier… and about the future”.

You didn’t say anything yet, just waited for him to continue, sensing that this was something important.

Jensen exhaled slowly, running a hand through your hair as if gathering the courage to ask what was on his mind. “I know things are complicated right now, and I don’t want to rush anything. But I’ve been thinking… Could you ever imagine… moving in with me? Dealing with the kids? I mean, I know it’s a lot to ask”.

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, you could feel his uncertainty, the way he was carefully treading around the topic. He glanced down at you, searching your eyes for any hint of how you were feeling. “I can imagine it might feel like too much”, he continued, his voice soft. “I mean… you’re still so young, and you have your whole life ahead of you. I just… I don’t want to put any pressure on you. But I have to ask”.

You felt your heart flutter at the vulnerability in his voice, the way he was so careful with his words, not wanting to overwhelm you. You could see the weight of the question in his eyes, the fear that maybe this was too much for you—too complicated.

But you also saw something else. You saw how much Jensen cared, how deeply he was considering what it would mean for the two of you to take this step. And despite the complexities, the uncertainties, you realized something important—you could see yourself doing this. With him.

Jensen shifted again, his hand brushing through your hair, his voice quiet and slightly hesitant as he continued, “I wouldn’t ask this so soon… I know it’s a big thing, and I don’t expect you to just jump into it. It’s nothing I want to do by tomorrow or even next week. It’s just…”.

He trailed off, his brow furrowing as he struggled to find the right words. You stayed silent, giving him the space to work through his thoughts.

“With my kids involved, it’s not just about me”, he finally said, his tone serious. “It’s about them, their lives. I have to think about what’s best for them, and I want things to be stable. As stable as they can be, given my lifestyle”. He paused for a moment, exhaling softly as his hand came to rest gently on your arm. “If… when I introduce you to them, I want it to be because I’m sure. Because it’s going to last”.

His words were filled with such a deep sense of responsibility, and you could see how heavily this weighed on him. The uncertainty he carried wasn’t just about the relationship between the two of you, but about the future he was building for his kids. He wanted them to have stability, security—and that included anyone who came into their lives, including you.

Jensen looked down at you, his eyes searching yours, almost as if he was waiting for you to tell him that it was too much. “I’ve been through enough with the divorce”, he continued, his voice soft but steady. “I don’t want to confuse them, or bring someone into their lives if I’m not completely sure it’s the right thing. I want them to feel safe… to know that if you’re going to be part of their world, it’s because I believe it’s going to work”.

You could feel the weight of what he was saying—how much his kids meant to him, how carefully he was navigating the future for them, and how much this conversation wasn’t just about you and him, but about building something meaningful that could truly last. He wasn’t asking for an answer right away, but it was clear that when he thought of the future, he was imagining you in it.

You bit your lip, your heart pounding as you searched for the right words. The weight of what Jensen had said, the vulnerability in his voice, made the moment feel all the more real. You knew this was a pivotal conversation—not just about logistics or plans, but about where you saw yourself in his life, in the lives of his kids. He was asking for reassurance, but he wasn’t pushing. It was like he was holding his breath, afraid to hope too much.

Finally, you exhaled softly, your voice gentle but steady. "Jensen… I don’t have a problem with your kids. In fact, they’re not just part of your life—they’re part of you. I’ve known that from the beginning. And if they lived with you full-time, or if they were just visiting every other week, it wouldn’t change how I feel about us".

You paused, watching as his eyes searched yours, hanging onto every word. You reached out, brushing your thumb lightly over the back of his hand as you continued, your voice thick with emotion.

"I know it’s complicated… and I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. But I’ve thought about this, Jensen. And I’m not scared of the idea of being part of your life, your whole life, kids and all". You hesitated, biting your lip again before speaking from the deepest part of your heart. "And as for Austin… I mean, I like it, but I don’t need to stay there forever. I’d move for you. If it meant building a life with you, I’d choose that over anything else".

His breath caught, and you could see the emotion building in his eyes. He looked at you like he was trying to absorb your words, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing.

You shifted slightly, sitting up more so you could face him fully. "Jensen, I’m not here just for the easy moments. I’m here because I see a future with you, because I want that future with you. Wherever that takes us, wherever we have to go—whether it’s Austin, or another city, or… making space for your kids. I’m ready for it".

He opened his mouth to speak, but for a moment, nothing came out. He just shook his head slightly, overwhelmed.

"You… you really mean that?", he finally asked, his voice rough with emotion.

You nodded, your voice breaking slightly as you replied, "I do. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it. I love you, Jensen. And I know that loving you means loving the life you’ve built—the good, the complicated, the messy. And I’m ready for all of it".

Jensen let out a breath, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing your skin. He looked at you like you were the most important thing in the world, like you were offering him something he never thought he could have.

"I don’t even know what to say", he whispered. "I’ve been so afraid that this—us—was too much to ask for. That I was asking you to carry too much, to take on my baggage… but hearing you say that…". He trailed off, emotion overwhelming him.

You leaned into his touch, your hand resting over his heart, feeling the steady thrum beneath your palm. "You’re not asking for too much", you whispered back. "We’ll figure it out together. And whatever happens with the kids, wherever we end up—I'm in this with you".

For a moment, there was only the sound of your breathing, the stillness of the room wrapping around the two of you. Then Jensen pulled you closer, his forehead resting against yours. His voice was barely a whisper when he spoke again, full of gratitude and love.

"I love you", he murmured. "More than I can even say".

You smiled softly. "I love you too. And I’m not going anywhere".

A few weeks later, the tension surrounding the divorce still lingered heavily between you and Jensen. Danneel hadn’t signed the papers, and her silence weighed on him, making everything feel uncertain. Jensen had tried to reach out, to discuss a way to move forward for the sake of the kids, but most of his calls and messages went unanswered. It left him in this frustrating limbo, unsure of what the holidays were going to look like.

This morning was no different. As you both stood groggily in the bathroom, brushing your teeth before the day ahead, the exhaustion of everything settled over him. It was early—way too early—but the upcoming convention meant you had to be up, even though neither of you were truly awake.

Jensen leaned on the counter, mumbling around his toothbrush, “I don’t know what to do about the kids”.

His eyes met yours in the mirror, reflecting the weariness and uncertainty that had been eating at him for weeks. You finished brushing your teeth, rinsing your mouth before setting your toothbrush down, trying to give him a moment to process his thoughts. He was torn, you could see it clearly—wanting to spend Christmas with you, but not wanting to lose precious time with his children.

“I want to be with you, I really do”, he said quietly, his voice raw, “but if I spend Christmas with you, I won’t be with the kids. And I can’t… I can’t imagine not seeing them on Christmas”.

You turned to face him, leaning against the counter beside him, feeling the weight of his words settle in. You knew how important this decision was for him.

“I get it, Jensen”, you said softly. “I understand that the kids come first, especially at Christmas. I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose between them and me. I’d never ask that of you”.

He shook his head, his frustration evident. “It’s not just that. It’s… it’s that I feel stuck. I’m trying to be a good dad, but this whole thing with Danneel, the divorce not being finalized—it’s like I’m in this constant limbo. And if I go to spend Christmas with them, it’s just going to be so awkward with her. But if I don’t… I’ll miss them. I hate this”.

He leaned back against the counter, rubbing a hand over his face, clearly overwhelmed. “And then there’s you”, he added, his voice softening. “I want to spend Christmas with you. I don’t want you to feel like you’re not important, because you are. But if I spend Christmas with you, I’d be missing out on time with the kids, and I just… I don’t know how to balance it”.

You moved closer, your hand gently resting against his cheek, your voice gentle. “Jensen, it’s okay. We can celebrate Christmas together whenever. I don’t need it to be on the exact day. Your kids need you, especially right now, and you should be with them. I’ll be okay”.

His eyes met yours, searching for reassurance, and you offered him a soft smile. “We can make our own Christmas, maybe a few days before or after. I’ll be fine, I promise”.

Jensen let out a breath he’d been holding, nodding slowly as if he was finally giving himself permission to feel less guilty. “You’re really okay with that?”, he asked, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable.

“I am”, you said with certainty. “I don’t want you to miss out on time with them. We’ll have our moment, I’m not worried about that. I want you to be with your kids if that’s what you need”.

Jensen sighed softly, the weight of everything clearly still heavy on his shoulders. After a moment, he shifted slightly, avoiding your eyes for a beat before glancing back at you. “You sure you wanna come today?”, he mumbled, his voice low and hesitant.

You knew what he was referring to—the convention. Danneel was going to be there too, and the tension of it all had been hanging in the air for days.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I want to be there for you”, you said softly, meeting his gaze. “I know it’s not going to be easy, but I’ll be okay”.

Jensen’s eyes flickered with uncertainty. He wanted you there—he always did—but the thought of having to navigate the awkwardness of Danneel’s presence weighed on him. He ran a hand through his hair, his brows furrowed. “I just don’t want things to be uncomfortable for you”, he admitted, his voice almost apologetic. “With Danneel there… it might get messy. I don’t know what to expect from her”.

You shrugged casually, a playful glint in your eyes as you reached up and gently pulled him down by the neck, bringing his face close to yours. "As long as you come home with me afterward and not her", you mumbled, your lips brushing against his, the teasing smile evident in your voice. Before he could respond, you kissed him softly, letting your touch melt some of the tension from the moment.

Jensen hesitated for a second, still weighed down by his thoughts, but the warmth of your kiss broke through. With a low sigh of relief, he placed his hands on your hips, his grip firm yet gentle, as if grounding himself in the moment with you. He deepened the kiss briefly before pulling away just enough to look into your eyes. Without a word, his hands slid under your thighs, and with a smooth motion, he lifted you effortlessly, placing you on the counter beside the sink.

You laughed softly, the sudden shift catching you off guard, but you couldn’t help but lean into him more. His eyes softened as he stood between your legs, his hands resting on your waist, thumbs brushing your sides in a way that was both comforting and intimate.

"Why do you always know exactly what to say to make everything feel a little easier?", he murmured, resting his forehead against yours, his voice quiet and filled with gratitude.

You smiled, your hands finding their way to the back of his neck again, fingers lightly playing with the short strands of his hair. "Because I know you", you whispered. "And I know no matter how complicated things get, you always come back to me. That’s what matters".

Jensen closed his eyes briefly, his brow furrowing slightly as if letting go of some of the stress he'd been holding onto. "You make it sound so simple", he whispered.

"It can be simple", you replied, your voice gentle but firm. "It’s just you and me, figuring things out. One step at a time. The rest… we’ll deal with when it comes".

He smiled at that, the tension around his eyes finally easing. "I don’t deserve you, you know that?".

You leaned forward, brushing your lips lightly against his again. "You keep saying that", you whispered against his mouth, "but I’m here, aren’t I?".

Jensen kissed you softly, his hands tightening on your waist as if he needed the closeness, needed the reminder that despite all the uncertainty with Danneel and the kids, this—the two of you—was solid. After a moment, he pulled back just slightly, his lips still hovering near yours as he murmured, "I don’t know what I’d do without you".

"You’ll never have to find out", you replied quietly, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw as you looked into his eyes.

For a few moments, you both stayed there, wrapped up in the warmth and intimacy of the moment, all thoughts of the convention and the complications with Danneel fading into the background. Jensen’s hands rested on your thighs now, his touch gentle but reassuring, and for the first time that morning, you saw the tension in his body fully release.

"We’ll get through today", you whispered, leaning your forehead against his. "No matter what happens, you’ll come home to me, and that’s what matters".

Jensen smiled, a real, genuine smile, and pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before stepping back slightly. "Yeah", he said, his voice steadier now. "You’re right".

As you slid off the counter, back onto your feet, he kept his hands on your waist for a moment longer, grounding himself in your presence. "Let’s get through this day together", he said softly. "Then we’ll figure out everything else".

As you both got ready for the last convention of the year, Jensen’s mind was running in a thousand different directions. It should’ve felt like a relief—knowing that after today, he’d have a break until New Year’s Eve, no filming, no appearances, just time to be with you—but instead, his thoughts were consumed with everything that still felt unresolved.

He kept glancing at you as you moved around the hotel room, getting ready with a quiet focus. He hadn’t told you about the houses yet—the one in Connecticut, which he loathed, and more importantly… the one near the river in Austin, which felt like a way better fit. It wasn’t just about finding a place for him and the kids; it was about building something that could include you, too. The idea of you sharing a home with him was something he hadn’t stopped thinking about. But he wasn’t ready to tell you, not until he had a clearer picture of what the future would look like. Not until the divorce was final.

Jensen hated Connecticut. The cold, the distance, the feeling of being disconnected from everything he loved—it wasn’t the life he wanted, but it was where his kids were. And he couldn’t imagine them constantly flying to see him, or him flying to them, especially with the unpredictable chaos that came with being a parent. But the thought of being stuck there, away from you, made his stomach turn. That’s why the idea of Austin, of a home closer to what felt like home, had been so appealing.

He rubbed his hands over his face, trying to shake the thoughts from his mind. He had to focus on today. Get through the convention first, and then maybe—maybe—he could finally sit down and figure out the next steps.

You turned to him, catching the distracted look on his face, and raised an eyebrow. “You good?”, you asked, walking over to where he stood by the window.

Jensen blinked and nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just thinking about how great it’ll be to have some time off after this. No conventions, no filming, just us”.

You smiled softly at that, clearly looking forward to it too. “Yeah, Austin’s going to be nice. And hey, we’ll have time to just relax. No rushing from one thing to another”.

“Exactly”, Jensen said, pulling you into his arms. He held you close, resting his chin on top of your head for a moment. “I can’t wait to get back to Austin with you”.

Little did you know, he wasn’t just thinking about your apartment. He’d been quietly looking for a place that could be a home for both of you, something more permanent than hotel rooms and quick getaways. He’d got an eye on a house near the river in Austin, one that felt like it could be the place. It was perfect—not just for him and the kids, but for you too, if you wanted to be part of that world with him.

But he couldn’t buy anything yet, not with the divorce still hanging over his. Danneel hadn’t signed the papers, and until she did, everything felt like it was in limbo. Still, the thought of starting fresh with you was what kept him going. He just hoped, when the time was right, that you’d want to be part of that picture.

You looked up at him, resting your hands on his chest. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”.

Jensen smiled down at you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Just thinking about how lucky I am”.

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “You keep saying that. Should I be worried?”.

“No”, he chuckled, shaking his head. “Just… grateful. For you, for us”.

You softened at his words, leaning into him. “Well, I’m pretty lucky too”.

Jensen kissed the top of your head, letting himself relax in the moment. Today, he just needed to get through this last convention, and then, he’d be heading back to Austin with you. Once the holidays were over, and once things with Danneel were settled, maybe he could finally tell you about the house, and what he hoped the future might look like.

The convention had the same motions as always—fans buzzing with excitement, the energy of the crowd palpable. You’d become familiar with the routine by now. You’d sit among the other fans, blending in, acting as though you were just another face in the crowd, while Jensen did his best to keep things professional, never letting on that you were anything more than a fan. It was easier that way, especially with Danneel in the picture, who still had no idea who you were or what you meant to Jensen.

You sat in the front row, your hands clasped tightly in your lap as you watched him from across the room. Jensen entered with Danneel by his side, their presence on stage together sending a ripple of excitement through the audience. You bit your lip, trying to focus on Jensen, to remind yourself that this was just another day, just another convention. But with Christmas only weeks away and the divorce still looming, everything felt heavier than usual.

Jensen looked calm, as he always did in front of the fans, his smile wide and charming, but you could tell by the way his eyes flickered toward you now and then that he was distracted. He was doing his best to keep the focus on the crowd, on the fans who had come to see him and Danneel, but his gaze kept drifting back to you, even if only for a second.

It was subtle—no one else would have noticed—but you saw it. The way his smile faltered ever so slightly when he caught your eye, the way his posture tensed for just a brief moment before he forced himself to relax. He was trying not to let it show, but you could see the internal struggle playing out on his face.

Meanwhile, Danneel remained unaware, smiling and engaging with the fans as she always did, unaware of the silent tension building between you and Jensen. She didn’t know what was going on behind the scenes, didn’t know who you were, and for now, you wanted to keep it that way.

You shifted in your seat, biting the inside of your cheek as you tried to keep your attention on the panel. It was harder than usual, knowing that Danneel’s presence was still such a significant part of Jensen’s life, even though they were in the process of untangling it. The fact that she hadn’t signed the papers yet made everything feel even more unresolved.

It wasn’t until a fan asked the question that the atmosphere shifted, the playful energy in the room becoming something a little more tense.

“Are you and Danneel planning on having another baby?”, the fan asked, their voice bright and casual. “Or are the plans for babies finally done?”.

Your heart skipped a beat. The innocent question hit you harder than you expected, but you did your best to keep your expression neutral. You’d learned to navigate these situations, to let them roll off your back, but this one felt like a punch. Especially when Danneel, always quick with a response, smiled coyly and teased, “Who knows? Maybe another little Jensen could be in the future”.

The audience laughed lightly, clearly enjoying the playful banter, but you felt a tight knot form in your chest. It wasn’t jealousy—at least, not exactly. It was the unresolved tension of everything hanging in the air. Jensen’s divorce wasn’t final, Danneel still hadn’t signed the papers, and here they were, on stage, joking about babies as if the reality of their situation was still the same as it had been years ago.

Your eyes darted toward Jensen, and you weren’t surprised to find that his gaze had immediately shot toward you, his expression tight and slightly strained. He was looking for reassurance, for any sign that you were okay, but you knew you couldn’t give him that in this moment. Not with everyone watching. So instead, you raised an eyebrow, keeping your expression as neutral as possible, silently signaling to him that you were fine. Even though you weren’t.

Jensen quickly turned back to the crowd, a slight chuckle escaping his lips as he tried to deflect the awkwardness of the situation. “No more babies for me”, he said, his tone light and teasing. “I think we’ve done enough damage already”. The crowd laughed, the tension in the room dissipating slightly as Jensen continued, “Parenthood’s a lot of work, you know? It’s like trying to wrestle a tornado while also keeping it alive”.

The audience erupted into more laughter, and Jensen seemed to relax, using humor as his shield. “I love my kids, but three’s a good number. Any more and I’d probably lose my mind”, he added, grinning at the fans.

For a split second, Jensen’s eyes flickered toward you again, a brief, almost imperceptible glance, but enough for Danneel to notice. Her smile faltered for just a moment as her eyes followed his line of sight, landing directly on you. You could feel the weight of her gaze as it lingered for a beat longer than necessary, she was connecting something, sensing a shift in Jensen’s focus.

Your heart raced, but you did your best to stay composed, keeping your face neutral as if you were just another fan in the crowd. You weren’t sure if Danneel had realized who you were or if she simply noticed Jensen’s attention drifting elsewhere, but either way, the shift was palpable.

Danneel’s smile returned, but it wasn’t quite as bright as before. She glanced back at Jensen, her expression still playful for the crowd but with a hint of something more.

Jensen, to his credit, recovered quickly, slipping back into his charming persona as he engaged with another fan’s question. His eyes didn’t wander toward you again, but you could feel the strain beneath the surface, the unspoken conversation that would undoubtedly happen once the panel was over.

The rest of the panel carried on, but the atmosphere felt different. Every interaction, every joke felt more careful, more measured. You kept your focus on Jensen, but your mind was racing. You could feel Danneel’s presence like a shadow in the room, her curiosity likely piqued by the way Jensen had looked at you.

As the panel finally came to an end, the tension still hung in the air like a thick fog. The fans were starting to disperse, and Jensen, despite his usual charm and professionalism, seemed distracted. Danneel, however, didn’t let up, her curiosity piqued by the subtle interactions she had noticed during the panel.

As they made their way toward the green room, Danneel’s teasing began, her voice light but laced with an undertone of something more. “So, who was that girl you kept looking at in the front row?”, she asked, her tone playful but sharp. “Your new girlfriend won’t appreciate you shopping for a new plaything among your little fan girls, Jensen”.

Jensen nearly stopped in his tracks, biting back a grin as he realized what Danneel had assumed. She thought you were just some random girl, someone who had caught his eye like an easy distraction, not realizing that you were, in fact, the very girlfriend she was referring to. The absurdity of the situation almost made him laugh, but he quickly schooled his expression, not wanting to give anything away too soon.

He glanced over at Danneel, raising an eyebrow. “A fan girl?”, he repeated, his tone casual as he slipped his hands into his pockets, trying to act as though the conversation wasn’t affecting him.

Danneel smirked, crossing her arms as they walked. “Don’t play coy with me, Jensen. I know you. The way you kept sneaking glances her way… I saw it. And, well”, she chuckled, “she’s easy on the eyes. But you should be careful. You wouldn’t want to complicate things, right?”.

Jensen fought the urge to roll his eyes, instead shaking his head slightly. “I’m not looking for a ‘plaything,’ Danneel”, he said, keeping his voice measured. “And trust me, things are already complicated enough thanks to you".

As they stepped into the green room, Danneel was about to continue her teasing, clearly enjoying the moment a little too much. But before she could get another word out, Jensen laid a firm arm around her shoulder, pulling her in close for a second, his grip tighter than usual. The shift in his demeanor was subtle but unmistakable. He wasn’t playing anymore.

“Speaking of fucking complicated”, he said, his voice dropping low enough that only she could hear, though there was an unmistakable edge to it. He squeezed her shoulder just enough to make his point, his eyes locked on hers. “How are those divorce papers doing?”.

Danneel’s teasing smile faltered as the seriousness of his tone sank in. She shifted uncomfortably under his grip, her bravado slipping as she met his gaze. “Jensen…”.

“I’m not joking, Danneel”, Jensen continued, his voice steady but with a quiet intensity. “Not anymore. I want them signed. This back-and-forth, this limbo we’re stuck in—it’s got to end now".

Danneel blinked, clearly caught off guard by the sudden shift in the conversation. Her usual playful retorts were nowhere to be found as she stood there, staring at Jensen. It was as though she hadn’t expected him to confront her so directly, especially not in the middle of a convention.

“I’ve been patient”, Jensen added, his arm falling away from her shoulder as he stepped back slightly, giving her space but making it clear he wasn’t backing down. “But I’m done waiting. I want the papers signed, Danneel".

Danneel bit her lip and shifted slightly uncomfortably, glancing away before finally speaking, her voice quieter than before. “I’m ready to sign them, Jensen”, she mumbled, a trace of hesitation lingering. “But… I wanted to talk about the details. You know, like the properties and custody arrangements for the kids. I thought maybe we could discuss it tonight—over dinner”.

Jensen’s eyes immediately rolled at the suggestion. Of course, she’d want to drag this out further, under the guise of hashing out details. Dinner sounded less like a business conversation and more like another attempt to stall the inevitable. The tension between them hung heavy in the air, and he knew Danneel was trying to exert some level of control over the situation, even if just for one last time.

“Dinner?”, he repeated, incredulity lacing his voice as he ran a hand through his hair. “Danneel, we don’t need to sit over a fancy meal and pretend this is something we can smooth over like old times. The details are already outlined. You’ve had the papers for weeks. You’ve seen the custody arrangements. You’ve seen the damn property split”.

Danneel shifted, crossing her arms, but she didn’t look him in the eyes. “Yeah, well… it’s not that simple, Jensen. There are still things I want to discuss—things we need to clarify for the kids’ sake”.

Jensen clenched his jaw, trying to keep his frustration at bay. “Danneel, I’ve been more than patient. We don’t need to hash this out over dinner. You’ve had plenty of time to ask questions or make changes to the papers. What’s stopping you now?”.

Danneel took a deep breath, her face hardening as her gaze finally locked with Jensen’s. She straightened her shoulders, raising her chin with a defiant glint in her eyes.

"One last dinner, or I won’t sign shit", she hissed, her voice sharp enough to cut through the tension in the room. Her words were laced with a challenge, pushing the boundaries once again. Jensen’s jaw clenched, frustration bubbling beneath the surface as he stared at her.

She wasn’t done. “Besides”, she continued, her voice dripping with bitterness, “the kids are waiting for you at the hotel. JJ’s been missing you, Jensen. They flew all the way here just to get a glimpse of their dad. So, how about you go to dinner with me? Head to my hotel afterward and spend some time with your damn kids, like a fucking dad should”.

Jensen’s fists tightened at his sides, his breath hitching as he tried to rein in his emotions. He hated how she twisted everything, using the kids as leverage, as if the only way to be a good father was to play along with her games. His relationship with his children had never been in question—he knew how much they loved him, how much he loved them—but the guilt she piled on, as though he wasn’t already stretched to his limits, weighed heavily.

His eyes narrowed slightly, his voice low but steady. “Don’t bring the kids into this, Danneel. You know damn well I want to see them. But I won’t play these games with you. This isn’t about dinner. It’s not about us. It’s about doing what’s right for them, and this stalling—it’s hurting them more than you realize”.

Danneel rolled her eyes, her arms still crossed as she leaned back slightly, as if daring him to push back. “I’m not stalling”, she snapped. “I’m making sure we get this right. Maybe you’ve moved on, but this is still my life too. One dinner, Jensen, that’s all I’m asking. And then maybe I’ll sign those papers”.

The room felt smaller now, the air thick with unresolved tension. Jensen could feel the anger bubbling beneath his skin, but he couldn’t let it take control. He needed to stay focused—for the kids, for his sanity, for the life he was trying to build with you.

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair again, trying to find the right words. “Fine”, he finally said, the word clipped as it left his mouth. “Dinner. But this is it, Danneel. After tonight, I want those papers signed, and I want this over”.

Danneel’s smirk returned, but it was small, more of a flicker of triumph in her eyes than anything else. She nodded, satisfied for now. “Good”, she said, her voice softening just slightly. “Pick me up at 7. And after dinner, you can spend time with the kids. They’ve been waiting for you”.

Jensen stared at her for a long moment before nodding stiffly. “I’ll be there”. His tone was cold, distant, and it made Danneel pause for a second, as if realizing how far things had spiraled between them.

Without another word, she turned and left the green room, leaving Jensen standing alone, the weight of the conversation still heavy in the air. He let out a long, frustrated breath, his hands resting on his hips as he tried to clear his head.

He thought about you—about how he couldn’t wait to get out of this mess and just be with you, where things made sense. But for now, he had to get through tonight. One last dinner, one last play at control from Danneel. And then, maybe, the papers would finally be signed, and this chapter of his life could close for good.

Jensen stood there for a moment, feeling the weight of the conversation settle over him. He didn’t want to make the same mistake as last time—keeping you in the dark and leaving you wondering where he was or why things had changed at the last minute. He’d promised to be better, more open with you, and right now, that meant being honest about the change in plans.

Without hesitation, he pulled out his phone and started typing a message to you:

Jensen: Hey, something came up with Danneel. She’s pushing for one last dinner to talk about the divorce details and the kids. I agreed because I need to get her to sign those papers. I’m sorry. I wanted us to have tonight together, but I’ll have to meet her for dinner first.

He paused, staring at the screen. He hated this. Hated that he was constantly having to juggle things between his past and his future with you. But he knew it was necessary for now. His fingers hovered over the keyboard before he added:

Jensen: I don’t want you to spend the night alone though. I´ll ask Jared and Misha to grab dinner with you instead. At least that way you won’t be stuck waiting around for me. I’ll join you after, I promise.

He hit send and ran a hand through his hair, exhaling as he stared at the message. It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was the best he could do given the circumstances.

The buzz of his phone broke his thoughts. It was you.

You: Thanks for letting me know. It’s okay. I get it. Do what you need to do with Danneel and the kids. I’ll have dinner with Jared and Misha—should be fun. You: Just… don’t let her push you around too much, okay?

Jensen smiled at the text, feeling the warmth of your words even though this situation was far from ideal. You always knew what to say to keep him grounded.

Jensen: I won’t. It’s just for the kids. After tonight, it’ll be done. Jensen: I’ll see you later, okay?

Another buzz.

You: Okay. Good luck. I’ll be here when you’re done.

Jensen let out a breath of relief, slipping his phone back into his pocket. You were so understanding, even when things like this kept coming up.

Dinner with Danneel was exactly what Jensen expected—tense, uncomfortable, and full of sharp remarks wrapped in forced smiles. They had settled into a quiet corner of the restaurant, away from prying eyes, but the air between them was far from private. It was a battlefield of past emotions and unresolved issues, most of which Danneel wasn’t willing to let go of just yet.

Between serious conversations about custody arrangements and splitting their assets, Danneel kept slipping in barbed comments, as if testing him, pushing his patience.

“You’re really going through with selling the house in Fairfield, then?”, she asked, taking a sip of her wine, her eyes scanning his face. “I thought maybe you’d want to keep it for the kids”.

Jensen sighed, trying to keep his frustration in check. “We’ve been over this, Danneel. It’s too big. The kids don’t need all that space… especially when they’re splitting time between us. Selling it is the right move”.

Danneel shrugged, leaning back in her chair, her tone laced with bitterness. “So, where are you planning on moving, then? You always hated the idea of going back to LA, so what’s the plan now that we’re done? Going to shack up with your new girlfriend somewhere quiet and cozy?”.

Her words were sharp, but Jensen didn’t take the bait. He simply placed his fork down and met her gaze with a steady look. “I’m not discussing my personal life with you, Danneel. That’s not what tonight is about. We’re here to talk about the kids and the logistics of moving forward”.

She let out a short, mocking laugh, shaking her head. “Right, because you’ve always been so great at separating business from personal”.

Jensen clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay calm. He didn’t want to argue with her, not tonight, not when they were so close to finalizing everything. But her constant jabs were getting harder to ignore.

“I haven’t decided where I’ll move yet”, Jensen said, his voice level, “but wherever it is, it’ll be somewhere the kids can feel at home. That’s my priority”.

Danneel rolled her eyes, clearly unsatisfied with his answer. “Just make sure it’s close enough so they don’t feel like they’re being shuffled back and forth between two completely different worlds, Jensen. They’re already going through enough as it is”.

Jensen took a deep breath, leaning forward slightly as he spoke. “I know that, Danneel. I’m not going to make it harder on them. I want them to feel settled, wherever they are”.

She studied him for a moment, her expression softening just a bit. “So, where is it? Where are you thinking of going?”.

Jensen hesitated, not wanting to reveal too much, especially about his plans to possibly settle back in Austin. He didn’t owe her that information, not anymore. “I’m looking into a few options. What matters is that the kids are comfortable and have a stable home life”.

Danneel leaned back again, swirling her wine in the glass as she stared at him. “You used to talk about wanting something simple, somewhere quiet. You never liked all the glitz and chaos of LA”.

Jensen sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair as he considered the complicated mess of his future plans. LA would have been a smart choice—his new show was filming there, and it would make things easier in terms of work. But his heart wasn’t in it, and the thought of being so far from the kids gnawed at him. He couldn’t picture himself raising them in the middle of LA’s chaos. Austin, on the other hand, had always felt more like home. It was where he’d love to go back to, but again, the kids came first.

He glanced at Danneel across the table, her expression still guarded as she waited for his answer. “It depends on where you’re planning to move too”, he mumbled, his voice low but firm. “I want the kids to be close".

Danneel snorted, swirling her wine glass before taking a sip. “Well, I’m definitely getting away from Fairfield”, she muttered, her voice dripping with disdain. “The housewives there are unbearable. They never liked me, always giving me dirty looks at the school drop-offs or in town. Bunch of stuck-up, judgmental whores”.

Jensen raised an eyebrow at that, biting back a comment. He could easily imagine why the women in Fairfield might not have taken to Danneel—she had a habit of acting superior, especially around women she viewed as competition. It wasn’t lost on him that Danneel had always felt threatened by other women, particularly anyone she thought was prettier or had more attention.

“Can’t imagine why they didn’t like you”, Jensen said dryly, his tone edged with sarcasm. “Maybe it’s the way you always acted like you were better than everyone else”.

Danneel’s eyes flashed with irritation, her jaw tightening as she met his gaze. “I didn’t act like I was better than them”, she snapped defensively. “They just couldn’t handle someone who wasn’t part of their little Stepford wives club. I didn’t fit in, and they hated it”.

Jensen shook his head slightly, trying to keep the conversation from spiraling into another argument. He didn’t want to waste energy on old grudges or her insecurities about other women. “Whatever”, he said.

Danneel rolled her eyes, clearly not interested in letting go of her complaints about Fairfield, but she didn’t push the issue further.

Just then, Danneel smirked over the rim of her wine glass, her eyes glinting with mischief as she leaned back in her chair. “You know”, she started, her voice taking on that teasing lilt that always set Jensen on edge, “maybe I’ll consider Austin again. I kind of miss Steve”.

The name alone made Jensen’s jaw clench, but he forced himself to keep his expression neutral, taking a slow breath to stop himself from saying something he’d regret. The time when he felt anything toward her other than frustration and disgust was long gone. Any remnants of warmth or affection had been eroded away by years of deception, most of all when it came to Steve.

He stared at her, his eyes narrowing slightly as he fought to keep his tone steady. “Is that supposed to bother me, Danneel?”, he asked, his voice cool but laced with exhaustion. “Because if you’re trying to get a rise out of me by bringing him up, it’s not going to work”.

Danneel chuckled, shaking her head. “Oh, come on, Jensen. Don’t pretend you’re above it. I know it bothers you”. She tilted her head, her smirk widening. “It always did”.

It used to, Jensen admitted to himself. Back when he’d discovered the truth about her on-again, off-again thing with Steve, back when they’d still been trying to hold on to the crumbling remnants of their marriage, it had gutted him. Knowing she’d been with someone he once called a friend, while still sharing a life with him, had nearly destroyed him. But now? Now, it didn’t hurt. It just added to the bitterness of everything they’d built falling apart.

He pushed his plate aside, looking her square in the eyes. “The only thing that bothers me, Danneel, is how much you think you can still manipulate people to get under their skin”. His voice was low, controlled, but there was an undeniable edge of steel beneath his words. “But Steve? He doesn’t matter to me. Not anymore. You don’t get to hold that over my head. Not anymore”.

Her smirk faltered for just a second, a flicker of something—surprise, maybe—that crossed her face before she quickly masked it with her usual bravado. “Whatever you say, Jensen”, she muttered, waving her hand dismissively, but the bite in her tone had softened.

Jensen leaned back in his chair, adopting a nonchalant expression as he considered Danneel's suggestion about Austin. On the surface, he played it cool, but deep down, the idea of her moving back to Texas stirred something inside him. If they were both in Austin, it would simplify things, especially when it came to co-parenting and staying close to the kids. But he couldn’t show that. The last thing he wanted was to give Danneel the sense that she held any more kind of power over him. If she knew how much this could work in his favor, she’d play him, twist it to her advantage.

“I mean, Austin could work for me too”, he said casually, shrugging as if it wasn’t a big deal. His voice remained steady, deliberately unbothered.

Danneel’s eyes flickered with interest as she studied him. Jensen could practically see the gears turning in her head, but he kept his expression neutral, not giving her an inch more than necessary. He could already tell she was weighing her options, figuring out how best to position herself. If she thought for even a second that moving back to Austin was something he really wanted, she’d find a way to turn it into something that benefited her more than the kids.

“Yeah, Austin has its perks”, Danneel said, swirling her wine with a little smirk. “But I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about Dallas too. Bigger city, more opportunities”.

Jensen suppressed an eye roll. Dallas would be fine too—at least it was close.

“I’m sure Dallas has plenty of good options for you”, Jensen replied smoothly, his tone indifferent. “As long as it’s not on the other side of the country, it works. The important thing is that the kids feel settled and have both of us close by”.

Danneel took another sip of her wine, narrowing her eyes slightly, as if trying to figure out where Jensen really stood on the matter. She could sense that he was playing it cool, but she couldn’t quite pin him down, and that was exactly what Jensen wanted.

“So, you wouldn’t mind us both being back in Austin?”, Danneel asked, her tone laced with curiosity, perhaps even skepticism.

Jensen shrugged again, taking a sip of his water before answering. “Austin’s big enough for both of us, Danneel. It’s not like we’ll be running into each other every day. And like I said, it’s about the kids. It’s the most practical option”.

“Well, we’ll see”, Danneel said, her voice softening a little as she finally let go of her playful teasing. “Wherever I end up, I’ll make sure it works for the kids. I want them to feel settled too”.

Jensen nodded, relieved that, for once, they seemed to be on the same page about something. “Good. That’s all I’m asking for”.

They sat in silence for a moment, the tension between them easing slightly as they both seemed to accept the reality of the situation. The bickering, the games—it all needed to end. For the kids. For themselves. The sooner the papers were signed and these decisions were made, the sooner they could both move on.

But as the dinner wound down and they both prepared to leave, Jensen couldn’t shake the lingering thought that Danneel wasn’t done with her power plays just yet. He knew her too well. She’d find another way to push his buttons before all was said and done.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

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