#I really loved the dialogue between the two dads

[nezukoo-channn]

— sinta ko (Zayne x F! Reader)

Tags: Non-MC F!Reader x Zayne, Reader isn’t MC, Reader is addressed w female pronouns (she/her), Spanish colonial AU! Not historically accurate , romance, pinning, domestic moments, possibly OOC Zayne and Caleb , there are translations (not exactly word by word but I translated it based on what's the most accurate thought behind it, it's italicized beside or after the dialogue) , fluff, so much pinning and longing, teasing and banter, different social classes, they haven't seen each other in years let them fall in love again, childhood friends to people who havent seen each other in years to lovers, childhood friends to lovers, established relationship at the end, courtship, theyre falling in love awwwww, zayne sings for youuuu and you sing back and and *sniffles*

TW: slight blood and injuries (in one scene), cussing (just once), and discrimination between social classes

A/N: part 2 of giliw ko! Thank you so much for waiting for part 2 (i know that i said ill post it soon but i didnt expect soon will be THIS long, had to settle some personal things in my life, deal with grief and stuff) but i hope youll like part 2 and that it wont disappoint you guys thank you so much for supporting giliw ko and sinta ko, i hope to be more comfortable in writing and publishing more fics one day.

Taglist: @sapphic-daze, @deusfoundry, @roseapov, @knorreine

Divider: @saradika-graphics

You don't remember the last time you saw Zayne.

Well, you could remember seeing him, but you don't remember when exactly was the last time you saw him. Was it months? Years? Decades?

Everyday felt ordinary. You wake up before dawn to tend to your mother and her weakening health. You and your father helped her up, allowing her to sit down to watch the sunrise.  

You prepared breakfast next, making sure your parents had something to eat before you left for work today,  which was selling products you and your father grew in your own garden at the back of the house at the marketplace. You dusted up your skirts, tied your hair up and grabbed the basket before saying goodbye to your parents and walking out of the door.  

You headed up to your usual area, amongst the other women, young and old , selling the same produce as you. You raised your voice,  loud and clear to call out to potential customers. People passed your way, some dropping by to purchase a vegetable or two , others tried to bargain with you about prices established, and the rest passed along. You didn't mind. Customers were customers; they were yours sometimes, and other times, they weren't. 

During the midday, You found a spot for yourself to have lunch before returning back to work. You did the same thing , trying to get your stock sold out and yet, like every other day, it wasn't. You sigh, glancing at the last few bits of onions and garlic.

As the day ends, you return home, clutching your basket close. When you open the door, your mother greets you. She was a slim woman, her bones seemed to poke through her thin skin and dull eyes. You set the basket aside and hugged her.

“Magandang gabi, ma.” You greeted, “Kumusta po tayo?”  Goodevening, mom. How are you?

Your mother, despite her illness , gave a sweet smile.  “Maayos naman, ija. Sabi ko sa iyo na wag na magtrabaho. Kaya pa man namin ng ama mo.” I am well, my child but didn't I tell you to stop working? Your father and I can still do it.

She gently chimed. You smiled, shaking your head as you placed a hand on her shoulder. 

“Nay,” You say softly, “May sakit ka po, diba? Hayaan mo na kami ni tatay mag-alaga sa iyo…” Mom, you're sick, remember? Let dad and I take care of you...

Your mother sighs. “Parehas talaga kayo ng tatay mo, no?” She laughs before shaking her head, “Kain na tayo? Hinihintay ka na ng tatay mo…”  You're really like your father, no? Oh come on now, let's eat dinner. I'm sure your father has been waiting for you.

You held your mother's hand, heading to the small dining room to eat together as a family.

Dinner was quiet, say for the occasional coughs from your mother and the mumbles of your father as he tries to make her drink water. And just like that, dinner was complete and then fell into a comfortable silence as you prepared to sleep. 

It was a life, yes, but a mundane everyday one.

A life you memorized and lived through autopilot countless times.

With the season getting colder, your mother's illness worsens to the point of her being unable to stand or leave the bed.

That gave you a reason to work even harder.

You found a bunch of other jobs — laundry maid, cooking maid, babysitting children of the elite, etc. Just to earn enough money to help your mother find a doctor or anyone willing to heal her.

“May kilala ka bang doktor, Señora?” Do you know a doctor, madame? You asked your mistress. She was a newer one to town, having married some impressionable bachelor.

She scoffs, “At bakit ka ba nagtatanong? Hindi naman parte ng trabaho mo magkasakit.” And why are you asking? It isn't part of your job to get sick.

You grit your teeth. There were really people like them, no? Just because they had more privilege or paler skin meant that they could look down upon others. You shook your head, “Para po sa ina ko, señora.” Its for my mother, madame. You reasoned. 

“Ano ba ang pakialam ko sa ina mo? ”And why should I care about your mother? She scoffs. 

You nearly dropped whatever you were holding, planning to aim at her, but that said, if she gets hurt, you'd be imprisoned and it will be more difficult for your family. You remained quiet, finishing up instead before leaving for the day. 

As you walk the path back home, a familiar silhouette stands beside you. You looked to your side and raised your hand to defend yourself, but it was caught between theirs. You glance up, knowing that cheeky smile wherever You go. 

It was Caleb.

“Gago ka!” Fuck! You say in shock, your hand fishing it's way out of his hold your hit his shoulder playfully. “Ikaw ha! Bakit mo iyan ginawa?” What was that for? 

He laughs. “At bakit ka naman galit? Di lang tayo nagkita ng ilang buwan at tapos, magpapa-sungti ka?" And why are you angry? We haven't seen each other for a few months and now you're acting all mean?

He teases, ruffling your hair. You hit him again playfully. 

“At bakit ka dito?” Why are you here? You asked. 

“Bakit? Bawal ba?” Why? Am I not allowed here? He retorts.

You sighed. 

“Hindi naman…” Not really You answered, dusting your skirt. “Uuwi na ako kinana Nanay At Tatay. Malubha ang sakit ni Nanay… Naghahanap ako ng doktor, O baka naman mangagagmot— kahit sino na lang.” I'm heading back home. Mom isn't feeling well and I'm trying to find a doctor, or maybe a healer--or just anyone who can help, really. You confined to him as you walked back home together.

Caleb wasn't present around the barrio nowadays, having gone to Manila to serve for the Guardia Civil , the Spanish police that her empire placed over her constituents to keep them in place.

“Alam mo, may kilala akong doktor.”I know a doctor. Caleb says , moments before reaching home. You glanced at his direction, eyes brimming with possible hope that it'll be a good doctor,  one that can save your mother's health and wouldn't dismiss her like others. 

“Saan?”Where? You ask immediately,  “Sino?” Who?

He smiles, getting a piece of paper inside his trousers and hands it to you , pressing his hands against yours. You stared in confusion,  tilting your head as you mumbled quickly before stepping inside. 

Dinner was the usual, but with the added bonus of Caleb being there and entertaining your parents with his various experiences .  You nod along, listening to him talk on and on as you can't help but wonder what a life beyond the comforts of a province would be like. What Maynila was truly like for yourself. 

As the night comes to an end, you escorted Caleb out of the house, a complete opposite from what a woman would do. He pouts playfully, trying to object to your behavior but you laugh along, dragging him out of the house as he says a goodbye to your parents.

And life continued on. 

It took a while to convince your mother that she should see a doctor, and not either a manggagamot or an albularyo. You practically dragged her to the place, making sure to hold her hand tightly so that she wouldn't get lost.

You paused, stopping at the gates of the familiar building.

It was Zayne’s old home. The same old home you met him with. The same old home where your mother and father and grandparents all worked. The same old home that held so many memories— it feels too good to be true to stand face to face with it.

But here you are. Standing in front of the familiar gates.

Getting inside was fairly simple, but the lines and amount of people were so many you probably wondered if the thing Caleb mentioned has any semblance of truth at all. You made sure your mother was seated and weaved yourself through the small crowd of people like the sea that washes upon the shore of everyday life— you memorized this place, but felt alien towards it. You walked over to the woman sitting down with piles of papers, perhaps that's the secretary of the Doctor. She glances up and smiles,

“Bago ka ba dito?” Are you new here? She asks. You nod. She gets a piece of paper and a pen and begins asking for information about you.

You immediately shake your head,

“Parang hindi tayo nagkakaintindihan. Hindi po ako yung may sakit, yung ina ko po.” I think there's a misunderstanding. Im not the one who's ill, but my mother.

You explained. She laughs and corrects herself before proceeding with the same thing all over again, this time with your mother's information instead of yours.

Waiting took even longer. There were plenty of people, young and old, men and women, the rich and the poor waiting patiently for their names to be called by the secretary. It was something new for you. You haven't been to the doctor's before, having trusted and used local medicines and believed to rid you of your illnesses as a child and teenager, the same thing your parents had used to because it was cheaper than a doctor and was more known in the barrio.

You glanced around. The familiar wooden walls had stood tall, photos of the family lined their walls as generations of men and women watched people come in and out of their home, hoping for a better solution to their ailments. Time ticks slowly as the sun rises higher into the sky And begins its descent . Your eyes were starting to get heavy, your mother leaning against you for a moment's rest.

Hearing your mother's name get called was like a bell that breaks the silence of night. You nudge her awake. “Nay,” Mom, You say softly, trying to wake her, “Tayo na. Tinawag na tayo.” Let's go. Your name was being called.

She mutters something in response before you help her up and lead her towards the room.

You had been inside this room before. The old smell of books and wood was replaced with ammonia and sterile supplies. You take a step, your mother following behind you as you face the presumed doctor.

Zayne.

He glanced down for a moment, reviewing the patient information given to him by the secretary beforehand. You couldn't help but stare at realizing you knew each other before. He was still handsome, yes, with soft and cold eyes, his hair short and kept nicely.

“Nay, si Zayne po ito.” Mom, its me, Zayne.

He says to your mother, his voice soft and modulated. Your mother's eyes lit up. “Ijo? Ikaw ba ‘yan , ijo ko?” My dear? Is that you, my dear?

He nods. “Opo, ang ijo inaalagaan mo noong una po," Yes, I'm the boy you took care of before.

He grabs his stethoscope, “At ngayon po, Nay, ako naman po ang maaalaga sa iyo.” And now, mom, I'll be the one who'll be taking care of you.

You watched as Zayne proceeded with his routine, A new sight from the boy you once knew. His hands were gentle, his voice firm and clear as he ran through several tests and asked your mother questions related to her health.

Minutes passed by as Zayne explained what was happening to you and your mother. He was direct, telling her she was ill but didn't crush the hopes of her making a recovery. He gets a piece of paper, scribbling down a few words before handing them to you. He gives a few more reminders, making sure your mother can take her medicines, not overwork herself , make sure she's rested well, and to return next week to get an update on her health.

You smiled, saying your thanks to Zayne before looking away, your eyes darting around as you tapped your feet. Zayne and your mother continued to talk, catching up with the years that passed.

“Ang laki laki mo na , ijo.” You're so big now, my dear. Your mother coos, squishing his cheek with her wrinkled fingers, “Naalala ko noong una—” I remember when —

Zayne chuckled nervously , looking away as he places her hand far from his cheeks. “Alam ko po.” I know, He says softly, “Hindi mo na kailangan sabihin.” You don't need to say.

Your mother scoffs playfully, making you groan from annoyance. The last thing you wanted to hear is an embarrassing story from your childhood or Zayne’s. She laughs, recalling how you'd always play together or how when Zayne was a little baby, he would always follow her or his own mother around like a little puppy. You laugh, imagining him just as your mother described in her story. Zayne stands there, covering his reddening face with his white coat, his eyes glancing elsewhere. He silently hopes that this will all end soon.

“Nay,” Mom, You say, placing a hand on her shoulder. You glance at Zayne, seemingly saying that you had this under your control. “Sa susunod na naman tayo mag-usap kay Doktor Zayne, Nay. Baka may gagawin pa siya.” We can talk to Doctor Zayne next time. Maybe he still has things to do.

“Bibisita ka ba sa amin ba, ijo?” Will you visit us , dear? She asks Zayne with hopeful eyes.

“Hindi pa ko maka-siguro po, Nay.” I'm not so sure, Mom. He answers, “Pero kung may oras ako, bibisita ako. Sa parehas lugar kung saan kayo nakatira noong una po?” But if I have the time, I'll visit. Its in the same place as before, no?

Your mother nods. “Aba, naalala mo pa, ijo? Kung hindi kayo sa bahay, diyan kayo palagi nina Caleb at Y/N. Palagi kayo naglalaro noong una. Naalala ko-” Ah, so you do remember, dear? If you weren't at home, you would always be at ours with Caleb and Y/N. You three always played together and I remember—

“At naalala ko na nag-aalala na si Tatay sa bahay.” And I remember that Dad is worried at home. You chimed in softly, grabbing her hand as you thanked Zayne once more and left the office. Zayne smiles to himself, waving goodbye as the door closes and leaves him alone with his thoughts.

You were always at Zayne’s more often as your mother recovers from her illness.

It was a slow and gradual process, yes, but you couldn't help but be proud, seeing your mother slowly feel better and get back on her feet. True to his words, Zayne visits more often. He brings his medical equipment in a bag and walks up to your door and like clockwork, you’d open the door to greet him hello before bringing him to your mother.

Your mother’s eyes always lit up when she hears his footsteps and his familiar voice. She loved him like he was her child, having raised him all those years ago.

“May kasintahan ka na ba, ijo?” Do you have a partner, dear? She asked one time, catching him off-guard. He looked away for a moment, his face turning red as he shook his head.

“May babae bang nagpapatibok ng puso mo?” Is there a woman who makes your heart race? She asked next.

His ears turned red as he continued to look away.

“Parang wala pa po, Nay. Hindi ko rin alam kung pareho ang nararamdaman niya sa akin…” There seems to be no one yet, Mom.I'm not sure if the person feels the same.

You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. This was Doctor Zayne, and you were sure that so many women had already swooned over his feet and had tried to melt away at his cold and aloof expression, but you digressed.

“Hay nako, Zayne. Ikaw pa? Walang kasintahan? At akala ko sa Maynila o sa Europa ka pa makakahanap ng babae na magmamahal sa iyo?” Really, Zayne? You? Without a partner? And I thought you would find someone from Manila or Europe who will love you. You teased, nudging his side, “O bake plano mo maging isang matandang binata?" Or do you plan on being an umarried bachelor?

Zayne laughs, turning his attention towards you.

“Hindi naman.”Not really, He says, “May taong nagpapatibok ng puso ko pero…” There is someone who makes my heart race however...

“Pero?” However?

“Pabayaan mo na.” Nevermind. He waves his hand dismissively. You pouted at his words, playfully hitting his shoulder, and sticking your tongue out in his direction. Zayne sighs, seeing your petulant expression.

“Tumahimik ka nga?” Can you keep quiet? He says, “Nagtatrabaho ako.” I'm working.

Your heart skipped a small beat. Was it the way he talked? The way his hands handled taking care of your mother? Or was it because it was Zayne? Zayne, the childhood friend you grew up with throughout all those years, whose face and expression never changed, his voice still modulated and poised just like how you’d always remember it. You shake your head. Now that kind of nonsense is something you don’t agree on, especially about you.

His checkup continues as he does an assessment of your mother’s current condition. Every answer she gave, he had written down and documented properly. Before he left, he presented them with fruits in a basket and money he had stuffed in his pockets.

“Alam ko na hindi ito magrabo pero sana po makatuklong diin sa iyo ito.”I know this isn't extravagant but I hope it will help. He offers.

“Ang sobra naman mo, Zayne. Hindi mo naman kailangan ito gawin .” Oh Zayne, you're too much. You don't need to do this. You say, your face red and eyes widen from the action he had done. He presses the basket of fruits closer to you.

“Tanggapin mo na.” Accept it. He insists. After another back and forth between you both, you resigned your fate and nodded in thanks, taking the basket into your arms. Zayne flashes a subtle smile before packing his materials and leaving out of the door.

This continues on for weeks more, even spanning months–close to a year even as your mother’s recovery was a slow and gradual process. She can move around more often and for longer without the need to catch her breath. She can clean up around the house, much to your father’s insistence of helping.

Whenever you visited Zayne in his clinic with your mother, you would bring a fresh basket of fruits and vegetables that you sell as a thank you to him. He would gladly accept it, claiming that you and your mother were planning to stuff him with food. You both laugh and shake your heads at his words.

When Zayne visits the marketplace to find goods, he’d look around, seeing the same things and products sold. The only difference was the person selling. He would look around, trying to spot you from amongst the crowd of voices. He would buy the vegetables he needed before paying and leaving to go to a different stall. There were times that you two bantered over prices of your products, as Zayne would explain the concepts of business to you. In response, you would shake your head and grumble about how he doesn’t really know a thing about how to really sell stuff to individuals.

He followed every rule of the book and conduct of society, and yet, here you are, holding a basket of fresh produce from the garden your family has, your face kissed by the sun with your hair tied up with your smile gracing your lips.

The same smile that had slowly melted through his exteriors once more and will continue to do so until the very end perhaps. The same smile that had caused his heart to skip a beat when he saw her again. The smile that got him going through medical school, the only thing he imagined him to greet her. Sometimes, he wonders if he should’ve stayed behind as a child to see her smile even more, but he didn’t regret leaving for Manila to study medicine, he didn’t regret going to Europe to learn even more. At least, not completely.

The only thing he ever regretted about leaving home was that he didn’t bring her and her smile with him.

Now that he is back, he only hopes to see it even more.

You missed him. That wasn’t a lie.

Of course you did, he was still your childhood friend and companion until he left to study. You had spent your whole teenage years wondering when he’ll be back and whether things will be the same when he returns–would he even remember who you were?

But seeing his face, his bright eyes that seemed to shift colors when the sunlight hit in different angles, his large and strong hands holding onto the basket of produce he bought from you, you realized that he hasn’t forgotten you, not one single bit at all.

Your mother noticed the way your face turned red at the mention of Zayne's name, your father noticed the small smile that graced your lips when you tried to hide your blushing face beneath your hand. Caleb had teased you both relentlessly about it, nudging Zayne by the shoulder everytime you three were together once more. It was as if you were kids once again, just much older than the ages you were before. And instead of playing together, you did errands together, with them being your most frequent customers. Your other friends had teased you as well, nudging and making noises you’d glare at them for.

And the worst of all, you noticed the way Zayne acted around you.

It was a subtle change, but one you noticed and took attention too. He was at your home more often, even staying for dinner with your parents. He’d laugh at old stories your father recalls about you that you wished he’d quiet about. He looked at you more often, his head resting against his chin as he watched you go on and on about today, or yesterday, or any other day. And once dinner was done and everything slowed down, he seemed hesitant to leave but always kissed your hand and said his goodbye. You kept a straight-face most of the time, but there was no denying of the red gracing your cheeks.

There was a time he was talking to your parents. You were in the kitchen, washing the dishes as their hushed voices talked. There was a gut feeling inside your chest, telling you to listen in. Holding a wet plate in your hand, you pressed your ear closer to the wall, curious on what he’s about to say next.

“Magtatanong ako kung bibigayan niyo ba ako ng pahintulot para ligawin si Y/N.” I want to ask your permission to court Y/N. Zayne says, his voice muffled by the barrier se separating the kitchen and living room.

There was a brief silence before he continued, “Hindi ako makakasabi na ako ay isang perpektong tao pero pinapangako ko na mamahalin ko siya ng buong puso.” I can't say that I'm perfect, but I promise to love her with my whole heart.

“Ang anak ba namin ang dahilan bakit tumitibok ang puso mo, ijo?” Is our child the reason why your heart races, dear? Your mother asks.

Another brief silence passes before he nods. “Opo, pero maliban po sa ganyan. Siya ang dahilan na bakit ako nabubuhay, kung bakit ako gumigising sa umaga at natutulog sa gabi. Sa totoo, parang hindi ko na kayang itago ang aking nararamdaman sa kanya. Kung pwede po sa inyo, gusto ko siya ligawin.” Yes, but she's more than that. She's the reason why I'm alive, why I wake up in the morning and go to sleep at night. In honesty, I don't think I can hide my feelings for her any longer, so please, give me the permission to court her.

Your heart freezes in your chest, skipping a beat. Your hand slips, causing the plate to fall down with a loud crash. You quickly knelt over, gathering the larger pieces, and accidentally drawing blood. Your eyes widened in a panic as you scrambled up and got cleaning supplies to fix the mess your nosiness made.

As you clean up, a silhouette looms over you, his hand touching your shoulder as he peers beyond and sees your bloody hand and broken shards.

“Ano ba nangyari rito?” What happened here? Zayne’s voice breaks the silence in the room. “Patingin nga.” Let me see.

You let out your bloody hand to him. He glances around it, careful and precise in his touch to ensure that there will be no further injuries. He helps you sit down, finding clean cloths and water.

“Wag kang gagalaw.” Don't move. He instructs. You nodded and tried your best to stay still. He begins to clean the wound with water and soap before leaving for a moment to get his first aid kit that he brought everywhere with him, especially during visiting patients. He cleans your hands with antiseptic, his hands firm and kind. Perhaps this was why he was a well-sought out doctor. The way he treated and helped nursed his patients back to health, his firm and unwavering dedication didn’t stem from ethics alone, but was grounded in a genuine love and care for the people he spends his whole life serving and taking care of.

You wince, trying to take your hand away but he holds on.

“Diba sinabi ko wag kang gagalaw?" Didn't I tell you not to move? He repeats himself. You nodded once more, murmuring an apology to him. He pauses for a moment before continuing.

In the silence of the kitchen table, your mind raced.

Ligaw. Courtship.

Zayne wanted to court you, he was asking your parents permission for him to court you. Honestly, if tradition never mattered, you would step out from where you’re hiding and give him the permission yourself, but for now, you kept quiet and listened on. You wondered if he knew you were swooping, or was he keeping that information to himself?

What surprised you more was his reasoning behind the reason why he wanted to do it.

You were the reason why he survived Manila, why he survived Europe and other parts of Asia he traveled to study.

You were the reason why he continued on with medicine.

You were the reason why he returned back to the province he was born and raised in.

In the coldest hours of morning, before the sun rises over the horizon and the small town bounces with life, you were the comfort he was looking for. That warm and never ceasing comfort he has been searching and longing for his whole life.

You were all of these things and more, and Zayne had kept that inside his chest for so long that he can feel his heart explode if it was kept in for longer.

“Ano bang nangyari?” What happened even?He asks, wrapping your hand in gauze.

“Nalaglag ko ang plato hinahawakan ko.” I dropped my plate. You admitted.

He hums, nodding his head at your answer. He made sure it was secure before letting go and reminding you to be more careful with the things you hold and your surroundings. His voice silences as the quiet sounds of your parents’ footsteps get farther and farther away as they rested for the night.

You said your goodbyes, watching him leave the house and the door closes behind him. Your hand lingers for longer against the wood, as if hoping Zayne would show up and remind you one more time to take care of yourself before going, but that wouldn’t be happening tonight.

The next time you saw Zayne was months later.

You were so busy taking care of your parents, and he was away for a while. You tried to ask the people who worked at his clinic, or Caleb, or your own parents about where he is and neither had a proper answer to your question.

You were worried,to say the least. Had he run away from his own feelings? Had he run away from you? No, that wouldn’t make sense for Zayne to do. You tried to think of other possible reasons to console your pacing mind. Perhaps he went to Manila to work, or perhaps visited his parents, maybe had other patients beyond their small town.

It was the middle of the night when you found yourself awake once more, your mind lingers on with the possible reasons why he hasn’t shown up, and about what you had overheard from the talk with your parents months ago. The windows were closed, but allowed some air inside to keep you cool and comfortable. You tossed and turned in bed when you heard a faint sound of a guitar being strummed.

You paused, glancing at the window. Another strum of the guitar and a cough. Slowly, you got up from the bed and approached the window, your hands lingering around, thinking about whether to push it open or keep it close.

That's when you heard singing.

That's when you heard Zayne singing.

His voice was crisp and clear, emotions pouring out of his mouth as he sang to the sound of a guitar. There were some snickers here and there, perhaps from his friends but nonetheless, he continued on. You smiled to yourself, allowing his voice to soothe your own troubles and worries. It goes on for several more minutes, but the idea was the same: please open your window and let me catch a glimpse of your face.

As the last song finishes up, you open the windows to your room and look down, your hands covering your blushing face.

Zayne was there, his hands outstretched with a smile on his face. When he sees your face,he lowers his hands and looks up. There was a hint of red plastered on his face too, making you crack a smile. His friends were there as well, supporting him in his endeavors to woo you over. Caleb nudges Zayne before saying something you didn’t hear. You went outside of your room, surprised to see your parents awake too.

“Oh? Papasukin mo ba sila?”Oh? Will you let him in then? Was all the confirmation you needed from your parents before opening the door to them. Zayne sighs in relief, he has passed the first test. He greeted your parents and you as they settled down for a while. You sat beside your parents, watching them prepare the next songs.

As Zayne sings throughout the night, he compliments various things about you. How you smiled, carrying yourself with grace , how your eyes shone under the sun and your hair forming a halo around you like an angel. How you treated others with love, how hard you worked for your family, how you loved so tenderly and freely that it felt like a crime if he were to let go of such a chance of loving you.

He continues to sing alongside the guitar being played, the words seemingly fly out of his mouth as he says sweet everythings to you. You smile throughout, unable to hide it any further as you lean in forward, eager to listen to him sing.

In a response to his efforts, you sing back to him. You came up with a response to his efforts, and mentioned the things you liked about him. His handsome face, his steady and strong hands, his dedication to his work, the way he cared about others around him and prioritized their safety first and foremost. You sing about accepting his love, comparing it to the home you lived in; stable and worth returning to time and time again.

His face turns to a brighter shade of red as you continue on. He tried to bury his face, but his smile was so big that his hands couldn’t seem to hide it. But just like you , he listened to every word said about him.

You sang a duet together, your voices mixing with the guitar’s melody. Singing a duet together means that you had accepted his effort into wooing you over.

In honesty, you have accepted it for a long time already. You know that he loved you, in any way a man like he could. He loved you in his reminders, he loved you in his touch and longing stares, and most of all, he loved you since and had only taken the leap of faith to sing his feelings about you and you were there to catch him.

You sang a few more songs together before he finally wraps it up with a goodbye song. He thanked your parents one more time before he and his friends left, closing the door behind them. The silence of memory and song fills the living room but you were shifting around, glancing at the door. You bounced your leg, tapping your fingers against your bouncing knee.

“Pupuntahan mo siya?” Will you go to him? Your mother asked, as if she was able to read your mind. She knew you weren't the most traditional following girl especially when it was getting in the way of what you truly wanted. You glanced up before nodding.

“Puntahan mo na, ija. Sino ba ako para pigilan ka?” Go to him, my dear. Who am I to stop you?

You hugged your mother before rushing out the door, then heading back inside to get a shawl and change your slippers. As much as your mother allowed you to be more independent as you got older, cleanliness was a rule you followed.

You rushed outside, the cold wind blowing through your thin shawl and clothes. The full moon brightens up the way before you as the lamps slowly get dimmer and farther away.

“Zayne!” You yelled out, causing him to stop in his tracks and run back to you. He sets the lamp down on the ground and cups your cheek, inspecting to make sure you weren’t hurt.

“Ano po iyon, magandang binibini?” What's the matter, Miss beautiful? He asks, “Na-istrobo ko ba kayo? Pasensya na po, Binibini pero gusto ko lang makita yung iyong mga ngiti.” Did I disturb you? I'm sorry, Miss but all I want is to see your smile.

You huffed, and looked away for a moment. He chuckled, and tilted your face towards him. His eyes lingered on your lips, but he kept his restraint. It was far too early or quick for him to do that. He was supposed to take his time when he courts her and she in turn, wouldn’t give in so easily.

“At ngayon, nakita ko na ang pinakamagandang ngiti sa balat ng lupa.” And now, I have seen the most beautiful smile in the world. He smiles, his hands lingering on her lips, “Kaya makakatulong ako ngayong gabi ng mabuti.” Which means I can sleep well at night.

“Pero kung ikaw makakatulong ng mabuti ngayong gabi, paano naman ba ako?” But if you get to sleep well at night, how about me? You asked, your eyes glancing at his face. You cupped his cheeks in turn and pulled him close to you, making him hunch down.

“Pwede ba kitang halikan?" May I kiss you? You whisper, leaning in close.

“Pwede.” You may. He answers.

You leaned in close, holding his cheeks against yours as your lips met together. A soft yet bright flame burned through you both. You closed your eyes, your hands wrapped around his neck as you stood on your toes. Pulling away, you take a deep breath, your face turning even redder than ever. Zayne smiles, tracing your lips with his finger before kissing you once more.

Once the act was done, you both stood there , wrapped in each other’s arms. The comfortable silence filling the quiet night as the moon and stars served as witnesses to a love that took years, decades, in the making. You took your hands away from him, reminding him to head home safely. He picks up his lamp, waves goodbye and begins to walk away while you return to the steps of your home.

Your love continued to blossom and developed, increasing in passion and devotion as time continued. You and Zayne exchanged love letters, all of which you kept in a box hidden beneath your clothes. There were times you’d find him outside your window, courting you with sweet songs that you’d reply to. You would bring fresh produce to Zayne, making sure he had a sufficient supply and in turn, Zayne made sure to use them up, creating simple and warm meals for his patients and himself. He would buy his produce from you alone, carrying them in his arms with pride and satisfaction, knowing he had gotten it from the woman he loved and who loved him back.

As time continues to pass, he brings you around him, keeping you close as he was invited to event after event. He would hold your hand and proudly introduce you as the woman he loved, causing the others to stare in disbelief, awe, or envy, but neither of it truly mattered to him.

You were with him and that was more than enough for the both of you.

In the midst of dancing crowds and conversations, you both would slip away from the crowd to spend time together and danced to the beat of your rhythms.

You also became a more frequent face in the clinic he worked at, your presence bringing relief to Zayne especially. When he went to other places, you were with him as you travelled to even more far-fetched communities to provide them with the healthcare they needed and deserved. You watched Zayne work and take care of patients from various walks of life, age, and class, treating them all as individuals needing help. You watched him explain diagnosis to patients and possible solutions around it. You helped him clean around, making sure that the place was spotless and disinfected from any contaminants.

As the day comes to a close, you helped him lock the clinic for the day, changing the sign to indicate that clinic hours were done. You accompanied Zayne, visited patients under his care and checked on their current statuses. Luckily for you both, there weren’t many people he had to see so you two headed back.

When you both arrive back at Zayne’s , you find yourselves standing in front of the same place you both stood on years ago when he left for Manila for the first time.

Gone were the days that you were carefree children, gone were the days you played and read together, and most of all, gone were the days you admired Zayne from afar because you were in his arms. You grabbed something from your pocket, revealing a small cloth. You began to unwrap it, revealing to Zayne an old flower, its colors pressed away and its petals fragile.

“Naalala mo ba ito?” Do remember this? You ask, “Ito yung binigay mo sa aking pag-alis mo papuntang Manila noon. Tinago at protektahan ko ito.” This is what you gave me before you left for Manila before. I hid and protected it with my whole heart.

Zayne smiles, stepping closer to inspect the old and dried flower. He nods, “Oo, naalala ko.” Yes, I remember. He answers, “At pareho sa bulaklak na ito, aalagaan kita at ilalagay ka sa puso ko. Hindi na ko aalis kasi,” And like this flower, I will take care of you and place you in my heart. I don't need to leave because, He brushes gently against the petals and places it aside, “Kasi nakauwi na ako.” Because, I'm home.

As the years pass, both families had met and given approval should you and Zayne finally decide to settle down. There wasn’t a date as to when or where, but that's alright for the both of you. You were still enjoying your time as a couple before settling down for good.

You were both sleeping on a hammock, the wind swinging you and Zayne gently. You were resting on his chest,hearing the sound of his heart beating. A steady rhythm brings you comfort as you rest from the afternoon sun.

In your dreams, you and Zayne finally settled down. You called each other wife and husband, which turned into nanay at tatay when the dream children joined the picture. You’d like to imagine there are two of them, one boy and one girl that you and he would love endlessly. Perhaps both would act and look like him and you would smile and remark how they acted similar to him.

Yes, that sounds nice.

You continue to dream about the lives you would have one day, seeing glimpses of your routine being modified, seeing the children’s smiles and hearing their laughs, and the love you shared with them came from the love you and Zayne have and will continue to have.

“Gising ka na ba? Naririnig kita magsalita.” Are you awake? I heard you talking in your sleep.

Zayne’s voice breaks through the dreams and pulls you back to reality. You glance up at him, seeing his messy hair and his glasses perched on his nose.

You shake your head, “Ah hindi, hindi. Hindi ako nagsasalita." Oh no, no, no. I wasn't talking.

Zayne nods, “Pero nguniniti ka. Ano ba panaginip mo?” But you were smiling. What were you dreaming about?

“Tayo.” Us.

“Tayo?” Us?

You nodded.

He smiles and shakes his head, before placing a kiss on your forehead, “Parang hindi ko na kailangan panagimpan iyan dahil naging totoo siya.” I don't need it to dream about it because it is real.

[tokkistuff]

"Aren't you worried about the criticism?"

"Did you think the society has changed? Gender equality, diversity"

"But we have no control on how they live it, We can't say which decisions are better for them, they have to decide for themselves"

[loganhowlettshousewife]

the librarian

logan howlett x latina!reader

summary: after the events of logan (2017), in a world where logan survives, he and laura move to a small town to start a new life. laura quickly becomes very attached to the librarian, and seeing you with his daughter makes logan fall hard.

warnings: swearing, insecurity on logan's part, potentially slightly out of character but i’m choosing to believe that logan softens up a bit after laura

this is the longest oneshot i've ever written so please be kind because it took a lot of time. my first language is not english, so please do not be rude when offering feedback. i am also not latina, so feel free to offer constructive criticism if you notice anything wrong in the fic.

special thank you to @raeinyourdreams for the spanish dialogue.

series masterlist - my masterlist

you love your job. the library is quiet, peaceful, and you spend every day surrounded by your favourite thing: books. those who come to the library are typically kind, hardly do you have to deal with rude comments or entitled behaviour. you get to plan fun events for the towns kids and toddlers to introduce them to the joys of reading. and on every school day, between 3:00 and 4:00 pm, you get to see laura howlett.

the first time she came into the library, it wasn’t planned. you live in a small town, with an even smaller school, and when laura’s dad failed to show up on time to pick her up, she was sent over to the library next door. she’d stomped through the automatic doors, her small frame tense with irritation, her jaw clenched, slamming her bag down on the ground beside her as she sat down at one of the small circular tables set up in a corner of the small building.

she crossed her arms and stared at the door as if her dad might finally show up if she thought about it hard enough, never sparing you a second glance. so you’d left her alone to stew in her rage, putting away books from the return pile, glancing at the clock every few minutes.

you couldn’t hide your staring when her (extremely attractive) dad finally showed up, heavy footfalls crossing the doorstep and thick, tanned biceps filling your vision. laura cursed at him in rapid spanish, and he grumbled that he didn’t understand a word she was saying. you giggled to yourself at the thought that you never would have gotten away with using such language at her age.

the next time you saw her was a week later, and this time, despite her heavy glare and intense ‘don’t talk to me’ attitude, you approached her. her gaze was suspicious and distrusting as you spoke, asking her in your native tongue if she wanted a book to read while she waited. she’d stared at you for a long minute before saying, “¿hablas español?”

she slowly opened up to you after that, like a flower blossoming in the springtime, short sentences turning into longer rants, into admittance of her inner thoughts and worries and struggles. you give her book recommendations that are popular within her age group and help her with her homework when she struggles with the material, translating words she doesn't understand perfectly. in return, she tells you about her school and home life, about how she’d moved here with her dad, about how she’s only really known him a few months.

you don’t know her past, only the glimpses she’s given you here and there, anecdotes she drops into conversations before changing the subject just as quickly, but you know that she’s struggled with adjusting to all the changes in her life. you’re grateful that she’s allowed you such insight into her mind, that you can help her even in small ways. you can’t help it - she’s wormed her way into your heart, with her quick quips and short temper and snide comments.

“¿crees que mi papá es guapo?” she asks you suddenly. it’s an evening like any other, the two of you working through her science homework together. you choke on your saliva as an image of logan howlett flashes through your mind, his stern face and the hard intensity of his eyes, his large stature and broad back that you always watch, entranced, when he walks out of the library with laura in tow.

“¿por qué preguntas?” you ask her instead of answering as you erase a mistake on her paper, blowing away the leftover scraps the eraser leaves behind.

“las mamás de thea estaban hablando de lo guapo que es.” laura replies, a grimace twisting her face. her eyes narrow as she observes your carefully blank expression. “¿tu opinas igual?”

you shake your head, clacking your tongue against your teeth, “mejor concéntrate en tu tarea.”

the howletts live two houses down from you, on a street of mismatched suburban houses and carefully manicured lawns. sometimes you’ll see logan outside, smoking a cigar on the porch in a thin wife-beater that shows off his large arms, watchful gaze observing the neighbourhood as though surveying the area for potential threats. 

he seems oblivious to the stares he receives from both women and men passing by, walking their dogs or going for a jog, faltering when they pass his house, interest and attraction and jealousy, staring for a few moments too long to be casual. he never gives any of them the time of day, doesn’t respond to their small-talk questions or smiles. his frown just deepens, putting emphasis on the lines that mark his face, a physical manifestation of a life of constant worry and pain.

you’re admiring him from afar as you often do, peering through the window above your sink as you rinse your dishes, when you notice a gorgeous woman approaching his house. she’s all long legs and glowing dark skin, walking right up to him with all the confidence in the world.

and logan howlett, the brooding, mysterious man who keeps to himself and hardly interacts with anyone unless absolutely necessary, smiles at her. it’s a barely-there expression, a softening of his usual gruff persona and resting bitch face, but you notice it nonetheless. the woman is clearly emboldened by his response and leans into his space as she speaks, pressing a hand to his bicep, skin against skin, mouth moving in words you can’t hear.

you look away, pulling the curtains closed on the window, preferring to watch the pale fabric sway slightly than whatever interaction is happening there. you scrub your dishes a little harder than necessary after that, but no one is there to see it but you.

laura packs up her bag, shoving the papers inside randomly, no reason or order to it. you grit your teeth at the thought of how wrinkled and disorganised it’ll all be later, when she needs to find something specific or when it comes time to hand in her work to her teacher, but you keep your mouth diligently shut, because if there’s one thing you know about laura, it’s that she’s stubborn and temperamental and doesn’t take well to criticism.

logan stands beside the front desk, not far from where you’re flipping through the pile of books that had been returned while you were busy with laura, his hands on his hips as he watches her somehow both rush through the task and simultaneously take much too long to complete it. there’s obvious adoration in his eyes, a fondness that can’t be faked by the best of actors.

“do you-,” he starts, stops, an unfinished question that lasts a few seconds while he chases the right words, “laura really likes havin’ you around. talks about you a lot when you’re gone. so i - uh - wanted to invite you over to dinner. no pressure.”

you beam, books all but forgotten, “really?”

he grunts in response, shrugging. it’s not much as far as responses go, not terribly enthusiastic, but he wouldn’t have brought it up to you if he was against the idea, you assume. so you place a hand on his arm, more for your sake than his, enjoying the feeling of his sun-warmed skin and the smooth dark hair against your fingertips, catching his attention so his eyes fall on you instead of laura.

you think of the woman you’d seen speaking to him a few days ago, and a thrill runs through you, a stupidly possessive thrill that you have no right to feel. there’s nothing going on between you and logan, just mutual care for a troubled girl who hasn’t made any friends in school even after weeks.

this is for her, you tell yourself. to make sure she has a support system, people she trusts, to hopefully get her to open herself up to the possibility of other relationships, friendships with children her age who can help her learn what it means to let go and be a child for a bit. but in your mind, there’s still a rather large part of you preening at the fact that you’re going to have dinner at the howlett’s, and you bet that other woman can’t say the same.

“just let me know when,” you say, “i’m not typically very busy so whatever works on your schedule.”

“¿podría ser hoy?” laura asks, bounding up to the two of you, “porfis.”

you can’t say no to her wide eyes and hopeful smile, so you close up the library early. it’s fine, you live in a small town and no one ever really visits the library late at night anyway. the only person who may want to visit has her own key, a copy you’d made after finding the same teenage girl sleeping on the floor of the library six days in a row, having broken into the building each time.

it’s a short walk to the howlett’s house, laura talking your ear off the entire way there, ignoring the looks logan shoots her when she inevitably switches into spanish seemingly without noticing. but you know what it’s like to speak more than one language, you know the way conversations flit in and out between languages, and you can tell it’s often purposeful, done to get a rise out of logan.

“it’s good that you can understand her,” logan says as he unlocks the front door, his daughter running into the house and leaving the two of you behind, “i can’t, half the time. probably makes me sound like a shit dad.”

“it doesn’t,” you assure him, “laura talks about you all the time when you’re not around and she thinks you’re wonderful. she said you’ve only been in her life a few months? you can’t be expected to learn a whole language in that time.”

logan ignores your praise just as you’d expected him to do, “i think you remind her of home. it was fucked up but there were good parts. and i took her away from there. i did it for her but she still had to leave everythin’ and everyone she knew.”

“i’ll gladly be that piece of home if she needs it,” you say softly, “you got her out of a bad place. i don’t know much but i know that. her home is wherever you are.”

talking to logan is frighteningly easy, and the conversation continues as he heads into the kitchen. their house is nice, clean but sparsely decorated, not the artfully minimalist look of a magazine cover but rather the home of someone who never really knew how to settle down, how to allow a place to become more than just a shell, a temporary refuge to eventually be left behind. it screams logan, and makes you wonder what exactly he’s been through. 

but laura’s things are strewn around the place, a jacket of hers thrown on the couch, comic books that have seen better days piled on the coffee table, school papers on the countertop. it chases away the cold feeling that would otherwise linger between these walls.

you help logan cook, not willing to stand around doing nothing while you wait for the food to be ready. you admit to him that you’re surprised at his talent in the kitchen, and for a moment his jaw tenses like he’s going to tell you something difficult but he doesn’t. his arm brushes against yours as you hand him the spices that he requests, and goosebumps raise on your arms at the feeling.

laura eats like she hasn’t had food in days, and says the meal tastes better because you helped make it, which makes you laugh and logan roll his eyes. chiding laura on her table manners reminds you of your childhood, and an image flashes in your mind, unbidden, of you in this very same setting but as laura’s mother and logan’s wife.

it’s a vision you push away, one you’ll allow to linger as you’re falling asleep but that has no place in your thoughts now.

“next time we should do this at my house,” you comment, without really thinking over your words, your attention on laura and logan’s hand that lingers close to your thigh under the table, not touching you but present enough to offer a good distraction, “to make things fair, i mean.”

“next time?” logan repeats, and you falter, realising what you’d offered. there’s a familiarity in the way you’d made the offer, a throwaway comment, a familiarity that doesn’t exist between you and logan - at least not yet.

“if you’d want,” you offer slowly, “and if laura wants. i just - had fun tonight. it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to do it again.”

and you do. approximately once a week you start to have dinner with the howletts, switching between their place and yours. they’re a familiar presence in your life now, enough that you don’t startle when one of them sneaks up behind you, impossibly light on their feet, the stealth of hunters stalking their prey. you’d told this to logan and he’d raised an eyebrow at you and smirked but refused to explain his reaction to your words.

you start to teach logan recipes from your childhood, the sweet spices and flavours that bring you back to being laura’s age filling the kitchen. you argue with logan about not needing a recipe, saying you just know when it’s right.

though she never comments on it, you see the way laura’s smile brightens every time you place a dish on the table. you hope it brings her a modicum of comfort, reminds her of her place of birth the way it always does for you.

you haven’t felt so free in a long time, and you come to the belated realisation that you’ve been lonely lately, something you can only differentiate now that you feel it shifting. you love your friends but they have busy lives of their own, and you love your library but books can’t compensate for human contact, try as you might. 

“te noto estresada,” laura comments, poking your hand when you stare off into space for the third time that day.

“lo estoy,” you respond, “se averió una tubería y ahora tengo que llamar al plomero, pero no quiero..”

most kids wouldn’t care to have a conversation about these more monotonous, adult subjects, but laura pauses in her homework to give it a genuine reflection. she taps the eraser-end of her pencil against the table, nodding to herself like she’s just come up with an obvious solution.

“no tienes que. mi papá sabe reparar cosas,” she says, “pídele el favor.”

you hate to take advice from a child, even if that child is laura, who often acts much older than her age, and you hate to bother logan even more, but you don’t make much as a librarian and if there’s any way to save some extra money, you’re willing to embarrass yourself in front of the hot man you may have a slight crush on. 

you broach the topic when he comes to pick her up as usual, and to your surprise, he agrees easily. you don’t even have to ask the question, as soon as he’s heard the problem he’s offering up his help.

he shows up at your house later that night, deeming it fine to leave laura home alone since there’s only a 40% chance she’ll break something. he’s dressed in only a thin wife-beater, biceps on full display as he hunches under your sink, the muscles in his back flexing as he works. you stay in the kitchen, using the excuse that you should make sure he’s not making it worse, but spend the entire time staring at the shape of him, large and broad and everything you want.

“thank you,” you tell him when he’s finished, handing him a beer that you’d bought specifically for when he showed up at your place.

“no problem,” he says, shrugging, not making eye contact with you in a way that’s uncharacteristic of him, “no point havin’ you pay someone to do it when i can do it just fine.”

“but you had no obligation to help me,” you remind him softly.

“you help me all the time,” he responds gruffly, “you deal with laura’s shit and don’t complain. you spend time with us even if you got your own life to worry about. it’s only fair.”

you frown at that, “i enjoy spending time with you, logan. it’s not a favour of some kind that you have to repay.”

he grunts an acknowledgement that you don’t quite believe, quiet as he finishes the rest of his beer, and then he’s gone.

it’s hard not to know everyone in a small town, forcing you to make polite small talk with people you walk by who ask about your life and your family and friends and how’s your job going? it’s frustrating, one of the reasons you plan your errands for later in the evening, when the crowds are thinner and most of the people in the grocery store are people like you, who don’t want to be bothered, and teenagers wreaking havoc in the aisles.

you’re looking at fruit when you hear someone call your name, a voice that’s not immediately familiar, which raises alarm bells in your mind, the sound crescendoing into a siren as the click-clack of heels approaches. you resolutely keep your eyes in front of you, hoping that if you look very busy choosing avocados, perhaps you won’t be bothered.

this technique fails immediately, a woman coming up to your side and picking up the avocado you’d just put back, squeezing it to check if it’s ripe. the act is innocent, trying to put you at ease, but you know better. if she was just here to grab groceries she wouldn’t have called out your name, wouldn’t be tilting her head towards you with a saccharine smile.

you’ve seen her around, though you can’t remember her name, an older woman with two boys whose divorce was the talk of the town for a few months last year. from afar she appears put-together, dressed in business-casual attire indicating that she hadn’t had the time to change from her work clothes, blonde hair slicked back into a bun. but up close you can see the strands of hair that had begun falling out, the way her eyes were tight at the corners. a tired single mother.

you feel a pang of guilt at the way you’d immediately wanted to dismiss her, remind yourself that you have the day off tomorrow so you can sleep in, and smile at her.

“so, i heard a rumour, and you know i’m not one to gossip,” she glances your way expectantly, so you prompt her to continue, “which is why i’m asking you directly. you and logan howlett… do you have something going on?”

you pause, considering. it wouldn’t be a lie to say yes, as there is something going on between you and logan, though you know how she’ll interpret the words. you know that she would return home and immediately call everyone she knows to spread the news, and since the townspeople hadn’t left logan alone since he’d moved here, it would eventually spread to him, someone or another asking him about it, pressing for details.

“we’re… friends,” you settle on eventually, “i help laura with her homework sometimes after school and we got to know each other from that.”

it’s a truthful answer, if not deliberately vague. you hate to be the center of drama or attention - there’s a reason you chose to work at a library, quiet and unassuming and not interesting enough to be the subject of speculation.

she giggles, a true laugh, her expression softening with a hint of relief. she bumps you with her shoulder as if speaking to a longtime friend and says, “well, just between you and me, i know a lot of women who are going to be relieved to hear that.” 

you and logan grow closer, to the point where laura no longer initiates most of the time you spend together. you introduce him to your favourite movies when he mentions how long it’s been since he watched one, evenings spent giggling at the television screen while laura sleeps upstairs, having gone to bed long ago.

hours pass so quickly with logan by your side, until the sky resembles a painting, and he walks you home under the constellations of stars. he hangs by the door for a while longer, the both of you drifting, not quite ready to part ways, but you both have jobs in the morning and so you reluctantly bid him goodnight, letting the door to your home shut behind you, hiding the way you beam when he says it back.

dinner comes and goes like any other week, and soon enough you’re standing in logan’s kitchen helping him clean the dishes. this is the part where laura leaves the two of you alone, not wanting to be dragged into the chore, slipping out in that creepily silent way of hers.

there’s a tension that clings to logan tonight, a darkness that’s permeated over the evening, one you’d noticed when he’d come to pick up laura from the library and had almost said something to you but stopped. it wasn’t unusual for logan to be silent, letting you fill the majority of the conversation with your stories and laughter, responding with comments that make you laugh, proud smiles tugging on his lips when your body curls into him.

you’re not surprised when he puts the final dish in the washing machine and turns to face you, something akin to determination in his eyes, though you hardly know anything that could be the cause.

“another parent asked me out today,” he says, “the mom of someone in laura’s class.”

“oh,” you say, certain being stabbed in the heart would hurt less. you’re suddenly slightly nauseous, and you briefly consider using it as an excuse to go home early, but you’re not a coward. you won’t run from a conversation that’s inevitable.

one day logan will meet someone, whether that day is today you aren’t sure, and he’s going to fall for them. you consider the possibility that that person could be you, but you’re normally good at reading people, at seeing the subtleties in body language to indicate attraction, and logan has never given you any signs of your feelings for him being reciprocated.

it could be that he’s generally just a difficult person to read, that over the course of his life he’s had to learn to bury his emotions in a way many people don’t. it’s possible, believable even, with how long it had taken you to learn the intricacies of his expressions, the way the slightest tension between his brows could mean several different things. or, you think, he’s just not into you.

“is that good?” you ask, instead of voicing your current thoughts, which are a mantra of: fuck, fuck, no, fuck, please no.

“no,” he replies like it should be obvious, “her son is an asshole who tried to bully laura on her first day of school. she punched him.”

“good for her,” is your only reply.

you feel awful for the way his vehement denial makes you feel, a pleased warmth spreading in your stomach, a happiness you’ll carry with you all the way home. it’s not your place, and yet here you are, hoping that he doesn’t find love, thinking that you’d rather he be alone forever than with someone other than you. it’s selfish, cruel, makes it hard to keep your expression neutral over the disgust you feel at yourself rising.

logan’s watching you carefully, “it is good for her. she almost got suspended but i think even the principal was afraid of her.”

the conversation pitters out, your answering hum the only reply you can give with your mind wandering. it’s the perfect time to ask, the conversation relevant enough that it won’t be coming out of nowhere, a casual query that he can refuse to answer if he so desires.

“but otherwise,” you say, “if there was no history between her son and laura and she’d asked you out, what would you have said?”

“no,” he says again. quick, easy, painless and yet horribly painful for you.

“is there anyone in town that you’ve noticed?” you ask because you can’t help yourself, the pull of curiosity is too strong, almost as strong as the pull that always brings you into logan’s orbit when you stand close enough, bringing you unconsciously closer.

there’s a pause long enough to make your heart race, the beat so loud you can hear it ringing in your ears, a hard rhythm that’s much too rapid to be healthy. you wonder what logan can see on your face, following the way his impassive gaze traces over you, catching on your eyes and the quirk of your mouth.

when he speaks at last you can hardly hear it over the rushing sound of your anxiety. “i’ve noticed you.”

“what?”

“you,” he repeats, shrugging like it doesn’t matter, “but i’m old and worn. too much for a pretty thing like you. and there’s so much you don’t know about my life, horrible shit i’ve done that’ll make you look at me different. i’m angry and violent and i drink too much to deal with my emotions, even if i’ve cut back since laura. and her, laura. i got a kid now. can’t force that responsibility onto you too.”

you lift a hand up, silently asking him to stop, to allow you time to process the words you’re fairly certain were not a hallucination. he refuses to look at you, jaw clenched, staring instead at his hands the way one would stare at a murder weapon, an angry glare that speaks of hatred, pain and resentment.

it’s that look that makes the decision for you. you place your hand on top of his, dark glare now pointed at your hand, faltering when your fingers trace the grooves between his knuckles. you allow him a moment of silence to process, content to wait now that your mind is no longer racing, overthinking every breath and creating unlikely scenarios. rather, you feel calm, and you hope that the way you squeeze his hand transfers some of that peace to him.

“is this your version of asking me out?” you ask when his eyes lock on yours, a raging storm hiding behind the calm facade of his careful mask, “because normally people don’t try to convince the other person to say no.”

“i’m not asking anything,” he replies, voice hoarse, “i know how i feel about you. but i’m a mess and i can’t ask you to deal with that.”

“alright, well, even if you’re not asking this is me saying yes,” you tell him, turning his hand so his palm faces up, lacing your fingers together, skin still slightly damp from the washing you’d been doing.

he doesn’t let go of your hand, but he changes the subject. you don’t argue. logan has some sort of feelings for you, though he hasn’t put them into clear words, and for now, that’s enough. you can wait while he wades through whatever self-hatred spiral is happening in his mind, the excuses he’ll give you for why you can’t be together. because he was holding back before, when he’d explained why he wasn’t good enough for you. he’d forced himself to stop talking, but you can tell there’s more behind that angry rant.

so instead of pushing, you let the rest of the evening pass as it usually would, playing monopoly with laura, her temper rising when the game doesn’t go her way, cussing at the board in spanish. she’s creative with her insults and you press your lips together tightly to hold back a laugh. you’re certain logan knows what she’s saying, or can at least make an educated guess, but he doesn’t comment on it.

she heads upstairs when she loses, stomping her feet down on every step, a strange contrast to how she often moves like a shadow. you’re content to let her walk away, knowing the anger isn’t real - she’ll grumble and stew in the loss for a bit before moving on as she always does.

“you need to know what you’re getting into,” logan says, and it takes you a while to piece together what he means, your earlier conversation pushed to the back of your mind during monopoly. “if you agree to this and then realise it’s too much and leave - i don’t think laura’d be able to handle it.”

there’s an unspoken, and me, in the way he watches you, vulnerable, something logan loathes to be. so you wrap your arms around him, not for the first time, but it hasn’t yet lost its novelty. you feel his body heat despite the layers of clothing separating the two of you from making direct skin-to-skin contact, sighing in pleasure as you relax with your head on his chest.

“we’re not strangers logan,” you say, “i know who you are, how you treat me, how you treat your daughter. and if more of this is what it’s like to date you, to be with you, i don’t see myself leaving.”

diversity december taglist: @raeinyourdreams @meetmypointlessaddiction @chubbyhedgehog @yxtkiwiyxt @isepod @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes

latina!reader taglist: @naggywaggy @mami-veracruz @spencerswh0r3 @gl1ndathegoodwitch @taextannie

[ambeauty]

thoughts about Sydney and Carmy’s Love Story as told through the music in The Bear

If you know anything about the bear you know that the music is extremely important to the storytelling. There have been many metas about specific songs and versions of songs and the artists and genre influence the story. For this one, I’d like to illustrate how I think the music replaces the dialogue and tells Sydney and Carmy’s love story more overtly. Chris curates the music and editing choices himself so I know that every song choice is intentional as well as where they are placed. I believe that when the dialogue drops out and the lyrics come in and are transcribed into the subtitles, it is done to illustrate what the characters are feeling in these moments even when they can’t explain those feelings themselves. These are just a few examples but I believe there are many many more.

Season 1

Impossible Germany by Wilco- plays infamously behind Sydney and Carmy in Sheridan as she discusses her catering business failing. Their first moment of vulnerability. Sydney also asks Carmy for help. Something she doesn’t really like to do. The lyrics on the subtitles are “That’s what love is.”

Season 2

Pasta- You are Not Alone by Mavis Staple - the through line of the entire season. This song plays as Sydney has dinner with her father to celebrate her mother’s birthday and Carmy is reintroduced to Claire. This moment initiates what is the central rift between these two characters will be. Who are theoretically loners, but able to find kinship with each other. However a new character threatens that dynamic and possibility. The lyrics of You Are Not Alone describe them perfectly.

Forks - Love Story by Taylor Swift- “Marry me Juliet you never have to be alone. I talked to your dad go pick out a white dress.”

This lyric plays at the end credits of forks. The beginning of forks shows Carmy and Sydney working on the renovations of the bear. Separately but together, yet still alone. I also think that lyric represents the future partnership agreement which is a business marriage of the two. Once they are official partners, they’ll never have to be alone. Also "I talk to your dad" is funny because we know how Emmanuel feels about Carmy and how they have yet to meet. What will that meeting mean for Sydney and Carmy?

Most episodes in S2 after the end of Sundae, where Sydney loses trust in Carmy after her ditches her, shows her doing research and design alone. She never goes back to his home.

Even though Carmy is with Claire there’s a sense of loneliness for him in her world, because he doesn’t quite fit. This might be a reach, but I just tried to analyze his body language in Pop, which to me felt stiff and uneasy. He knows he’s supposed to be somewhere else but he’s trying to cure his loneliness with Claire as she is the first person that truly forces him to confront his failures at forming romantic relationships.

Season 3

No Machine by Adrianne Lenker - the lyrics "don’t know what I’d do without you" illustrate a scene where Carmy is thinking of a conversation with Claire, the scene cuts and everything is blurry around him but Sydney's voice is clear, the scene cuts again and its Richie in the dining room listening but thinking about his family. Another lyric/subtitle "don't know where I'd go without you" and it cuts again to Sydney at home contemplating her relationship with Carmy from the beginning. All 3 of our main characters are contemplating what they mean to each other and what their life is like with them in it. I think this song describes the throughline of the season as well. They are all contemplate the importance of these bonds they have created and what they actually mean.

I'm quite sure there are many other examples of this occurring but I don't have the capacity to do the amount of research this requires. However, if you notice this pattern of the music enhancing the emotional depth of the characters and the story and want to share please do so.

Hopefully this makes sense and not more senseless sydcarmy babble!

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

How to Use Absurdist Humor

I will often excuse away the “worst” of Marinette’s behavior with a very dismissive, “It’s an obvious joke, so there’s no point taking this as a serious character beat. Let’s not waste our time here.”

While I stand by that statement, I can see why some people struggle with this approach. Miraculous has made the unfortunate choice to tie the humor to parts of the narrative that have actual meaning to the audience. This undercuts the power of the humor, making it hard for some people to separate the humor from the actual character beats, so let’s step back and look at a show that did this right to show what I mean.

That’s right, folks, it’s time for more gushing about Kim Possible!

For today’s case study, we'll start with episode 17 of season one: The Twin Factor. In this episode, Kim is stuck babysitting her little brothers while on a mission to stop her arch nemesis. You may be thinking that Kim's "flaw" in this episode is the fact that she brings two 10-year-olds on a dangerous mission.

You would be wrong.

This is the lead-in to Kim bringing the twins along:

Kim: Er, speaking of forgetting, I totally spaced on the baby-sitting. Mrs. Dr. Possible: Kimmy, you made a commitment. Kim: Two commitments, actually. I'm suppose to go on a mission today. Mr. Dr. Possible: You'll just have to take the boys. Kim: Mom, can you please tell Dad that's a bad idea? Mrs. Dr. Possible: Oh, Kimmy. I'm sure Jim and Tim would love to visit a secret lab with you.

This is how you do absurdist humor. Is this technically horrible parenting? Yes, but there is no way that anyone is taking this seriously. It’s just so over the top that anyone trying to criticize the Possible’s behavior comes across as completely missing the point.

The other important factor is that Kim’s parents are played as genuinely loving and supportive parents, just in a really absurd way. This is a very natural bit of loving family dialogue about a totally ridiculous version of a normal family conflict. None of these three characters show off flaws that we expect to see address here save for their complete lack of concern about Kim’s life-risking adventures.

If Kim’s parents were shown to be genuinely neglectful or if Kim’s adventures were played more seriously, then this humor wouldn’t work anywhere near as well as it does. It would still be an obvious joke, but it would stumble the landing if you knew that the episode would go on to see Jim and Tim die. (They don’t, btw. The absurdist humor carries on, I’m just giving an extreme example of a plot beat that would kill – or at least weaken – this humor.)

Another example of Kim Possible doing absurdist humor right comes from the next episode in season one: Animal Attraction. In this episode, Kim is up against Senior Senior Senior, an eccentric billionaire who pursues villainy as a hobby, leading to exchanges like this one between him and his son:

Jr.: Did we not leave Kim Possible on a conveyor belt to her doom? Sr.: Yes. A proper villain always leaves his foe when he's about to expire. Jr.: Why? Sr.: Well, it would be bad form just to lull about, waiting for it. Jr.: Why? Sr.: Tradition!

This episode has a lot of moments like this. Moments where Jr asks why they don't do the obvious, more easy/effective thing and his father blows him off because that's not how villains do things! It's totally illogical logic and it's great. I love it! Perfect example of absurdist villains and a great way to keep the show from getting too serious. The writers never wanted you to feel like Kim was in over her head.

If you look at these two examples and compare them to Miraculous, you'll notice a big difference. While Miraculous does occasionally pull off good absurdist humor, a lot of the absurdist humor is more questionable because it's tied to the show's central conflicts.

As an example, let's talk about Marinette's inability to confess to Adrien and all the nonsense tied to that. Her many failures and attempts to know him better are clearly jokes, but they have this serious edge because the show has not set up the love square as nothing more than a source of humor. This is our end game couple. The audience expects to see their romance developed. The longer the show goes on without doing that and the more absurd Marinette's attempts get, the less the comedy works.

Another good example is Lila's lies. There is a solid argument to be made that the writers are trying to be funny with Lila's extremely obvious lies, but it doesn't work because the lies are a source of serious conflict. Lila is working with the villain! She gets Marinette expelled! We want to see her outed! Every obvious lie she tells just grates on our nerves because this is not the time for jokes!

To be fair, you can use absurdist humor in more serious shows. Another of my personal favorites is The Good Place, which relies heavily on absurdist humor, but has a very serious and heartfelt overall plot. The humor works there because the show knew when to use the humor and when to be serious and also because The Good Place is not a formula show. It's a serialized show. One big story told in 20-minute chunks. This meant that the humor had more room to breath and could be more closely tied to serious conflicts. When every story has to stand alone and be finished in 20-minutes, that blending rarely ever works. You're trying to do too much.

Kim Possible's writers knew this, too. The two tie-in movies (Kim Possible: A Sitch in Time and So the Drama) are still comedies, but they both have far more serious tones because they had the time to do that. While the episodes run about 20 minutes, both movies run a little over and hour which meant they could be more serious than in a standard episode.

So why did I write all that up? Because I was watching Kim Possible and thinking about how much better the humor generally was and I suddenly realized how easy it would be to be confused by Miraculous' humor if you didn't have this kind of background. I've seen enough absurdist humor to identify it with ease and even I struggle with Miraculous at times. Like I'm still not sure if Lila's lies are supposed to be a joke or not.

If you're new to absurdist humor or struggle to interpret less overt humor? Then I can see how you'd take Miraculous way more seriously than the writers intended because a lot of the absurdist humor simply isn't absurd enough. That doesn't change the fact that it's humor and I'm still going to treat it as such, but I can see why it goes right over some people's heads and leads to complaints like, "Marinette has his schedule for the next three years!!!" That was a joke, but I get why you're missing it.

[cerastes]

Bro any time I think about Valkyria Chronicles I laugh my nipples off, the game is fundamentally flawed gameplaywise but, simultaneously, it's stupidly fun, which is the recipe for any club banger, it has a story that weaves flawlessly between "that's pretty poignant" and "this is some goofy goober shit", it's got the horrors of war but also this fucking pig piece of shit mascot, Hans,

It's an amalgam of white and black without any gray: It exists on extremes, and it never intersects, it's playing two parallel lines and coming to terms with the fact that you'll never see cohesion but that somehow enhances the end product in ways evidently no one intended. You have narrative comparisons with the persecution of jews and, at the same time, the game ends with the bad guy getting German Suplexed.

But I think the funniest aspect of Valkyria Chronicles The First is that the main character is the farthest thing from a war hero they could possibly muster with the expertise of a stoic Japanese swordsmith from the mountains crafting a god-cleaving blade: Welkin.

This Scout From TF2 Put Through An Anime Filter looking mother fucker was chilling in his hometown talking about how much he wanted to be a teacher and showing people his really good sketches of animals because he's also a gifted artist, when suddenly, the Dudes attack, and his reaction to the Dudes attacking is "hang on, I recall my dad hiding his actual service tank in the shed in the back" so he goes and, yeah, his dad's tank from a previous war is just there, chilling, so he takes it for a joy ride while the town baker, Alicia, armed with a rifle and infinite action economy due to the afore mentioned flawed gameplay, sweeps the entire god damn platoon of heavily armed machine gun troops.

The entire game is Welkin using his love for nature and his baker love interest to inflict insane personnel and materiel damage to an entire empire: Welkin and Alicia will come across a heavily fortified bridge, and the dialogue will go something like

"Welkin! They will pulverize us with the heaviest machine guns known to man if we step one foot in that bridge! They practically developed wooden low-orbit bombardment stations! What's the plan!"

"Well... Look at that duck over there. It's flying from the east to the west, right? Well, YOU SEE, that duck is known as a Balkunese Socioduck, and those, during this season, migrate from west to east, and they only exhibit this irregular flight path if a Matrisgel Weasel family is molting by the juniper berry bushes, their favorite food. Matrisgel Weasels only ever molt if they are put under the exact amount of stress caused to them by the sound of distant tank threads on the road, and they are known to hide in sturdy, stable soil."

"Welkin, SIR, what the fuck does this all mean?"

"If we follow the smoldering shrieking of the molting weasels, we'll find a SECRET PATH that will, as always, let us ambush, flank, and surprise our foes! Alicia, you know what to do."

"Ogggeyyyyy"

and then, invariably, no matter the level, thanks to Welkin's impressive knowledge of fauna and flora, and Alicia's literally infinite action economy in a game that wasn't properly beta tested in-house during development, they combine their powers like a piss poor Captain Planet and kill the absolute shit out of an entire Empire's worth of dudes, and it's legitimately one of the most fun and charming games you'll ever touch if you remember to not take it too seriously. I fucking hate Hans but I love this game.

[juniperskye]

Why are you in my head? Pt. 3

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you are soulmates. The legend of soulmates is that you start to hear one another’s thoughts around age 16 – not all the time, but when you’re feeling a strong emotion. It simply flows out of you and into the other, the legend also states that the closer you are, the more you can hear them. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** I did also use some of the dialogue

Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts. (mind you, they are essentially hearing both sets of thoughts)

Eddie Munson x Fem Sunshine! Reader (Soulmate AU)

Fluff/Angst - Part 1 Part 2 Part 4** Part 5

Word count: 2583

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! My blog is 18+, minors DNI, explicit language, no use of y/n, fem reader, mentions of drugs/sale of drugs/drug use, arguing, mentions of Eddie’s drug addict parents, mention of post-partum depression, mention of child endangerment, mention of child death, mention of murder, mention of suicide, mention of foster care, let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story

I miss you so fucking much. How could you think so little of me. I’m sorry. You just don’t understand what it’s like. You don’t even know me. We’re soulmates, of course I know you. Our thoughts weren’t shared until we were both teenagers, you know nothing about how I was brought up. Can I see you? Please.

Thoughts between soulmates were shared more frequently when experiencing high levels of stress, primarily during long periods of separation after meeting, or fighting.

“Hey bug, Eddie’s on the phone for you.” Your dad knocked lightly on your door.

“Tell him I don’t want to talk to him!” You hollered up to your dad.

Since your fight with Eddie, one week ago, your parents had noticed your very apparent, sour mood. You really had no choice but to tell them that you had in fact met your soulmate and had been hanging out with him non-stop. Your mom had been thrilled for you; she had wanted to know everything about Eddie. Your dad on the other hand, he was furious. He clocked the tear tracks that ran down your cheeks the second you walked in the door, and he wanted Eddie’s address so he could kick his ass. You had assured him that it wouldn’t be necessary, that no matter how upset you were in the moment, in your heart you knew the two of you would be able to work things out.

“Sweetie, maybe you should take his call.” Your mom suggested.

“Maybe you should butt out!” You shouted back.

You were immediately filled with regret. Quickly making your way up the stairs you threw open your door to come face to face with your parents.

“Mom, I am so sorry.”

She pulled you into a tight hug, her hand gently brushing at the hair on the back of your head. She always did this when you hugged, and it always brought a warm comfort throughout your body.

“It’s okay. I know that you are upset. Maybe you should try talking to him sweetie, it might make you feel better.” She suggested once more.

“Okay, I guess you’re probably right.” You nodded.

“Well, that’s good because he is on his way right now.” Your dad informed you.

“What? Dad! A little warning would be nice! He doesn’t live that far, and I have to get ready!” You started scrambling down the stairs into your room to get ready.

Your parents chuckled, remembering what it was like to be that young and new in love.

A knock at the door had you sprinting up the stairs and practically shoving your dad out of the way so you could get there first. You weren’t quite ready to have Eddie meet your parents, especially since you aren’t currently on the best of terms.

You opened the door with just enough room to slide out of the house. You took note of Eddie’s disheveled appearance, he had bags under his eyes, his hair looked especially frizzy, and his skin didn’t have its usual glow.

“Hey.” He said sheepishly.

“Hi.” You replied.

“Did you uh, did you want to go sit in the van and talk?” Eddie said gesturing to where it was parked at the end of your driveway.

You nodded and the two of you made your way to the vehicle. He wanted so badly to pull you into his arms and kiss all this pain away, but he knew that it wouldn’t be that simple, he had made some snap judgements and said some hurtful things to you. He knew he needed to apologize and that the two of you still had a lot to learn about one another.

“Baby, I am so sorry. I said some awful shit to you, and I shouldn’t have. I just, I am so used to having people judge me. For how I look, for where I live, who I live with, the people I hang out with, the music I listen to, the field of work I’m in. And I know that you weren’t judging me, that you were just looking out for me because you care, but baby I couldn’t help but let those past feelings eat me alive when you were talking to me.” Eddie explained.

“Eddie, I appreciate you apologizing. I’ve had time to think about things too and I can understand how my reaction could have come across as judgmental. Eddie, my dad is a cop, I have heard what happens to people when they’re caught with a little bit of weed in their possession, but if you were caught selling it, or something worse. Eddie I can’t lose you. Not when I have only just found you.” Tears were running down your face at this point.

Eddie scooted closer to you on the bench of the van, he brought his hand up to cup your cheek, gently brushing away your tears with his thumb. He leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. When you two broke apart, he leaned his forehead against your own, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I am so sorry baby. Please forgive me?”

“Eddie, before I can forgive you, I need to know that you don’t really think of me like that. I may come from a well-off family now, but there is a lot you don’t know about me and I just – I need to know that you don’t see me as some privileged brat.” You begged.

“Sweetheart, no! I don’t think of you that way. I am so sorry! I don’t even know why I said that. It’s like a defense mechanism. I know that there’s so much I don’t know about you, and I hope that you will trust me enough to tell me everything there is to know about you.” He rushed.

You were both startled by a knock on the window. Looking over at the passenger window, you were mortified to see your dad standing there, giving you and Eddie a small wave. He then gestured for you to roll the window down. You visibly cringed as you began cranking the window open, mouthing an embarrassed apology to Eddie.

“Dadddd…what do you want?” You whined.

“Your mother sent me out here to let you know that dinner is ready. She also wanted me to ask if your friend here would be joining us.” He explained.

Your eyes darted over to Eddie. You were trying to decipher his expression, was he as horrified as you were? Was he intrigued by the idea of meeting your parents.? Was he ready to flee and never return?

Would you want me to stay?

You couldn’t help but smile. His thought was timed perfectly, this soulmate thing definitely had its perks.

Of course I want you to stay! I just don’t want them to scare you off.

“If it’s alright with you sir, I’d like to stay for dinner.” Eddie looked at your dad, who replied with a curt nod.

“I can’t believe you’re a Metallica fan! I just finished learning Master of Puppets on my guitar!” Eddie gushed.

“That’s a tough song, I bet you had to practice for weeks!” Your dad indulged Eddie.

This is so embarrassing! Your dad is so cool!

Your mom laughed at the exchange between the two men and she and you cleared the table. She gave you a knowing look and nodded towards your room.

“Why don’t you two go watch a movie, your dad and I can clear the rest of this up.” She suggested.

“Only if you’re sure.” You asked, gaze shifting from your mom to your dad.

“Door stays open.” Your dad pointed towards you.

With that you grabbed Eddie’s hand and led him down to your room, being sure to leave your door open, per your dad’s request. As you descended the stairs, Eddie’s jaw made its way to the floor. He was amazed by your room, you had records hung on the walls and ceiling, one of your walls had an incredible photo collage, with photos of you, your friends and family throughout the years, and below that were stacks of books next to a small desk. He’d have to ask you about who all these people were. You also had a projector screen that you clearly used for movies.

“This is amazing! You read J.R.R. Tolkien and Stephen King? And these records, this is so cool, I would never want to leave if this was my room!” Eddie exclaimed.

God, like you could get any hotter.

“Yeah, my parents are pretty cool about letting me express my creative freedoms or whatever.” You shrugged.

You couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach, Eddie had talked about how you got everything you’d ever wanted, and this made that seem true. If only he knew.

Things had continued on pretty well with you and Eddie over the next few months. You guys had grown closer, trusting one another with the heavier secrets of your lives. Eddie had told more in depth about his parents. His mom had gotten hooked on drugs thanks to his dad, who was quick to put hands on Eddie and his mom when he was under the influence – which seemed to be more often than not.

You had wanted to tell Eddie about your past too, but the timing just didn’t seem right. Every time you went to share, something came up, or you were trying to avoid it coming across as you are one-upping him and his trauma.

Things aren’t always what they seem.

Eddie had dinner at your house once a week, and you’d traded off whose house you’d go to after school each day. Nothing physical had transpired between the two of you other than a few heavy make out sessions. At each other’s houses you had fallen into a routine, at yours you would either watch a movie or read, at his you’d either watch a movie, listen to music, or help him with his campaigns.

Tonight happened to be dinner at your house, your parents had suggested ordering a pizza tonight and playing Monopoly. Eddie had enjoyed nights like this, your parents had been extremely welcoming of him. He had appreciated that they didn’t judge him, not once in all the time he has known them. They had been warm and kind and accepting.

Your dad had bonded with him about his taste in music and had shown an interest in Dungeons and Dragons. Your mom talked to him about his future and his dreams of being in a band, but the reality of him probably becoming a mechanic.  Your mom had told him that he should pursue music as long as he had something he could fall back on should it not work out. She told him that he could achieve his dreams as long as he worked hard at it.

These conversations, these dinners, these nights with your family had been amazing, they had also been painful for Eddie. He couldn’t help but feel hurt that he didn’t get to have a childhood like this, that he had to get his ass beat by his dad while his mom was strung out on the couch. He hadn’t been removed from their custody until he was about 10 years old, that’s when child services pulled him from their care and moved him in with Wayne.

Wayne had grown fond of you immediately; he had seen how Eddie had changed immediately after meeting you. He had been happier, which meant the world to Wayne. All Wayne had ever wanted was for Eddie to have something good in his life and here you were. You and Wayne were buds and it filled Eddie with a sense of pride that his uncle approved of you.

Now if only things could stay simple like that forever.

Eddie and you had finished dinner and a game of Monopoly at your house. You were planning to go to Eddie’s after to watch Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2. After pulling up in front of the trailer, Eddie made his way to your side of the van and pulled you out of the car. You giggled as he kissed you and the two of you stumbled into the living room.

He made his way to the kitchen to grab drinks for you both and he began popping some popcorn.

“Sorry about my parents tonight. I know they can be super lame.” You huffed out a laugh.

“What do you mean? Your parents are great!” Eddie said.

“No, I know, but they act so goofy. It’s embarrassing.” You shook your head.

At least you have parents.

“Jesus Eddie.”

“What? I didn’t…oh shit. Babe I’m sorry. It’s just, you should be thankful that you have parents who care about you. Not all of us are that lucky.”

“I’m not that lucky Eddie! Fuck! How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t know me! You don’t know anything about me!” You sighed.

“Then tell me! Please, enlighten me as to how your two wonderful parents can be so bad!” Eddie egged you on.

“THEY'RE NOT MY PARENTS!” You shouted at him, then took a deep breath. “Eddie, they’re not my real parents.”

Eddie sat a looked at you, mouth agape, speechless. You could tell that he was waiting for you to continue, but you needed a moment to collect your thoughts. You had to explain everything, this conversation could change everything.

“My parents, Eddie, they did some horrible shit. Neither of them had any other family, my mom she uh, she had post-partum depression, she wasn’t doing well, for a long time after my little sister was born. I guess that had caused my dad to seek comfort elsewhere, I was only six when all this happened. But uh, my mom she uh she left my sister in the bath alone, my sister slid down into the water and drowned, she was only 8 weeks old. When my dad came home and found her, he was furious. Eddie he killed my mom, and then he killed himself. I ended up in foster care and bounced from home to home until I was twelve, until they took me in.”

“Sweetheart. I, I am so sorry. I don’t, I’m not sure what to say.” Eddie whispered. “But uh, you said. You had mentioned that your mom told you bedtime stories about how her and your dad met.”

“My mom now, she would tell me how her and my dad met, every night until I finally started sleeping.” You explained.

The nightmares made it impossible. I couldn’t stop seeing the blood.

Eddie crossed the room and pulled you into his arms. He couldn’t believe that he had been so stupid this whole time. You had been silently telling him that your life wasn’t all that perfect, that though now, it seemed good, it hadn’t always been. He needed you to know that he was here for you, no matter what.

I’ve got you. I will always have you baby.

A sob escaped your throat, ripping through the silence. Eddie held you; he laid you with him in his bed, his hand brushing through your hair gently, whispering sweet nothings to you.

I haven’t told anyone that story. Nobody, ever. Not even my parents. Your secret is safe with me. You are safe with me. I love you sweetheart. I love you Eds.

Tag List: @sashaphantomhive

[dirtyslag96]

Idiots in love-James Maguire

Pairing: James Maguire/fem!reader

Rating: PG-16

Words: 1,331 words

Warnings: Fluff, Lying, Curse words, use of Y/N, love interests being idiots in love and oblivious to eachothers love for the other, not proof read

Synopsis: You notice James subtly trying to get your attention and you're not sure why, so you try to find out as you perhaps started developing feelings for the Brit. you're sure of one thing, and that no matter how hard you had tried to lie, he will find out.

a/n: based on prompt #1018 from this list (“Shut up, I’m trying to confess my love to you.”) ". requested by @themallonbisexualmess , also I would appreciate some tips since I'm still new to writing fics, also dialogue between the five will be characterised by the colour, Y/N, Orla, Erin, James, Michelle, Clare

The first day you met James you considered him quite odd, not only because he was English but also he was attending an all girls school and was somehow Michelle Mallon's cousin.

All six of you were sat at Erin and Orla's house after school playing board games when suddenly the home telephone rings.

"would someone go get that its making me deaf for Christ's sake", said Erin.

"Gerry make yourself useful would ya", announced Joe, clearly annoyed by Erin's father.

Gerry looked confused but nevertheless walked over to answer, "Hello?, Yeah she's right here", a couple of seconds later, "I'll let her know"

"Y/N, your parents want you back home in 10 minutes"

"Oh, isn't it a bit early? did they tell you why?", you were confused since it was still 9 o'clock and your parents usually have you curfew by 12.

"No, would you like a ride home?", you never understood why Joe hated Erin's dad so much considering he was the most thoughtful and caring one of all your parents.

"For fuck's sake Y/N did you do something?", Michelle alway commented on everything happening.

"Yeah its a bit weird"

"James, how many times have I told you we do not care"

Seeing James' dissapointed face made you even sadder you were leaving early, though you never understood why your mood also often depended on his. Perhaps you had feelings for him? no, you wouldn't believe it even if you did.

"I'll be on my way then, see you tomorrow", involuntarily you felt yourself looking at James. "Thank you Gerry I would appreciate it if you got me a ride home"

"Bye Y/N!", all of them shouted.

"Finally being useful for once", you heard Joe snicker as you left out the door.

The next day, you had told Clare about it, she said that you definitely have some feelings for him, since you trusted Clare's judgement you've started noticing that James mostly starts conversations directly to you. Clare also had pointed out that when the Ukrainian girl showed up hitting on James, that you had been more closed off and easily exasperated than usual.

The six of you were suspended since Michelle and James had broken the statue "The Child of Prague", while arguing so you all had agreed to meet up at Erin's place for the week. Your mix of emotions towards James had led you to unintentionally start avoiding him, surprisingly Michelle and Clare had been subtly trying push you two together. You speculated that Clare must've told Michelle or that they had also felt a drift between you and James.

Orla pulled out a board game that had the six of you pair up into three teams of two, to decide who would be paired together you all wrote your names at placed it in a random jar that Erin found in the kitchen.

"Orla and...", Clare!", Erin said as she was the one who pulled out the names.

"Interesting..", muttered Orla as Clare took in a loud sigh.

"Y/N and..", "James!", was the universe really fucking with you? you look at him, seeing his happy face made you feel things you never expected to feel for James, then you attempted to avert his gaze but soon enough you looked up to his disappointed and baffled face to why you were trying to avoid him.

Michelle noticed the tension between you two so she broke the deafening silence, "So that leaves me n' you Erin, this is rank".

"Start without me I don't feel well I feel like throwing up, I'll be up in the bathroom", in truth you wanted to be as far away from James as you can so you practically dash upstairs to Erin's toilet. The rest of the five looked quite baffled since nothing seemed wrong with you but you have been acting rather weird these past few days.

You heard a pair of footsteps coming up the stairs and you assumed someone had come up looking for you, you heard a knock on the door, you were praying it wasn't him. But then again you heard knocking again and a voice, James' voice "Y/N are you okay in there?".

You had two options either lie and say you were sick or...

"Y/N!", his voice yet again heard, interrupts your train of thoughts, so you slowly walk over to the bathroom door and open it.

"oh.. hey you said you weren't feeling well so I came up here to check on you but you seem fine right now", right now you couldn't have felt any better since he came up here concerned, the way his hair was ruffled yet tidy, the way his accent affected his words, and his voice.

You remained quiet for a long time, "uh-i guess I didnt need to throw up after all", you said as you tried to push past him to get out of the small bathroom that could have suffocated both of you with the amount of tension in the air.

To your surprise he shifted quickly, blocking you and closing the door acting like a shield. "what-"

"no, I don't get it you've been avoiding me! why? did I do something wrong for fuck's sake Michelle even noticed! she asked if I annoyed you but I would never do it on purpose just please tell what is going on!", his outburst surprised since usually he was quiet and self preserved.

"there's nothing wrong James I don't know where you're getting that idea from"

slowly he stepped forward before he spoke, "you are lying, I can tell-"

"I-, what? this is ridiculous James let me out of here!"

Unbeknownst to the both of you, the rest of the group followed James upstairs and are now listening to your conversation through the door.

"No! not until you tell me what's wrong, have I upset you, , I notice everything about you don't you get it Y/N- ?", his face nearly made you crumble, you felt bad for irritating him as much as you are right know but you are not confessing why you have been avoiding him.

"for crying out loud, no James you haven't upset me in any way shape or form, this is stupid-", you were both cutting each other off, he was not letting you lie, while you were trying not to let him catch on to your feelings.

"Would you shut up, I have been trying to confess my emotions of love to you all week, and you have been simply ignoring that do you know how hurt I felt thinking I had upset you or something!”

You were in genuine shock and you were sure you heard a few gasps from outside the door.

"Do you actually feel that way James? because if so then so do I.."

Like magnets, you both came forward pressing your lips together, you felt him smile. Next thing you know the rest of the girls opened the door and saw both of you, they yelled and talked over eachother at the same time

"OH FINALLY!", exclaimed Clare,

"The form of human art always so interesting", Orla muttered as always,

"Congrats?!", Erin was quite unsure of what to say since she found two of her best friends kissing in her bathroom.

"FINALLY! you two took a long time figuring each other's feelings I was tortured by James talking about you all the time, and Clare the poor girl had to endure you talking about James!", you assumed Michelle would hate the idea of one other bestfriends and her cousin being together.

"What the fuck!", you both yelled while slamming the bathroom door closed and hearing giggles not the other end, you and James looked at each other and started laughing.

"You two get back out here I'm still not a hundred percent on the pair of you, but just because I approve doesn't mean you can start fucking"

"Yeah please not inside of my bathroom either!"

fin.

[gojoonsaturn]

Let's talk about love?

pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem reader

wc: 1992

a/n: When Satoru Gojo appeared at your doorstep with two little children five years ago, you were stunned. The smug, cheeky and selfish Gojo, who was a narcissist (in fact, there are many other adjectives that could be used to describe him), decided to take care of other people's children. At first, you were skeptical, but over time, the four of you became close, and they have become an integral part of your life.

warnings: dialogues, because i love them; fluff, a bit angst, mentioning the death of the reader's parents, grumpy Megumi, cute Tsumiki, loving Satoru, you are parents of Fushiguro! and something more that you'll find (yes, i hate writing warnings)

english is not my first language, nor even second, so there may be mistakes, but i really spent a lot of time proofreading and improving my works.

“What is love?”

Tsumiki was lying next to you late at night, you were reading books together, and at some point, the girl put hers aside and turned to you with a question.

“Love? It depends on the type of love you are talking about. For example, we both love to read, so in that case, love could be seen as a hobby. It’s about enjoying the process of getting lost in another world and getting to know the characters. Or you love Megumi, that’s a different kind of love - a love for a family member.”

“Or how you and Gojo love us, right?”

“That’s right.” You nodded and smiled at Tsumiki.

“And what about the love between two people?”

“Ugh, that’s more complicated, I think. I guess it’s like a friendship that takes on a special level.”

“And how to distinguish a strong friendship from love?”

“Well…” You said, scratching your head and thinking about it. Tsumiki gave you some time to gather your thoughts and waited silently for you to continue the conversation. “I think that, apart from the emotional connection, love is mostly based on physical interactions. When you hug, kiss, or do even more intimate things, it creates a strong bond between you. It’s like there’s something inside us that makes us feel special when we’re with the person we love.

“Like butterflies fluttering in our stomachs?” Fushiguro suggested.

“Yeah, that’s right!”

“And how do you understand that a person loves you, and not just friends with you?”

“I guess it’s hard to tell sometimes, but I think it’s important to listen to your heart. If you feel a strong connection and a deep love for someone, then that’s probably how they feel about you too. To be honest, I’m not sure. People say that if someone loves you, they want to be close to you. When they’re laughing, they’ll look at you. Sometimes, you look at people in love, especially if they try to hide their feelings. They might act awkwardly, but it’s still fun to watch. Of course, caring is also important. Friends care for you, but when you’re in love... It’s a deeper level of caring you feel instinctively. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Not yet, but I think I’ll figure it out in time, don’t you think?”

“Of course! You have your whole life ahead of you. You will definitely find someone who will bring you true love.”

“And you? Have you ever been in love?” Miki asked thoughtfully.

You sighed and fell silent.

“Probably, yes.” You said after a brief pause.

“Is it Gojo?” Tsumiki jumped up and approached you.

“What makes you think so?” You frowned and tried to hide your smile.

“I think he’s in love with you!”

“Miki, unfortunately, love isn’t always mutual. Sometimes, one person loves another, but the other doesn’t feel the same way.”

“You don’t like Gojo?!”

“No, I like him as a friend. Like your dad.” You made air quotes. “I like him as a sorcerer. He’s incredibly powerful, and during our studies, he helped me more than once with my techniques. But sometimes, he can be unbearable!”

Tsumiki laughed and looked at you with a barely suppressed smile on her face.

After a few weeks of busy schedule and constant work, Gojo and you had a few days off. Satoru suggested everyone go to Okinawa, and the children happily accepted, while you seemed slightly tense.

“Is something wrong?” Satoru asked casually.

You rubbed your forehead and forced a smile.

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s actually a good idea. We’ve all been working hard lately, so it would be good to take a break.”

The next day, the four of you boarded the plane and waited for takeoff. You tried to avoid looking out the window, instead of listening to music with your eyes closed. Suddenly, you felt a gentle touch on your arm and opened one eye to see Megumi encouragingly smiling at you. He winked, quickly realizing that you were scared of flying. You smiled gratefully at him and intertwined your fingers with his, closing your eyes again. This time, the fear inside you partially eased.

Once you arrived in Okinawa, you checked into the hotel and headed to the beach. While the children played in the water, you read a book, with Satoru resting on your lap. Gojo lay there, sipping a cocktail.

“Are you okay?” You asked, putting down the book and sensing that he was lost in thought.

“Yes, it’s just a place…” He got up from your lap and sat next to you, watching Miki and Megumi play in the sea. “By the way, I noticed Fushiguro comforting you during the flight… You never mentioned that you were afraid of flying.”

“I don’t think that’s information that needs to be shared.” You scratched your forehead.

“Why not?”

“My parents died in a plane crash.” You overcame the lump in your throat and managed to say the words in a calm tone. “I was 8.”

Gojo took a deep breath and moved closer to you.

“Do you understand that it’s okay to grieve? You don’t have to act like an adult and pretend that you’re not worried about it.”

You felt tears welling up and buried your face in your knees. When you thought the tears had stopped, you looked up to see Satoru smiling softly. You wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come, so you simply looked at him.

“I’m so grateful to have you. I guess for me, you are the family that I have never had.” You said, and Satoru took your hand and kissed the back of your palm.

Miki watched this interaction and smiled at herself.

A couple of hours later, Satoru was playing in the sea with the children. He picked Tsumiki up on his shoulders and chased after Megumi, who was splashing water at him. As you watched this scene, you felt all the tension in your body melt away. Against the backdrop of the setting sun, Satoru and the joy of the children brought a sense of calm to your heart. You stood up from the deck chair and walked towards the group. Megumi ran towards you and hid behind you from Gojo and Miki. You waved your hand, and a small wave washed over Satoru and Tsumiki, causing both of them to squeal.

“That’s not fair!” Satoru removed Tsumiki from around his neck and pouted, crossing his arms over his chest in a show of displeasure.

“Come on, it’s fun!” You patted the guy’s head as you approached him, brushing the sand from his shoulders.

After a few minutes, you noticed that the children were starting to get tired. You led them to their rooms, tucked them into bed and decided to return to the beach for the sunset.

As the sun was setting, Gojo took you to the sea. The water was quite cool, but Gojo’s warmth kept you comfortable. Satoru refused to let go of your hand until you were up to your chest in the water. The sun had nearly set when the man pulled you towards him and gently kissed your lips. He felt you both needed it, but was still afraid you would push him away. Instead, you snuggled closer and returned the kiss with equal intensity.

The next morning, the four of you were sitting at breakfast. Your smiles were subtle, but Tsumiki noticed something had changed. Gojo was rambling, and you smiled at every word he said. Later, at the beach, you were all playing in the water. Satoru kept touching you, and you responded eagerly.

“Something has changed between them.” Miki said to her brother, as they relaxed on the deck chairs, watching you sit by the sea.

“What do you mean?” Megumi replied, frowning in confusion.

“Their smiles, their touches... they weren’t like they were before.” The girl said with confidence.

Fushiguro turned his gaze towards his parents and looked at them for a long time. Previously, you avoided unnecessary touching, but now you were sitting with your shoulders leaning against each other and your back relaxed, while Gojo’s hand was still holding onto your waist. Megumi watched this, not noticing how you and Gojo approached him.

“Would you like to try riding a banana-boat?” Satoru suggested.

“A banana?” Fushiguro was still lost in his thoughts, so he didn’t immediately understand what the guy was talking about.

“Or we could look for a kiwi or a watermelon!” Gojo said and laughed.

Megumi rolled his eyes at the joke, but you laughed loudly and put your hand on his shoulder. Miki looked at her brother pointedly, but he turned away, muttering something under his breath in displeasure. You noticed it quickly and took your hand away from Satoru, stopping your smile.

“Why don’t you go first, just the two of you, then Megs and I?” You said, raising your eyebrows and pointing at the boy.

Gojo immediately understood what was going on and took Tsumiki on the water attraction.

“Is everything okay?” You plopped down on the blanket next to Megumi and gently nudged him on the shoulder.

“You and Gojo are together now?” The boy deliberately emphasized the last word.

“I think so.” You realized it was pointless to hide it from him, so you decided to just admit it.

“I see.” Megumi tried to avoid eye contact with you.

“Is something wrong?” You placed your hand on Fushiguro’s shoulder.

“I just thought that... Gojo is not good enough for you.”

“Wow!” You even pulled away from Megumi and frowned. “It seemed to me that everyone should decide for themselves who is suitable for them and who is not. Besides, you know, sometimes you can’t control love. Your body reacts to a person physically, while your brain isn’t even aware of it.”

Megumi turned to you and saw a smile on your face. He could tell from the look in your eyes that you were partly in your thoughts and probably thinking about Gojo.

“Do you really love him?”

“I’ve known him for five years. During that time, he has been by my side 80% of the time and has always supported me. I think what I feel for him could be described as love. I don’t know what he feels, but I feel comfortable with him. In general, I am calm around you. You are like a family to me, which I have never had before.

Megumi went through a complex thought process in his head. After thinking for a while, he nodded to himself.

“Where is your banana-boat?”

The next morning, Megumi knocked on Gojo’s door. After a long wait, Satoru opened it, but he seemed annoyed and wanted to slam it in Megumi’s face. The man quickly left the room and closed the door firmly behind him.

“Has something happened?” Gojo asked, rubbing his eyes to wake himself up.

“Do you love her?” Fushiguro asked suddenly, taking Satoru by surprise.

“Yes, I have loved her since she came to Tokyo Jujutsu High.” Gojo answered.

He realized that he did not want to deny his feelings and confessed immediately.

“It’s good that you weren’t hesitant. But if she gets hurt because of you, I will kill you.” Megumi replied.

If Gojo had heard this from another nine-year-old boy, he might have laughed and patted him on the cheek. But looking at the serious expression on Fushiguro’s face, he didn’t move a muscle and simply nodded in agreement. The man knelt down in front of Megumi and placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Listen, Megumi, she is not going to suffer because of me or because of anything else. I promise you."

“What is it?” You mumbled sleepily, pulling Satoru back to bed.

“It’s just that... The staff wanted to check if we need any extra cleaning.”

You smiled through your sleep and hugged Gojo, pulling him closer to you.

[yandere-wishes]

Who are your fav authors on here, why and what are your fav fics from them?

Anon, I don't think you're aware of the beast you've just unleashed!

So strap in cause this is going to be long.

Right off the bat, we have, @thefudge. I'm trying so hard not to sound like a deranged fangirl right now. But trust me when I say that I am OBSESSED with every single thing they write! I have read their fics SO SO many times and It's impossible to pick a single favorite one. So here are my top 5

Waiting for the barbarians

Within you is everything I am

I won't be these clothes I burn

His little dead wife 

god complex

Honestly, guys go check out their work they have so many stories spanning countless fandoms. They're literally the ones that got me into Star Wars in the first place! @thefudge I SWEAR I'm not a crazy fangirl, I just really love your writing and works!!

@yandere-romanticaa goes without saying, I've been a HUGE fan of Ana's since literally forever. She was actually one of the Yandere blogs that inspired me to start writing on Tumblr. Again I can't pick just one of her works I love so here's a top 5 list

Wanna Be yours 

Yandere! William Moriarty 

Yandere! Miguel O'hara

Yandere! Nikolai #1 and #2

Yandere! Dazai comparisons

She writes for so many fandoms and updates very frequently. She's also such an amazing and fun person so hearing her stories is always a treat!! Love you lots bestie!!

@fragileheartbeats is another amazing author I love her frigid aesthetic and how it adds a layer of etherealness to all her stories. Her scenarios are magical and written in such a way they evoke such sweet feelings. Honestly reading her stories makes me feel like I'm wrapped in a blanket with hot chocolate watching as the snow silently falls outside. 

Cute little things that melt their hearts (jjk) 

White Swan (jjk) 

How it feels to be loved by them (jjk) 

First kiss (jjk) 

When they become dads (jjk) 

These five are my TOP FAV works from her they're honestly so well-written and utterly adorable!! Guys I'm not kidding go follow her, she is literally my wify!!

@irresistible-revolution

I'm new to their work. BUT "A Coffin Made of Glass" is so beautifully written. It's dead dove yet so utterly bewitching. It takes place in the space between famous Star Wars scenes and gives a more in-depth view of the character's actions and sentiments. 

@spacexseven, omg where do I even begin? Okay, so they just have such a natural way with words. Their stories flow SO smoothly it's honestly astonishing! They've written two Childe fics, "Broken Vows" and "Mandatory Obligations" that I'm wholly obsessed with. The dialogue they write also feels so natural and forthcoming, it's absolutely enticing!!

@rrairey another author whose work I've recently gotten into!! If you're a Sukuna fan then her blog is the place to go. 

Love

Sukuna vs Plushie (a literal BANGER!!)

Gojo vs Plushie

Trust

Bracelet

Seriously, go check out her work!! The way she writes dialogue between the characters and the reader is so utterly perfect. It makes you feel as if you are right there saying those exact words. The scenarios (although) fictional feel so real thanks to her wonderful writing style. 

@dear-yandere needs no introduction, she's a staple in the yandere community. Her stories always blend love and creepiness to a perfect extent. Can I take a moment to just appreciate how poetic and GORGEOUS all her stories are?? Like seriously!! "Almost god" is my favorite fanfic of ALL TIME!! And don't even get me started on "Cry for Me"!! 

This turned out long I don't think anyone was expecting an essay. To be honest I consume more fanfics than published books nowadays so I guess it's a given to have such a long list. 

[winchesterwild78]

The Ranch pt 4

Master List

Characters: Jensen-cowboy, single dad, x Reader-city girl moved to country to get away from it all

Warnings/Theme: Mention of death, a little angst, all the feels

A/N: A short little story featuring our favorite green eyed cowboy, not an actor in this, lives on a ranch in Texas, is a widower with 3 kids. Reader is a city girl who moves to the country to get away from her ex and start a new life. She takes a job on the ranch and things develop between her and the cowboy. Internal dialogue in italics.

So much love and thanks to @cheynovak for the idea. ♥️ All work is my own. No disrespect to anyone, this is a work of fiction. Real names are used, but again this is a work of fiction. Do not take my work

*This one is a bit fluffy, they tell the kids about their relationship*

Minors DNI 18+

A few hours later, you and Jensen were waking up, still in each other’s arms. You stretched and smiled as he kissed your forehead. “Hey, sweetheart. I guess we better get up before the kids get home.” “Yeah, we need to talk to them about us. I’d hate for them to catch us in bed before we get a chance to.”

The two of you got dressed and made your way downstairs. “So, Jens, how are we going to handle telling the kids? Is that something you want to talk to them about alone?” Jensen took your hands in his, “No, we do it together. I can start the conversation and we can go from there. The goal is to let them know that we have decided to be together, and to answer any questions they might have.” You nodded, “What do we do if they are upset? I don’t want them to think I’m trying to replace Dee.” “We will make sure they understand that. I’m sure they already do, but we can make sure they hear it from us. Hey, Y/N, we’ve got this. We will do this together. They love you, I love you, and I know you love them.” “I really do, Jensen. Like they are my own kids. I don’t want to do anything that would hurt them.” 

About 20 minutes later the kids came running in the front door. “Daddy! Miss Y/N! We missed you” They threw their arms around Jensen and you. You smiled and looked at Jensen. He mouthed, “See, they love you.” “How was your day, guys?” Jensen asked as he sat on the couch. The kids sat down and talked about their day. Apparently someone in Zep’s class said a “naughty word”, and when Jensen asked him what it was he told him he couldn’t say it because it was naughty. JJ spoke up and said “Zep it’s not naughty, the boy said butt.” Zep’s eyes went wide. You and Jensen laughed. 

Jensen looked at you and nodded. You knew he was ready to tell the kids. You took a deep breath to steady your nerves. “So guys, Y/N and I want to talk to you three about something. Why don’t you have a seat.” The kids sat down, JJ near Jensen, Arrow beside her and Zep beside you. “Well, you know Y/N’s been here as part of our family for a few months now, and she’s helped on the ranch, and in the house.” Zep spoke up, “She’s helped with homework too.” You smiled and nodded. “Yep, she’s helped with homework too. Well, she’s also helped with other things. She’s helping fix my sad heart, and your sad hearts. So, because she’s been helping me so much, my heart loves her.” 

JJ’s eyes went wide, she looked at Jensen and at you. “Daddy, are you going to marry her?” “No, JJ, not right now. We don’t know where this is going to lead, but I love her and she loves me. She loves you three too. So, she’s going to be my girlfriend.” 

Zep looked at you, “Miss Y/N, you love us?” “Yes baby, I do. Very much.” “Are you going to be my new mommy?” Arrow’s head spun and she looked at Zep, “No! She can’t be my mommy.” “Oh, honey, no, I’m not trying to replace your mommy. Dee will always be your mommy, I’m just your daddy’s girlfriend.” 

Jensen looked at you and he saw the fear in your eyes. “Guys, Y/N loves you three so much. Remember the pictures of mommy she gave you, she did that because she knew how much you love mommy and mommy loves you. Y/N wanted to help your hearts, because she knew how much you missed mommy.”

You took a deep, shaky breath and let it out. You looked at Jensen with concern in your eyes. He offered a soft smile. JJ and Zep looked between you and Jensen. JJ spoke first, “Daddy, I love her too. She makes me laugh and takes care of us.” She walked over and hugged you. Zep came over and hugged you too, “I love you too, Miss Y/N.” “I love you too, Zep, and JJ, so much.” You hugged them tightly.

Arrow sat silently with her head down. You looked at Jensen, he told JJ and Zep to go play so you two could talk to Arrow. When the two of them left, Jensen moved to sit beside her. You stayed where you were. 

Jensen turned and looked at his daughter, “Arrow, talk to me. What are you thinking?” Arrow fidgeted with her fingers and wouldn’t look up. The three of you sat in silence. It was breaking your heart, all the progress you two had made, and now you feel like it’s ruined. You knew the best thing for her right now, was to feel safe to express herself without fear of repercussions. 

You looked at Jensen and moved beside Arrow. “Arrow, sweetie, I want you to know you can tell us whatever you’re feeling. No matter what. You won’t get in trouble. How you feel is important to both of us and you are allowed to feel however you do. Nobody can tell you how you’re supposed to feel right now. Just because your brother and sister are okay with Daddy and I, doesn’t mean you have to be. We just want you to talk to us and help us understand how you’re feeling.” 

She slowly lifted her head and looked at you, “I can be mad and you won’t be mad at me?” “Yes! You are allowed to be mad.” She shook her head in understanding. Your heart ached for her. You knew how much she missed Dee and you’d give anything to take that pain away for her. 

She kept her head down, but slowly started to talk, “I am mad. I’m mad mommy left us. I thought she loved us. Why would she leave us if she loved us?” Your heart broke, and you looked up at Jensen. You could see his heartbreak too. Tears started to fall from her eyes. 

Instinctively you pulled her into your arms, “Oh baby, Mommy does love you, she didn’t want to leave. It was an accident, and sometimes people die because of an accident. That’s what happened to your Mom. After meeting you three, I know your mom would have never left you three by choice.” 

Arrow wrapped her arms around you and cried. “I just miss her so much, Miss Y/N.” You rubbed her back, “I know you do, baby.” You sat there holding her in your arms while she cried. Jensen had tears running down his face, his heart broke watching his baby girl cry. 

She calmed down and looked up at you, tears still in her eyes, “I love you, Miss Y/N. I just don’t want Mommy mad because I do. You help me like mommy did, and you make good food.” “Oh sweetie, I promise you mommy wouldn’t be mad at you. Mommy would want your heart to feel better. She loved you, all of you so much. When you love someone that much, you want their hearts to be okay. Your mom would be so happy knowing you’re okay and your heart is getting better. You will never forget your Mommy, I’ll make sure of that, but I hope the five of us can be a family too.”

Arrow looked up at you, “I thought we already were.” You smiled and hugged her tightly, “We are baby, we are.” “Daddy, do you still love Mommy?” Jensen’s breath caught in his throat, “Yes, baby. I do very much. I love her and will always love her.” “You love Miss Y/N, too?” “Yes I do. She’s been amazing for all of us. My heart is big enough to love Mommy, Her and all of you.” 

Arrow slipped out of your lap and climbed into Jensen’s. “Okay, Daddy. I’m glad Miss Y/N is your girlfriend.” He hugged her and chuckled, “Me too, baby girl.” Arrow climbed down and ran to join her brother and sister.

You and Jensen both let out the breath you were holding. Jensen took your hand, pulled up into his arms, “That went better than I thought it would.” “Yeah, I was worried, we just need to be careful and tread lightly around the kids. They say they are okay with us, but I don’t want to upset them if they see us kiss. Definitely no sleeping in each other’s rooms.” Jensen agreed. He smirked at you, “We will have to figure out some alone time. Maybe try out the hay loft again.” You laughed, “I’m sure Clif would be traumatized if he walked in on us again.” 

Later that evening you were in the kitchen making dinner. You heard the kids giggling in the other room. Jensen walked in the kitchen laughing. “What’s so funny, cowboy?” “The kids are plotting something.” He laughed. “I thought I heard mischievous giggles.” “What are they plotting?” “No idea, but whatever it is “it's a super secret”, they told me themselves.” You laughed and stirred dinner. 

About 20 minutes later you called for the kids to wash up and come to eat dinner. They walked in with their hands behind their backs grinning at you. Jensen looked at you and then at the kids. The three of them walked over to you and stood, “Miss Y/N, close your eyes, please.” You smiled and closed your eyes. “Hold out your hands.” You held out your hands and felt paper being placed in your hands. The kitchen filled with giggles, “Okay, open your eyes.” 

You opened your eyes and saw Jensen’s beautiful children looking at you with the biggest smiles on their faces. You looked at the papers in your hands and tears formed in your eyes. Each of the kids drew a picture for you. In the picture were you, all three of them, Jensen and Dee, and the word FAMILY, written at the top. 

You dropped to your knees and hugged all three of them. “These are beautiful, thank you guys. I’ll cherish these forever.” You showed Jensen and he smiled. “Okay, let’s eat guys, we don’t want the food to get cold.” You stood up, wiping your face and placing the pictures on the refrigerator. 

The rest of the evening went better than you thought. Dinner was spent answering questions about what a girlfriend and boyfriend do, is Daddy and you going to have any babies, which made Jensen choke on his drink, and if you were going to stay forever. 

After dinner, and all the questions, the five of you sat and watched a family movie. It was Friday, so Jensen let the kids stay up a little later than usual. Everyone decided to watch the new Little Mermaid movie. You helped Jensen put pillows and blankets on the floor for all of you to sit on and lounge on. Walking in the kitchen, you and JJ made popcorn, grabbed drinks and snacks for everyone. 

You all took your seats on the floor, Jensen was sitting on the other side of the floor, the kids were in between you two and you sat on the opposite side. The two of you would glance at each other and smile, then look at the kids. Your heart swelled. Even though you and Jensen weren’t married, this was your family. They were your family. 

By the end of the movie, the kids were yawing and you could tell they were not far from falling asleep. Jensen followed them upstairs to make sure they got ready for bed. You stayed downstairs and started to clean up. A few minutes later, you went upstairs to tell the kids goodnight. Stopping at JJ’s room first, you told her good night and she hugged you, Zeppelin was next, then you went to Arrow’s room. 

“Good night, Arrow.” You called from the door. She looked at you and leaped out of bed, throwing her arms around you, “Good night! Thank you for loving us, Miss Y/N. We used to have movie nights with Mommy. It was so fun. You’re going to make a good mommy one day.” Your eyes widened and you smiled at her. “Thank you, sweetie, now let’s get you in bed.” After tucking her in you left her room.

Jensen was standing in the hallway smiling at you. “Did you hear her, Jens?” He smiled and nodded, pulling you into his arms, “For the record, I agree with her. You’re going to make an incredible mother one day.” You smiled. “Thank you, Jensen.” 

He took your hand and led you to his bedroom. Once inside, he closed and locked the door. “What do you say we get some practice in?” He grinned at you. “Hmm, I don’t know. What would people say if I end up pregnant before marriage?” “They would say we had sex, lots of sex.” Jensen laughed. You playfully hit his chest. He cupped your face and placed a soft kiss on your lips, “I love you, Y/N. You are incredible and so great with my kids. I’m so thankful you took a chance on me, on us, and even more grateful you came back.” “I love you too, Jensen, you and your babies. I’d always come back to you, now and forever.” 

Part 5

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[franco-barbis-sweetness]

Guys, I was thinking about Franco and his life story and all of the things that probably happened to him when he was growing up and it genuinely just made me. Really sad ?? This dude wouldn't have been a monster if he didn't have to endure all of the things he did. He wasn't born that way, he was created :(

Like, just think about it. He had defects from birth that affected his appearance, which he was born sometime in the 1930's most likely, and I'm sure his appearance cast him out from society automatically. He was even disowned BY his own father for the way he looked.

His father apparently murdered his mother, and he must've had ENOUGH reason to believe it was his father who did it since he talks about it in his game dialogue. He may not have seen the body or anything but this probably caused some early childhood trauma straight off the bat. (The fact he had nobody to love or nuture him or read him bedtime stories makes me WEEP. He had nobody to be kind to him, to cook him breakfast, to tuck him in, to give him any love at all SOBBINGGGG)

His dad was literally the head of the Martino Crime family. So he grew up constantly surrounded by a life of crime. Blood, murder, violence, all while he was sooo young. All of those things are a horrific environment for a child, yet alone him having to watch his own FATHER being the ringleader of it all.

Salvatore was probably an avid and violent drunk, so I'm sure Franco was beat all of the time. He might have been exposed to some sort of SA from his father at some point, considering how absolutely horrid he was ??

Literally the only mother figures Franco had were his father's various lovers and wives. And all they ever did was neglect or humiliate him. Of course his mafia don father wouldn't attract polite or goodhearted women.

Franco probably grew up believing murder was something good, something to be proud of. He took his first life at 12 years old because he thought it was something that would make his father proud of him. With that being said, the only time that poor baby was ever embaced was when he KILLED somebody ????? And of course, because he got praise for murdering a man, he latched onto that bit of affection and positivity he'd never gotten before, and grew up further starting to do the only thing it seemed he was slightly liked for.

Since he started doing jobs for his dad as a debt collector and hitman, I'm sure he developed a complex through all of that, surrounded by his praise for violence and being unwillingly surrounded by it constantly. He became violent because that's what the world shaped him to become. Franco probably grew so used to the familiarity of killing that that's why he lost all meaning for the lives of others. And among the fact he was only ever outcasted in the first place by everybody ? I'm sure he felt some sort of revenge by reaping lives of the world that only ever did him wrong :( He probably viewed everybody as the same cold, heartless people he knew in his upbringing. He might've felt he had some sort of fucked up place in the Mafia, something he never had anywhere else.

He really wasn't ever taught... proper affection ? Innocent or sexual, all he ever knew was his father's behavior towards women, which wasn't good at all. When he snapped and murdered prostitutes, he might have seen it as a fresh start to something he ruined, behavior he may have learned from his father and the murder of his previous lovers. Violence was also VERY much a norm for him at this point in his life.

He was literally abused and humiliated so much he learned to get off on it sexually. The only thing Franco perceived of what sex was, was his erection being smashed painfully into a cold floor. He didn't know soft or gentle caresses. And because of his lack of a mother, he searches for a maternal figure within a sexual partner. Its like his line between a mother and a partner is blurred because those two relationships became one and the same in his mind. Its not that he views HIS actual mother as a sexual thing, I think its similar to like daddy issues ? How women tend to look for the care they never got from their father in older men they date. Its a complex, a symptom of neglect. I think franco desperately wants that motherly love he never got in the form of a lover, but he's definitely gone crazy along the way and it's become a deranged version of it from the things he was forced to endure :(

Franco's brain was also most likely SEVERELY damaged when his father beat him after the whole Angelina thing. I mean, have you seen his head in the game ??? I'm sure he looked relatively normal before that. I think it was his dad's doing that made his head all red and infected how it is. He was literally beat within the inch of his life, he almost died. I can only imagine he suffered from brain damage, head trauma, skull fractures, various infections, loss of hearing, sight, loss of teeth, etc. This probably made his messed up way of thinking even more messed up.

Then, he was exiled further by his father, physically this time, when he sent him off to Cuba. He killed even more people there and was practically on warfront. War is known to cause PTSD and stuff and other mental illnesses for a lot of people that unfortunately have to go through it. So even though Franco was already mentally damaged beyond any repair, he went through front line raids against revolutionary forces.

Then, yk, Murkoff got a hold of him eventually and I'm sure they did their fair share of whatever experiments they did on him. Placing him in the trials, putting his father's name on signs, and even naming the boat in his map after Angelina. It's like they made him relive all of his worst memories in a large box.

Anyhow, those are my Franco rambles. I feel like he's genuinely such a complex character that endured so much and it's just like. He's fucked up for a reason. It's not an excuse for the things he did in the game, but its a society vs. man thing with him. He had such a horrible life and a horrendous upbringing and I can't even imagine the agony his life was. Just thinking about the things he was subjected to and the way his mind was shaped so early on is so heartbreaking. Makes me wish I could've been there for baby Franco, if he had the proper love he never would've turned out the way he had 🙁 Red barrels really does have a way of making me feel bad for all of their characters. Most of them are just so unbelievably tragic.

[tessabennet]

Hello my friends

So. It's been five years, give or take. There was a worldwide pandemic, I got two and a half-ish degrees, I got diagnosed with epilepsy, I lost my dad and my grandpa, I worked various jobs, international politics have been nothing short of awful for a long time now... Yeah. It's been stressful, the whole time I was writing What I'm Looking For.

And in all this time, in between all of that, working on this massive project has been a comfort that I can't even begin to describe. This was something I could dive into when I was at my worst, in all this time, even when it felt like this series was the only thing that I was doing well. It was something that kept me going and that I'm proud of having finished.

Having said this much, I don't want to make some stupid kind of speech about being done with posting now. For most people, this is probably not as big a deal as it is for me. But I totally will make this a speech, because I have some things to say that mean too much to me to leave them unsaid.

You may already know that I first started writing These City Walls as an excercise to practice writing dialogue. At the time, a lot of what I did came from a place of frustration, with myself and especially with the MCU. But the more I worked on it, the more I realised that this fanfic stuff wasn't going to be a one-time thing, and I'm glad I decided to make this a longer series. And it kept getting longer, the more I thought about, outlined, and finally wrote it.

And throughout this whole journey, there were people that I want to mention, now that we're at the end of it. Starting with girlbookwrm, whose Hundred Year Playlist was the initial inspiration for huge chunks of this series (please go read it, it'samazing). And then, I have to mention @jesuschristtakethewheel, who was my beta reader for the first two parts of the series, and who encouraged me to start publishing it in the first place. I also have to say a huge thank you to @the-littlefangirl, who I've only gotten to know because of this series, who occasionally served as my test audience, and who, I can honestly say, is one of my best friends today.

There's a lot more people I want to thank, and those are my amazing, incredible, wonderful, and lovely regular commenters. You guys have been a rock for me to hold on to for so long. There's @haluton with their excited (and at times incoherent) screaming at me, there's @numberonestuckyshipper with her never-ending kindness to me and my writing, there's @smlmsworld who never gets tired of recommending my work, there's @hipsterdiva who approaches my fanfic like it's an actual piece of literature that deserves analysing, there's @mythicalmxyhem who's been with my series from so early on, and there's @radicalpeachie who made amazing fanart for me. I only know a lot of people here because this fic made me part of the stucky community. And then on AO3, there's PanamaRed, Jo_Dee, kawherp, saturns_moons, SaphDragon494, helloilovefanfiction, TylOcephale, AlwaysAkin, shakleton2, dxzei, Shinigami24, thisisalright, theearthisntflatatall, kingandlionheart, crazyjane, machka, and many, many more that I'm really, really scared of forgetting here. If you guys are here on tumblr, please let me know so I can follow you. And to anyone else reading this: if somehow you aren't on this list but feel like you should be, I agree that you should and apologise. Believe me, I recognised your name in my emails every time and I love you very, very much!

I can never thank you guys enough for the praise and support I've gotten from you over the years. Every single comment still means the world to me, and I'll no doubt always go back to them when I'm feeling bad or need a boost in confidenc. My life will definitely change now that I probably won't wake up to all those lovely comments as often anymore.

This is exactly why I'll be selfish and ask anyone who might still read or reread the series to consider leaving more comments and kudos. Or if you want to, feel free to create fanart and link it to the fic. Consider this my blanket statement: you can translate it, podfic it (you'll be my hero if you do that actually), make playlists, write your own spin-off based on it - just please link it to the series and let me know so I can share it too. It would mean the world to me if you don't let this fic die just yet.

(Also, just as a shot in the dark: In case you know someone who works at Disney or Marvel or happens to be a talent scout for publishers, please recommend me and my writing to them. That would be the cooles possible thing to come out of all this.)

In the meantime, I'll keep writing. I've been working more on original stuff this whole year, and if I ever publish a "real" book, I'll be sure to let you know. And more recently I've also been toying with some ideas for possible spin-off stories in the What I'm Looking For universe, so who knows? Whatever they could be, those fics probably wouldn't me stucky-centric. But maybe I'll write and publish them at some point - you never know.

For now, this is it anyway. And I don't want to be didactic or patronizing about this in any way. It's just, if there's even one thing you can take away from my version of this story and these characters, I hope it's that there's nuance in the world. Perspective matters, empathy matters, and so does understanding. And with that in mind, I think there's hope. I have to believe that, no matter how dark and dire the world seems at times. Steve and Bucky managed to go back to Brooklyn. We'll be fine too.

So yes, for now this is it. And for a while now I've been thinking about how to say goodbye to this fic. I still don't know. I'm not sure I want to. And I definitely don't want to say goodbye to all the lovely people I got to know, all the amazing friends I made because of it. And if you want to, you can come talk to me whenever you like, I really mean that. My asks are open and you can dm me any time. You guys have been the greatest audience I could've asked for. I wasn't expecting anything when I started posting - never could I have imagined that one day my stupid writing exercise would mean so much to some people. I love you all, each and every one. I'll miss you.

And finally, now that I'm all emotional about this anyway, I'll say this last thing: next year's gonna be different, but that doesn't mean it can't be a good year. I hope it will be, for all of us. Please stick around. I love you so much, and you mean the world to me. So - goodbye, guys. And, from all my heart: Happy New Year 💜

[nottsangel]

hi, love!! how are you? i had a hectic day... i've been with my dad at the hospital and i had to wait A LOT. he's good now tho, so it was worth it ig

i read your new girl au snippet and jsidbidhx they're such jerks omg!!!! 😤😤 as much as their words would have angered me if i was in her shoes, seeing them from outside made me chuckle 🤣🤣 especially enzo and his "she doesn't just fuck guys from outside these walls" and "please kill mattheo first, ma'am." (arina and her fabulous dialogue>>)

and alsoo, hypothetically speaking, which one would bag reader first? and would he boast about it to the other two or keep it a secret? - 🍯 anon

omg baby !!! i hope everything’s okay and that you’re both doing good now 🥺

i HATE them but i need them…. and hmm that’s a difficult question !! i think it really depends on the circumstances. but if i had to pick i’d maybe say theo because he’s probably the least annoying out of the three lmao (although still very annoying) and yes each one of them would for sure boast about it! there’s just too much competition between those three, they won’t be able to keep their mouth shut

[n3ptoonz]

'Permission'

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/F!Reader

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick

Warnings/tags: Smut; Explicit, reader is a captain, from virginia, and an admiral's daughter, power dynamic, use of ma'am/captain, rough sx, reader's call sign is "raptor", dialogue heavy, thigh fucking, alternating between names and call signs on purpose

Word count: 3.2k+

Two months ago you were going through a long transfer process. It only took forever for you to finally get the call to be set at one specific station. One would think that being the kid of an admiral would make the process quicker but they're wrong. Apparently the scheduling kept moving around and there was some big mission going on overseas on the west coast, you were supposed to be Captain of that mission but they had to quickly call in someone far more experienced than you. Must have been dire, you think to yourself.

In retrospect, it was worth it because now you were being introduced to the Dagger squad by the very man your dad constantly droned on about even though they didn't even work for the same station. It's pretty funny to you that word travels fast even if it is coast to coast. You loved Virginia, but damn you could use some new scenery.

Let's back up a little bit, this isn't really your first introduction to the Dagger squad. When you first arrived to San Diego a few days prior you had heard about a bar that the aviators go to hang out and relax before missions. Though you didn't anticipate this beaming heat, already forgetting where you were; feeling a little overdressed in your leather jacket and jeans, the heat in the bar didn't make it any better. At least you had on a plain white tee underneath.

"You're new." you hear a man say behind you at the bar. You placed your beer down and swiveled the stool you were sitting on to face him in curiosity. He was already smiling at you with some unbelievably white teeth. From his face alone he looked like a cocky guy that thinks he could get any woman to swoon over that grin.

You almost did. Almost

"You're observant." you reply, sounding a little drier than you intended. You reached out your hand to shake his and said your name to clear the air a bit. He chuckles to himself and introduces himself too with a firm handshake. Jake Seresin.

"I meant more to this city. You don't look like a Cali native. I get that feeling since I'm also not. Let me guess..." he squints at you before huffing and folding his arms dramatically, bringing a finger up to his chin. "East coast."

"Impressive." you nodded, "What gave it away?"

"Well, It's 5 in the afternoon on the hottest day of the week and you're wearing a leather jacket with jeans." he said, taking a swig. "When you live here long enough you track things like this to avoid the inevitable heatstroke."

"Inevitable?" you inquired.

"Yeah, I mean it just gets so hot that ya just wanna take your clothes off. Not my rules." he puts his hands up on feigned defense, and in your peripheral vision you spot another guy walking up behind him as he peers over his should.

"Is this man bothering you, ma'am?" he says with a stern look but it was quite obvious he's hiding a smile--if you didn't blink, you could see his mustache twitch. You lightly chuckle at Jake's expression dropping at the guy's presence before waving it off dismissively.

"We were just having a chat."

"Yeah, Bradshaw. Why don't you go over there and feel like you can win at something for once?" Jake says turning to him and pointing at the pool table, flashing a very fake flashy smile at him. When you looked over you saw a lot more people over there joking around and getting frustrated over pool.

Bradshaw, huh.

The man poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue at Jake before visibly looking like he's decided against getting into it with him. You had a feeling it was because you were watching. He turned to you and pushed past Jake to do a playful bow, his forearm meeting his torso before lowering his head.

"Bradley Bradshaw at your service." he chimes and looks up at you with a cheeky smile before standing to his full height. You were about to say something when the nice bartender lady, Penny, leaned on the bar counter next to you and told them to scram. Both looking like scolded kids, they went to head off when Bradley looked over his shoulder to wink with a smile and walking off. You swiveled your stool back towards her with a smile in acknowledgment.

"Aviators." she mused before sighing and patting your hand twice, heading back over to the waiting customers.

-

"This is your Captain for this mission. She is an esteemed officer with a hell of a reputation to uphold and credentials to showcase. She is the perfect fit for this mission since she specializes in communications from the ground, as this mission has much to do with which 4 pilots can stop these three underground plants from exploding. Her call sign is 'Raptor.'" Pete says with a faint smile, almost like a proud dad before stepping back and offering you the podium to give more details.

As you stepped up you got a good view of everyone's expression looking vastly different for different reasons. Hangman pinched his nose before sighing and looking up at you, he couldn't believe he didn't ask who you were that day...which was literally yesterday. Rooster tried to keep that same serious expression again, but damn it he couldn't be anymore obvious he wanted to laugh. The others shared glances with each other and back at the two. They must've caught hell on the way back to pool.

"Thank you, Maverick." you nodded towards him. "I have heard a lot about you guys, but we are going to need just four people in the air; two planes." you stated and turned to pull up a map on the screen behind you. "As mentioned before there are three plants close to this city, but not so close that flying over it would disturb it. The only thing that would, would be the actual explosion. From the collected data, it has a radius of 4 klicks in every direction."

"Captain?"

You turned your head to see Rooster with his index finger up after stating your title.

"Lieutenant." you ackowledged him and gestured for him to continue. After reading their files you know already know all there is to know, including call signs. But he didn't call you Raptor.

"How will you determine who goes in the air? Since this requires four pilots at most-"

"I was getting to that." you said. Your expression couldn't get any more flat if you wanted to. It wasn't on purpose, you just do hate being interrupted. Especially during a debriefing.

"Apologies, Captain." he cleared his throat and adjusted in his seat.

You gave a small nod before going over the rest in complete detail so there was no confusion. You did accept a few more questions, but once that was over they were dismissed and headed towards the planes. Fixing your stack of papers you just caught Rooster looking at you again at the very last second over his shoulder. Although you did want to see what this was about before anything else continued without knowing what was going on.

"Rooster." you called out to him before he left out the door. Stopping in his tracks he shamelessly watched you walk over to him. The closer you got he tensed up and stood there at attention.

"Am I going to be a distraction to you?"

"...Permission to speak freely?" he asked with a hint of mischief in his voice. So much for stern expressions.

"Granted."

"Absolutely." he stated. He took a pause and saw you didn't find that very funny, blank stare and all. "Um, no. No distractions here, ma'am. Uh, Captain...Raptor, ma'am." he cleared his throat and sniffed, still looking away from you.

"Are you sure? Because if you're not fit for this mission-"

"No distractions here, ma'am."

You nodded and patted his shoulder. "Good." you say and walk past him. "As you were." you called out, hearing him sigh from inside the room.

-

Two, long hours of frustration, bickering between the pilots, and losing count of whoever got how many push ups later, you came outside to hand out waters. Even if you were slightly annoyed you still had to build trust with this new squad you've been assigned to. It was Hangman, Bob, Coyote, and Rooster doing their last 35 push ups as the others drearily went back inside for some cold air and to feel their limbs again.

"15 more to go, boys." you said cradling the i've cold water bottles in your arms. In all honesty they wanted to collapse when it was over, but now that a woman has arrived that was out of the question. They all just slowly stood up in collective pained grunts and took the water, Bob being the only one that said thanks before downing it.

You had to admit... watching Rooster's fitted black shirt stretch against his tanned, sweat-glistened biceps during and after those push ups played in loop at the forefront of your brain from the time you came out here to now. The sheer determination on his face to get that shit over with...hm.

Were you really going to risk your career for a tall, hot, sun kissed man that could probably be wanting to sleep with you so he can get an advantage? Absolutely no-

"Do you like pizza?" Rooster's voice--though a bit out of breath--cut through your thoughts like a freshly sharpened knife.

"From time to time. Why?"

He shifts his movements before glancing at the entrance, seeing the other pilots mocking him in the door.

"Perhaps when this week is over-"

"Are you about to ask me out on a date?"

He nods slightly, "Maybe I am."

"Lieutenant."

He took a pause and quirked his head with a small smile. "Yes, I am."

"Bold." you said. "Real bold." you crossed your arms and turned to the door, seeing the others scrambling to get back inside. Heading towards the door you could almost feel him about to say something,

"My office. Two hours."

"You have an office?" he asked with that same damn cheeky smile present in his words, you didn't even need to turn around.

"Three hours."

"Okay, okay, I'm so-" he groaned in frustration. Bad and good. You used your title to your advantage and he just found that so-

-

"Hot." he muttered under his breath.

"I'm sorry?" you leaned forward in your chair onto your file-cluttered desk.

He opened and closed his mouth trying to recollect the conversation. "Sorry, what was the question?"

"I asked you, besides yourself, who you think could be fit for this mission." you cocked your head in confusion. "Are you distracted, Rooster?"

"No, ma'am."

"Then answer the question."

"Can't really say. It's a good amount of us who have exceptional abilities. And Hangman." he said. One of the few times he sounded dead ass serious.

"But if you had to pick..." you pressed. You were going to take his words with a grain of salt. This was a test. Over the last three hours you did the same thing with everybody else and ordered them not to tell anybody.

"If I had to pick," he mused, "Besides me, Phoenix, Bob, Payback, Fanboy."

"Hm, okay, thank you." you immediately started filling in notes again.

"Um," he muttered, "You never gave me an answer earlier," you looked up at him, "ma'am."

You placed your pen down, standing up from your chair and rounding the desk until you were standing in front of him.

"I have been here for all about a week and you are already trying to make moves on me. I could write you up."

"Will you," he says now looking at you. "Captain?"

The sound of his voice uttering your rank at such a register with intent and a taste of rasp made your jaw clench.

"Should I?" you dared.

"I think you would've already." he challenged.

You hum at that sentiment and head back to your chair. "Yes." you say while writing notes again.

"Sorry?"

"I like pizza and I will go on a date with you." you said as you kept writing. "Do not think this gives you any advantages over anyone else. Because it surely will not."

"If you have a bad time." he says, but his smirk quickly falling upon seeing your unamused expression once again.

"No adavantages, noted."

-

The date went well. It was a nice, fun evening of drinking, eating, dancing, flirting, Bradley occastionally saying "Ma'am" just to get your reaction. The way you kept playfully scolding him when he would act all proper around you ran circles around his mind. Your pencil khaki skirt that was just above the knees bunching up around your thighs with every movement. He wanted to get you out of here as quick as possible.

But at the end of the day, he is still a gentleman. Even if he is strong enough to pick you up against the closest wall and have his way with you.

He offered to take you home since he picked you up from the base. The ride back was relatively quiet but no signs of awkwardness. Just soft jazz buzzing quietly on the radio.

Upon arrival he decided against walking you to your door just in case and not cross any boundaries. You were still his superior, and who was he to think he could sleep with you? He presumes you had a good time but that is it. These things take time.

You thanked him for a nice outing and taking you home. Approaching your door you looked over your shoulder as you unlocked it, turning to face forward before slowly walking in and leaving the door open.

Bradley felt his heart leap out of his chest. Is this really happening? You're...letting him in?

In such a short span of time you could hear him parking and nearly teleport to your door. And as soon as you heard it close, he could not get one word in once your lips locked with his. His hands fell right to your hips to pull you closer. Half of him was completely caught off guard, but the other was making that blood flow right to his pants.

Panting softly as he backed away, he glided his hands down your hips and stopped right at the small of your back.

"Permission to speak freely." he said breathlessly. You'd think he ran a mile.

"Denied." you said in a sing-songy, whispery tone against his lips. His lips pulled into a smirk as he did that tongue-in-cheek gesture again.

"Permission to act freely?" his fingers wandered to the hem of your skirt. Your eyes darted to from his lips to his eyes the second you felt his fingers brushing against your bare thigh.

"...Granted." was the only word he needed to hear to pin you to the closest wall, and slide it up just under your ass. You were facing the wall with your hands planted to keep balance. The warmth of his breath and palms gripping and groping you freely made your knees slightly buckle.

"I won't utter a word until you give me the say-so." he whispered against your ear. You could hear his zipper coming undone and shuffling sounds until feeling his warm, throbbing dick in between your thighs. You both inhaled sharply at this. He pulled at the flesh of your upper thighs for easier access and start thrusting himself against your already soaked underwear.

There was something about not fully seeing your naked body but the lewd image of him sliding between your thighs that could make a grown man cry. It didn't help that your shaky sighs and very slight rocking of your hips were becoming more obvious by the second.

His hands went from your hips to his arms wrapping around your waist, back flush to his chest. He was right, he has not uttered a single word this whole time. Which was only like seven minutes but felt like thirty. He only grunted and sighed as he couldn't take his hands off of you, but he needed more. There was a part of you that did want to see if he could cum like this though. The friction was coated in your own fluids of arousal, and you wondered what his cum would look like on your thighs.

You swear for a split second you could hear him whine against your neck. He held you tighter and moments later you felt a warm liquid trickling down your thighs when his hips met yours. His breathed hitched the second he pulled back. Now it was your turn to be cut off by a kiss. He lightly tapped under your thigh so you could straddle him. Once you were hoisted up into his arms your brain was void of all that superior crap, you just needed him to be inside of you within the next five seconds.

"You can speak freely now," your voice just above a whisper and cupping his jaw, "Lieutenant."

"Wall or chair?" he asked, his tone much more cocky now since you used his rank.

"I gave you permission to act freely, didn't I?"

As if you hadn't said anything but a word, your back met the comfort of the soft living chair next to the couch. After swiftly sliding your underwear off he wasted no time slamming into you and bottoming out, eleciting a choked out and surprised gasp from you.

Both your legs were slung over his shoulder as he went to town and his arms caged you in when his hands gripped both arm chairs. He huffed with every stroke and tried to keep his composure, but you were so wet and nearly slippery he could die smiling.

One glance at your pleasure-contorted face made his movements stutter. You bit your fist to stop yourself from letting the entire neighborhood know what was going on at exactly midnight.

"You close?" his hoarse voice woke you from whatever haze you were falling under. You nodded lazily and whined, now gripping the pillow behind you.

"Are you?" you asked and moved one of your legs to his other shoulder so he could come closer to you.

"Not without your permission." he whispered against your lips, stilling his movements just enough to kiss your g spot. You cursed at the feeling and caressed his cheekbone.

"We will cum together." you said with a kiss, quickly broken when he somehow fucked into you deeper than before. Not even five pumps in you both reached climax. Bradley pulled out just time and made sure to lift your shirt and make a mess on your stomach. You on the other hand were trembling for a few moments before you felt your muscles relax finally.

He carefully peeled himself off of you and helped you stand up, holding your hips for support.

"You sure I won't get an advantages after all this?" he playfully asked. Almost instant teasing regret hits him the second the question comes out his mouth.

"...Denied."

[panoffrying]

My Dr. Sozonius LORE Headcanons

✨Warning this is a bit long✨

Sozo is a character that has lived for a very long time. Whatever that mushroom was on their head not only influenced Sozo but kept them immortal. We know really nothing bout Sozos past so I made some headcanons for silly fun and for me to visualize who Sozo was and what his life may have looked like. I want to do my best to keep this as game accurate as possible, so there will be quotes from the game. The quotes are not at all in order! I kinda just bring up random Sozo quotes as I go. Also I apologize if this doesn't make sense or if I ramble (I get excited about certain topics) 

thank you so much @7moonbird for going over and editing this for me, Love ya Pookie!

And so we start:

Sozonius was born in the days of the old faith. He was present the day the Bishops declared the genocide of the lambs and he actually played a big part in assisting the lambs survival. However, he almost got caught and had to stop helping the lambs to keep his family safe. He's never seen any of the bishops(maybe) but his village was part of Darkwood and therefore under Bishop Leshy’s ruling.

VILLAGE 

Sozonius village was mostly a colony of Carpenter Ants, there were a few other species living there too but it was mostly Carpenter Ants. I imagine there are different races of ants depending on the region they’re in; so there could be fire ants, pharaoh ants, and more! Most ants get along nicely and work together but sometimes other races of ants can be more temperamental and cause conflict between colonies. Carpenter ants are a more calm type of ants, they aren't aggressive but they are incredibly strong. Carpenters ants are known to live in trees; they hollow out trees to make their homes and they like to stay off the ground as much as possible in case of floods and other dangers.

In the colony they had their ruler, the “Queen,” who looked over the village and did queenly business (not gonna go too deep into it). Everyone had many different jobs, ants are hard workers and very strong. They made marvelous structures, farmed a lot of crops, and knew how to work together when there was a threat. Sozo’s village was one that many others would try making deals/trades with. I would talk more about his village but that's not why y’all are here lol. 

Sozonius was a fellow damn near everyone in the village knew. He loved his work and he loved to talk about it to anyone that expressed that they wanted to listen. He was that guy that you could get stuck in a conversation with and struggle to end it. He liked to ramble about his work and kids. Other than that though he never really started conversations with others, he would keep to himself unless someone interacted with him.

And I could definitely see him having a science rival but nothing too bad lol.

FAMILY

“Where am I…? Where is… my family…?”  are the words Sozo says when he turns back into Dr. Sozonius. I like to think he had a wife and two children. They didn’t have the best marriage but they made it work out for their two sons. His wife was a bit stubborn and very honest. She would say things before thinking which did cause issues, but Sozonius let it slide because he loved her so much and wanted a happy family for his sons. 

Sozonius was a very funny dude. He made dad jokes all the damn time, his family would pretend to hate the jokes but in reality they did love them. 

Sozo Dialogue “Now all Sozo can think about is mushrooms, mushrooms, MUSHROOMS… They don’t leave mush-room for anything else! Ha!”

(Also, this next idea is inspired off of @kuphulwho headcanons for Sozo. I loved her ideas and I recommend y'all look at her headcanons too!) Aside from Sozonius being a mycologist he had a side hobby of art! He wasn't the best artist, but he was really talented with sketching plants/fungi, he liked to make art of anything that interested him. He most likely wrote an educational picture book about Fungi, there's probably an old copy of it somewhere.

This art hobby caught the interest of his two sons, and they also started to pursue art. Sozonius would take his free time teaching his sons how to draw plants and such. Sozonius would hang his kids' art everywhere in their house, it was like walking into an art museum haha.

JOB

Sozonius studied mycology which means he studied fungi. Sozonius knew fungi could benefit his society and he wanted to help educate others about the importance of fungi. Soon he learned enough of a new discovery of mushroom people, neither plant nor animal…Sozonius then made the decision to go on a solo mission to study the Mushroomo people.

THE MUSHROOMOS 

Dr. Sozonius Dialogue “My name is Dr. Sozonius. I was researching the Mushroomos that live in Spore Grotto… strange creatures, Neither animal nor plant…” 

Sozonius went to Spore Grotto and at first, he studied the Mushroomo people from a distance setting up a campsite near the Mushroomo Village. When the Mushroomo people discovered Sozonius they welcomed him into their home, cheerful happy little things. Sozonius was given the chance to learn more about these strange creatures up close! How could he say no? Sozonius was welcomed into Spore Grotto and was treated like a god. 

Sozonius asked the Mushroomos many questions, but getting any actual answers from them was difficult. The Mushroomos treated Sozonius like he was their most special guest, they danced and sang for Sozonius. They would mimic Sozonius and follow him around, making sure to do anything he asked of them. There would be many times when the Mushroomos would offer to feed Sozonius menticide mushrooms but Sozonius knew a lot about fungi and declined their offers. However, there seemed to be a special Ritual the Mushroomos took part in… 

Sozonius had been in Spore Grotto for many weeks now, it was time for him to leave, he had studied enough and was ready to return home but the Mushroomos were surprisingly sad when he announced this. They wanted to show Sozonius a sacred ritual to them before he left, he wasn't aware of the menticide mushrooms being part of it…

Dr. Sozonius Dialogue “They gave me Menticide Mushrooms, and then… that’s the last thing I remember…”

After Sozonius was tricked into eating menticide mushrooms and also gave Sozonius a crown, a crown that would grow into Sozoniuss mind, he shall be the Mushroomos leader… And the new Sozo was made. (literally just think of Ice Age 2 when the lil sloths take Sid to be their fire king, however they don't sacrifice him)

The mushroom on Sozos head is very powerful, it makes me wonder what it is exactly, it gives the person wearing it immortality, but also causes the user to go insane (don't forget that Sozo is also being fed menticide mushrooms) the mushroom crown kinda reminds me of Chemachs crown. It seems to have a mind of its own and a face. I feel like the Mushroomos for days straight made sure to give Sozo a diet of only menticide mushrooms to make him forget everything and to possibly power the mushroom crown. They would constantly tell Sozo that his mind would be open and free, that it would make him feel better, and Sozo being under the influence of the mushroom listened to them.

A Mushroomo Dialogue "Once you taste the Menticide Mushroom your mind will be opened." 

As the years went by so did all the sanity Sozonius had left, but in some moments Sozonius seems to still be aware but not all there. 

Sozo Dialogue “Sozo had friends... Followers... family... now Sozo has mushrooms..."

Sozo over time seems to start to dislike his followers and call them liars. He even becomes quite cruel to his followers. Yet he also mentions that he trusts the lamb and wants the lamb to protect him from his followers which makes me believe that Sozonius is somehow a little aware and fighting against the mushroom crown’s influence. He is mad at the Mushroomos for lying to him, tricking him, making him into who he is now.

 Sozo Dialogue  “No need to thanks Sozo. Build it at your Cult then come back to me. Sozo shall grant you one last gift. Sozo is always fair. Always repays this debts. Not like those LIARS out there."

"You did it! Now I know I can trust you... not like those nasty liars outside. They are always watching, always listening! Here take this. You are Sozo's best friend, you are Sozo's only friend."

"Sozo can trust you now, Sozo will pledge himself to you! You will protect me from those liars outside and bring Sozo mushrooms!"

(Also a side note that my gf brought to my attention last second lol! Apparently parasitic mushrooms rely on insects to spread. That is probably why they tricked Sozonius into staying and eating menticide mushrooms. Maybe it's been that long since they've seen an insect)

SOZOS IMPRISONMENT

So, this next little headcanon of mine is an interesting one and might be confusing to explain. Was Sozonius imprisoned within his own mind while under the control of the mushroom crown? If he was, I can see him being stuck in a sort of loop, imagining his family and friends. Think like Mabel's Bubble from ‘Gravity Falls’ weirdmageddon. Sozonius is trapped in a mental bubble, stuck in a false reality as the now mushroom-infected Sozo takes over his body and actions. 

In Sozonius’s mental bubble he is in a place where trees are big, tall mushrooms and flowers are mushrooms, everywhere he turns its mushrooms. He knows something is wrong, everything is too strange, everyone he loves is there with him but is it real? It feels like he's living in a dream. Sozonius proceeds to talk to his friends and family as if they are actually there in which I noticed that Sozo will talk to the menticide mushrooms as if they are actual people.

Sozo Dialogue “Precious, perfect little mushrooms, Sozo is here now, Sozo will always be here…”

”Sozo is busy now… Sozo must commune with the ‘shrooms.”

As time passes more mushrooms grow in his mind prison, and they keep growing and growing until they start to grow on the people he loves. He knows something is happening, he's going mad, and he starts to search for an exit, he needs to escape this false reality that the mushroom crown has created for him. 

He starts fighting the mushroom crown’s hold on him which causes him to regain some awareness. This is when a part of him realizes he’s been tricked, and he starts refusing everything the Mushroomos give him and becomes cruel to them. However, the lambs have never done him wrong before and the lamb (from the cult) begins to be the only person he can trust. At least until it becomes too much and well… we know Sozo’s fate.

SOZO’S REVIVAL 

So Sozo doesn't get resurrected until all the bishops become mortal (at least in my playthrough)(I might change this to he was part of the cult before the bishops I’m not sure). So all the bishop siblings are in the cult and learning the ways of mortal stuff and Sozo appears around the same time, still the crazy Sozo we know and love. However, he’s still very addicted to the menticide mushrooms and both the Lamb and night workers have found Sozo digging through the mushroom crops like a lil racoon.

Based on the game, Sozo likes to run around the cult and do his own thing; he often looks very spaced out but the moment someone talks to him he starts spitting nonsense before yelling at them to go away. The only people Sozo will talk to are people that give Sozo what he wants, which is menticide mushrooms! If you do that for him he will talk your ear off with nonsense, in conversations with him he will often talk about his followers, them being liars and disgusting little creatures. One day though Sozo’s personality seems to change? He starts to tell the lamb,

 “Sozo was just here, all alone, thinking about mushrooms... Uh, Sozo means Sozo's little Mushroomo followers!”

”Yes,, they must be so lost without Sozo. They love Sozo! Everyone loves Sozo - especially Lamb!”

“Without their great and beloved Sozo, Mushroomos must be so scared... YOU! You must save them! Save them and bring them to Sozo.”

”They will be trapped in Anura. They are always getting captured when they don't have their great Sozo to protect them. Rescue them and bring them to me.”

But when you bring the followers to Sozo he ends up eating them. At first glance you can assume it's just his addiction, in which it most certainly could be! He sees a big mushroom and he's like oooo~ delicious but there's also a possibility of this being Dr. Sozonius’s anger coming out. The whole fighting against the mushroom crown’s influence and realization that he’s been tricked. Maybe a mix of his addiction and anger for what they did to him? I’m not too sure if Sozo eating the Mushroomos was a problem before he joined the cult.

Of course, this addiction must be stopped so the lamb decides enough is enough and refuses to get more Mushroomos. This causes Sozo to dissent and, with little choice, the Lamb has to put him in rehab. I imagine it would’ve been a struggle getting Sozo to the prison without the Red Crown’s help. With the power of an ant that is Sozo’s size it's a miracle he didnt break that pillory while he was in it. Sozo just stayed silent and didn't fight; the person he had put his trust and hope in has imprisoned him. Sozo is a bit depressed at that moment. 

After Sozo has been re-educated, released, and cured of his addiction the mushroom crown finally falls off his head. Which, like I said before, makes me wonder, was it being powered by the menticide mushrooms Sozo has been eating or is it something else?

But Dr. Sozonius talks about some stuff before saying,

Dr. Sozonius Dialogue “I can’t help but feel that I have you to thank for… something. You have my loyalty, I will remain here and serve you. Please, take this!”

Sozonius was ready to live his life rather than reunite with his family in the afterlife. He wasn't expecting to be resurrected after dying in the cult from old age. But Sozonius gave the lamb their loyalty and promised to stay in the cult and serve them. The Lamb had been so kind as to give Sozonius an immortality necklace, the Lamb didn’t want Sozonius to go yet… and Sozo’s heart was too kind and soft. He will have to wait a bit longer to return home to his family, but maybe some good things will come out of staying longer~

Also! Who do we think Sozo was talking to? 

A Mushroomo Dialogue "Who is Sozo talking to when he whispers in the dark...?"

Is he talking to himself? The mushrooms? Or the Fox?