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[nanamis-angel]

𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐭 ♡︎

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ৹ you and megumi have been dating for nine months. you're happy. he's happy. you're perfect for each other. the only issue? he craves affection and he's not sure how to ask for it.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ৹ megumi x fem!reader, shy megumi, fluff, very very slight angst, cuddling, yuji and nobara mention (they share one braincell).

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ৹ 1.4k

𝐚/𝐧 ৹ sorry I haven't written in a while, i'm currently on vacation and haven't been writing. this was in my drafts so I figured I'd post it. I'll be back soon with some more. I hope you enjoy! hearts divider by @/s-h-o-w-y

You and Megumi had been dating for quite a while now. Just two weeks ago, you had your nine-month anniversary together and you were the happiest you had ever been.

The relationship was very low-key. PDA was almost non-existent—the most he’d ever do in public was hold your hand and even then, he kept his hands to himself most days.

Affection was present in your relationship but you mostly had to ask for it. He’d give it to you without a second thought but he rarely initiated any form of affection besides a few hugs or kisses here and there.

To be honest—it bothered you at first as you believed it was something about you that made him not want to be affectionate but then you realized it was just hard for him to show physical affection because he never really knew how. He was an amazing boyfriend—he just had some struggles.

You were fine with this now and it didn’t bother you, knowing that he still loved you very much.

But what you didn’t know was how badly this affected Megumi. His fear of initiating physical affection was eating him alive from the inside out.

Megumi had a lot of emotions—believe it or not—but he didn’t know how to handle all of it so he just shoved it all down where nobody could find it. He never learned how to deal with any of it so it seemed like the only quick solution.

His mother passed away at a young age and affection or even emotion (besides anger, disappointment, or his father being unamused) was not common from his father and stepmother. Growing up he got the occasional pat on the head or a hug from Gojo and his older sister Tsumiki tried her best to show her love for him when she could—but that had ended all too soon.

He would never admit it but he absolutely craved affection—specifically from you. The poor boy was so touch-starved. His heart soared whenever you asked for a hug or to lay down together. And it tore away at his heart how badly he wanted to ask you for love but for some reason, he was scared to do so.

But one thing about Megumi was that he was persistent and he was going to get through this and overcome his anxiety one way or another. After all, you were already his girlfriend. What could possibly go wrong?

Right now, you were on a walk with him, Nobara, and Yuji. Shoko had insisted on the four of you going out and getting some sun and none of you were about to argue with the intimidating school doctor so you all quickly got out there.

You walked alongside Megumi while Nobara and Yuji goofed off a couple of feet ahead of the two of you, not paying attention to either of you at all. Megumi quietly walked with a stoic expression, keeping his hands in his pockets. He had barely said anything but that’s because his mind was racing.

You didn’t mind it at all as long as you were with him. Megumi’s gaze kept flickering down to your hand, which was at your side as you walked. He wanted to just reach down and grab your hand tightly but something stopped him. Why? He had no idea.

You were his girlfriend, he had held your hand before and nothing happened. So why would it be any different now? Anxiety over simple things never made anyone think sensible thoughts. But it was enough to make him nervous to simply reach out and grab your hand.

And the worst part? You had no idea. You simply kept walking with a big smile on your face as the two of you walked together.

Before he could stop himself, he just took his hand out of his pocket and grabbed your hand rather abruptly, not saying a single thing as if trying to ignore what just happened.

You were a little stunned—just because it was so sudden. And he had just grabbed your hand rather than lacing his fingers together with yours or something like that so you looked at him with a little bit of confusion. “Megumi?” You asked.

Noticing your eyes on him, he just avoided eye contact, feeling his cheeks heat up for some reason. All he was doing was holding your hand! Well, more like gripping it at this point.

“You don’t have to grip my hand like that, I’m not going anywhere.” You chuckled, trying to make him loosen up a bit so you could intertwine your fingers with his. Really, you were just glad that he was holding your hand and had done it himself.

Megumi didn’t reply but his grip loosened up so you could intertwine your fingers with his, properly holding hands now. You gave his hand a little squeeze and a reassuring smile. To be honest, it was really cute to see him like this but you weren’t going to say anything about it and just decided to leave it as it was.

Holding hands—it was such a simple thing but Megumi’s heart felt like it was racing. He was proud of himself for initiating things but boy was his heart pounding.

But feeling his skin against yours was so nice; feeling the warmth of your hand against his, it was so comforting. Goodness, he loved you so much. He just didn’t know how to say it sometimes.

The two of you held hands until you got back to the school. Nobara and Yuji rushed inside, not wanting to be out in the heat anymore while you and Megumi took your time getting inside. Sometimes you believed Nobara and Yuji shared one brain cell between each other—and they probably did, to be honest.

Megumi’s hand fell from yours when you got inside, which was okay, you were going to sit down to cool off anyway.

You made your way inside and to one of the rooms, walking over to one of the couches. Thankfully you had nothing else going on for the rest of the day so you could just practically pass out on the couch for a little while.

Before you sat down, you looked at Megumi, who was just standing there looking at you. “You okay, sweetheart?” You asked, slightly confused. He had been acting odd all day and it confused you. What was going on?

Again, no reply. Instead, you felt his hands suddenly grab your waist and pull you close to him, his arms enveloping you in a big hug. You stood there stunned for a moment before wrapping your arms around him tightly. It was clear that he really needed this hug.

“Megumi—,” You spoke but he cut you off.

“Don’t say anything.” He said softly, “Just don’t say anything.” He breathed out, not wanting to be asked any questions right now. All he wanted to do was hold you.

With you still in his arms, he moved and sat down on the couch, putting you on his lap and burying his face into the crook of your neck. It was so comforting, so nice. He just wanted to stay like this forever, in the safety and comfort of your arms.

You were still stunned that he was doing this but you didn’t question a thing, continuing to keep your arms locked tightly around him. Eventually, your hand made its way up to his scalp, gently raking your nails through his hair. You could feel him practically melt into your touch and you let out a little chuckle.

“Cute,” You mumbled, your voice could barely be heard.

Megumi let out a little huff and just kept his arms around you, his cheeks warm from embarrassment.

You weren’t sure how long you two were like that and eventually, you had somehow shifted to where the both of you were laying down, still holding each other in your arms. Megumi had practically fallen asleep, comfortably cuddled up right in your arms.

And he would’ve fallen asleep—had Yuji not walked into the room and seen the two of you lying together on the couch. Poor, innocent Yuji who could physically never bring himself to be quiet. “Ooh, Fushiguro! Getting comfortable with [name] there huh?” He said lightheartedly, thinking nothing of it. He really was just teasing.

Within an instant, Megumi was sitting up with an unamused expression, reaching to grab the nearest thing he could, his face pink and flushed “Shut up!”

Yuji was out of that room within seconds, just barely dodging the magazine Megumi had thrown at him.

[thehouseofurmotha]

`✵•.¸,✵°✵.｡.✰ 𝕃𝕠𝕦𝕕 𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕕𝕖 ✰.｡.✵°✵,¸.•✵´★

Pairing: Bakugou x Aizawa's Daughter Reader

Warnings: Fluff, lots of fluff! Bakugou is vry anxious, a lil bit of cussing, possibly ooc Bakugou

Summery: you finally convince your boyfriend Katsuki Bakugou to meet your father. Little do they both know they already know each other.

"Katsuuuuuu" you whine pouting at your grumpy boyfriend. Even though you know that his anger is nothing more than a cover for every other emotion he's feeling, and right now you can tell he's anxious. No matter how many times you have asked him to meet your father you've been turned down with a simple 'I'm not ready yet', and even if you understands the boy's anxiety it doesn't make you any less disappointed.

"S'not that I don't wanna meet him doll, you know I do. Jus' what if he thinks I'm not good enough for you. You're just so perfect, and so calculated. Then m'jus reckless me." Letting out a long sigh afterwards because he really does want to meet the man who raised the girl he's so lucky to call his girlfriend, but he's scared. Rightfully so he thinks, because he really never will be good enough to deserve you.

"Kats, he's going to love you. I know me telling you probably won't end up changing how you feel, but you are good enough for me. You're everything I want, you treat me better than anyone else could, and if my father cannot see that he is painfully blind." You haven't had the heart to tell him who exactly your father is, especially with it being his teacher. You know it would only freak him out more, and that's the last thing that you need to do.

You know your boyfriend honestly probably better than you know yourself. As you've known him since you were in middle school. You can read him in a way no one else can. They see his brash. angry personality on the outside and they immediately assume that's all he is. Is a loud angry kid, but you, you see the parts of him that no one else is allowed to. You see the passion he has, the love he has for saving people, you see his softness. He's a different person around you. You bring out the best in him in ways that no one else could ever dream to do. As he does to you, because he also sees the parts of you nobody else has been allowed to see before. He knows your greatest fears, and the things that inspire you. He's supportive of your dreams as you are his. He'd never judge you, especially about the fact that you're not becoming a hero. Instead opting to take general studies at U.A. where you focus your studies on hero analysis instead.

"Do you mean it?" There's a hint of pain in his voice that would go unnoticed by anyone but you.

"Of course I do" you say as you gently cup his face with your hands. Then he gives you a look, one that is full of love. Love for you, and it's almost enough to make you tear up. But you fight it as to not spook him.

"Okay my love, I'll meet him." He gives you a small smile, and you think your heart may have melted right there.

"How about dinner at my house this Saturday kats? I'll make your favorite and we'll just have a nice evening." You say with an encouraging smile. You know how hard this must be for him and you're so incredibly proud of him.

"Okay, I'll let the old hag know that I'll be out be out for the evenin." He gently leans his forehead against yours after placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. You love how gentle his is with you, like at any moment you could break in his grasp.

You giggle as you playfully hit his shoulder, "Stop calling her that Kats." Before he has the chance to respond your phone starts blasting your alarm, telling you that it's time to start your walk home.

"M'gonna miss you." He says as you carefully get out of his lap and stretch as you stand up.

"I'll call you as soon as I'm home, and we can stay on the phone all night." This answer seems to satisfy him as he stands up and gives you a kiss before grabbing your jacket to help you put it on.

"Goodbye katsu, I'll talk to you later." Giving him a peck on his cheek and opening the door to his room.

"Yeah, whatever bye nerd." Even though that would come off as rude to anyone else, it places a large smile on your face as you make your way out of his house. It really is a gorgeous house, his parents have wonderful taste.

As you start on your walk you think about how the conversation with your father will go. He'll more than likely be getting ready for his night-shift of patrol. He knew you were seeing someone but other than that he knew no details. You had never been one to share the details of your love life and he knew that, so he chose not to push. Hoping that you would trust him enough to tell him anything important.

As you arrive home, you put your key in the lock and carefully unlock the door. As you open the door to your guys apartment, you immediately see your father in the kitchen dressed in his hero suit making himself coffee. It was the only way he got through his night shifts. As he sees you he starts to walk over to you before giving you a hug and a kiss to the top of your head.

"Welcome home hun, how's your day been?" He says pulling away and giving you a smile. He knows you can handle yourself but there's a certain relief that comes with knowing that you're safe in your home.

"It's been good, but I've got something to talk to you about." As you say this his heart beats a little quicker, maybe something happened. He's already thinking of every horrible thing that could have happened to you. You gently place your hand on his shoulder taking him out of his thoughts.

"Saturday, my boyfriend's going to come over for dinner. So he can meet you." He sighs in relief, he can handle that. It's simply just meeting the boy who has stolen your heart. He's noticed the way you've changed, since you've started hanging out with that boy. You seem happier, calmer even. But all he knows is that it's been a change for the better, and he can tell this boy makes you happy. So, even though trusting someone else with the care of the most important person to him is terrifying. He knows you're happy and healthy, that's all that'll ever matter to him.

"Alright that's fine, but you're cooking cause you know I can't for shit." You let out a small giggle at this comment, because he really cannot cook to save his life.

"Already planned on it dad!" He could spend the rest of his life like this. In the sweet moments between the two of you. Due to his busy schedule he doesn't get to see you as much as he would like. Even though he knows you don't blame him, and never would he can't help but feel some guilt. He never wants you to feel like he's abandoning you in the way your mother did.

"Alright hun, I've got to leave for patrol, there's some money on the counter for you to order yourself dinner. I should be home around 3. Have a good night, I love you." Once again he plants a kiss to your forehead, with a small smile forming on his lips.

"Thank you, I love you too dad. Have a good patrol!" And with that he leaves for the night.

You spend some time debating on what to get, with the help of Katsuki's opinions. After you get your food and eat you and him both decide that it's time for bed. You fall asleep to the sound of his soft snores feeling the most content that you have in years.

The rest of your week goes by normally. With the same routine of going to school, seeing your boyfriend, and going home. A simple routine but one that you've grown to love. The normalcy of everything is so comforting to you. And before you know it Saturday has arrived. Throughout the day you're excited, you think. You're not actually really sure how you feel, you want to be exciting but then there's the thought of what if it doesn't go well. And now you're suddenly wondering if Kats will be mad that you didn't tell him who your father was. As it gets closer to the time that was agreed upon by the three of you, the panic starts to really set.

This does not go unnoticed by your father as he is an extremely observant man. Yet, for what feels like one of the first times in his life, he doesn't know how to comfort you. He wants to promise you that he'll like your boyfriend but he knows there's always a chance that promise would be broken. And he doesn't want to do that to you. He settles in just trying to tell you he'll be nice. He walks into the kitchen where you've started making curry. You're making two kinds because you know your father cannot handle the spice. You don't acknowledge his presence but he's aware you know that he is with you.

"Hey, uh I promise I'll be nice tonight, but I can't promise that I'll like him." He says as gently as he can, but he feels like that last part may have come out a little harsh.

"I know dad, it's not really you I'm worried about. He's just.. He's so anxious but it comes out in a way that's harsh, and I don't want you to think less of him." It was a hard confession for you to make to him. Fearing that he might connect the dots before your boyfriend gets here.

"I'll keep it in mind kid, because I know you're happy. I see it on your face." He walks back to his room as he says that. But it leaves a smile on your face. And it reminds you how much he truly cares about you.

You think about Katsuki the entire time you cook. Thinking about his smile that is so contagious to you. He's smiling and you are too. About his hair, and the way it's so pointy. Yet it somehow manages to be so soft too. His voice that is so loud and harsh with others, but is so gentle and soft with you. You think about the way he looks while he cooks. He'll say he enjoys your food tonight, and he might. But you both know that he is absolutely the superior cook. You think about his handsome face. Everything about it being so perfect and fitting together so well. The red of his eyes, and the small bags that fall under them. Everything about him is so perfect.

Eventually, you're interrupted from your thoughts by a knock on the door. 'Shit' you think is it really already time. You quickly go to open the door and you're pleasantly surprised at the sight in front of you. Your lovely boyfriend dressed nicer than you think you've ever seen. Wearing a nice pair of jeans and a red dress shirt that brings out his eyes. He's also holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

"Uh. Here these are for you." He says has he shoves them into your hands. You smile at him.

"Thank you they're gorgeous. Would you uh, like to come in?" No matter how long you guys are together you'll honestly probably always have these small awkward moments between the two of you that you've grown to love.

"Oh uh yeah." He nods his head as he accepts your invitation and walks into your house. Taking a mental note of his surroundings, the place you, the girl he loves lives. He thinks it's simple, but nice, even more than his own house.

"Uh, by the way don't kill me for not telling you." You hear your father start coming down the hall and feel this is your last chance to say anything. And you decide to plead for your life. He looks at you with complete and utter confusion.

"Huh?" He says this as your father walks into the room and as the realization hits him, you see the color drain from his face. You look at your father and he has the same look on his face. Katsuki's seems to be more out of fear and your father's more out of shock.

"Y/n what did I say about loud blondes?" He says with a sigh, but you know he's not mad. He may just be trying to freak Katsuki out a little more.

With a giggle you respond, "to stay away from them?" Katsuki looks at you like you're crazy, you can only wonder what's going through his head. You take his hand giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Uh- hi Aizawa-sensei." He says with a shake in his voice. You can tell he's scared and you feel so bad for not telling him. You realize that it was a mistake you shouldn't have hid it from him, you should have just told him. But you don't have time to keep thinking before your father responds.

"Hello Bakugou, I'm assuming you were as left in the dark about this as I was?" Your father sends you a small glare.

"Uh yeah sir I was." He says huffing and shoving the hand that wasn't holding yours in his pocket, as he glares intensely at the floor.

"Msorry- I didn't know how to tell you guys.. I'm sorry." You say meekly, you really hadn't known how to tell them.

"it's okay, m'jus a little shocked." Now it's his turn to give your hand a comforting squeeze. He really isn't mad at you, but he does wish you had told him before. But that's something the two of you can talk about another day.

"I know you make my daughter happy Bakugou, so I'm not mad. And I know you'll be able to protect her. But this will not change our relationship at school, do not expect anything to be easier for you. If anything be prepared for it to be harder, if it's my daughter you'll be protecting." Your father sends a look to your boyfriend that conveys how serious he is about his words.

"Yeah yeah sir, I wouldn't want it any other way." He send a glare straight back at your father, you know this is his way of proving himself to the older man. So for now, you won't get in the way, as long as it doesn't get to out of hand.

"We should probably go eat before dinner gets cold." The two men nod in agreement before you guys make your way to the dining room. You sit next to Katsuki and your father sits on the other side of the table. You give both of them plates before making your own.

"I hope you enjoy it." You say with a weak smile. You watch as the both of them start eating and Katsuki gives you one of those looks that just shows you how much he is in love with you.

"Shit babe, this is so fuckin good." He says before taking anything bite. And this makes you giggle and return him the smile. Your father watches with an amused smirk and he realizes that calming the loud blondes may run in the family.

The rest of dinner goes well, you guys all talk and you father seems to accept of Katsuki. And that makes you happier than anything, seeing the two most important people in your life get along.

A/n: RAAAAH okay so I fear it's late and I'm a little eepy so I kinda rushed the end, so I might come back and change it or I'll js leave it I don't know! But this is the first time in a rlly long time I've written so it honestly probably sucks but I fear it's okay chat. I hope you at least someone enjoyed it!

Pt. 2, pt. 3

[cressidagrey]

Stars all aligned - Chapter 11

Summary:

If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.

They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.

Warning:

I'll keep the warnings, even though there is no outright mention in this part: Bashing of like...every IC member? Especially the Archeron Sisters, discussion of chronic pain, discussion of Infertility, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Underage Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Accidental Baby Procurement

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please, take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

Azriel stared down at Azalea as Zahra held her.

A wave of affection and protectiveness washed over him as he took in the sight of the two of them together, an unconscious possessiveness making him want to reach out and wrap them both in his arms. It was like an overwhelming instinct, something primal stirring within him as the shadows roiled and coiled around his legs.

Azalea.

Azriel couldn’t look away from the baby in Zahra’s arms, the name Azalea just repeating itself over and over in his head.

His gaze was fixated on her little face, the innocence there, even after everything she had endured. That anyone could ever hurt this… this precious creature… it was unthinkable.

Or maybe it wasn't. Ruben was well known for his cruelty...and...well, Azriel wouldn't be surprised at all, if his reasoning for why he had locked his bastard daughter into the dungeon had been to create...something like Azriel. A shadowsinger.

A boy would have been made to train. But a girl...Ruben could keep a girl as nothing better but a slave. And nobody would bother to protest.

The very idea made a cold fire rise in Azriel’s heart, a rage burning in his chest that he struggled to force down. His hands clenched into fists on their own accord, a wave of possessiveness making him want to sweep Zahra and now Azalea into his arms, to hide them away in his shadows until the world couldn’t touch them.

The thought made him want to snarl. The idea of someone even thinking to hurt her, to abuse her…it was unspeakable.

He would hunt down anyone who would dare to touch a single hair on his little girl’s head, to make sure they could never touch her again.

Ours, Master, The shadows hissed.

Ours. The word echoed through him, the possessive instinct within him swelling until it was nearly a tangible force.He wanted her, their little baby…he needed her to be safe.

Even now, when she was safely slumbering against Zahra's chest, content and fed...A harsh bumping sound made him look up as he watched his mother carry a wooden chest down the staircase.

"“Ma, for cauldron’s sake, let me help," Azriel said quickly.

“Language,” his mother protested drily, setting the chest on the floor with a huff. ““I can just about manage to carry that. I am not that old and frail yet.”

He rolled his eyes and crossed the room to gently take the chest from her, the weight of it almost nothing to him.

"What is that?" he asked as he let her wave him to the kitchen to where Zahra and Azalea were still sitting.

““It’s…for you,” his mother said casually as she followed, Azriel carefully setting the chest down on the table. "I think it's finally turning out to be useful," she commented drily.

He could make out Zahra’s curiosity, her eyes fixed on the chest too as she watched the conversation from her place at the table, Azalea still sleeping in her arms.

"I made things for your future children," Esmeray told Azriel as she opened the lid of the wooden chest.

Azriel blinked as his mother opened the chest: There seemed to be all sorts of baby clothing, all hand-knitted and sewn together carefully. Azriel was almost surprised at how many items were packed into the chest, a wave of overwhelming affection rushing through him as he took it all in.

Knitted hats and mittens and socks…carefully made little dresses and shirts and trousers…painstakingly embroidered. 

He reached out to lightly graze his fingers over the material…they were so…so soft to touch, made lovingly and with so much care.

“Ma, you made all of this?” he asked softly, his gaze drawn back to his mother who gave him a soft smile, her eyes shining.

"I had 500 years," she said drily. "You took a long time to make me a grandma."

Azriel felt a flush rise to his cheeks, embarrassment welling inside of him at his mother’s simple words.

Zahra chuckled quietly besides him, no doubt thinking the same thing as she watched the interaction with a look of mild amusement. He tried to give her a glare over his shoulder, but she simply stuck her tongue out at him.

"You'll need to see what fits Azalea of course," his mother continued. "I thought my grandkids were gonna be a wee bit smaller when they arrived," she said with a grin. "But there are clothes in there and toys...and other things I collected."

He was once again surprised at the sheer amount of items inside the chest, the clothes and toys his mother had made and collected all in there. Azriel reached in and pulled up a soft toy, a black bat that was the size of his forearm and nearly Azalea's size. Carefully, he gently stroked his finger over it’s head, a warm feeling welling in his heart at the softness of the fur.

"Ah, I was searching for this," his mother said happily, as she pulled out what looked like a long length of fabric and a metal ring the size of his fist out of the chest

"What's that?" Zahra asked curiously. 

"A Ring Sling," Esmeray answered. "So you can carry a baby but can keep your hands free," she explained. 

Zahra mustered it curiously.  "My sister had a sort of...carrier for my nephew but he hated it," Zahra said with some amusement. Nyx had screamed bloody murder at just the sight of it. Azriel had spent the better part of 3 months combing through Illyria at Rhys' behest to find it in the first place. 

"Ah, yes," Esmeray said drily. “Most Illyrians can’t afford these. We make do with what we have. In this case: Lengths of fabric and one of those rings you can get from the blacksmiths. You can tie these different ways too. You don’t even need the ring all the time," Esmeray explained. "And when you are done having kids, you can reuse the fabric or pass it down."

 Zahra stared at the fabric in curiosity, “That seems rather...clever and simple, actually,” she commented. "Could I try that?"

"Of course," his mother agreed with a smile. "Hand her over to Azriel, and I'll teach you one way to tie it."

Zahra gave Azriel a nod, and he moved to carefully take the baby from her arms into his own. He adjusted his grip as he held Azalea carefully, the baby stirring against his chest at the change. She snuffled softly as he began to gently rock her.

For a moment he just stared at the sleeping baby, a familiar affection welling within him as he began singing a soft lullaby underneath his breath as his mother showed Zahra how to tie the sling.

“We’ll need to see if this works for you, because you don’t have wings,” Esmeray explained as she cinched the length of fabric around Zahra’s body. “Azriel, don’t hog the baby.”

Azriel huffed, “I am not hogging,” he mumbled, though it wasn't exactly the truth as he gently rocked Azalea, carefully holding her little body against his chest. “She’s my baby,” he said defiantly, but still made no move to hand her over. Azalea slept on blissfully without noticing the tug of war, her little fists curling against his chest as she let out another soft snuffling sound.

His mother gave him a look that told him clearly that he was ridiculous. She was probably right. Zahra just gave him a smile, something sweet and glowing that made his heart ache in his chest. 

“Hand her over when you are done being a mother hen,” Esmeray said firmly and Azriel knew there was no point in arguing.

It’s not like she was wrong either. Reluctantly, he handed Azalea over to his mother when she was done showing Zahra how to tie the sling, immediately feeling the pang in his heart as she left his arms. She slept right through being tugged into the sling though, peacefully resting against Zahra's chest.

A part of Azriel felt a bit envious of how peaceful Azalea seemed, even against Zahra’s chest, while he desperately missed having her in his own arms again.

He had to resist the urge to snatch her up again, instead he settled for watching her as she breathed softly against Zahra’s chest, her wings twitching a little in her sleep.

"You can walk her to sleep this evening," Zahra promised him softly, giving him an indulgent smile.

A slight flush rose to his face, a small and bashful smile pulling at his lips in response to her words.

A part of Azriel desperately wanted to protest, to say that he didn’t want to wait another moment but he knew it would make him sound like a needy child. He simply grumbled in response, staring down at Azalea with a pitiful expression as she lay against Zahra’s chest."I'll hold you to that.”

His mother just huffed in the background, rolling her eyes indulgently at his behaviour.

Still, he watched Zahra carefully move around, Azalea peacefully slumbering against her chest. She didn't even stir, clearly comfortable with Zahra. Safe and Sound.

But none of that helped with the complete and utter mess the shadows had made when they had kidnapped her.

We couldn't just leave her there! the shadows disagreed sharply. Besides, he hasn't even noticed that she's not there anymore...

Azriel had to admit they made a fair point. But it didn’t change the fact that none of them had been thinking straight when they kidnapped her, too much driven by their own outrage and anger. The shadows might have done the right thing in taking Azalea from her father, but they had certainly not gone about it the right way.

And now Azriel got to explain it to Rhys. Which was probably not gonna get over too well.

Oh for Cauldron’s sake...Azriel groaned to himself, running a hand through his hair.

Rhys was going to kill him.Maybe he could just...wait a bit before telling him? Though keeping something like this from Rhys for too long didn’t sound like a great plan either… No. He shouldn't wait.

He needed to tell Rhys as soon as possible.

And then he suddenly felt it.

Felt the push against the wards around Rosehall.

It's the General, the shadows whispered.

Cassian? Cassian was here?

Maybe he should have seen it coming. Maybe he should have… Azriel sighed, feeling an exhausted irritation welling up within him.

What was Cassian doing here? Had Rhys sent him?

He probably should have known that Cassian wasn't going to have the patience to actually wait...

He should have probably known that Cassian, the one that had broken into Zahra's fucking home wouldn't just leave them be either.

Another push at the wards.

Azriel nearly growled in annoyance.

"What's wrong?" Zahra asked him.

"Cassian is outside," he said drily. "I should have seen it."

Zahra winced in response, clearly not looking too excited at the idea of his brother showing up. 

His mother on the other hand, perked up a bit, her eyebrows raising.

"Cassian?" she repeated, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

Azriel sighed in resignation at her look.

"Yes," he said quietly.

"You should let him in," his mother pointed out helpfully. "Unless you want him to force his way in."

Oh if he was, Azriel was going to fucking kill him.

Zahra looked at him, a protective hand cupping the back of Azalea's head.

"I'll talk to him," he promised his mate. "He won't take her from us," he promised her fiercely.

"I would like to see him try," Zahra answered, sticking out her chin defiantly.His own expression hardened in response, a fierce protectiveness welling within him.

Rhys and Cassian might be his family. But they weren’t…they weren’t going to take Azalea away from them.

"He won’t," Azriel told her firmly, not even a hint of doubt in his voice. "Not unless he's willing to deal with me."

Still...his siphons were pulsing dully as he walked into his mother's backyard. it bordered right to the warding line and he wasn't surprised to find Cassian at the boundary either. Waiting for him, his arms crossed.

"What do you want?" Azriel asked flatly.

Cassian's eyes widened in surprise at his tone of voice. "Mostly I just wanted to see if you were alright," Cassian gave back. "Rhys laid down the law, y'know? You don't need to worry about Feyre, Elain or Nesta." He grimaced. "I had a talk with Nes...though I think Emerie and Gwyn probably had a bigger impact with the talk they had…”

“They talked with her?” Azriel repeated, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

He had somehow not expected that. He had to admit he wouldn’t have minded being a fly on the wall to that conversation…

"Yes," Cassian answered quietly. "How is she?"

It was clear who he meant as Cassian stared pointedly at the cottage.

"Fine," Azriel said flatly. 

Better now with Azalea…Fine most of the time. Not fine other times. But quite frankly, he didn’t think Cassian deserved to hear more than that. 

Cassian grimaced. "I don't expect you to trust any of us with Zahra any time soon," Cassian said softly. "I just...I just wanted to say that I am sorry."

Something in Azriel's chest loosened a little bit as Cassian's words registered in his mind.

"I'm not the one you should be apologising too," he got out finally.

"I think you are," Cassian disagreed quietly. "Because Zahra wasn't the only one we treated abhorrently. We didn't treat you any better."

Azriel had to bite down the scathing reply that was building on his tongue. Because...Cassian wasn’t wrong. It didn’t make things any easier, his best friend clearly realising that they had…that they had treated him poorly.

"You don't trust me anymore," Cassian said softly. "And I can't give you the fault for it, because it's all on me," he continued weakly. "I realised that I have no fucking clue what's going on in your life."

That stung more than he wanted to admit.

It stung and burned in his chest…because it was true.

Gods, he had trusted Cassian. Had trusted him with almost everything. But now…he felt like that trust had shattered…

Not completely. Not completely shattered, but the cracks were there now. And the pain in his chest grew as Azriel looked at his best friend carefully, taking him in as he stood on the other side of the boundary of the wards.

"Why are you here?" he asked quietly.

Cassian exhaled slowly…he looked...upset. "I just...I just wanted to see you," he said simply, his voice so soft as if he was scared it would drive him away if spoken too loud. "Just...see you and talk to you. How are you?"

Azriel swallowed, his heart feeling like it was being squeezed inside his chest at his friends weary expression and the tiredness in his voice.

“Honestly?” he asked drily. “Not great. You?”

Cassian gave a weak attempt at a huff of a laugh and even that didn’t sound like it normally would. “Not great either,” he said honestly. He huffed out another weak attempt at a laugh, “I think that’s a given...I don't think any of us enjoyed the mirror you held up in front of our faces, but cauldron, we needed it," Cassian said with a sigh. "Thank you, Az." It was earnest. "I spent the whole night awake, trying to figure out where we went wrong," Cassian continued softly. "We took you both for granted. Zahra and you both…"

Azriel’s throat was suddenly dry, his heart clenching again in his chest at his friend’s words.

He tried to force the lump in his throat to disappear, but failed to do so, just letting out a weak huff of air instead as a response.

He hadn’t expected his best friend to…well…to be so honest about it. To actually confront the mistakes he and the others had made.

"I was a shitty friend and an even worse brother," Cassian said with a snort. "I'll do better."

Azriel couldn’t stop his lip from twitching up at that promise. "Promise?" he got out, though his own tone sounded more pleading than he had wanted it to, like a child who had desperately wanted reassurance and forgiveness from someone he trusted.

"Promise," Cassian echoed firmly, a determination in his voice that made Azriel feel like…it made it feel like he meant it. Like Cassian truly wanted to try to...to make amends for the mistakes he had made. 

"And you are not going to break into Zahra's fucking house anymore," Azriel said sharply. "In what world is that alright, Cassian?"

Cassian winced slightly as Azriel spoke, looking almost uncomfortable, for him at least. For once, it didn’t feel like he was here to fight. He let out a long sigh as he ran his fingers through his messy hair.

“I...” he began, before he stopped himself, as if reconsidering whatever he was about to say. “I went about handling the whole thing the wrong way, I know that,” he said quietly at last. "I just needed to know if...If she went through the same thing my mother did," he said weakly.

"The answer is yes, minus the bastard child," Azriel snapped.

"You broke into my house?!" 

***

Cassian's head shot up to see Zahra, standing in the door of Esmeray's cottage, looking...well, more furious than Cassian had ever seen her.

“Yes,” Cassian answered and he had to physically stop himself from taking a step back from her as he caught the anger in her icy eyes as she continued to advance towards him

Cauldron she was terrifying when she was mad...

Not helped by...golden sparks that seemed to come off her and burn off into the icy midday air.

He had never fucking seen anything of that sort from her before. 

But now he swallowed as he wondered if it was in fact true that the cauldron hadn’t left the fourth Archeron sister with any special abilities…

She came to stand besides Azriel, who was looking at her with an expression that Cassian could only call absolutely fucking besotted.

Like she was the light of his life. 

"How dare you?" she seethed.

He grimace. "Feyre was there to?" he tried but Zahra growled.

“I don’t care that Feyre was there,” she said, almost in a snarl. “You broke into my home. Violated my privacy and for what?” she almost yelled at him.

Cassian had to work every muscle in his body just to not take a step back, his hackles rising at the way she was…was absolutely livid.

"I was worried?" he said weakly.

“Oh really?” she said, her voice dripping with disbelief as she all but spat that single word out. “You were worried, so you decided you were just going to break into my home and spy on me? You were worried, even when we haven't exchanged two fucking words in months? How dare you?!"

"I am sorry," he apologised. "I just...Nesta was talking about...and Emerie thought that maybe you hadn't..." he tried to get out the words as he stared at Nesta's sister.

Truly looked at Zahra. He had never thought that she resembled Nesta.

She had skin in a shade that was more similar to Azriel's and his than to any of her sisters...a nose that didn't look like the either, and green eyes that none of the other Archeron sister had inherited...but her lips were Feyre...And the way she drew up to her full height...that was all Nesta.

And the sparks were still swirling around him, a thin golden film that covered her…it was disconcerting to look at. 

"Nesta talked about what?" Zahra demanded.

"About...she talked about an affair you had," Cassian finally forced out. "And Emerie...she suggested that you didn't do it willingly."

She didn't flinch. If anything she stuck out her chin defiantly.

"I did what I had to," Zahra said simply. 

Like that…like that encompassed what she had done. What she had given up to keep her sisters alive…the sacrifice she had made that had never been honored before. 

Azriel's expression was fucking devasted. Cassian could see that. Angry and furious and pained and a thousand other things.

And for just a moment Cassian thought about what if the role were reversed...if it was Nesta and him in this situation, if this had happened to Nesta? He wouldn’t...he wouldn’t have handled it as well as Azriel had. He didn’t think he would have handled it at all. 

"That doesn't give you the right to barge into my home," she repeated furiously. "And it isn’t any of your business.”

"It is!" he protested, some of his own anger and frustration at the whole situation bleeding into his voice. "You’re Nesta‘s little sister! You’re our family too."

Involuntarily, his gaze flicked to Azriel's arm, who’s hands were now clenched into fists, the shadows were dancing around him, looking ready to strike at a moment‘s notice. There was a muscle in Azriel‘s jaw clenching almost rhythmically, that told him his friend was furious and...

Cassian thought his best friend might punch him in the face.

"If I am your family," Zahra said, her eyes flashing furiously, "you’ve all done a horrible job at showing me that," she snapped scornfully.

There was pain in Azriel's eyes at Zahra's words and the anger that was written over his friend's face told him Azriel was thinking the exact same thing as him, that they had done a horrible job at showing her that all this time…

"You’re right," Cassian found himself saying, even though the words almost pained him, as if they were being torn out of his chest. "We have and…I’m sorry," he added, almost whispering the words.

It stung to admit that. Even more than the realisation that they had done a horrible job at being a family to her, that they had messed up in every single possible way.

Zahra was still staring at him, her expression a mixture of surprise and...and exhaustion. Like she had just been…been so tired of everything...

"You’ve apologised already," she said tiredly, the anger seemingly bled out of her voice, leaving only exhaustion behind.

Cassian’s heart clenched painfully at the sight. 

Azriel's arm came around her waist, a kiss was pressed against her temple...It was so loving, so intimate, that Cassian didn't even know where to look. Watching the two of them make out would have been more comfortable to look at.

At least that wouldn't have had Azriel's shadows, swirling around Zahra and twining themselves around every patch of available skin. They were acting protective and...Cassian had never seen them like that before.

"I just..." he said, trying to find words. "I just want to get it right. And I know it's going to take time. And that's alright. But I am on your side. I want you to know that. And I'll do whatever it takes to corall Nesta."

"Good luck with that," Zahra said dryly and it got a snort of laughter out of Azriel, who pulled her against his side. Cassian tried not to grimace at the way the shadows clung to her still, twirling around her.

Azriel and Zahra exchanged a look he couldn't quite place. "There is one thing you should know," Azriel said quietly. "You better come in."

Cassian's eyebrows went straight up at the almost ominous words. He saw the tension in Zahra's body, the way she seemed...almost reluctant? Her nose wrinkled ever so slightly, like she was bracing herself for something.

For what?

Still, he carefully crossed the ward boundary and followed behind Zahra and Azriel…

He got the answer the moment he entered the cottage. Azriel's mother was there, with a...baby on her hip. A baby that looked like...Azriel's twin.

Cassian just gaped at the scene in front of him as he entered the cottage. Zahra immediately was at Esmeray’s side, the baby reaching out for her hand. But the baby was staring at him. At Cassian. 

A baby. A baby that was staring at him with...with familiar hazel eyes and black hair.

A baby wrapped up tightly in a blanket, in Esmeray’s arms that Zahra was cooing over. 

A baby with wisps of shadows that curled around it like a protective cocoon.

And Azriel's mother, looking at the baby with such adoration as he had never seen on her face before...

"Az...What the fuck." he blurted out. Did his brother get a female pregnant? Who? Zahra?!?

He stared at her. Then at the baby. Then at the shadows. Then at his brother. Then at Esmeray,  who was looking at the baby adoringly as if it was the best thing to ever grace the world.

Right.

There must be a logical explanation.

"Congrats, Esmeray. How old is your...son?" he tried and Azriel's mother looked at him like he had just grown a second head.

She's a girl." she said drily. The tone of her voice and the hardness in her eyes taking him by such surprise that Cassian had to stop himself from gaping again.

And it was just then that he realised Azriel was staring at him, his friend was watching him with an expression he had never seen before. A look, that gave nothing away, that sent out a warning...but about what, he didn't know.

"Her name is Azalea," Zahra said softly. Azale reached out for Zahra with little arms, demanding to be held. Zahra acquiesced and Cassian stared as Azriel's arm wrapped around Zahra.

The tableau of a happy family.

What the hell is going on? The thought was like a mantra in his head.

His gaze flicked between Azriel, Zahra and the baby. 

Gods, the baby really did look like a miniature version of Azriel. With black hair and hazel eyes and...and the shadows seemed to be curled around her in a protective embrace, even as she reached out for Zahra.

"Who's baby is that?" Cassian finally asked weakly.

They all stared at him for a moment, Zahra's gaze filled with a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

"It's our baby, dumbass," Zahra said dryly and all the air left his lungs.

He was staring at her in disbelief for a heartbeat, trying to get his brain to process the words.

Then he turned to look at Azriel, who looked...absolutely smitten.

"You...you were pregnant?!" he blurted out.

Cassian swore his brain was about to explode. How had he missed that? How had not known about that?!

"How did I...How did none of us…how…" he tried to get out, but his brain wasn't cooperating.

"No," Zahra put him out of her misery.

What? That made even less sense! "If you didn't give birth to her, then where did you get that baby from?" He asked, utterly flummoxed.

You couldn’t have a baby that looked like you without getting pregnant or getting somebody else pregnant. That’s not how having a baby worked!

"The shadows kidnapped her," Azriel said drily.

At those words, Cassian felt himself staring in disbelief. The shadows kidnapped her...They... W h a t? "They...did what?" he got out and he didn't even try to keep the disbelief out of his voice. This whole situation was too bizarre.

He rubbed his temples. Maybe he had hit his head. Maybe he had gotten utterly drunk and now saw things that weren't...

"She looks just like you Az," he finally said weakly.

Azriel chuckled quietly. “I know,” he agreed with a laugh. 

Cassian's gaze was drawn back to the baby, who had finally gotten what she wanted and was resting in Zahra's arms now. She...Azalea looked so much like Azriel. There was no denying it.

“She's Ruben's bastard daughter," Azriel explained quietly. And suddenly it made sense. "The shadows kidnapped her out of the dungeon."

It took a moment for those words to fall into place in his brain, for the missing pieces to click into place, to understand the implications those words. And when they did…

Cassian swore his heart skipped a beat. He turned to his friend, his brother. Azriel, who was looking at the baby as if she was the most precious thing on the continent, with such...such gentle adoration that…

She was his niece. Which explained the startling similarity. And the shadows had kidnapped her out of the same dungeon Azriel had grown up in. 

"You are keeping her?" It wasn't truly a question. He wouldn’t have expected another answer but yes. And he got it. 

"Yes," Azriel said firmly, his voice and tone brokering no room for argument, or question.

Cassian's gaze shifted to the baby in Zahra's arms again, watching as Azriel’s shadows writhed around her like a protective cocoon, wrapping around every part of available skin. 

"Dad Az and Baby Az," he realised with a weak laugh. "Fuck, have you told Rhys yet?"

That drew out a snort out of Azriel, who grimaced.  "No," Azriel admitted. "You are the first."

And wasn't Cassian going to hold that over everybody's heads. 

"She is adorable," Cassian finally said quietly. 

"We think so," Azriel's voice was quiet, but that gentle tenderness…it nearly broke his fucking heart. 

Cassian's gaze was drawn to the baby again. Little Azalea looked so much like her father.

Because Azriel was going to be her father. Was going to be the one who loved on his little girl and spoiled her rotten, who would hold her hand through her first steps and wipe away tears and kiss skinned knees. 

Azriel was going to do all these things, of that Cassian had no doubt.

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Jane Fonda (Barbarella, Sunday in New York, Barefoot in the Park)—Feminist icon, LGBTQ+ rights activist since the 70s, Civil Rights and Native American rights advocate, environmentalist… she really is THE woman ever

Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?

This is round 6 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Jane Fonda:

"I assume she's already been submitted but I gotta make sure. I think there's an element to movies like Barbarella or her segment of Spirit of the Dead of those having been directed by her husband, who famously made movies about her being hot, and the incredible costume design also helped, but good lord. Look at her"

"She was so pretty, dear lord! She was and still us stunning. She’s great at comedy and drama."

"Shes so hot im so gay for me i will let her hit me with hers car"

"Gorgeous and also still getting arrested at climate protests, which is sexy behavior"

"Watching her in Barefoot in the Park seriously made me, a straight woman, question things"

"PLEASE I LOVE HER SO MUCH"

"Her vibes in these movies are so interesting because she, the daughter of an Old Hollywood star, went on to make both poignant dramatic movies and the some of the silliest things you've ever seen but even in the silly space adventures and sexploitations there's always this undeniable gravitas to her. It's like she's able not to take herself very seriously but at the same time never stops having this grace and elegance and makes it all work together. And she's always been very politically active which is also sexy. Her famous mugshot is from 1970 so right at the cutoff mark but come on"

Eartha Kitt:

"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."

"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."

"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”

"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."

"Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist."

[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

Too Far.

Summary: He's like a wounded animal when he's angry, lashing out when he feels cornered. He's gone too far this time, snapped and said something he definitely didn't mean, so now he has to fix it.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Fighting. Daryl is a dick, but not really, but also he is. Apologetic!Daryl. Alexandria Era. Sex.

A/N: Inspired by an excellent post by @love-norman which I'll link in the comments. I wasn't sure if you were okay with smut, so there's a fairly brief mention of sex but nothing overly explicit.

-

He’s a surprisingly effective communicator, once she can convince him to talk more and with enough time to work out exactly what ticks and grunts mean what. Daryl Dixon’s entire bag is self-sacrifice, so if he can assume that she needs him to tell her what’s going on in the always too busy head of his, he can do that for her without much care for how it impacts him. It’s not his most healthy coping mechanism but it certainly isn’t his worst and the reward? Oh, the reward is sweet. The reward is comfort and kindness and being held; being loved. What’s a moment of discomfort for a lifetime of her?

He's had to practice letting his walls down, slowly but surely since he met her, all the while failing to realise she was just digging her way underneath them. She didn’t ever pry, not really, not in any way that felt invasive, but she’d patiently wait him out; ask the question quietly, softly, and let him linger in the comfortable silence until he chose to answer back. Sometimes she’d work out the information without his need to speak at all; it happened the moment he realised he was fucked, that he was absolutely, irrefutably hers. She’d worked out exactly who he was as a person and he’d barely sad a word.

He’s attentive, and whilst that shocks him it comes as no surprise to anyone around him. He has spent his life fearing that he is exactly who he feared, but those who are lucky enough to consider themselves, correctly or not, close to Daryl never fear for much but his wellbeing. That he is a careful, thoughtful and tender partner surprises nobody but him. That’s not to say they don’t argue, the end of the world comes with its own set of tensions even without the usual relationship concerns, but he’s learnt not to bite first.

-

He shouldn’t have drunk anything, in hindsight, they’re both in bad shape, overwrought and under-fed and they shouldn’t have been at a fucking party, of all places. He definitely shouldn’t have had the four glasses of scotch Reg offered him on a mostly empty stomach. He can’t get used to the Alexandria walls, the houses he never could have afforded to breathe near let alone buy, the soft comforts he’d never had even before the end of the world. He’s never been to a party that hasn’t had a piss-stained couch or an overly full ashtray.

“You know that’s bullshit, Daryl, you’re being ridiculous!” She yells, firmly back in their own living room after he’d practically stormed out of Deanna’s. One minute they’re in full swing, standing talking about vacations from the old days with some new faces, the next his hand is dropping from around her waist and thudding from the front door like she’d said, ‘fuck off’ rather than the word ‘Canada’. He’d slammed the door behind them and snarled about how he would have embarrassed her and her fancy fucking vacations in ‘the real world’.

“Lil’ miss travel abroad and see th’ world cause she’s better than Daryl fuckin’ Dixon”

“What? That’s not-“

“I’m jus’ an idiot redneck with nothin’ an’ you’re this smart chick who saw the world, I get it, I ain’t dumb, th’ fuck would ya have wanted wit’ me?”

Her heart would shatter for him if she wasn’t seething quite so much, the sheer desperation in his words at odds with the tension in his body, clenched hands dragging through his finally clean hair. His eyes are stinging and he absolutely refuses to cry, has never gotten over thinking it makes him weak even when he feels weak.

“Daryl, what the fuck? Why are you being such an asshole?“

“Shut up, always yappin’ about stupid shit, fuckin’ hate ya sometimes!”

He turns quickly, wants to throw something, wants to scream, broad shoulders and harsh angles and all the wind leaves his body when he sees her flinch away from him. She’s cowers backwards, he feels like he’s going to be sick, body collapsing in on itself as he feels the anger leave his bones, replaced with ice laced panic. For a second, a horrifying second that feels ten times as long, he’s his old man. Shitfaced and angry with a glass in hand and if he had a mirror, he knows exactly whose face he’d see staring back at him.

“I would never hurt ya” he whispers, voice low and so broken, full of conviction as his breath hitches in the middle and crumbles at the end and she’d hug him if she wasn’t so shell shocked. Neither of them move for a beat, standing stock still as he trails his eyes over her, clocks the way her gaze refuses to lift to meet his. He can’t breathe. The room is too small for everything he’s feeling, like the walls are inching close and closer and the air is getting less. He tries to move like lightning but his whole body feels sluggish and slow as he inches past her and out the front door, flinching as it closes behind him and he wanders out into the street. He stares back at the house for a moment before deciding he needs a walk to clear his head.

When he comes back she’s sitting on the couch waiting for him, thumbs twiddling, head still down and worry eating her alive. He eases the door shut behind him, loud enough to tell her he’s home but soft enough to show he’s not mad. He wishes a door could convey remorse but it’s taken him long enough to be able to do it with words he doubts a block of wood would be able to in the timeframe he needs. He shucks off his boots, realising he shouldn’t have been wearing them in the house in the first place.

The fresh air has cooled his body enough that he feels less of the alcohol circulating around his system. He tries not to squeeze the flowers he’d plucked from the bush outside Aaron’s place as he stands with his back against the wood.

“’M sorry” he whispers before clearing his throat and repeating it at a higher volume. She turns her face towards him, looking at him over her shoulder. The anger is gone from her face, replaced with a dwelling worry that spikes at him, makes him replay his words over and over.

“What did I do?”

“Nothin’” he insists quickly, pauses before he realises he should say more, that she sometimes needs him to say more, they’ve talked about this “Ya didn’t, I promise”

“I’m sorry”

That does it, rips him from his safe haven by the door because he can’t stand the thought that she deserved anything he said to her, that she’d said anything wrong when he knows she hadn’t. Talking at a party, about stupid old-world stuff whilst her spare, wine glass free hand kept his back warm. She hadn’t said a damn thing wrong, and he’d scared her.

He strides over to the couch, coming round to kneel in front of her. He places the somewhat squashed flowers on the couch cushion next to her. He hovers a hand above her knee, placing it gently on the fabric of her dress when she doesn’t flinch away at the sight. He doesn’t want her to flinch ever again.

“Dun’ apologise to me when ya ain’t done nothin’ wrong”

“I’m so-“

“Dun’ ever apologise to me when i’s my fault. ‘S my shit an’ I shouldn’t take it out on ya”

She knows he loves her, has proven it time and time again, has put his body in front of hers in the face of almost certain death, would protect her with his last breath, would love her with it. But she knows she’ll never be able to unhear it, that some things you can’t take back, that she’ll always wonder, just a little bit if its true. Logic and love are very rarely intertwined.

“Okay”

He can still hear his fathers words ringing in his head, he knows, more than most, the power that words hold over people. He tries not to say anything he doesn’t mean, and he’ll admit he’s acerbic, pointed sure but never cruel, never unnecessarily unkind. He doesn’t know why tonight was different, but he takes her hands in his, locking his eyes on her so she understands.

“I dun’ get t’ speak t’ ya like that”

“No, you don’t” she agrees, voice firmer, back to her usual tone, the one he’s always loved going hand in hand with the certainty she can hold her own. She pauses, bringing his hands up to press a kiss to his knuckles, soothing because she’s terrified that after all this time, he’s still going to break them by thinking he’s not allowed to claim his hurt “You alright?”

He doesn’t answer, instead sitting back on his feet, raising a small hopeful smile at her.

“Tell me about th’ vacation”

“I don’t-“

“Please. Ya said ya still think ‘bout Canada all th’ time”

He really does want to know, he hadn’t been outside of Georgia before everything went down, and she’s mentioned travel but Canada hadn’t come up; he’s not sure if it was that, that set him off or that he felt inadequate in a room full of people with experiences he never got to have.

“I think it was my favourite trip. Packed a bag and went alone on a whim, found a lake in the forest with a little cabin. Just mountains and trees and lakes. It’s the most peaceful I’ve ever felt. I never wanted to mention it, I know you missed out on so much, but then everyone was talking and I-“

“Nah, go on, ‘S’alright”

“When Reg asked…I was going to say that’s what I picture, when I think of life outside of all of this, me and you in Canada”

“Ya think of that with me?” his voice is low, incredulous awe pulled tight at the edges, he was so busy feeling less than everyone else that he’d missed out on the fact she was thinking of him. She nods, smiling at him, working it out without him needing to say it, figuring out what drove him to snap without asking, under his walls and right in the centre of the internal world he’s built.

“We’d have a house, out near a lake with a wooden porch, and a dog, big scruffy one who likes to catch fish. We’d have coffee together overlooking the water in the morning. You’d work at the local garage, ‘cause you’re good with your hands and tools, wouldn’t have to deal with people all day, fix up all the bikes you’d secretly want...”

He’s staring her at in silence, watching her wistful face glow in the lamplight, he can barely breathe let alone find words knowing that she’s not just dreamt about a life with him, she’s thought it out in detail. He wants it, wants that life with her so badly it aches, thinks it’s the first time he’s wanted anything from life except to get through it.

“I’d work at the bar, play guitar at crappy open mic nights and you’d come for a beer after my shift to walk me home”

He hums, all the response he can manage, guilt chewing at him from the inside, clawing at his mind knowing that he’s taken his own problems out on her, told her he hates her all the while she’s dreaming of something so utterly fucking perfect.

“We’d make dinner together and dance in the living room, go camping at the weekends and make love all night long”

“In another life?” he chuckles, warm and full, knowing he’ll dream about this for the rest of his life.

“In every life…If you’d find me”

“I’d find ya”

-

He runs her a bubble bath, still amazed and confused that he can, that they’ve spent months on the road starving and struggling and here there’s a pantry that has bubble bath. The flowers from Aarons front garden are perched in a glass of water by the bed, the lamps turned off and the doors are locked up as tight as they can be. He’s insistent that he shows his apology, but he’s never had a way to do it outside these walls, nothing beyond words and affection and his experience with what women might like is limited at best.

He stands in the doorway, watching as she wraps herself in a dressing gown. He wonders idly if the amount of love he feels for her could kill him; he feels it so deeply in his bones that he physically isn’t sure it should be able to fit inside of one person. He feels it explode warmth around his body when she shuffles forward to rest her head on his chest.

“You know you don’t have to do all of this? I’m not mad”

Later, when he’s apologised again, reassured her and comforted her and she’s convinced him he’s worth loving in return, he takes them both to bed. Touches her with soft, repentant hands that have always been gentle, hands that are gentle exactly because he knows how dangerous they can be. Atonement seeping from every inch of him as he inches home inside of her, cherishes the contended sigh she lets out at the feel of him. He could never hate her, not even if he tried.

He stills when he bottoms out, rests his forehead against hers as her hips press against his firmly, dragging him as deep as he can go.

“Wha’ ya see in me, anyway?” he whispers against her lips, full of self-doubt.

She looks into him with an intensity that almost hurts, brings her hands to the sides of his face, makes sure he believes her as sincerely as she believes his apology.

“Everything”

[m0nsterqzzz]

Happy Wife Happy Life

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pairing: Clarisse La Rue x fem!reader

summary: being Clarisse's "wife" will always have it's perks

a/n: honestly don't know how to feel about this but I'm tired. anyway, kinda hate the ending. and my writing lol.

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Love is the greatest thing.

At least, in your eyes it is.

It can bring the strongest people to their knees, risking their lives or others lives just so that they can keep their person happy. It's always been amazing to you.

Not so much in your best friend Clarisse's. She'd much rather have the glory of being the strongest kid in school, or be feared by your classmates. "Love is stupid." She always tells you while she watches you study under the willow tree she likes climbing.

"No, it's not. It's powerful. You like powerful things don't you?" You'd say back with an airy laugh, then forcing her to come back down from the branches so you can help her with her math homework.

She's heard lots about the emotion called jealousy, but she'd never truly felt it until she saw Holly Bracken kiss your cheek during recess one day. The tightening of the chest, the way her throat went dry and she clenched her fist by her side from the other end of the black top and tried to stop herself from throwing the basketball in her hands towards the blonde girl's head. It wasn't a feeling Clarisse liked, and the feeling only went away when you were laying in her arms under the tree after school that day.

That warm afternoon, she'd asked you to marry her with a paper ring, one that you cherished for a whole week until it got caught in something and broke. You'd obviously said yes, the fact that you had a huge crush on her not exactly helping as you forced yourself to remember she was obviously kidding. Sealing the marriage with I do and then placing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand like she'd seen done in the romantic movies her mother likes watching, you were officially hers. As long as you were her wife, Holly Bracken could no longer kiss your cheek with that ugly smug smile.

She went on to make sure of that, introducing you as her wife to anyone and everyone that was willingly to listen. You two were young, and nobody took it quite seriously until she saved up almost a full year's allowance money to buy you a nice looking- but still cheap- promise ring from the jewelry store downtown. It was a silent promise, one that she eventually voiced as you were sleeping over at her house.

"I'll be with you forever." She'd whispered in your ear, and you foolishly believed her.

She was gone three weeks later.

You didn't get a phone call, an email, or even a letter. She just....disappeared.

Her family stopped answering the door for you, seemingly purposefully avoiding you in town. It was months before you finally gave up, and it was obvious to anyone that looked hard enough you were slowly becoming a shell of yourself without her. Without your girl.

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

The only thing in your life that is weirder than Clarisse's mysterious disappearance, was the fact that a boy just told you you're a child of one of the Greek gods. You couldn't believe him. You'd learned about the gods in school, but there was no fudging way they were real. You'd only finally agreed to go to some place called Camp Half Blood when he rolled up one of his pant legs to reveal furry goat legs. Nothing will ever be weirder than that.

Just in time too, because right after you left the school building and started sprinting towards the forest across from the place, some giant winged creature that no one else seemed to see crashed through a window and started flying towards you.

Your protector, someone you learned is a satyr named Joey, lead you to camp with minimal death, which you learned is very rare when it comes to leading a demi-god to camp. It didn't help with the newly installed fear inside you, but you just simply nodded along with what he was saying as your eyes scanned the crowds of campers that are doing their own thing below the hill you stand on.

The moment you step past what Joey calls Thalia's tree, all eyes are on you. A new camper means special events so they feel welcome which means more fun for the campers and the drama of figuring out who their godly parent is. 

You don’t have any belongings other than the clothes on your skin and the school pencil that’s brought you a strange sense of comfort on your long trip. A female camper with blonde hair and gray eyes comes up and introduces herself as Annabeth, helping you to the “Hermes” cabin to give you a camp t-shirt and new pants. She explains all the new campers go there, at least until they get claimed, which means the kids in there are either children of Hermes, unclaimed, or new just like you. 

Since everyone is gone doing daily activities, you decide to just change in the cabin. It’s peaceful, the sound of campers laughter, birds in the trees.

Your blissful silence is broken when someone tightly wraps their arms around you from behind you and lifts you up in the air with a squeal, your hands flying to cover your bra-covered chest. “What the hell?!” You scream, but the profanities you were going to yell out die down in your throat when the person sets you down and you turn around to see Clarisse.

She doesn’t look much different, her hair a little bit grown out and her band t-shirts and jeans have been replaced by camouflage pants and an orange camp half blood shirt similar to the one you’re trying to put on. You’re so starstruck that you just stare, her arms still loosely wrapped around your waist as you stand there in only a bra and jeans. “Clar?” She nods, grinning brightly as she pulls you into yet another hug.

You’re much more aware this time, pushing her away harshly as you hurry to put on the shirt and then leave the cabin with a quick roll of your eyes. The curly haired girl is hot on your tail, attempting to grab your wrist to stop you before you pull it away as if she’s burned you. Her face is full of hurt, but your voice shows the same amount as you ask, “Why didn’t….why didn’t you call? Or email? Or-or send me a fucking letter? Just to let me know you were okay? That you came here.”

She sighs, eyes full of regret as they fall to look at her doc martens so she doesn’t have to see your sadness. “I couldn’t call you because a phone call is like sending a message out to any monsters that could be listening and find out where we are. Email, I don’t have any electronics cuz of the whole call thing.”

“And letter? I bet monsters don’t know how to read Clar.” The girl is silent for a minute, and as the silence continues is when you realize she doesn’t have an answer for you. You scoff, beginning to walk to who knows where again before she runs to catch up with you.

“I’m sorry, okay? I was scared. Gods, I was scared.” The worlds tumble out of her mouth before she can stop them, and the campers around you fall silent as they stare with mouths agape in shock.

“Scared? What’s there to be scared of? It’s just me.” She nods, wordlessly reaching out to hold your hand. You let her this time and she feels relief flood through her. “Scared. I was scared….scared that you would hate me for leaving. I mean, what kind of woman leaves her wife?” She attempts a small laugh, and she takes it as a win that the corners of your mouth twitch upwards in the start of a smile. “I promised you forever and then left without another word. You had been looking at me through rose colored glasses our entire lives, I was scared those glasses were shattered. It’s not an excuse though. I should’ve sent you a letter, told you I was okay and told you how much I missed you.”

A small smile works its way onto your face, but she can still see the sadness in your eyes and she hates it. She hates it when you're sad. “Come here angel.” The girl hesitantly pulls you into her arms, almost crying when you relax into her hold and hug her back before she remembers where you guys are and how many campers are staring in shock at how sweet she’s acting.

“You have to understand that I’m still mad Clar. Even if you were scared, I spent years living in fear you were dead.” You mumble against her shoulder as you grip onto her like she’s going to disappear again if you let go.

The girl nods in agreement, cradling your head to her chest as she glares at the campers in an attempt to get them to leave you two alone. They do it.

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

Clarisse brings you to her cabin, cuddling with you in her bed as she tells you anything and everything that has happened over the past. She’s a child of Ares, and you spend several minutes that it makes sense after the amount of times she threatened other kids by saying she should hang them from the top of the flagpole. 

By dinner time, it’s like no time has passed, and everyone’s eyes are on you as you two walk in with her arm casually placed on your around the back of your waist as she leads you to her table where her siblings are trying not to make fun of her. After a lot of begging and threats, Chiron agreed to let you sit at the Ares table for your first week at camp. “Hey guys.” Her happy tone is a rare one around her by the look on their faces, the smile even rarer as she sits you down next to her spot on the bench. “This is my wife.”

The whole room goes silent, all eyes trained on you as your eyes dart up to stare at her. “What are you-” She cuts you off with amusement dancing in her brown eyes.

“What do you want to eat, honey?” Clarisse asks you, and a son of Ares you know as Mark scoffs before he says, “The last time I asked you to get me food, you poured your drink in my lap and told me it wasn’t your job.”

The smile falls from your friend's face as she glares at him. “That’s because it isn’t my job.”

“Then why are you getting her food?” 

“Because a happy wife equals a happy life alright? Now shut the fuck up.”

The smile is back as she turns to face you again, taking your order before she leaves to get that and her own food. 

The rest of the campers go back to their meals, though they’re clearly gossiping about Clarisse’s supposed wife as they eat. It doesn’t make you feel very happy, but all the doubt is gone as your girl comes back and sits down next to you, setting the food down before her hand falls to hold your hand under the table the way she used to during lunch at school.

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

A little bit later, you finish eating and join in the group of campers leaving the dining hall towards the campfire with Clarisse walking beside you. “My legs hurt.” You mumble while leaning closer to her. She doesn’t miss a beat as she picks you up bridal style, casually carrying you to the bonfire like you weigh absolutely nothing. Smiling at the sound of your laughter, she sets you down on one of the logs surrounding the fire. “What was that for? I could’ve walked.” You say as she sits down next to you before pulling you into her lap.

“What kind of wife would I be if I let you walk around while in pain?” She grins before leaning her head on your shoulder. She seems happy, and you recently learned she hasn’t felt that way in a very long time so you simply smile before leaving a kiss on her forehead. Her fingers lace with yours, her thumb caressing the back of your hand as she talks to her brother. It’s like no time has passed. Although you’re still upset, it’s nice to have her again.

Clarisse makes you guys some smores, a few people coming up every once and a while to introduce themselves and your friend introduces you the same way every time; “This is my wife.” By the time you’re making your way to the Hermes cabin with her walking by your side like a bodyguard, everyone in camp is aware of the “marriage”.

“I wish you could come stay in the Ares cabin.” She mumbles into the crook of your neck on the porch of Hermes cabin, and you chuckle while rubbing circles on her back. “I think you annoyed Chiron enough for one day.”

The daughter of Ares sighs, reluctantly nodding as she gives you a gentle squeeze before walking away. You watch her walk to her cabin for a few seconds, a permanent smile on your face before you walk inside your crowded cabin.

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The next morning, it’s time for you to join in the routine of chores and training. It seems tiring, but Clarisse is by your side to help you with anything and everything so it’s okay.

“You’re getting better, hon.” She repeats for the 100th time in an hour, and your trust in her words is slowly fading as you sling the sword in your hands awkwardly towards the dummy covered in greek armor in front of you. The girl seems to notice your mood dropping, so she sighs and then stands up and walks towards you. You think she’s going to tell you to take the armor off just stop trying, but you shouldn't have. Clarisse was never one to tell you to give up on something. Instead, she places her hands on your hips, brown eyes straying from your face as she gently moves your body until you're standing in the correct way. You feel like clay under her grip, simply allowing her to position you as your face scans her features. 

It’s like something pulling you to lean in, and it’s only when you're inches away from her face do you realize she is leaning in too. As if realizing where you are and what you guys are doing, she clears her throat and backs away, her hands following to rest at her sides. “There. Try again.” She begins to awkwardly walk away, her confidence gone as she almost trips over some armor left on the floor by another camper.

You nervously laugh, taking a deep breath before you slash the sword forward again. The sword feels much more natural in your hand, and it’s almost like an instinct as you angle it so it hits the unprotected parts so it cuts open the material. 

Your friend cheers, rushing over to you and easily lifting you off the ground like you just won the olympics. Clarisse has always been that way, proud of every thing  you could ever do. With a small laugh, you thank her and finally get her to set you down. “Well done wifey.” The words flow out of Clarisse’s mouth like they’re the most natural thing, and you fake an annoyed sigh.

“You know I’m not your wife right?” You say with a laugh, but she clearly doesn’t find it very funny.

“Then what's this?” Her hand moves to grab your hand, holding it up in front of your face and you try to ignore the way butterflies explode in your stomach from the touch as her eyes lock on yours. With rose colored cheeks- you decide to blame it on the heat and not the feeling of her hand in yours- you finally take notice of what she’s talking about; the ring she bought you when you were kids, snuggly placed on your left hand ring finger. It was a bit too big when you guys were younger, but it fits basically perfectly now.

“It’s a promise ring.” You mumble, walking away to take off the armor and put away the sword. “It’s the closest thing to a wedding ring I could get. And besides, red is my favorite color, the jem is red. It’s basically me, in a ring.” “I didn’t understand a single thing you just said.”

Clarisse sighs, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind the same way she did your first day at camp- though this time she doesn’t lift you up. “Sorry. Let me summarize. You’re my wife, and that is your ring.” You chuckle, turning around in her arms and trying not to think about the way you’re so close you can feel her warm breath on your face. “Fine. I’m your wife.” She takes the win, leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek before she makes her way out of the training grounds to go wash up for lunch.

This girl is gonna be the death of you.

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That night, Clarisse sneaks into the Hermes cabin. She’s used to sneaking out, but she’s never had a reason to sneak into this specific cabin and she almost bursts out laughing when she gets through the window and almost steps on a kid laying on a sleeping bag on the floor. 

She easily manages her way through the sleeping kids to get to your bunk in the corner, cringing every once and a while when floor boards creek. You’re awake, staring at the wall and you reach under your pillow to grab a dagger Annabeth gave you when someone puts a hand on your shoulder and tries to shake you away so you can hold it up against their neck.

“Why the hell do you have a knife to my throat?” Clarisse quietly squeaks out, and you sigh in relief before putting the weapon back under your pillow for safe keeping. “I just…I’m sorry.” You think about telling her about the nightmare you were having not even ten minutes ago, but it looks like she’s already aware of it as she sends you knowing eyes.

“You can make it up to me by following me.” One look into her pleading eyes is all you need to reluctantly agree, and she helps you out of the window and then onto her back so she can carry you to the surprise she set up in the forest.

The sight makes you want to grin and cry at the same time; it’s a picnic set on the cliff overlooking the waterfall you told her was your favorite part of camp, all your favorite foods from the outside world placed accordingly on the blanket. There are little lanterns placed all over, lighting up this specific part of the woods. You can clearly see the stars, one of your favorite things, and the cozy feeling of the date-like setting goes against the summer breeze of the night.

“So? What do you think?” Clarisse nervously asks as you look around in awe. “I….I love it Clar.” You reply, pulling her into a tight hug. “How’d you get all these foods?” You quest with a grin. She innocently shrugs, but she’s got a mischievous look in her eyes that only appears when she does something bad. She won’t tell you that she snuck out of camp the same way she snuck out of her cabin to go to the mortal world, sneaking back in a throwing herself into a bush when Mr. D almost caught her.

She sits down on the blanket, patting the spot next to her and then pulling you into her lap when you sit down. “This is so nice….but why?” “Why?” “Why’d you do it?”

Clarisse chuckles; “Because my wife deserves best.” There it is again, the phrase that brings a blush to your face no matter how many times you hear it. “Well, thank you.” She nods, grabbing a chocolate covered strawberry and taking a hesitant bite before humming in satisfaction. “That’s really good.”

You two spend the rest of the night talking and giggling as you cuddle up to her and eat the delicious foods, and by the end of the night you’re lying with your head in her lap as she runs her fingers through your hair. “One day,” She starts, leaning down to kiss your forehead before she continues speaking; “I’m gonna marry you for real.”

With a small laugh, you nod, staring into her brown eyes as you sigh. “I’m okay with that.” You whisper, and for a second it seems like she’s leaning down again. It’s proven she is when her lips connect with yours. Her lips are slightly chapped since she always forgets to put on chapstick before she leaves the cabin, but that doesn’t matter as she’s kissing you like she’s been starved for years. Technically, she has been.

She pulls away, watching with a nervous smile as you attempt to catch your breath and stare up at her in awe. “Was that-was that okay?” You slowly nod, sitting up and then turning to face her before you grab her face in your hands and kiss her once again. She seems surprised, but she quickly adapts as her hands move to your hips and firmly grip them.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the day you agreed to be my wife.” She whispers as she pulls away and leans her forehead on your own. You giggle, giving her a quick kiss in between love sick giggles. “Me too.”

She begins to talk again, but the sound of hooves galloping near and a loud voice calling out, “Who's there?!” makes her panic. Chiron. You panic as well, and you both messily pick up the empty plates and blanket, shoving it all in the basket and taking your hand in the one that isn't holding the basket.

The galloping is getting closer, and you both begin to run back into the forest- on the way back to camp but still in the opposite direction of Chiron.

You both begin to laugh as you almost trip over a branch, and you have to bite your lip and hold a hand over Clarrise's mouth so Chiron won't hear. 

You eventually make it back to the cabins, and you both slow down to a light jog as you near the Hermes cabin. She brings you back to the still open window, and helps lift you up into the slightly cold room. You take off your shoes, and are about to wish her a goodnight and go to bed when you turn around to see her lips playfully puckered. 

You chuckle, walking back to the window and giving her a small peck on the lips. “Goodnight Clar. and thank you for a wonderful night.” She smiles. “It was only wonderful because you were there. Goodnight angel.” With that, she leaves towards her own cabin, and you're left staring at her leave with a love sick smile and look in your eyes.

At the edge of the forest, Chiron watches the sweet goodnight with a small smile. “Well I'll be damned….Clarisse La Rue is a softy.” He begins walking to his own cabin with a content sigh. “But they better not sneak out again.”

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[eitaababe]

KISS IT BETTER !

ao'nung x metkayina reader.

a/n — sorry guys it's been a reallyyy rough past few days some shit has gone down but here's a lil drabble while i finish a fic 🫶 / also they're like 18 in this for sake of plot !

—

To say you and Ao'nung didn't get along would be an understatement.

You two always argued, no matter how little or how big. From the way your hair was done, to who couldn't hold their breath as long, who was better on an ilu, you name it.

Though, despite you not being able to see eye to eye with him, you were always close with his younger sister. You were attached to the hip ever since children, and you spent practically your whole lives with each other, pretty much growing up together. You also grew close with her family, spending many dinners over at her marui.

So of course, you always had to see her brother.

Tsireya wasn't blind. Pretty much anyone could see the way you two acted around each other. And if they couldn't see it, they could certainly hear it. There wasn't a minute you could be in the same vicinity as each other and not throw insults at each other.

However, nobody really knows how or why you're like that. It's almost as if you were born into the world and just decided to hate each other.

And so you're sitting in between Tsireya's legs, her doing a new hairstyle for your hair and you whining about her brother once more. "I just don't get it," you complained, huffing in annoyance. "He really thinks he can insult me with a face like that! 'You'll never be able to get a boyfriend looking like that, y/n'," you gruffly mimicked, inaccurately impersonating his voice. "As if he's any better! Like you're the one who can't keep a girlfriend. He's projecting, I'm telling you."

Pulling extra tight on a certain braid you yelped, glaring over your shoulder. "Y/n, you seriously have a problem," Tsireya stated, sighing. "I mean if you really hate my brother so much, just don't talk to him. You both are around each other a lot for people who claim to hate each other so much."

"It's not my fault!" You quickly replied. "I swear, he's everywhere. I want to go clear my mind and go for a swim? He's already there. I want to feed the ilus? Apparently he was planning on going on a ride. I want to stop by and have dinner with my best friend? He-"

"Lives there, Y/n. He lives there," Tsireya finished for you. "I'm just saying. He may be my brother, but if he pisses you off that much you don't have to talk to him. He's good at riling people up. Especially you." She commented, finishing your hair and patting your shoulder lightly for you to turn around.

"He could piss anyone off with the things he says," You grumbled, shoulders drooping when you fell under Tsireya's disapproving gaze. "Fine. I'll try to not let him get to me. Starting now."

"Oh that's lovely, because he's right behind you."

"What-"

"Hi sister," he paused, eyes glancing to you in distaste. "Y/n."

"Ao'nung." You acknowledged him blandly, trying to take your friend's advice and not be disturbed by his mere presence.

"Mother wants you home for dinner," He continued, letting out a sigh before going on. "They invited you too." He finished, not sparring a glance your way before turning around and walking back.

"That went better than expected." Tsireya grinned, grabbing your arm and taking you to her own marui.

"Wait until dinner."

Dinner was going better than expected. You and Ao'nung hadn't argued yet, considering you chose to ignore him and he did the same. Your parents had joined the dinner as well, so you had no other choice but to be respectful.

Your calm nature soon disappeared as you heard the words coming from your parents mouths.

"What?" You exclaimed in disbelief, Tsireya sitting next to you with a shocked expression.

"Really, we think it's for the best."

"No offense or anything, but have you met Ao'nung? I can barely stay in the same room with him, nevertheless spend the rest of my life with him!" You complained, ignoring the stern looks from your parents. "It won't work. Me and Ao'nung, we don't work well together."

"For once, I agree." The boy finally spoke, not looking up from the table.

"Y/n, Ao'nung, I know this is unexpected, but we've all talked about it. You would make a great mate for Ao'nung. We'd like you two to be mated soon before Ao'nung chooses a girl us or the clan would not approve of."

You noticed how his jaw clenched at the comment, yet he stayed silent. You closed your eyes, trying to accept your fate. When you both fell silent, everyone got up and started to exit the room. "We'll give you two some privacy."

You watched as they all left out the marui, turning towards the male. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"It's my mother, I doubt anything I would've said would have made a difference."

"Of course it would! You're her son!"

"You're just so stubborn, aren't you?" Ao'nung suddenly shouted, standing up now. "Thinking you can have everything your way? We have duties, y/n. Grow up."

"Clearly, I'm the only one who's thinking rationally right now! How can you be willing to spend the rest of your life with someone you can't stand?"

"Well like it or not, it's happening. Deal with it, because you're not going to change our parents' minds."

"I can't believe you," you scoffed. "I hope they don't expect me to love you. I can't see who would." You walked out furiously, stomping back towards your own marui.

"Oh, you're one to talk!"

The next few days you two kept your separate ways, but both of you knew your parents wouldn't let it stay like that. They'd practically set up a date for you guys, claiming it's so you could 'settle the feud'.

So you woke up, already in a bad mood, putting minimal effort into getting ready. You headed outside your marui, grumbling what sounded like a farewell to your parents, blood boiling at the sight of the boy who was waiting for you on the beach.

"Y/n." He gruffly greeted you, not meeting your eye.

"Ao'nung." You acknowledged him back, mind drifting back to the other night. Were you too harsh with your words? It was possible you could've gotten caught up in the heat of the moment, and if you were forced to spent the rest of your life with him, you should at least try to be civil.

"...how are you?" You inwardly cringed at yourself, making an awkward attempt to make conversation.

He sent a questioning look your way, realizing what you were doing. He almost wanted to laugh at how out of place you looked. He decided to play along, for whatever reason. "Okay. You?"

"I'm good."

The both of you didn't talk much for the rest of the day, but you didn't argue either, so maybe you were showing signs of improvement. You walked along the beach quietly, the occasional tight-lipped smile, or a hum in response to one of your or his attempts to make some small talk.

Your hangouts usually went like that, you'd greet each other and walk, tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. You were too scared to say anything about it, or change the newly made routine, until Ao'nung seemingly had enough.

"Y/n," he sighed out tiredly, stopping and turning to face you fully. "This isn't helping us at all. All we're trying to do is not argue every time we're around each other. We're not fixing anything, hell, we're probably making it worse. Even if we can't love each other, shouldn't we be able to get to know one another?"

You stood silent for a moment, considering his offer. "I hate it when you're right," you deadpanned, dropping the 'nice' act. "It's just so irregular. Why would I want to be stuck with you?"

"Cmon, I struck peace and you're insulting me?" He teased, flashing a rare grin to you.

"Stop smiling, people are gonna start thinking you want to be around me." You told him, walking off.

Ao'nung went after you, chuckling to himself. "I won't make it a habit then!"

To everyone's surprise, you were finally starting to get along. You acted like friends, even if neither of you would necessarily admit it. You were spending your time with Tsireya, deeming you'd spent too much time with her brother.

"I can't believe I actually saw you smiling in the vicinity of Ao'nung." She teased, laughing once you rolled your eyes.

"Oh shut up. We're basically going to be with each other for eternity, we had to stop hating each other at some point."

"He was talking about you the other day at dinner, actually. If I didn't know any better I'd say he's taken a liking to you."

"Absolutely not!" You denied, shaking your head. "We're not like that. Like at all. We're just friends now, okay? We don't see each other that way."

"Whatever you say."

What the two of you didn't notice, however, was that the boy heard the two of you talking, heart slightly sinking. Could you really not tell how he felt?

And oddly enough, he felt even more determined to prove how he did.

To your shock, Ao'nung started making advances towards you during your scheduled hang outs. They were subtle, but you noticed the slight flirting, or how his touch would linger on you longer than usual.

You didn't think much of it however, considering you just went from enemies to friends in the span of maybe two weeks. You were right to do so, when you spotted him with another girl one day.

When you first saw them, you really could've cared less. Ao'nung was popular, and knew many people. If he had friends who were girls, it didn't matter. Everyone knew you were each others promised mates, and the word quickly spread since people knew of your dislike for each other.

You trusted Ao'nung, he was not only your betrothed but your duties were to each other, and he wasn't dumb enough to try and change that.

At least you thought.

Their second interaction, you saw the same girl, Mau. She was a sweet girl, you knew her through Tsireya. You watched quietly from afar as the two talked animatedly, large smiles and their laughter heard from where you stood. You hid behind a smaller palm tree, it's leaves shielding you from their view.

You couldn't quite hear what their conversation was, so you settled for just watching. You were shocked when she pressed a kiss to his cheek, and how he turned purple in response. You denied how you felt your heart drop to your stomach, and deemed that their conversation should be private and hurried to leave.

In the midst of rushing out you accidentally walked right into one of the leaves, your lip getting cut in the process. "Oh, fuck." You cursed underneath your breath, hoping no one could see you leave. You sprinted away to another part of the beach, moving over to the marui near the ilus.

Ao'nung squinted his eyes at the sight of someone running away, thinking it oddly resembled you. A wave of adrenaline quickly hit him when he realized you might have seen Mau, and he jumped up in panic. "I'm so sorry, I have to go." He excused himself, rushing after you.

He found you with the ilus, smiling when he heard you talking nonsense to them. He cleared his throat, "You seriously have got to make some new friends."

You froze at his voice, almost turning around but realizing he'd see the wound on your lip. You stayed in place, back turned to him as you kept feeding the creatures. "Don't be salty I have more friends than you, even if they can't talk."

"In your dreams, hun," He teased, sitting down next to you, confused when you turned away from him. Concerned, and a little scared you saw his previous interaction, his head followed yours, trying to meet your eyes. "What's wrong?"

You pursed your lips, turning around and eyes widening when you realized how close his face was to yours. Afraid of talking and showing him your cut you only shrugged, shaking your head.

"Why are you holding your lips like that?" He questioned, making you hot with panic. "It makes you look even more stupid."

"Oh just shut up." You mumbled, figuring there was no way out of this. You lowered your head, but not before he could see your wound.

"What happened?"

You really just wanted to let the ocean swallow you whole.

"I ran into a tree."

"While eavesdropping?" He laughed, seeing the way your head quickly perked up, the caught look on your face.

"I didn't- I mean-"

"Oh don't worry, I know you were just questioning my loyalty. I mean with a face like this, there's loads of girls after me. Had to break many hearts knowing I was promised to you."

"Keep telling yourself that. And if I was testing your loyalty, you definitely failed. Not that I mind, but who lets other girls kiss them when they're promised to someone else?"

"If you're jealous, just say that," he simply shrugged, smirking at you. "I turned Mau down, by the way. Told her I was already to be mated with another."

"Oh," you couldn't help but let out a breath of relief. "Your parents will be happy to hear that."

Rolling his eyes at your ability to not take a hint, he only sighed. "Yeah, sure."

Ao'nung then refocused on your lips, looking at the cut. "You know, we should really do something about that."

"It doesn't hurt that much."

"You should let me kiss it better."

"What?" You exclaimed, looking at him incredulously.

"You heard me."

Not bothering to hear your response his lips pressed against yours gently, in fear of making the cut any worse. His hand came to rest against your jaw as his lips moved slowly. You felt him smile against you before he quickly pecked your lips again, pulling away with a smug look. "Feel any better?"

"I'm not sure, you might have to kiss it better again."

—

a/n — I FINALLY POSTED AGAIN. WRITERS BLOCK IS A BITCH.

[joels-shitty-puns]

Could I make a request please?

Either a Joel or Pedro x Reader, where he is head over heels for the reader who is really bubbly and sweet and happy and a mom friend for everyone but who is oblivious to any romantic overtures whatsoever? And where Joel or Pedro catch them crying for the first time ever and they try and hide it and go back to cooking for the friend group or whatever and Joel/Pedro get the reader to open up about what made them cry and essentially it's that someone turned them down on a dating app and it's just further confirmation that the reader will never find love or actually be a mom? Plus-sized reader preferred but definitely not required? And your choice on if it's smutty or not.

I've been reading your plus sized reader x Pedro series and loving it!!! So much emotion and genuine positivity that I couldn't help but ask for more when I felt a bit down about this today.

All my best!

Dear @jenniferpendragon,

Hi!!! I've never had a request before, I didn't know what to do with myself. Thank you. And thank you so much for your kind words about my musician fic! I'm so glad people like it.

I'm sorry you were feeling down today. If by "this" you mean you experienced the dating app situation, I'm so sorry. Love is out there for you. I know how hard it is to wait, feeling like nobody wants you, but I know it'll happen. Hang in there. ❤️

I hope you like this fic! I liked your prompt and my mind ran wild. It's way longer than I thought it would be and also I'm unsure about it, but hopefully it makes you feel a little better.

___________

Cookies 'n Scream

Pairing: No-Outbreak!Joel Miller x Plus-sized!Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!! MDNI. Poor body image, fat shaming, food guilt, food mentions, unprotected P in V, oral, kissing, fingering, pregnancy mention, baby making sex (?), I think that's all of it but if I missed something let me know.

Other stuff: Reader is AFAB. In case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

This is the first smut I've ever written and published, yikes. Hope it's decent.

__________

"Look what I bought today," you chimed in a sing-song voice while waving the DVD in front of Joel. 

"No way. Zombie Slayer 6?!" Joel and Tommy yelled in unison.

"Yep! You know it!" you beamed. "I say tonight we pop this bad boy in. Tomorrow's Halloween, it's perfect."

"YES!" chimed in Sarah and Ellie, Joel's daughter and adopted daughter, roughly the same ages in their early teens.

"Absolutely not! You two are too young for this gore, you'll be up for weeks." Maria pointedly gave an eyebrow to her husband Tommy. "You guys watch the movie, I'll take the kids and we have a girl's night. We can watch Practical Magic and make cookies. Then tomorrow we'll all go trick-or-treating." The girls were pleased with this compromise and began running up to their bedrooms, chatting frantically about their costumes and which houses were allegedly going to have full-size candy bars this year.

"Really? Zombie movies? They're just kids. They aren't old enough to deal with that kind of thing," Maria said to you, judging your lack of parenting skills.

"Sorry…" you said sheepishly.

Truthfully, Halloween was your favorite holiday and always has been. You loved the spooky aspect of it, but you also loved that you could be anyone you wanted, if only for a night. For once you weren't just "the fat girl" or whatever other mean things people thought about you. You could be Wonder-Woman, or Ariel, the Grim Reaper, or a ghost. You could even eat all the sugary snacks you wanted and nobody questioned it, because Halloween was a time to indulge in candy.

If there's one thing you're sad you didn't get to enjoy on Halloween, it was the thought of being with someone you love. You'd always wanted someone to dress up in a couples costume together. Or go to a pumpkin patch for a cute little date and pick pumpkins together. You'd even dreamed about someday having a little pumpkin of your own. Picking out a little baby costume, taking them out door to door while they tried to say "trick or treat" but didn't quite know how to say such big words yet. The thought of them getting spooked by a scary decoration and running back to their daddy's arms. Your handsome brave husband, holding them close and shushing them, rubbing their little back to make it all okay. Finally the three of you would go home, tuck the little one in, sort through the candy and maybe take some for the parent tax. Then you'd flop down on the bed together before sharing a different kind of treat.

Knocking you out of your daydream, the girls ran down the stairs, backpacks on their backs, still loudly chatting about Halloween. You sighed, Maria taking the kids out towards her house.

Tommy clapped his hands together excitedly and grabbed his phone and keys. "I'm picking us up a pizza. You two better not start this damn movie without me," he warned, gesturing with his fingers from his eyes to yours and then across to his brother's before ducking out the door. You laughed and headed towards the kitchen, starting to make a quick batch of cookies before Tommy returned. Joel stood awkwardly trying to help, but mainly was just sneaking bites of dough. "Knock it off Joel! There won't be any cookies left with you around." You elbowed him while he popped another glob into his mouth with a laugh.

You rolled your eyes while he argued with you. "Whatever. My brother doesn't need these cookies anyway. He doesn't deserve your bakin', darlin'." He ate more dough.

You couldn't help but feel your chest flutter with butterflies at his nickname, but you tried to ignore them. "Oh yeah, and what about me?" You pouted up at him. "Don't I deserve any cookies?" 

He put his finger on his lip as if deep in thought. "Hmmm… I dunno darlin'. Not sure if I could handle you if you get much sweeter." He winked.

"But I guess you deserve some too.." he plopped a wad of dough into your mouth, running his finger on your lip as he pulled his hand away. 

You smiled, cheeks feeling warm, and chewing the soft, sugary dough.

"Oh, Joel. You're too much.." you avoided his eyes, looking down at the mixer and pretending to be busy with the cookies. 

Why can't I get a man like Joel? You thought to yourself.

Two years ago, you had moved into your new house and met your neighbors, Tommy and Maria, Maria still very pregnant at the time. The three of you became fast friends and it wasn't long before you met Tommy's brother Joel. You were instantly enamored with him. His curly brown hair, mixed with silvery gray streaks, and those deep, gorgeous chocolate brown eyes. Although he could be a grump at times, it was mainly with his brother or his job, and he never showed it towards you. To you he was as sweet as the cookies you were eating.

You instantly developed a little crush on him and it seemed like he was over at his brother's house, or yours, more often than not. The two of you spent time together alone as well, watching movies, talking, doing whatever. Things felt so simple with him, and you knew he would always be there if you needed help with anything. With him, you never felt fat. You never felt ugly. You didn't feel self-conscious. You were just you. He was just him. 

As your friendship progressed, your crush developed quickly into love. But you knew deep down there was no way he could ever feel the same. He was too handsome and charming to ever go for a woman like you, so you pushed down your feelings as best as you could, and even tried some dating apps to try and find someone else to fill the empty space in your heart.

What you didn't know was that Joel was absolutely head-over-heels, smitten with you, from the moment he laid eyes on you at his brother's backyard barbecue. Sure he loved his brother, but nobody wants to spend that much time at their sibling's house. He came over constantly, hoping to see you, until eventually you became close enough that he didn't have to make a scene at his brother's house to get your attention. He could just go to yours. 

Tommy constantly teased him about it, and Maria couldn't help but notice the way you looked at Joel either. Even the kids could tell. The girls loved you like a mother, though you'd never see it. It seemed that it was obvious to everyone but you and him. Joel would flirt, try to gently touch you, be sweet, but you never picked up on it. Although you never pushed away his attempts, you never seemed to reciprocate either, so Joel just figured you didn't like him that way. But he couldn't help flirting, touching, staring at you. And if you didn't protest, he didn't plan to stop. He couldn't if he tried.

While the two of you talked, the cookies, what was left of them, baked in the oven. Finally Tommy came in, two large pizzas in hand. "Now I better not see that movie playing! I warned you two."

He noticed the black television screen and wandered to the kitchen. "Good. You waited for me- oh man! You made cookies? My favorite," he said with grabby hands towards the first pan, still cooling on the stove. 

"Now, don't spoil your dinner. You just brought pizza home, let's eat." You shot a knowing look with Joel after the two of you were practically full already with cookie dough.

"Fine. Whatever, mom." Tommy took a plate from you, sliding a piece of pizza onto his plate and heading towards the couch.

_____ 

An hour into the movie, you were all full with pizza and dessert, Tommy in the sofa chair on the side, you and Joel settled into the love seat. You leaned towards his right side, his right arm over the back of your seat. A blanket covered the two of you, and his left hand was crossed over his lap on top of the blanket, hoping you would hold it if you got scared. Whenever a jump scare did happen, you didn't grab for him, but at the slightest flinch, he would palm your knee, rubbing his thumb over you to calm you down. Such a nice guy. I'm so lucky to have him as my friend.

Once when Joel did this, Tommy caught the sight out of the corner of his vision. He rolled his eyes and gave a gagging face. Joel gave him a quick angry brother stare that made Tommy turn back toward the film.

At some point, you felt your pocket buzz. Peering under the blanket at your screen, you saw the little heart notification, letting you know it was one of the dating apps you downloaded. Heart beating faster, you excused yourself saying you wanted to get a drink. Upon entering the kitchen, you quickly opened the notification with shaky hands. You had sent out at least a half dozen matches to people, all turned down the second they saw your profile. The most recent had sent a message as well. "Seriously? Ur gross. Good luck finding anyone to date you lmao." Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked down at your body and pinched the fat of your stomach. You had four apps and had sent countless requests, matches, and swipes. Even guys who were big themselves had turned you down. You looked in the kitchen at the pile of cookies, the mostly empty pizza boxes, the bowl of Halloween candy. If the boys weren't here, you'd toss it all in the trash. You suddenly felt self-conscious. Your clothes were tight, your body was heavy and flabby, and you almost felt nauseous. The first sting of tears welled at your eyes, and you dashed off to your bedroom, hoping to quell these emotions before anyone would notice. You weren't ready to go back to the living room.

After a couple minutes, Joel had paused the TV to wait for your return. "She probably had to pee or something. Said she was gettin' a drink." Tommy nodded and the two of them talked. After about ten minutes had passed, Joel began to worry. Even Tommy began to wonder and finally said "where'd your girlfriend end up? It's been a while."

Joel shook his head at Tommy's name for you, but got up off the couch. "I'll go see what's up." He walked into the kitchen and didn't see you, so he kept walking through the house before finally starting upstairs. "Darlin'? You okay?" He still didn't see you, but upon approaching your bedroom door, he heard a soft sniffle.

He gently tapped on the door with his index finger's knuckle. "Sweetheart?" Your sniffling stopped and you quickly wiped your eyes, trying to hide your tears as he slowly opened the door.

"Hey, sorry, I didn't mean to make you guys wait, I was just changing into some comfier clothes." He noticed you had switched from your favorite dress to some sweats and a baggy hoodie. You still looked beautiful to him, though he was a bit confused at the change. "I'll be right down, why don't you go start the movie again." He crossed the room to sit next to you on the bed. "I'm not going to start the movie. What's wrong, darlin'?" 

You pouted, trying to choke back more tears, but his gentle brown eyes made it hard to keep your emotions inside. Joel cupped your cheek, running his thumb gently under your eyes and catching a tear that made it past your walls. You'd never cried in front of Joel before. You made it a goal of yours to try and hide any sad emotions from people, especially him.

"I don't want to ruin the night, Joel. It's nothing. Let's just go back downstairs. I'll be right behind you."

Joel stood up and nodded his head, walking out the door and closing it gently behind him. 

You didn't think he'd actually leave. But it shouldn't surprise you. Who wouldn't leave you?

An aggressive sob ripped through your chest.

_____

Joel walked downstairs, joining his brother.

"You find her?" Tommy asked.

"Yeah I did. Look, she's not feeling too good right now. I think it's best we call it a night."

"Ah, man. She sick or somethin'?" Tommy asked.

"Yeah somethin' like that. I'll stay and take care of her. Can you maybe keep the kids tonight?" Joel answered, ushering Tommy out the door. Tommy gave him a look, but nodded and walked out the door towards his own house.

Joel closed the door behind him and walked back upstairs, stopping to grab a glass of water for you on the way. He knocked gently again before entering your bedroom, and you turned around, surprised to see him. "Joel? I thought you were watching the movie?"

"Nah, darlin' I could never leave you when you're upset. I sent Tommy home and he's gonna watch the girls tonight. Here, I brought you some water." He sat the water on the nightstand. "Now, you wanna tell me why you're cryin'?" He sat next to you, rubbing your back gently.

You took a sip of the water, set it back down on the nightstand, and sighed, looking down at your hands in your lap which held your cell phone.

"Well, I uh…" you cleared your throat gently. "I recently joined some dating apps..."

Joel's heart took a slight stab, but he pushed it down. You're the one needing comfort, not him.

"I guess, I dunno… I know it's kinda silly, but I've been feeling kinda lonely and y'know... I'm getting older. I'm running out of time to have babies. But, I really just want someone to call mine. Someone to laugh with and go on dates with and…" you tapered off, not wanting to admit your desire for cuddles, kisses, and love-making. 

"Oh, sweet girl," he held you in his arms. "That's nothing to feel shy or silly about. It's natural to want those things. But why are you cryin'? Did somethin' happen?"

"I just… I haven't gotten any matches. Everyone I've sent anything to has denied me, and-" you sniffled and Joel pulled you tighter. "Shh, shh, sweet girl, it's okay. Those people on those apps, they don't know what they're missin' out on. They don't see how beautiful and sweet y'are. They wouldn't know how to treat you right anyway. If they can't see how wonderful you are, they don't deserve to be with ya anyway."

"Thank you Joel…" you muttered. "But… it's not just that. I got a message when we were watching the movie and I went into the kitchen to read it, and-" you handed him your phone with a sniffle. Joel pulled away from you, holding the phone back a bit to read it with his bad vision. As he read it, his jaw and fists clenched. It may have been the first time Joel saw you cry, but it was also the first time Joel got angry when it was just the two of you.

"If I knew where this asshole little boy lived, I'd go over there right now and kick his ass for saying something like that to you" he seethed. "I can't believe anyone would say something like that to you."

You picked at a hangnail on your finger, still staring at your lap. Finally Joel took a breath and looked at you again. "Darlin'. You don't - you don't believe that guy do you?" He asked while rubbing your back again.

"Maybe…" you felt tears run down your cheeks. "I mean, he's right, isn't he? I'm not attractive or skinny. Nobody wants me, not even any of these guys on this app. Even the guys who aren't skinny don't want me either."

"Sweetheart. That's just not true. Look at me-" he lifted your chin with his left hand, right arm still holding you close. You hesitantly met his gaze, your wet eyes looking into his gentle browns. "Those men, if you even wanna call them that, they wouldn't know what beautiful was if it slapped them across the face. You're the most beautiful, sweet, funny woman I've ever met. Any man would be lucky to have you." He took a deep breath before admitting, "I'd be lucky to have you."

"What-?" You interrupted him.

"Darlin'... I never want to push your boundaries, but you don't see how often I flirt with you, tease you, and touch you? You don't see how smitten I am with you?" You frowned, brows furrowing as you picked through your memory. "I thought you were just a nice guy. Just a friend. I didn't… I didn't think you could ever like me as more than a friend, so I just ignored the butterflies I got around you." 

You searched his eyes, waiting for a joke, or your alarm to go off and wake you up from this dream.

"Sweetheart, I've been in love with you since just about the time I saw you walk across my brother's lawn towards me. I just figured y'wasn't interested in me that way."

"Joel," you laughed. "I've felt the same way."

He smiled, once again tilting your chin, yet this time pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was gentle, but held so much love and meaning, that the two of you couldn't help but smile in the middle of it. He pulled away, "and by the way, y'aren't old either. If anyone's old here, it's me. But if you want babies, I'll give you all the babies you want. But you already got two girls who love you. Sometimes I think they even love y'more than me," he laughed.

You smiled at him and nodded "I do love those girls like they're my own. But I would still like a little baby someday too."

He kissed you again, more passionately this time, licking your lip until you opened up and let your tongues dance together. He pulled away, running his nose across your jaw before stopping at your ear. "Only one way to give you that, darlin'." He gently bit your earlobe before kissing down your neck. 

You sighed. "Joel… please."

"Please, what darlin'?" He purred, kissing your clavicle through your baggy shirt. 

"Please, make love to me" you answered breathlessly, tipping your head back so he could better access your neck. 

"Take these baggy clothes off then, baby. Lemme see you," he gave you one last kiss on the lips before the two of you began undressing, stopping every few seconds to share grabby kisses. Once undressed, he pulled you into him and kissed you deeply, your hands on his chest. With a swift move, he tumbled the two of you sideways so that you were now on the bed, him on his back and you straddling his hips. You leaned down, kissing his lips, while the slight movement against his waist caused you both to moan at the feeling. "Baby I've wanted this for so long. Let me take care of you," Joel whispered, thumb stroking your cheek. He flipped the two of you over, slithering down towards your waist, where you spread your legs for him. He groaned, looking at how evident it was you wanted him, pumping his already hard cock a few times. Flattening himself on his stomach, he gently touched your thighs and began to kiss your legs. "Y'sure you still want this, baby?" 

"Yes Joel, please" you answered, tense with anticipation. Without a beat, he tipped his head down, licking a stripe up your slit. You let out a sigh, hips bucking toward his face. "I know baby, I know." His low timbre vibrated through your core. He gave a quick peck to your clit before swirling his tongue around it and heading downwards, licking between your folds while his nose continued to put pressure on your clit.

His fingers slid through, touching your entrance in a questioning way. "Yes, Joel, please" you cried, wiggling closer, your hands tugging at his hair. 

With your pleas, he inserted his finger, curling upwards before adding a second and finally hitting that spot inside you that made your breathing catch in your chest. He stroked, while still licking gently, occasionally sucking on your clit. Before long you were gripping the sheets with one hand, his hair in your other, as you finally tumbled into your orgasm. "So beautiful, baby" he coaxed, licking you through the waves of pleasure. 

"Think you're ready for me?" He looked up at you over your plush tummy. "Yes, Joel, please I'm so ready."

He stalked over your body, kissing his way up. He kissed your vulva, "I love this," he purred. He kissed your stomach, running his hands across your sides. "I love this," he licked. "I love these," he massaged your breasts, kissing each nipple. "I love you" he finally looked you in the eyes, kissing you on the lips deeply. 

"I love you too." You kissed him back, running your hands through his messy hair, down his broad shoulders and back. His hand snaked around, grabbing his cock and giving a few strokes through your folds until he was wet enough. Finally he pushed against your entrance, slowly entering you, giving you enough time to adjust to his size. Your fingers clawed at his back as he finally pushed all the way in, the two of you sighing in relief. 

Your body adjusted, and with a kiss to his nose, you prompted him to move. "Okay Joel, I'm ready."

Slowly, he began to thrust, pulling slowly out and gently pushing back in, eventually picking up to a pleasurable pace. He kissed you like his lips couldn't be away for longer than a few seconds, and it didn't take much before you were barreling towards your second release of the evening. "I'm almost there, Joel" you kissed, grabbing him around his back. "Me too, baby. Come for me." His thrusts were getting sloppy, but you could tell he was holding himself back for you. His fingers drifted over your clit, giving a few circular strokes and causing you to shudder around him, your eyes slamming shut with a moan. He followed right behind you, a couple messy strokes before pumping into you, filling you up and working you both through it. As the two of you came down from your high, he kissed you passionately, holding you like you were the only thing in the world. 

The two of you lay on your sides, you snuggled into his chest, his chin resting on your head before eventually he became soft and slipped out of you. You both sighed at the loss, but held each other until you rolled out to use the restroom and clean up. When you returned from the bathroom, you asked if he wanted to stay and he said yes. 

You lent him an extra toothbrush and the two of you stood side by side, brushing your teeth and stealing glances at each other in the mirror with matching lovesick smiles. Things felt domestic and comfortable as the two of you walked back to bed, sharing soft kisses snuggled to each other. Having completely forgotten why you were upset earlier, you fell asleep curled into his arms, full of love and hope for the future with a man you loved. 

_____

The next morning, you woke up to the smell of coffee brewing and breakfast cooking. You strolled down the stairs and saw Joel, wearing just his boxers and tee shirt, grabbing a slice of toast from the toaster. 

At the sound of your steps, he turned and smiled softly. "Morning, baby."

"Good morning, handsome," you replied, pressing a kiss to his lips. 

"I could get used to that," Joel replied, squeezing your ass and pulling his face away to look in your eyes.

"Joel! You devil," you giggled, gently smacking his arm. "You ain't seen nothing yet, baby" he nibbled your jaw.

After the two of you ate breakfast, you shared a shower, and he threw on a pair of extra clothes he keeps in his car. It would be hard to keep his visit a secret from his brother with his car still in your driveway, but as far as Tommy was concerned, you were sick and Joel was taking care of you.

The two of you made the walk over to Tommy's house to get the girls and participate in Halloween activities for the day. Walking in the door, Tommy pulled you into a hug. "Hey, we were worried about you! Are you feeling better? Were you sick?"

You looked up at Joel, sharing a knowing look. "I was just a little upset about something, but I'm feeling much better now," you smiled. 

Tommy gasped. "FINALLY!!!!" He threw his hands in the air while Maria grinned. 

"Cough it up Tommy!" Sarah held out her hand to her uncle. "You know I had October." He handed her a five dollar bill.

"You bet money on us?" Joel asked in disbelief, rubbing your back. 

"Obviously. You guys have both been pining since you first met," Ellie answered, rolling her eyes. "It was too entertaining for us to interfere though," Sarah added with a smirk.

You stared down at your shoes, feeling embarrassed, but Joel grabbed your hand. You smiled up at him and it felt like everything was aligned. "Yep, we finally took the step. And now I get to do this whenever I want," Joel pulled you into his arms for a deep kiss. 

"UGH. GROSS, DAD." Ellie and Sarah groaned, walking out of the room.

You both laughed, sharing a smile and heading towards the group to get ready for Halloween with your family.

[kairiscorner]

rewatching beauty in the beast healed my inner child and fed me with more ideas

how could she ever want me? – miguel o'hara x fem!reader drabble

sweat trickled down his forehead as he anxiously paced back and forth around his office, mumbling to himself how imperfect everything seemed right then and there, how he couldn't get anything done right at the moment, and... how his claws wouldn't retract no natter how hard he tried. he mumbled to himself as he tried calming himself down, but no matter what mantra he whispered to himself left his lips nor what peaceful thought he tried to muster entered his mind–his claws, and now his fangs, were baring and were not going to retract any time soon.

like a wild animal, he paced around the room as if he were biding his time, waiting for his prey to emerge from their habitat to tackle them down and devour them–but his true intentions were nothing of the sort; miguel... was waiting for your answer to his invitation to dine with him, a very rare occurrence for him because he's never dined with anyone else before, at least not with someone he cared about, in a long, long, long time. "might wanna do those breathing exercises, mig; calm down." lyla told miguel as she played a classical song for miguel to calm down to, but it was futile–his overthinking and anxiety were consuming him. "what's taking her so long?" miguel asked aloud as he picked at his claws, forcing them to retract by himself.

lyla shrugged. "i invited her this morning, surely she's had all evening to think about it–where is she?" he asked in a growl, his patience running thin as he was still stressing out about how his claws and fangs weren't retracting on command. "try to calm down, mig, she's only known you for a few weeks." lyla reminded him as miguel slumped down on a big plush chair and dragged his claws across the felt arms of the chair–tearing it open and forcing the stuffing to come out in what appeared to be white tufts of fuzzy snow. miguel sighed as he sank further into the chair and furrowed his eyebrows together. "what's a few weeks when she's got my whole heart in the palm of her hand...? she's... she's intelligent, charming, strong, defiant–she's so beautiful, and, i... well, look at me!" miguel exclaimed in a self-deprecative roar as his eyes turned a deep shade of red the moment he set eyes on the virtual assistant.

lyla wasn't sure on what to tell miguel to calm him down; though the AI assistant was usually prepared for any and all interactions with miguel, this was one moment where she wasn't sure on what to say or do for him to make him feel better, because nobody had control over your emotions or opinions towards miguel. "the best you can do is hope," lyla said as miguel bared his fangs and lowly grunted all angrily. "and control your temper, mig." she reminded him as miguel balled up his clawed fist. his nostrils flared and he shut his eyes tight, he hated how lyla was right all over again... he took a deep breath in and out, and kept this up until his shoulders weren't tense anymore, and his claws were retracting. ultimately, succumbing to the notion that everything else was up to you was kind of calming miguel down, and he was slowly beginning to accept so.

"...i'll try." he told the AI assistant as you reappeared in the front of his mind again–with your beautiful face looking into his own and smiling up at him all charmingly–how could he say no to you? you were so perfect, so lovely, so beautiful; and he was just... him. how could you ever love a beast like him, right?

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

[lottielovelace]

công chúa

(ghost x könig's-sister!reader)

summary: You're just a student trying to make through med school with your sanity intact. That last thing you needed was to be kidnapped to serve as a hostage for a half-brother you've never met.

At least the special forces operative here to help is cute.

originally posted on ao3 (wordcount: 3.8k)

Rating: T

Relationships: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader, Kate Laswell x her wife (I call her Jean), König & Reader <- PLATONIC

Ao3 Tags: meet cute! in a prison camp / First Meetings / tries to follow canon characterization / less so canon events/timeline / so some things (like the villains) are VERY vague / Past Suicide Attempt / Undercover Simon "Ghost" Riley / Unmasked Simon "Ghost" Riley / (Temporarily) / reader has a name & backstory but I tried to make it unobtrusive

this is a part of a series

Author's note: I do write this story with a specific OC (check the series masterpost if you want a full breakdown of her) in mind just so characterization is consistent, but I tried to make it possible for you to replace her with whoever you imagine. I do have to explicitly mention details unique to the OC (most obvious example here being her ethnicity and name [Elise Veidt]), but for the most part I'll try to keep things open ended (ex: using "your hair" instead of "your dark hair").

Also, as I mentioned, the OC's ethnicity (half-Vietnamese) is pretty plot relevant this chapter, but if that disrupts your reading flow, feel free to mentally replace it with whatever makes sense for your own personal read-through. I'm not used to writing in second person, so the verb tenses are kinda screwy.

Also this is in the tags but TW: DISCUSSION OF A PAST SUICIDE ATTEMPT (character has for the most part fully recovered)

công chúa:

People could be so fucking stupid sometimes. Bold and stupid. Newbies especially. New recruits—or in this case, new criminal organizations—always think they’ll be special. The exception to the rule.

Take for example, this new group who had the bloody brilliant idea of trying to control special forces (and a handful of top PMCs) by kidnapping anyone ransom-worthy they could get their grubby little hands on. Which meant a lot of missing parents, kid siblings, and SOs.

Ghost couldn’t tell if they actually thought that would work or if this was just some distraction. Perhaps an intimidation ploy or a small part of some greater plan. Either way, in reality, all they ended up with was a whole bunch of pissed-off—and very well trained—soldiers, many of whom were willing to do anything to get their loved ones back. Even allying with their greatest rivals. Ghost didn’t predict to end up working with KorTac of all bedfellows, but even their lads weren’t safe. 

In the past month, he'd had to bear witness to his comrades and competitors getting wrecked, worried sick over their nearest and dearest. Laswell might’ve single-handedly revived the tobacco industry and he’d never seen Johnny so torn up.

Ghost himself had been spared any grief. He would’ve liked to pretend that it was because his mask had protected his identity so well, but the reality was much simpler and bleaker. He had nobody to take. Tommy and Joseph and Beth and Mum were all already six feet under. Nothing would ever change that.

That being said, the mask wasn’t useless.

The hostagers had done extensive research into all their personal lives. They needed to in order to find out who they could kidnap and how. They had become intimately familiar with every combatant their cobbled alliance could send—with one glaring exception.

They certainly knew about Ghost, but not even they knew Ghost’s face—at least according to the dossier smuggled to the Task Force.

After that was discovered, going undercover was less of a choice and more of a duty.

----------

“Jean?”

The woman’s head jerked up at the whispered sound of her name. Finding no one in front of her, she swiveled. Her eyes landed on an idle balaclava-ed guard.

“Don’t look at me,” the guard commanded. He followed his own advice, keeping his gaze trained on the horizon. His voice was low and rough. Familiar.

Jean Laswell hazarded one last glance at him. She squinted, trying to place where she'd seen him before.

A stifled gasp rang out as her eyes widened in recognition.

“Ghost?”

“Keep your voice down, I’m undercover.”

Jean tried to keep her body language innocuous, eyes now glued to her own clasped hands. The last thing she wanted was to blow Ghost's cover.

“It’s good to see your face— or er, hear your voice.” Pleasantries aside, she went straight to the first question on her mind, the one that had plagued her sleepless nights. “How’s Kate?”

"Smoking like a chimney, but otherwise holding up. She misses you."

"Are you here to…"

"Not yet. KorTac and the team are planning a mutual offensive, but we need more intel before exfil becomes viable. Intel I was tasked with collecting."

His tone didn't reassure her.

"But…"

"I ran into a little roadblock. I was supposed to receive, memorize, and orally deliver crucial information about the compound’s layout and security flaws. We’d had some limited online communication with our informant, but couldn’t get anything sensitive past the security systems. So I volunteered to get it directly. Unfortunately, we didn’t know that our informant only speaks Vietnamese, Cantonese, and some very broken Russian. The dictionary he’d been previously using isn’t complex enough for the level of detail we need. Our shared Russian skills aren’t much better. I can’t leave until I have the intel memorized and I can’t memorize it until we find a translator."

"Could you leave and come back with a translator? A digital one maybe if you can't get anyone else past the guards?"

Ghost shook his head, “They know that we're trying to infiltrate them. They’re very strict about what technology gets in and out. Besides, my cover is only so good. I should be able to get a believable excuse to leave camp, but the scrutiny required for re-entry would compromise it.”

Jean pursed her lips in thought, running over the possibilities. She paused, half thinking out loud.

“I think the princess speaks Vietnamese.”

“Princess?” Ghost’s eyes widened beneath his mask. Shit, no one told him they'd taken someone so high profile. That significantly complicated security procedure. “I thought all their targets were lowkey.”

“No, no, she’s not royalty. She’s a med student. It’s just a nickname,” Jean hastily corrected with an embarrassed laugh. “We have a lot of those here. We get kinda bored.”

Ghost silently thought back on his own POW experiences.

“Things could be a whole lot worse than boredom.”

“The perks of being a hostage," Jean responded dryly. "Need us in one piece.”

“So where’s this ‘princess’ of yours?”

“There,” Jean pointed at the upper level of the compound's eastern turret. “You can see where the nickname comes from. She’s in solitary, but she has a window that we talk to her through during yard time.”

“What'd she do?” Unless the hostage takers were worse than he thought, they wouldn’t put someone in solitary for shits and giggles.

“She’s… a special case."

“Who’s she tied to?”

“That’s the thing. We don’t know. Not even she knows.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I know I’m here because of Kate. Ritchie’s here because of his uncle. Troy because of his brother. Eileen… could be her nephew, but it’s probably Soap. But Elise—that’s her name, Elise Veidt. Do you know any Veidts in Special Forces or KorTac?”

“Not to my knowledge, no. Could it be her boyfriend?”

Jean shook her head, “No. The common theory is an uncle or half sibling. Both her parents were civilians, but her father had family and an ex-wife on the other side of the Atlantic. She has no idea where they are now or if they’re even still alive, but it seems the most likely—if not the only—possibility. Plus she was single when she was discovered.”

Ghost's brow furrowed.

“Discovered? What do you mean by that?”

“There was… an incident. It ended with her being taken into custody.”

Ghost wanted to press for more detail, but Jean flashed him a look that stopped him in his tracks. She was married to Laswell, and that doesn't happen without being able to hold her own in an argument.

“It’s not my story to tell." Her tone was measured, but Ghost could tell this was non-negotiable to her. “She’s a good kid. Just got in a bit of a rough patch. Along the way she had her blood tested and it must’ve pinged… something. Next thing she knows, she’s getting transferred. They refuse to tell her where. When she resists, she gets knocked out and wakes up here.”

“That still doesn’t explain the isolation.”

“We think that whoever she’s related to, it must be someone important. Or someone very dangerous. Someone they’re scared to anger.”

“Then why did they kidnap her if they’re so bloody afraid of pissing the bugger off?”

“Taking her was probably a calculated risk. Returning her damaged a death sentence. They wanted to make sure she doesn’t get hurt, either by her own hand or someone else’s.”

----------

Ghost cautiously approached the cell door. According to the directory, this was “Detainee #934287: VEIDT, Elisabeth.” He peered through the grate, careful not to get too close to the opening—he knew firsthand how solitary confinement could warp the mind and liked having both his eyes intact.

From what he could see, the cell had a tiny cot, stripped of its sheets on the left. On the right was a wash basin and bucket. In between was a small window—just large enough to stick your face out of. It wasn’t the worst cell Ghost had seen, but it wasn’t homey either. It also appeared to be empty.

“What the—” he muttered under his breath.

The low rumble of his voice almost made you jump from your position, sitting leaned against the door. The window was your only connection to the outside world, but it also made your cell freezing so you tried to stay as far away from it as possible when there was no one outside to talk to. You paused, confused then intrigued. You didn’t think they had a British guard. Slowly, you got up.

He was closer than you assumed. Right up against the door, you almost had to suppress the urge to jump again. You silently mourned the fact that such a pretty pair of eyes were wasted on some terrorist dipshit.

Still, you were bored enough that anything seemed intriguing.

“You’re new.”

“You’re Elise, right?”

Your lips quirked with all the cockiness of someone who knew they couldn’t be touched.

“Shouldn’t they have already debriefed you on that?”

“The only person who’s briefed me on you was Jean.”

Your eyes narrowed. You may have only been able to communicate through a tiny window, but you trusted Jean. You knew her. She wouldn't rat on you, not without a fight.

“What did you do to her?”

“Nothing,” his voice grew even gentler. Soft in a way that commanded you to hang on every word. “I’m here to help.”

Attractive voice and eyelashes aside, you were still unimpressed.

“Really?”

“I'm on a reconnaissance mission for Special Forces. I was supposed to memorize this file. I wasn’t told it was going in Vietnamese.”

You perked up at this. Finally, things were making a little sense.

“I speak Vietnamese.”

“So I’ve heard.”

You took one last look at him, trying to figure out if this was a trick or some sick game. Then again, if it was, what would they even do? Your captors didn’t seem allowed to punish you physically, and mentally there wasn’t much more they could do. Fuck it, you had nothing to lose.

You reached out your hand, “Gimme.”

He slipped you a folded up piece of paper. You unfolded it to reveal an annotated set of blueprints.

“Pen or pencil?” For all you know, he could be picky about that sort of stuff.

The man stood up to dig for something in his vest. You quietly realized that he’d been bending down to look you in the eye. This man, whoever he was, was tall.

He passed you a pen. You noticed that while his hands were gloved, a whisper of a tattoo peeked out as his sleeve rode up. It looked like it could be the bottom of a skull. Or a very small picket fence. Probably the former.

You figured he'd turn away and leave you to your work, but he doesn’t.

“Are you going to…”

“No,” he responded firmly. “If either of us get caught, at least two of us are screwed. I know I can get myself out of it, but our informant can’t. I won’t have his blood on your or my hands. So I’m going to keep watch.”

It’s slightly awkward with him just standing there, but you did your best to lay the blueprint flat against the wall and start scribbling away. Still, you couldn't help but let your eyes flit to him, now with his back to you, standing guard.

“Where are you from?”

“Hmm?”

“Your accent, where’s it from?”

“Shouldn’t you be focusing on your work?”

“I could do this with both hands tied behind my back."

He made a doubtful noise.

You let a cheeky smile grace your lips, “Pen in my mouth, paper on the floor. Handwriting might be chicken scratch, but it’d still be legible.”

If you could see his face, you would’ve noticed his eyebrows raise as he tried to picture it. You on your knees, leaned forward with your ass in the air, hands bound, tongue twisted around the p—

“So, the accent? Where?”

“That’s classified.”

You tilted your head in thought, “It’s Northern, right? British, not Scottish. You don’t sound like Eileen.”

He bristled, quiet in a way that tells you you’re on the money.

“Look, how about this. For every question you answer truthfully, I’ll do the same. I won’t ask you anything I know you can’t tell me, not even your name. I just... wouldn’t mind a little conversation. They’re kinda in short supply here.”

A beat passed.

“Manchester.”

“I knew it!”

He made another noise. You think it was a laugh. You think it sounds beautiful.

“My turn. How do you know Vietnamese?”

“My mother. She immigrated from the South when she was young. Judging from some of his vocabulary, I’d guess your informant is from the North, but the dialects aren’t all that different, especially in script. What food do you miss the most?”

“Anything that isn’t an ORP.”

“An ORP?”

“Operational ration pack.”

If your hands were free, you would’ve crossed them.

“That’s a cop out.”

“Fine,” he relented. “I could go for a Nando’s takeaway.”

“What sort of food is that?”

“Chicken. Flame grilled with this Peri-Peri sauce and—”

He groaned. It’s a noise you want to hear again.

Mimicked him in commiseration. The plates the guards slid through your food slot were pitiful, to say the least.

He starts to ask you something but seems to stop himself.

“What?” you asked.

“It’s… I shouldn’t.”

You were many things, but you weren't a coward.

“I can always choose not to answer. Hit me.”

His voice was still hesitant as he asked, “What did you get arrested for?”

You were worried that the question would be gross or embarrassing, not utterly nonsensical.

“Arrested?”

“Jean said they found you because you were taken into custody.”

“Oh,” your cheeks flushed. “It wasn’t that type of custody. I was 5150-ed. Or more accurately 5250-ed.”

“Pardon?”

“I tried to kill myself. I failed.”

The man froze. He turned around, trying to get a glimpse of you—and any wounds—through the grate.

“Do you need medical attention?”

“No,” you reassured. “I stole some valium and then drank myself silly. I was found in time and they got me help before any irrevocable damage happened. If they hadn’t spotted the note they would’ve just written me off as some foolish party animal, pumped my stomach, and let me be on my merry way.”

You haphazardly glanced at him, expecting him to be stone cold. A proper soldier. To your surprise his eyes, those stupidly beautiful eyes, are trained on you with more care than you've seen in the last three months combined.

“Were you a user… before?”

You shake your head but your eyes remain locked. You couldn't bear to break contact.

“No. Too busy with school. But then my mom died and suddenly everything was… too much. Going to med school and becoming a doctor was what she wanted. The loans, the sleepless nights, the blood, sweat, and tears. It was all for her. Not me. I wanted to make her proud. Happy. And now that will never happen. Without her, I didn’t really see the point of continuing to put myself through hell. I tried to drop out, but the program wouldn’t let me. So I figured might as well cut out all stress in my life instead.”

“Are you planning to try again?”

“No,” the answer is honest. “I’m not giving these bastards the satisfaction. Plus I need to find whoever put me in this situation in the first place and give them a piece of my mind.” You turned back to the blueprints, gently trying to shift the tone back to the comfortable rapport you had earlier. You missed it and you need him to stop looking at you like that or you might do something stupid. “That was like three extra questions. It's my turn now. Any hobbies?”

“Hobbies?”

The very word sounded foreign on his tongue.

“You know. Do you have a secret passion for knitting or something?”

“Embroidery, actually. And that’s no secret.”

“So, anything you do outside of… espionage or whatever your job is?”

“I dunno. Football. Tattoos.”

“Giving or receiving?”

“The latter, though I have been curious to learn it.”

“Got a steady hand?”

He smiled, thinking about something you know he won’t tell you.

“You could say that.”

“Anything else?”

He paused for a moment. You can tell there’s something on his mind. He just hasn’t resolved whether you’re worth it to tell to.

“There’s a bare knuckle boxing club I like to go to when I’m on leave.”

You haven’t seen him in combat, but there’s something in the coiled posture of his stance that tells you he knows how to handle himself.

“I bet you kick their asses."

He says nothing, but you swear he almost preens.

"Could you teach me?"

His lips quirked.

"How serious are you being?"

"Pretty decently. They got me this time. I won't let that happen again. Not without a fight."

"If you're ever in Town, visit Stuart’s and ask for Simon. Might be able to give you a few pointers."

You look up at him, grinning.

"Simon, eh?"

He smiled. His gaze was still intense, but its stifling mixture of pity and worry was replaced by something warmer that made your chest flutter.

"Can't promise I'll be there, but the lady at the desk should be able to tell you when I'll be back."

You folded the blueprints, neatly passing them through the cell bars.

"Well, Simon. Here's your translation. Give them hell."

----------

Chaos. Complete and other chaos.

Smoke and bombs and bullets. You agonized over whether or not to look out the window. The unknown of what was happening was almost scarier than the reality. In the few furtive glances you spared, you caught the bodies. So many bodies. The only relief was that all of the dead seemed to be guards.

You thought back on Simon, dressed in the guard’s garb. These are probably his people. He must’ve gotten out and they must’ve gotten the intel. By now he’s probably on his next recon mission. You were able to learn a little about military structure from what the other hostages told you about their families. If his specialty was infiltration they probably weren't going to waste him on a direct assault like this.

Manchester. Stuart's. Simon.

You didn't need to see him before then. You just needed him to stay alive, wherever he was.

The cacophony slowly grew closer. You didn't know whether that was a good or bad thing.

A loud buzz rang out as the power grid malfunctioned and the hallway outside your cell was plunged into darkness.

Something was happening and all you could do was sit back and listen.

There were screams. Some seemed to be of pure joy, others of painful death. Many you couldn’t tell apart.

There were gunshots. Often followed by gurgles and the sickening sound of someone falling to the ground. There were footsteps. Heavy ones. Slowly drawing nearer.

Someone jostled the cell door. You froze, holding your breath. Maybe they wouldn't even notice you.

The darkness outside your cell moved. A single blue eye peered through the grate, surrounded by black.

"Stay back," the eye commanded. You were all too happy to oblige him.

There was a quick bang and the cell door swung open, revealing a man. A large man.

He bent down to enter the cell before standing up to his full height. Clad in black with a mask you'd expect on a cartoon executioner, he unfolded like an eldritch piece of origami. He just seemed to keep on going.

“Are you Elisabeth?” Hearing it again, you realized his voice was accented. Up close, his demeanor transformed. He seemed... nervous. Incredibly so, barely even able to get the words out.

“Yes,” your voice is almost as hesitant as his.

“I— I am— Ah—” his feet shuffled about anxiously. Any bravado he had from battle has melted away, leaving him almost curled against the wall. You catch sight of a patch on his left side. Red. White. Red. The Austrian flag.

“Sprechen Sie Deutsch?” ( Do you speak German? ) you asked. Maybe talking would be easier in his native language.

The man perked up, surprised but excited.

“Ja! Du auch?” ( Yes! Do you? )

You nod, “Mein Vater war Österreicher.” ( My father was Austrian. )

You knew this was a possibility. Even with the covered face and the giant height difference. Still, his next words caught you off guard.

“Ich weiß. Ich bin dein Halbbruder.” ( I know, I’m your half-brother. )

----------

The tall man, your brother, escorts you out. He promises to tell you everything and more once you’re away from this wretched place wo die Wände haben Ohren ( where the walls have ears ).

After being cooped up for so long, your legs protest the walk, but you pushed through. You were a free woman and you would never take that for granted again.

The exhaustion was worth it to step into the daylight with your own two feet.

Once your eyes adjusted, you realized that two portable camps had been set up on the perimeter. As predicted, there was no sign of Simon. You did see a couple familiar faces though, along with a plethora of heavily-armed strangers (including a man wearing a skeleton mask of all things!). Eileen was deep in conversation with a mohawk-ed man, but she threw you a warm smile as she spotted you heading to the other wolf-emblemed camp.

"Are you alright?" a voice called out at you. It was British: Northern, but rougher and gruffer than Simon's had ever been. Still, you allowed yourself to revel in the fantasy for a moment before you had to face the speaker and ruin the illusion.

You didn't know who you were expecting when you turned around, but it certainly wasn't the skull-masked man.

Up close he was even more striking. You could just barely make out his shaded eyes, alone in a void of black and white. He was shorter than your brother, but still tall by any measure. Even at that size he managed to sneak up on you two.

Your heart was racing. You didn't know why.

"Ye—yes," you managed to stammer out.

Your brother noticed your distress. It seems to give him a confidence to act that he couldn't summon for himself.

He wrapped a protective arm around you and began to lead you away.

“She’s with KorTac,” he said, like that explained everything.

During your confinement, you had plenty of time to think about what you would say to whoever got you into this mess by joining the military. You had dreams of really digging in and tearing them a new one. All of those dreams flew out the window now.

It wasn’t like you couldn’t or were afraid to antagonize someone as big as your brother. But, seeing him… you didn’t want to do that, or anything that could hurt him.

You wanted to talk to him. To get to know him. To—silly as it was—protect him.

After all, he was about the only family you had left.

[tommygrace]

The people on YouTube are true fans of the show and what they say about the relationship between Tommy and Grace is beautiful. These are some of the comments:

"He didn't have great day, but the seconds he sees her his face lights up. And the way he keeps caressing her face , it melts the heart. He only did this with Grace."

"Grace is so adorable in this scene, she's the only one I'll accept for Tommy."

"Grace face expressipns just show happy she is marrying to tommy. Smiling and chukling more often than before... The actress nailed the grace character so well. You can feel her love for tommy."

"The way he looks at her and this soft aspect of him that we only see when Grace is around ❤️❤️"

"Grace was Tommy’s last light."

"He was never like this with lizzie and all the other girls."

"Tommy never got that happiness again after Grace's death. No woman could make that again not even Lizzie. I'm so sad Grace died so soon. They had barely a few moments of happiness😢"

"I like how she jumps on him at the end. Such natural chemistry between these two actors. Their relationship really felt real."

"Finishing the series and watching it again, its crystal clear Grace was the love of his life. He was just never the same without her 😢 he was so in love with her, both of them."

"The way he look at her.."

"I love the fact that after getting the Sapphire he decided to get a nacklace crafted for 'Grace' and nobody else... She was always on his mind..."

"She’s so happy to see him omg I love them."

"Yes. Everybody's talking about Tommy being in love with her but Grace was so in love with him too. ❤"

"They are perfection. This scene is just absolute cathartic perfection. From the fact she RUNS to greet him to the way that Mary admonishes her like a Mother. Arrow House was so fucking happy once. This was the life they deserved, he arrives home dead on his feet after being held hostage and he doesn't give a fuck because he's home. The way she's so excited for the letter is contagious and he cares, he genuinely CARES. He's not sat there mutely as she talks to him, he doesn't stop her from talking or distract her or come onto her. He sits and listens. He's just infatuated with her the - 'yes I am. I am.' Then the good wife comment and he's just like 'No.' Don't want a good wife, I just want you. It's just such a raw, intimate moment and the thought that this happened every time she came home soothes my little broken heart. How anyone can say she wasn't the love of his life or the best thing that ever happened to him I have no clue. She gave up her entire life for him and they built an empire in those two short years. Killing her off was a travesty and such a waste of both the character and the actress. Tommy was made to be with Grace and when she died, he died with her. He never recovered. Not with Lizzie or with the children, nobody. On a cold, dark lonely night it will be back here that he goes. Not back to his wife."

"The way he looks at her when he comes in 😩🥺🥺 it was a bad day but he knew she was home waiting on him 🥰🥰"

"She brought out the good and saw him as a man despite his power and position. They loved the parts of each other no one else truly did. His face lights up when she’s around no matter what. She was the one for him, nice to see that soft side of him."

"One of my fovourite scenes. They look so happy, paceful, soft...I miss their relationship😍"

"I really want her to come back... their chemistry is no joke... i want them to have their happily ever after."

"If Grace is in his arms then everything is alright for Tommy."

"I believe Grace's name is allegorical, since Tommy was the most happy n closest to peace while she was around him, which was for a very short time. The only 'grace' in his damned life."

"Thanks for uploading this scene. I loved when there were scenes of Grace and Tommy in their bedroom. I luv when Tommy said to Grace " come here" , so powerful, like I am your man and you are my woman. Also notice how that bedroom was set up so warm and romantic . The set crew really took time in creating this loving bedroom."

"She was his everything and his queen! He was at peace with her in his arms."

"So many people hating on Grace, but she was one of the few who called him out on his shit and snapped him out of his funk. She had seen him at his worst, when he was but a shell of a man striving to rise to the top. He was always most vulnerable around her and didn't bother hiding his true self because of this . The other women wouldn't have batted an eye at him, had he not been rich or influential."

"The change in him after 'tomorrow it will be just us'. He gives a little breath before calling her over like, 'just us' I've survived the day, now just the night and then 'just us'. Just us was all he ever wanted."

"This was the only time when he was at peace. With grace. The moment she died he was never the same."

"Man she is all he ever wanted. 🥺"

"When grace died Tommy was never really happy the rest of the show."

"This was the again after her death its clear that he will never love again, he will never be the person he was when he had her😔."

"I love how her name was Grace, since grace is the one thing Tom needed in his life and made him graceful to others- and when Grace was gone, grace was also gone out of his heart."

"Those words, and the context of who is saying them, make this scene a flawless example of what makes a man and a woman, together, creating something that wasn't there before."

"He was so full of happiness and joy 🥹."

"0:53 "Promise me, hm? A wedding vow". It melts my heart when she asks this, being so in love."

"The acting is incredible, especially her being in love with him. It feels so real, and the piano music elevates this; it emphasises their intimacy. Her love is so honest and pure."

"This scene kills me every time. They were just perfection. That smile at 1:40. The negotiated dance. The softness in him 😭 why she had to die I’ll never know. She could have been such an incredible instrument in the show. Amazing actress and character."

"Adore this scene. So beautiful and sweet."

I cried when she died , they were just perfect together. The only time Tommy was happy was with Grace."

"The part that killed me was after Grace was shot and she was dying in Tommy’s arms and they cut to a wide shot and we could see her almost caressing his back, soothing his pain as she died. Maybe it wasn’t intentional but, it was a very powerful touch before they cut away. Such a fantastic show…"

"Grace was his one and only❤…he was never the same without her."

"Their relationship from beginning to end gave me chills. They did so well with these characters and their chemistry and sexual tension."

"tommy explicitly said he doesn't believe in God, and confessing to grace in a church is something i perceived that she is the only one he believes in and will save him from his sins... grace is tommy's religion ❤️‍🔥"

"The chemistry between these two, Cillian Murphy and Annabelle Wallis, is electric. Fantastic actor & actress because I'm shocked they're not married in real life with how great this is. I wish they'd get more couple roles together! Another on-screen couple in recent times I've seen with this electric chemistry is Brandon Sklenar and Julia Schlaepfer in 1923, this stuff is mesmerizing to me."

"S1 is my all time favourite. Tommy and Grace were so special. This conversation was absolutely brilliant, pureness of their emotions (symbolised by the church) amidst the lies and dangers lurking over their heads. Her presence was heavily missed in s6.😢"

"Season 1 and 2 are the highlights of deep storytelling and fantastic writing. After that the story starts to get convoluted and it is the fantastic acting that keeps people hooked."

"A brilliant scene, simple yet melancholic. They spoke so succinctly, to the point that each and every word spoken is like its weight in gold. It's just so mesmerising."

"I think that’s the sweetest on screen kiss I’ve seen yet 🥲."

"I’m still so bitter about her death 😭 I know that Tommy isn’t meant to be happy, but I would’ve loved to see Grace’s character grow alongside Tommy’s. I also think that Grace, Ada, and Polly would’ve created an amazing bond and relationship. And they would’ve been lethal for the Peaky Blinders organization. When Mosley said to Tommy that he wanted to sleep with Lizzie when Tommy invited him over to Lizzie’s bday party ballet celebration, I’ve always wondered what Tommy’s reaction would’ve been if instead of Lizzie, it was Grace who Mosley wanted to sleep with. I’m sure he would’ve lost his marbles right then and there. Grace just brought out a different side of Tommy and I love seeing that contrast in a character (the good, the bad and the ugly ). Can’t wait for the movie, though! It’s going to be EPIC!"

"I want to cry, they were so pure when they allow their feelings to flow 💓😭💕".

"Grace and Tommy...A match made in heaven❤️."

"Tommy's swith was completly off after her death,he was never the same."

"I love so much these two together. ♥"

"I love them and miss them the most a lot."

"I loved every scene Tommy and Grace were with each other. They had great chemistry together. This couple could have had so much potential but instead the writer decided to break Tommy's heart and soul so early and make him live in hell for the rest of his life. 😭So sad."

"Poor Tommy she was perfect for him and her death tore him apart."

"I want to see them together, please give us a proper closure in the movie."

"I think it was wrong to have Lizzie and Tommy together afterwards. Grace was the high standard. No other female character can replicate Tommy and Grace’s chemistry."

"Here it is shown that Grace is always going to be the great love of his life. His mind is so damaged that just imagining Grace's ghost brings him to a state of peace, because she is the only one who can make him feel better."

"When she embraced him I was ready to burst into tears. Just bring her back! 🥺."

"Maybe my heart broke all over again."

"She is the love of Tommy's life and the love for his life too. Tommy was a romantic guy who laughed, but because of the trauma of war he became a gangster to take the pressure and survive. He never loved this life, he lives like this because it is the only way. In addition to making him forget the terror of war, she was the only one to present an alternative (for 2x). He would be happy and could work with horses and cars legally without worry."

"i think this is the best scene in the entire show... I was very moved by it and i rarely get moved by anything...it captured beautifully how alone tom is ... opiates by the fire talking to his wife's ghost..i can't think of anything more lonely."

"0:55 his little smile when she starts to speak. so sad 💔."

"Grace is Tommy’s only love ❤️ I miss Grace so much 🥺🥺."

"True fooking love. No one can come close to Grace periodt. Give her a fooking role already".

"Look how relieved Tommy looked for a sec when he was embracing her 😥."

"I loved the chemistry between Tommy and Grace and I wanted to see more of Tommy and Grace and I was heartbroken when she died cause I wanted her to be with Tommy till the end of the series but sadly she had to die for the sake of storyline but still she’s my fav female character in the whole series. Tbh Annabelle is really so beautiful and gorgeous that she can make anyone fall in love with her".

"Lizzie is no where close to grace..I really wished she got to play a double role..."

"they were made for each other."

"Best scene in the series ever. the most happiest, normal, and peaceful moment Tommy ever had."

"Admit it, we all wanted this wedding to happen as soon as he met grace."

"When the tune kicked in after revealing it was Grace. Amazing."

"4:02 lol tommy wanted to kiss her forever, Grace had to be like "enough" love their love."

"The happiest days of Thomas life!"

*The shelby family is so happy that day."

"Finally!! he really loved her i was afraid they are not gonna get married."

"Tooo much love in this episode ❤"

"Tommy was so lost after poor Grace died."

This has to be one of the happiest moments in Tommy's life."

"Never saw Tommy happier and more complete than at this moment."

"His smile at 0.12 is ❤"

"Cillian Murphy said it best “There’s always a sense of healing when he’s with Grace, but that healing goes away very quickly”"

"I am so glad that someone posted this.. this scene is beautiful. For once Tommy is happy.. like really happy. It's nice that they showed one scene like this in the series. I really wanted to see that since they fell in love."

"Tommy loved his wife and son so much, poor guy lost his true happiness."

Dedicated to every Grace fan. People love them, just like all of us, Team Grace!

[romantic-disarray]

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・.・゜

“—No thank you.” How many has it been since then? “I'm not interested.” Rejection after rejection.

You could only stare as Rin turned down another box of chocolates one of the girls prepared for him on this specific day. You watched as the expression on the girls face turned sour, nose scrunching, and forced a quivering smile out of her.

“Ah, I see.” You watched as she walked away in a solemn manner. Yeah, you watched.

That's what you've been doing all day. You watched as your best friend rejected every person that dared to offer him anything on Valentines, and each time you see another one approaching—it strikes fear within your heart.

Because you knew, had you not decided to be a wuss and hide the love letter in your bag earlier that morning—you'd probably be the one in their shoes. Rin gestured for you to follow him after a few seconds of standing in the middle of the hallways, and you reluctantly followed, a bit tired now that you've finally reached the end of the day.

You heaved a heavy sigh, “Are you tired?” Rin asked, staring while you stretched your back. You hummed, before chuckling, “A bit, I got pushed around by your fans a lot. But it was worth it, seeing them all fawn over you was hilarious.” You joked.

It was true though, no matter how painful their harsh pushes past you were—seeing them fight over one guy was funny to watch. Even if that one guy was the person you were currently unrequited with. Rin stayed quiet, one hand reaching over to unzip his bag and rummaged through it.

You stared in anticipation, not sure as to what he was looking for. “Here.” To your surprise, Rin held a box of chocolates in front of you. Your eyes widened, wondering where and when he got the chocolates, “It's from one of the people who gave it to me, I'm not sure who, I forgot.” You being the tired person you were, thought nothing of it and instead slowly held the end of the box while his fingers tightly gripped onto the other one.

“I don't really like chocolate, they taste like wax.” He murmured quietly, a small stitch to his eyebrows already said a lot about what he felt. “They're lukewarm, right?” You playfully teased, and Rin unsurprisingly nodded his head in agreement.

“Alright, I'll see you tomorrow then.” You hummed, usually the two of you go home together, so why is he in a rush now? “Aren't we gonna go home together?” You asked way too quickly, not even considering that fact that he must be tired after being the star of the whole school earlier.

“Sorry, that sounded desperate...” Your apology was immediately followed by an awkward laugh. Rin lightly shook his head, “It's fine. I'm just... Tired. Bye.” You rose a brow, he said bye a little too quickly just now. Just what is going on in his head?

Rin slowly began to walk away while you looked back down at the crimson box in your hands, lightly staring at it before it hit you.

“Wait. You never accepted any of their chocolates.” Rin paused, almost like he'd been caught. Your eyes widened, a blush immediately creeping up your cheeks when you finally realized.

“You bought me these?!” You yelled, a little too loudly. You covered your mouth and whispered a small apology to nobody in particular. Rin did not dare to turn around, instead he gave you a small wave, “I'll see you tomorrow.” He said, before continuing to walk—just a little bit faster this time.

You smiled widely and ran to his side, not letting him escape when he'd just done the sweetest thing anyone has ever did for you. “That is so sweet of you.” You lightly nudged his side. “Thanks, I really appreciate it.” Rin stayed quiet, too busy staring at the gate ahead of him, before he sighed when the silence that followed was too unbearable.

“... You're welcome.”

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Grew in my Heart

It's finally done you guys!!!! This is my take on a foster Pony au, loosely based on this idea from @freak-l0rd-certifed. It's currently unedited but I'll post it here anyways, and then cross post an edited version on my ao3. @pepsicurtis asked to be tagged when it was done based on a snippet I posted earlier, so here you go. This is part 1, part 2 is fully written and will be up tomorrow.

***************

The lady on the other side of the room is watching him.

That’s okay though. Ponyboy is used to people watching him. Social workers, foster parents, group home staff, police. Everyone watches him all the time but nobody cares, cares for him or about him, so Ponyboy doesn’t mind this lady joining in. He knows he looks weird, with his sticky out ears and the patchy haircut Mr. Fuller gave him and the bruise around his eye. So he understands why this lady is watching him, and doesn't begrudge her for it.  Besides, she looks like a nice lady. Nice ladies don’t usually watch him. If they do they don’t usually look at him with the kindness glowing in the woman’s shining green eyes.

The lady smiles at him and he ducks back into his book, ears burning. She wasn’t supposed to catch him looking.

When he peeks over the top of his copy of Great Expectation a minute later, she’s still watching him, smiling in a way Ponyboy would call amusement if he didn’t know better. He quickly hides again, cursing himself for drawing notice. It’s never a good thing. Never. Better he stay quiet, stay invisible. Invisible kids didn’t get hurt.

He hopes Ms. Summers will come back soon and take him to wherever he’ll be staying next, if only so that he can leave the waiting room, escape from where this nice lady and her nice family are no doubt waiting for them to bring a brand new baby to adopt. Probably one only a few days old, something sweet and cute and new they could love and pamper. Nice people only ever came to the child services offices to pick up babies. Anyone who came to pick up kids was usually about as nice as the people who dropped them off. 

He goes back to his book. Usually it’s easy to escape into the story where he can pretend to be a knight or a hero or anything but stupid, small, unwanted Ponyboy Hewitt, but he can’t seem to concentrate today. It’s not just because of the nice looking lady with the green eyes who keeps watching him, keeping an eye on him the same way she’s been keeping an eye on the three boys who came in with her. His head is also aching something fierce. That last knock from Mr. Fuller was kind of hard. 

Hard enough Ms.Summers thought he should move again anyway.

“Quit fidgeting, Soda,” an authoritative voice from the other side of the room says, and Ponyboy can’t help but glance over. He tells himself it’s because the speaker was kind of loud, but he knows deep down that’s not the case. It’s not because the boy is loud, it’s because he’s cool. He’s a lot bigger than Pony is, and older too, with wavy brown hair and broad shoulders. He could probably look Mr.Fuller square in the face and never be scared, not ever. “We have to show we’re the perfect family or they won’t let us keep Johnny.”

“Really?” The boy who answers has golden blond hair and rosy cheeks with a dimple high in one corner. Pony never really understood what books meant when they talked about eyes twinkling until the boy had pranced into the office a few minutes before, looking like a prince straight from a fairytale. His eyes aren’t twinkling now though: instead, they’re shining with worry. His shadow, a smaller boy with jet black hair and tan skin, looks the same, eyes wide and terrified in his peaked face. “They can’t do that just ‘cause I’m sittin’ wrong, can they mom?”

He turns anxiously to the nice lady who smiles and smooths down his hair.

“Of course not honey,” she soothes, “we don’t gotta prove we’re perfect to keep Johnny, we just gotta prove we love him. And we do.”

She turns her smile on the dark haired boy who flushes and ducks his head shyly, looking unfathomably pleased. Ponyboy swallows hard and looks away, his own ears reddening. It’s not fair for him to hate the dark haired boy, he knows it isn’t, but it doesn’t matter. In that moment, he kind of hates him anyway. 

The woman’s gentle smile has confirmed what he suspected all along. She’s a nice mom, the kind he’s only ever read about in storybooks. She probably kisses those boys goodnight- even the big one, even if he pretended it wasn’t cool- and probably smells like cinnamon and bakes birthday cakes sometimes, puts bandages on cuts, and never slaps them, not ever. 

He wants Ms. Summers to come back. He wants to leave. He doesn’t want to sit here and watch a boy his own age get adopted by the kind of family he wishes he could have more than anything in the world. 

The blonde boy sticks his tongue out at the cool one and makes a fart noise.

“See Darry? They ain’t gonna take Johnny! You’re stupid and wrong!”

“Sodapop Patrick Curtis!” A man Ponyboy assumed must be the nice lady’s husband and the boys’ father boomed, “What have I told you about using that kind of language towards your brother?”

“That it's not how we speak to our family,” the blonde boy, Sodapop, says like he was reading off a teleprompter. Clearly, this was not the first time he’d heard that particular reprimand, “but dad, I was only defending my other brother.”

“Be that as it may,” Mr.Curtis said, “I don’t want to hear that language from you any more.” He sounded stern, but his eyes were still glinting proudly and there was a smile hiding somewhere near the corner of his mouth. Not a scary dad then. A good one.

“Yeah Soda,” the older boy, Darry, grinned, seeming unperturbed by the insult. He was real handsome, Pony thought. If he was Sodapop he’d never call that Darry boy stupid, not ever. “Save that language for socs. Or Two-bit when he’s playin’ poker against Dally.”

Sodapop laughed then, any traces of animosity disappearing, Johnny grinning quietly beside him. 

Ponyboy decides he’s done watching them be happy, and goes to the washroom.

He does his business, standing on tiptoe to reach the sink when he’s done because it’s meant for adults not for kids and there's no footstool. He can’t reach the soap, even when he jumps, so he just settles for rinsing extra long. The paper towel dispenser is also too high to reach so he dries his hands on his pants and goes back to the waiting room. 

“Oh honey, wait,” he doesn’t realize the nice lady is speaking to him until she’s kneeling in front of him, tugging his shirt from where he hadn’t noticed it had gotten twisted and tucked into his pants, pulling it out and smoothing it down nicely, “there you go. All handsome again.”

She smiles, looking like sunshine incarnate, and Ponyboy kind of wants to die.

“Thank you.” He mumbles, sure he must be redder than a tomato, then flees back to his chair on the other side of the waiting room. They’re all watching him now, the nice lady and her nice husband, and the three boys who are now all sitting in a circle on the floor, playing a game of cards. 

He opens Great Expectations to a random page and stares at it hard, trying very hard not to cry. He’s almost seven years old, he’s not a baby anymore. He will not cry just because one lady was nice to him and now her perfect family is staring at him. He won't. 

“Hi!” Suddenly, blonde, beautiful Sodapop is in front of him, grinning like Ponyboy is the best thing he’s ever seen ever, “I’m Soda. Wanna play cards with us?”

He wants to, more than anything, but he knows if he does it’ll just feel worse when they leave and he doesn’t go with them , or when Ms. Summers comes to drag him away to whoever will bother keeping him for the next few weeks, so he can’t.

He shakes his head, unable to actually say no, and Soda deflates, eager grin melting into an unhappy pout, shoulders curling forward, and the twinkle in his eye dimming. He looks like Pony just ruined his whole day with one shake of his head. 

“Ok,” he sighs, dramatic and world weary, and it would seem like an act if his eyes weren’t entirely genuine, “if you change your mind, you can c’mon over anytime. It would be so much more fun with another person.”

He rejoins the other two boys who shoot curious looks Pony’s way, but he ignores them, looking back at his book. He’s not reading though. He can’t. Instead he’s listening to the boys playing cards, wishing more than anything that he could join them.

“I win.” Dark haired Johnny proclaims for the third time and Soda throws down his cards with a dramatic groan, while Darry just laughs. He seems real nice, not like the big boys at the group homes who liked to steal Pony’s books and shove him around. He hadn’t gotten mad at Soda or Johnny even once, not even when they were playing Go Fish and Soda cheated by peeking at his cards. 

“You little shark,” Darry ruffled Johnny's dark hair, the smaller boy flinching a little before leaning into the touch, “how do you keep doin’ that, huh?”

Johnny shrugged. “It’s a secret.”

“You’re cheatin’!” Soda accused.

“Am not!”

“Are too! No one wins as much as you.”

“I’m just good at cards without cheatin’.”

Soda huffed. “You’re lucky you’re my brother now or I’d fight you.”

“I’d win.” Johnny boasts, and suddenly he looks fierce, chin jutting and eyes fiery, like every kid in every home who fought grownups and just ended up beaten down worse. 

“That’s enough,” Darry pulls the two apart, practically picking them each up with one hand, “quit arguin' or I’m putin’ the cards away.”

“No!” Soda throws himself to the ground, arm draped dramatically across his forehead, “I’ll die of boredom!”

“Then sit up and be good,” Darry tells him, and Soda scrambles to do as he’s told. Pony feels his own spine straightening. It’s just because he’s tired, he tells himself.  It has nothing to do with wanting Darry to look at him with the same approval he looks at Soda and Johnny with. He needs to stretch out a bit, that’s all.

“Y’know,” Darry says, disarmingly casual, easily shuffling the cards the way Pony always wanted to but could never manage, the movement too deft for his clumsy fingers, “there's so many more games we could play with four players.” 

If he didn’t know better Pony would swear Darry was looking at him sideways as he said it, grinning conspiratorially like they were sharing a joke. 

“Euchre…gin rummy…spades…signals…”

Pony’s heart jumped. He loved signals. 

It was practically another invitation right? And Soda had said he could join anytime if he changed his mind…surely one game wouldn’t hurt. 

He scoots forward a bit on the chair, considering. 

“Well?” Suddenly Darry- handsome, cool Darry- is grinning right at him, one eyebrow raised, “You in or not?”

And well….that was an actual invitation. From a big boy no less! Usually boys like Darry wanted nothing to do with him.

Pony could feel what was surely a far too eager grin spreading over his face and he nodded, quickly taking a spot on the floor in between Soda and Johnny. Darry’s grin turned triumphant, like he was the one who’d just been invited to play cards by a cool stranger. 

“Nice. What’s your name kiddo?”

“Ponyboy.” He mumbles, bracing himself for laughter that never comes. Instead Darry just nods, starting to deal cards with ease. 

“Tuff name. I’m Darry, and this here’s Johnny.” 

Pony offered a shy smile in response to Johnny’s friendly nod, earlier vitriol forgotten. It wasn’t Johnny’s fault he was lucky. Pony shouldn’t hate him for it. 

“You already met Soda.”

Darry gives Soda a fondly exasperated look, and Pony focuses very hard on the cards being dealt so he won’t have to look at their faces.

Unsure of what to say, he just nods. Luckily, Darry keeps talking.

“Well Ponyboy, I reckon since you just joined you get to pick the game.”

“R-really?”

“Sure.” Darry smiled kindly. Golly he was nice. “We’ll play a few rounds and then switch it up if any of us are getting bored.”

“Can-” Ponyboy hesitated. Darry nods, encouraging him to continue, “can we play signals?”

“Sure. You okay to be on a team with me?”

“Yes,” Pony could hardly believe his luck. Not only were they playing his favourite game, but Darry wanted to be on a team with him!

“Ok,” Soda chirped, “me’n Johnny are going over there so you don’t listen to us pick our signals like cheaters!”

“Soda!” Mr Curtis warned.

“I’m bein’ nice!”

Pony giggled. 

“Ignore him,” Darry advised, scooting over to sit beside him, “I wish I could say he’s just bein’ crazy ‘cause he’s excited, but the truth is he’s always like that. He ain’t really mean though, just has too much energy.”

“I know,” Pony tells him, “I seen mean before. He ain’t it. If he was mean he’d have taken my book or followed me to the bathroom and put my head in the toilet.”

A horrified gasp makes him jump. He’d momentarily forgotten all about sunshiney Mrs.Curtis, but now she’s staring at him in horror, eyes filled with rage. 

What did he do? Did she not want him to be telling her nice golden sons about stuff like that? 

“I-I’m sorry I-” he can feel his ears burning and wishes more than anything he’d stayed on that hard plastic chair where he was safe instead of getting drawn in by the light of the family in front of him. 

“Whoa, hey,” Darry catches him by the arm before he can scramble to his feet, grip not bruising like he’s used to but gentle, reassuring, “where are you going? We haven’t picked a signal yet.”

His smile is so hopeful. Hesitantly, Pony settles back down. 

“Ok.”

“Well?” Darry nudges him gently, carefully. It seems to Ponyboy that someone so big shouldn’t be able to do that and not hurt him just a little bit, but somehow Darry manages it. “What signal do you think we should do?”

Pony glances across the room at where Soda is gesturing exaggeratedly and talking at Johnny a mile a minute.

“Something small,” he decides, “something they won’t notice.”

“Good thinking,” Darry’s approval feels like sitting in the sunshine and eating ice cream and reading a book all at once, “how about…rubbing our noses?”

He demonstrates, rubbing a finger under his nose like he’s scratching an itch and Ponyboy nods, copying the action. 

“Perfect.”

He raises his left hand then. Taps his ear. Waits a few seconds. Taps his ear again.

“What are you doing?” Darry wonders. 

“I have a trick,” Ponyboy informs him.

“Oh?” Darry’s raising a single eyebrow again, looking intrigued. A swell of unearned pride starts in Ponyboy’s chest. 

“Yep,” Pony nods, “they’re watching us right now.”

Darry follows his gaze across the room to where Johnny is watching them out of the corner of his eye, while acting for all the world like he’s still focused on Sodapop. 

“So,” Ponyboy continues. He taps his ear again, “if we do a fake signal now, like we’re practicing, and then do it while we’re playing they’ll call signal and get themselves disqualified and we’ll win.”

“Huh,” Darry reaches up and taps his own ear, “good thinkin’ kid.”

Pony glows.

“We’re ready,” Soda announces a second later, dragging Johnny behind him, “and we have the best signal ever. You’ll never guess it.”

“We’ll see.” Darry challenges, flipping the first card off the deck, and the game begins.

Pony checks his own hand. Two jacks, a two, and a seven. Deciding to go for jacks he passes the two facedown and slides it left to Johnny, picking up the ten Soda placed down for him on the other side.

He passes and trades cards for a few seconds, managing to pick up a third jack on the way. When it’s been long enough it’s not suspicious, he reaches up and taps his ear, trying to make it seem like he’s scratching an itch.

The trick works. 

“Block!” Johnny cries triumphantly, pointing at him and Pony grins, shaking his head. 

“Nope!”

“What?” That’s Sodapop, “We’re out? But-but I’m with Johnny! Johnny always wins!”

“Guess not this time,” Darry grins, raising a hand. It takes a second for Pony to realize he’s reaching out for a high five instead of to cuff him, but when he does he reaches out eagerly, tapping Darry’s palm with his own.

“How did you do that?” Johnny wonders, head tilted in confusion, “I saw you tapping your ear earlier when you were making your signal.”

“It was a trick!” Pony grins. Darry is pleased, and they just won a card game, and no one here has gotten properly mad at him at all. 

Johnny shakes his head, grinning ruefully. “Well it was a good one.”

Soda declared he wanted a rematch, so they played a few more rounds, until Johnny figured out their trick and then both teams had so many fake signals and everyone was too scared to block anyone and could hardly remember their real signals from their fake ones. Darry was just proposing they switch to playing crazy eights when Ms. Summers hurried out of the office, looking harried as usual.

“Oh! Ponyboy,” She looks surprised to see him sitting on the floor, “don’t go botherin’ these nice folks now. I know you’ve had a long day, and I promise I’m workin’ as hard as I can to figure things out so just sit tight and be good a few minutes longer. I just got a few more calls to make and I’ll get you some lunch, alright? C’mon and sit properly now, that’s a good boy.” 

She pulls him to his feet, not roughly exactly, but carelessly, the way he’s used to, and he ducks his head, shoulders curling automatically as she frog marches him back to the plastic chair in the corner of the waiting room she’d parked him in at seven o'clock this morning.

“He ain’t botherin’ us!” Suddenly Soda is on his feet, glaring at Ms. Summers. “We invited him to play. We’re havin’ fun.”

“He’s really no trouble,” Mrs. Curtis smiles, placing a hand on her son’s shoulder. Her voice is as sugar sweet as ever but there’s something hard in her eyes nevertheless as she stares Ms. Summers down, “the boys are all havin’ fun playing together and I have no problem keepin’ an eye on him for you. He’s a good boy, like you said.”

She turns the full force of her smile on him, her eyes suddenly all softness, and Ponyboy finds himself wondering what it would be like if somebody looked at him like that every day, like he was something instead of nothing.

“Well, if you’re sure, I suppose that's fine. You be good Pony,” Ms. Summers says, and then she’s gone again, back into the office, back to making phone calls to find someone, anyone, willing to take him in.

Pony stands where she left him, half dragged across the room, lost in the waiting room he’d spend what felt like half his life in.

“That lady,” Soda says, “was a bitch.”

Darry’s eyebrows shoot up, and Soda grins cheekily over his shoulder in a way that says he fully expects a reprimand, but to Ponyboy’s surprise Mr.Curtis just nods slowly.

“Y'know son, I think in this case you might be right.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Mrs. Curtis says, but it’s so half-hearted even Ponyboy can tell. Her eyes are fixed on Ms.Summers’ door, lips pressed into a thin line, and Pony gets the feeling she’s real mad but hiding it real well.

“She don’t know what to do with me,” Pony finds himself defending his social worker. She ain’t mean really, ain't even a bad person. She’s just busy. Too busy to really care. “It ain’t her fault. I cause her a lotta problems.”

“I have a very hard time believing that,” Mrs. Curtis says, “I don’t think you could cause problems if you tried.”

He could. He wasn’t like Curly from the group home, who did everything he possibly could and then some to cause problems, but Pony did create them sometimes. One time he’d burned Mrs.Delvine’s sheets when he was ironing because she hadn’t given him dinner the night before. And he’d put half a shaker of salt in Mr.Fuller’s soup after he gave him this stupid haircut. But he never tried to cause problems for Ms. Summers and he still caused them anyway.

He shrugs. “No one wants me. It’s her job to find someone who’ll put up with me. I can’t blame her for bein’ tired.”

“You’re still a little boy,” Mrs.Curtis shakes her head, and usually Ponyboy hates being called little but he finds he doesn’t mind too much when she says it, “she shouldn’t be takin’ any of her frustrations out on you.”

Pony wants to tell her that his own mother didn’t want to be stuck with him so he can hardly blame his social worker for feeling the same way. He wants to tell her about how tired he is and how much his head hurts and how hungry he is. He wants to tell her a lot of things. He doesn’t.

“Oh honey,” he doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he’s wrapped in a warm hug, held protectively against Mrs. Curtis’ chest, his sobs muffled against the stretched collar of her pretty yellow dress. He’s sure he must be getting snot on her, but she doesn’t seem to mind, holding him closer when he starts to squirm away and apologize, cooing to him until he settles down, “oh honey.”

She scoops him up then, because she’s a grown up and he’s still pretty small for six years old, and she sets him on her knee and kisses his forehead, and even if it won’t last and he will never feel this again after today, for once he knows what it’s like to be comforted and loved by a mother. 

Golly he’s tired.

“You just have a sleep now,” she pulls his head down to rest against her shoulder, running a gentle hand through his shorn off hair, “you just have a good sleep and don’t worry about a thing.” 

He feels his eyelids drooping. She drops a soft kiss on his forehead, her fingers never ceasing their soothing motions in his hair.

“Everything’s gonna be okay, baby,” he hears her say as he drifts off, “I promise. Everything’s gonna be just fine.”

He sleeps.

[bones4thecats]

hiii sorry and please can i request T-T

Tansaisekun!fem reader (like before) x Odin and anubis (seperately)

Soo im pretty bored since that can i request how a day in the life of reader and their lover and child would be , just fluff and pure crack and how would they find when one of their close friend are being bullied(jokingly) by the mischevious calamity Goddess??

(something like this)

Alright thats all tyyy

Type of Writing: Request Characters: Odin and Anubis Name: {Character} x Tansai Sekun! Reader with their Child Requester: @lizuannn Original Request: Here

A/N: I haven't written for these Record in Ragnarok characters to much, so they may kinda be a hint OOC. So I'll apologize in advance just in case.

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

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�� Everyone is so confused on how the hell you both even got along because of your differing personalities, not to mention started a relationship

🪶 Not many knew, but the reason he loved you was your differences, whenever he compared himself and his constant stoic expression to your more upbeat and sadistic smile-covered face, he would feel a flutter in his chest

🪶 When you guys heard you were expecting your first child, nobody was more shocked than Zeus, who never expected his oldest ally to have children of his own, he even bet his fellow Gods on it!

🪶 Now the guy owes around one million things of different kinds of money to different Deities, what a dumbass

🪶 Anyways, Odin was on the edge of having a child, he didn't want the kid to be 'on-the-edge' of sanity, that may end up causing mass chaos on the entirety of Valhalla

🪶 But, when your son, Thor, came in the world, he resembled his father far more than his mother, which made you tease him for it, trying to get him to smile more often than not

🪶 You bonded with Loki far more because of your sadism, and it wasn't new to your son or husband to see you both messing around with another God with your classic sadistic smile

🪶 The closest you have ever gotten to being the sadistic mother-son duo with Thor is whenever you were talking about bloody battles you both participated in, and hearing you both stay so calm while describing a mutilation honestly scares everyone within hearing-distance, your husband is even on edge around you more now

🪶 Now, everyone knew that you teased everyone. But when, during a Gods' Council meeting, you began to screw around with Zeus, driving him to the near-brink of insanity, Odin just mentally face-palmed, how does he put up with you?

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋆⋄✧⋄⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

🐶 What a surprise? The happy-sadist and the insane-golden-retriever Deities have now gotten together!

🐶 Anubis was known for his happy-go-lucky and partially sadistic personality, while you were known for your full-blown sadism to anything that walked, especially if the thing was humanoid

🐶 You guys got along quite well before it was announced that you guys were, in fact, a couple and were intending to marry one another once the day arrived, and it didn't shock anyone, you guys were quite similar and lived off the other's energy

🐶 No, your relationship didn't shock anyone who heard about it, rather, they were shocked when they heard you guys were expecting a child

🐶 Once your daughter, which you both named Kebechet, came into the world, anybody who looked at her could tell, she was definitely going to be as compulsive with her actions like you and her father was

🐶 As she aged, she showed more signs of a small-sadistic side hatching inside of her like a seed growing into a blooming apple tree

🐶 Anubis loves playing with his child, and most of the time, it ended up with them playfully bickering as you would film it to show off to the rest of the Egyptian Pantheon

🐶 Due to her more sadism showing, many began to fear the three of you being together in the same room whenever announcing something that they knew would at least aggravate one of you, since it most likely would result in all of you getting angry

🐶 Now, Anubis was fairly close to Hades, since their occupations involved being around one another sometimes, since Anubis brought souls to the Underworld while Hades ruled said land and measured each soul that passed

🐶 When he was dropping off a small group of souls and he saw you floating around the head of his friend's, Anubis smiled and was about to call your name when he faltered, seeing Hades jump as you summoned a small lump of what looked like body parts

🐶 Watching as you still pressured Hades into snapping, Anubis decided to take a break and watch. Why not? Two of his favorite people messing around? Yes please

[deadpool15]

Million Dollar Baby- Pt1

Aerin Creer shall be the OC for this fic. It will be in parts.

The outfit that she is wearing will always be in the pic above. the character is 23 years old, while Byeon is about 25.

All repressive characters will be the same as before.

So, you guys won her powers, which will be telekinesis

There will be russian in the story and maybe even korean, but I will limit it to little things.

I'm using a translator, so I'm sorry if it's incorrect

Age 9

"You all need to realize there are privileges in this world, and eating is one of them. So, hit harder, or you will starve." A man yells over all the chaos of the fighting children. I never learned their names except Alexi. My torment and pain were caused by him. Though, my entire existence was purely for kicks. Apparently, my overly obsessed mother believed she could create the perfect child for her husband or, more so, my father. He was a powerful man in a country where the only law to exist was his own. Some say he was the devil himself, but all my mother saw was the love of her life. Drugging herself with experiments and foreign concoctions to make the perfect soldier. She died during childbirth, or that's what I like to think. My mother died that night, and some women took care of me for 4 years. Eventually, she had a deal with some goons, taking money she couldn't afford. And in turn, they took her child.

A living nightmare, one way to describe my current situation. We are trained day in and out to be the obedient warriors that will be the next generation for Pavel. It's where I met Ryu Shi-oh or he met me. "Get up and fight. Or your a worthless fucking nobody and we aren't investing time in that bullshit." Alexi screamed at me, after being hit so many times I couldn't get back up. Everything hurt. They had gathered us all around to fight as a presentation to the leaders. Alexi told me if I embarrassed him, he would beat rhe shit out of me. What else was new, though? "Get up right fucking now!" I stared at the ground before something clicked inside of me. It's like I didn't give a single fuck about the outcome. "Shut the fuck up." I stared up at him as if looks could kill hoping he would explode right there before my eyes. All the children turned around, shocked, while stopping. Alexi laughs out loud before shoving me. "Get your fucking hands off me you little dick asshole!" I yelled at him. For the first time in my life I yelled. I was fighting back. Usually, I'm pretty sure he would love this, but since he had thr higher ups here, he was beyond pissed.

I could see Shi-oh in the corner of the room, motioning for me to stop. But this time, I wasn't backing down. Before I could think he punched me. Rocking my body all the way down to the floor. "The fuck did you say, say it again bitch. Go on, I dare you. I'll fucking chop you into pieces and feed you to rhe dogs!" The old me would've sat there in tears, fearing for my life. The silent room was shaken by my loud, obnoxious laugh. If there was one thing I had learned in my lifetime, men wouldn't like to be challenged. He stormed over to me and punched me yet again. Then, I started to kick me in the stop over and over again. Though, I kept laughing, refusing to give him the satisfaction. My ribs were sore, some probably broken before I grew tired of it. I started to cry while laughing, I'm pretty sure I looked like a manic to everyone in the room.

I started yelling stop, I just wanted in to be over. I was done with the pain and suffering. But he kept going, like always no one ever listened to me. Before he reaches to kick me again, a force pushes him back, clasing into the wall. A crack had been heard, and anyone could tell his skull had been split open. Though, he wasn't dead yet, no, not quite. I continue to laugh as everyone backs away from me, I see the higher ups standing from their chairs in amazement and slight fear. I push myself up off the grown and see Alexi. He looked like shit, maybe even worse than me. I turn to look at my broken finger and move to crack it back in place before it does it on its own. I hear whimpering, I turn to the crushed in wall. "Are you fucking crying, you have to be fucking with me right now." I laugh out loud holding my bruised ribs while staring at him. "H-help me." It looked like its body had been piered into the wall, I saw some of his insides. I went to turn until I realized he wasn't going to shut up. The constant whining from the man who loves man. How ironic.

I had no idea what was going on, yet for some reason, my body felt like it was on fire. Everything was so loud. My skin felt itchy, and my head was pounding. My senses felt hyper, and I was overwhelmed by everything around me. What the fuck was happening? "Be quiet....Be quiet." I just wanted it to stop. His cries felt like they were drilling into my skull. Yet he wouldn't stop. I didn't even realize I had thrown my hands up in rhe sir to cover my ears before I screamed out, "MAKE IT STOP!" The lights shattered to the floors, and some of the children dropped dead, with their eyes, nose, and ears leaking blood. Brain particles were scattered across the floor. Alexi was dropped from the wall, yet his head was still inside of the wall. Decapitated completely from his body with pieces of his spinal cord attached to it. I was so exhausted. I only remember myself falling to the ground while seeing Shi-oh running in my direction, screaming.

The Pavel leaders stood up immediately at the sight of everything around them. Some were in complete distress while seeing the future soldiers laying across the floor dead. Yet, the man in charge was only thinking one thing. Magnificent. He couldn't believe his eyes. That child had killed approximately 10 people in a room with so much as moving a muscle or a weapon near. He was used to good fighters, but this was a whole new level. She was the future, and seeing Shi-oh walk right up to her and help was just simply the best. The young boy whole showed promise faithfully in love with the girl who had mysterious abilities all in his hands. Seems everything would work out. "My precious дети." Oo, did he have plans for them. They would take everything, their futures were so bright. He would make sure they stayed on the path.

Present time

I stepped out of my car, grabbing my cat. All gifts from a certain someone whom I was visiting. Noticing a black jeep trying to be secretive, yet I paid no mind to it. Making my way inside of the building. Needing no introduction considering everyone knows who I am. Or just my status, one would say. "He is right in his office ma'am though he is busy with a worker." His secretary tells me while looking around nervously. "Never too busy for me, though, right?" He just nods and leads me to the door. We make it there with him trying to knock before I feel like this is all taking too long and pushing the door open. I hear him telling me to wait a moment, but it falls to deaf ears. I walked in, noticing now while he wanted me to wait. A girl around my height is sitting down, talking to Shi-oh. They haven't noticed me yet, so I sat there and waited in silence until she passed him her phone and he put his number in. Eventually, she leaves while she notices my presence and smiles at me while saying hi. I give her a fake smile and walk father in the room.

"The fuck was that, huh?" He turns around finally seeing me. Walking over and hugging while lifting me off the ground. Still holding me the air, which is easy due to our size difference. "My beautiful лепесток. What are you doing here?" I stared at him. He always had a habit of making it difficult to angry at him. "I was coming to see you." I motion for him to lower me down, and I sit my cat on the floor. Watching it walk around the office, I get startled again when he picks me up and sits down in his chair at his desk with me on his lap. "Before you get ready to hurt me, I was simply recruiting her to a higher position." I poke my finger deeply into his chest. "Why you wanna fuck her?" He slowly looks up, as if he is thinking about the question. While he is doing that, the objects start to lift around the room, and he takes notice. "No,I don't want to fuck her or anything like that. But she is strong, very strong. I've seen it first hand лепесток. She will be uselful." I simply smile at him before I peck his lips.

Moving closer on his lap, I start to slowly kiss his lips again. Getting lost in the plump lips I love so much. Before he reaches my face to take my shades off. He lowers his hands and grips my hips. "You are so fucking beautiful, baby. Why the fuck would I want her when I have all this." I start to grind on his lap, while the desk moves backward. Needing more room. "And don't you forget it. Gonna change the world, baby."

I'll post every Saturday for this story.

Taglist: @seonghwaexile

[aimedis]

redacted characters as things in my journal 🎀

relatively big tw - there's like vague to explicit mentions of su!cid3 and heavily implied mental self-esteem struggles in this one (i'm alright at the moment, promise) so if that's triggering to you, don't read. this is kinda heavy and maybe disturbing to read to some people i think.

i decided to do this because i though it was kinda fun and cool to like analyse my stuff and the characters a little bit. sorry if this offends anyone ig? idk 😭 i'll be back with the more lighthearted stuff in a couple days okay let's go ->

darlin: "my feelings aren't in my control most of the time. i don't know why i feel this way."

angel before they broke up with micheal: "i think is funny (but i also feel bad) that he's always talking about "getting married" and "forever" when i have a break up letter sitting in my notes."

freelancer: lyrics to "making the bed - olivia rodirgo"

darlin: "i don't wanna talk about him anymore."

damien: "i just want my mom. and i wish i could go up to her just bawling my fucking eyes out like i'm five-years-old without feeling like a fucking failure but i can't... i've survived long enough and i can do it some more."

darlin before sam: "and a part of me will always miss what once was or could have been. but i know they will never be long term, permanent, or reality. i wasn't created to have a happy ending... but i'm okay with this. it makes it easier to slip away and disappear."

cutie: i don't know what so say really. i just feel empty and alone often. i feel out of place. i feel like everything i do is humiliating or straight up wrong. i don't know what's wrong with me."

gavin: "try as i might, i still feel like i am not in my body. living vicariously... through myself?"

baabe: "i should know. my dad didn't want me enough to stay."

lasko: "man what a fucking baby. stop crying over shit that hasn't even happened."

damien before huxley: "i wish i was dead. do you think if [mom] knew she'd wish that too?" (knew that he was gay)

lovely: lyrics to "strangers - ethel cain"

darlin: "i hope it's not my fault when it's all over. i want one thing to not be my fault. but it probably will be."

angel: "why am i crying. again. over and over and over again. it's all i ever do. cry about this or cry about that."

milo post-inversion: "this hurts a lot more than i thought. the thought of feeling like this forever? it sucks."

freelancer: "fucking kill me. i can't breathe."

sam: "is it wrong to think i don't deserve this or that it's not my fault?"

lasko: "it feels like i'm always apologizing."

david: "it really hurts when i need to talk to [him] so bad but i can't."

huxley post-inversion/xavier's death: "is it just always going to feel like this? holy shit this hurts."

damien: "i'm sorry, mom, i'm sorry."

vincent: "the real me? i don't know who that is anymore."

angel: "one more or one less, nobody's worried. my tummy hurts."

darlin before sam: "i don't plan on feeling like this again. i don't plan on "being in love" ever again. as if i know what that feels like... it makes me feel like shit all the time."

cutie: "after this, i'll go back to being alone. like god intended."

asset: "it's kind of sad how i don't even feel like a person sometimes."

lovely: "every so often it hurts so much i think it's gonna rip me apart from the inside."

asher post-inversion: "and it's like, sometimes it straight up feels like i'm gonna die in that moment."

sweetheart: "my greatest sin to men was being a child."

damien: lyrics to "forwards beckon rebound - adrianne lenker"