#SHE HAS A FAMILY SHE CAN NEVER GO BACK TO AND SHE HAS TO LIVE WITH THAT!!!!

[nooby1332c]

KPDH AU where Celine dies before she helps the girls become idols / before huntrix meet each other

(Or: they form their own ragtag group)

RUMI

Celine still adopts Rumi and teaches her about basic demon hunting stuff until Rumi's around 10 yrs old when they get ambushed and Celine gets killed by demons (it was targeted. Rumi was with her and she blames herself)

(Celine's last words were not comforting)

With no remaining relatives — Rumi gets sent to the orphanage, frequently sneaking out at night to hunt demons on her own.

It's easy to hide her patterns there, the caretakers are too busy with the other kids, and she's a quiet and obedient kid so they dont worry about keeping her in check.

(It’s difficult, not having teammates. No one helps her when she gets hurt, no one teaches her when she messes up, no one has her back when she needs protection)

(she is so alone)

Thankfully, after the strong demon army Gwi-Ma sent after Celine (that they defeated), he could only send weak ones for now.

(The third sunlight sister still hunts. But she is grieving and she can’t bear to look at Rumi. The demon child is the common denomimator in both of her soulmate's deaths, if it weren’t chosen by the honmoon she would have killed it long ago.)

She doesnt have friends, not really. She likes them and they think she's neat don't seem to hate her at least, but she is afraid of getting close to anyone.

No one adopts her; she turns the legal age, some wacky legal stuff later, and she lives alone in the Hunters' house, near their shrine.

No one adopts her; she thinks about how everyone who's ever cared for her has died, and she realizes it's better this way.

She continues to fight demons alone; after living in the rowdy and cramped orphanage, being alone in the silent shrine is suffocating.

She likes going to nightclubs — not to drink or to party, but to be near people.

She would sit on a chair at a corner, watch the cramped dance floor, let the noise and the lights and the vibrations fill her senses, and pretend it's all she needs to stop feeling lonely.

She likes to observe the way the honmoon behaves around large groups of people, the way it weaves itself to the shape of the music connecting them.

Her favorite times are when a particularly popular song would play and people would sing together (and there's a barely noticable shift in the air, but she can feel the souls lighting up, just barely — and the honmoon would hum in harmony)

Sometimes when she gets hurt, she would go to the counter and ask for some ice. The bartender would tease her for getting into fights so often (he knows it's a fight from the bruises on her knuckles, is thankful she defends herself at least. He still worries though, what does she get herself into?)

He talks to her. When he realized she isn't going to answer any of his questions or tell him anything, he just told her his stories. He has a lot of those thankfully, and he noticed she like to hear about them.

(Rumi isn't the only one who likes to visit nightclubs...)

MIRA

Mira did ballet as a child. She liked it and now she's into hip-hop, and well, every other dance form. There's no end to learning when it comes to art, is there?

It's exciting, it’s fulfilling — in ways living with her family never could be. She's almost glad they kicked her out. (Almost.)

She loves dance, follows where it takes her — theatres, streetdancers, alleyways, nightclubs

She sees her at the corner of the nightclub.

Well, she always sees her at the corner of the nightclub, never drinking or dancing, always with cuts or bruises, always alone.

Except sometimes when she's talking to (listening to?) the bartender, ice pack over her head or face.

Mira doesn’t know how or why, but she thinks the stranger looks happier those times.

She would hear a melody like a lyre in the back of her head, white strings appears in the corner of her vision then fades in the sound of the bass and the lights of the club.

Mira doesn’t know how or why, but it felt like a thank you.

She thinks then, that despite all the people, this club would feel a bit emptier without the quiet stranger.

Today was different. There's an electric thrumming in the air, raising the hair on the back of her neck and telling her that something is wrong.

Mira sees the girl run out of the club.

Normally, she wouldn’t care.

Normally, she would mind her own business.

But there's a pounding beat all around her like a warning and her instincts are screaming at her to follow, and maybe, today is not normal.

She follows.

ZOEY

It took Zoey 16 years to realize that she didn't quite belong in America.

It took her 8 months to realize that she does not exactly fit in in Korea.

(It took her less than that to realize that there is no place for her in the dead silence of her father's house.)

And it took her 2 days to come to the realization that there was definitely no place for her in the streets.

I mean... are those DEMONS??? Those have got to be demons right?? With horns and claws and everything! Wait are they—

Oh no.

They're looking at her.

So basically the demons chase Zoey around, she runs and throws some rocks and other stuff (they all hit, she has a good aim) but they dont help her much.

When they come close and are seconds away from sucking Zoey's soul out of her body, a melody plays in the back of her head (it sounds like companionship, like safety.)

(It sounds like being whole after a lifetime of missing something without knowing.)

She grasps at the air, tugs at the strands she can feel at the edge of her fingertips,

icy cold handles and fiery hot blades meets her calloused hands — and she throws.

She's able to keep them at bay, for a bit, but she is one girl who doesn’t know what the hell she's doing and they are a horde of demons (who have gotten more desperate when they saw her summon a weapon)

A demon comes close to sllicing her with its club, Zoey braces for impact

but before it can harm her, a metal pipe hits its head — and there stands Mira, shaking, afraid, and really freakin confused — but her entire being is screaming at her to fight so she does.

(There's a fire burning in Mira's chest, it burns to protect.)

Rumi comes to save them, her own starlight sword in her hands, cuts down more enemies than either of them could combined

but she is one girl and Zoey is sloppy and Mira is vulnerable, and there are more and more demons coming then there usually were when she was alone

Rumi comes to save them but she needs saving too

(There's a fire burning in Mira's chest, it aches to protect.)

She reaches in deep within to the hearth of the fire, where her love and passion and anger lies

she grabs the strings that sit at the edge of her vision, beyond her reach

and she forges her future, shapes it in her hands

blade like icy fire and freezing burns, the starlight weapon thrums and comes alive in her hands.

Somewhere distant, an old hunter hears a melody in the air, a song she hasn't heard in a decade. The honmoon sings has chosen, and its hunters has met at last.

[powderpinkprincess]

Safe Haven - six [Carlos Sainz & daughter!OC]

Carlos Sainz never expected to become a single dad, but when three-year-old Isa is suddenly left in his care, he’s forced to face the truth about what she’s been through… And what kind of father he’s willing to become. A story about family, healing, and learning to parent in the fast lane. find the list of chapters here & send me a sign if you want to be added to the taglist:)

After reading the results, Carlos’s lawyer organized an emergency appointment with the psychologist he knew within two days. Julie Berger was experienced with early childhood trauma, and she was based right in Monte Carlo.

The best would’ve been if Carlos had met her without Isa, so Mrs. Berger could do the first interview as it was professionally required. But Carlos didn’t know anyone yet who could watch Isa while he wasn’t around, and he wasn’t even sure it was possible without Isa panicking.

He ended up writing Mrs. Berger a lengthy letter, attaching everything he had about Isa’s case, and they agreed that Mrs. Berger’s coworker would conduct the first interview with him while she observed Isa.

Mrs. Berger’s office was sunlit and warm. The soft wood tones and pastel pictures on the walls channelled nothing but safety. Yet as Carlos sat on the small couch with Isa beside him, her body curled tight against his side, thumb in her mouth, he couldn’t feel further from calm. This was the first time that while Isa was in Monaco with him, Carlos was going to let her out of his sight with someone else.

Mrs. Berger smiled gently at them both. “Carlos, if it’s alright, my colleague, Ms. Arnaud, is ready to speak with you. I’ll stay here with Isabel. We’ll just play a little.”

Carlos hesitated. Isa gripped his shirt instantly, her eyes sharp with panic. Her thumb popped from her mouth.

 “No.”

 “It’s just a short talk, mi amor,” he murmured. “Papá will come right back.”

 “Don’t go,” she said, frantic. “Don’t go.”

Carlos crouched in front of her, hands on her little knees. “You’re safe here. I promise. Look, Mrs. Berger has even more crayons than you do at home. And I’ll be back very soon.”

Isa’s breathing was quick and shallow now. Her eyes darted between Carlos and Mrs. Berger, trying to measure how true this could be.

When Carlos finally stood and stepped toward the door, Isa’s silence shattered. She bolted from the couch, ran after him, fists hitting his legs furiously. “NO! Don’t go, don’t go, don’t go!”

Julie Berger remained calm. She didn’t interfere, just gently stepped closer and knelt on the rug, as if simply waiting for gravity to pull Isa’s energy back down.

 “I’m right next door,” Carlos promised, crouching again. “You can show me everything you draw. You’ll be okay.”

Isa’s little body was rigid as Carlos peeled her off him. She didn’t cry; she trembled. When he left, she stood frozen in the middle of the room, her fists tight at her sides. Mrs. Berger didn’t rush. She sat cross-legged on the carpet, holding a box of small wooden animals.

 “I wonder which one lives closest to the sea,” she said softly.

Isa didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Ten minutes passed before she sat down. Another five before she touched a toy. She didn’t look at Mrs. Berger once, but she played.

Carlos reentered the room 45 minutes later, led back in by Ms. Arnaud. Isa was on the floor, legs spread out, quietly stacking some blocks now.

When she heard the door, she didn’t turn. She didn’t light up or run to him. Instead, she froze.

The blocks slipped from her hands. And then, she pushed herself up from the rug, but instead of walking up to Carlos, she hurried to the furthest corner of the room. She didn’t even look at him. Her thumb slipped into her mouth again as she stubbornly stared at her shoes, her face rigid.

Carlos blinked. “Isa?”

She didn’t answer. It was like she didn’t even hear him. Carlos knew she did.

Mrs. Berger stood as well, gently nodding to him. “It’s alright.”

Carlos crossed the room slowly. “Mi amor, it’s Papá. I’m here. I came back. I promised I would, remember?”

No answer.

When he crouched behind her and reached out to touch her arm, she suddenly turned and smacked his hand away, her eyes watering. But then almost immediately, she flung herself into his arms with force, like she’d only now registered he was real. Her arms gripped his neck tightly. Her breath was sharp, hitching.

 “Okay, okay,” Carlos whispered, swallowing hard as he held her. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere now.”

He gently lifted her and sat on the couch with her. Her thumb immediately found her mouth again, and she gripped his shirt tight in her other fist, letting out small, hiccupping breaths. Yet she didn’t look at Carlos. She kept staring at the rug in the middle of the room, her body tense as if she was waiting for something to happen.

Mrs. Berger gave them space, waiting until Isa was a bit more relaxed in his arms, then gently sat back down across from them.

 “Carlos,” she began softly. “I remember you wrote about this kind of behaviour in your email. I know it’s confusing when she clings to you and lashes out at the same time. When she hits or screams, but won’t let go of your shirt.” She offered a warm, sad smile. “But that’s not a contradiction for a child like Isa. It’s a survival instinct.”

Carlos looked up at her, brow tense, one hand stroking Isa’s hair.

 “She’s had to internalize that the people she needs most might vanish,” Mrs. Berger continued. “She learned that love can disappear overnight, literally. Her mother’s absence when she went out without her during those two or more months taught her that she can’t trust the world to stay consistent. And children that age can’t regulate that kind of fear. So now, when she’s overwhelmed, the wires in her brain kind of cross.”

 “She gets mad at me for leaving,” Carlos murmured. “Even if I’m in the next room. She does that at home, too.”

 “She panics that you’ve left for good,” Mrs. Berger said. “But she doesn’t want you to see her scared. So, she lashes out. That’s what we call disorganized attachment. When her brain senses loss, even if it’s just perceived, she goes into fight, flight, or cling, all at once. That’s why she hits you sometimes when you comfort her. Her body’s screaming don’t leave me and don’t touch me at the same time.”

Carlos looked down. Isa had fallen silent, but he felt her breathing hard through her nose, thumb still shoved in her mouth, face buried against his chest.

 “She sleeps with me,” he admitted quietly. “I tried to put her in her own bed, but it doesn’t work anymore. She used to sleep in her room before, but now she can’t. She won’t let me leave her room. I tried to stay only until she fell asleep, but she woke up screaming. She used to come and find me or call for me if she woke up, and I always came. Always. Now she has a complete meltdown if she wakes up alone before even trying to call for me.”

“She was left alone at night for a long time, Carlos,” Mrs. Berger said gently. “Her body remembers that. Even if she can’t explain it. Even if she’s not in Britain anymore. This trauma is rooted too deep to think rationally if she wakes up alone at night.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and held her tighter. His throat felt tight again. He couldn’t bear the thought of his little girl alone in that house, crying for her mother until she learned that there was no use. Her mom wouldn’t appear in her doorway, and she didn’t know where she was or when she was going to come back. If she was going to come back at all.

But Vivian sometimes gave her a cookie if she didn’t cry, as Isa said. Carlos had to swallow again to fight back the tears.

 “You’re not spoiling her by staying close,” Mrs. Berger added, sensing the hidden meaning behind his words. “You’re rebuilding her sense of safety. And she’s not manipulating you. She’s surviving. I know some people on the internet say she shouldn’t sleep in the same bed with her parent anymore, but this isn’t a setback. This is a way to cope, and it’s the best you can do for her.”

Carlos nodded slowly.

 “She’ll need therapy,” Mrs. Berger continued. “But what you’re doing now, just being there, over and over, is already healing her more than you can see. You just have to keep showing up for her.”

Carlos bit down on his lip before he opened his mouth to speak. “And Vivian…?”

He didn’t know how to ask with Isa being there in his lap, but he needed to know. He needed a sign if Mrs. Berger was going to send her back or not. Of course, Mrs. Berger understood his wordless plea. She didn’t say anything, just shook her head a little.

And with that, it was almost final. Isa won’t go back.

---

Carlos knew that Vivian got the notice from the court. And it wasn’t because Alexandre told him that she did.

A week later, Isa was down for an afternoon nap, curled in Carlos’s bed with her stuffed bunny pressed to her cheek. He’d just stepped out onto the patio, coffee in hand, when he saw her.

Right on his driveway.

Vivian was yelling before he could even open his mouth to speak. “I’m taking her home! This is ridiculous! Isa is my daughter!” She took a step forward, but she stumbled, barely steady on her feet.

She was drunk.

Carlos stayed quiet, mostly from the shock of seeing her there. He placed his mug on the windowsill, and when he turned back to Vivian, he noticed the shards of glass not far from where she was standing.

 “I’ve let you play Dad for a while, okay? But I didn’t agree to… Whatever this is. I didn’t agree to custody. I just needed a break. And now I’m ready to be her mom again. You took advantage of me not thinking straight, and now you’re using it to keep her from me? You don’t get to do that. I’m taking her home.”

 “Vivian, you need to leave. Now. You’re drunk,” Carlos stated. “If someone finds you here like this, you’ll be in trouble. If you want to see her again soon, you have to leave right now.”

 “I don’t know what you’ve said to those people- Or what Isa had said to you- She is dramatic. She always has been. I just needed a break!” She lost her balance again, leaning against the fence for a brief second.

 “Vivian…” Carlos tried again, his patience thinning. He glanced up behind his shoulder. The last thing he needed was Isa waking up to this. But Vivian just kept going.

 “And you think you’re perfect? You’re barely there with all your races. What, you’re gonna raise her in a paddock now? You don’t even know how to be a father! You never even wanted her!” she screamed. Then she picked up a huge rock from his pathway and threw it right against the windshield of his car.

Carlos’s jaw clenched. He knew he had to act fast. He didn’t want Isa to wake up and see her mother like this. He also couldn’t allow a stranger to get involved in their business by alerting the police. He had no idea how that would affect Isa’s case. He didn’t want her to lose her mom. He just wanted her to be safe.

He stepped forward, deliberately keeping himself between Vivian and the house. “Vivian, for your sake, please leave. Otherwise, I’m calling the police before someone else does.”

 “Do it!” she yelled. “Let’s see who they believe! The mother of this child or just some guy who takes her for a weekend a month?!”

Carlos had already pulled out his phone. “Last chance. Leave before you make things worse for you and Isa. If the police catch you here like this, I can’t guarantee how you are going to see her.”

Vivian took a step closer. “I’m going inside. I’m taking her right now.”

Carlos dialled the number.

Within minutes, the sirens sounded, growing louder as a patrol car turned the corner. Two officers stepped out, calm but firm. “Madam, we need you to step away from the property.”

Vivian turned, eyes burning with rage.

 “He’s kidnapping my kid!” she snarled. “And you’re all letting him!”

The officers tried to deescalate, but she was already unhinged. She was cursing, throwing rocks at Carlos’s car. When one officer moved to gently take her arm, she slapped him across the face.

That was it. She was handcuffed.

Carlos stood frozen as they guided her, still shrieking, into the backseat of the patrol car. The chaos faded down the road, but his body didn’t stop trembling.

He looked back toward the window. Isa hadn’t woken up.

Thank God.

chapter seven

lovely little pumpkins: @guacala @dreaming-starlet @freyathehuntress @smithieandy @maggiedog98 @ndiff

[chefkids]

do you think it's signficant that ayo (& maybe lionel) wrote the whole "so you have a crush" / "not a crush" dialogue in "worms"? like, why would she even include that? if ayo hates sydcarmy so much why would she fan the flames like that??

Sydney does not have a crush on Carmy.

Claire has a crush on Carmy.

Their relationship is a brief and intense infatuation. It's immature and in many ways feels unattainable to both of them because they could never have it when they were younger.

Carmy was not even certain he loved her right before accidentally breaking up with her. The whole relationship is fleeting and based mostly on nostalgia and family pressure and guilt rather than any real emotional bond that they have ever had.

We are constantly told how long they've known each other but they barely have any real conversations about his issues and she constantly just tries to joke past them. The only thing we hear about is anecdotes about Mikey or Richie or Fak. She was never even actually there for him or his family when all that horrible shit happened. She wasn't at the funeral, she never reached out to him. Obviously they care about each other, but she only keeps coming back to try and date him to fulfill a fantasy they both have. He starts to open up to her because she tells him if he does their relationship will get better, but there's really nothing to it because neither actually wants to dive deeper, they are just going through the motions. She just wants him to hurry up and move past all of it.

That is why it feels so flat when they tell each other that they love each other. There is nothing to substantiate it and he is just literally repeating to her what she wants to hear and what she tells him to do because he thinks it will fix him and it's the easiest thing to do even though being with her is hard. There is nothing selfless about their relationship.

It was/is selfish on both their parts. Claire wants him to be her boyfriend more than she actually wants to be his friend and just support him. He gave clear signs that he didn't want to or wasn't ready to date her with that fake number but she selfishly chose to ignore them. She put him in situations she knew he wasn't comfortable in, like that party, because she is the one that wanted to be there.

Carmy keeps going out with her because he feels like he owes it to Mikey and his family, but he also selfishly wants a distraction from the restaurant and his trauma and from Sydney. He is literally addicted to chaos and tries to get back with her as soon as things are getting good in his life. He is too scared to try to find his spark in cooking again, because every time he starts to get inspiration it is centered around Syd. So he keeps selfishly reaching back for Claire like he did after he made the polka dot dish and tried to call her. He says he wants to run right into his trauma but he was literally running away from his mother and running right back to Claire right until Syd gave him no choice but to see Donna.

Sydney and Carmy are way past the crush phase. They are literally devoting their lives to each other. They are planning their futures around each other and doing everything they can to make each other happy and reach their goals and make eachother better. They stick by each other selflessly even when they know it's not logical and know that it would make more sense for her to just go work somewhere else or for him to have told her no they're not going to try for a star. They are both literally willing to risk it all for each other.

Carmy pushed to have The Bear built and try for a star even when he knew it wasn't completely logical or obtainable or easy or enjoyable for him because he wanted Sydney to have it, because he genuinely loves her without having anyone hold it over his head or push him to do it. Sydney let him act like a psycho because she genuinely believes in him and still puts up with his bullshit and still wants him there even though it would probably be easier to not have him there because she loves him beyond just what he can do or give to her.

Carmy is removing himself from it because he does not want to ruin it for her or everyone else. They have chosen to let eachother into their lives beyond work and he wants to be there for her as a "friend" even though they are way past that at this point. Their connection is way beyond thinking they're cute and having a crush. They love each other for real and they do not even need to say the words for us to feel it.

[sinsofnivan]

I'm so obsessed with your writing (>⩊<) Can you please make one of dilf Chris… re8 or death island, being a needy husband after a mission and just wanting to spend the whole night with his beloved wife in bed yk yk yk (I just need this man)

tags: dilf ! chris, fem bodied reader, fingering, overstim, dumbification, chris is PUSSY WHIPPPEDDDDDD, lovey dovey porn . . fluff, silliness, a hint of domesticity :3

the highlight of dilf! chris’s day is always when it’s about to end—ironic, yes—when he steps into your shared home and the scent of you and your cooking greets him and his nostrils. it wouldn’t be long before small, hurried steps rush over to him, clinging onto his built leg.

“da-da!” she’s weightless, your daughter, raised in the air like a trophy as chris holds her in his arms. “honey, i’m home,” stereotypical. cliche. but it felt good saying it. after all, chris never thought he’d be able to have anyone to say that to. “i can tell, baby,”

after your daughter comes you. his beloved wife, his dream girl—peeking through the kitchen. “hey, beautiful,” he’s already striding, impatient. chris can’t wait to hold both of his girls in his arms. you take in your husband’s familiar scent of gunpowder and bourbon. chris kisses your forehead.

“you’re just in time for dinner. c’mon,” this—this small gathering, this catch up—was the beginning. he loved to listen after a long day at work ordering people. chris intently listened while your daughter explained her A+ drawing. “mhm? what about this, baby? what’s this . . orange looking thing?” “oh, so that’s . . ” his big hand rests atop yours, caressing your ringed finger. squeeze. chris's very own way to give you attention while he's lending an ear to your yapping daughter. another squeeze. i love you.

the night progresses faster than he expected. before he even realizes it, your baby girl's fast asleep, the dishes are clean and put away, and locks are double-checked right before the lights are shut off.

and the both of you? well.

── ⟢ ・⸝�� ──

"i really missed you,"

his lips ghost your shoulder blade, puling your frame close as he spoons you. this moment, you, the family you gave him—this is what he lives for. what keeps him going.

"i missed you too, baby," his hand, clasped by yours, is brought to your lips as you leave kisses on his scarred knuckles. "i need you . . " there's no mistaking the erection grinding against your rear, or the now-free hand groping your breast.

"you have me,"

the kisses trail up your neck, and you're soon laid on your back as chris hovers atop you. the second your eyes meet, you're both closing the interstice between your bodies—lips meeting, arms cradling each other.

"mhhf,"

tongue greets tongue, and chris can't stop touching you, feel your warmth, your curves, under his palm. he missed this—yes, even though he comes to you almost every night. his cock's poking through his boxers, shamelessly rubbing himself on your inner thighs.

you break away, panting, lips glistening with mixed spit. chris doesn't hesitate to shift his kisses elsewhere. cheek. jawline. neck. "i wanna taste you, y/n," you can hear him hiss when your smaller palm cradles his bulge—eliciting a chuckle from you.

"but you just got home from work. aren't you tired?"

"for you?"

you both giggle, and chris buries his face in the crook of your neck again.

"never, baby. besides, when has that been an issue?" okay, touché—back then, before you two got married, he didn't even get rid of his gear first or wait 'til you both got in the bedroom.

for you, he always had the time and the energy. especially when it was to delve his tongue in between creamy folds.

and that's exactly how you find yourself. panties hanging from your ankle, digits interlaced together as he held your hands, built arms hooked around your thighs.

you tried your very best to keep it down, to stifle your moans. under different circumstances, you would've let these noises echo in your bedroom. but for now—

"shh, shh, baby,"

chris taunts, like he's not fuckin' brushing his nose against your clit, like his tongue wasn't jus' lapping up your twitching slit. "chris," you squeezed his hand. he only hummed, gliding his tongue up 'n down your pretty hole before lettin' it slide in you.

this is the only rare time you're thankful he lets go of your hand, because the moment a thumb began to caress your clit, you're slapping a palm on your mouth, to suppress the louder moans that dare come out.

if only chris could see you—you with your arched back, eyes lidded and brows scrunched up—it would have triggered something feral in him for sure. but he's too occupied, eyes closed while he savours your sweet taste, his favourite meal.

"mmmf,"

his colleagues said that he would eventually get tired of his wife, that he deserved to taste and feel something new. but they couldn't be more wrong. you were just as delicious. maybe even more delicious with the fact that you were his wife.

the pleasure stops, jus' for a bit. this gives you time to take a quick breather. "you okay?" chris peers up at you. you can faintly see his silhouette under the moonlight. "mhm, mhm. 'm just trying to keep quiet,” his deep chuckle buzzes against your skin.

"well, you gotta try harder." cheeky. you pinch his hand and he only lets out a playful yelp. in return, his lips envelop your clit—suckling hard. you almost squeal, immediately back to covering your mouth with your palm. he doesn't stop there, sliding a thick digit into your cunt and barely waiting for you to adjust to his phalange as he begins to piston it in and out of your dripping hole.

he was right—you did need to try harder. because, fuck—the noises easily slip past your lips, all thanks to his tongue and fingers that worked fucking wonders. "h, hnn—, chris . . " you groan. there's no mistaking the familiar tightening in your stomach. your hips grind against him, his face as you ache for more. aural confirmation wasn't needed, not right now, when your body said enough. chris only hums, gaze fixed on you and only on you. he adores how your body compensates for the lack of verbal expressions, fuuuuck . .

his hand breaks free from your grasp, only to caress your stomach and squeeze your tummy in his big hand. you were such a good wife to him—taking care of him and giving him the family he wanted—oh my god, his cock was leaking in his trousers.

it's like something feral has set off in him, and despite the fatigue in not just his arm and jaw—but his whole body, too—he wants nothing but to bring his wife—you—to your well-deserved peak. be a good husband as he should.

"oh, chris—♡,"

you whimpered softly, vox not above a shout. both hands cradle his head, sometimes tugging on soft, short hair, while you bite on your lower brim to suppress these filthy noises. "'m close," you whine, but he only wordlessly nods, allowing his jaw some respite as his tongue begins to swirl on that sensitive bud. he adds a second digit—and it slides in easily with the help of the mess he made. you and chris both let out restrained groans.

the coil in your stomach jus' gets stronger 'n more palpable, with thick digits ramming in and out of you so mercilessly.

there's not much of a choice but to succumb to this pleasure, letting those pretty eyes roll back, your palm muting every whimper as your hips grind against him. another stroke of his fingers, you're gushing—back beautifully arched as you make a mess all over his face and digits. chris doesn't complain—will never complain—lapping you up so eagerly.

"mmh, fuck,"

sweet—too sweet. nothing will ever satiate this greed of his. chris hungrily caresses your body, every trembling part of you greeted with the warmth of his palm and a squeeze. "oh, chris," you softly whine, letting your hand rest upon his.

chris begins to cover your thighs in kisses, stubble brushing against your soft skin. it wasn't long 'til he's made his way up to your abdomen, leaving kiss after kiss after kiss before he hiked up higher to your breasts, collarbone, jaw . .

"hey, handsome,"

his cheek is nicely cradled, a thumb caressing his face as you both chuckle. "hey, gorgeous," he pecks your lips, but can’t help himself from devouring them. his tongue tastes like you. your legs find themselves wrapped around his waist, closing any gap between your bodies and letting his still-clad bulge press against your dripping cunt.

"you're so beautiful, mrs. redfield," chris says once your lips have parted. "uh-huh. you sayin' that t'get in my pants?" you coo, reaching over to tug on his boxers. "clearly, it's working."

chris sits up for a moment, raising one leg and resting it on his chest. not even your ankle—leg, actually—was safe from his kisses, other hand completely pulling his boxers down; his leaking cock springing free.

"i love you so much,"

"i love you too . . "

holding his cock by the base, he slaps the thick girth atop your cunt. you can hear just how wet you still are with every audible collision. soon, it was his tip rubbing against your slit, lathering his crown with your juices.

"put it inn," you huff, and chris only smiles at your impatience. as requested, the tip sinks into your folds. a sound blooms—slick, obscene—showing just how badly you needed and wanted your husband.

"you're so wet," a groan leaves his lips as he hovers atop you, taking a thigh with him and letting it press against your chest. he loves watching your eyes flutter as he further stretches you out. "oh, fu—," a palm is clamped over your mouth, immediately silencing your loud moans. he can't really blame you, because he was havin' trouble keeping himself quiet, too.

"shh, shh, b, baby,"

chris whines like he isn’t slamming himself into you with a single push of his hips. how couldn't you moan, when the tip of his cock presses against your fucking cervix? it always surprises you how big and how thick he is, and judging at the look on chris's face, it surprises him too.

"so tight—fuck, oh my god,"

he drags himself out, slowly and carefully, but the instant he plunges himself back into you, something jus' snaps and he can't fucking control himself, can't stop—won't stop fucking you. chris lifts his hand, jus' so he can rest them on the sides of your head. you're not sure if it's a good idea; it was harder to contain your moans, more than ever.

"chris—oh, fuck. feels good," you whimper, not daring to look away from your husband's face. "yeah? love my cock, baby?" you could only nod, distrustful of your mouth. "me too—me too. love you. love your pussy," chris is rambling, mindless praise slipping fro his mouth without proper thought. he keeps pounding you, making sure every thrust leaves you fucking stuffed. your whole body rocked, wood softly and subtly groaning under the weight of it all.

every thrust leaves you breathless and slack-jawed, and chris, ever the opportunist, crashes his mouth on yours; his tongue moving on its own, and invading your mouth. you couldn't catch your breath—not when you gladly returned his messy kiss.

"mhfff,"

mewled his wife—you—while you lewdly sucked on his tongue, indifferent with the saliva that smeared on your skins. a breather between reckless movements; you're granted a lungful when chris pauses. whatever logical, lucid thoughts he might've had are long, long gone now, consumed by the need to fuck you and make you feel so, so good.

a hand rises to guide your leg higher, completely folding you in half, body pliant 'neath his built frame. this was the favourite position chris loved having you in. he had the perfect view of your wide - eyed, fucked out look whilst feeling how your cunt lovingly clenched and sucked him in.

"you're so pretty, my pretty wife . . " he mutters, beginning to pummel into you again. you can't do anything but take it and leave crimson crescents on his biceps. "chris—fuckfuckfuck," you sobbed. it was taking everything in you to not scream his name like you usually did.

he was so—

"fucking deep . . ♡,"

each brush of his fat cock over your most sensitive spot makes your eyes roll, overwhelming pleasure making your legs quake and weak. "i k, know, sweetheart. i know. you can t, take it." he murmurs mindlessly, tongue lapping up at the spit on your chin. "my good wife. you're m, my good wife,"

his familiar timbre is thick with need and adoration, and despite it barely being above his room voice, you can hear how wrecked and desperate he is.

"y, y/n—you're so g, good t'me. fuuuck, fuuuck, look at you. so p, pretty,"

"chris . . h, haaah—, you feel so so good—♡!"

yes, it had been a long day at work. stressful. tiring. but he could never ever be too tired for you. especially for you, and it shows through the way he fucked you. hard. fast. like every muscle in his body didn't ache with fatigue.

chris drives himself in to the fucking hilt, staying in place and barely moving, forcing you to feel every inch of his throbbing girth, forcing you to feel the ring of cream that circled his base, that tip kissing your perky cervix. "so fucking p, proud of you, sweetheart. taking me like this. all mine, mine . . " you don't just feel like paradise. you are his paradise.

"chris—," was perhaps the few things you could properly mutter. "love you so much. i love you . . h, hnngg—breed me. give m, me your cum," chris watches as your hand drifts between your sweaty silhouettes, settling right above your tryst and beginning gentle circles on your puffy clit.

god, you're so fucking wet, and chris begins to pound you again—harsher 'nd meaner than ever. "my needy girl—d, do you wanna cum? cum on this dick, baby?" "yesyesyesyes, oh fuck. you f, fuck me so good, chris—♡," his balls are aching from the praise. it's hard to multitask, when you can barely think for yourself. and even moreso when—

"s, sucha good husband to me—i love being y, your wife—♡!"

and the feeling of him flooding your cunt was unmistakable. your husband's fucking salivating, filling your cunt to the brim as he cums—a little too early. "d, did you—," "mhm, m, mhm . . " overstimulation is quickly settling in, but his hips don't stop. he can't stop.

his brows are scrunched upward, temples glistening with sweat as he whimpers, body trembling as he continued to fuck you through his orgasm. "baby—b, baby—oh god. oh, fuck." he stuttered. "p, please cum. pleasepleasepleaseplease. s, so sensitive—," chris babbled, brushing your hand clumsily to the side. "no, noo . . l, let meee . . " he choked out, replacing your fingers with his own. he knew just where to touch you, how much pressure he should press against that clit.

he's twitching inside you, cock sensitive 'n swollen. each push in of his hips, each kiss of his tip on your cervix is making him gasp and shudder. "chriiiiis—you're g, gonna make me cuuum,"

chris claims your plump brims in another liplock—though, he's barely kissing you, only pulling your tongue in his mouth as he sucks on the wet appendage feverishly.

"mmphfh . . ♡!"

he jus' wants to make his wife feel good, make her feel so pretty 'n adored. didn't matter if his forearm ached with enervation, or his hips burned for respite. your needs come first, always first, before his, and anything else.

it only takes a rough pinch to your clit before you're cumming undone—hips bucking against him as you gush messily, sobbing and soaking him, yourself, 'n the sheets. ensuring your secrecy and silence, chris completely devours your lips, swallowing any loud scream that dared to reverberate 'round your room.

and it takes him aback—a second orgasm making his eyes fucking water. he's cumming so, so much, filling your womb and your cunt 'til it leaked down your ass. he's so sensitive it hurts.

chris slams into you with brutal force, hips crashing down at his full weight and pinning you in place. he coaxes another orgasm, makin' you squirt in small, uncontrollable streams. you're so fucked out—can't even think straight. you can only cling on to chris as you tremble, lips mashing messily with his as you both ride out your aftershocks.

he pulls away before he completely crushes you, easing your legs down slowly 'til both your feet were planted on the bed. "y, you okay?" chris asked, palms roaming your shivering body—thighs, hips, waist—and kneading potential sore spots. "m, mhm. tired," tired was an understatement. felt like your limbs were sinkin' into the bed from how heavy they felt.

"you?"

"good. never better."

he slips out with a languid drag, already missin' the warmth of your cunt by the time he completely withdrew from you. a tongue glissades over his lips, watching your gaping cunt twitch as cum drips from it almost immediately. "you came a lot," you tease, and chris feels the warmth in his cheeks bloom.

"you were so sexy, baby." he pecks your cheek right before capturing your lips in a gentle, sweet kiss, albeit short-lived. "mm. let's get you cleaned up," chris gets up—tries to, anyway—but his legs give out almost immediately, you didn't even have the chance to blink.

"chris! are you okay?!"

"i, i'm fine!"

end.

a/n: thank you for reading! and thank you to my beta readers for lending an extra hand!

[renamusing]

a little thing on robert's scheming and where it could go.

listen i know people are fed up with home farm because of the whites and robert's lunatic schemes back then, but i truly believe that, aside from aaron, home farm will always be robert's endgame bc in the grand scheme of things he needs to break the cycle of father/son trauma jack started and, for that to happen, robert has to deal with the father/son trauma he has with his own son, seb.

i mean, the mill was liv's house, first and foremost. they got it for her, so she could have a home. it was the embodiment of roblivion and, after robert went to prison, aaron and liv's dysfunctional relationship. to be quite honest with you, i'm done with the mill. it has served its purpose. i think it would be much more interesting character-wise to have robert eventually scheme whoever it is out of home farm so he can finally become the mr. emmerdale he always saw his father as and prove he can be the better man (plus robert will never be a farmer like jack but at home farm he could keep the theme and remain the white collar demon he is, bc lets be real robert will never be one of the silly villagers pulling pints or serving coffee for a living, like no disrespect, but that's just how it is)

then the sugden father/son trauma cycle could restart (bonus points if robert and aaron have an adopted kid by then for the andy/robert parallels) and that would give robert plenty of opportunities to right the wrongs of his father (which he will both succeed and fail at, just like jack did, because the whole point of their trauma cycle is for robert to understand that no, he isn't destined to become his father, but to understand that jack was just as fallible as he is and that maybe someday robert can find it in himself to forgive him) not to mention, a big home farm era would ensure ryan renewed his contract every year for the foreseeable because he would have to stay for divorce 4.0 and wedding 5.0 and reunion 9.0 and all future murder attempts.

and what murder attempts are those, you ask? well if andy returns we can put at least 2 in there for fun, and bc robert will be vying for something that has tate heritage attached to it (home farm and maybe the haulage too) caleb, kim and joe (if he stays that long) will also try to eliminate him, so we can put another 5 attempts in there. next, if the writers grow some balls and unearth the guy who robert had his bisexual awakening with when he was young (maybe he shows up at home farm again and now robert is the one in charge hehe), we will have aaron trying to kill both of them because cunty and possessive is my favorite aaron flavor, so there goes another one. then when seb is old enough, he will try to kill robert at least a couple of times bc that's how sugdens roll, they gotta have a little tension in the family innit.

and at this point you will say, wow rena you must be a terrible human being, just total irredeemable trash, because how could you wish this on robert and aaron after everything they went through, don't you want them to heal and live happily ever after with their kid(s)? and my answer will be yes, i want that so much, but i also need the toxic Juice™ to keep me going bc in 2018 they tried to tone them down after reunion 2.0 and my interest plummeted instantly. i will beg, cry and scream for them to never be boring again. i don't care how bad it gets, it's not like i will ever receive any financial compensation from itv to pay for my therapy bills, so fuck it.

they can pepper in a few comedic, light-hearted plots once in a while for dryan to clean house, have seb and eve parent-trap them 48374 times, robert lose it over aaron's cancer gene thing (the sleeper-cell plot that is going to kill us all), or finally give them (and by them i mean aaron) a dog. i want it all, but please never let them become boring again! don't leave me juiceless! if they take away robert's scheming and aaron's paranoia we wil be left with b-plots forever e.g. the big IVF bore, random illnesses, car accidents, rogue farm animals, or, god forbid, a surprise long-lost child from some random woman. the show is good now bc having robert back after so long allows them to weave a lot of intricate plots together and hold over us the will-they-won't-they robron carrot for as long as they want to, but i want to remind you that it can all get really bleak, really fast when the show shifts its main focus away from our favs.

so bring on the mess! bring on the drama! don't be afraid of bad robert and his stupid schemes. let us feast! we know robert can be good and honorable when he wants to, but he wouldn't be robert if he wasn't a chaos entity half the time. he needs enrichment (being a devil) to thrive (repent and grow). so don't let the home farm trauma of times past prevent you from enjoying the song of our people -> robron being messed up FOREVER.

like, not to get all poetic and shit, but robert was made to be icarus always reaching for the impossible (jack's approval), and aaron to be the sea that robert plunges back into (the unconditional love that makes robert sacrifice himself for). even after they reunite, robert won't stop being the scheming cunt he is. that's how he survived all those years after jack sent him away. scheming is his coping mechanism, and isn't it beautiful how aaron is the only one who can reason with him, the perfect opposite of jack, the one who always forgives him, the one who fills the sarah-shaped void in robert's heart [robert was and still is the only thing that ever mattered to aaron, HELLOOOO??! this is a direct quote from the man himself]. anw i just think seeing robert back in home farm would be a great opportunity to delve into his character and wipe the slate clean from all the white drama that happened there, also it wouldn't need to be forever?? the weirdest thing would be watching aaron living posh, but if dawn and billy got used to it, why not aaron? at least he would have enough space for his dog and the 192363638 kids he always wanted.

and it's not that i think robert would never find the motivation to scheme charity out of the pub, or jimmy/caleb from the haulage, or even eric from the store or whatever. it's just that, barring boring plots and a big rehaul of that village, i just don't see robert staying put, living in that ugly flat with aaron and having a social awareness storyline about his prison ptsd. he has too much potential for all that. why would we settle for broken meek robert when he can be all that while juggling at least five different scams at the same time so aaron can yell at him and they can fight and fuck about it?

im sorry i lost the plot halfway thru all this, but im always thinking about long-term robron now that ryan is back indefinitely, so my brain works in very aaronesque ways, hoping that robert will stay until they are 80 or something, and yeah i feel like im in the minority here, wishing every tragic crazy soap'y thing to be thrown at them, but it's only bc i know that at the end of the day it will always be aaron and robert against the world.

btw don't @ me if u don't enjoy mess. i will swallow boring naff robron if i have to because i love them any way, but this is soap man. if robert and aaron don't take turns on the crazy brain cell what's the point?

[cameronsbabydoll]

can you explain puppy and rafes psyche? like why is puppy so childish (not in a mean way i did the quiz and got puppy reader and i love love reading ur fics about her sm bc shes literally who i wish i could be (but obv u can’t acc act like puppy irl))

but like why won’t rafe just go for a normal girl like can u tell maybe the things he likes about her?

and how did puppy survive before rafe when it came to dating? is her first kiss and everything? and how do they meet?

also what type of fights do they have? like small arguments that normal couples have, what do rafe and puppy argue about instead of that?

thank you!! i think about them so much it’s a little unhealthy so id love to know heheh 🥥🥥

♡ puppy!reader’s psyche

puppy isn’t just “childish” — she’s emotionally dependent in a way that feels instinctive. she’s overwhelmed easily, sensitive, and needs constant reassurance. her mind flits from thing to thing, her attention span short unless something captures her heart.

why? probably because she grew up in a home where she was deeply loved, but not always understood. she was the “baby” of the family — literally or emotionally — and she learned that being cute and sweet got her praise and protection. so she leaned into that.

people probably always saw her as a little silly, and instead of pushing against it, she embraced it — found power in her softness, in her loyalty, in how much she loved being loved. she lives in a world of soft fabrics, snack bags, glittery lip gloss, voice memos, and belly-first love. she wants to be taken care of. she doesn’t hide it.

♡ why rafe loves her (even if he doesn’t say it)

rafe shouldn’t like puppy. she’s loud. clingy. too excitable. she talks too much. she cries too easily. she brings him juice boxes when he’s hungover and thinks a hello kitty band-aid can fix a bad day.

but here’s the truth:

she worships him.

she never questions if he’s good or bad — she just loves him.

she listens to him like he’s the smartest, strongest, most perfect man alive.

rafe has never had someone who’s this devoted. it makes him feel powerful, sure — but it also makes him feel safe. she clings to his hoodie sleeve when she’s scared. she lights up when he praises her. she forgives him when he’s gruff, or cold, or careless.

and deep down? she makes him feel like a protector, not a monster.

♡ how was puppy before rafe?

she probably never had real relationships. maybe a few little flirtations — boys who thought she was cute until they realized she wasn’t just “cutesy,” she was a lot. clingy. emotional. needy.

and she always got attached way too fast.

rafe might be her first everything.

first real kiss

first boyfriend

first heartbreak and first love, all rolled into one

she survived before him because she didn’t know what she was missing. she had her plushies, her stickers, her voice memos to herself. she dreamed about love — big, soft, fantasy love — but nothing ever stuck. until him.

♡ how do they meet?

she quite literally ran into him. she was at a party and got overwhelmed, clinging to the first tall, broad shape she saw in the dark. maybe she tripped over her own feet and he caught her.

maybe she sat next to him somewhere and started talking about the clouds.

she probably started calling him “daddy” before they were even dating, just out of instinct.

she probably told him “i love you” by accident way too soon.

and he should’ve run.

but he didn’t.

♡ what do they fight about?

they don’t fight like normal couples.

they don’t argue about bills, or schedules, or chores.

instead, rafe gets annoyed when:

she wanders off in public

she talks to strangers

she wears clothes that are too revealing

she makes messes in his car or forgets her bag

she gets so clingy he can’t move

and she gets sad when:

he talks to other girls

he ignores her when she’s trying to show him something

he scolds her too harshly

he tells her to “grow up” even though she doesn’t know how

and they always circle back to the same dynamic:

she pouts, sniffles, clings

he growls, grumbles, then caves

and somehow, she’s always curled up in his lap again ten minutes later

it’s a little toxic. it’s very co-dependent.

but it’s theirs.

and rafe?

he may mutter that he’s gonna get her a leash, or a muzzle, or send her to obedience school —

but when she’s crying in a hoodie two sizes too big, mumbling apologies into his chest?

he’s already forgiven her.

he always does.

[changingplumbob]

Second Round - Day Ten (BB) 2 of 2

@belsasim, @corrienteallita, @cawthorntales, @hashimasims, @ravingsockmonkey, @pixeldistractions - Sim creators and co-writers

Results based on charisma skill level.

Mariela (1.88)

Dee (2.12)

Kaye (2.36)

Harmony (2.61)

Billie (3.10) - Wins the date

Sarah (4.30) - Bonus points!

Dee: All that fuss for nothing, huh

Mariela: Ooof, I got rocked!

Dee: No jokes to cover the situation?

Mariela: Umm... Not really. I haven't had a date this round so I guess my nerves are just having a moment

Dee: There's still the group challenge, whatever that is. And you always talk to Deanna even if you're not on a date

Mariela: Hmm

Harmony: It was worth a shot and I did make something cute.

Kaye: Maybe I should hang out at GeekCon some more and get some pointers from the cosplayers for next time

Harmony: You looked so lifelike

Kaye: Thanks! I mean there's magic in the bloodline so I had some insider knowledge of how things should look. I think you should be applauded for standing in all that fire though

Harmony: *laughing* I was so worried I'd just fall face first into some of it

Sarah: Whatever happens, you can't fall in love with me *hands you a flower*

Billie: Game reference?

Sarah: Game reference

Billie: I feel really good. I finally won a date with Deanna doing something I really, really enjoyed. I wish I could wear my costume to the cafe!

Sarah: I wonder if we can take our costumes...

Billie: I'll distract them, and you grab

Billie has chosen the cafe for her date this round. It is her first time getting a date with the bachelorette, will things go well?

Deanna: I'm glad you liked the challenge

Billie: It was a lot of fun. I hope there's more artistic challenges in future

Deanna: Do you think you're mostly lucky or unlucky?

Billie: I consider myself pretty fortunate, but probably the biggest thing I need to work on is comparing myself to other people and wanting what they have

Deanna: Jealously can be tricky

Billie: Like at art school there was this girl who got everything, but her art was so derivative! My friends said 'Don't worry, she's on her own journey,' but she was in all my classes! It was hard to look at it from their perspective, but eventually I got my own art show, too

Deanna: Congratulations

Deanna: Can we get deep for a bit? My family believe in the watcher but I know not everyone does. Do you believe in fate, you know, destiny? Or do you think we're all at the mercy of some watcher?

Billie: I do think we're born to be certain things

Deanna: Like callings?

Billie: Exactly. I was probably destined to be an artist from the time I was small. I didn't like stacking my blocks, but I liked organizing them by colour, so I was probably always going to be an artist and not an engineer!

Deanna: *laughs* Definitely a good career choice for you then

Deanna: Say you can live anywhere. Where would you live?

Billie: I love Evergreen Harbour

Deanna: Never wanted to try anywhere else?

Billie: I'm a bit more laid back than cosmopolitan, but I think I'd probably enjoy an urban environment with a thriving art scene, like San Myshuno or Del Sol Valley. Probably. Maybe the traffic would be too much for me

Deanna: *laughs* Devin is always complaining about traffic

Deanna: I have to say I like being in Tartosa because it's close to my family. I could be persuaded to move if it was to somewhere stable, not constant packing and unpacking

Billie: I think Tartosa is beautiful, but the classical art isn't really my style. Don't get me wrong - I appreciate classic art forms, but grittier or more modern style is much more me

Deanna: *smiles* I can see that

Billie: If you couldn't do your robotics work in a place like Evergreen Harbour but wanted to be with me, I could be persuaded to move anywhere. All I need is an easel, right?

Deanna: I'm pretty sure I could build my robots anywhere *smiles*

When everyone is back at the villa it's time to work on their skills. While some challenges are more up to luck, there are some that are influenced a lot by skill. This is the last chance they have to study before the group day challenge, and the next round if they advance.

Today the popular choice appears to be… logic! Harmony, Billie and Sarah all choose to work on it, and wonder what challenge they'll need logic for if they make it to the next round. Dee channels her anger into studying rock climbing, yeah she's still annoyed about her loss the other day. Mariela meanwhile branches out with fitness, feeling like it's a sensible option to cover bases. Kaye decides to move about and work on her nectar making. She does want to be a master maker after all and it's been a while since she crafted.

Devin: First date with Billie then?

Deanna: It was. I'm glad people that didn't get them last round are getting a chance. I don't want to send someone home without having spent any solo time with them you know

Devin: How did you find it?

Deanna: She's such a creative soul, it was great to properly chat

Devin: Any sentiments?

Deanna: *sighs* Not today sadly

As it's the groups last day together before the group challenge, final dates, and commencement ceremony, we again head to the spa. Reece (Deanna's best friend) welcomes everyone and escorts them to the meditation area in the back garden. There he leads a guided meditation

Reece: Close your eyes and become aware of your breathing... picture a place that makes you feel calm. It might be the beach, the woods, behind a beloved screen or in front of one...

Reece: Repeat to yourself after me... whatever happens I am worthy of love and joy

The meditation wraps up and the group gets a shock. Sarah got so deep in the meditation that she... floats? Reece assures them all he's done it to, it's temporary and on the soft ground out here there's nothing to worry about.

After yoga it's time for dinner, grilled by Deanna herself. The group moves to the picnic area.

Deanna: Fruit cobbler! Get your fruit cobbler!

Reece: And you made fun of me for being domesticated

Dee: Dessert for dinner?

Kaye: Sounds good to me *tucks in*

Harmony: It looks nice, thank you Deanna

Deanna: *smiling* You're welcome

Harmony: You sure you don't feel... weird?

Sarah: If I was "floating" and I don't believe I was, I don't feel any different

Mariela: You were 100% floating. High in the sky. Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No! It's Sarah

Billie: I always love how colourful berries are

Kaye: The advice is to "eat the rainbow"

Deanna: We talking skittles or vegetables?

When the food is finished the group get to experience the main reason for the spa trip - a chance to relax and let go of stress or tension from the competition.

Everyone gets a face mask! Some get massages, some steam in the spa and other relax in the massage chairs. Autonomy is set to full and Deanna always starts in the massage chairs, since those relaxing in the spa normally start chatting pretty quickly.

For some reason I can't explain Sarah's hair changes when she's in the sauna... pretty sure it's temporary? Once Harmony and Dee are finished in the massage chairs they strike up a conversation about the latest episodes of The Adventures of Skunkbert that Dee and Kaye have watched.

It would appear that the spa has been breached today, with over eager fans taking the chance to talk to contestants and Deanna (I cropped out a sim interrupting Mariela as she was trying to relax).

Following her massage Billie is still deep in reflection on her date today and doesn't seek anyone's company. There is company upstairs though as Deanna talks to Dee and Harmony.

Dee: I'm telling you, season one episode five, hilarious

Harmony: *smiling* It's so nice to hear that

Deanna: I'd love to watch some but I don't have a lot of free time at the moment. I'm filming every day

Dee: No wonder you make them take us to the spa

While Sarah fights off sleep in the sauna, Kaye goes in and chats to Mariela.

Kaye: I think you're really good at diffusing awkward situations

Mariela: Thanks! I'm only so good at that because I specialise in making awkward situation though...

Kaye: *chuckles* We have to hang out in the city sometime

Harmony: Are you feeling better now?

Dee: For sure. I just get worked up too much but I'm mellowed now

[lemmewritethisshizdownrq]

I just had a thought so obviously I’m gonna force it on whoever will read this 😃

141 team who meets reader at a firing range, the team came there randomly, almost impulsively. Being forced to take time off from missions is making them itch so ofc they go to the next best place.

They see reader and watch them hit bullseye after bullseye, you’re an absolute unit, shooting with the precision of a sniper who’s spent years perfecting their craft.

Eventually when they can all pick their jaws up from the floor they approach you, curious as to how long you’ve been in the Military- how else could you have gotten so good? You’ve clearly been trained to perfection.

Only for reader to confidently tell them that no. You are not in the Military and you never have been, you just have really freaking cool parents.

Obviously the team aren’t buying it but hell- you’re good. So after that you have a routine, you meet up with them at the range twice a week while they are off duty. And all the while they keep poking and prodding you, you HAVE to be Military! There’s no other explanation! You *have* to be lying to them.

Finally after weeks of poking and prodding a devilish thought takes root in you….they don’t believe you? Fine.

So obviously you do the most logical thing you can think of. Bring the whole team to your house for dinner, you tell them casually that your parents have just been asking about them and have pestered you into inviting them over for dinner (it’s partly true….your parents have been asking, but not for the reasons the team think)

You all arrange for dinner to take place on the next day you all meet up at the range, you finish up your session and then all pile into your car to head to yours.

As you pull up to your house Soap and Gaz bombard you with questions about your family and how come you’re taking them to your house without even telling them anything about your parents? Do you have any siblings? Why the sudden invitation to have dinner with you and your family?

Without saying anything you leave your car gesturing for them to follow. You’ve timed this *perfectly* down to the seconds, as they trail behind you, completely unsuspecting, you unlocked the front door and step inside.

Immediately you’re greeted by the warmth of your house and the beautiful smell of your mums home made lasagna, you hear the boys wiping their shoes on the mat by the door as you call out to your parents.

Your mum hums in response from the kitchen, cheerily saying that she’ll be there in a second, she just has a few more things to do. Before she says the magically words you’ve been waiting for, that you’ve been counting down the seconds for….

“Your Dads just got back from deployment! He’s just in the study”

And just like that, the whole team stiffens, backs straightening and shoulders squaring, Price flicks his eyes to yours, understanding dawning on his face.

Before any of them can ask you a question or even think to ask you, heavy foot steps are heard from down the hallway, getting closer with a steady heavy rhythm.

A man- no a UNIT of a man trudges towards you, hair greying and glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, eyes finding yours and melting at seeing his precious child. Your dad is old- that’s pretty obvious, he’s in his 60’s by now but good GOD he is built. Years spent in the Military has made him buff and covered in scares, despite his aging he is still stronger than most men you’ve met (probably including the team Ngl he’s a beast)

You watch as he steps into the warm soft light of the living room, just feet away from you. His dress uniform still on, he must’ve only gotten home mere minutes ago. Perfect. You watch the warm light flickers against the metals pinned to his chest, your dad isn’t just any old military man- He’s a General….a detail you very conveniently forgot to mention.

You feel it as the team hold their breaths behind you, trying and failing to hide your smirk, you give your dad a playful look before saying.

“Dad, you remember the guys I’ve been telling you about? From the shooting range who were absolutely convinced that I’m military?” You step aside, no longer allowing the boys to hide behind you (they would never hide from anyone but by god were they shitting themselves)

You watch silently as your dad’s face hardens slightly as he observes the team with scrutiny before looking directly at Price…

“Captain John Price, I’ve heard a lot about you, read your file too.” Before he glances over everyone, his eyes land on Ghost.

“Lieutenant Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley, I’ve heard you’re quite elusive, the skull-” he gestures to the mask covering his face “- a nice touch, I suppose. Read your file too”

He looks at Soap and Gaz before saying “I’ve read all of your files actually, as soon as reader told me about meeting you guys.”

He watches intently as the team struggles to keep still, usually nothing would faze them, they’ve all met higher up’s, this is nothing new to them- except it is. They were completely taken off guard by this, unprepared.

You chuckle at your dad and the team’s very obvious shock before patting your dad on the arm. “Okay dad I think they get it. No need to make them shit themselves like rookies” while trying to swallow the laugh threading to push its way past your lips.

Needless to say it makes for a very interesting dinner….

🫣 Thoughts and feelings?

[georgiapeach30513]

Two Good Reasons, Part 19

Summary: Nobody messes with Andy's family.

Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader

Rating: Mature

Warnings:  language, intense topics, childhood anxiety, showering together, Ransom, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 7.7K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*Dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Andy’s thumb calmly moves over your hand. He hasn’t left your side, and he hasn’t dropped your hand. He just sits beside you, staring out into space or at your beautiful face. When he got the call from Ransom with an address, he couldn’t see straight. He couldn’t even think. His body moved on his own accord, and the only thing running through his mind is he needed to get to you and Audrey.

He closes his eyes, and a few tears drift down his cheeks. The heart monitor a constant reminder of what he could have lost. And all because some insecure little bitch of a man could not accept the reality he had made of his life. Andy would not have recovered if anything happened to the two of you. Four of you.

He’s beyond exhausted. It had been a long day in court, but everything faded into the background with one call. The world stopped moving when he saw you leaned up against Scott’s wrecked car. Your physical pain is evident in the way you were standing. Clinging onto Audrey, your entire body trembling as a steady flow of blood and fluid ran down your legs. Audrey was okay, your body was in so much agony, but the adrenaline was keeping you from feeling it. Until you knew he had her.

He didn’t know if Ryden and Everly were okay, he just felt hopeless. He’d always heard about a mother’s love, but he never felt it from his own mom. He’d never seen it until earlier today. You were almost inhuman holding onto her. Women’s bodies are amazing, and there is no greater testament to that than him watching you be unaware of what was happening because Audrey was safe.

Andy leans his head back, on the uncomfortable chair. A chair that he will deal with because you saved his daughter while your body was going through preterm labor. He’ll suffer whatever he has to because nothing can be as bad as what you endured. Or the pain he felt thinking something had happened to any of you.

Ransom stands in the doorway of your room. His eyes moving between you, Andy, and the little girl that is draped across his chest like a koala. Trying to get Audrey to go home with your mom was excruciating. She kicked, screamed, and cried to Andy to just stay with you. Upset herself so much she couldn’t even breathe. Andy picked her up, held her against his chest, and he’s not let go since.

The only thing not holding onto her is the hand in your own. Ransom had been wandering around the hospital. Looking for someone. And then he saw Scott, hooked up to an IV, with oxygen, and his hand cuffed to the bed, and all he could think about was putting air pockets in his IVs.

“How’s she doing?” Andy lifts his head up long enough to peep at Ransom before laying his head back on the chair. “Doe, I mean.”

He swallows deeply, “They were able to halt labor. She’s going to be on complete bed rest for at least two weeks. Both babies are okay,” Andy’s face contorts as he tries to hold in his tears, “I almost lost them.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I could have.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I won’t lose her again,” he sniffles. He lifts his hand off Audrey’s back to wipe away his tears, “I know what it’s like to live without her, and I won’t do it again. And now,” Andy gulps, and holds onto Audrey even tighter, “Now I’ve got so much more to lose.”

Ransom stands in the doorway a few moments before softly walking into the room. He brings a chair to Andy’s side, and holds out his hands. “I’ll hold her for a little bit.”

“I’m good,” Andy whispers. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Ransom, but he needs Audrey as much as she needs him.

“I don’t care to share this responsibility,” Andy looks over to Ransom, and shakes his head.

“I said I’m good,” leaning forward, Andy kisses the top of Audrey’s head. She’s so still if it wasn’t for the steady rise and fall of her back, Ransom would think she was just a doll.

“Tatum wasn’t there. This isn’t her fault.”

“I know. We’re still pulling them from the center. They’ll be fine at home. We’re looking into homeschooling if we need to. Even if we were okay with them going back,” his voice goes hollow as he looks down at the little girl, “I don’t think she’ll leave her mom’s side. She already was having some anxiety with her father. Ran, she was so scared. And then she saw her mom. The one person who has always been there for her, bleeding, and she thinks it’s her fault. She apologized because she thought she hurt the babies. My daughter thinks her mom’s distress was her fault.”

Andy’s voice stops. He’s run the day’s events over in his head too many times and they always make him more upset. “She’s not even trying to make excuses for Scott, but still she thinks — he wrecked on purpose. The drugs in his system or his inability to be a fucking man made him have a psychotic break. She wasn’t - wasn’t properly strapped in, and by some divine miracle, she’s just got a few bruises.”

“He’s here,” Ransom’s voice is so raw as he stares at his partner and friend. Andy’s face never changes, just his body.

“I fucking know,” Andy spits out. His grip on your hand tightens, and Ransom stares at your face. No reaction. “She’s sedated. Audrey had a melatonin gummy because she just wouldn’t rest. Neither have any idea what’s going on right now.”

“Let me take care of him,” Andy shakes his head no. “Let me do this for you.”

“No,” Andy lifts his head, and glares at Ransom. “Don’t ask me again, because I will fold under pressure. We are — you know our responsibilities.”

“Those people have never tried to kill your daughter. This beautiful angelic five year old child, he knew what he was doing. She — Andy, she could have…”

“I know!” Andy raises his voice. “And still she is in my arms, sleeping. I’m begging you to not ask me that. He will be disbarred. He has drug charges, he has child endangerment, and kidnapping charges, and so many other charges. I would rather a disgusting lawyer go to prison and suffer with his consequences than give him a quick and easy out, and then have that on our conscience. Have I made myself clear?”

Ransom nods his head as he settles back into his chair. “Two weeks, huh? Would they have been okay if…?”

“Yeah, they’d been in the NICU, but they’d have been okay. The longer they’re growing inside of her the better. Multiples are usually born early anyways. Ryden is almost the same size as Everly now,” it’s the first time Andy has smiled since being here. “The doctors said he is a big healthy boy, and she’s a dainty little thing. They’re okay.”

“You guys still going to family therapy?” Andy nods his head. “How’s Suede?”

“He wants to know when his mama and sissy are coming home. He cried a little bit earlier, and said he wanted his mama. She thinks he’s all about me, but when it counts, Doe is all he wants. Rosie though — she’s stressed. Charlene said she’s following Suede around like a shadow, or just wandering around in Audrey’s room.”

Ransom understands Andy’s decision. But his hands-on approach just wants to hurt Scott. “I’m going to take some time off,” Ransom nods. “I’ll need you to step up to oversee my duties. I want to get everything in order to adopt Audrey.”

“Yeah,” Ransom mutters as he goes to stand. “I figured as much. Your family needs you. Um, when Tatum isn’t sick, can we…?”

“I don’t blame Tatum, Ran. She wasn’t there. Had she’d been there I know my daughter wouldn’t have left with Scott. But I can’t forgive the center for this negligence. You know who informed the director?” Ransom shakes his head no. “Suede’s teacher. She said that Suede was crying and upset because his sister left with a scooter. My son is the reason that there was a fast response in getting in touch with Doe. They were all aware that Scott wasn’t allowed to pick her up. It was a trickle of perfect events for Scott. But Tatum would not have allowed him to take her. She’s still welcome in our home.”

Ransom nods again before he walks over to Audrey, kissing her head, and then to you. “Don’t push your luck,” Andy playfully tells him before Ransom walks out the door.

He’s aware that he might be a little too hot headed to have the position that he does. He knows that Andy is the practical one. The one with common sense and the one who always abides by the law. But that’s not Ransom. He reacts without thinking.

Walking down the long corridor, he takes a detour. Straight to Scott’s room. This time he’s awake, and staring at nothing. Eyes glazed over, and he reacts to Ransom’s tall shadow lingering in his doorway, “Came to gloat?” Ransom shakes his head no. “What do you want?”

“To tell you that you’re a piece of shit that should already have a body that’s starting to decompose itself.”

“Andy doesn’t deserve that life,” Ransom cocks up an eyebrow. “I don’t think my wife ever loved me. She always loved that prick. The prick that struts around, and acts like he’s so fucking untouchable.”

“Is that what your problem is? Andy?”

“Have you ever researched his life?”

“Parents don’t define us, Scottie. His father never raised him. In fact, if you want to be technical, I would say that his wife’s parents raised him,” Scott scowls up at Ransom. “Why did you do it?”

“I swerved to miss a pedestrian.”

“No, you didn’t. I’ve already personally oversaw the footage from a dash cam and Ring cameras. Try again.”

“She’s my daughter,” Ransom’s eyebrows lift. “I created her. Not Andy. He wants her the most, but if I can’t have her, no one can.”

“I’m going to ignore your dumbass comment because you know that Andy loves both those children. His love started with their mom, and went straight to them, and if you were any type of man, you would know how that works. You don’t even realize what special children you have. You don’t deserve them. So here’s what you’re going to do.”

Scott rolls his eyes before closing them, “You’re going to go to prison, and to make a situation easier, you’re going to give away your rights to Audrey. You’re going to rot with criminals that you couldn’t get out of trouble. You’re going to let that little girl have Barber’s last name. She’s going to be comfortable, and feel like she belongs with her family. And you’re going to leave them alone for the rest of their lives.”

“Why’s that? Why does he get what he wants?”

“Because you didn’t actually ever want them. You didn’t want children, she did. You didn’t want marriage, your mom did. You didn’t want to be a lawyer, your dad did,” Scott opens his eyes to scowl at Ransom, “Yeah, I’ve been doing some research on you, Scottie. If you didn’t grow up to be a complete dickhead, I’d feel sorry for you. But you got what you wanted. Old habits die hard, don’t they?” Ransom feigns boredom, and looks at his fingernails. He actually just despises looking at Scott’s face.

“And if I don’t walk away easily?” Ransom smirks as he backs out the door, “Is that a threat?”

“I didn’t say anything, Scoot.”

Andy leans back in the hard chair as he checks his watch. He shouldn’t exactly blame Scott this time. He’s not on his own time. He looks behind him at the officer, but she only shrugs. Scott has been wasting his time for too long.

The clock is annoying, ticking at an annoyingly perfect rate. It’s because Andy would rather be at home with you and the kids. You’re thankfully resting, but Audrey struggles to leave your side. Every groan you make, her eyes go wide, and you see anxiety vibrating off her. Suede is the comedic relief in the house.

He did not like that you, Audrey, and Andy were not at home for a night. Even cried in your arms when you returned. Even though he knows something is wrong, and knows Audrey should be at school, he doesn’t get the root of the issue exactly. Knowing that Scott took his sister, and it upset him to the point of not being consoled. But the feelings didn’t linger like they do with Audrey.

Andy sits up straighter as the door on the other side of the panel of glass opens. He doesn’t change his features even though when he sees his smug face he wants to rip every vein out of his body slowly. This is the man that almost changed his entire life.

Scott sits in front of him, but just stares through Andy. Doesn’t move for the receiver even when Andy picks his end up. Andy points to the phone before Scott ever places it against his ear. “What could you possibly want?” He asks, leaning back in his chair. “You got what you wanted. You got the wife, got the son, and,” Scott sighs as he wipes his hand hard down his face, “And you made sure I won’t be seeing my daughter for a long time.”

“I did that?”

“I never liked you. Didn’t realize you were the one that she replaced with me,” Andy snarls as he leans forward in his chair. “You don’t like me saying that out loud? Look at the similarities.”

“Law degree. That’s it.”

“So what exactly do you fucking want? I’m wrongly in jail.”

Reaching into his pocket, Andy pulls out a piece of paper, “Attempted kidnapping, simple kidnapping, driving while intoxicated, reckless driving, child endangerment…”

“That’s enough,” Scott says angrily. Andy slowly lifts his eyes from the paper, ready to read the remaining charges should Scott continue to accept responsibility.

“There’s several more charges if you’d like me to continue, seeing how you’re wrongly in here.”

“I keep asking you what you want, and you keep being a prick,” if Andy was a lesser man, he’d be rolling his eyes. Scott wants a reaction from him. Andy truly holds the upper hand, but everything that he says is being recorded, so choosing his words well matters.

“I want you to actually think about Audrey for once,” Scott’s eyes move downward, avoiding Andy’s gaze that never falters. A gaze that makes the hair on his neck stand up, and his insides squirm. “I want you to really think about all she’s been through in the past six months. I want you to remember how intelligent she is, and how emotionally mature she is. She knows where you are. She watched you be led down the hospital hallway in cuffs.”

Scott swallows deeply, closing his eyes. He doesn’t know if he wants to block Andy out, or torture himself with what he’s saying. “Audrey doesn’t deserve everything that’s happened in her short life. She deserves to start to heal.”

“And I suppose you’re the one that’s going to make her heal?” Andy sees for once in Scott’s pathetic life a reaction. His eyes rimmed in red, and not because of the drugs in his system. For the first time Andy could almost believe Scott has emotions. “You took everything from me.”

“You threw everything away before I ever entered the picture. You were well on your way with the divorce before she ever stepped foot in Ransom’s office. You did that. You pushed, and pushed, and you did the one thing that you knew would make her file for divorce, and that’s have an affair. And she filed. You know, I think you actually care for Audrey.”

“I love my daughter,” Scott whispers, looking back down. Shame. It’s the most pathetic excuse of love and care, but it almost is there. It’s warped, but still a twinkle of care for Audrey is there.

“I think things weren’t going your way. I think you thought she would take you back, and maybe you could get a handle on Suede. But she was done. Did you love her?” Scott doesn’t say a word, and that is confirmation enough for Andy. Two people that got married because they thought they should. Not because love was involved. A contract of people that were going to build a life together, and be the perfect spouse.

“I want you to think about Audrey during this.”

“I don’t know what you mean by that,” Scott looks up at Andy with his face ashen and blank. “What exactly do you want me to do? I do think about my daughter.”

“I want you to do right by Audrey,” Andy never calls Audrey ‘Scott’s daughter’. She has not been his daughter for quite some time.

“Meaning what?”

“If you’re convicted what does her future look like? You’re looking at some major time here. She already feels out of place at her home. She knows there’s this looming thought that she has to leave, while her siblings stay at home,” Scott sits stoic and unspeaking. Andy hopes that he understands what he’s asking of him without asking.

He hopes that Scott does the one good thing in Audrey’s life, and let Andy adopt her. Let Andy give her security that she is begging for. Andy could sink the knife in deeper and let him know that Audrey cried herself to sleep on his chest whispering for her not to see Scott again. Whether she realized it or not, that’s the day that she stopped calling him daddy.

She saw how low he had sunk, and just how cruel he could be. Purposefully wrecking his car, while you had to listen to it. It’s was a despicable kind torture. He tried to hurt you and Audrey in the worst way. It’s something Andy will never forgive Scott for. The only reason he’s standing now is because you, Audrey, Ryden, and Everly are okay. There will be healing, but there will be joy with the birth of the twins.

“You want her?” Andy’s brow perks up as he stares solidly at Scott. “My daughter? You want her?”

“I want Audrey to have some security. You never know what the next few months could bring. I want — no, Audrey is in a bit of a shock from the traumatic event of taking her from a school that she adored with her friends, putting her in a car without her booster seat, and driving at unsafe speeds until you drove off a bank, and into a tree. She got lucky. She does have a bruise from her seatbelt on her chest and her neck. Do you know why?” Scott glares at Andy, “Because she is too small to be in a car without a booster seat.”

“So what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to do the right thing. Ransom and myself will not be working on the case for obvious reasons. I’ve taken some much needed vacation days to be with my family. Just do the right thing, Scott,” Andy removes the phone from his ear, and hangs it back up before scooting back his chair, and leaving Scott to stare after him.

He couldn’t exactly tell Scott to sign over his rights, and give Andy the ability to adopt Audrey. That just wouldn’t look good. He had to choose his words carefully, and now he hopes that Scott is smarter than he looks.

“Audrey,” Andy says calmly, and you die a little more inside. Your daughter clings to your stomach, but you have nothing in you to fight her. She experienced too much, and if she doesn’t want to be separated from you then she shouldn’t have to be. “It won’t take long, princess.”

“Can’t I just be in there with mommy?” Her fingers tighten on your stomach while so many emotions flood your mind. She hadn’t been the same since the wreck, and you can’t blame her. Scott made it very clear what he wanted to accomplish. It sickens you to even think about it.

“She needs a shower,” Andy says softly.

“But…”

“And I’m going to help her,” finally a laugh tickles your throat as Audrey sits up straighter, snarling at him. “Mommy can’t wash her toes anymore.”

“So you’re just going to do what? See her naked?” Andy nods. His mouth turns up into a smile. You’re glad that he can be a rock for you during this time because your emotions go from exhaustion to anxiety with a mix of tears to so happy and warm that everyone is at home every day.

“What are you wearing? If you wear that won’t your clothes get wet?”

“Princess, I’m not going to discuss how I’m going to get mommy showered. What I am going to do is help her shower because she has to be careful,” Audrey’s face falls and she glares at Andy before laying her head on your swollen belly, “Doe, don’t.”

Andy knows that you would give yourself a sponge bath in order for her to not feel like you’re abandoning her. “Nini and Suede will be out here with you. We’re just going to be in the bathroom.”

“I don’t want mommy to be away from me,” she pouts. Her little fingers start pulsing on your body. “I want her to stay right with me.”

“Baby,” you softly speak as you start to get up. Andy’s not wrong. As much as you would love to sit with her and hold her, you fear that this is not helping matters. “Give me and daddy twenty minutes. You will be able to see if we leave. But we’re not going to go anywhere.”

“What about the alarm?” Her brows furrow, and without a second thought, Andy walks over to the front door, and turns on the alarm. “Twenty minutes is a long time. Can it be five?”

“No. I can’t wash my body that quickly, I’m afraid.”

Her grip on you loosens only a little bit, “Can I wait outside the door?”

Andy takes a deep breath as he holds out his hands for you to get up. “I want you to give me and mommy ten minutes,” you don’t know why he’s asking for ten minutes, but it's enough for her to drop her arms from around your belly, “Nini can set an alarm, and after ten minutes.”

“I can come in the bathroom?” Andy shakes his no, and Audrey’s frown deepens. “Then what?”

“You can sit outside of the bathroom,” she growls, crossing her arms over her chest, and Andy gives you the final pull to lift you up off the couch. “You’re acting like your dramatic brother.”

“Me no dwama. Save at fow o mama!” Suede says. He hadn’t even paid much attention to the conversation, just kept playing with his LEGO set. “Oo is fuww of dwama. Audi dwama queen!” Throwing his head back he laughs a bit. Nothing over the top.

“Audi, let me get mommy in the shower, and I will yell for you to start the timer, okay?”

“I don’t like it,” she gives one head nod to emphasize the point. “So can I pick out your pajamas?”

“Only if they match yours,” you softly say as you start to head towards your bedroom. Audrey just sits on the couch, crossly looking at Andy following you. You sigh as you cross the doorframe of your bedroom. You hate bed rest. If you had it your way, you’d keep doing what you’d been doing. Living your life until the twins made their debut.

Instead you wait on your mom, your husband, and your children to do small things for you. Put your shoes on so you don’t lean forward. Bring you food, so you’re not walking around too much. She gets to do the best part of the laundry, and you’re stuck with folding. Your mom or Andy even prepare food for you. Check the mail. It is exhausting how you’re not doing your things.

You barely step foot into the bathroom before Andy closes the door behind you, locking it. Going to the shower, he turns on the water, and then he’s slowly peeling off your clothes. There is nothing sexual about this. It’s so gentle and smooth the way he pulls each article of clothing off you. He holds out a hand and he guides you into the shower.

With a bit more speed, he starts stripping his own clothes off, and he follows in behind you. You collapse in his arms. The hot water, and his warm embrace causes your resolve to melt, and you sob on his shoulder. Your body is situated to the side. If it was safe for the twins, you’d want them out, so you could truly melt into Andy’s body.

“I know, baby,” he coos on your head as he peppers kisses over your body. You didn’t realize how much you had been holding in. Making sure that you are strong for Audrey when in reality you just want to be held, and told that it is okay. “I’m so sorry.”

“H-h-he took my baby. Was he trying to kill her?”

“I don’t know, honey,” clinging to his arms, your voice cracks as a guttural weep overtakes your body. Scott pretty much confirmed to Andy that’s exactly what he was trying to do. If he can’t have her, nobody can, “She’s with us now. And he won’t ever see her again.”

“You said…”

“I know what I said, but kidnapping and attempted murder,” a whine tears through your body, and Andy pulls you in even tighter. You aren’t crazy. Andy said a charge that he had no intentions of telling you about. You trusted him, and knew that he would do whatever he could within his power to make sure that Scott paid the ultimate price for that day. “We will make sure that Audrey stays with us.”

“Andy, she was so scared, and I felt hopeless. I knew what was happening to my body, but I needed my baby. She is mine. I birthed that child, and have raised her, and loved her. She is my heart outside of my body, just like Suede. And I couldn’t think about anything past getting to her.”

“And you did. You are the most amazing and bravest woman I have ever met. Your body was going through preterm labor, and you got to our daughter.”

“When will our kids stop suffering because of him?” There’s a lot of things Andy could say. He could say that Ransom offered to make sure that Scott never saw another day in his life. He could say that Scott will be spending the rest of his life in jail, even though it’s not true. He could tell you that Audrey may never remember this, and that’s a lie. Instead he lets you feel the comfort from his arm.

“She can’t heal as long as he’s coming in and out of her life,” Andy has no idea what Scott’s plans are concerning his rights with Audrey. He can only hope that a shallow pathetic excuse for a man does one decent thing in his daughter’s life, and lets her go to someone that loves her, and will take care of her. “My baby is not herself.”

You gulp as Andy pulls away from you. Your husband grabs a washcloth and puts shower gel on it. Sudding the cloth up before he starts scrubbing your arms. That same care he took undressing you, he shows now. Washing off the past few days.

That’s what you try to envision anyways. That the suds swirling down the drain are those memories. That it’s the worry and nightmares you have of your daughter crying for you. Your daughter kicking and screaming at Andy, Ransom, and your mom as she begged to stay at the hospital with you and the babies. You want to erase every bit of that day.

You wish that you had picked her up earlier. That was your plan that day. But that monster got to her first. You gaze down at Andy as he sinks to his knees. He kisses over your belly before he brings the cloth to your skin. Dipping even lower he washes your legs.

You replace every horrific memory of Scott for the perfect ones with Andy. Remember the way that he looks as he fixes Audrey’s hair. Remember the way that Suede piggybacks on him through the house. Focus on moments of him laying on his belly on the floor while the three of them color in a giant coloring book. The times of the four of you running in the front yard playing tag, and how Andy ran much slower than he actually does just to listen to the three of you giggle.

Watching from the front porch one morning as Andy hangs up a board swing from the most perfect tree branch. And all because it looked like the one at your parents’ house. When he was completed with the task, he asked you to try it out for him. When you sat in it, he was already behind you, pushing you. Reminding you of how your first kiss was on that swing with Andy sitting right beside you.

“Remember how you mentioned how red my cheeks got?” He reminded you. You remember everything from that day. The fuzzy feeling in your stomach when Andy pulled apart from you with a smile. The way he quickly looked in front of him, and his traitorous cheeks flared red. You love when his cheeks give him away. Now he’s so much more confident.

“What are you thinking about, Doe?” Andy asks from his knees. “You’re smiling,” it’s the first true smile he’s seen from you since that day. He’s been worried that Scott had finally broken you. Of all the things he’s done to you, you learned to cope. But involving a kidnapping and endangering Audrey on purpose was the final straw.

“I was thinking about our first kiss.”

“What about it?” He smirks up at you, his lips start kissing over your belly again. You start running your fingers through his hair. Normally this position has you keening wtih pleasure, but now it's making you feel more love than you have ever felt from anyone.

“Not just the one on the swing.”

“Which kiss? That was the first,” yes, the first kiss. It was merely a peck.

“Maybe the first one with tongue,” his cheeks turn the tiniest tinge of pink. “Do you remember it?”

“We were in the tree house,” he says, clearly trying to minimize kids turning into teenagers and realizing things happen to their body.

“And I asked you to kiss me with your tongue,” Andy either was seriously that naive, or you were just that fast, and ready to experiment with him.

“And I didn’t understand.”

“And I reminded you about a movie where you see his tongue go into her mouth, and you got all squirmy. And then,” oh his cheeks now are the prettiest shade of red. You love when his calm veneer starts to fall, and his old geeky self pokes through.

“I asked you to sit on my lap like they did in the movies. Pretty sure that’s the first time I have ever had a hard on,” he may be a bit bashful right now, but he isn’t shying away from the conversation. You knew you felt him.

“Did you think about me when you went home?”

“I was always thinking about you, Doe. I’ve always been crazy about you. From the first moment you sat beside me on that bus, and you were cursing my bullies. You had me wrapped around your little pinky immediately. But I suppose you’re wondering if I thought of you sexually?” You nod as he starts to stand up.

He kisses over your sensitive neck, and you lean to the side to give him all the access he could need, “You’re the only one that has ever been in my spank bank. We’re aware that we’ve been with other people. But every woman I ever had after you, I would keep my eyes closed, and pretend it was you. They never were.”

Standing up straight he pushes his forehead against your own. Hands on your hips as he pulls you as close to him as the twins allow, “They never smelled like you. Their hips never felt the same when I gripped them. They never sounded as pretty as you. I never got over you, Doe, and I never will. I will always desire you, and I will always be there to protect you and our kids.”

Talking about the other women Andy have been with should bother you, and somehow it doesn’t. “So every woman you slept with, you just pretended they were me?”

“I tried to pretend they were you. It was the most meaningless sex life. There was no fulfillment.”

“I — you weren’t the only one who did that,” your voice is barely audible. Your eyes drift close, and you open them again to gaze at the beautiful kaleidoscope of blues and greens that make up his eyes as he stares at you.

“I know,” he says with the cockiest grin. “And I will never talk about our past ever again. And if it doesn’t pertain to the case,” he leans into you, kissing right behind your ear with such a gentle peck. He moves to the shell of your ear, “We’ll never talk about Scott ever again. Promise?”

“Give me two good reasons.”

“Audrey,” he kisses your neck, “And Suede,” he gives you another kiss. This isn’t about separating them from his biological children. This is him reminding you that not talking about Scott is not important because they are.

“Andy, I feel I’ve loved you my entire life, and I just love you more everyday. Thank you for us.”

“Mommy? Daddy? It’s been twenty minutes,” you choke out a laugh, placing your forehead on Andy’s shoulder as you sniffle. “Can I come in?”

“I have to get mommy dry,” Andy chuckles. He peeks outside of the shower, and looks back at you teary eyes, “Her hand is under the door,” he awes before sighing. You needed these twenty minutes, so he would do it all over again. And even though she wants to be with you so much that she’s trying to get to you, it’s still adorable.

“Then you should wash up, and we should get out, and get jammies on,” her voice muffles. She had to have pushed her face up against the door to get that sound.

“You’re welcome,” he whispers against your body before reaching around you for the soap, “And thank you for being the best part of my life,” you bite on your lip as you watch Andy start to scrub his body. Eyeing the suds dripping down his shapely tits before creating rivers down his body. “Stop checking me out.”

“Stop being sexy.”

“You stop being sexy,” he giggles, swiping his hand down over his chest, and you roll your eyes, “What?”

“I am not sexy right now.”

“Excuse me,” finishing up with his rinsing, he turns off the water, glaring at you. But it is the silliest glare. “This,” Andy’s thick hands grab onto your stomach, “Is mine, and it is sexy. Do you know how hot it makes me when you and the kids come by the office, and you look like this. People not only know that we fuck, but they know that I was coming in your pretty little pussy until you were blooming and growing with me. Yeah, everyone knows I fuck you. That’s sexy. Muah,” he kisses you hard on the mouth before stepping out of the shower, and holding out a hand for you.

“Don’t ever say you’re not sexy again, you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” you coo. He gives you a lingering kiss as he wraps a towel around you.

“Daddy! I hear you kissing! Let me in!”

“Princess, mommy has to get dry first.”

“Well, don’t look at her boobies!” He covers his mouth to keep from laughing, “And hurry up. I am in my jammies, and I’ve got mommy’s picked out.”

“Daddy, you heard the princess. We should hurry up,” if you could hold onto this moment, you would. You love your family moments, but there is something so precious about moments just with Andy. One of these days your children will grow up, and they’ll leave you. And twenty years from now, it’ll be just you and Andy. Your foundation as a couple is the most important thing.

It’s the best advice your mom ever gave you. A loving mom and dad is the best thing for your family.

“Mama, out der?” Suede points out the front door, begging to go outside in the yard. “Pease? Audi, oo, too?” Audrey snuggles in tighter to your belly, and you groan as you shift positions.

“Are the babies okay?”

“Yes, princess. Mommy is just moving, so we can go outside with bubba.”

“I don’t want to,” you look up at Andy who walks into the living room. “Can’t we just stay in here?”

“Suede is right,” Andy says with both hands on his hips. “Mommy needs some sun, and so do you. Come on,” he walks over to your side, and grabs your hand. Assisting you to get up before he looks at a pouting Audrey. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

“She’s not even in the bed,” her voice gets a bit louder while she points at you. “The doctor said bed rest. Not couch rest, and not rest outside. Bed rest!”

“That’s not what he literally meant. Mommy still has to potty, and bathe, and…”

“Is that why you help her shower?” Your mom cocks up an eyebrow as she watches Andy. This conversation happened regularly. Audrey did not like being made to be away from you, and all because he was bathing you. “Naked?”

“Yes. It is hard for mommy to get her pretty little toes clean,” Suede fakes vomiting as he walks towards the door. “Audi, do you think I would do anything to hurt your mom or the babies?” Even though her brows are furrowed, she shakes her head no. “I want you to run around with your brother and Rosie for at least ten minutes.”

“No,” she pouts, tears already coming to her eyes as she grabs your hand.

”Mommy and I are going to sit on the porch. I will not leave her side.”

“Do I have to?” you are struggling with this just as much as she is. But you don’t want to be the reason that she isn’t healing. Just having to shower has been a struggle. There is a conversation every night about how long you’re going to be and if she can be in there with you.

“Yes, you have to wait for at least ten minutes.”

“Can it be five minutes?”

“No,” he says calmly. Never once losing his cool while you’re screaming on the inside. You’re thankful he is the strong one, “At least ten minutes.”

“You promise you won’t leave her?”

“I promise, princess. Alright, honey. Up,” he pulls you up using his own strength more than you exerting yourself. Bed rest is torture. You don’t know what you would do without both Andy and your mom at home. He sometimes goes into his study and does some work, but that’s usually during quiet time. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” there is still some soreness. You’re dilated. You have to take each day slow. You’re not allowed to feel extreme stress. There’s so many rules, all the while your three year old is becoming bored to tears, and your five your old gets anxious just when you sneeze. And she hates family therapy sessions because they bring up Scott.

‘Scott daddy’ has been completely dropped. If she acknowledges him, it’s by his name. And that’s even more than he deserves. Audrey turns back around to grab a stuffed bunny that Ransom and Tatum brought her the day before, holding onto your hand and she walks outside to Suede who is already climbing up the slide.

“Set a timer,” she tells Andy before she clicks her tongue to call Rosie, and runs to the playset. Another gift from Ransom, but it was Tatum's idea. They needed a place to play in case you decided not to enroll them back in a center.

“She okay?” Your mom asks Andy, nodding her head in your direction.

“Mom!” You shout as you sit down onto the outdoor furniture with Andy right beside you. “I am right here. You don’t have to ask Andy, ask me. And I am fine,” his hand moves over to your belly. He rubs along the giant swell of the twins, and you watch your timid little girl trying to figure out what she wants to do. Does she want to swing, go in the playhouse, climb the rock wall, or go down the slide?

“She’ll get it,” Andy assures you. You want to believe him, but she just seems so broken. He broke your daughter. You can only hope that together as a family you can put her back together. “I spoke with one of the ADAs.”

That piques your interest, and you look over at him. Too often now you feel you’re just observing the life around you instead of just living. “Scott isn’t taking the plea bargain.”

”Didn’t think he would,” you assumed he would try to fight it. He’s so full of himself he probably doesn’t think he did anything wrong.

“He’s pleading no contest,” Andy lifts your chin to look at him. You don’t think you heard him right. “He — h-h-he’s signing over his rights,” his voice fully breaks, and he leans over on your shoulder. One hand grabs his hand that’s resting on your belly while the other holds his cheek. His tears wet your shoulder, and you’re struggling to hang onto a calm reaction. Your daughter needs that from you.

“What?” You squeak out. Sniffling and gripping so tight to his hand. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Ransom just called. He’s signing over his — honey, she can officially be mine. He’s going to prison. Doe, I’m so sorry, baby. I have never been more scared in my life. It wasn’t just you, but our daughter, and our unborn babies. I won’t lose you. And now we can formally start the adoption. We can wait until after Ryden and Everly are born, and…”

“No,” you lift him up to look at you, and smile through your tears, “I want this to start as soon as possible. I want our daughter to feel like she belongs. She’ll be starting school in the fall, and I want her to officially be a Barber,” Andy looks so cute when his face goes all wonky, and he tries to remain strong.

Knowing that he loves Audrey this much tells you exactly how strong he is. He adores her so much. He was already willing to legally change her last name, even if he couldn’t adopt her right away. He was ready to fight Scott to make Audrey legally his daughter.

“Doe, I don’t need you to be stressed.”

“Stressed is knowing that we can do this, but you’re waiting. I’m fine. Audrey will be fine. Is this why you hide out in the study?”

“I don’t hide.”

“No, you’re keeping up with the DA’s office on Scott’s case because you couldn’t be a part of it for obvious reasons. But behind the doors that’s also what you’re doing, huh?” He just nods as he turns to look at Audrey more comfortably playing in the playhouse with Rosie right beside her. The ten minutes have passed, and she’s none the wiser.

“He was trying to save himself the embarrassment of those chargers,” you say. Your children will be better off forgetting about Scott. How someone that cruel could help you create the sweetest most amazing children, you’ll never know. “He didn’t want to be in a courtroom full of his peers while he answers to all those charges. Kidnapping, child endangerment, drugs, and I can’t even list them all.”

“You’re probably right,” you don’t need Andy to agree, you know you’re right.

“Audi!” You shout excitedly at her

“Are we telling her now?” You beam at Andy, nodding your head, “Princess, I’m…,” Audrey actually smiles as she and Rosie run towards the two of you. She crashes into Andy’s arms, and smiles up at him.

“Do you have a surprise for me?”

“We’re going to start the process to adopt you.”

“Really?” She squeals, and starts crawling into Andy’s lap. “Like really?”

“Yes, princess. You’re going to be my daughter, and your last name can be Barber just like everyone else’s, as long as that’s what you want,” Audrey looks at you, and then back at Andy. “You don’t have to decide right now.”

“Will you always be my daddy?”

“Yeah, even if you don’t…”

“I want you to adopt me,” her little fingers start to play with his shirt. Her gaze on her fingers more than him. “And be my only daddy.”

“Okay. Then I’m going to adopt you,” Andy wraps an arm around the back of the seat, pulling you close to him before kissing the top of Audrey’s head. “You want to go back and play?”

“Do I have to?”

“If it makes you happy, you should,” she gives him another hug, and crawls off his lap. Doing her adorable little clicking of her tongue for Rosie before going back to the playhouse. She’s going to be okay. You could see the relief of knowing that Andy will officially be her daddy chip away some of her fear.

Maybe she realizes she doesn’t have to see Scott anymore. Maybe she just knows that she is actually on a journey to heal now. And she knows that she is going to be a Barber.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @rnurse-kole @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @kmm-fluv @rogersbarber @theinheriteddutchess @buckybarnesisdaddy

@hisredheadedgoddess28 @capswife @distractingbeth @talk2trish @shoegal73

[bibibbon]

The two inventors: luoli and Yang cheng

Loli and Yang cheng two inventors, two engineering students, two top 10 heroes. While they start out from different backgrounds, they end up in very similar places in their lives.

Both yang cheng and loli are inventors, creators, and individuals very interested in engineering and technology. Yang cheng and Loli DIY their first hero costume and break that same hero costume when trying to defend little polemo and Nuonuo.

Both yang cheng and loli are heavily inspired by their heroes. For yang cheng his hero was E-soul the man who saved him and for loli her hero was queen the hero who inspired her to become a hero. Both of them have their rooms covered in those heroes merch, and both of them love Lucky Cyan and her music.

Both yang cheng and loli are encouraged to become heroes and supported by shang chao and nuonuo who see the potential in them and help them produce their official hero costume, which is what they fully make their debut in. Both also share scenes with shang chao and nuonuo working on the costumes.

Both yang cheng and loli share a scene of them running in the rain. Loli is running away from her friend because she thought that he was going to confess to her while yang cheng is running towards shang chao. Both of them face the cruelty of the world and fate in this scene.

By seeing this cruelty, both yang cheng and loli take matters in their own hands, and we get a scene of them training to become their strongest selves so they can face the challenges ahead. Both of them also have their lives dictated by their trust value and their appearance. For yang cheng, we see how he is denied job opportunities due to his nonexistent trust value and we see how his rise in trust value causes for him to believe that he has people he cannot fail that he must walk a path he might be uncertain of because he can't let people live with injustice and corruption existing while loli can't achieve what she wants to because of her appearance meaning that everytime she becomes stronger and gains trust value she quickly loses that when her appearance as a cute girl is revealed trapping her in an image that she doesn't fully want to live out, she wants to be both cute and strong not just one of those things.

Both these characters share a scene with them in a cafe/bar where there is a focus on seats. With yang cheng, he never seems to get xia qing or shang chao sitting with him, showing his failure at truly maintaining his relationships due to external and internal reasons while nuonuo and loli are shown sitting down at a bar and it's the scene where their relationship strengths as they fight back against nuonuo's stalker.

E-soul is a hero with a very masclunised image. MG's early advertisements focused on showing him with messages such as protecting your family and being manly and cool, making him appear to a male audience. However, we have concept art showing us yang cheng taking what some may deem as 'feminine' hobbies such as sewing and making teddy bears whereas loli is presented and is seen as quite feminine with her costume being covered in pink and having bunny ears however, she enjoys what some may deem as 'masculine things' such as her playing the punching game in the bar in her pv and seeing men make fun of her for it before she completely obliterates that game.

Yang cheng being covered in blue while loli is covered in pink. Both are wearing masks, but yang cheng hides and buries his true self, losing who he is while Loli wears a mask to finally achieve who she wants to be, she is able to show and express herself better through that mask being both cute and strong.

[dizzydaisyluna]

Focus Person

pairing: ghost!seungmin x fem!reader

genre: comedy, sci-fi, chaptered, sfw (minors welcome lol)

wc: 3.4k

Summary: Y/N moves into a new house to escape her old life and her family. She found the largest, cheapest house on the market, not knowing why such a large house was selling for so little. She finds out quickly why that was.

Includes: Your average Y/N, possible trauma referenced, cursing, possible intruder, spoopy shtuff.

January 1: New Year’s Day

The house is bigger than the listing photos make it seem.

The stairs are slightly off to the right from the front door, a balcony stalking the entryway. To the left is what’s meant to be a dining room, complete with a large bay window with webs in the corners. Only accessible through the dining room is the kitchen that’s just a bit smaller than the cramped apartment Y/N had back in New York.

To the right of the entryway is another room that has the lights off and old curtains pulled shut. The silhouette of a table is visible in the darkness, clearly left willingly by the realtor. And it’s no wonder why she let it sit there — it would cost her more to get all the rotted wood and possible bugs living in it taken out entirely.

Y/N sighs and drops her backpack on the bottom step of the stairs. Her backpack is all she has with her. The moving van got lost — so she was told — and isn’t going to get there for another three days. Whatever the hell she’s supposed to do in the meantime is entirely up to her and the not-yet-connected electricity in the house.

From somewhere in the house, a creak echoes. The house is old, creakiness is expected, but if there’s rats or something that’s causing the noise, that’s just another expense on Y/N’s end. As fond as she was of the rats from the subway, she really didn’t want to be living so close to their cousins.

There’s nothing she could use to kill a rat other than her bare hands, and there’s not even running water in the house yet. If she kills it, she has to live with the diseased remains on her hands until tomorrow.

Y/N shakes her head to herself. The rat can live another day.

The wooden stairs bend under her weight, threatening to give way and drop her into whatever space is below them. Since living like Harry Potter isn’t on her bucket list, Y/N rushes the rest of the way up. She won’t be able to do that for the rest of her time here, but once she has enough saved up, she’ll be able to repair the stairs herself. Or at least hire someone to do it.

The balcony platform is sturdy itself, but the railing wiggles in its spot, like it’s going to go crashing down to the first floor. Turning away from that, Y/N goes to the second balcony, overlooking the living area on the first floor. There’s no built doorway separating it from the entryway, but there is a large wooden board put up, blocking that way into the house. As of now, it’s only visible from the second floor balcony and has no point of entrance.

Living up to its name, the living area seems to be the only part of the house that still looks alive. Furniture has been left there, like the deteriorating table, but the couch is a bright red, vibrant like it’s been painted that way. The rug under it looks like it’s freshly laid out, the coffee table looking the same: fresh and new. There’s no scratches on its pristine surface, not even a vase of flowers that would match the scene perfectly. The other half of the room has a giant dinner table, beautifully polished. Y/N’s never seen a tablecloth that could cover the entire thing. That’s probably why it’s been left uncovered for so long. The only thing on its surface is the thin layer of dust that would be more concerning if it wasn’t there.

The storm outside is visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows along the far wall. If this was going to be her house for life, Y/N’s biggest focus would be covering the windows with the largest curtains she can find, but she doesn’t have the time (let alone the money) to do any of that. She’d also love to knock down the wall between the living room and kitchen so a person can enter one from the other, but she’s not going to put in that effort for a house that’s going to be vacant a year from now.

A flash of lightning brightens the room for a full second, thunder shaking the house just milliseconds later. Suddenly, Y/N is reminded as to why she came upstairs in the first place — just to look down at the living room and the windows. As eerie as it is, the unlived-in room in perfect condition and stalker-favoured windows, it really is scarily gorgeous. If only it wasn’t what she was running from in the first place.

Sighing through her nose, Y/N goes back downstairs. She’d already looked at the upstairs bedrooms and bathrooms during the original house viewing so it’s nothing she wishes to see twice before she has to. The moldy carpet and torn wallpaper are just small renovations she’ll have to make to keep the house livable. The mold removal assistance will arrive later in the afternoon, hopefully when the rain has calmed so Y/N doesn’t have to mop the floor afterwards. In the meantime, she picks up the singular box she brought inside with her initially (one of the few that aren’t in custody of the currently missing moving van). It’s full of plastic cups yet is labeled “fragile.” Her parents never were very helpful.

She takes the box through the dining room and into the kitchen. Unfortunately there must be a leak somewhere in the ceiling as there are puddles of rain water all over the floor. Y/N groans. If there’s a significant leak to make puddles this size, that’s likely what caused the mold and what will continue to cause mold until she finds it and gets it fixed. Y/N sighs again and places the box on the counter.

“Happy New Year.” Y/N smiles at the man on her doorstep. He’s just a bit taller than her but looks far older with his salt and pepper hair and slightly hunched back. “Sorry to have you here on the first day.”

He smiles back at her. “It’s no problem at all.” Y/N lets him in and watches him shiver. “Glad to see the storm has passed, though. Much harder to remove mold when I can be tracking more in, eh?”

Y/N nods and laughs a bit awkwardly. “Right. Right now, I think it’s only the master bedroom that has mold in the carpet, but I have no clue about the walls or anything.”

The man nods and begins to remove his coat. “Well, if you don’t mind, I have the tools, I can do a quick run-through of the house and tell you if there’s anything more I can help with.”

“That would actually be great.” Y/N nods again with another smile. She takes the man’s coat and puts it on the coat rack that was, like the living room, left in perfect condition.

The man digs in his bag and pulls out a device. “I”m Leehyun, Kim Leehyun. This is a moisture meter, and it’ll measure electrical resistance. When there is little resistance, there will be more moisture and most likely mold.”

Leehyun introduces both himself and his device in the same breath. Y/N tries to respond but all she can do is smile. “Okay!”

Thankfully, he just smiles. “Odd name? I know, I’m foreign. May I start down here with the meter then go up to where the mold is?”

Nodding again, Y/N leads him to the kitchen. “There was a lot of water on the floor in here earlier. I sweeped it all onto the back porch while it was still raining, but there was no more leaking. I have no clue where that water came from.”

“Could it have been dragged in by your brother? Had he been outside?”

Y/N, who had been looking on the floor for any new puddles, looks back up at Leehyun. “Brother?”

“Oh, apologies. Boyfriend?”

They’re both silent for a second before Y/N organizes a full thought. “It’s only me in the house.”

There’s more silence until Leehyun leans in just a little and lowers his voice. “I swear I saw a person in an upstairs window.”

Y/N doesn’t know how to respond. She’s glad she hadn’t gone into the bedrooms upstairs earlier, but at the same time, if she didn’t have the man here, she would’ve gone in there later at night when there’s no sun in the room and no way to tell who or what is lurking in the shadows. But at the same time the relief of earlier rushes through her, so do so many questions. If there’s really a person hiding out upstairs, what’s she going to do now? She can’t kill a person on her own, and she’s not going to ask an older man she barely knows to assist her. Should she look for a hotel for the night and call the police? Does she have to find a hotel if she calls the authorities up right away? How would a person get in if all the doors and windows are intact and locked or boarded up?

Surprisingly, Leehyun puts a hand on her shoulder and whispers that he’ll be right back before leaving the kitchen with a tool he must’ve dug out from his bag. Y/N hesitates before leaving the kitchen after him. She takes her phone from her pocket just in case she has to call the emergency line, but there’s silence other than the creaking of the stairs under Leehyun’s weight.

Nearly ten minutes pass in complete silence, broken occasionally by the sound of movement across the upstairs balcony. Eventually, Leehyun comes back down the stairs. “There’s nobody up here. It must’ve been some trick of the light.”

When Y/N finally goes upstairs to get ready for bed, she still finds herself looking around corners and shining her phone flashlight into every dark corner. There’s a patch of the carpet gone where the mold had been yet Y/N lies her blanket across the floor on the complete opposite side of the room. Unfortunately, although no mold was visible at all, Leehyun’s moisture meter went absolutely haywire when he checked in the other bedroom. Eventually, he concluded the room was okay and that the meter itself was having technical difficulties for other reasons. Y/N didn’t want to ask how he figured that out, nor did she have any intentions of checking out the room herself anyway.

At least she didn’t until a loud bang shakes the house like the thunder had hours ago. Y/N pulls her blanket under her chin, something she’s sure she hasn’t done since she was a child. Even then, the fear that creeps up her back is something she’s never felt. There’s another loud noise and Y/N gets to her feet. She opens the bedroom door just a crack, enough to see that the bedroom on the opposite end of the balcony, despite having been closed and locked when she’d gone to bed, is now cracked open. With another bang, it slips open just a bit more.

Trusting her instincts, Y/N goes back into her bedroom and locks the door. She picks up her phone to call the police. And her phone is dead. Black screen. Dark. Nothing. Nada. Rien. 何も. Her phone is dead.

She curses to herself. In order to get downstairs, she’d have to walk right past the bedroom door that’s seemingly opened on its own. She has nothing other than her phone to use as a weapon.

For the nth time, there’s a ground shaking bang. Y/N takes a deep breath and raises her phone above her head, reaching for the doorknob. Her blood rushes in her ears and she can feel her heartbeat in her fingertips. The doorknob is cold like the air around her, yet there’s petrified ice spreading through her stomach. Her fingers tighten around her phone before she yanks her door open.

Across the balcony, the other bedroom door is wide open, a dark silhouette standing in the middle of it. Y/N stares at it. She assumes it stares back. Then she notices its fingertips.

Slowly, drops of water fall from the figure’s arms. There’s scattered puddles behind it in the bedroom as well as one growing at its feet. Looking up at its head, the hair that’s sticking out to the sides seems to be dripping as well. Despite the water, the shadow continues to stand there like it can’t feel it at all.

Y/N blinks and suddenly the figure is in front of her. The door slamming behind it echoes.

It’s a boy, like Leehyun thought he saw. His hair is plastered to his face, soaking wet and long enough to reach his lips that are pulled thin in a rested frown. His eyes are dark and cloudy, angered beyond the years shown on his face. His face is smooth but thin like an under-fed child. He could pass for a young teen if it wasn’t for the fact he’s at least five inches taller than Y/N and his hands are far larger than anyone she remembers from the age he looks.

Those same hands grab at the front of her loose pajama shirt, pulling her forward until she’s almost entirely against his body and has to look directly up to see him. Then he speaks. “Why are you still here?”

Lightning illuminates the balcony from the windows in the living room. It hadn’t been storming when Y/N was in her bedroom.

Y/N shakes in his hold. She tries to speak but it feels like the air has been sucked from her lungs. It feels like she’s been standing out in the rain with the winter air pricking her skin.

Surprisingly, the hands on her shirt let up. The boy holding on to her leans back just enough for her to be able to take a breath. She takes a few more gulps of icy air but still can’t speak, like the words just get caught in her throat.

The boy’s fingers start fidgeting with her shirt’s collar. “Aren’t you scared?”

Y/N nods her head but her heart isn’t pounding in her chest like it had been when she first saw his silhouette. The boy does look less threatening up close, but the fact he can’t possibly be human should be more unnerving than it is. Maybe it’s the fact he hasn’t attacked her farther than grabbing her shirt, but still, if she is in her right mind, she should still be terrified out of it. She’s petrified, unable to move and speak, but now she can breathe fine and the only thing she hears is the rain outside. Her chest rises and falls at a reasonable rate and she can’t hear the blood pulsing in her ears anymore.

The boy releases her shirt and steps back. “You’re one of the first that hasn’t run away screaming.”

Still, Y/N just stares at him.

“...Or maybe I killed you.” The boy reaches a hand out to touch her arm, but instead of making contact like he did when he grabbed her shirt, the hand goes straight through her shirt, skin, and bones. The boy curses under his breath and pulls his hand back. ��Dang it, I was doing so good.”

Finally, Y/N finds her voice again. “What are you?”

The boy, having focused on his own hand, looks up at her when she speaks. “What else could I be? I’m a ghost.”

Staring in silence, the lightning no longer lights the hall. The rain slows to a steady drizzle and the moon peeks through the clouds. Y/N mimics the boy when he tilts his head to the side. She takes a deep breath before talking. “I’m not moving out.”

The boy seems completely at ease when he responds, nothing like Y/N’s desperate attempts to remain calm. “I won’t ask you to, so long as you won’t try to get rid of me.”

Y/N nods in quick agreement. “Just don’t scare me constantly, like tonight.”

If the boy had said something about not wanting her here, Y/N would be far less confused. He was abrupt and almost aggressive with how he grabbed her shirt to pull her in, even when he was making a ruckus in the other bedroom. Y/N would assume he was trying to scare her out like he must’ve done to other people who had paid to live here.

“Practicing, sorry.” He laughs. He laughs.

“Practicing? The fuck do you mean practicing?”

But the boy just keeps laughing, taking another step back. “Come on, a ghost needs to be able to scare, just a little.”

But with that much noise? Y/N goes to step around him before doubling down and walking right through him towards the other bedroom. She tries not to hesitate before pushing open the door to find… an empty bedroom? There’s no furniture or loose items that could’ve been used to make the loud noises. The puddles she’d seen earlier are gone as well.

She looks over her shoulder at the ghost boy. “What were you doing exactly?”

“Surely you’ve heard of mimics? It’s a learned skill.” Then he swallows, puts a hand on his stomach, leans forward a little, and lets out the most ground-shaking crashing noise just by opening his mouth.

Y/N covers her ears and squats closer to the ground, the balcony she stands on trembling as if it were struck by someone weighing a ton. “I thought mimics just, you know, mimic voices.”

The boy clears his throat and in a voice just slightly different from Y/N’s, speaks. “I can do that too.”

“Stop that, I don’t like that.” The sound of her own voice combined with the slight buzz of static in his voice sends shivers down her spine. She rubs the goosebumps on her arms. “Do you sleep? At all? Or do you just wander around when humans sleep?” The thought of him walking around the house while she’s asleep unsettled Y/N more than the thought of just him being down the hall.

The boy looks down and scratches the back of his head. “I mean, I can sleep, I just don’t need it. I don’t get tired either.”

“Okay, well.” Y/N straightens her back and keeps her head up. “How about when I sleep, you sleep too. I don’t want you walking around when I’m asleep.”

The boy shakes his head. “This was my house first, I’m going to walk around like I own it.”

Y/N straightens her back. “I am the one paying for it. You were here first, but you’re here rent free!”

“It isn’t fair that I have to stay in my room when you see how empty it is. It’s boring in there, I hate being in there!”

There’s a sudden rumble of thunder outside and Y/N raises her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, listen. It would be unfair for me to take away your free reign. You can keep moving around when I’m asleep, just, don’t be unbearably loud. You can haunt, but don’t make me want to move out.”

The boy looks towards the open windows over the living room, clearly shocked by his power to spike the storms. “Okay. I won’t be that unbearable.” There’s a long, somewhat awkward silence. “My name is Seungmin, by the way. Kim Seungmin.”

“You’re Korean.” She meant it as a question but it comes out like a statement.

“Born there, moved here, died here. What’s your name?”

“Y/N. Y/N L/N. Born and raised in America, whether I like it or not.” Y/N smiles. “So, can I go to bed now?”

Seungmin shrugs. “Don’t ask me. You pay the rent.”

“Yeah, okay.” Y/N rolls her eyes. She just wanted to be polite. “At some point I can get you furniture for your room.”

“That would… actually be great.”

Nodding, Y/N walks past him and towards her bedroom door. “Goodnight, Seungmin. Please, no more noise.”

“Got you. Goodnight Y/N.”

👻

A/N: Thanks for reading! As chapter come out, I’ll add previous/next chapter links and around chapter five, i’ll make a post of links to all chapters!

[ofbreathandflame-archive]

my face when I find out that in the real world, Illyrians were an ancient group of people who inhabited the western Balkan Peninsula but SJM for some reason took the name and decided to be incredibly racist instead: 😮

Hi anon!

And the thing about the Illyrians is that the writing around them is so egregiously racist that SJM is fucked no matter what direction she chooses to go with them.

I've always held that the Illyrians purposely operate in the realm of ambiguity. I've always held its something akin to Aphra Behn's Oroonoko - or more so, a reverse of it. The Illyrians are eternal second-class citizens in this story. Violence against them is fine, no more than a footnote in the larger story. In five books we have one named Illyrian female (despite the fact that huge chunks of these stories take place...in Illyria). The women raise these mindless, warrior sons who grow up to hate them. They then have to send their kids off to fight for a court that they don't even know exists. A utopia that...they can never take part of. Some places in Illyria don't even have enough spices or gear to survive the winter. The situation is so bad for women, that even when Emerie's immediate abusive family dies, she can't even run her shop in peace because the culture around women autonomy is that misogynistic. There is no expressed, postive culture associated with them (outside of utility), other than the 'token' good (3) Illyrians out of thousands, even millions. And mind you - taking away Rhys's time UTM, he has been HL for at least 300 years. You're telling me - in two months of knowing Feyre she becomes High Lady. That is a radical political decision that Rhys made independent of everyone. He gives her power over the Illyrians, and CON. You're telling me he couldn't have just...created more women-led positions? Actually live in Illyria to watch them? That there is no female battalion in THREE HUNDRED YEARS. In MAF, they're still at incredibly rudimentary stages: there's like four women who still have to do all the chores, but can train for an hour a day doing shit that's useless, and then go back to their abusive lives.

But then on the other hand, they're weapon crafters, excellent warriors, sexy, huge, with big wings. They're the edge to Rhysand's sword. It's...just a population of fetishized people that exist to do one thing. They are the fantasy: ambiguous enough where they can be operate the sexy savage trope, but also white enough that the general audiences find them attractive.

Like - if SJM decided to actually make them POC, then the implications behind our analysis would be more than a implication. If she makes them white, she's naturally dabbling a horrendous appropriation. If she leaves them ambiguous, then her fans will begin to rationalize within their own circles and push and pull that distinction wherever they see fit. Could you imagine if SJM was writing a story with an explicit group of POC purposely being segregrated because they're 'too wild for civility.' A group of people so interpolated into a system, that they begin to culture behind that system to rationalize the abuse (i.e. wing mutilation, camp lords, hyperviolence). This is a people that has been told for thousands of years that they're only purpose is to breed warriors, and then send them to die either in the Rite, or as soldiers on the frontline of war, or to protect/uphold a uptopian society that they don't know exist. And mind you: Amarantha only attacked the CoN and Illyrians because she didn't know Velaris existed. Rhys locked the entire governing body of the Night Court in a utopian land for fifty years, while leaving the two most vulnerable places to rot. He thennnnnn came back and tortured, killed, and murdered the Illyrians for...doing the same thing he did for fifty years. All of this on top of the fact that...this is a real culture that she is still appropriating. Like - the Illyrian / CoN really shows you where SJM's head is at. Like, wdym Rhys is going to segregate the CoN from Velaris and tell shop owners not to sell to them....y'all that don't sound eerily similar to any MAJOR event(s) in recent human history? A lot of this sounds very eerie - and more so because you can tell that the rationalizations given by the book is so deadass serious, like not even being a little ironic about how terrible this is.

[nooneelsecomesclose17]

⁴⁷⁾ sunday dinners

Aaron didn't think he'd ever been so nervous outside of a courtroom, but stood here on the front step of Sarah Sugden's cottage, his hands were shaking.

"It's going to be fine. It's my mum, she'll love you." Was all he kept saying.

"But what if she doesn't?" Robert cared a lot about her opinion. Even when he was at his worst during their affair, Aaron knew all of it weighed on him, how she'd feel. Not that it stopped him mind.

"Then we don't come over for sunday lunch anymore."

"That easy is it?" He knew some people stayed together regardless of family opinons. After all if his lot had their way he wouldn't be within 100 miles of Robert, but Sarah was different.

"I didn't let the fact I was married stop me, and you think my mum not liking you will?"

"So you do think there's a chance she won't?"

"No, I don't. If anything she'll love you more than me."

"Oh I've got enough love to go round the pair of you. Now do you want to keep bickering out here or come in and eat?" Aaron's head whipped round to face her. He'd seen her before, in Robert's photos, but they'd never met, not even when Robert was shot. She'd only visited the hospital, not the village, but now she was moving back to the village so Robert had insisted they meet.

Robert's hugging her before he can answer and he awkwardly grips the box of chocolates he'd insisted they stop for just a little too hard, feeling the cardboard bend under his fingers.

"So, you're Aaron then?" He jumps a little at her voice. He's never done this, the meet the parents thing. He wasn't sure Diane counted as he'd known her before he'd known Robert, and with Jackson, well Hazel just burst into their lives, he didn't meet her as such, she was just there. "Don't look so worried, I don't bite."

"Her bark's pretty bad though if she's riled." Robert comments from where he's inspecting the various saucepans on the cooker.

"You hush, and get away from that stove. Now Aaron, take your coat off love and come and sit down. Robert can put the kettle on and me and you can get to know each other."

"I can help..."

"He's perfectly capable." Sarah leads him into the front room of the cottage and he instantly feels at home. It's cosy and the fire is roaring. His eyes are drawn to the dozens of photographs dotted around.

"Is that Robert?" He points to one of a little boy on the beach, proudly standing beside a sandcastle that's almost as big as he is.

"Oh yes. I didn't know him then, his Dad must've taken it when they were in Italy but I've always liked it. So, tell me about yourself love. I can't get anything out of that one except how wonderful you are. No details at all."

"There's not a lot to tell, live at the woolpack with my mum and run the scrapyard with Adam. He's my best mate."

"Oh I know Adam. I was going to invite him and Victoria but I thought it'd be nice just the three of us." She leans forward in her chair. "While he's in the other room, I just wanted to say...what you did love, about your father, well, that was incredibly brave. I wanted to come along and support you with Robert, but I think it might've been a bit awkward for all of us."

He nods because his throat isn't letting the words come. She's right, he can't imagine how awkward it would've been, meeting her in the middle of all that, but it was nice that she'd wanted to support him.

"I wouldn't have got through it without Robert."

"I'm sure you would've love because you're strong, but nice not to have to eh?" She looks to the kitchen. "Robert, are you making that tea or having a conversation with it?"

"I've told you before, not everyone just dips the teabag in a couple of times like you. Tea takes time." He comes in with the tray and plonks himself next to Aaron on the sofa after putting the tray down.

"Nobody has ever complained about my tea."

"Don't believe her. Gran used to find any excuse to stop her making it."

"And that's enough of your cheek. What on earth will Aaron think?" He laughs, because compare to his lot, this is nothing. "So, Robert said your sister was staying with you?"

"Yeah. Her mum wanted to move to Dublin after everything but Liv was less keen." He answers, before sipping his tea even though it's far too hot. He's started to relax a bit more and he leans into Robert.

"Understatement."

"And how does she get on with this one?"

"Think you'd probably call it a mutual understanding...they both like each other but neither one would admit it if you asked them."

"You should've brought her with you." Robert groans because they'd had this discussion at least six times, him knowing his mum would likely smother Liv with love and right now Liv was still far too prickly to accept any of it so they'd left her at Gabby's.

"Next time."

They don't talk about much until lunch is ready, just general village gossip and are too busy eating for Aaron to trip himself up like he'd been afraid of.

"That was amazing." He tells Sarah as he puts his knife and fork together on the plate. He feels stuffed like you do at Christmas and he knows there's a dessert in the fridge as Robert's eyes had lit up when he'd seen it.

"Nearly as good as his mum."

"One of these days Robert Sugden..." She threatens him with a smile.

"Yeah yeah. We'll have to do this and you can try his...at the pub maybe?" He turns to Aaron.

"Yeah, although it'll mean Charity and Noah barging in all the time."

"The more the merrier love. I miss having a full house, be nice that. Now, before dessert how about I get those photos out I told you about?"

"Mum!"

The rest of the afternoon is a lot more relaxed and he enjoys seeing the photos. He might've got his phone out a few times to photograph a few, much to Robert's annoyance.

"Well?" Robert asks when they're in the car on the way home.

"I love your Mum."

"Knew you would. You're deleting those photos though."

"Why? You look cute."

"Yeah, because that the look I'm going for now I'm thirty." He leans over and kisses him as he starts the engine. "I'm glad you liked her. Would've been a bit awkward her moving to the village if not."

"You manage with my lot."

"I'd bet against your lot with my mum any day."

[sewerratzz]

assorted jrwi hcs yippee :p

Riptide :D

Chip plays the fiddle. he's self taught, found an old thrown away fiddle back on skullslice and privately fixed it and learned how to play. it's one of the few things he brought with him when he left

Jay is sorta tanned but the sun mostly just makes her freckles more visible. the tops of her shoulders, arms and nose are always sunburned

Chip has two pins and small feathers on his hat, one fish pin for Gil and a small bird pin for Jay along with a teal and orange feather for both of them. Jay's added two small feathers to her hair tie attached with beads, a red one and turquoise one that dangle opposite to the bluejay feathers. Gillion made a tailet with sea stones attached & hanging from it, one a primarily brown ocean jasper with secondary red spots and stripes, the other a lime green peridot with yellow undertones [i have a whole separate post for the tailets]

Ava's hair was very straight compared to Jay's pretty wild curls. Ava took after the Ferins, all their hair being pin straight, while Jay took after their mother's side of the family, all their hair ranging from curly to wavy. Ava had slight waves but straightened any of them out so it seemed pin straight as well. Jay straightened her hair since she was young to be more like Ava, but she stopped when she left with Chip, mostly because she had to. her hair's gotten much frizzier because of the salty air and humidity

just Chip bringing this straight-haired girl onto his crew and he wakes up like two mornings later to Jay with the frizziest hair you can imagine almost covering her face. like a living fuzzball. he laughs at her for it but he likes it way better like this. he laughs even harder when she gets so annoyed with him that her face goes red

Jay embracing and enjoying her hair is so special and important to me. having that bluejay feather hair tie from her mom that she uses to put it up and away on hot days/nights, for flying practice, when she's artificing. Ollie braiding some of it so they can match. she doesn't have any products for it on the ship and just lets it be wild, in stark contrast to how it's been for the rest of her life. when she comes back to featherbrook with Gil & Chip, her mom sees her hair and is just so happy that Jay's letting herself be herself. May gives her some things to take care of it before they go and Jay rations that shit on the ship so she has it for as long as possible

Jay and Ollie matching braids. braid buddies !! Jay fixes her braid everyday in the black sea. she fidgets with it and often keeps it draped over her shoulder to display it. Ollie fidgets with his too, sometimes chews on it while he draws. he brags to the other kids in zero about matching with one of the pirates that saved the town[along with all his adventures with them ofc]

Gillion's gills are on his sides, not his neck. His shirt/wetsuit or whatever [what does he wear lmao] has openings over them so he can breathe easier. when he first got to the oversea he would sometimes forget to close them and breathe through his mouth/nose so he would choke a bit. he's gotten better at the switch, it's much more subconscious now

Gil never really had a favourite colour before. he liked blue and green, but those were just the most common colours he saw in the undersea. he liked purple, but it wasn't his favourite. not part of his training to think about something so insignificant. Gillion with no favourite colour and a lost sense of purpose floating to the surface. Gillion being approached and pulled out of the water by Chip. Gillion gaining his favourite colour, the same as the eyes that gave him purpose again. a pirate now. a hero again.

when Chip smokes weed it's very much a coin flip of whether it's a good or bad trip, so he only smokes every once in a while. he tends to forget about his bad trips by the time another opportunity to smoke comes up again so he's never apprehensive about it, usually the most enthusiastic of the crew. his bad trips are bad, it really triggers his ptsd and it almost always starts with him dissociating. sometimes it stops there, but often escalates to flashbacks and breakdowns

albatrio sharing clothes <3 Jay in Chip's coat, a bit smaller on her bc of their height & size difference. Chip on hot days wearing one of Jay's tank tops, Gil and Chip swapping pants. Gil loses his hair tie and uses Chip's sash to tie his hair up for the day

Jay's wings are big and blue and eagle shaped. she gets the bird tail feathers when they come out as well

Chip's tattoos heat up according to his mood. sometimes when he and Gillion touch it creates steam from the point of contact. albatrio cuddle piles sometimes end with all three of them covered in condensation. Jay's hair is always fucked up afterwards but she doesn't get too annoyed by it [usually] cuz she knows it's just bc chip loves them

Prime Defenders ^^

William got a nose bridge piercing. black ball on one side, tiny wisp design on the other

Vyncent has a tail. his ears move like cat ears, eg. pressing close to his head when he yawns, twitching towards random noises he hears, etc.

Dakota is short, probably like 5'7. Vynce is 5'11. William & Ashe are both 6ft tall. Dakota still likes to pick all of them up

PD boys have karaoke nights. Dakota almost always raps and usually songs from Harlem's soundcloud. William sings midwest emo like Car Seat Headrest, Modern Baseball, Front Bottoms and he for sure does the voice. he doesn't realize but everyone else does. Ashe of course sings emo, MCR, FOB, Simple Plan, etc. Vynce does a mix of genres but leans towards country more often than not. Dakota does adlibs the whole time for everyone, and they all do adlibs for him while he raps

William gets so excited when someone randomly mentions something he enjoys. he gets almost flustered and feels like he's gonna explode for a second until he says something. he always sounds casual [as awkward as he usually does], but he always gets a bit embarrassed afterwards because he feels like he said it weird [he's so me fr]

this isn't a new take but genderqueer he/they/she Ashe Winters. real to me

autistic Dakota Cole [HE'S SO ME FR]

Vyncent is a pretty good artist. didn't practice much in Fauna, he was usually hunting or helping his parents out, but he got to draw a lot more after coming to Prime. all of his schoolbooks are filled with doodles & art. in highschool it was only doodles but in college they're mostly kept in the margins now

Ashe has Mark's old jacket after leaving for college. it's definitely a comfort item, Mark gave it to them as one of his many "leaving the nest" gifts. she tops every outfit with it. he only doesn't wear it when it starts getting too warm out

Vyncent runs cold, obviously so does Will. Ashe runs warm. Dakota also runs warm but mostly because he is always moving

Vynce is aroace to me. love that little guy i hope he's out there finding himself

Ms G makes star shaped foods just for fun. waffles, pancakes, cookies, anything she can make star shaped she will at least once. she likes to bring them to W.A.T.C.H. and share them. everyone loves it. [she used to do the same for her students and it was like her class's version of a pizza party]

Ms G still has her old roller derby fit. she's definitely broken it out for Halloween or something during her teaching days

Ms G's first name is Georgia

blood in the bayou ><

Rand and his father started butting heads when he was like 12, but after Rachel went missing they argued way more and actively disliked each other. his mom fussed and worried over him way more after Rachel went missing because he was her only child left

Rand didn't cry at Rachel's funeral. he smoked some weed beforehand to try and numb himself but it didn't really work. he sat in the church angrily the whole time, trying to keep the scowl off his face as he stared at the picture of Rachel his mom had chosen. he wrinkled his one pant leg by clutching it in his fist the whole time. the only reason he didn't storm out was because his mom was next to him, clutching his arm and basically sobbing leaning against his side. he knows why he acted and felt that way, but he still feels like shit about it. it's hard not to

Rand is a car guy that knows nothing about cars. vaguely knows the model of his own, can remember the really popular ones he's seen while skimming magazines, but knows nothing else. when his car doesn't start he gets out, opens the hood, and smacks the engine with a wrench he keeps in the glove box. it's worked for him so far, if it ain't broke don't fix it

Rand is an angry crier

Rand's necklace is a craft Rachel made for him. he wore it for a while after she gave it to him, then it sat on his dresser. he started wearing it again after she went missing and never takes it off now

Kian is a cat guy. dude loves cats so much. he doesn't have one but they're drawn to him and he has treats in his car for any strays

Kian's been dyeing/bleaching his hair since he was a teen. did it once when he was bored and just never stopped. never does his roots to give it a bit of a grown out look

Kian wears heels for sure. he's pretty average height but his heels make him the same height as Rolan

Rolan didn’t tell Rand he was leaving Galloway until the very last minute which caused the fight that ended up being their goodbye

[echantedtoon]

Yn who's stuck in an arranged marriage but then then as the priest cookie asks 'does anyone object Burning Spice or Dark Cacao cookie appears:0

(Warnings for implied death for Burning Spice's part.)

A wedding was supposed to be the most joyous day where love conquers all. Two hearts melt into one another before confessing undying love and joining for eternity for holy matrimony. Or for loved ones to join in to celebrate the couple's special day. Cheering and exchanging smiles. Then the couple would dance the night away. Cutting cake. Drink champagne. Settle down and plan their lives together. 

You've always dreamt of sharing that magical moment with your beloved. Sharing the rest of your lives together. Unfortunately that was never meant to be because your family had arranged a marriage for you from birth, and you were fated to be his whether you liked it or not. One moment you were rubbing your lover's back as he had his head in your lap, and the next you were kidnapped and carted off back home. Kicking and screaming the entire time you were forced into a wedding dress and dragged down the aisle towards an alter. Arms held painfully by family members as you fought to get free. It was a if you were a ghost screaming your head off as everyone ignored you. However the tides would change as the priest cookie uttered that infamous sentence-

"If anyone has any objections as to why these two cookies shouldn't be married, speak now or forever hold your piece-"

THE CHAPEL DOORS BUSTED OPEN

The screams of the guests rang out. One door completely falling to the floor off it's hinges as a mountain of a man came walking in slowly. It aura and stature was enough to quiet most of the weaker cookies surrounding him, but he wasn't paying attention. He was fully staring straight ahead, sights set on your crying face now washed with relief.

"DARLING!!"

DARK CACAO COOKIE:

-Everyone is shocked that a KING of another kingdom is currently walking his way down the aisle of seats and towards the terrified looking groom. What had dragged him all the way here? Why was he here?! Everyone's stares turn into whispers and quiet confusion the closer he gets to the alter until stopping just short of climbing the steps to you.

-"Get your hands off her. Now." His voice is calm, yet demanding leaving no room for argument. "Me?! Who do you think YOU are?!" The groom demands of the King before him. "How dare you interrupt the ceremony when this kingdom doesn't even concern you?! GET OUT!!" Dark purple eyes narrow. "I'm offering you to once more to do this peacefully. Let her go." "Or what?! She was promised to me! She's MINE!!" In one second the cold bite of metal was right in front of the stupid groom who's eyes had suddenly gone wide. "She is owned by no one, but if you insist then we can be men about it and duel for her hand. The choice is yours."

-In the shocked silence, you're finally able to free yourself and run up to him hugging his middle. Instantly his first instincts are to hold you close to him and give a look of concern. "Are you alright?" His hand caressed your cheeks, horrified by the smeared makeup slapped quickly on you and tears making it worse. "They didn't hurt you did they?" You shook your head. "Good. They're lucky you aren't." His steel gaze gave another cold glare at everyone whom sent shivers down their spines, and a moment later you were picked up by one arm of his holding you to his chest. "We're going home. If ANYONE thinks about pulling anything against me, then I'll have no choice but to use violence."

BURNING SPICE COOKIE:

-As soon as someone even SEES him, there's C H A O S. Woman scream and everyone scrambles for the nearest exit as soon as BURNING SPICE. Starts making his way in slowly but silently. There's a thin line on his face where a frown or sinister smile would usually be. Eyes dead and hollow, something you've never seen before. Axe dragging along the floor next to him making an eerie scraping sound.

-Someone is sent flying by his arm simply shoving them away. The unfortunate guest disappears in the crowd with a sickening CRACK sound. A pew is lifted over one shoulder the next and is sent FLYING towards the alter. The priest cookie screams out and BARELY ducks in time for the long pew to go halfway in and get embedded in the wall. Your eyes shut as wall debris crashes down on all of you. Then you're dropped as your family fleas in terror of your lover as he starts up the steps. You're not even flinching when you're pulled up by the back of your dress to stand and are met face to face with your lover

-"Tch. Went through the trouble of taking you from me and they couldn't even treat you properly." His tone is harmful but his hands take care when he touches you, freezing when you flinch and sees the bruises on your arms from where they held you down. RAGE AND WRATH MIX TOGETHER IN HIS EYES AS HE SEES YOU HURT. The cold metal of his axe stinging as his knuckles grips it. A deep inhale filling his lungs. "Well...If I'm crashing a wedding, then I should at least be courteous enough to bring a wedding gift for my pretty bride." In mock thought he tapped his chin with a hum. "But what to give the girl who has everything? Ah yes! I know the most appropriate gift for my wife!" His axe shines as he grips it and slowly turns his head towards the terrified groom. "I shall kill all her enemies and then present their heads to her before they completely crumble to dust. Starting. with. YOU!!" There's one final scream as an axe is raised and quickly comes down.

[viperzerofsx]

Madoka Magica is a modern Buddhist folktale

With the new film coming soon I was going to talk about one of the most neglected aspects of Madoka Magica in the English fandom. It’s very explicit use of Buddhism which is often discussed by Japanese critics.

The show is Buddhist in two primary ways

The wish system is based on the first two Noble truths

Madoka is the story of a young girl choosing to become a Bodhisattva, specifically Madoka’s story is a retelling of the popular Buddhist figure Kannon in a modern setting.

Both of these are done in a way that would be very obvious to a Japanese audience. While the show has a reputation in the west as dark or subversive I’m going to argue that it’s not out of line with common Buddhist themes.

(As a note, There is controversy that “suffering” is too strong a translation but since the show uses despair I’ll keep it.)

First the wish system and Despair. Though many see the show as dark and nihilistic, in Buddhism suffering is considered an inevitable and unavoidable part of life. Suffering is inherent in Buddhism because we desire and cling to things but nothing is permanent, everything is in a state of mutual dependence and change flowing forever.

We might achieve happiness, success, our goals but these are temporary. We age, we lose the people we love, the world we are born into changes around us, our relationships change. Even in minor ways the happiness of achieving what we want is not permanent. Consider any major goals you have accomplished in your lives, was that happiness itself totally permanent and unchanging and enough to carry you through for the rest of your life? Notably in Goethe's Faust, Mephistopheles offer’s Faust only one perfect moment for his soul.

So while the discourse has always been on if the wishes were selfish or not the real issue is that no wish other than those that threaten the wish system could ever work.

Sayaka wishes to help her childhood friend and crush. She thinks she’ll never regret the wish until she discovers the true cost. Hitomi and Kyosuke start a relationship none the wiser to what Sayaka has done and she can do nothing as her lifelong friends move on from her. She tries to throw herself into the magical girl role only to find out the people she protects are sometimes unsavory. Sayaka was attached to a naive view of the world that changed while she bore the cost.

Kyoko wished people would attend her fathers ministry to help her family. For a time this worked but her father discovered magic was involved and she lost everything in a night.

Mami wished to live after a car accident, she was left alive but lonely and without a family. This loneliness was so deep and crushing when she was given the chance to no longer bear it she became careless, got herself killed and dragged her friends into her dark world.

In the other timelines Madoka wished to save someone else. In every single one she was either killed or fell into despair when the threat was eliminated but the costs were made clear.

All the wishes provided real happiness to the wisher but when that wore off and the cost remained the girls either fell into despair or were left alone to fend for themselves. Only Homera’s wish and Madoka’s final wish, wishes that threatened the system, avoided this.

When despair becomes too great a magical girl dies and is reborn as a witch. Witches have motifs based on the magical girl's thoughts, a death echoing some Buddhist beliefs . While these witches share continuity with their magical girls they cannot be reached even by people they knew in life, in line with Buddhist rebirth. Becoming a witch is like being reborn into a hell realm of which there is no going back.

Now it’s necessary to compare Madoka to Kannon.

Kannon is a Bodhisattva and extremely popular in Japan. Bodhisattva is someone who can achieve enlightenment but vows to forgo it to help all sapient beings achieve it.

Her Chinese counterpart Guanyin is described as a woman in white robes like ultimate Madoka.

To become a Bodhisattva one must have good karma from many lifetimes. Homura provides this as Madoka’s kindness inspires Homura to loop time over and over again. Kyubey explicitly confirms that Madoka is the center of Karma of many timelines.

Kannon saw the suffering of different beings and released her good Karma to either purify a hell realm or create a pure land for those suffering to go and achieve enlightenment. Madoka uses her karma to create a mysterious realm for magical girls she rescues.

Kannon is said to rescue those who are in their last moments who cry out for her help and save them from a negative rebirth. Madoka rescues magical girls in their last moments before they can become a witch.

Both Kannon and Madoka cleanse the Karma of those they help.

Kannon works tirelessly for others' salvation, Madoka assures magical girls that she is always fighting for them.

Madoka has a similar origin to Kannon and other Buddhist figures in general terms. She is relatively sheltered and privileged, unaware of the full extent of the suffering of the world. She still however suffers and has little sense of worth but great compassion for others. She wants to help but is ineffective until enlightenment.

Madoka after rescuing all magical girls past present and future achieves Nirvana. She describes Ego death with her consciousness spreading through the cosmos.

edit: corrected error