#THE COMFORT THEY WOULD GET FROM EACH OTHER

[pucksandpower]

Keeping Up With the Leclercs

mafia!Charles Leclerc x bratva! Reader

Summary: ever wondered what it would be like if Morticia and Gomez Addams were in the mafia? There’s nothing quite like a dangerous couple who are (literally) crazy for each other

Warnings: arranged marriage and kidnapping

You stand in your father’s study, arms crossed defiantly as he delivers the news that will change your life forever. The plush Persian rug beneath your feet feels like quicksand, threatening to swallow you whole.

“You can’t be serious,” you spit out, glaring at the man who raised you. “An arranged marriage? What century do you think we’re living in?”

Your father, Nikolai, the most feared man in the Bratva, doesn’t flinch. He merely raises an eyebrow, his steely gaze unwavering. “It’s not up for discussion, Y/N. This alliance with the Monegasque Mafia will secure our position for generations to come.”

You scoff, pacing the room like a caged tigress. “And I’m just supposed to be the sacrificial lamb? How convenient.”

“Watch your tone,” Nikolai warns, his voice low and dangerous. “This isn’t a request. It’s an order.”

The door to the study swings open, and in walks the very man you’re meant to marry. Charles Leclerc, heir to the Monegasque Mafia, saunters in with an air of arrogance that makes your blood boil.

“Ah, there’s my blushing bride,” Charles drawls, a smirk playing on his lips. “I hope I’m not interrupting a touching father-daughter moment.”

You spin to face him, eyes blazing. “You. This is your fault, isn’t it? What, couldn’t find a woman willing to marry you voluntarily?”

Charles chuckles, seemingly amused by your outburst. “Feisty. I like that in a woman.”

“I’m not your woman,” you snarl, taking a step towards him. “And I never will be.”

Your father clears his throat, reminding you of his presence. “Y/N, Charles, please sit down. We have much to discuss.”

Reluctantly, you take a seat on the leather sofa, as far from Charles as possible. He, on the other hand, sprawls out comfortably, looking for all the world like he owns the place.

“Now,” Nikolai begins, “the wedding will take place in three months. Until then, I expect you both to get to know each other and present a united front to our associates.”

You can’t help but laugh bitterly. “Three months? Why the rush? Afraid I’ll come to my senses and run away?”

Charles leans forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Don’t worry, mon chérie. I’ll make sure you’re thoroughly ... distracted.”

“You’re disgusting,” you mutter, refusing to meet his gaze.

Your father sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Enough. You two will learn to get along, for the sake of both our families.”

“And if we don’t?” You challenge, raising your chin defiantly.

Nikolai’s expression darkens. “Then you’ll face the consequences. Both of you.”

The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air. You know better than anyone what your father is capable of when crossed.

Charles, seemingly unfazed, stands up and stretches. “Well, this has been delightful, but I think Y/N and I could use some ... alone time to get acquainted.”

You jump to your feet, ready to protest, but your father beats you to it. “An excellent idea. Y/N, why don’t you show Charles the gardens?”

It’s not a suggestion, and you know it. Gritting your teeth, you storm out of the study, not bothering to check if Charles is following.

The moment you’re in the hallway, Charles catches up, matching your brisk pace. “So, tell me about yourself, future Mrs. Leclerc. What makes you tick?”

You whirl around, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Listen here, you smug bastard. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I want no part of it. This marriage? It’s never going to happen.”

Charles catches your wrist, his grip firm but not painful. “Oh, it’s happening alright. But who says we can’t have a little fun along the way?”

You yank your hand away, your skin tingling where he touched you. “Fun? You think this is fun?”

“It could be,” he shrugs, his eyes roaming over you appreciatively. “If you’d let that stick out of your ass for five minutes.”

“Charming,” you deadpan. “Is this how you usually woo women? Insults and forced marriages?”

Charles laughs, the sound rich and oddly melodic. “Only the special ones. Come on, Y/N. Give me a chance. I might surprise you.”

You pause, studying him for a moment. Despite your anger, you can’t deny there’s something intriguing about Charles. A dangerous allure that both excites and terrifies you.

“Fine,” you concede grudgingly. “One chance. But if you so much as look at me wrong, I’ll make you regret it.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Charles grins, offering you his arm. “Shall we explore these famous gardens of yours?”

Ignoring his outstretched arm, you lead the way outside. The sun is setting, casting a golden glow over the meticulously manicured grounds.

“It’s beautiful,” Charles murmurs, genuine appreciation in his voice.

You nod, allowing yourself to relax slightly. “It’s my favorite place on the estate. I used to hide here as a child when things got ... intense inside.”

Charles turns to you, his expression softening. “It can’t have been easy, growing up in this world.”

“Like you’d know anything about it,” you scoff, but there’s less venom in your words now.

“You’d be surprised,” he says quietly. “The gilded cage of Monaco isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite yourself. “Oh? Do tell.”

Charles shakes his head, a rueful smile on his lips. “Another time, perhaps. For now, I’d rather hear about you. What do you do when you’re not busy being the Bratva princess?”

“I’m not a princess,” you retort automatically. “And I ... I paint, actually.”

“Really?” Charles seems genuinely interested. “What kind of art?”

You hesitate, unused to sharing this part of yourself. “Mostly abstracts. Emotions translated into color and form.”

“I’d love to see them sometime,” Charles says softly. “If you’d let me.”

You study him, trying to detect any hint of mockery. Finding none, you nod slowly. “Maybe. If you behave yourself.”

Charles clutches his chest dramatically. “Me? Misbehave? I’m wounded by the very suggestion.”

Despite yourself, you feel the corners of your mouth twitching upwards. “Somehow, I doubt that.”

As you continue walking, a comfortable silence falls between you. The tension from earlier hasn’t disappeared entirely, but it’s shifted into something ... different. Something charged with possibility.

“You know,” Charles says suddenly, breaking the quiet, “this arranged marriage thing doesn’t have to be a death sentence.”

You snort, rolling your eyes. “Says the man who’s not being forced to give up his freedom.”

“Who says you have to give up anything?” Charles counters. “We could make our own rules, create our own version of this marriage.”

You stop walking, turning to face him fully. “What are you suggesting?”

Charles steps closer, his voice low and intense. “A partnership. Equal footing. We present a united front to the world, secure our families’ alliance, but behind closed doors? We live our lives how we want.”

“And what about love?” You ask, hating how vulnerable you sound. “What about building a real relationship?”

Charles reaches out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The gentle touch sends shivers down your spine. “Who says that can’t happen naturally? We have time. We can take things slow, get to know each other properly.”

You swallow hard, your heart racing. “And if we end up hating each other?”

“Then we’ll still be the most dangerous power couple the mafia world has ever seen,” Charles grins. “Think about it. With your fire and my charm, we could rule this entire underworld.”

You can’t help but laugh, the tension finally breaking. “You’re impossible.”

“I prefer to think of myself as irresistible,” Charles winks.

Rolling your eyes, you start walking again. “Don’t push your luck, Leclerc.”

As you near the house, Charles suddenly stops, turning to face you. His expression is more serious now, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes.

“Listen, Y/N,” he says softly. “I know this isn’t ideal for either of us. But I meant what I said about making it work. I respect you, and I want us to build something real, even if it starts from an arrangement.”

You study him, searching for any sign of deception. Finding none, you nod slowly. “Okay. I’m willing to try if you are.”

Charles breaks into a genuine smile, one that transforms his entire face. “That’s all I ask.”

As you stand there, bathed in the dying light of the day, you feel something shift between you. It’s not love, not yet, but it’s a beginning. A spark of possibility that could, with time and nurturing, grow into something beautiful.

Charles takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. Slowly, deliberately, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to the corner of your lips. The touch is electric, sending a jolt through your entire body.

Pulling back slightly, Charles looks you up and down, a wicked glint in his eye. “You know what, Y/N? I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy everything you have to offer.”

And despite yourself, despite all your reservations and fears, you find yourself looking forward to proving him right.

***

Three months have passed in a whirlwind of preparations, negotiations, and stolen moments. Now, as the clock strikes midnight, you find yourself in the opulent bridal suite of the Leclerc compound, face to face with your new husband.

Charles stands before you, his tuxedo jacket discarded, bow tie hanging loosely around his neck. His eyes, dark with desire, never leave yours as he slowly begins to unbutton his shirt.

“Well, Mrs. Leclerc,” he drawls, a smirk playing on his lips. “Shall we consummate this union of ours?”

You roll your eyes, but can’t quite suppress the flutter in your stomach. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Charles. I’m still not convinced this wasn’t a terrible idea.”

He chuckles, stepping closer. “Always so prickly. It’s one of the things I love about you, you know.”

“Love?” You scoff, trying to ignore the way your heart skips at the word. “We’ve known each other for three months.”

Charles reaches out, his fingers trailing along your jawline. “Sometimes, that’s all it takes.”

You swallow hard, fighting the urge to lean into his touch. “Just ... help me out of this dress, will you? I can hardly breathe in this thing.”

“With pleasure,” Charles grins, moving behind you.

As he slowly lowers the zipper, his breath hot on your neck, you can’t help but shiver. The tension between you has been building for weeks, and now, alone at last, it threatens to consume you both.

The dress pools at your feet, leaving you in nothing but your undergarments and ...

Charles lets out a low whistle. “Well, well. What do we have here?”

You turn to face him, a wicked glint in your eye. Strapped to various parts of your body are an impressive array of weapons — daggers, throwing stars, even a small pistol holstered to your thigh.

“A girl’s got to be prepared,” you shrug, trying to appear nonchalant despite the heat rising to your cheeks.

Charles’ eyes roam over you, a mix of admiration and desire in his gaze. “I must say, I’m impressed. And more than a little turned on.”

You can’t help but laugh, some of the tension dissipating. “Is that all it takes? A few knives and you’re ready to go?”

“What can I say?” Charles grins, stepping closer. “I like a woman who can handle herself.”

His hands come to rest on your waist, fingers brushing against the hilt of a dagger. “Though I have to ask, were you planning to assassinate me on our wedding night?”

You smirk, trailing a finger down his chest. “The night’s still young, Mr. Leclerc. Don’t get too comfortable.”

Charles laughs, the sound rich and warm. “Oh, mon amour. What am I going to do with you?”

“I can think of a few things,” you murmur, surprising yourself with your boldness.

Charles’ eyes darken, his grip on your waist tightening. “Care to elaborate?”

Instead of answering, you reach up and pull him down for a kiss. It’s fierce and passionate, months of pent-up tension finally finding release. Charles responds eagerly, his hands roaming your body, carefully avoiding the various weapons still strapped to your skin.

When you finally break apart, both panting, Charles rests his forehead against yours. “As much as I’m enjoying this little arsenal of yours, perhaps we should disarm you before things get too ... heated.”

You nod, slightly dazed from the intensity of the kiss. “Probably a good idea. Wouldn’t want any unfortunate accidents.”

Charles steps back, his eyes never leaving yours as you begin to remove the weapons one by one. With each knife that clatters to the ground, the air between you grows thicker with anticipation.

“You know,” Charles muses, watching as you unholster the pistol from your thigh, “most brides wear a garter. You went for a whole armory.”

You smirk, setting the gun carefully on a nearby table. “I’m not most brides.”

“No,” Charles agrees, his voice low and husky. “You certainly aren’t.”

As you remove the last dagger, Charles closes the distance between you once more. His hands, warm and calloused, cup your face gently.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, his thumbs tracing your cheekbones. “I know this isn’t how either of us imagined getting married. But I want you to know, I’m glad it’s you.”

You swallow hard, caught off guard by the sincerity in his eyes. “Charles, I-”

He silences you with a soft kiss, so different from the passionate one you shared earlier. This one is tender, almost reverent, and it makes your knees weak.

When he pulls back, you’re both breathing heavily. “You don’t have to say anything,” Charles whispers. “Just ... be here with me. In this moment.”

You nod, unable to form words. Instead, you reach for the buttons of his shirt, your fingers trembling slightly as you undo them one by one.

Charles watches you, his eyes dark with desire. As you push the shirt off his shoulders, revealing his toned chest, he lets out a shaky breath. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his hands settling on your hips.

You blush, unused to such open admiration. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you manage to quip, trying to regain some of your usual bravado.

Charles chuckles, pulling you closer. “Always with the sharp tongue. I wonder what else it can do.”

Before you can retort, his lips are on yours again, hot and demanding. You melt into the kiss, your hands exploring the planes of his chest, tracing old scars and feeling the rapid beat of his heart.

Charles’ fingers find the clasp of your bra, and he pauses, looking at you questioningly. You nod, giving him permission, and he deftly unhooks it, letting it fall to the floor.

“Gorgeous,” he breathes, his eyes roaming over your newly exposed skin. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

You fight the urge to cover yourself, instead meeting his gaze defiantly. “Your turn,” you say, your hands moving to his belt.

Charles grins, helping you undo the buckle. “Eager, are we?”

“Shut up,” you mutter, but there’s no real heat behind it.

As you both finish undressing, the air between you crackles with anticipation. Charles takes your hand, leading you towards the massive four-poster bed that dominates the room.

“Last chance to back out,” he says softly, his thumb tracing circles on your palm.

You look up at him, taking in the mixture of desire and vulnerability in his eyes. Despite everything, despite the arranged nature of your marriage and the complexities of your world, you find yourself wanting this.

Wanting him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper, pulling him down onto the bed with you.

What follows is a dance of passion and discovery. Charles’ hands and lips seem to be everywhere at once, mapping out every inch of your skin. You’re not passive either, giving as good as you get, reveling in the way he gasps and moans under your touch.

It’s not perfect — there are moments of awkwardness, of fumbling and laughter. But it’s real, and raw, and more intense than anything you’ve ever experienced.

As you both near the edge, Charles looks down at you, his eyes filled with an emotion you’re not quite ready to name. “Y/N,” he pants, his movements becoming more erratic. “God, Y/N ...”

You arch against him, your nails digging into his back. “Charles,” you gasp, teetering on the brink. “I’m ... I’m ...”

He captures your lips in a searing kiss as you both tumble over the edge together, waves of pleasure washing over you.

Afterwards, you lie tangled together, both struggling to catch your breath. Charles props himself up on one elbow, looking down at you with a mixture of satisfaction and wonder.

“Well,” he says, a grin spreading across his face. “I’d say that was a successful consummation, wouldn’t you?”

You can’t help but laugh, swatting at his chest playfully. “It wasn’t terrible,” you concede, trying to maintain some semblance of your usual sass.

Charles raises an eyebrow, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. “Not terrible? I seem to recall you being quite ... vocal in your appreciation.”

You blush, burying your face in his chest to hide your embarrassment. “Shut up,” you mutter, your words muffled against his skin.

Charles chuckles, the sound reverberating through his chest. “Never,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I plan on making you that vocal every night for the rest of our lives.”

You pull back, looking up at him with a mixture of exasperation and fondness. “You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“It’s part of my charm,” he winks, leaning down to steal another kiss.

As you settle into each other’s arms, a comfortable silence falls between you. Charles’ fingers continue their gentle exploration of your skin, occasionally brushing against the spots where your weapons had been strapped earlier.

“I have to say,” he murmurs after a while, “I’m looking forward to discovering what other surprises you have in store for me, Mrs. Leclerc.”

You tense slightly at the name, reality crashing back in. “About that,” you say, sitting up and pulling the sheet around you. “This ... what just happened... it doesn’t change anything.”

Charles frowns, propping himself up on his elbows. “What do you mean?”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. “I mean, this was ... enjoyable. But it doesn’t change the fact that we were forced into this marriage. That our lives are being dictated by our families and their alliances.”

“Y/N,” Charles says softly, reaching out to touch your arm. “I thought ... I thought we were past that. That we were building something real here.”

You close your eyes, fighting back the conflicting emotions swirling inside you. “We are. I think. But it doesn’t erase the circumstances that brought us together. I just ... I need you to understand that.”

Charles is quiet for a moment, his hand still resting on your arm. When he speaks, his voice is low and intense. “I understand. But, mon cœur, look at me.”

Reluctantly, you meet his gaze. The depth of emotion you see there takes your breath away.

“Yes, our marriage was arranged,” he says. “But what’s happening between us? That’s real. That’s ours. And I’m not going to let anyone, not our families, not the entire damn underworld, take that away from us. Okay?”

You swallow hard, fighting back tears you didn’t even realize were threatening to fall. “Okay,” you whisper.

Charles pulls you back down into his arms, holding you close. You let yourself relax against him, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“For what it’s worth,” you murmur after a while, your fingers tracing the lines of a scar on his abdomen, “I’m glad it’s you too.”

But you’re still going to give him hell every step of the way. After all, where would be the fun in making it easy?

***

The gala is in full swing, crystal chandeliers casting a warm glow over the ballroom of the Leclerc compound. You stand by Charles’ side, both of you the picture of mafia royalty in your evening wear. Your hand rests on his arm, a gesture that has become natural over the past few months.

“Smile, mon chérie,” Charles murmurs, his lips barely moving. “The Woking representative is watching.”

You plaster on your most charming smile, leaning into Charles slightly. “How long do we have to keep this up?” You whisper back.

Charles chuckles, the sound low and warm. “Until we’ve sufficiently convinced everyone that we’re madly in love. So … forever.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. “You’re impossible.”

“You love it,” he winks, before turning to greet an approaching guest.

As Charles engages in small talk, you let your gaze wander around the room. Something feels off, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. Years of growing up in the Bratva have honed your instincts, and right now, they’re screaming danger.

“Charles,” you murmur, interrupting his conversation. “Something’s wrong.”

He looks at you sharply, instantly alert. “What is it?”

Before you can answer, the lights go out. The room erupts into chaos, shouts of confusion and fear filling the air.

Charles’ arm wraps around you protectively. “Stay close,” he orders, his voice tense.

Suddenly, gunshots ring out. Glass shatters, and screams pierce the darkness. You feel Charles being torn away from you, and panic sets in.

“Charles!” You shout, reaching for him blindly.

A hand grabs your arm, but you know instantly it’s not Charles. You react on instinct, twisting and striking out with your elbow. There’s a grunt of pain, and the grip loosens.

The emergency lights flicker on, casting an eerie red glow over the scene. Bodies litter the floor, some moving, others disturbingly still. You scan the room frantically for Charles, your heart pounding.

A movement catches your eye, and you turn to see a man in a black mask aiming a gun at you. Time seems to slow down as you reach for the knife strapped to your thigh, cursing yourself for not being more heavily armed.

Just as the man’s finger tightens on the trigger, a blur of motion tackles him to the ground. Charles. Relief floods through you, quickly replaced by fear as you see them grappling on the floor.

You rush forward, knife in hand, but more masked figures appear, surrounding you. You fight with everything you have, your knife flashing in the dim light, but you’re outnumbered.

A sharp pain explodes in the back of your head, and the world goes dark.

When you come to, you’re tied to a chair in what looks like an abandoned warehouse. Your head throbs, and you can taste blood in your mouth. As your vision clears, you see Charles tied to another chair a few feet away, his face bruised and bloody.

“Y/N,” he breathes when he sees you’re awake. “Are you alright?”

You nod, wincing at the movement. “I’m fine. What happened? Where are we?”

Before Charles can answer, a door slams open. A man strolls in, his expensive suit at odds with the grimy surroundings. You recognize him immediately — Zak Brown, head of the Woking Crime Family.

“Well, well,” Brown drawls, a cruel smile on his face. “The newlyweds are finally awake. How touching.”

Charles strains against his bonds, his eyes blazing with fury. “Brown, you bastard. What do you want?”

Brown chuckles, circling your chairs like a shark. “What do I want? Oh, nothing much. Just the complete destruction of the Bratva and Monegasque Mafia. And you two are going to help me achieve that.”

You spit blood at his feet. “Go to hell.”

“Feisty,” Brown grins, stopping in front of you. “I can see why Leclerc here is so taken with you.”

He reaches out, grabbing your chin roughly. You try to jerk away, but his grip is like iron.

“Don’t touch her!” Charles roars, his chair scraping against the concrete as he struggles.

Brown ignores him, his eyes locked on yours. “You know, I’ve always had a thing for Bratva princesses. Maybe once this is all over, I’ll keep you for myself.”

Charles’ voice is low and dangerous when he speaks. “If you so much as lay another finger on my wife, I will tear you apart with my bare hands.”

Brown turns to him, eyebrow raised. “My, my. Such passion. And here I thought this was just a marriage of convenience.”

You look at Charles, surprised by the intensity of his reaction. His eyes meet yours, and the emotion you see there takes your breath away.

Brown claps his hands, breaking the moment. “As touching as this is, we have business to attend to. You’re going to call your fathers and tell them to surrender control of their organizations to me. If you don’t, well ...” He pulls out a gun, pointing it at your head. “I’m sure you can imagine the consequences.”

Charles laughs, the sound harsh and bitter. “You’re delusional if you think that will work. Our fathers would sacrifice us in a heartbeat to maintain control.”

“Perhaps,” Brown shrugs. “But are you willing to take that chance?” He cocks the gun, pressing it against your temple.

You close your eyes, steeling yourself. “Do it,” you spit out. “I’d rather die than betray my family.”

“Y/N, no,” Charles says, his voice breaking.

You open your eyes, meeting his gaze. “It’s okay, Charles. We always knew this could happen.”

Brown looks between you, frustration evident on his face. “Enough of this noble sacrifice bullshit. You have one hour to make your decision. I’ll be back.”

He storms out, slamming the door behind him.

The moment he’s gone, you start working on your bonds. “Charles, can you reach the knife in my hair?”

He blinks, momentarily confused. “You have a knife in your hair?”

You roll your eyes. “Of course I do. Now hurry, before they come back.”

Charles manages to scoot his chair closer, awkwardly fumbling with your elaborate updo. After a few tense moments, he lets out a triumphant “Aha!” As he extracts a small, razor-sharp blade using nothing but his mouth.

“You never cease to amaze me,” he murmurs, a hint of pride in his voice.

Working together, you manage to cut through your ropes. Once free, you make quick work of Charles’ bonds.

“Okay,” you whisper, rubbing your wrists. “We need a plan.”

Charles nods, his eyes scanning the room. “There’s probably guards outside. We’ll need a distraction.”

You grin, reaching into your dress and pulling out a small explosive device. “Will this do?”

Charles stares at you in disbelief. “Where did you ... you know what, never mind. I don’t want to know.”

You approach the door, setting the device. “Ready?”

Charles takes your hand, squeezing it gently. “Y/N, wait. Before we do this, I need you to know something.”

You turn to him, confused by the intensity in his eyes. “What is it?”

“I love you,” he says simply. “Not because of our families, not because of the arrangement. I love you, Y/N, for everything that you are.”

Your heart skips a beat, emotions swirling inside you. “Charles, I-”

The door bursts open, cutting you off. Brown stands there, gun raised, flanked by two guards.

“Well, isn’t this romantic,” he sneers. “I hate to interrupt, but-”

He doesn’t get to finish. Charles moves with lightning speed, tackling Brown to the ground. You react instantly, throwing your knife at one guard while launching yourself at the other.

The room erupts into chaos. Gunshots ring out, and you hear Charles grunt in pain. Fear grips your heart as you dispatch your opponent, turning to see Charles and Brown grappling on the floor, both bloodied.

Brown gains the upper hand, pinning Charles down and reaching for his discarded gun. Without thinking, you throw yourself at him, knocking him off Charles.

You end up on your back, Brown looming over you, his hands around your throat. Your vision starts to blur as you struggle for air.

Suddenly, the pressure is gone. You gasp, air flooding your lungs, and look up to see Charles standing over Brown’s crumpled form, a bloody pipe in his hand.

“That’s my fucking wife,” Charles snarls, his eyes blazing with a fury you’ve never seen before. “I’m going to kill you for touching her.”

As Charles raises the pipe again, you struggle to your feet. “Charles, wait!”

He pauses, looking at you with wild eyes. You place a hand on his arm, feeling the tremors running through his body.

“He’s not worth wasting more time,” you say softly. “Let’s just get out of here. The explosive will deal with him.”

For a moment, you think he might not listen. Then, slowly, he lowers the pipe. “You’re right,” he says, his voice hoarse. “Let’s go home.”

You make your way out of the warehouse, supporting each other. As you stumble into the cool night air, sirens wailing in the distance, Charles pulls you close.

“I meant what I said in there,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your forehead. “I love you, Y/N. More than I ever thought possible.”

You look up at him, seeing the truth of his words in his eyes. In that moment, all your doubts and reservations melt away. You realize that somewhere along the way, despite the arranged marriage, despite the danger and complexity of your lives, you’ve fallen in love with Charles Leclerc.

“I love you too,” you whisper, the words feeling right on your tongue. “God help me, but I do.”

Charles’ face breaks into a radiant smile, and he leans down to kiss you. It’s not the most comfortable kiss — you’re both battered and bloody, adrenaline still coursing through your veins — but it’s real and raw and perfect.

As you break apart, breathless, Charles rests his forehead against yours. “What do you say we get out of here, Mrs. Leclerc? I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound slightly hysterical with relief and lingering fear. “Lead the way, Mr. Leclerc. But don’t think this means I’m going to start following your orders.”

Charles grins, taking your hand as you start walking. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Your stubbornness is one of the things I love most about you.”

***

The Leclerc mansion buzzes with activity as you and Charles prepare for an event you never quite imagined would be part of your lives: your son’s first parent-teacher conference. The past decade has been a whirlwind of change, love, and unexpected joy, with little Jules at the center of it all.

You stand before the full-length mirror in your bedroom, smoothing down your sleek pantsuit. It’s a far cry from the weapons-laden wedding dress of years past, but old habits die hard — there’s still a small knife concealed in your boot.

Charles appears behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. “You look beautiful, mon cœur. Though I must say, I’m a bit disappointed you didn’t opt for your thigh holster.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t suppress a smile. “Very funny. I’m trying to make a good impression here.”

“Ah yes,” Charles grins, pressing a kiss to your neck. “The fearsome Y/N Leclerc, terror of the underworld, now fretting over a parent-teacher conference. How the mighty have fallen.”

You elbow him playfully in the ribs. “Watch it, or you’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Charles spins you around to face him, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You wouldn’t dare. You’d miss me too much.”

“Try me,” you challenge, but there’s no heat in your words. After all these years, the banter between you is as natural as breathing.

A small voice pipes up from the doorway. “Mama, Papa, are you fighting again?”

You both turn to see Jules standing there, his mop of dark curls a mess and his school uniform slightly rumpled. At six years old, he’s the perfect blend of you and Charles — your fierce determination and Charles’ charm wrapped up in one precocious package.

Charles scoops him up, tossing him in the air and eliciting a squeal of delight. “Fighting? Us? Never. Your mother and I were just discussing the finer points of marital bliss.”

You snort, reaching out to smooth Jules’ hair. “What your father means is that he was being an idiot, as usual.”

Jules giggles, looking between the two of you with adoration. “Are you excited to meet Ms. Thompson? She’s really nice, I promise!”

You exchange a glance with Charles, a mixture of pride and apprehension in both your eyes. Sending Jules to a normal school had been a controversial decision among your families, but you were determined to give him as normal a childhood as possible — or at least, as normal as the son of two mafia leaders could have.

“Of course we’re excited, baby,” you say, tweaking Jules’ nose. “Now, why don’t you go make sure you have all your things ready? We’ll be leaving soon.”

As Jules scampers off, Charles pulls you close again. “You know,” he murmurs, “I’m actually a bit nervous about this.”

You look up at him, surprised. “You? Nervous? I never thought I’d see the day.”

Charles shrugs, a rare vulnerability in his eyes. “It’s different when it’s about Jules. I just ... I want everything to be perfect for him.”

You soften, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I know. Me too. But we’ve faced down rival mafia families, corrupt politicians, and your mother’s infamous Christmas dinners. I think we can handle one teacher.”

Charles laughs, the tension easing from his shoulders. “You’re right, as always. Though I do have one request.”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

He leans in close, his breath tickling your ear. “Try not to kill any teachers if you don’t like what they say, okay?”

You pull back, swatting his arm. “Charles Leclerc! I would never!”

“Uh-huh,” he grins, clearly unconvinced. “Need I remind you of the incident with Jules’ preschool teacher?”

You flush, crossing your arms defensively. “That was different. She suggested Jules might have behavior issues. I merely ... expressed my disagreement.”

“You threatened to feed her to the sharks in Monaco Harbor,” Charles deadpans.

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” You huff. “She never brought it up again.”

Charles shakes his head, chuckling. “Just ... try to restrain yourself this time, okay? We’re trying to give Jules a normal life, remember?”

You sigh dramatically. “Fine. I promise not to threaten, maim, or otherwise harm any of Jules’ teachers. Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Charles grins, leaning in for a quick kiss. “Now, shall we go face the music?”

As you make your way downstairs, Jules is waiting by the door, bouncing on his toes with excitement. “Come on, come on!” He urges. “We don’t want to be late!”

You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “Alright, little man. Let’s go.”

The drive to the school is filled with Jules’ chatter about his friends, his favorite subjects, and how he’s sure Ms. Thompson will have only good things to say. You and Charles listen attentively, exchanging fond glances over Jules’ head.

As you pull into the school parking lot, you feel a flutter of nerves in your stomach. It’s ridiculous, really. You’ve faced down countless dangerous situations without breaking a sweat, but somehow, this feels more daunting.

Charles seems to sense your unease. He takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ve got this,” he murmurs. “Just remember — no death threats.”

You roll your eyes but squeeze his hand back. “I’ll do my best.”

Jules leads the way into the school, practically skipping down the hallway. You and Charles follow, hand-in-hand, drawing curious glances from other parents and teachers. It’s not every day that two of the most powerful figures in the criminal underworld show up for a parent-teacher conference.

As you approach Ms. Thompson’s classroom, Jules turns to you both. “Best behavior, okay?” He says seriously, wagging a finger at you. “No fighting, no threatening, and absolutely no talk about the family business.”

You and Charles exchange an amused glance. “Yes, sir,” Charles says solemnly. “We promise to be on our best behavior.”

Jules nods, satisfied, then knocks on the classroom door before scurrying away to meet up with his friends.

Ms. Thompson, a kind-faced woman in her forties, opens the door with a warm smile. “Ah, the Leclercs! Please, come in.”

As you enter the classroom, you can’t help but scan for potential threats — an old habit that’s hard to break. Charles notices and gives you a gentle nudge, a silent reminder to relax.

“Mr. and Mrs. Leclerc, it’s so nice to finally meet you,” Ms. Thompson says, gesturing for you to sit. “Jules talks about you all the time.”

You exchange a slightly worried glance with Charles. “All good things, I hope,” you say, trying to keep your tone light.

Ms. Thompson laughs. “Oh, mostly. Though I must admit, some of his stories are quite ... imaginative.”

Charles leans forward, curiosity piqued. “Oh? Like what?”

“Well,” Ms. Thompson says, a twinkle in her eye, “there was the time he told the class that his parents once fought off a rival family with nothing but a butter knife and a bottle of expensive champagne.”

You cough, trying to hide your surprise. That particular story wasn’t as exaggerated as Ms. Thompson probably believed. Charles, meanwhile, looks entirely too amused.

“Kids and their imaginations,” he says smoothly. “Though I must say, that does sound like an exciting dinner party.”

Ms. Thompson chuckles. “Indeed. But let’s focus on Jules’ academic progress, shall we?”

As she begins to go through Jules’ work, showing you his assignments and discussing his strengths and areas for improvement, you find yourself relaxing. Jules is doing well — excelling, even — and Ms. Thompson seems genuinely fond of him.

“He’s a bright boy,” she says warmly. “Very curious and always eager to learn. He does have a tendency to ... embellish his stories during show and tell, but his creativity is truly remarkable.”

You nod, a surge of pride washing over you. “That’s our Jules,” you say softly, glancing at Charles. His eyes are shining with the same pride and love you feel.

Ms. Thompson hesitates for a moment, then continues. “There is one small concern I wanted to discuss with you both.”

You tense immediately, your hand instinctively moving towards your concealed knife. Charles notices and quickly places his hand over yours, shooting you a warning look.

“What kind of concern?” He asks smoothly, while keeping a firm grip on your hand.

Ms. Thompson looks slightly nervous, but presses on. “Well, Jules has been ... rather interested in weapons lately. He’s been drawing quite detailed pictures of various firearms and knives. While his artistic skills are impressive, I’m a bit worried about the subject matter.”

You and Charles exchange a look. This is exactly the kind of situation you’d been afraid of — how do you explain that weapons are simply a part of your daily life without revealing too much?

Charles clears his throat. “Ah, yes. Well, you see, my wife and I are ... collectors. Of antique weapons. It’s a family hobby, you might say. Jules must have seen some of our pieces.”

You nod quickly, grateful for Charles’ quick thinking. “Exactly. We’ll have a talk with him about appropriate subjects for school, of course.”

Ms. Thompson looks relieved. “Oh, I see. That explains it. Yes, a talk about school-appropriate topics would be wonderful. Other than that, Jules is a joy to have in class.”

As the conference wraps up, you feel a weight lift off your shoulders. You managed to get through it without any threats or revelations about your true profession. Charles seems equally relieved as you say your goodbyes and head out to collect Jules from the playground.

Once you’re back in the car, Jules in the backseat, he leans forward eagerly. “Well? How did it go? Did I do okay?”

You turn in your seat to face him, your heart swelling with love. “You did more than okay, sweetheart. We’re so proud of you.”

Charles nods in agreement. “That’s right, mon chou. Though we do need to have a little chat about those weapon drawings ...”

Jules has the grace to look sheepish. “Oops. Sorry about that. I just thought they were cool.”

You can’t help but laugh. “It’s alright. Just ... maybe stick to drawing cars or dinosaurs at school, okay?”

As you drive home, Jules chattering away in the backseat, you reach over and take Charles’ hand. He glances at you, a soft smile on his face.

“We did it,” you murmur. “No threats, no violence, not even a single mention of sleeping with the fishes.”

Charles chuckles, bringing your hand to his lips for a kiss. “I’m impressed. Though I have to say, I was a little disappointed. I was looking forward to seeing you go all mama bear.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no heat in it. “There’s always next time,” you say with a wink.

As you pull into the driveway of your home, you can’t help but marvel at how much your life has changed. From reluctant bride to devoted wife and mother, from cold-hearted mafia princess to ... well, an only slightly less cold-hearted mafia queen.

But looking at Charles and Jules, you wouldn’t have it any other way. This beautiful, chaotic, sometimes dangerous life you’ve built together — it’s more than you ever dared to dream of.

And if anyone tries to threaten this happiness? Well, you still know how to use that knife in your boot. Some things never change, after all.

***

Sarah Dumas nervously adjusts her cardigan as she enters the school gymnasium for the monthly PTA meeting. Even after three years, she still feels out of place among the other parents. Her eyes scan the room, landing on the couple that always draws everyone’s attention: Charles and Y/N Leclerc.

They stand near the refreshment table, an island of elegance and barely contained danger in a sea of suburban normalcy. Charles, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, laughs at something you’ve said, his hand resting casually on the small of your back. You, for your part, look like you’ve just stepped off a runway, your designer outfit a stark contrast to the mom jeans and polos that dominate the room.

Sarah edges closer, trying to catch snippets of the conversation.

“Mon amour,” Charles is saying, a mischievous glint in his eye, “I still think my idea for the fundraiser was brilliant.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s fondness in your expression. “Charles, we’ve been over this. We can’t auction off ‘A Day in the Life of a Mafia Boss’ as a school fundraiser.”

“Why not?” Charles pouts playfully. “I’d even throw in a complimentary lesson in money laundering. Think of the educational value!”

Sarah’s eyes widen. Surely they must be joking. Right?

Before she can ponder it further, the PTA president, Marie Fournier, calls the meeting to order. As everyone takes their seats, Sarah finds herself next to Beth, another mom she’s friendly with.

“Can you believe them?” Beth whispers, nodding towards the Leclercs. “They always act like they own the place.”

Sarah shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. “They’re ... certainly unique.”

Beth snorts. “That’s one way to put it. Did you hear about what happened at the last bake sale?”

Sarah shakes her head, leaning in eagerly.

“Well,” Beth continues, her voice low, “apparently, Mrs. Leclerc’s lemon bars were so good that Mr. Peterson from the school board accused her of cheating. Next thing you know, Mr. Leclerc has him cornered, whispering something about ‘sleeping with the fishes’ if he ever insulted his wife’s baking again!”

Sarah gasps. “No! What happened?”

Beth grins. “Mr. Peterson went white as a sheet and bought every single lemon bar. Paid triple the asking price, too.”

Their gossip is interrupted as Marie starts discussing the upcoming spring carnival. “Now, we still need volunteers for the dunk tank ...”

To everyone’s surprise, Charles’ hand shoots up. “I’ll do it,” he says, flashing a charming smile.

Marie blinks, clearly taken aback. “Oh, um, thank you, Mr. Leclerc. That’s very ... generous of you.”

You lean over to Charles, whispering something that makes him chuckle. Sarah strains to hear, catching only fragments: “... better than the time in Majorca ... at least this time you’ll be expecting the water ...”

The meeting continues, with discussions about budget allocation, new playground equipment, and the eternal debate over chocolate versus vanilla for the ice cream social. Throughout it all, Sarah can’t help but notice how the Leclercs seem to operate on a different wavelength from everyone else.

When the topic of security for the carnival comes up, you speak up for the first time. “I have some ... associates who would be happy to help out. Free of charge, of course.”

Marie looks both relieved and slightly terrified. “That’s very kind of you, Mrs. Leclerc. Are these associates ... qualified?”

You smile, a predatory gleam in your eye. “Oh, trust me. They’re very qualified in handling ... difficult situations.”

Charles coughs, poorly disguising a laugh. “What my wife means is that they’re experienced in crowd control and conflict resolution.”

The other parents exchange nervous glances, but no one dares to question further.

As the meeting wraps up, Sarah finds herself lingering, oddly fascinated by the Leclercs. She watches as they approach Marie, speaking in low tones. Marie’s eyes widen, and she nods vigorously before scurrying away.

Curiosity gets the better of Sarah, and she edges closer, pretending to study the snack table.

“... really, mon cœur,” Charles is saying, “you didn’t have to threaten her kneecaps.”

You shrug, a small smirk playing on your lips. “It worked, didn’t it? Now Jules’ class will get that field trip to the science museum he’s been asking for.”

Charles shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “You’re a menace. What am I going to do with you?”

“You love it,” you reply, leaning in for a quick kiss.

Sarah fumbles with a paper cup, causing it to clatter to the floor. The Leclercs turn, fixing her with twin looks of amusement.

“Enjoying the refreshments, Mrs. Dumas?” Charles asks smoothly.

Sarah feels her face heat up. “I, um, yes. The cookies are lovely.”

You step forward, your movements graceful and somehow predatory. “Sarah, isn’t it? Jules has mentioned your daughter, Emma. They’re in the same class, right?”

Sarah nods, surprised and a little flattered that you know this. “Yes, that’s right. Emma talks about Jules all the time. He seems like a wonderful boy.”

Charles beams with pride. “He takes after his mother,” he says, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You roll your eyes but lean into his touch. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Leclerc.”

There’s a moment of silence, and Sarah realizes she should probably say something. “So, um, how are you finding the PTA? It must be quite different from ... well, from what you’re used to.”

The moment the words leave her mouth, Sarah wants to kick herself. What was she thinking?

To her relief, the Leclercs just laugh. “Oh, you’d be surprised,” you say, a twinkle in your eye. “Managing a group of passionate parents isn’t all that different from managing our ... family businesses.”

Charles nods sagely. “Though I must say, the stakes here can be even higher. You should have seen the great Cupcake Debacle of 2032.”

Sarah finds herself relaxing, drawn in by their easy charm. “Oh? What happened?”

You lean in conspiratorially. “Let’s just say it involved three kinds of frosting, a rogue flamingo, and a very creative use for a fire extinguisher.”

Sarah bursts out laughing, surprising herself. As intimidating as the Leclercs can be, there’s something undeniably magnetic about them.

Just then, Beth appears at Sarah’s elbow. “Sarah, we should get going. Carpool, remember?”

Sarah nods, feeling a strange reluctance to leave. “Of course. It was nice talking to you, Mr. and Mrs. Leclerc.”

Charles flashes that devastating smile again. “The pleasure was all ours. Oh, and Sarah?”

She turns back, curious. “Yes?”

“Do make sure to bring Emma to the carnival. I have a feeling the dunk tank is going to be ... quite the spectacle this year.”

As Sarah walks away with Beth, she can’t shake the feeling that she’s just had a brush with something both thrilling and dangerous.

Beth, meanwhile, is practically vibrating with curiosity. “What were you talking about with them? Did they say anything ... weird?”

Sarah considers for a moment. “Not really. They seem ... nice, actually. A bit eccentric, maybe, but nice.”

Beth looks skeptical. “Nice? Sarah, last week Mr. Leclerc showed up to career day and gave a presentation on ‘The Art of Negotiation’. Half the kids looked terrified, and the other half wanted to sign up for internships!”

Sarah can’t help but laugh. “Well, at least it was memorable. And you have to admit, they’ve done wonders for the school’s fundraising efforts.”

Beth nods grudgingly. “True. Though I’m not entirely sure where all that money is coming from ...”

As they reach Beth’s minivan, Sarah glances back at the school. She catches a glimpse of the Leclercs through a window, heads bent close together, clearly deep in conversation. There’s an intensity to their body language that makes Sarah’s breath catch.

For a moment, she allows herself to imagine what their life must be like outside of PTA meetings and school functions. The glamor, the danger, the passion ... it’s all so far removed from her own suburban existence.

But then Beth honks the horn, jolting Sarah back to reality. With a small sigh, she climbs into the van, ready to return to her normal life of carpools and casseroles.

As they drive away, Sarah can’t help but think that the spring carnival is going to be very interesting indeed. And despite herself, she’s looking forward to it more than she’d care to admit.

Over the next few weeks, preparations for the carnival kick into high gear. Sarah finds herself volunteering more than usual, partly out of genuine enthusiasm and partly (though she would never admit it) to catch more glimpses of the enigmatic Leclercs.

The day of the carnival dawns bright and clear. Sarah arrives early to help set up, her arms full of homemade cupcakes. As she approaches the school grounds, she nearly drops her baked goods in shock.

The usually modest school field has been transformed into something out of a movie. There are professional-grade rides, gourmet food stalls, and even a small Ferris wheel. And is that ... a chocolate fountain?

“Impressive, isn’t it?” A familiar voice says behind her.

Sarah turns to see Charles Leclerc, looking impossibly dashing in casual wear that probably costs more than her monthly mortgage payment.

“Mr. Leclerc! This is ... wow. How did you manage all this?”

Charles winks conspiratorially. “Let’s just say I called in a few favors. And please, call me Charles.”

Before Sarah can respond, you appear at Charles’ side, looking stunning in a sundress that’s both elegant and practical. “Darling, everything’s set up. Oh, hello Sarah. Those cupcakes look delicious.”

Sarah blushes under your scrutiny. “Thank you, Mrs. Lecl- I mean, Y/N. It’s my grandmother’s recipe.”

You smile, and for a moment, Sarah forgets to breathe. “I’m sure they’re wonderful. Why don’t you bring them over to the bake sale table? I hear Mr. Peterson has already reserved half of them.”

As Sarah walks away, she overhears Charles murmuring to you, “Did you really have to station Dmitri and the boys at every entrance?”

“Better safe than sorry,” you reply. “Besides, they’re under strict orders. No weapons, no intimidation, and absolutely no business talk around the children.”

Sarah shakes her head, convincing herself she must have misheard. Surely you’re talking about regular security guards. Right?

The carnival is a roaring success. Children laugh and scream with delight on the rides, parents chat over gourmet hors d’oeuvres, and there’s a general air of festivity that Sarah has never seen at a school event before.

But the real highlight, as promised, is the dunk tank. Charles takes his place on the seat, looking for all the world like he’s about to attend a board meeting rather than be dunked in water. You stand nearby, a mischievous glint in your eye as you buy a stack of balls.

“Step right up, ladies and gentlemen!” Charles calls out, his voice carrying across the field. “Who wants to dunk the dashing Mr. Leclerc? All proceeds go to the school’s new science lab!”

A crowd gathers, equal parts amused and intimidated. Sarah watches as you take aim, a look of intense concentration on your face.

“Come on, mon chèrie,” Charles taunts playfully. “Surely the feared Y/N Leclerc can hit a simple target?”

Your eyes narrow. “Oh, it’s on.”

The ball flies true, hitting the target dead center. Charles barely has time to look surprised before he plunges into the water. The crowd erupts in cheers and laughter.

When Charles resurfaces, he’s laughing too. “Well played. Well played indeed.”

As the day winds down, Sarah finds herself helping with clean-up, still buzzing from the excitement. She overhears snippets of conversation from other parents, all marveling at the success of the event.

“I heard they quadrupled the fundraising goal ...”

“Did you see those security guards? They looked like they could bench-press a car ...”

“I swear I saw Mrs. Leclerc talking to the Mayor. Since when do we have connections like that?”

Sarah smiles to herself, realizing that while the Leclercs may not fit the typical PTA mold, they’ve brought something special to their little community. Something exciting, glamorous, and yes, maybe a little dangerous.

As she’s about to leave, she spots the Leclercs by their sleek Ferrari. They’re wrapped in each other’s arms, oblivious to the world around them. The look they share is so full of love and passion that Sarah has to look away, feeling like she’s intruding on a private moment.

Driving home, Sarah reflects on the day. She still can’t quite put her finger on what makes the Leclercs so different, so intriguing. But she knows one thing for certain: life has become a lot more interesting since their son joined the school.

And as she pulls into her driveway, Sarah finds herself looking forward to the next PTA meeting more than she ever thought possible. After all, who knows what the Leclercs will come up with next?

***

Nurse Marion Bouchard has seen her fair share of unusual deliveries in her 15 years at the Princess Grace Hospital Centre, but nothing could have prepared her for the arrival of the Leclerc baby.

It starts with the mysterious men in dark suits who seem to materialize out of nowhere, clearing out an entire wing of the maternity ward. Marion watches, wide-eyed, as they sweep the rooms for ... something. Bugs? Bombs? She isn’t sure she wants to know.

“Excuse me,” she finally musters the courage to approach one of them. “What’s going on here?”

The man turns, his expression impassive behind dark sunglasses. “Security measures. The Leclercs are arriving.”

Before Marion can ask more, a commotion at the end of the hall catches her attention. A striking couple bursts through the doors, surrounded by more suited men. The woman is clearly in labor, but looks more annoyed than pained.

“I swear to God, Charles,” you are saying through gritted teeth, “when this is over, I’m going to make you regret ever looking at me without a condom.”

The man looks both terrified and amused. “Mon amour, you say the sweetest things.”

Dr. Evans, the head of obstetrics, rushes forward. “Mr. and Mrs. Leclerc, welcome. We have everything prepared-”

You cut him off with a glare that could melt steel. “Less talking, more drugs. Now.”

Marion finds herself assigned to your care team, helping you into a private suite that looks more like a five-star hotel room than a hospital. As she hooks up the fetal monitor, she can’t help but notice the way Charles hovers, his eyes constantly scanning the room for threats.

“Is this your first child?” Marion asks, trying to break the tension.

You laugh, a sound somewhere between amusement and pain. “Second. Our son, Jules, is at home with his grandfather. Probably learning how to properly strangle someone as we speak.”

Marion’s eyes widen, and she lets out a nervous chuckle, unsure if you are joking.

Charles steps in smoothly. “What my lovely wife means is that Jules is likely being spoiled rotten with ice cream and cartoons.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure, let’s go with that. Now, where are those damn drugs?”

As if on cue, the anesthesiologist enters. Marion notices how one of the suited men outside tenses, hand moving to his jacket, before relaxing at a subtle nod from Charles.

Hours pass, and Marion finds herself more and more fascinated by the Leclercs. Despite the pain of labor, you maintain a razor-sharp wit, alternating between threats to Charles’ manhood and startlingly accurate assessments of hospital security protocols.

“You know,” you pant during a particularly strong contraction, “if you really loved me, you’d let me stab you just a little. It’s only fair.”

Charles, to his credit, doesn’t even flinch. He just strokes your hair and says, “How about we save the stabbing for our anniversary? As is tradition.”

Marion’s head whips around, but both of you are grinning at each other like it’s some private joke.

As the labor progresses, Marion can’t shake the feeling that something is ... off about the Leclercs. It isn’t just the excessive security or the luxurious accommodations. There is an undercurrent of danger, of barely contained power, that both thrills and terrifies her.

During a quiet moment, while you doze between contractions, Marion’s curiosity gets the better of her. “Mr. Leclerc,” she whispers, “if you don’t mind me asking, what is it that you do?”

Charles smiles enigmatically. “Oh, a bit of this, a bit of that. Mainly, I specialize in ... problem-solving.”

Before Marion can probe further, you jolt awake with a string of curses that would make a sailor blush.

“Charles,” you growl, “I swear on all that is holy, if you don’t get this baby out of me in the next five minutes, I will personally ensure that there will be no more little Leclercs.”

Charles pales slightly but maintains his composure. “Now, mon ange, let’s not be hasty. Remember São Paulo? This is nothing compared to that.”

You glare at him. “São Paulo didn’t involve pushing a human being out of my-”

“Okay!” Marion interjects quickly. “Let’s check your progress, shall we?”

As she examines you, Marion can’t help but wonder what on earth had happened in São Paulo. She has a feeling she is better off not knowing.

The next few hours are a blur of activity. You prove to be as fierce in childbirth as you apparently are in ... whatever it is you do outside the hospital. Marion loses count of the creative threats and punishments you devise for Charles, each more outlandish than the last.

“When this is over,” you pant, pushing with all your might, “I’m going to tie you to a chair and make you listen to Baby Shark on repeat for 24 hours straight.”

Charles winces. “Isn’t that a bit extreme? What happened to the good old days of cement shoes and sleeping with the fishes?”

Dr. Evans, who is positioned at the foot of the bed, looks up with a mixture of concern and confusion. “Mr. Leclerc, I’m not sure-”

“It’s a joke,” Charles says quickly. “An inside joke. From our ... cooking class.”

Marion exchanges a glance with Dr. Evans. Cooking class? Sure.

Finally, with one last heroic push and a string of curses that Marion is certain are in at least five different languages, your daughter enters the world.

The room falls silent for a moment, then fills with the strong, angry cries of a newborn who seems to have inherited her mother’s spirit.

“She’s beautiful,” Charles whispers, tears in his eyes as he cuts the umbilical cord.

You collapse back onto the pillows, exhausted but triumphant. “Of course she is. She’s ours.”

As Marion helps clean and weigh the baby, she can’t help but notice how the atmosphere in the room has changed. The danger and tension that had been simmering beneath the surface all day seem to evaporate, replaced by a bubble of pure love and joy.

Charles cradles his daughter gently, looking at her with a mixture of awe and terror. “Hello, little one,” he murmurs. “I’m your papa. I promise to always protect you, even if it means hiding bodies in the- I mean, even if it means staying up all night to chase away the monsters under your bed.”

You roll your eyes but smile softly. “Nice save. Now, give me my daughter before I have to get up and take her from you.”

As Charles places the baby in your arms, Marion feels like she is intruding on something incredibly intimate and precious. The way you look at each other, at your child, speaks of a bond that goes far beyond anything she’s ever witnessed.

“So,” Marion ventures, unable to contain her curiosity any longer, “have you decided on a name?”

You and Charles share a look, having one of those silent conversations that only couples who are completely in sync can have.

“Vittoria,” you say finally. “Vittoria Leclerc.”

“It means victory in Italian,” Charles explains, his voice filled with pride. “Because she’s already conquered our hearts.”

Marion smiles, charmed despite herself. “That’s beautiful. And very fitting, considering how fiercely she entered the world.”

You grin, a hint of your earlier fire returning. “Just wait until she’s older. She’ll be ruling the family busi- I mean, family game night in no time.”

As Marion finishes up her duties and prepares to leave the new family alone, she can’t shake the feeling that she’s just been part of something extraordinary. The Leclercs are unlike any couple she’s ever met, a whirlwind of passion, danger, and now, an overwhelming love for their children.

Just as she is about to exit, Charles calls out to her. “Nurse Bouchard?”

She turns, curious. “Yes, Mr. Leclerc?”

He fixes her with a penetrating gaze that makes her feel like he can see right through her. “We appreciate your discretion in this matter. The Leclerc family values privacy above all else.”

Marion swallows hard, suddenly very aware of the armed men still stationed outside the door. “Of course, Mr. Leclerc. Patient confidentiality is paramount in our profession.”

You chime in, your voice deceptively sweet. “And we’re so grateful for that. It would be such a shame if anything were to ... compromise that confidentiality. Don’t you agree, Charles?”

Charles nods, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Absolutely, mon cœur. A real tragedy.”

Marion feels a chill run down her spine. “I ... I understand. You can trust me completely.”

As Marion leaves the room, her head spinning, she can’t help but wonder what she’s gotten herself into. The Leclercs are clearly more than they appear, your world so far removed from her own that she can barely comprehend it.

But as she glances back one last time, seeing Charles press a tender kiss to your forehead while you cradle little Vittoria, she realizes that at your core, you are just like any other family. Loving, protective, and perhaps a little bit dangerous.

***

Stefan Wheeler wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans for the hundredth time as he stands before the imposing gates of the Leclerc estate. At 17, he thought he was prepared for anything, but meeting his girlfriend Vittoria’s family is proving to be more nerve-wracking than he’d anticipated.

“Relax,” Vittoria says, squeezing his hand. “They’re going to love you.”

Stefan nods, not entirely convinced. “Right. It’s just ... your family seems ... intense.”

Vittoria laughs, a sound that usually makes Stefan’s heart soar but now only heightens his anxiety. “Oh, you have no idea.”

As they approach the front door, it swings open before they can knock. A tall, imposing man with salt-and-pepper hair and piercing eyes stands there, his gaze immediately zeroing in on Stefan.

“Ah, you must be the boy,” he says, his voice smooth but with an undercurrent of... something Stefan can’t quite place.

Vittoria rolls her eyes. “Papa, be nice. This is Stefan. Stefan, this is my father, Charles Leclerc.”

Stefan extends his hand, hoping it isn’t visibly shaking. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Leclerc.”

Charles takes Stefan’s hand, his grip firm to the point of being painful. “Charmed, I’m sure. Please, come in. The family is eager to meet you.”

As they enter the foyer, Stefan’s eyes widen. The interior of the house is a strange blend of opulent luxury and what looks like ... medieval weaponry? He could have sworn he saw a battle axe mounted on one wall.

Before he can process this, a whirlwind of energy enters the room. You sweep in with a grace that seems almost predatory.

“So this is the famous Stefan,” you say, your smile not quite reaching your eyes. “We’ve heard so much about you.”

Stefan swallows hard. “All good things, I hope.”

You tilt your head, studying him intently. “Oh, Vittoria’s been very ... discreet. But we have our ways of finding out information.”

Charles chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Don’t terrify the boy just yet. We haven’t even made it to the dining room.”

Stefan laughs nervously, unsure if that is meant to be a joke.

Just then, a young man who could only be Vittoria’s older brother, Jules, saunters in. He is the spitting image of Charles, with an air of danger that makes Stefan want to take a step back.

“Well, well,” Jules drawls, circling Stefan like a shark. “So you’re the one who thinks he’s good enough for our Vittoria.”

Vittoria groans. “Jules, knock it off. You promised to behave.”

Jules grins, all teeth. “I am behaving. I haven’t even shown him my knife collection yet.”

Stefan’s eyes widen. “Knife ... collection?”

Charles claps his hands together. “Shall we move to the dining room? I’m sure our guest is hungry after his ... journey here.”

As they walk, Stefan can’t shake the feeling that he is being herded like prey. The dining room is as impressive as the rest of the house, with a table that could easily seat twenty.

“Please, sit,” Charles says, gesturing to a chair. Stefan notices it is positioned so that his back is to the door, while the Leclercs have clear sightlines to all exits.

As they settle in, you ring a small bell. Almost instantly, servers appear with plates of food that look and smell incredible.

“I hope you like Italian,” you say, your tone making it clear that not liking it isn’t an option.

Stefan nods enthusiastically. “Oh yes, I love it. This looks amazing, Mrs. Leclerc.”

You wave a hand dismissively. “Please, call me Y/N. Mrs. Leclerc makes me sound so ... old.”

Charles smirks. “You’re as youthful and deadly as the day I met you, mon cœur.”

Stefan blinks, sure he must have misheard. Deadly?

As they begin to eat, the interrogation starts in earnest.

“So, Stefan,” Charles says, twirling pasta around his fork with practiced ease. “What are your intentions with my daughter?”

Stefan nearly chokes on his food. “I ... uh ... we’re just dating, sir. Getting to know each other.”

Jules leans forward, his eyes glinting. “And how exactly are you getting to know her?”

“Jules!” Vittoria hisses, her cheeks flushing.

You interject smoothly. “What my son means is, what do you two do for fun?”

Stefan relaxes slightly. This, he can handle. “Oh, we go to the movies, hang out at the mall, normal stuff. Vittoria’s been teaching me how to play chess.”

Charles raises an eyebrow. “Chess? Interesting choice. Tell me, Stefan, do you know the importance of strategy? Of always being three moves ahead of your opponent?”

Stefan nods, confused by the intensity of Charles’ gaze. “Uh, yes. Vittoria’s been explaining that to me.”

“Good,” Charles says, leaning back. “That’s a valuable skill in ... many areas of life.”

The conversation continues, with each question feeling more like a trap than casual dinner talk. Stefan finds himself constantly on edge, trying to decipher the hidden meanings behind each seemingly innocent inquiry.

“What do your parents do, Stefan?” You ask, sipping what Stefan is pretty sure isn’t just water.

“My dad is an accountant and my mom’s a teacher,” Stefan replies.

Jules snorts. “How quaint. And what do you want to do with your life?”

Stefan straightens, feeling a bit more confident. “I’m actually really interested in law enforcement. I’m thinking of applying to the police academy after college.”

The room goes eerily silent. Stefan looks around, confused by the sudden tension.

Charles breaks the silence with a laugh that sounds only slightly forced. “Law enforcement? How ... admirable. You know, Stefan, there are many ways to uphold justice in this world. Some more effective than others.”

You nod, a strange glint in your eye. “Indeed. Sometimes the law needs a little ... help to get things done.”

Stefan shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “I ... I’m not sure I understand.”

Vittoria jumps in, clearly trying to change the subject. “Stefan’s also really into martial arts, Papa. He’s been teaching me some self-defense moves.”

This seems to pique Charles’ interest. “Is that so? Perhaps you’d like to demonstrate after dinner, Stefan. I’m always interested in ... new techniques.”

The way Charles says it makes Stefan feel like he is missing some crucial subtext.

As the meal progresses, Stefan can’t shake the feeling that he is being tested. Every question, every glance exchanged between family members, seems loaded with hidden meaning.

When dessert is served — a delicious tiramisu that Stefan is almost too nervous to enjoy — Jules leans forward with a predatory grin.

“So, Stefan,” he says, his voice deceptively casual. “Have you ever wondered what it would be like to make someone ... disappear?”

Stefan blinks, sure he must have misheard. “I’m sorry, what?”

Vittoria groans. “Jules, stop it.”

You intervene smoothly. “What my son means is, have you ever thought about the complexities of witness protection programs? It’s fascinating how someone can just ... vanish and start a new life.”

Charles nods sagely. “Indeed. The ability to reinvent oneself is a valuable skill in today’s world.”

Stefan nods slowly, feeling like he is missing some crucial piece of information. “I ... suppose so. I hadn’t really thought about it.”

As the meal winds down, Stefan feels like he’s run a mental marathon. Every interaction with the Leclercs leaves him slightly off-balance, as if there were entire conversations happening just beneath the surface that he can’t quite grasp.

Charles stands, clapping his hands together. “Well, this has been delightful. Stefan, why don’t you join me in my study for a nightcap?”

Vittoria starts to protest, but you cut her off with a look. “That sounds like an excellent idea. Jules, why don’t you help me and Vittoria clear the table?”

As Stefan follows Charles down a long hallway, he can’t shake the feeling that he is walking into the lion’s den. The study, when they enter, is a mix of old-world charm and modern technology. Bookshelves line the walls, but Stefan notices some titles that seem ... unusual for a family library. “Advanced Interrogation Techniques?” “Undetectable Poisons Throughout History?”

Charles gestures for Stefan to sit in a plush leather chair, then pours two glasses of amber liquid from a crystal decanter.

“Now, Stefan,” Charles says, his voice low and intense. “Let’s talk about what it really means to be part of the Leclerc family.”

Stefan swallows hard, suddenly very aware of how alone he is with this imposing man. “Sir?”

Charles leans forward, his eyes boring into Stefan’s. “Our family has ... certain traditions. Certain expectations. Dating a Leclerc isn’t like dating any other girl. Do you understand?”

Stefan nods slowly, though he isn’t sure he understands at all. “I ... I really care about Vittoria, Mr. Leclerc. I would never do anything to hurt her.”

Charles’ smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m glad to hear that. Because if you did ...” He lets the sentence hang in the air, the threat clear even if unspoken.

Just then, the door bursts open, and you stride in, looking exasperated. “Charles, are you terrorizing the poor boy?”

Charles leans back, the picture of innocence. “Not at all, mon amour. We were just having a friendly chat.”

You roll your eyes, but there is fondness in your expression. “Well, I think Stefan’s had enough friendly chats for one evening. Vittoria’s waiting to say goodnight.”

As you walk Stefan to the door, he feels like he’s survived some sort of elaborate test. The Leclercs gather around, their smiles a mix of warmth and warning.

“It was lovely to meet you, Stefan,” you say, your tone making it clear that lovely might be an overstatement.

Jules claps him on the back, perhaps a bit harder than necessary. “Yeah, kid. You’re not half bad. For a civilian.”

Stefan blinks, confused. “Civilian?”

Charles steps in smoothly. “What my son means is, for someone outside our ... close-knit family circle. We look forward to seeing more of you, Stefan.”

As Vittoria walks him to his car, Stefan’s head is spinning. “Your family is ... intense,” he manages.

Vittoria laughs. “I know. They can be a lot. But they mean well. Mostly.”

Stefan nods, still trying to process everything. “They’re not ... I mean, they don’t actually ...”

Vittoria raises an eyebrow. “Don’t actually what?”

Stefan shakes his head. “Never mind. It’s crazy. I just ... for a minute there, I almost thought ...” He trails off, laughing nervously.

Vittoria’s smile is enigmatic. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s probably best not to say it out loud. Plausible deniability and all that.”

As Stefan drives home, his mind races with questions. What has he gotten himself into? Who are the Leclercs, really? And why does he have the unsettling feeling that dating Vittoria might be the most dangerous thing he’s ever done?

One thing is certain: the Leclercs are unlike any family he’s ever met.

[reidmania]

post it note | s. reid

summary; when yours and spencer's schedules begin to clash making it hard to see each other - even while living together, a silent act of affection in the shape of a post it note helps make all better.

warnings; fem reader, reader has a job that needs her to wake up early, literally no angst really at all, this is pure fluff, the fluffest fluff ever, established relationships, this was gonna be a no dialogue fic, but there is dialogue and its the sweetest ever. spencer is clingy, spencer is SOO in love.

an; this is the fluffiest shit ive ever written, also i finally figured out how to make custom colours on this silly thing. 2k words yay.

It was a month since Spencer had asked you to move in with him when it all started. You wanted to be able to see each other more, since it was difficult to do so when he was being called out to cases constantly. While you would see each other when he got back, see each other whenever you could, between your work, and his, it made it difficult. You already had clothes at his house. The first time you had ever come over, he had given you a drawer in his dresser, dedicated to whatever you wanted to put into it.

That drawer grew to your necklaces and rings being left on his side table, a version of your perfume next to his cologne on top of his dresser, a toothbrush next to his in the white mug he used as a makeshift toothbrush holder, a pair of your shoes by the door, a few of your coats hanging up next to his by the entrance, your favourite snacks and drinks stocked in his pantry and fridge, you basically already lived there – because Spencer wanted you to be comfortable in the place of his house whenever you were there

So you moving in was a no brainer.

Unfortunately, it seemed the issue wasn’t such an easy fix. While you got comfortable in his home, and saw him somewhat more than before, new issues occurred. He didn’t get home most nights till you were already fast asleep, curled up on the side of the bed dedicated to you, he would shower and change as quietly as possible not to wake you, then he would slip into bed and pull you into his arms. You would shuffle and ease into his touch, he would fall asleep holding you, you would remain asleep in his arms.

Then, in the morning you would wake up before him to leave for work. You hated that, having to unwrap his arms from you and watch him shuffle uncomfortably before finding a replacement to your warmth in the thick covers. You would get ready quietly, before you would spend a moment sitting on the edge of the bed, making sure he was comfortable as you brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead, admiring his peaceful features, placing a kiss on his forehead before you left for the day.

When you did see each other, properly, consciously. Everything was fine, it was great. It was mostly when Spencer got to finish work earlier, being able to be home for dinner when you made it. Sometimes he would call you and ask you to hold off making dinner till he got home, just so he could make it with you. You always would. Those evenings the two of you would spend in the kitchen making dinner with each other, he would wrap his arms around your waist, pressing his chest against your back as he leant down to rest his chin on your forehead. You’d sway softly together to whatever music you had been playing quietly in the background while he mumbled gently whispers of love into your ear.

On the mornings you didn’t have to work as early, you’d sleep in, Spencer would wake up earlier those days to spend the morning with you before he had to leave for work. He would pull you closer so you were basically laying on his chest, he would pepper your face with kisses as you let out a string of sweet laugher that made his chest swell. It was the same routine, he would lean in for a kiss, you’d complain about morning breath and then kiss him anyways before you brushed your teeth together making sweet jokes. 

The sweet evenings and giddy mornings made those nights and mornings you didn’t get to properly spend time together a little easier to cope with.

The idea came to you one night while you were cleaning up before bed. Spencer had called you a few hours ago to let you know that he was going to be there a little later. He always lets you know. He didn’t want to leave you hanging, and he never did. You understood the demands of his job, you’d never blame him for that. You two were handling the difficulties the best you could. However as you cleaned the kitchen your mind drifted. 

Moments later you were digging through the drawers in his home office, pulling out a pile of dulled out pink post it notes (ones he had started using rather than yellow ones because you said you liked them.) You grabbed a pen from the collection he had laid out, neatly organised on the side of his desk, and wrote a soft ‘I love you’ on the top note, before pulling it away from the rest of the collection, placing the rest back in his draw and putting his pen back, exactly how it was, before you stood and paddered through the house.

You stuck it to the door where you knew he would see it. You didn’t have to worry about him missing it. Spencer spent time making sure the doors and windows were locked, not only because he knew the dangers of otherwise, but he had taken that small routine so much more seriously since you had moved in. You knew he would notice it. That's all you wanted. Sure, you could’ve just sent it as a text, but chances are Spencer would see it as soon as you sent it. That wasn’t what you wanted. The nights you weren’t up to see him when he got home, you weren’t able to mumble the soft reminder to him before you fell asleep, give him any sort of affection later in the night. It was a small thing, but you hoped he found it sweet.

The next morning you woke up tangled in Spencer’s arms. He was fast asleep, eyebrows furrowed in comfort, lips slightly parted as soft breaths left his lips. Your heart pulled as you untangled yourself from his arms and left the bed. You watched for a moment as his brows furrowed further, arms reaching out for your body in his sleep and your stomach flipped. That moment you looked away, knowing if you didn’t you would end up back in his arms and not at work. You moved around the room quietly, getting yourself ready trying your best not to wake him. 

“Come back” You heard his voice and your head spun to see he had shifted to sit up a little bit more, watching as you moved around the room. His eyes were lidded with sleep and he was clearly unimpressed by your absence. This was why you tried to be so quiet in the mornings. He had said numerous times you could wake him up before you left, but then the one time you did, it ended in you both calling in sick to work and staying in bed for way too many hours.

“Good morning” You replied as you pulled on your jacket before you walked over to him. Not giving into his request despite how much you wanted to. You hand reached out to brush strands of messy hair away from his forehead, then getting distracted and running your hand gently through the soft strands of hair. His hand caught your wrist softly, pulling your hand to interlace his fingers with yours before he pressed his lips against your knuckles softly, your chest warmed.

“Hi angel,” he mumbled back, looking up at you. His hand gently tugged on yours trying to silently plead you back into his arms. It took a lot of self control not to give in and bury yourself into the place next to him, forget about work and any responsibilities and lose to him.

But you had a moment, and if Spencer was awake, you would spend it with him.

“How was work?” You asked, a lot of the time the question came the day after. Not hearing about his day immediately didn’t make you any less interested in hearing about it. You allowed yourself to shuffle closer to him, your forearm resting gently against his chest as he continued to press his lips against your knuckles softly.

He huffed out a warm breath of air against the skin of your fingers, “Fine, I missed you” he said gently. You were sure every time he said something your heart doubled in size, because although you had heard the words from him maybe a million times, it didn’t change how sweet he sounded saying them. The rest of the time you had before needing to leave for work was a mix between getting ready, and trying to deny Spencer’s soft plea’s for you to stay just a few minutes more before he finally gave in to letting you leave for the day, not without a few soft kisses to your lips, and your loving complaint about morning breath.

When you left the bedroom, ready, you made your way to the kitchen to make coffee like every other morning. You and Spencer liked two different types of coffee beans, he always made sure to keep them both stocked. You got the travel cup ready before making your way over to the pantry to get out your coffee beans, your heart swelled almost painfully at the sight when you opened the door.

The post it note you had stuck to the door, was placed on your bag of coffee beans. You had almost forgotten about it, but with the silent acknowledgement that he had seen it, you couldn’t help the smile on your face. The fact he could have just smiled and binned it, but instead moved it to a place he knew you would see it, like you had for him. It was the silent act of love and affection that made the nights and mornings you didn’t get to spend time together so much easier.

When you got home, before you went to bed you moved the post it note to his desk in his home office, when you woke up to leave for work, he had moved it to your work bag. From that point on it became a silent game between the two of you. Neither of you vocally acknowledged it, you didn’t need to. Each night before you went to bed you would move it for him to find when he got home, each morning you would find it in a new place. It became something you looked forward to everyday, finding out where he had placed it.

It had been a year since it started, the same post it note was used every time, the same one that you had placed on the door the first time. You both kept up with it, there wasn’t a single day either of you skipped moving it around, even the days you had off, or the days Spencer finished early. Whoever woke up first would move it, and whoever went to bed last would move it again. 

You were wrapped in Spencer’s arms, one of the nights he was able to finish early. You were pretty sure he had already moved the post it note since he had pressed kisses against your forehead before telling you to stay in bed, before he left the room for a few minutes, then returned with a giddy smile.

He was half asleep when he murmured out your name, your head resting on his chest as his arms remained tightly wrapped around you. You had let out a soft hum in response, the tiredness affecting you just as much as him. He had leant down and nuzzled his face into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo before pressing a soft kiss against the top of your head.

“When I propose, I'm gonna do it with a thousand post it notes” He spoke so gently, voice laced with sleep. Your breath hitched slightly even in the tired state, your mind fogged and your chest aches – in the best way at the mention of him proposing. The vocal mention of the game you two had been playing for the last year of your relationship, the fact the silent ache was so insanely important to him, just like it was to you.

“Yeah?” you whispered back. You felt him nod into your hair as his fingers came to slowly brush through the strands.

“Mhm, Then I wanna be buried with the original.”

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 28/09✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: I am going to ask you to make a difficult decision… freenoodles or Shadowpeach

(Freenoodles, in my opinion, is just barely better than shadowpeach. Just because of how gay they are in season five. I mean, look at them and tell me they aren’t married.)

Sooo I go with shadowpeach. Freenoodle is like my comfort shit. so many cute and funny shenanigans, for me they are just the married couple who would probably have the healtiest of the relationship. They have teh experience, they went already throught all the "obliviouss-ness" and the "what if they don't love me" yadda yadda.

But Shadowpeach. Ow man. I thought the ineffable housband ship was complex. but god. oh god. how wrong I was. like- these two went from friends, to brothers, to lovers, to enemies, to friends again and to be lover again. They fucked up so much nothing will ever be the same. But they still weak for each other. They are at each other throat and also they know the other in the most intimate way. they are immortal. One of them fucking killed the other. They thought the other left them and betrayed and went both drama to forget (one choose found family, the other murder but anyway-)

Like- WHAT SHIP CAN BE MORE COMPLEX THAN THIS?????

Anonimo ha chiesto: Does MK have a favorite between his bio parents

oUH NO POOR MONKEYS. He doesn't, but he has a favourite depending on the context. Like, for training he prefers Macaque because he explains a lot better than Wukong, but sparring with Wukong is much funnier, but he prefers Macaque scratches and grooming, but he loves Wukong squeezing hugs, etc...

Anonimo ha chiesto: You know, I just realized something. So you know how people in the fandom give Macaque lotus nicknames since his ears kind of resemble lotus flowers. Well since MK has both Wukong and Macaque's ears that kind of makes MK's ears resemble Peace Lilies (which is kind of ironic since MK is the Harbinger of Chaos)

Aww I guess they do look like them!

Anonimo ha chiesto: I may sound a little to mean but Mk din't suspect a thing aout macaques eye? he has multiple forms were his eye is a cross i mean, i would think smt happend to that eye but that just me uu I LOVE UR ART IT MAKES ME WANT TO KMS /POS

He surely suspected something happened to Mac eye but he didn't know how that happened.

@queen-of-purple-roses ha chiesto: I have a question and you don’t have to answer it if you don’t have too; since we’ve seen Macaque feel guilty with how he treated MK in the past, does Monkey King feel guilty about all the dangerous moments that MK was put in, since most if not all of the fighting ends up on MK’s plate and not Wukong’s.

Oh absolutely, the more time passes he feels more and more guilty.

@catbox730 ha chiesto: Can we get more MK and Red Son please

mayyyyyybe. If you guys behave

Anonimo ha chiesto: It would be funny seeing MK‘s dads going to a doctor with him for like getting his wisdom teeth removed or something xD

The parents being extremely worried that something will go wrong while MK is super chill. When the dentist comes out of the operating room they grab him and ask him if he survived while MK is just eating ice cream post-surgery.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will MK ever fight against one of his parents in a serious battle ? Or be forced to fight one of them ?

mmm. Probably. Maybe in the future they have a discussion. Nothing maybe too serious. But not in the AU plans.

What is Wukongs and/or Macaques biggest nightmare(s) I imagine it would be something like seeing MK die or sacrificing himself again or something like that

I think Wukong is more terrified of being alone. So actually I think it would be worse for him that MK doesn't want to see him anymore.

Anonimo ha chiesto: so who is going to be MK‘s hero that he worships ? I don’t know if he still sees Monkey king in that way after finding out that he is basically his dad and hearing the past the fight with Macaque….

Maybe he wont have any hero. Maybe worshipping someone is not such a healthy thing to do. ( I'm not talking in a religious way of course, I meant worshipping a living normal person)

@emmais333 ha chiesto: Love your MK art. One question how many fights from Wukong and Mac does MK overhear on accident

He heard the first one (and the past one through the vision) then Wkong and Mac started to teleport far away enough so he wont be able to hear them discuss.

Anonimo ha chiesto: What if MK catches Mac and Wukong in the act, not visually, but audibly, like hearing it when going to flower feuit mountain, finding the monkeys in a pile, all traumatized. Or is it too soon? Do they get drunk enough to not care? Do they even drink?

in the....act? (sorry I don't understand stuff if it's not explicited said, like I can't understand double meanings if that was what you meant)

Anonimo ha chiesto: I LOVE YOUR STORY, REALLY!!!! I reread a lot. So lovely. And the Baby MK, I just want to hug so badly 🥺 ( I think Macaque become Protecting mode and he won't let me do it. ) You draw Baby MK so so so cute. My heart can't handle it.❤️ Maybe it's a terrifying idea but I would like know your thoughts. I think that Macaque sleeps very quietly, like a man in a coffin.  + Macaque fell into a very deep DEEP sleep. (maybe because he was tired from fighting demons to protect Baby MK or get injured or something?) = How do you think Sun Wokung will react?

o my god NO DON'T GIVE HIM AN HEARTH ATTACK (heloses one of their immortalities for having the most horrrendous of jumpscares)

@raspberrymixin ha chiesto: AHHH I LOVE YOU SHADOW PEACH BIO AU OMG ITS TO FREAKEN CUTEEEE AAHH I just melt into a puddle! Love you art and make sure to take breaks- anyway- I find it cute how redson interacts with MK I can just imagine him giving him stuff and little gifts and Mk just confused on why but takes it anyway because of friendship and maybe a sign he's trusting more- but MK is just oblivious to the courting- And maybe redson would ask Wukong, Macaque, Tang or pigsy to allow it maybe? And I also love the slow burn! It's just cute on how Macaque and Wukong make each other blush! Awww it's just to cute! I hope you're doing amazing and have a good night/day

Oh man MK would not be able to read a single clue and just think it's a symbol of friendship or wathever. O my god he really did take from his parents (all of them)

fayeangel25 ha chiesto: YOUUU UFUFFHH WHEN I GET YOUUUUU anyways, I wanna see wukong asking macaque about the story of him and mac ( after mamacaque storytelled his lil baby mk ) , cuz i wanna see more flustered macaque!!! Also, 👏 EATING 👏 THIS 👏 AU 👏 UP!!

Hehe he would be a little shy about it. But Macaque is a theater kid so for a bigger audience I guess he would do it.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I feel like I’m new here. What is Court napping?

Consensual Kidnapping with the intend of flirting with another demon.

Anonimo ha chiesto: How many people want to court MK now that he is a real stone monkey AND the son of Wukong and Macaque ?

mmm. Only people close to MK knows that he's the bio kid of shadowpeach. So for now only Red Son

Anonimo ha chiesto: I bet PIF would try to wait for MK to lose the good guy ‘phase’ since she went through that before lmao (forget being good, convert to villainy in the name of love)

Awwww she would!!! But MK is just too good hearted to hurt a fly. (yeah I know he technically has a kill count still-)

Anonimo ha chiesto: MK would obviously call Pigsy "Papa" so what would MK call Tang and Sandy?

I think he would actually call Pigsy "dad" since it's what he calls him that in the show. Maybe it's Tang that gets to be called Papa. I think Sandy is more like an uncle.

@mage-of-words ha chiesto: When will Wukong purpose to Macaque?

WOW- HOLD ON THERE. LET HIM TAKE HIM TO DINNER FIRST.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Omg I wonder if Macaque and Monkey King ever saw MK get really hurt during a battle with a new demon. RIP the Demon bc two feral Monkeys are after them now bc they hurt their kid.

Them to said demon: So you have choosen.... death.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hear me out, Mac and Wukong in a get along shirt for a day (lost a bet to MK and he planned this too) LOVE YOUR ART TOO ITS SO SCRUMDIDDLYUMPTIOUCIOUS

this is an old ask, sorry for taking so long to answer. But I would say that at this point of the story Wukong would probably be at cloud 9 being squished to super soft macaque all day. Macaque would be like a kitten undecided on wheter he loves or hate the situation (doesn't really likes un-warned physical touch.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hoi there, I found you again! (Following you on Insta as well because your art is awesome ^^)

Reading your LMK ShadowPeaches comics and they are fun. And now my brain can't help but make up scenarios, one like this one. Oh my, MK is a cute little baby! (^///^) Oh my, MK is a little baby!! ('O_O) Welp, Pigsy is going to kill someone unless Wukong gives baby MK into his arms to calm down and be busy being a dad than a raging Hulk. (:P) Also, I imagine MK accidentally shrinking himself, (Wukong decided to play hide and seek with it only to later on regret it). Wukong would freaking out about it, and Macaque then shook him violently while yelling into his face for losing MK. Then out of Nowhere, Nezha shows up at the door frame and be like 'Um, hey guys. Is this yours?' Points at his nose where tiny baby bean MK was, clinging onto Nezha's nose while giggling.

askjajvbks that's a lovely scene! Unfortunately Nehza can't know yet about MK, but maybe he will...

@lara-legomonkiekid 💜:Hey! I'm here to ask permission!Can I make an art Drawing of your Bio parents AU Meeting One of my AU's?Please?(Mostly Suposed to be Meeting One of my OC's!) (Love Your Art and Comics!!!!)(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Yeah sure! just be sure to tag me and link the masterpost of the AU

Anonimo ha chiesto: I find it funny how your shadowpeach bio au came from a joke and now.....wow Your art is amazing

My friend even tried to warn me. BUT I DIDN'T LISTEN

Anonimo ha chiesto: I need Freenoodles talking late at night about MK's new situation Will they be worried? Happy? I don't think Pigsy will take it very well that just when he and MK accepted each other as Father and Son, he is (partly) taken away by his biological dads.

Pigsy was mostly worried that Wukong or Macaque would hurt in any way MK. Both ahim and Tang after they saw how much the 2 care about MK calmed down, still they just hope they don't mess up things.

Anonimo ha chiesto: parenting it not just about having fun with your children, but also making sure there are boundaries even if the child isn’t happy about it. So, how would it go if Macaque and Wukong would try to ground MK 😂

MK is a little old for being grounded I think but if they were to do it maybe with something like no training for a week or smt. He's still an adult (i know we sometimes forget)

Anonimo ha chiesto: MK trying to prank his parents and wake them up with a loud instrument or sound. MK forgetting he has sensitive hearing 💀

reverso uno card

Anonimo ha chiesto: Would wukong or MK help macaque in his drawings if he asked 🙃 or if they tried to help him improve

Awww they would!!! Actually what if this creative side of him was something he kind of inherted from Wukong?

[fastandcarlos]

Dating A-Z Headcanon : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

A ⇴ AFFECTION 

Oscar isn’t overly affectionate, but he does like to have you close. Quite often he can be found holding onto your hand or to your waist to make sure that you’re by his side and where he can make sure that you’re safe. 

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING 

You first met when you were in school, having been paired together for a project. At the start of it you were both too terrified to even say anything to each other, but as you got to know each other more you found yourselves increasingly comfortable around one another, so much so that you even managed to come top of your class for your presentation together. 

C ⇴ CONFESSION 

When his career began to take off, Oscar knew that he couldn’t deny his feelings for you any longer. As he spent less time at home, and with you, he decided to tell you how he felt so you knew that he was thinking of you even when he wasn’t with you. One night before he went away for a race Oscar decided to tell you everything, opening up to you about exactly how happy you made him feel. 

D ⇴ DATES 

Most of the time your dates were quite private, Oscar wasn’t exactly the flashy type, especially when there were plenty of people around. He liked to keep your dates quite simple, usually you would go out for a nice meal or Oscar would arrange for you to do something at home together. He promised whenever he was home that he would organise at least one date for you both before he had to go away again so that he could make sure that you got to spend some quality time together and make some new memories. 

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE 

You were the only ever person that Oscar had dated, and so he quite often felt like he was learning on the job. You and Oscar knew each other incredibly well and so Oscar didn’t really tend to worry that he was doing the wrong thing. At times he would ask other people around him for some tips and advice when he wasn’t sure if he was doing the right thing, but you and Oscar were close and so if he felt as if he was doing something wrong, usually he’d open up to you and learn about what it was that you wanted from him instead. 

F ⇴ FIGHTING 

An argument between you guys is rare, you’ve got a good understanding of each other and know when to stop before things run away. Neither of you were particularly loud or argumentative at the best of times and so it was a pretty rare thing to happen. When an argument did happen, Oscar would get pretty cut up about it, he hated the idea that he had upset you and would work hard to make things up to you, particularly if he knew that he was the one at fault for your argument. 

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY 

His family absolutely adored you; you were a tad nervous to meet his family, particularly with his three younger siblings, but they absolutely adored you. Above all else, you loved making fun of him with his mum, particularly on social media where all of Oscar’s fans could get behind the two of you as well. 

H ⇴ HOME 

Wherever Oscar went, you went, when it came to home. When he originally considered moving out to Monaco he spoke to you about it a lot, wanting to make sure that it was something you wanted to do as well. When you gave him the greenlight, Oscar started to look at making the move, relieved to know you’d be going together. 

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU” 

He was the first one to say those three words after a race win. It was one that Oscar had fought particularly hard for and found himself overwhelmed at the end of it. As adrenaline ran through his body, the moment Oscar reunited with you those words came tumbling out before he even had a chance to realise what he was saying to you. 

J ⇴ JEALOUSY 

It was quite rare for Oscar to get jealous; he was pretty relaxed and chill about most things and trusted you more than he trusted anyone. If he ever did get jealous, then Oscar would get a little bit more protective around you, he’d stand a little closer and make sure that he was listening to what people were saying to you. He’d never admit it, but you could tell from the look in his eyes sometimes that Oscar was feeling a little envious. 

K ⇴ KIDS 

Having a family was something that you both knew was quite a way off, but that didn’t stop you from talking about it from time to time. Oscar especially knew that you were the person that he was going to settle down with and spend his future with, although he still had plenty that he wanted to achieve when it came to his career before he even started thinking about all those other things in life. 

L ⇴ LAUGHTER 

If there was one sound that Oscar never got bored of hearing, it was definitely your laughter. His deadpan sense of humour could leave you in stitches sometimes with how nonchalant Oscar was about things. He didn’t even mean to make you laugh most of the time, but with his dry jokes and blunt comments you couldn’t help but chuckle around him. Oscar loved knowing that he was the reason for the smile on your face, even if he didn’t realise that he was the reason for it sometimes. 

M ⇴ MISSING 

He tried his best to hide it well, he didn’t like upsetting you by telling you just how much he missed you. But Oscar did miss you. Terribly. He was a different person in the paddock when you weren’t around, he was quieter than usual and would be a bit more distant in meetings, something that Lando picked up on quite a lot during their race weekends together.  He was constantly wishing that you were there with him, checking his phone all the time to see if he had a text or a missed call from you.  

N ⇴ NICKNAMES 

He didn’t have one particular nickname for you, Oscar would just call you whatever came to mind, usually choosing a nickname that he knew would annoy you as he loved being able to wind you up. 

O ⇴ OBSESSION 

Oscar was obsessed with your smile, it made him feel like he was home. His heart raced whenever he saw your wide grin, knowing you were happy was the most important thing to him. 

P ⇴ PDA 

The two of you weren’t huge on PDA, however everyone knew that the two of you were together from the little gestures that you shared. Oscar tended to hold your hand and keep you by his side, particularly when you were entering a busy area, wanting to keep you by his side and out of harm. 

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS 

He asked you for your advice on just about anything, Oscar would ask you for help whenever something was playing on his mind, knowing that you usually had the right answer to help him out. 

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS 

One thing that no one knew about Oscar was that in the bottom of his race car he had a picture of you. It was positioned so that no one else could see it aside from him, but when he needed a bit of a boost or to see a reminder of you, Oscar would glance down at it. He’d made sure to pick one of his favourite photos of you so that he could remember why he raced, particularly when he was missing you. 

S ⇴ SEX 

He liked to take control when it came to sex, Oscar wasn’t particularly rough, but he was the more dominant out of the two of you. It meant a lot to Oscar, he made sure that each time was special and filled with a lot of love. He quite liked being able to show you how much he loved you, words weren’t particularly a strong skill of Oscar’s and so he loved being able to show you with actions instead. 

T ⇴ TEXTS 

Whenever he could Oscar would text you, especially when he wasn’t at home. He loved receiving your updates and hearing from you, mostly so that he knew that you were safe without him around. 

U ⇴ UNIVERSE 

He didn’t like to make it too well known, but Oscar’s little bubble knew exactly just how much you meant to him, you were his priority and by far the most important person in his life. 

V ⇴ VACATION 

Whenever he had a bit of time Oscar loved to arrange trips for the two of you so that you could escape for a while. Adventuring with you was by far one of Oscar’s favourite things to do, although he saw much of the world, there were always more hidden gems around for you to see too. 

W ⇴ WHINING 

Although he wasn’t particularly needy, when Oscar wanted your attention, he would kick up quite the fuss to make sure that you knew all about it. 

X ⇴ XXXXX 

He loved kissing you when you least expected it, creeping up on you and pressing a kiss to your cheek or against the top of your head. He wasn’t the biggest kisser in the world and so Oscar knew that when he did kiss you it would usually come as a surprise. He didn’t like to just kiss you, he loved kissing you with sentiment and love, knowing that his kisses would often leave you feeling nervous with adrenaline. 

Y ⇴ YOU 

You were his team mate, the two of you were the perfect duo together. 

Z ⇴ ZZZ 

When he falls asleep, Oscar loves to hold onto you. His grip is as tight as possible wanting to keep you warm and make sure that you’re right by his side and not going anywhere. 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[is-this-yuri]

I'm so sorry to continue asking for help this way, but I'm seriously stuck.

ko-fi

to summarize my situation:

I'm living in a small car. I've been living this way for 10 years, with stints of couch surfing. I'm trying to get a van so I can outfit it with all the essentials of a home, which will allow me to live comfortably and cheaply and improve my life significantly. There is no way I'm going to afford an apartment or house, I've been trying for 10 years, all I want at this point is a van.

The fundraiser has been successful to the point where I can currently afford a van and want to start shopping. This is fantastic, since I really need to get out of my car before winter hits so I can insulate the walls of the van and be safe. I've spent winters in this car, and I do not believe it would be healthy for me to attempt again. Before I can purchase a van, I need a license first.

I'm currently facing a legal issue regarding my license. Over the past 4 years I've been unemployed and unable to renew my license and registration, or afford insurance. I've accrued about $2,100 of citations that I must pay before I can get a license. Keep in mind that I've been mainly living in my car, and while I've tried shelters and transitional housing programs, they have not helped me.

I wish I'd taken care of this sooner, but I've been living minimally to save as much money as possible while still affording my daily basic needs, and I've only recently had success fundraising online in general. It took me almost 4 months to save the ~$2,500 I currently have from the fundraiser, $1,800 of which is in my savings account. If I spend it now on legal fees, I'll be out of luck for winter and won't be able to afford the rest of my plan to escape the homelessness that has caused this issue in the first place.

Over the past week I've been in contact with the court, local community services, the DMV, and even my senator to see if there's some way to waive these fees or transfer a title to my name without a license so I can be safe this winter. They've all suggested going to a shelter, getting a job, and earning the money that way. All while somehow not getting pulled over again since I'd have no other way to get around but driving my illegal car without a license.

If I get pulled over again, there's a chance my shelter will be impounded and I'll be in an even worse situation. Insuring and registering this car is not a possibility while I'm living in it, as I'll still be ticketed and so will the licensed driver I'll have to put on my insurance plan to get the car insured, if I could even find someone willing to do that. I NEED a license.

Community services CAN NOT pay court fees. The DMV CAN NOT proceed with a title transfer as long as my license is suspended. The court CAN NOT waive or dismiss these fees. I MUST pay the court $2,100 and get out of my car to continue living my life safely.

HOW AM I EXPECTED TO COMPLETE THIS TASK?

My options are to pay the whole amount immediately, or get on two seperate payment plans (one for each courthouse I owe), one of which will last a year and require a down payment of $150, the other at least two years and a down payment of $200.

I desperately need your help.

Please consider donating to my Ko-fi. I've set a goal for the total amount I owe. Since I have the money for the down payments, I'll start the payment plans and pray that my ko-fi funds will replace the money as it goes. I'll make larger payments as long as the ko-fi funds exceed the $100/mo I need to continue paying for this. AS LONG AS I'M ON THE PAYMENT PLANS, MY LICENSE WILL NO LONGER BE SUSPENDED AND I CAN CONTINUE IMPROVING MY LIFE.

I have a seperate issue being that the DMV's driving tests for licenses are booked up until spring, which means even if this legal issue went away right now, I'd still have to live through the winter to be able to get a van, but there are more open solutions to that problem. Right now, my main concern is these citations draining all the money I was going to use to survive the winter.

[cressidagrey]

Stars all aligned - Chapter 2

Summary:

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

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

Warning:

Bashing of like...every IC member? I think Rhys gets the worst though, kinda depression?, isolation, Cassian is an idiot, slut-shaming?, discussion of SA

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

Azriel kept showing up. 

And Zahra kept letting him in. 

She had no fucking clue what possessed her. 

And yet every time Azriel showed up at her doorstep…she let him in without protest. 

He always brought food or he cooked. Always something to eat. And he always stayed until she had consumed an entire serving in front of her. 

She should tell him to stop. She should tell him to leave her alone.

But Zahra never said a word. 

Zahra couldn’t manage that. 

It wasn’t like she had had many private conversations with Azriel before. And she did get t to see a side of him that…she never seen before. The kind, gentle side with a biting sense of humour. She could be as bitter and cutting with him as she wanted to be and he gave back just as sharply…but it never got personal. They never hurt each other.

And she got to know him. Not the spymaster, not Rhysand’s most trusted spy….but Azriel. The male. Not the Illyrian warrior, not the fae…but just him. as a person. Azriel who loved good food and good books. Azriel who smiled and who was gentle and kind…and coaxed mice back outside with never-ending patience. 

It was strange, how easy it was to talk to him. How easy and relaxed it felt to spend time with him. How natural it was that he was there. 

As if it had always been the two of them cooking together. 

She shouldn’t get too used to it. It wasn’t going to last. Zahra knew it wouldn’t. But she allowed herself to bask in it. Just for a little bit longer. 

Bask in the feeling of…having at least one person in this new life that…dare she say it? Was like a friend to her.

A friend. When was the last time she had had one of those? 

She didn’t want to think about that.

Just like she didn’t want to think about it, when Azriel started showing up earlier, reports in hand and joined her in working at the rickety old kitchen table.

Zahra worked on the ledgers, sorting through the numbers. And he sat right across from her, reading through his reports, quietly sipping his tea. 

(He had brought better tea with him.)

Zahra had thought that he would annoy her… but they were utterly content with ignoring each other for hours at a time. No need for words or unnecessary conversation. Just the comfortable silence of each other’s presence. It was oddly…pleasant. 

And somehow his presence…it lit something inside her. When she dropped off the account ledgers the next time, she made a quick detour to a cheap antique store just a few doors down.

Zahra browsed through the shelves on the inside. 

It was a tiny shop, filled up to the brim with old stuff and odd trinkets from the past. And then she found something that made her pause. 

An absolutely ugly, oversized armchair with the most horrible plaid pattern…but it looked like it was made for wings. The one chair in her kitchen worked for Azriel because the back was narrow enough to slot through the middle of his wings, while the one she preferred wouldn’t have worked in a million years…but the couch she had…that was another story. No way that couch was comfortable for him. 

But this armchair….

It was perfect, if you were willing to overlook the absolutely hideous pattern. But Zahra kind of grew to like it with each second that passed. So she pulled on her best haggling skills and bought that monstrosity. 

And then Zahra had the seething hot realisation that she needed to get it home somehow. She felt a tug at the hem of her skirt and stared down to find a tendril of shadows tugging at her.

One of Azriel’s. She just knew it.

The same shadows that liked prowling through her rooms and pruning the sad basil plant on her windowsill… She was also quite sure that they had started to oil the hinges on her door, but she hadn’t yet caught them in the act.

“You don’t to be able to bring that home for me, do you?” She asked them drily. The shadows coiled in a way that made her assume that they were laughing at her. Or at least having fun. It was honestly hard to tell. But another tendril popped into existence as if to say ‚Yes, I can do that!‘ 

A moment later, the chair had disappeared.

Zahra just hoped it actually had been Azriel’s shadows and not another bunch that liked stealing stuff. The thought that she had just given a chair away to some random shadows for free was a slightly concerning one. Oh well. Hopefully, it would arrive at her house soon enough and not at some random place. She had just paid for a pretty decent sum of money for that monstrosity after all. 

She bought other stuff too. Like actual spices, so Azriel wouldn't need to keep bringing all of that with him every time...another couple of plates...A blanket for the living room...

She didn’t even know what possessed her to do that. It was like something inside of her just…woke back up again. She had been dead in more ways than one. But Azriel was slowly coaxing her back to life. 

She felt more alive than she’d done in a long time. She could actually feel her heart beating. Her blood rushing in her veins. She could…feel again. And it was such an odd sensation. 

To her surprise, the armchair stood in the middle of her living room when Zahra arrived home.

A little shadow wrapped itself around her wrist as she gaped at the monstrosity sitting in her living room. The shadow seemed proud of itself.

"Thank you," Zara said politely and the shadow ruffled up as it preened. It was honestly kind of cute. And it was odd to see it like this. A small little bit of…personality. So different from what she’d always thought the shadows would be like. 

Then the shadow disappeared again and she was left with…the armchair. Which was now placed right in the middle of her living room.

Damn it. She forgot about how absolutely ugly it was. 

But oh well. It fit right in with some of the flaking of paint in the rest of her house...and the rotting floorboards in one corner.

At least that armchair was comfortable. She had to admit it. There was something oddly charming about that ugly old chair. 

She sighed, ignoring the chair for the moment as she organised her spices in the kitchen and then went back to work.

Azriel showed up in the evening that day, blinking twice at the chair.

“Where’d you get that eyesore?” he simply asked in greeting. 

"Antique shop," Zahra gave back drily. "And I bought it for your wings, thank you very much."

That made him blink in surprise. "For my wings?" he echoed and his eyebrows shot up.  "You bought an armchair for me?" 

There was something about the absolute surprise in his voice that made her want to laugh. "Yes, I did, Shadowsinger," she confirmed. "And just for you, I will ignore that horrendous plaid pattern that is covering every inch of that hideous thing." 

His lips curved into a smile, something like fond amusement playing in his eyes. "What a kind thing of you," he returned with equal amounts of dryness. "To give me such a wonderful eyesore to keep my wings company." 

He dropped down into the chair and she had to admit that it was perfect for his wings. They slotted through the gap in the back and seat without problem and he looked like he melted into the cushions. 

"It may be the ugliest thing I have ever seen, but it is the most comfortable too," he admitted with a sigh.

A small smirk edged up her lips. "I know," she simply said. "So you are stuck with it now. Consider it as a present for all the food that you give me." 

He snorted in amusement.

His head dropped back and he looked up at her, his hazel eyes glinting in the dim light. His wings were flared all over the back of that chair and she couldn’t help but notice how damn huge they were. 

He was big. She knew he was, of course, but it was easy to forget when she saw him next to Cassian. But Azriel was broad and muscular all on his own…and his wings flared all over her living room really emphasised it. 

And for some damn reason, she had the sudden mental image of his wings wrapped around her. The thought was absolutely ludicrous and completely inappropriate. 

She firmly squashed the mental image and instead just focused on the fact that Azriel was still looking at her through half-lidded eyes. There was an amused, almost fond smirk on his lips. 

"Where do I get paint from?" she blurted out.

That made his eyebrows raise. "Paint? Why do you need paint?" he inquired as he sat forward and his wings folded back against his body. 

"I should probably do something against the flaking-off paint around here," she admitted with a shrug.

He pursed his lips in thought. “And I assume you’ll try to do this all by yourself.” That wasn’t a question. He sounded pretty damn certain what her answer would be. 

"Have you talked to your landlord?" he asked her. "Are you allowed to do that? I mean, whoever it is is probably going to be happy that you do something...to stop this whole house from falling apart, but still.” 

She rolled her eyes at him. "You know, this house is mine," she gave back drily. "I can do whatever I want with it."

Azriel’s brows shot up at that, an amused surprise in his eyes. “You own this place?” he echoed, clearly not having expected that. 

"I won it in a game of cards," she admitted drily. "The guy I won it from inherited it and wanted to get rid of it. Nobody wants it because it's out of the way, but I like it."

Her one and only time in a tavern had left her with the house. She should probably consider that beginner’s luck. 

“You won it in a game of cards…?” he repeated again, a note of genuine surprise in his voice. “Are you joking?” 

Her lips curled into a smirk. “Nope,” she said with great amusement. “Nine men's morris to be exact. The idiot lost it fair and square.” 

He was looking at her in a sort of disbelief, yet there was something like respect in his eyes. “Remind me never to play cards with you,” he said drily. 

She just shrugged. "It was just once," Zahra said with a sigh. "I went to one of the taverns...decided to get utterly wasted," she snorted. "I don't think becoming an alcoholic is for me, because I spent 3 days afterwards throwing up."

“The hangover must’ve been brutal,” Azriel commented dryly. "So you won a house in a game of cards."

She just gave a nod. “Pretty much, as ridiculous as it sounds. I do think it needs some paint though."

Azriel just snorted. "I think it needs more than paint," he said drily. "It probably needs to be demolished and built up again."

“It’s not that bad,” she protested, but even to her, that sounded weak. The place was a dump. It was a literal dump. "It has character," Zahra said, her resolve growing. "Just because it's a little broken, doesn't make it garbage," she whispered.

There was something sad in her voice and Azriel just looked at her, a certain quiet understanding in his eyes. And she cursed him inwardly, because he saw too much. 

He always saw too much. Saw through her defences and the walls that she’d built up. 

"You are right," he agreed. "It's a little bit broken. But I am sure can be fixed."

A sharp pang flared up in her chest at his words, as if that gentle acceptance and quiet understanding from him hurt. She pushed it down, refusing to examine the feeling too closely. 

"And there a few different shops in Velaris that sell...paint...and other...things to...improve a house."

"You mean to stop it from falling down onto my head?" she asked him wryly

“Exactly,” he responded with an amused smile as he folded his wings again. “And stop the drafty windows from letting in a constant, cold breeze.” 

Damn it…she had been hoping he hadn’t noticed that. But of course, he had, because he was observant. Far too observant. 

“And you know, maybe put in a proper lock at the door,” he continued drily. “And fix the leaking tap in the bathroom…”

Zahra rolled her eyes at that. “I like that dripping sound, it’s very melodic,” she said with sarcasm drizzling from her voice. 

It made him chuckle lowly. The shadows around him rippled and coiled in response to their master’s amusement.  “You have a strange concept of melodious sound, if you find dripping water to be in any way pleasing,” he told her drily. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, should I be swooning over the sound of a harp or the violin?” she rebutted with a sharp little snort. 

“Not necessarily,” Azriel replied with an amused smirk. “Any other sound would be better than that constant drip…Though I have been known to enjoy the symphony on occasion," he admitted to her. "Or even some of the taverns."

A snort of laughter left her lips at that, despite herself. “I can’t imagine you in a tavern,” she told him honestly. 

He shot her a dry look at that. “Why not?” he asked, raising a single eyebrow at her. 

“It just doesn’t fit,” she gave back bluntly. “You in your leathers, standing in the middle of rowdy drunks. Just seems so odd.” 

He rolled his eyes at that. “I know how to dress down,” he rebuked her drily. “And I also know how to blend in.” 

“You’d stick out like a sore thumb, even if you wore absolutely normal clothes,” she retorted. “Your muscles betray you, Shadowsinger.” 

He huffed at that and then leaned back into the armchair, arms folded. “Now you’re just being insulting,” he groused and she snorted. 

“Oh, did your ego get bruised, Shadowsinger? How terrible,” Zahra dead-panned, making him roll his eyes again. 

"Let's just see if I bother making dessert, for you if you continue that," he groused at her. "I got all the makings of caramel pudding."

“What?! No, wait.” She leaned forward, something like panic on her face. “You cannot dangle that in front of me and then not give in! I even bought you an armchair!" she told him, making him snort.

“It’s a hideous armchair,” he pointed out with a smirk on his lips. “You really think it’s a gift?” 

“Hey! You agreed that it was comfortable,” she protested. “And you can’t deny that your wings like it too.” 

He snorted as he stood up and walked into her kitchen.

She did get caramel pudding in the end. Of course, she did. Even Azriel wasn’t immune to some good old puppy eyes. 

***

Zahra bought him a chair. He wasn't quite sure what to do with that knowledge. 

The fact that she had thought of him enough to buy one for him…it was something he was still trying to process in his mind. 

With the idea that she had spent her own money not on something to make herself uncomfortable...with the fact that her own bed was a mattress on the floor...but she had made sure that the next major piece of furniture she bought hadn't been a proper bed...but instead an armchair for him.

The fact that she had deliberately put his comfort above her own…yeah, he still didn’t know what to do with that information. 

He also didn't know what to do with the information that he actually...he actually really liked her.

Maybe it had been there since the beginning and he just hadn’t noticed it. But the more time he spent with her, more she made him laugh or argue or just…talk. The more he started to like her and appreciate her company. 

She was quick-witted and smart...and so quick to bloom if anybody paid her any attention. And when it was just the two of them at her house...well, then it was...it was so easy. So comfortable.

He forgot to remember to make sure to not give her any reason to be scared of him because she never was. She didn't even blink twice if he came home with the carcass of a deer slung over his shoulder, only cleaned off the table so that she could help strip it.

She asked questions about what he was doing and genuinely seemed interested. Never judged or looked at him weirdly, because she just seemed to get it. Just took him being the spymaster in stride, because that was who he was. Accepted it almost like she accepted his shadows.

He didn't think he would even need to hide the blood that coated his hands, because Zahra didn't seem to care one way or another.

She didn’t even ask him where he had been during the day or what he did. She just accepted the blood and dirt that came with it. 

And quite frankly…if he did his work at her dining table or locked into his room at the House of Wind…who cared?

That dilapidated cottage at least had better company than his own brooding one.

And it never felt felt he was intruding on Zahra when she used him as free labour for whatever redecorating she was doing that day.

They replaced the floorboards…he helped paint the door…

In fact, he was willingly going to her house every night, like it was the most normal thing in the world to do. It probably wasn’t, but he didn’t care. Every evening, when Azriel was done with his duties, he simply dropped into her house. 

They cooked together. Illyrian recipes that he knew…then some that he didn’t know that he had asked his mother for, who had answered into a sprawling letter…recipes that Zahra knew from her human years…and then he brought a cookbook from the library in the House Of Wind and they did that too.

The one thing the two of them did agree on though, was that no dinner was complete without dessert.

They both had a horrible sweet tooth.

Unspokenly, Zahra was the one who lit the fire of the fireplace and the oven…who put food in the oven and pulled it out again.

Zahra didn’t say a word about it. She just did it.

He didn’t even think about who was doing what if he was being honest. He just enjoyed having a shared dinner and the easy conversations that were taking place. It became as routine as breathing, just being in her house and spending the evening with her. 

He tended to linger too. Kept staying with her. So that he doesn’t need to return to the House of Wind, try and fail to sleep and listen to Cassian’s and Nesta's enthusiastic lovemaking.

That was why he stayed. He really needed to avoid the lovebirds at all costs, because they were…just too damn loud. It would have been funny if it wasn’t so damn annoying. 

“If you want and ruin your back on my couch, be my guest,” Zahra said one evening and he froze, staring at her.

She had gained some weight. It looked good on her. No longer a back of skin and bones as she had been, but her cheeks were fuller, Her clothing filled out more.

His gaze briefly flicked up to the couch and the frown on his face grew. “Honestly, that thing is probably the worst place to sleep,” he muttered. “But…I think I prefer it over listening to my brother and his mate going at it.” 

“Nice,” Zahra said with a snort, seemingly unbothered by the comment. “Seems like they know what it means to respect your need for sleep.”

Azriel snorted at that too. “Not quite,” he retorted with dry amusement. “They just don’t care.” It was the damn truth. Cassian and Nesta didn’t even bother putting up any kind of noise-mutting spell to spare his already poor sleep. 

Still…if he stayed there…” Aren’t you worried that I…” he trailed off.

“What? Ravish me?” Zahra drawled. “You had every chance at it for weeks and you haven’t touched me. So no, not really, Azriel.”

“I simply don't want to overstep my boundaries,” he found himself saying quietly. "I wouldn’t force myself on you," he continued with a quiet severity in his voice. "Not ever." I am not a brute," he added firmly. 

“Oh trust me, I don’t think you're a brute,” Zahra told him dryly. “If you wanted to force yourself on me, then you would have done it weeks ago.” 

He nearly flinched at the matter-of-fact way she said that. 

“I would never do that,” he choked out. 

“You are a good man,” Zara said quietly.

Something in his chest flared at that. A mix of shame and guilt, because he was so far away from being a good man. “I don’t want to give you any reason to fear me,” he said quietly, the words tumbling out of him before he could even stop them. 

Her expression softened at that and he held his breath. His shadows coiled, as if they were holding their inhale as well, waiting for her response. 

“It’s funny…” she began quietly and he had to forcibly keep himself from leaning in. “You have never given me a reason. Never.” He blinked at that, a small sense of surprise flaring up in his chest. 

“I…have never once been scared of you,” she told him bluntly and he stared at her incredulously. Because how could she ever say that? How could anyone not be scared of the spymaster of the Night Court? The male who was rumoured to be the spawn of nightmares and death? 

“Don’t look so surprised,” she deadpanned at the sight of his undoubtedly shocked face. “Honestly, you’re the biggest softie I’ve ever met.” 

“I am not a softie,” he protested with a sharp frown on his face. “I am a literal Shadowsinger. I am anything but soft.” He told her firmly. 

“Sure…” she said with a sarcastic roll of her eyes, clearly not believing a word he said. “You are a terrifying man for sure, Shadowsinger.” He bristled at her cheeky tone. “That’s why you come over here every night and feed me.”

“I-” he paused, not knowing what to rebut with that statement. It was true. He came over every, single night to share dinner with her, to…just spend time with her. 

Zahra just laughed, patting his cheek and then disappeared into her bedroom. “Good Night!”

Azriel let out a long breath and just shook his head at her retreating back. Sometimes he had no idea what to do with her.

But he also couldn’t resist the smile that tugged on his lips and he moved over to the couch, curling up on it and trying to make himself comfortable as much as possible. 

Even when it was a far cry from a massive bed in the House of Wind…it was the best night of sleep he had in ages.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he fell asleep fairly quickly. And even his shadows seemed to rest easy, coiling around his body and the couch like a cocoon. 

And for the first time in a long time, his dreams weren’t plagued by nightmares. 

He was awake before dawn, stocking up the fireplace and moving silently across the cottage so that Zahra could still sleep a few hours.

And then he winnowed to the House of Wind for a quick breakfast. He was out there preparing the training rings before anybody else.

It also meant that the shadows were happily trembling around him.

Which was good, because he still had a question to ask them.

“How high are the chances that you cheated at cards so that Zahra would get that house?” He asked the shadows drily.

There was a tendril of shadows assigned to each family member. Only so that Azriel would know where they were at every given moment. He never asked the shadows for more, he respected everybody’s privacy as well as he could…but…But this hadn’t let him go for weeks.

No answer.

He hadn’t expected one.

“Of course,” he said with a sigh. “You like her.” It wasn’t a question.

We do! The shadows answered brightly. She treats Master well!

His lips curled up into a slight smirk at that. They were right. She did treat him well. She never treated him like an intimidating male…she just treated him like any other person. With respect. With kindness. 

Teasing him.

He chuckled to himself at the memories of her teasing him, the way they bickered as if that was the most usual thing in the world. 

She isn’t scared of us like the other ones, the shadows whispered softly.

It was clear who they meant with that comment. Elain and Mor both. Zahra seemed to find the shadows more fascinating than anything. Talking to them even sometimes. In response, the shadows doted on her. Happy for once not to be ignored and outright feared.

He hummed his agreement at that. She wasn't scared of them…and they were growing quite fond of her. Which…he wasn't quite sure how he felt about that. 

She’s pretty too, Master, the shadows commented quietly.

Azriel paused in his work at those words. Yes, she was pretty. With her tawny skin and dark brown hair…and green eyes….Her skin seemed to bloom with health. The way her body had filled out, her hips gaining more curves, her face getting softer. 

Though it did surprise him that the shadows made that comment. They had never done something similar about any other female…even females he had bedded.

That was certainly a surprise. He had to pause and think about it for a few moments. The shadows had never made any sort of comment like that on another female. On any female in fact. Yet they thought her pretty. That…was a thought he filed away for later. 

She doesn’t have a mate either…she’s free of…romantic entanglements, the shadows continued quietly. If you wanted her….

He froze at that. “Are you trying to convince me to pursue her?” He spoke out loud to the shadows. 

You like her. She would make you happy, the shadows responded. What’s the harm? 

“There is no harm,” he mumbled to them quietly, his fingers curling tighter around the handle of the spear that he was holding. “Nothing except that she would likely not be interested.” 

And he was done with that. Done with being turned down. Done with never being a choice.

If he just stayed her friend…he got to spend time with her…he got to listen to her laughs and giggles. He got to be treated by her with kindness and respect. Why destroy that?

It would be cruel and selfish to ruin the friendship he had gained by trying to turn that into anything else. She trusted him. She treated him like a person. And he wanted to keep it like that. 

And Zahra deserved better than him still being half hung up over Elain. Her sister.

Though to be quite honest…he had let that go. Elain had chosen Lucien and that was that. Azriel was more pissed off about how Rhysand was treating him than anything.

Though he never showed it, he was quietly furious at how Rhysand was treating him. After he had agreed to back off…he had hoped Rhysand would stop acting like an overprotective mother hen. 

He didn't.

And then Mor's Mating Bond with Emerie had snapped and apparently that meant that Rhys was now waiting for Azriel to have a meltdown.

Which he wasn't going to have, thank you very much.

He could think that how Mor had treated him had been utterly unfair...and he could still wish her nothing but the best.

The only thing that he had wished for had been a single conversation with his friend. But she didn't seem to want to have that and so Azriel hadn't pushed. Maybe it was better that way.

It was better that way, he was sure of that. The…closeness they had once shared was gone. Maybe forever. But he was more or less alright with that.

They could all leave him in peace and he would do the same for them.

He made that calculation without Cassian, who came bounding into the training ring with all the energy that Azriel was never quite sure where his brother got it from.

He had barely even put down his spear that Cassian bounded into the training rings, his face split into a broad grin. It was clear that his…morning activities with Nesta had been enjoyable as usual. 

“There you are,” Cassian said with a boisterous grin, clearly not noticing the rather sour mood that Azriel was in. “You look....surprisingly well rested," Cassian said, cocking his head to the side.

“I slept well,” Azriel answered simply, pointedly avoiding eye contact with his brother. He knew damn well what Cassian was going to be asking. 

“You slept well,” Cassian repeated, drawing out every word and making it clear that he was not going to let that go. “Care to specify where?” He asked point blank and Azriel’s jaw tensed. 

Azriel could not suppress the low growl that came from him at that. He was not in the mood to be teased by his brother. And he was also not in the mood to listen to another innuendo-filled conversation about Cassian and Nesta’s sex life. 

“Not one word about that,” he told his brother firmly and Cassian just laughed. 

“Oh come one.” He drawled. “I have to get my fun somewhere. Everyone else is mated already. I have to bother someone!” 

It wasn't supposed to hurt him. He didn't think so. But it still did. It cut. Sharp and deep.

The words cut deep, much deeper than Azriel would have wanted to admit. His jaw tensed and his hand clenched around the spear so hard that it might have creaked. He knew it was a joke…but it didn’t change the fact that it had stung. 

And Cassian didn't seem to notice that at all. "Come on, give me details!"

“There are no details to be given,” Azriel said simply, his voice carefully neutral. “Just because I am not spending the night and listening to the two of you going at it like rabbits, does not mean I have someone in my bedroom.” The words were harsher than he had intended. 

“Don’t tell me you do it in some grimy back alley with a random wench?” His brother teased him and Azriel’s temper flared. The Shadows curled and snarled around him, his temper snapping. 

“I would thank you for not speaking about females that way, and no I am not ‘doing it in a back alley’”, he retorted with a low growl in his voice.  “You should stop talking before you piss me off,” he warned his brother through gritted teeth.  It took all his willpower to make sure that no shadows lashed out. This was Cassian. His brother. 

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Cassian raised his hands, clearly seeing how his words had affected his brother. “I was only teasing. You can be so damn tense about some things. You need to relax,” he said and Azriel had to resist the very real urge to throttle him. 

[parkerluvsu]

can u write something about art and reader having high sex 😛😛😛🙏🏻🙏🏻 like idk just like a chill night at the dorm at stanford or something where they smoke a couple blunts and grind on each other idk!!!!!!!!!!!

MOONLIGHT (art donaldson x fem! reader)

sometimes you felt like a bad influence on art.. he wouldn't let anything that wasn't on his pre-planned diet touch his lips before he met you. but from the first puff of your joint under the bleachers of the tennis court, he was hooked. not just on the woozy feeling he got when he took too long of a hit, but on the feeling of having you around him.

the more you two hung out, the more art associated the feeling of his head in the clouds, not with the large puffs of smoke drifting around his room, but you the feeling of you sitting next to him, your legs draped over his. art feels guilty, if he got caught, he'd absolutely get thrown out of the tennis program, and probably never be able to attend a good school again, but on the other hand.. your sweet giggles as you blow smoke into his face gave made him forget all the consequences if he got caught.

the problem with you (and it's not even really a problem to art.. he thinks you're perfect) is you like things casual. sure you've made out with art in a haze of smoke, maybe grinded a bit over his jeans in the back of his overly clean jeep, and he can't even count the times that you've texted him "you up?" at 2am, but he's never been your "boyfriend".

art knows it would be hard to have a serious conversation with you without the guise of just coming over to smoke, so he shoots you a text.

art: hey can i come over? need to relax :)

the buzz of your phone from the desk beside you steals your attention from your math homework, a welcome distraction. you text him back quickly, eager to have an excuse to smoke.

an eager knock on your door comes only minutes later, arts face a mixture of nerves and excitement, like a kid sneaking candy from their parents. art looks as cute as ever in his wrinkled stanford shirt and his checkered shorts, hair tussled from a night at practice. "cmon in artie" his cheeks blush at the nickname as he enters your dorm, making himself comfortable in the cozy chair in the corner. you pull out the box of paraphernalia from under your bed, flower stickers peeling off of the box from overuse. you tilt your head to the side, looking at arts body language, his constant shifting telling you he's trying to seem calm but he really isn't. "what do you wanna smoke?" you ask him, knowing what his answer will be before he even opens his mouth, "whatever you want".

that seems to be arts answer for anything, "whatever you want", sometimes you think if you walked off the edge of a cliff he'd do the same. art was one of those people who followed everything you did, the way you sat, the way you talked, and even your vocabulary, he would shift to be more similar to you. even when he smoked for the very first time, he watched you inhale so deep and hold it in before blowing a large cloud of smoke into the air, he tried to do the same.. but ended up greening out and throwing up in the trashcan next to the tennis courts. the truth is, art would do that all over again if it meant even one more second with you, and he knew it was clingy and definitely too dependent for the casual situation you were in.. but he can't help himself.

me: sure, come over anytime

art is a lightweight in every sense of the word, whenever Patrick would take him to a frat party to get totally wasted, all it took was one red solo cup full of beer to have art stumbling over his own feet. It was the same with weed, it only took one hit for art to start slurring his words, his body pretty much melting into any surface near him. currently, it's the cozy chair in the corner of your room, but you can see his eyes drifting towards the cozy blankets on you bed. "art, you know you can go sit on my bed right?" his eyes widen and he shuffles over, flopping down on the bed in such a way that would make sober-him flush with embarrassment. you giggle as he wraps himself in the blankets, his head lolling onto the pillow. art blearily watches you come sit on the bed too, leaning against the wall for support. the sight of him tangled up in your blankets reminds you of previous late nights spent together, causing a flutter in your stomach that you're a little ashamed of. art leans over to give you the joint back, your fingers brushing together softly. "y'know you look super pretty right now" art says, "n-not that you don't always look pretty but like.. right now especially" he revises his statement, he's always such a people pleaser. you laugh, taking a long hit from the joint before giving him a wide smile. "thanks artie, you're pretty too" you reply, knowing he likes being called pretty, even though he'd absolutely never say it, the way his ears go red gives him away every time.

as the night goes on, and your shared joint turns into a stub, you find yourself closer to art than you thought you were, your sides pressed up against each other as you lay on your backs, staring up at your ceiling. the boring white paint suddenly seeming very interesting until you felt movement beside you, art was tuning on his side and leaning his face on his hand. you blink, "what are you looking at?" glancing at arts eyes that were fixed on your face. "you" art says simply, causing you to shake your head and laugh. "i know that art.. but why?" you ask, pressing for an answer from him. "dunno.. just your face is nice" he says, his face dropping into your shoulder. arts breath was hot against your neck, making you almost want to pull away, but you'd never do that, enjoying the weight of him against you. arts breathing rate increases against your neck and you wonder why until you feel a pressure against your thigh. "art.." he hums in response, only focused on the small sharp movements of his hips. you know how quickly he shifts from being all innocent and sweet to taking what he needs.

you're such a sucker for art, especially when he's high and he can't hide his feelings like he usually does. you shift your leg to the side to help him, inciting an immediate response of his eyes fluttering shut against your shoulder, his eyelashes tickling you gently. the position that you maneuvered into allowed arts leg to slot between yours as well, letting you slowly rock your hips against his leg, the feeling of his bare skin only making you feel more pleasure. before you know it, art is pressing hot kisses into your neck and your arms are wrapped loosely around his neck. "mmmmmfuck" art groans against your neck, even though he's feeling less woozy than earlier, he's still sensitive, just the feeling of grinding against you having him teetering on the edge. suddenly, you feel his hips stutter and a dampness cover the front of his shorts. art holds his breath for a second before his whole body goes limp against you, his fingers not clenching the sheets anymore.

a comfortable silence falls between you, before art breaks it with his soft voice. "can we go again? 'm sorry i just.. i need you" he whines out, still not showing his face. you giggle softly and nod, lifting up your hips to pull off your pajama pants and panties, art doing the same with his shorts and boxers. "how do you want me?" you ask, sending a flutter of butterflies into arts stomach because of the sense of control you're giving him. art thinks for a second, "can you turn around..? please" he asks, a bit of hesitancy in his voice. you nod, turning to face the wall next to your bed, your back facing art. his gentle hands maneuver your legs into a position that's easy for him to slip into you. he does so slowly, more for your sake than his, he thinks if he pushed inside of you too fast he would surely cum prematurely (not like it hasn't happened before).

you feel art shiver against you, his hips pausing when he enters your fully, his balls resting snugly against your ass. art could truly stay like this forever, if he had the patience and resolve.. but he doesn't, his hips snap into yours quickly, the overstimulation getting to him. he wraps his arms around your stomach, holding you close to him, his head yet again smushed into the crook of your neck. every thrust he gives you feels like it's punching the air out of you, art isn't even pulling all the way out anymore, just humping his hips into you the best he can. even in his delicate headspace, art still wants to please you first, his fingers making their way down your stomach before rubbing messily at your clit, his fingers catching on your nub every few circles, causing you to tighten up around him. art is close, you can always tell by how his voice shifts from more coherent to just straight up blabbering, "mgh.. god.. 's so warm.. you're so warm.." "it feels s' good.. it's feels good to you too right?" "gotta be closer to you.. wan' be closer to you" but you snap to attention when he moans against you, "please be m' girlfriend please.. i wan' you to be mine.." you're sure art has no idea what he's saying until he repeats himself, almost sounding like he's about to cry. you nod quickly, "y-yeah artie okay.. ill be your girlfriend.." now you swear he actually sobs, his hips making one last deep thrust before you feel him fill you up, the sensation sending you over the edge right after him.

art stays inside of you for a minute, dating his breath before pulling out, grabbing a tissue and helping you clean up. when you open your eyes, arts looking up at you with his signature puppy dog eyes. "um.. did you mean what you said?" he asks quietly, his head bowing down quickly, as if he didn't want to see your reaction. you think back to your agreement, sure it was in the heat of the moment, but would it really be such a bad idea to say yes? you pause, and arts head droops even lower, expecting the worst. "art you know ive purposely been keeping this casual.. but i.. i trust you now artie, i do want this to be serious" you reach out for his hand, squeezing it gently. arts face lights up like a kid getting the one present they wanted for christmas as he quickly hugs you. "thank you.. thanks, you won't regret it i swear" you smile, pulling the blankets over the both of you, snuggling into arts chest as you admire the beautiful rays of moonlight streaming into your bedroom.

art is easily entranced by the quick movements of your fingers as you roll a joint, it sounds silly but he's always admired the fact that you didn't buy pre-rolls, preferring to be more independent. you lick the paper to get it to stick shut (and art is grateful you were too focused on that to see the way his eyes widened when you did) and root around your drawer for your lighter, a stupid pink one decorated with hello kitty that you got for your birthday. art couldn't help but find it endearing, the way you were so independent and "too cool" for a real relationship, but you still kept all the things that people gave to you, even if they weren't to your taste. the click of your lighter snapped art out of his observations, the light from the tiny flame illuminating your face in a way that made art want to take a picture, the fluttering flame casting an orange glow onto your skin. the strong smell of the joint caused art to become a little lightheaded even though he hasn’t even taken a hit yet, his fingers grabbing the joint from you after a couple failed tries that make you laugh, the soft giggles a soundtrack for the night.

[keepthedelta]

okay it's kinda specific but is there any brocedes fact that is often overlooked but you think that is essential (or perhaps gives a new approach) to the lore?

that's such a good question. i have several, i hope you don't mind

the first one is the "he'll always be my best friend in my heart" quote. i've seen a lot of people use it as a very earnest declaration etc. (or if they believe in the nico is obsessed with lewis shit as a sign of that) but it was actually nico making a joke when he was doing commentary (on the italian comms i think). he was asked a question about lewis and jokingly/sarcastically said "in my heart he'll always be my best friend", and then immediately clarified that it was a joke (maybe recognising the narrative that would be spun around it). i know this seems kind of anti-brocedes but i do think it is essential to the lore that people recognise nico is not a weird as fandom likes to make out. he's absolutely weird, and he's definitely not normal about lewis, but he's not obsessive, and he feels comfortable enough making jokes about them. when you contrast that with lewis who either refuses to say nico's name in conversations where he is the most relevant person (the better teammates than max interview) or brings him up unnecessarily and then panics about it (grill the grid), i think it changes the dynamic of who is yearning, who is "over it", who is winning the idgaf war (it's neither of them but the difference is lewis lost by playing and nico is open enough about giving a fuck that he's not pretending to play). i am biased, but i also think that if you look back at them during their careers, lewis was always weirder about nico than nico was about him, although again, neither of them can truly be described as normal about each other.

then there's nico beating lewis in the 2004 f3 series that they shared. the narrative of brocedes describes it as lewis always beating nico, lewis being the one to win and nico always being slightly behind. and largely this is true. but in 2004 they were both competing in the 2004 f3 european series, albeit for different teams. neither of them won, but nico narrowly beat lewis. now they were in different teams and nico himself has said that some teams had better cars and equipment than others and that made a difference in the end result. but, nico still beat lewis. he had nearly double the number of dnfs/dns (6 to lewis's 3) and triple the number of wins (3 to lewis's 1), finishing highest of all the entrants who eventually made it to f1 (nico himself, lewis, adrian sutil and robert kubica). but nico himself barely seems to remember this. the narrative of lewis always being better, always beating him, is something he seems to have internalised, even though it isn't quite true, or at least, not as true as people make out.

my third bit of lore is that mclaren wanted to sign nico for the 2008 season. following the drama of fernando alonso (affectionate) and spygate, mclaren had an open seat and ron dennis wanted to fill it with nico. he even offered to buy out nico's contract from williams, but frank williams viewed nico as their best hope and refused. the driver that eventually ended up replacing fernando was heikki kovaleinen, nico's gp2 rival and 100% finnish to his 50% (yes nico's national identity crisis does come into this). lewis ended up winning the championship that year. heikki took only 1 victory, and while i think lewis would have beaten nico, i think nico wouldn't have been a doormat for him like heikki, and would have won at least a couple of races, which would have allowed felipe massa and ferrari to succeed. in many ways i think an argument can be made that nico not getting that mclaren seat really helped lewis to win his first championship, in the same way that if lewis hadn't gone to mercedes, nico would have won three, or if nico had stayed, there is a very real possibility that sebastian vettel would have won 2017. their presence and their success dooms the other, and it always has.

my final thing is that they are the most successful teammate pairing in f1 history. it kind of links back to the last one, where the fact that they are each as good as they are hurts the other one, unlike a lewis and valtteri line up or a michael and rubens line up where there is a distinct number one driver and the other one is to be sacrificed for him. but, even though both of those pairs were together for longer (nico and lewis aren't even in the top 5 longest teammate pairings), it takes more than a number 1 number 2 driver lineup to be the most successful. it takes nico and lewis, who are both number 1 drivers (don't come for me on this, nico would have flattened the likes of valtteri, rubens, or mark webber and you know it). although they were only teammates for four years (and one of those was a sebastian vettel/red bull dominance year) they achieved more pole positions, front row lockouts, wins, podiums, and 1-2 finishes than any other pairing in f1 history. they were utterly, utterly dominant, and that's why they hurt each other so badly. they were the dream team, the absolute best f1 could come up with, but they weren't just competing as a team, they were competing against each other, and only one of them could win

[natalievoncatte]

Lena knew her pulse was racing, but Kara was either pretending not to notice or too tired to care. They were curled together tightly under the blanket, Kara’s head resting on Lena’s chest, the pair of them curled into each other with a desperate intensity.

An outside observer would see no difference between the way that Nia was tucked and folded neatly into Brainy, his head lolling against hers as they slept on the other side of the couch. Nor would they see any discrepancy between the way Kelly and Alex were stuffed together in the armchair next to it, curled up in one another like a pair of cats tucked in against a cold night.

The outside observer would see three couples who’d begun with a game night and progressed to an unplanned movie marathon and started to crash out and fall asleep, full of wine and mirth and too tired to get home.

One couple wasn’t. One of these pairings was just friends, and the knowledge of it was like a ragged gaping hole in her chest, where something had crushed and torn through her and left a gap that would never be filled.

Lena was terrified.

Alex and Kelly were married now. Nia and Querl were getting very serious. They were going to start building lives.

Kara’s coming out had gone well. She was truly growing into herself in a way that frightened Lena as much as it warmed her heart. The Girl was growing to equal the Super, Kara becoming more and more herself even without the crutch that her suit provided. She was uninhibited, free.

In her secret heart, Lena hated it. In the end, Kara had been right, damn her. The Secret had meant something. They once had a space that was uniquely theirs, where Kara was a person only Lena knew, that not even Alex ever experienced. Yes, the Secret frequently intruded, but in those moments where it hadn’t, where their mutual pining to be normal met and they used it to build a space all their own, the real Kara came out.

That space had been shattered by their falling out but rebuilt stronger, its foundations laid the day that Kara came home from the hell outside the multiverse, the first brick laid when Kara had leaned in as Lena broke their hug and stared at Lena’s lips.

God damn me, Lena thought, why didn’t I make the move? Why didn’t I do it?

The moment was lost.

She looked down at Kara now, purring away on her chest. Kara had begun embracing her alien self, slowly stripping away all the ablative secrets that she’d layered onto herself to pass for human. Lena was delighted to discover that Kara could do that; that if she relaxed it would happen on its own. It made Lena contented and sleepy, especially when they were close in like this.

God, she was so beautiful. Lena had never laid eyes on Kara’s equal and never would, and when she walked tall and smiled and flashed her easy, invulnerable confidence, the sight of her was almost unbearable. Looking at Kara left marks on Lena’s heart the way that looking at the sun left burnt streaks in her vision.

Fear, cold and merciless, clenched in her chest. One day it would happen. Someone would succeed where James and William had failed and Mon-El had come so close. They’d snatch her away and Kara would throw herself into it with abandon and Lena would lose her.

Lena pressed her eyes shut to fight back tears. She willed herself not to mourn a loss before its time, to savor the soft weight propped on her chest and the tangy scent of Kara’s skin but she couldn’t help herself.

“Lena?” Kara whispered.

With all the guilt of a thief found red-handed, Lena froze, her mouth dry.

“What’s wrong?”

Lena glanced around the room. The others were all sleeping soundly, passed out in each others arms. Lena wondered what that was like, to sleep with the joyful comfort of assurance that they would not wake alone, that the others would stay.

“Nothing,” Lena lied.

Kara knew. In the dark, her blue eyes seemed to emit a faint light, another peculiarity of Kryptonian physiology that Lena honestly just hadn’t noticed before The Secret was revealed.

Kara turned slightly, shifted, and tucked the blanket in close, wrapped tightly round them. It was chilly in her loft and Kara was like a living furnace, warming Lena’s cold bones. When Kara slipped a hand free, her skin was fever hot on Lena’s cheek. She leaned into the touch, greedy for it.

“It’s okay,” Kara murmured. “Nobody’s gonna get you while I’m here.”

Lena smiled sadly. Kara knew about the night terrors, about her fears and how she sometimes hated the dark, because the barriers of their friendship, the walls that defined it, were so bent and strained that they’d never return to shape, even as they refused to yield.

“That’s not what I’m scared of. I’m scared of when someone gets you.”

Kara blinked.

“Sooner or later you won’t have as much time for your best friend. You’ll find someone else.”

“Why would I want someone else?” Kara said, almost too loud. “I want you.”

Oh God, that hurt so much. It made the frayed edges of that hole in her ache, at once raw and fresh and old and desiccated. She couldn’t go on like this. Why did Kara say things like that?”

“Were you going to kiss me the night we got you back?”

Kara flinched, and now she looked the thief.

They were both silent. Kara stared.

“I was scared to. We’d only just… I was afraid everything would break.”

Lena swallowed hard.

“Kara, what the hell are you waiting for?”

She blinked a few times more, a storm of emotions clouding her angelic features. She flushed, eyes wide, and was looking directly, openly at Lena’s lips.

She tasted like cherry lip balm and red wine. Kara’s kisses were like Kara herself, ardent and gentle in equal measure, the chaste softness of pressed lips smoldering with the same alien fire that burned under her lushly warm skin. Lena moaned softly, and that from little more than a soft peck on the lips.

She was an addict who’d just tasted the ambrosia of her dreams and her head was spinning. In an instant everything had changed, though Kara had barely moved. There was something new in the way Kara’s arms snaked around her. A slight shift and Kara touched her forehead to Lena’s before kissing her again, deeply this time. Lena let her eyes drift shut and savored it.

“I. Am not. Going. Anywhere.”

There was a heavy, almost oppressive silence. A sob of relief choked out of Lena and she hugged Kara fiercely, freely, joyfully free to crush herself against her unbreakable love.

“I mean,” Alex said, “you could move to the bedroom. I think we’d all prefer that.”

Lena almost jumped out of her skin. Kara let out an equally surprised yelp, as they both realized that everyone else was awake and watching them get lost in each other.

Lena cleared her throat. Kara sat up. She was beet red, and Lena was sure she was, too.

“Guys,” said Kara. “Get out.”

[fandomxo00]

Ok but imagine this tho:

Logan finding your journal full of things about him

found gif on @darlinggash

The moment you and Logan met the two of you clicked in an unusual way. Immediately getting on each other's nerves but having the same sense of humor. You both got grumpy and violent at times. The two of you started training together and growing as friends. There was no way in your brain that he saw you as anymore and as time passed fate proved you right.

But that didn't mean you didn't have feelings for him. Because you fell in love with Logan pretty quickly. The only reason why you were able to hide it is because you wrote about it. You wrote in detail about your feelings for him, instead of shoving them down or acting like a bumbling idiot. You trusted Logan and you were very comfortable around him. You didn't want that to change because of your feelings for him.

Logan just didn't think you felt the same way he felt that he didn't have a chance with you. That you deserved someone better than him, but he also didn't like to imagine you with anyone but him. Because he never thought he would find love. He didn't think he would find it in you but one day he just looked at you differently. He started noticing how beautiful you were, something he knew from the beginning. But it was starting to get hard to not say anything, to not kiss you. He didn't know if he could be your friend anymore.

Though he couldn't tell if you felt the same way, not until he found your notebook. Walking to your room, bringing his knuckles up to gentle rap against the open door. The door creaking open to reveal your empty room, your music playing from your speaker on your desk. A smile came over Logan's face as he stepped closer, one of Logan's favorite songs flowing through the speakers. Glancing down at the notebook on your desk in an almost bashful way as the apple of his cheeks rose. Then his eyes slightly squinted when seeing his name on the page, before moving in closer.

I feel guilty for the way I feel, I know I'm told to not be, that having feelings for a friend isn't usual. That it didn't mean have to mean anything, because there was no way he could feel the same way. He smelt like leather and tobacco, his musk filling my senses whenever he was around. Or when he touched me, that's when I felt really bad. Because I liked it for more than he knew, I didn't like being touched but I wanted this man to keep his hands on me all day. The idea was comforting, and the thought of his large muscular hands put on your body even if it was just your arm or your shoulder. You'd always lean into his touch, desperate for more. You told yourself you wouldn't get worked up, that you just be friends. But you didn't want to be his friend and it was getting harder to ignore.

Logan felt his stomach flip, swallowing down the lump in his stomach as he read something so private. Something intimate that you wrote about...someone who sounded a whole lot like him. He wasn't sure, but he knew you didn't have alot of other male friends. That he religiously wore his leather jacket even in 90-degree weather and smoked cigars like a chimney. You had sure that it had to be doing some type of damage at the rate he smoked. But talking about how made you wanted this guy to touch you, when you didn't like touch, something you warned him about in the beginning. Logan tried to respect it, but you never moved away like you did with others, you'd visibly flinch away when you didn't like it.

He leant down to keep reading from your notebook;

Last night, we stayed up late together, he'd been drinking but regardless he was still Logan. He frustrated you with because of a random that you blabbed about. Always trying to pick on you and pretend to be agitated, you hoped anyway. You always tried not to blush around him, but last night it just happened. You really hoped he didn't notice. Its why you couldn't look into his eyes, you were getting far too attached for just friends.

It was him. Logan turned the page in the notebook to continue to read.

Spending all this time with him is making me think about him subconsciously. His mossy green eyes worming their way into your dreams, fantasizing about your fingers in his hair, his hips thrusting into yours. You didn't know what he looked like down there but you knew what he looked like shirtless. God, you wanted to feel him. You felt so creepy dreaming and writing about this. But it was what happened in your dream, and it didn't help that you were in love with him.

Fuck. He really shouldn't be reading this right now. But before he could read anymore, the door creaked open and you smiled over at him, "Hey, Lo." His eyes went to your tiny little shorts you were wearing, god all of this was driving him insane. Logan couldn't let this slide though, he just had to tease you, wanted to see that blush he'd evidently missed the other night. He blamed the dim lightly, but the sun was shining bright through the window. Your eyes going to his hand that laid on the page of your journal, without him even saying a word a flush bloomed on your cheeks.

"You've been writing about me, mouse." Logan stated, he didn't even have to question it. He also made fun of your voice, when you get worked up your started to squeak a little your voice getting high pitched. His fingers dance along the lines and scribbles on the paper, circling his digit around his name.

"I-I can explain." You mumbled, your hands coming up to feign innocence.

"I think this did all the explaining I need." Logan continued, he dipped his down to read from the book, "I think I need to move on from him, but he was your best friend, and he was perfect. You think I'm perfect?" He teased as you darted towards the journal as he yanked it away from the table before bringing it up over his head. You let out a squeak as you jumped, the sound and action making him laugh at your height difference. You lightly shoved at Logan's buff chest, as he barely moved an inch as you hit at his arm.

"Give it back!" You cried, as you glared into his eyes. The look on your face warmed his heart as he shoved the journal far away from you. "H-how do you know it's about you?" Logan smiled at you, the lines on his face crinkling as he made eye contact with you before looking up at the book.

"The other day Logan stopped me from falling, and my hands gripped his bicep, I could the ridges and veins, god you were just crazy for him."

"Logan." You whined, before flipped the book shut before leaning down to hand it back to you. You snatched it from his grip, bringing it to his chest.

"Wanna know my favorite part, got it memorized, liked it so much." Logan hummed, as he stepped closer to your retreating form. You felt like prey, Logan the predator swirling in you, his eyes were dark and his steps purposeful. "His mossy green eyes worming their way into your dreams, fantas-."

"Logan pleasse stop." You pleaded, your doe eyes looking up at his as you fell back against the door as it shut behind you. Logan's hand coming over your head as he leant into you.

"-fantasizing about your fingers in his hair, his hips thrusting into yours." Logan's voice grew darker as he dipped his head into your neck, the hot air emitting from his mouth fanning over your skin. Making you shiver as one of his hands fell to your waist as his eyes dipped to meet yours. "How long have you been writing about me?"

"When did we meet?" You retorted, a anxious giggle falling from your mouth as your eyes darting away from his in shyness. Logan sighed out, his nose meeting the side of your cheekbone the scruff his beard threading to rub against your jaw.

"Well I'd like to make your fantasies come true." Logan grumbled into your ear as goosebumps rose across your neck. Your hand fell to his waist as you moved in closer to him.

"Please do." You panted, throwing caution to the wind with Logan so close and looking at you like that.

tags: @ohtobemare @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland @mega-kittyglitter-1

[fishnapple]

How they act towards you vs towards other people

(lover/partner/future spouse)

The lighting was bad so I didn't include the pictures of crystals for each group.

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

1. Labradorite

How they act towards you The energy: Black egg

They will be their most truthful self when they are with you. They will always speak the truth or try to. It could be unfiltered, they may even be more blunt with you than with other people. What they don't feel comfortable sharing with others, they will be comfortable sharing with you. You will be the one to witness the most authentic version of them.

They will try to be a dependable person that you can lean on, wanting to be your pillar of strength. They also want you to be the best version of yourself. But the way they do it can be a little heavy-handed. They have the tendency to say things that can get on your nerves, if you are someone who doesn't have the thickest skin, you would find their words sometimes hurting or too raw, too blunt, too sharp, they will touch your most vulnerable part, your foundation. In the process, you may be hurt and want to lash out at them but if you become more aware of yourself and try to look at things from a positive viewpoint then you will come out stronger than ever, no one will be able to shake your foundation. In a way, they help you destroy the untrue and unstable and then help you build up the true and enduring.

On a lighter note, they will act more silly with you, saying ridiculous things that they normally wouldn't say to other people, just to make you laugh. It will be odd, clumsy, but endearing, you will find your stomach constantly hurting from laughing.

They will probably give you many surprising gifts that show their care and thoughtfulness. It could even be a handmade gift. The one that you can keep for many years to come, the one that will be the symbol of their devotion to you that can always bring you comfort whenever you look at it.

At times, they could fall under a melancholy spell, unsure of themselves and their worth in the relationship. You will find them being a little jittery, hiding themselves away from you. They may need some alone time to realign themselves. Just give them the time and space they need and always be honest with them.

How they act towards other people The energy: Sea serpent

They are a lot less demanding of other people than with you. They will hide their thoughts and intentions a lot, prefer to keep them to themselves. They may have been betrayed in the past, so it made them wary and distrustful towards other people. They will have their guard up most of the time.

Unlike their tendency to doubt themselves when being with you, to other people, they will present a very confident and vibrant self. Their public image could be quite eccentric, the one who always stands out from the crowd. But they have a very empathetic aura that people find very comforting. People would easily open up to them, even when your person doesn't have much in common with that person.

They will act like a teacher to other people, always ready to give advice and guidance. They will be generous and helpful, dedicated, and dependable. They will try to be the safe space for other people, no idea is too unrealistic, no thought is too wishful, no belief is too strange, they will help others be more comfortable and open to more new ideas. A gentle teacher.

But your person will hide a lot of things from other people. They may sometimes appear as a people-pleaser, wanting to avoid conflict. If they are angry or not pleased with the other person, they won't show it directly, could even be a little passive aggressive.

2. Citrine

How they act towards you The energy: Dragonfly

They will talk a lot with you. Sharing every thought and random inspiration with you. They may have a fear of miscommunication, not many people understand them, and their way of communicating may not be very clear. But with you, I think you guys will have similar communicating style that allows them to be more comfortable in sharing their chaotic thoughts. They feel energised by talking with you. Not just talking but listening too, they want to be both the student and the teacher. Mental connection will be their focus. They don't want to have any misunderstanding between you guys.

They will act less restrained while having you by their side. When you go somewhere public, they will be more brave and show themselves more, unapologetically. They will be more sociable, more open to strangers and new acquaintances. You help expand their social circle. But that doesn't mean they will forget about you and go mingling with other people. They will still keep themselves close to you.

They definitely will act more loving and gentler with you than other people. Sometimes, it can be childish, wanting to be spoiled and babied by you.

At the same time, their intensity will be visible to you but not intimidating. It will show the focus on being happy and trust in each other. They are fiercely protective of the relationship with you and will try to stay clear-headed to maneuver any hardship that you may encounter.

For some reason, I get a sense that they will try too hard to present a perfect partner image and hide some parts that they deem not favourable, such as their more messy emotions, their fantasies, their true desires. In a sense, a part of them will stay detached from the relationship, they don't go all in, despite their unrestrained way of sharing their thoughts with you, some of their deeper thoughts will still stay hidden. This could be a problem later on because they can't keep the perfect image forever, and they don't want to disappoint you. You will have to be pretty intuitive in your approach, if you can sense that they are hiding something, instead of confronting them, you could gently point to that direction and share your thought and experience related to it, try to send the message that you won't judge them, that you can see their truer self and can still love them for it.

How they act towards other people The energy: Firefly

As I was saying in the previous section, your person can be very confusing in communicating with other people. Either they don't really say what they're thinking or their words are ambiguous and misleading. Subconsciously, they could have a desire to mislead and confuse others. They don't feel comfortable sharing their true self, it feels too vulnerable and disorientating.

They are intensely private yet appear as very open and a social butterfly. They excel at superficial interactions, arousing interest in the other person, but only for a fleeting moment, turn around and they will be gone. They could be very popular, especially on the internet, social media. They have this enigmatic and charming presence that others find irresistible yet unreachable. They can share their cool new ideas, some wacky pose or random stuffs about their life that intrigue other people, but even if you scroll through all their contents, you won't be able to tell a definite tale about who they are.

With other people, they will joke a lot and not acting serious, they can appear as superficial and childish, or childlike, a fun entertainer.

Whatever unpleasantness that they feel, they will shove it down their subconscious, not willing to face and acknowledge it. This can lead to the feeling of dissatisfaction and resentment that they don't even know exactly where they come from. Another thing is that they will act 'pure' in front of other people, hiding their more aggressive side. People may view them as cute, innocent, pure, and all kind of that perception and won't be able to associate aggression and sexuality with your person. People may treat them like an eternal child, and the thing is, your person doesn't object to that perception. In some way, it helps in protecting themselves.

3. Agate

How they act towards you The energy: Eagle

They will act all clingy with you, physically and emotionally, they want to be close to you all the time, you may even sometimes find it suffocating and want to push them away a little. They seem to be a pretty confident and straightforward person that they don't have any problem showing their more needier side to you. They are probably the kind of person that when they find a song they love, they will abuse the repeat button countless times and many years later, that song will still be their favourite.

They will want to constantly in contact with you, asking what you're doing, where you are, do you need or want anything, they could even drop their work and other schedules to be with you. If you show some detachment towards them, they will definitely notice and confront you about it or will just pout openly. I don't know how you will feel about all this, but they sure are not leaving any space between you guys. They have a tendency to involve themselves in their partner's life a little too much. You will need to remind them again and again so that they don't lose themselves in the relationship.

They will be openly displaying their affection towards you in public. They like the idea of people knowing you guys are together, it makes them proud and giddy. Nothing obnoxious, of course, they will be pretty restrained but still show enough.

They will want to take you on sudden trips, preparing surprises for you on no particular occasion. Knowing your favourite music, food, your idea of dream date, then plan the most romantic date for you.

Their romance mode will be full on.

How they act towards other people The energy: Eagle

This person is very consistent in their energy, whether with their lover or other people, they show the same strong and radiant energy of the Eagle.

With other people, though, they won't show their vulnerable and needy side. There's still that intensity and care towards the other person, but they will be more confrontational and direct in their approach. They will talk a lot, sometimes not letting the other person have a word in, could be quarrelsome, but only when they are provoked, they're not preachy or controlling. People can still feel a certain softness in them. It's not harsh, and their words have a certain genius to them that some could even find it sexy. Their energy feels very alpha and dominant.

They care a lot about how they come across to others, their public image. They will always try to be their most presentable self in front of people. No curse words, no uncivilised actions, fussy, charming (when they are not in quarrel mode), prim and proper.

They have some hobbies that they can share with their close friends. They like to have fun and play games, joking around, being unintentionally flirty.

Others could say that they are a home-body or not going out much (probably busy being with you). If not at home, then they will be busy travelling somewhere. Their whereabouts can be pretty mysterious.

They have a certain spiritual belief that they keep to themselves, even with you, they won't disclose it fully, and not disclosing it at all with other people. It may not be anything big or mind shattering. They just don't want to voice it out, it's the part of them that want to keep private.

4. Amazonite

How they act towards you The energy: Beaver

Love for this person is a serious commitment that they won't take lightly. Once they've committed to you, they will put in their effort to keep the relationship healthy and strong. They will view it as a project. They will put their heart at the centre of every action they take towards you.

They will act responsible towards you. Be a dependable and steady partner for you. If any problem or conflict would ever arise, they will roll up their sleeves and find the solution for it. Their love language is act of service. If anything, be it a small inconvenience such as you forgetting your umbrella on a rainy day, to a bigger problem such as distance between you guy's living places, they will try to do it for you, to erase the inconvenience or the problem. They will approach everything with practicality.

They could act a little dry and too serious towards you sometimes, trying to emulate a literal rock. Because in their mind, you are the love of their life, so they have to act serious and responsible, this can also make them hide some of their traits that they deem childish. If it's you, then it's okay for you to act childish sometimes. They will assume the more mature role. But if it's them, then they cannot allow themselves to act like that. They will put some standards on themselves. You won't be starved of affection, their love will be a constant, comfortable flame that can warm you and help you make many things.

But in term of intimacy, they won't be restrained towards you. They will try to know your every wish and desire, from your own words to your facial expressions and from something left unsaid, they will know it all. You will find it uncanny how much they understand you. And how much they can put their effort to make your wish and desire come true.

With you, they will always try to be brave, to leave their fears at the door. Even when they see some obstacles in your future together, they won't give up, they will try to conquer them. They will probably talk a lot about your future together, it will sound romantic and dreamy and it will surprise you.

How they act towards other people The energy: Camel

This person has a lot of love to give, even with other people, they always put the harmony and balance in relationship to the centre. They are charming, not in the superficial or loud way, or even mystical or jubilant way. Their charm is quiet and steady. People can't help but be attracted to them.

They will be a dependable person that many will look up to. They could be in a higher position in their career. If they are a boss then they will be the caring and well-liked one, but are not too close with other people, there will be an appropriate distance.

They are pretty independent and resourceful, others come to them for help but they usually don't come to others. They would rather solve the problem on their own. They could overburden themselves with other people's problems, not to mention their own problems.

Some people may try to control or wanting to be more involved in your person's life, but they won't dare to, they will hesitate, because they can see that your person is just too independent and know full well their worth to be manipulated or controlled by someone else.

They will be guarded towards sharing their goals or future plans with other people. They know that the moment they share it, it will be affected by other's opinions and objections and will create unnecessary obstacles.

It's like somehow they don't want to receive the same kind of treatment that they give to other people. They can be caring and considerate, ready to help, but when it comes to themselves, they actually want to be left alone and don't want other's involvement.

5. Aventurine

How they act towards you The energy: Elephant

This person has some insecurities or some misunderstood perception when it comes to you. They don't feel too confident and sure of themselves when they are in your presence. It's like you hold up a mirror to them, making them aware of their shortcomings and imperfections.

They're not used to this, so they might want to over compensate by acting in a more aggressive, assertive, and confident, trying to exert dominance, trying to control the situation. But it will mainly be in petty matters, though.

I think you just view this kind of behaviour as childish. They will act a little like a spoiled brat, wanting to get their way, but in an endearing way? You will probably chuckle and indulge them.

They will pout a lot or give you silent treatment often. It will be frustrating. When they do talk, it can become a clash of egos. Maybe your communication styles are just different.

They just want their ego to be soothed a bit. They want to be acknowledged by you, to feel needed and praised for their effort. When they do get that, they will be very loving and accommodating, like a cat with hackles raised then turned docile when being petted properly.

How they act towards other people The energy: Earthworm

This person could be young? They don't seem to be too confident when around other people either.

They can act defensive and will try to appear more mature, in control of their life. But others can pick up on their insecurities. They can be shy in public. But they will put efforts into becoming more sure of themselves, learning to gain more knowledge and try to understand themselves better. Maybe they're surrounded by more mature and experienced people, so they feel the need to prove themselves.

They could be the nice guy/ nice girl that people feel that they can ask for more, demand more from your person, they will think that your person is easy-going. Some controlling or manipulative people could be involved too much in their life.

They get projected a lot on, it could be really tiresome. Coupled with their lack of assertiveness could result in them not being taken seriously. It's a big lesson for them to learn in this life, to assert themselves and be clear, to be more in their masculine energy, but not in the toxic way.

People could compliment their hands or their body a lot. It can feel like harassment sometimes. Physical appearance could be their insecurity and makes them more guarded towards people in general.

It probably the reason why you will be gentle and act with compassion when they try to be controlling or aggressive. Because you understand their struggle, and I think deep down, they're really grateful for that.

6. Flourite

How they act towards you The energy: Deer

I will be honest and say that they will act like a parent to you. In a nurturing and caring, protective way.

They will seem motherly to you, regardless of their gender. They will fuss about your daily routine, whether you've eaten enough, do you get enough rest, etc.

They may view you as someone they need to take care of, to gently guide you in life. They could be older or are used to taking care of other people, so they assume this role for themselves, perhaps? In some parts deep down inside them, the thought of helping you, protecting you will satisfy their wish to be a 'saviour', they want to have someone that they can commit to and even sacrifice a part of themselves to that person. They may have some Neptune, Jupiter and Saturn aspects in their chart.

They will be highly in tune with you. What you feel, they can subconsciously feel it too. Someday, you may not feel well in the body and you will see that they've become moody or tired without knowing why. They will share all your joy and sadness, truly mean it when they say that they're happy for you or they feel sad for you.

They could become a little paranoid and overly protective when you show signs of distress of emotional distance. They will want to know why, step in and take care of the cause, could be silently, secretly. Like a guardian, always a few steps behind you.

You will feel that all of their focus is put on you, it could feel unnerving, it could feel like being in a tight embrace.

How they act towards other people The energy: Moth

They are pretty detached towards other people. There's this indifferent air about them. It's not that they don't care, but they don't want to be too involved with the other person, they prefer to keep it light and polite.

They will be generous, though. If someone asks for help, they will probably help them as best as they could, and after that, they won't need any reward or praise from that person. It can feel quite clinical or cold to the other person.

They would like to talk and banter with people, light conversations, nothing too serious, could be gossiping. They have a belief that everyone should have their own path, if somehow their paths are connected, great, but if not, then no problem, just live and let live.

This detachment but friendly way of them could actually make them popular with the crowd. As long as people don't get too attached to them. Only a few people get to have a closer look inside your person's psyche.

People will be curious about them, what do they do for fun? What are they like when angered? what's their favourite food? To even more intrusive curiosity, like what are they like in bed? How much money do they have?

They will keep themselves as a mystery to other people, they can get curious all they want but your person won't care.

[jeonscatalyst]

LET’S TALK ABOUT “ARE YOU SURE?!”

I started doing a very long review of the entire season of AYS but I changed my mind along the way because I have seen so many other people give reviews of the show which I generally agree with so me doing another one just to repeat the same thoughts felt a little unnecessary so I decided to look into some aspects of Jikook’s special bond which AYS practically reaffirmed or which some us might be finding out for the first time. This post is going to be incredibly long so brace yourselves.

These are mostly my observations and some of these observations are not new to me at all. These observations would be supported by mentions of moments from the show or twitter links to see some described moments.

*Jimin listens to Jungkook

I love how Jimin and Jungkook listen and pay attention to each other but it was especially beautiful to see this aspect of their dynamic play out in AYS. I noticed that no matter how unimportant what Jungkook was saying seemed, Jimin always listened to him, validated him and participated in the conversation . The two moments I recall the most (there are more) were from the Jeju episodes. In episode 5 while at the meat restaurant, I loved how Jimin just sat there listening as Jungkook explained to him how to tenderize meat. You could tell that for some reason that topic was important to Jungkook or he loved talking about it and Jimin knew this so he encouraged the conversation by asking follow up questions and Jungkook happily explained things to him. Now I don’t particularly think Jimin was very interested to know how to tenderize meat or all of that but it was beautiful how he created a space where Jungkook felt comfortable enough to just talk about the most simple things knowing that someone was actually listening and paying attention to him.

Then we also have the moment when they all got back from the last restaurant they visited in Jeju. We see Jungkook happily telling Jimin that he saw two bikers on their way home and this was so sweet on its own because things like this show you how innocent and child like Jungkook is because things like that still amuse or excite him but what was even more touching to me was Jimin’s response. Jimin didn’t just stay quiet or just say “ok”or “really” and leave it at that but he actually engaged in the coversation too and told Jungkook that he saw him waving at them. This was really precious to me because it’s beautiful how Jk knows that he can talk to Jimin about any and everything and he would always get a response that doesn’t make him feel like what he is saying isn’t important.

These are things that people easily ignore or undermine but seeing moments like this explains why Jungkook said he found the greatest comfort in Jimin and why Jimin is who he went to when he needed company.

*Jungkook is more verbally expressive around Jimin.

I don’t know if many people have noticed this but when watching BTS content, it is easy to notice that Jungkook is usually quieter among all the members. He doesn’t talk much and rarely ever initiates topics for discussion but just goes along with them. We usually see more of the physically expressive side of Jk when he is around other people but AYS showed me a side of Jk I must I admit I didn’t know too well.

With Jimin, Jungkook is more vocally expressive. We saw him literally take lead of conversations, vocally express how much he loved the show and how much fun he was having, we saw him initiate conversations quite a bit and I must say this felt new ans different from the Jk we know in other content who usually can’t even speak over his hyungs. We usually saw him try to say something and eventually give up, he didn’t vocally express his thoughts much unless he was specifically asked but with Jimin, he is so different. Maybe the more accurate way to put this is that Jungkook is the biggest yapper around Jimin even though he goes quieter with others.

I also love the fact that we don’t only see him vocally express his happiness. I love that we see him express his frustrations at Jimin too. When he is mad at Jimin he doesn’t hide it, when he is not impressed he doesn’t hide it, when he is sad or hurt by something Jimin says or does he doesn’t hide it. This shows a very deep level of understanding and trust because Jungkook knows he doesn’t have to pretend around Jimin. He is sure and secure in whatever bond they have that he is ok with showing Jimin every side of his. His happiness, excitement, pain, sadness, frustrations, anger. This is what an ideal relationship is like to me. This is what a real deep connection feels like to me and seeing Jikook like this melted my heart. I was so happy to able to see this side of Jungkook because it’s not a side we had seen alot.

I love how Jungkook feel comfortable talking about the most mundane things in settings where he feels the most comfortable or with people he feels the most comfortable with. After watching AYS, I got to finally understand why Jungkook loved doing very long lives so much. I think we can all agree that there is a certain level of comfort Jungkook feels when he is Live. He talks about any and everything to us seated on the other sides of our screens watching him. He tells us about the size of Bams poop, tells us about meals he loves to cook, tells us about the most unserious stories about wanting to meet and befriend ghosts, he feels comfortable falling asleep with us watching. When I think about it, I feel like he does that alot because he knows he can just talk and we would just listen without judging or openly judging the things he likes to talk about. Maybe with some friends or actual people in his life, he can’t just sit with them and talk about whatever he wants to talk about because some people might not find the “weird” things he likes to talk about fun or interesting, i mean how many people want to just sit there and hear about meat tenderizing? How many people want to sit and hear or talk about the size of a dog’s poop? How many people would just be quiet and listen to you talk about sand fleas? I think when Jungkook is around people he or settings that he knows he can just be completely himself and talk about whatever he want, he just goes off completely. That is how I see him and Jimin.

*Jikook truly enjoy spending time together

I’m sure many of us already know this but AYS once again showed that Jimin and Jungkook actually love spending time together. I’m not talking about time where they can just meet, do one of two fun activities and then go their separate ways, I am talking about them truly enjoying each other’s company no matter what they are doing. We saw them sticking together, choosing to do almost everything together and going to bed together even when there was another member in the mix. After their showers on those nights in Jeju, they could have just gone and done their different things like we saw tae do but they enjoyed sticking together and doing things together. It makes sense why over the years, we have heard from members and staff that Jikook were together alot. Makes sense why they called themselves all nighter buddies and we saw that dynamic at play in Jeju.

*Jikook have an insane amount of Inside Jokes

This is one nobody can argue. Jimin and Jungkook have an insane amount of inside Jokes and they watch alot of the same things. So many times people around them don’t understand the things they say. Hell even us watching had to wait for people to dig and explain to us what some of the things they said meant.

We saw this at play again throughout the AYS episodes. I love how Jimin and Jungkook instantly get each other and how they immediately pick up what the other is saying while others around them are still trying to figure things out. This is one of the ways you can tell that two people spend alot of time together and know each other deep.

*Jikook don’t need alot to feel happy and to have fun with each other

Jimin and Jungkook are two people who can create fun and happiness for themselves in any situation. They don’t need to be doing any fun physical activities to really enjoy or have fun being around each other. Just a simple drive, a walk, a meal, or just sitting down talking is fun for them. Just a train ride listening to music from the same airphones is interesting and fun to them. They don’t get bored around each other doing the most mundane things. They honestly enjoy the smallest things and as Jungkook said “These simple things were fun” (referring to walking around the streets of Tokyo with Jimin in 2017)

They create their happiness and fun anywhere they are doing anything …..

It’s just the little things….

Little 5 year olds playing after lights out😂

*Jungkook loves making Jimin laugh

This is something we all already knew but seeing it again in AYS was so cute. Jungkook really loves making Jimin laugh and I guess that the fact that Jimin is usually ready to have all his teeth out laughing and any little thing Jungkook does, gives him more motivation. Jungkook doesn’t mind looking like a clown if it means that it will make Jimin laugh. He teases him even sometimes just to get a chuckle out of him.

* Jimin finds Jungkook very endearing

Do I even need to explain this? Sometimes it feels like to Jimin, Jungkook is the cutest, most endearing, funniest person in the world. I don’t think we see Jimin laugh around any other people as much as he laughs around Jungkook. The man is a giggling mess anytime he is around Jungkook and I can’t even blame him because Jungkook sure likes making him laugh. He sometimes gets lost in Jungkook too you know….

*Jikook just get each other

Another thing I noticed again in AYS is how much Jikook just get each other. They don’t need words ti understand how the other feels. Doesn’t matter if they are being silly or serious, they just get what the other person is trying to express.

An example of this would be while they were at the ham and pink sausage restaurant in Jeju, after their little “incident” Jungkook immitated a meme which someone did when he needed an apology and Jimin understood what Jungkook needed immediately just by seeing him immitating that meme, and he apologized.

(First clip from this compilation)

Another moment that showed how much they just get each other was in episode 8 when Jungkook noticed that Jimin felt sad about the trip ending. Jimin didn’t say anything but Jungkook noticed it and starting doing stuff to cheer him on starting from playfully touching his head (even though he knew Jimin didn’t like when his head got touched) and reminding everyone that Jimin doesn’t like it bit he is doing it, to teasing him with the camera in his face infront of the restaurant to opening the windows of the car on their drive to the airport because he knew Jimin had said he goes to cold places when he is is a slump.

Touching his head

Playfully zooming into his face with the camera

Opening the windows to let the cold air in to lift their moods:

We also saw him being soft and reassuring to Jimin after he sensed that Jimin felt bad about the trip ending. What he says here, how he looks at Jimin and how he rubs Jimin’s nape/back trying to comfort him, was so beautiful.

* Jungkook likes zooming into Jimin’s face

Do I even need to explain this part? We’ve seen him do this for years and it was kinda funny to see it again on AYS

*Jimin is Jungkook’s Jungkook!

I don’t even know how to explain this other than saying than showing you this….

Jimin constantly singing Jungkook’s “3D” as “peuriri” and constantly going “standing next to you” every two seconds is so Jungkook of him. Jungkook gets a taste of his own medicine and doesn’t know how to handle it.

*They clearly keep up with each other/ they know each other so well

Contrary to haters beliefs that Jikook don’t keep up with each other outside of content, it is clear that they do. We saw it when Jimin dropped “Face” and we saw it again on AYS with Jimin and singing Jungkook’s song before it was released, Jimin knowing about Jungkook’s schedules, Jungkook knowing about Jimin’s second album release and even seeing the video of Jimin dancing with kids. Infact during the Jeju and Sapporo episodes, it was so obvious to see that those two knew alot about each other’s activities, schedules and plans. You didn’t see them getting surprised after getting information about each other.

To add to this, it was very clear that Jungkook knows what Jimin likes and vice versa. He knew Jimin would like his food spicy, he knew Jimin would enjoy the beef stew he cooked in Jeju. Jimin knew Jungkook would enjoy climbing and racing so he picker that place. Jimin knew Jungkook liked driving abroad, Jimin knew Jungkook had to go to the US to film with Usher etc. No arguments here.

* Jungkook loves to cook for Jimin

We already knew this but this was once again confirmed in AYS.

* The people around Jikook know how much Jikook are around each other.

Over the years, we have heard from members and people around Jikook say just how much time Jikook spend together and we once again got something like that from AYS.

Tae saw Jk do the soju bottle trick and immediately assumed that Jimin taught him. This is something that many people would miss but If Jikook didn’t have a habit of being together alot and drinking together, Tae who actually knows two of them personally wouldn’t have immediately assumed Jimin taught Jk that trick after seeing him do it and the funniest thing is, Jimin said Jk didn’t even learn it from him so why didn’t Tae think of anyone else or even assume that Jk learnt from tiktok or youtube? Why did his mind immediately go to Jimin? Jimin is not the only member or only person connected to Jungkook who drinks Soju. It was interesting getting yet again another confirmation of just how much the members and people around Jikook know about them being together alot.

*Taekook and Jikook are NOT the same.

I’m sure everyone already knows this but watching the Jeju episodes with Vminkook just once again showed how much of a difference there is between Jk bond with Tae and Jimin.

While some jikookers didn’t like the fact that Tae joined Jikook in Jeju, I loved it because I love seeing vminkook together as they are adorable and also because when they are together, you really get to see the difference in their dynamics. It was very noticeable how Tae and Jk bring out the chaos, playfulness and childishness from each other and they have so much fun doing activities together but you could see clearly that those two just don’t gravitate to each other in the same way Jikook do. By gravitating to each other I don’t mean sitting side by sideto have meals and none of that nonsense taekookers consider people gravitating towards each other. What I mean is, even if Jikook are not seated together, it was easy to see how their eyes searched for each other while they talked. While they all discussed, it was easy to see that Jk’s eyes mostly searched for Jimin’s and vice versa, it was easy to see how they mostly talked to and interacted with each other more during meals even though Tae was there. It was easy to see how they usually stayed with each other after their baths and only went to bed together while Tae always went to bed earlier. It was easy to see how when ever they had meals, Jikook would always look to each other to ask “is it good” regardless of whether they were alone or with Tae. They spoke to each other more, interacted more and even when Jk tasted something that seemed familiar to what he had had before, he looked to Jimin to ask if it was what they had at another restaurant at some point.

They understand each other in ways others don’t. They quickly get each other’s jokes while Tae sometimes looked a little lost. They have the same humor infact, you just cannot miss to see the difference when you pay attention. It was as clear as day and night.

It was also clear that unlike Jikook, taekook don’t really feel the need to be around each other much when they aren’t actively doing anything. We all saw how early tae usually went to bed not caring alot to hang around Jk, we saw how much time he spent on his phone even while they all were together, we all saw how even when Jk got out of the pool just after Tae did in episode 5, he didn’t go to shower at the same time Tae did. We Tae leave to shower and go to bed while Jk stayed behind teasing and playing with Jimin before they showered and later went to bed together around 4am. It was the same thing that happened the night before. Jk was clearly thoughtful of Tae and wanted him to feel included but we could see that he didn’t really feel the need being around him much because if he did he probably would have showered and gone to stay upstairs with Tae but he didn’t. He stayed downstairs with Jimin and they only left for bed together while tae was already asleep. This isn’t new as we know Jikook have always loved spending time alone together at nights and in their quiet moments but it was interesting to see unfold in AYS.

Remember all the times members (especially Tae) mentioned Jikook being together alot at nights? Some people said he lied all those times because he was hiding his relationship but we could all see that happen in AYS. It happened on both nights they were there.

While Jikook have this strong gravitational pull and enjoy being around each other’s vicinity at all times and not just when there are fun activities or other things to be done, we could see that this wasn’t the same with taekook. Tae felt like napping, he went upstairs to nap, Jimin felt like napping, he napped in the living room next to Jungkook who was cooking. Over the years, we have tons of moments where Jk could be seen going to sit or sleep by an already sleeping Jimin. They crave each other’s presence even when they aren’t doing anything but this isn’t the same for taekook and AYS confirmed that once again.

*Jikook are so domestic

Watching AYS, it was so easy to see just how domestic Jikook are. We got an opportunity to have a look into what their lives and days look like when they are not busy being idols and it was the most comforting beautiful thing ever. Them waking up and going to cuddle each other, cooking together eating together, going shopping together with Jungkook disappearing and getting on Jimin’s nerves😂, have little discussion’s together, drinking together, watching and reacting to a show of themselves together, making plans to eat, sleep, shower, play etc together, it was just so perfect. Perfectly and positively boring everyday life yet they looked like they had so much fun doing all of that TOGETHER!

*They have the most random conversations and do the weirdest things

Just jimin casually talking about wanting to sculpt his ass and Jungkook listening attentively😂

Whatever this conversation was……

I don’t know what goes on in their minds

Whatever this was

*Jungkook loves Jimin’s attention /loves to tease him to get it

*Jungkook is inlove with FOOD!

He looks at food like true love😂

*Jikook could be sus sometimes or most of the time tbh

Whatever this was…..

I mean….

This taken out of context…..

Hmmmmmm……

*Jikook like to bicker

They bicker sometimes like an old married couple

*Jimin and Jungkook loved their trips with each other!

Do I even need to explain this? I feel like the entire episode 8 explains this pretty well.

Ok, so these are some of my observations about Jikook from AYS. I might be editing this post in the future to add some more observations as I rewatch the entire show to see if I can catch other things I missed. Consider this my review of the show.

[ghouldtime]

Neighbor! König

Probably can't write a full series for this but for now HEADCANNONS

He initially moved to a residential/suburban area because of his need for privacy. He couldn't stand being in barracks provided because it's too close for comfort and there's just too many people and not enough room

He grew up in a rural village which he would really, greatly prefer but his job doesn't allow him to have that amount of space and no neighbors. The upkeep would be too much

While he doesn't have the full amount of space he'd like, it's enough to keep him busy when he's not deployed and grant him the piece of mind he needs

When he's home and in his 'residential/domestic' mode, he's not wearing the mask. That's a quick way to signal him out and lets be real, it sets off red flags. He'd rather not have the police called on what looks like a very suspicious man, thanks.

Not wearing the mask is also a good way for him to come off of 'work' mode, where he can just be himself, no covering that up.

Plus it's for safety. He knows he's taking a risk by living off of base and he's a man with many enemies. Wearing something trademarked to him in an unprepared environment is a dumb idea and is a great way to end up six feet under

His front yard is pretty minimal but he has a lovely garden in the back. Half the reason he settled on the house that he did was because of the mature trees in the backyard that reminded him of home

When you moved in, König - as much as he didn't want to, made the move to introduce himself. The main motivator wasn't out of politeness but rather necessity. Since he's away for so long, he gives out his personal number and email just in case something happens with the house

He's genuinely surprised when you react positively and even ask if there's anything he'd like you to do when he's away (like collecting his mail, watering any plants)

He's so stumped by that, not having expected such hospitality, that when you ask for his name as you enter in his contact info, his brain short circuits. He tells you it's Kevin, because it's the first K name he could think of that wasn't distinctly Germanic.

Also he doesn't want to bring anyone into his work life. He moved out into the suburbs for a reason. König is who he is on field, that's his callsign. And, once again - safety reasons. If he went around, telling people who he was, he's asking to get another target painted on his back

Though you two initially don't really talk much, you still wave when you see him or wish him a good morning. Even if he's blunt and usually brusque, you never mind it and always try to make polite conversation while respecting his boundaries and need for space

Seeing each other in the mornings becomes routine. You're up for work while he's up tending to his garden (it's better to water early morning, he insists)

He's slow to warm up but when he finally does, he's surprisingly talkative

He really opened up to you because you showed express interest in his garden and flowers alike. You always listened to his advice or would ask specific questions to get him talking and when it came to explaining things, he could talk and talk and talk

The moment he was won over though was when you asked if he'd like help weeding his garden. Taking care of it was therapeutic to him (as tedious as it might be) and wanting to actually come over and spend time with him, even if it was a "chore" made him feel something that day

Being allowed into his yard, his botanical sanctuary, is as great of an award as you can get

He finds it significantly easier to talk when his hands are busy and when there can always be things to talk about (mainly his plants, he's so proud)

You learn of his plants, the fact that he's a private contractor (he conveniently leaves out the military part), and he'll start to actually talk about himself instead of avoiding questions for once

If it weren't from exertion reddening his face already, he's sure he would've turned as red as his tomatoes when you inquired about the off handed comment about his miniatures collection

No one had ever asked him about them - or actually taken them seriously. He's used to people making fun of such hobbies

But not you, you embraced him

Seeing your face light up with amazement and hearing your specific comments about the details he made in replicas of things such as his hometown and some of the fairytale stories he liked as a kid officially had his heart feeling the warm, fuzzy feelings that he usually ignored

The next morning, he was already planting your favorite flowers in his front yard 🪻

(Part Two)

(Part Three)

[hiraethwrote]

contents : gn!reader but written with f!reader in mind, reader is smaller than satoru, mentions and depictions of blood and injuries, hurt/angst to comfort, though the comfort is bittersweet ig, established relationship, fear of losing loved one, ig hinting at spoilers, really rushed so probably bad wc 1.5k an : so this is the canon ending now right? right? (also no tags bc might be spoilery for 271, so just to be sure) comments and reblogs is much appreciated

no words were spoken. you only held one arm around satoru's torso, the other on his chest while you helped guide him into the bathroom. exhaustion was tainting his entire body — you could feel it, how his weight rested against you, strong arm thrown over your shoulders in support.

you sat him down on the edge of the bathtub. his arms hung limp at his side, back curved forward and head angled towards the floor.

there was a lump of nerves forming in your throat. you swallowed it before delicately putting your hands on each side of his face to make him look at you. there was an uneasiness in you that would not be settled until you had his beautiful eyes on you, telling you he would be okay.

blood stains and scars decorating his face, but same cerulean eyes staring back at you. a shaky breath traveled past your lips when you were met with the familiar adoration that was default when he had his attention directed at you. even now — absolutely drained, barely able to keep his balance on the porcelain edge — there was the purest form of love in his eyes. as long as he was able to look at you, there would never be any doubts.

you flashed him a weak and quivering smile, grasping onto every ounce of strength you had to not break down. the love of your life was sitting in front of you barely able to keep his eyes open, beaten and battered after the battle.

up until now, he had stubbornly stayed brave through it all, not once letting his optimism waver for the sake for everyone around him, seeing as everyone was counting on him. and for all these months, he had acted exactly how everyone expected the strongest to act. but you were witnessing how the life threatening events were finally catching up with him.

his head fell forward again once your hands disappeared from his face to grab the hem of his shirt. you felt sick, the fabric turned stale with blood. you didn’t know how much of it was his own or not.

but there was no time to grieve his pain, he needed you right now. carefully you started to tug at his shirt, trying to pull it over his head — it proved difficult, firstly because you had to peel it off his skin, and secondly he didn’t exactly make it easy. “baby, you have to let me help you,” it came out as a plea.

there was a shift in his body, almost able to hear how his muscles creaked when he began to raise his arms. quickly taking advantage of the opportunity, you fisted the gross material and pulled, eventually throwing it aside.

you couldn’t help how you let out a quiet whimper when your eyes landed on his bare chest — cuts, bruises, blood. your boyfriend forever marked from the trauma he had been through, now always serving as a reminder.

pull yourself together, you thought to yourself. there wasn’t room for you to break down right now. you could do that later.

“okay, come on.” you stepped over the edge, gently sliding your arms under his to help him get in the tub. with some struggle and grunts, you eventually had him between your legs. “it’s okay, just relax. i got you,” you whispered into his ear, causing his head to fall back against your shoulder. his eyes were closed, breathing slow and deep.

you were a little lost on what to do next, his stature so massive compared to yours. any movement you did to help him became awkward, finding it hard to manoeuvre your own limbs around him — but you tried your best, grabbing the shower head and turning the water on.

“sorry, sorry, sorry,” you mumble against his temple, his body flinching when the cold water made contact with his skin. it didn’t take too long before you felt his body relax again when the temperature turned bearable.

first you let the water slide down his chest, tenderly rubbing your hands along his skin to get the worst of the stains off of him.

“oh, my satoru, i’m so sorry. i love you.” you continued to whisper affirmations, not even sure he was present enough to actually hear what you were saying.

you filled your cupped hand with water, lifting it to his head, carefully pouring it over his head and brushing his hair out of his face.

then, barely audible, he breathed your name. just your name.

instinctively you squeezed your cheek against him, arms clinging on around him. you own clothes were now soaked, having the water just run over the two of you, but you didn’t care. right now you were solely focused of the sensation of feeling him against you, in your arms, still alive despite it all.

“will you be able to stand?” after half an hour of tenderly scrubbing his body clean and washing his hair, it seemed the warmth of the water had caused some power return to his body. it wasn’t much, but enough for him to get on his feet and step out of the tub with a little help from you.

you had him grab the sink so you would be able to take off your wet clothes. you threw them in the tub, a task for later, leaving you standing in your underwear. that was the least of you worries at the moment, grabbing a towel off the rack before standing in front of him again.

”lean forward, please.” he did as he was told, throwing the towel over his head and you started to dry his hair.

it gave your mind time to run wild, thinking of how close you were to losing him tonight. never be able to trace lines long his skin, never kiss his lips again, waking up in your shared bed alone.

you had subconsciously started to sniffle, fighting the tears. you didn’t want to cry. you wanted to be strong, like he had been for so long. for one evening, you wanted to be the person he had been for everyone else — for you.

his strong hand circled your wrist, abruptly stopping your movements. a grunt escaped him as the towel fell from his head to rest around his neck.

once again his gaze connected with yours, simply taking your breath away. “i’m still here.” his voice was low, raspy, unlike his own.

you blinked away the tears that were so close to spilling over into waterfalls down your cheeks, feeling your chin tremble making it all so much harder.

you nodded, attention flittering between his eyes. he was right, he was after all still here, against all odds. safe. sound. alive.

despite still standing, there was a limited reservoir of energy left in him, evident by how he was fighting to keep his eyes open. “let’s get you to bed.”

again he threw his arm over your shoulders for support before you walked for the bedroom. you took your time, short and staggered steps through the halls that were so eerily quiet. reaching the bedroom, you helped him lay down on the mattress, a long, content exhale of relief leaving him as he finally let his muscles relax completely, melting into the bed.

you didn’t hesitate to climb up next to him, placing your head on his naked chest and draping your arm across his stomach out of habit. you head rose and sank with the slow expansions of his breathing — then you felt it.

his heart — hearing the thumps, feeling the beating against your ear. you couldn’t stifle the tears anymore, running across your nose and landing on his chest. for the entire evening you had seen him move, grunting and growling, occasionally muttering words you couldn’t make out.

but feeling his heart was different, the proof you needed to ground yourself in the reality that he was actually still breathing. you would still be able to feel his embrace when reunited at the end of the day, hear his laugh at the dead of night when you should be sleeping, love him for as long as he was still breathing.

his arms tightened around you, securing you close to him as the sobs started to spill past your lips. “not going anywhere, love,” he mumbled, “you’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

of course he still found it in himself to serve a harmless joke, causing you to huff a sorry excuse for a chuckle between your sobs. “you’re such an idiot.”

his chest vibrated softly under you, hearing a low rumble that was supposed to be a chuckle in return. “sorry.” the audible smirk in his voice actually brought you comfort.

“i love you,” he whispered after a while.

focusing on steadying your voice before opening your mouth to talk. “i love you too.”

“we’ll be okay.”

“i know.”

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[backinmyphase]

Not alone

Synopsis: After your horrible introduction to each other, Satoru and you have finally time to get to know each other on your honeymoon now. That's everything that is happening - surely right?

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader, 2800 words

Series Masterlist

I want to thank all of you for the support and the comments, I'm so happy other people like my writing <33 Anyway I hope you like it!

"I can't believe I really listened to you. What am I doing?"

Gojo grinned to himself and went on as if he didn't hear you.

"To the trainstation, please." He handed the cab driver the destination and sat next to you in the back instead of the front.

And suddenly his body was so close, his presence became impossible to not notice.

"I'm so happy to be able to convince you." He looked out of the window.

He sat so relaxed, legs stretched apart and his body lying comfortably in the seat. How could he be so relaxed?

"They'll freak out. Kill me. And then wipe out my clan. In that order."

Gojo laughed. "Sure they will."

"They really could." You shook your head and looked out the window on your side.

"No, they couldn't. They don't dare do anything to you." His voice was full of confidence.

'If only you knew what they dare to do.' You thought about the letters. 'If only you knew.

"Just forget about them, okay?" You felt his body turn towards you. "It's always just higher ups this, clan that. Just try to relax."

"Yeah, yeah." you whispered and look outside. You could see the pitiful look of the driver from the side mirror outside the car.

What were you thinking? This morning you somehow thought that it wouldn't be so bad to just leave. And Gojo looked at you so full of expectation that you didn't want to disappoint him.

But now?

The only thing you could see as you closed your eyes was the disapproving face of your mother. She wouldn't have done anything that would damage the clan's reputation.

And on top of that the panic began to settle.

You were on your honeymoon. Alone. With your husband. It the higher ups don't kill you, well, they will at least expect a child. Or expect you to expect a child. Doesn't matter.

You couldn't even breath near Gojo out of panic, how could you sleep with him?

He yawned loudly, breaking you away from your thoughts. His eyes half lidded open, he stretched his arms.

Maybe it wasn't just the panic.

You looked outside again to hide the on creeping redness on your face. It just wasn't fair. You weren't made for this, weren't made to be Gojo's wife. He just was so… Gojo and you were… Well you.

The two of you just don't make a good pair.

And surely not a good heir, which will be your doom.

"You look tired." his voice was since yesterday really soothing somehow. "When we are in the train you can sleep."

"Are you sure?" you looked at him as he smiled.

"Yeah, I will wake you up."

You smiled hesitantly back. "Thank you."

~

"What were you thinking? I mean-" your mother paced through the room of the arrangement. "Have I taught you nothing?"

Her voice was loud, piercing, ready to hurt you. As she stood before you, you made yourself ready. "You have to inform the higher ups! Is that to much for you stupid brain?"

"I know mother." your voice trying it's best to be steady as you looked at the ground. "But Gojo…"

She shook her head. "Don't come me with that, it is ridiculous! As if he would be soooo passionate about going with you to the honeymoon! Do you think I'm dumb?"

She looked you in the eyes. "You two are not that close. You prove that every time you talk about him."

"But he was really excited to see…"

"God, stop with your excuses! We are not mad you are on your honeymoon and you know that!" she raised a hand to shut you down. "We are mad because you didn't provide us with information like promised."

You hung your head a bit lower, the guilt pushing you down. You didn't feel guilty because messing up, you felt guilty because you seem to have disappoint her yet again. After she gave you all these chances.

"Yes, mother."

She sighed. Her voice becoming unsteady for a second. Suddenly you felt a cold hand creeping up your back making you shiver.

"You have to get yourself together."

The hand caressing your cheek while wind blew inside your ear. Was there someone beside you?

"All of Jujutsu Society is counting on you right now. A new heir is needed to keep the world balance right. And you are the one needed right now."

The cold fingers went down to your throat. First careful, then more forceful. You wanted to stand up and scream, kick around yourself, but you didn't want to seem that crazy in front of your mother.

"Do you understand?"

Carefully slow your head rose. The hand now pressing down and chocking you slowly.

"Yes, mother."

She smiled. But it wasn't sincere. No, it was her mask smile, the one she kept on when the arrangements occurred. Steady and stern, not revealing anything.

"Well then you can say it to them directly."

The room around you began to spin and transform. Dizziness flooded you, but you were unsure if it came from the sudden change or the deficit of air. Or both.

When you could see through the spinning, a room full of nothingness became clear. The only thing you could decipher was-

"Mrs. Gojo. We thought we were on the same page."

The presence of the higher ups.

You couldn't speak, no everything was blurry and dark and just… Just unbearable. Your body seemed like a prison that kept you there, your mind trying to push out of it.

"Didn't we make ourselves clear?"

You didn't get any air anymore, tears started to dwell up in your eyes. When was the last time you let yourself cry like that?

"Mrs. Gojo. We THOUGHT you knew now of what your importance your marriage to Gojo Satoru is. Why we have to know your decisions."

You hiccuped and almost choked on your tears.

"So WHY did you just LEA-"

A sudden push and pull of your body made you jump. Your eyes now blinking wide open, while the world seemed to keep spinning.

"Hey… Hey! What's wrong??"

You kept your eyes open and the only thing that didn't spin were the eyes in front of you. The sunglasses pulled down, Gojo's blue eyes were wide open. The world around you seemed to stop spinning and you started to feel his close presence.

"Nothing, I'm okay." you looked down and noticed his hands on your shoulders. His grip on you was steady yet still soft.

"Are you kidding me? You were crying in your sleep just now." He tried to look you in the eyes as you looked stubbornly onto the ground.

"I just had a nightmare." you winded yourself out of his soothing grip. "Are we there yet?"

You looked him in the face with your usual mask on, trying to hide the panic in your head. Gojo frowned and looked almost concerned.

"Next station. But are you sure you're okay-"

"Alright, perfect. Thank you." hastily you cut him off, not wanting to go deeper into the topic while you smiled your best 'everything is alright' smile at him.

He swallowed it. For now.

But his hand was still close to your shoulder. And he didn't pull it away. While looking outside he spoke again.

"We will sleep in the little hotel of Hinas Grandmother. It's not far from the train station."

You nodded while trying to calm down from the roller-coaster of emotions you were just on.

"Okay, then let's get our things now. We are almost there."

~

"Gojo, let me carry on thing please." you pleaded while following your husband as he shook his head.

His hand on your suitcases and an additional backpack on his back. "No chance. I'm not letting you carry anything. You are exhausted enough."

You looked around seeing the stares of other people in this small place. It must have been a really odd picture. A big man carrying two suitcases behind him while his wife was just following him. Oh god…

"Please Gojo, people are staring." you whispered to him but he just whistled with a smile on his face.

You sighed and embraced your fate. He was really something.

"There it is!" he nodded in direction of a small old, building. It had charm and you couldn't help but smile.

You opened the doors for your stubborn husband and adored the older structure of the house. And at the counter stood an elderly woman smiling at you. You couldn't help but smile back.

"Good day to you two. Sleeping here for the night?" she spoke calmly and slow. And still had that glint in her eyes.

"Yeah, we have reservations on the name Gojo." Gojo smiled and leaned onto the counter while holding his ID. The woman looked at it and gasped.

"Oh, you were the lovely couple Hina told me about! Of course we have a room for you two. Honeymoon, wasn't it?" she smiled at you.

You wanted to disagree but slowly it dawned to you. She thought you were married. Well, you were married, but she thought you were married because you wanted to.

"Yes, Honeymoon. Took awhile to convince her to go here." Gojo laughed while taking the key.

"Oh, really?" the woman looked at you surprised.

"Well, that's just not right." you gasped while taking your own suitcase before gojo could take it. "I didn't want to leave immediately, but he wanted to just go, go, go."

"Well, Darling, I just couldn't wait." He grinned at you with that sparkle in his eye. "Is that so bad?"

"You know it is-"

The woman laughed and shook her head. "Oh you two…" she swiped a tear away. "Young love is so refreshing."

You couldn't help the blush that was creeping up again, for the second time this day, and just wanted to hide your face forever before he saw you like that. You looked at the stairs.

And there stood Gojo ready to go upstairs. Smiling at you.

You cleared your throat, while hoping to get a grip on to yourself and pulled your things behind you. "Thank you for the lovely Hospitality."

"Oh, any time." she waved as you stood before the stairs. "Just make yourself at home. Just like Hina has a home at yours."

You waved back, while smiling, before pulling your things up. You forgot how heavy it was, since Gojo carried it till here. But you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of asking for his help and proving that you were just as exhausted as he thought.

As you stood before your room you raised an eyebrow at him. "Darling?"

He smiled and turned around to open the room with the key. "Oh, you know. Just slipped."

"Really?" you pulled your things into the room, while following him. He chuckled lightly.

"Yeah. And, well, we are here just a married couple. Not an arrangement for the future of the jujutsu society. So we should act like one."

"Suree." you looked around. And horror began to settle.

You were registered as a married couple. So you had only one big bed. And a normal married couple wouldn't have problems with that, would it?

"I will take the couch." your voice was much more quiet now. It was like they were here, chanting that they need a heir. And you shouldn't be so irrational.

"No way." he shook his head. "You look like you need days of sleep. I'm not letting you sleep on the uncomfortable couch."

"It's not a problem." you walked over to the couch and sat down. It wasn't comfortable, he was right. But who would hurt a little lie?

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow at you. "Let's make a deal."

You looked him in the eyes, in those beautiful eyes. "I'm all ears."

He grinned. "You lie down in the bed for now and sleep till evening while I explore the town. You need the sleep. And later we can discuss who sleeps where."

"I don't have to sleep nooooo-" a yawn interrupted you. "hw. Forget it. Let's do it like you said."

He grinned even wider while handing you the backpack with water inside. "Then make yourself comfortable."

He stood up and took his things and the key. But while pulling the door handle down he stooped.

"Oh, and one thing." he took a book out of the backpack and handed it to you. "I read this before sleeping. Helps me. Even for nightmares. Just in case."

You looked at the title of the book and it said 'Before the coffee gets cold'. A black cat on the cover and you couldn't help but smile.

You looked up at him and chuckled to yourself.

"Thank you, Gojo."

~

You did have problems sleeping. It wasn't that the bed was uncomfortable.

But you couldn't help but think of the things that the higher ups expected you to do on it.

The covers laid heavy on you, while your hand reached for the book Gojo gave you. A chapter couldn't hurt. And maybe he was right and it really helped.

He was really nice to you. He seemed to make an effort right now. And you appreciated that he wanted to make this arrangement easier (since he was really making it hard in the beginning).

And he was so nice and open to you. And he helped you with the luggage and while sleeping. And his eyes were so-

Oh no.

Oh no no no no no no no.

No that wasn't happening right now. Not after you just had a couple of conversations. It couldn't be.

But as you read a couple of sentences and felt yourself relaxing to the story, you knew that it was. You couldn't fight the smile that made it's way onto your face.

God dammit.

~

Satoru was worried about you. You looked like you didn't sleep in weeks even though it could have only been last night. You were stressed.

And as much as he wanted you to relax, he couldn't force anything that would just stress you more.

But it was so nice to see you smile from time to time. After all the silence and hiding was it like fresh wind.

"Oh, Mr. Gojo already going out?" Hina's grandmother smiled at him while going through the oages of the visitor book.

"My wife is tired, and I wanted to explore the town." he made his way to the counter again. "Do you have any advice for good restaurants? Or cafés?"

"Oh, I do." she smiled at him. "Sato's kitchen down the street is lovely. And the atmosphere is perfect for a romantic dinner."

She sighed. "My husband and I went there a couple of times, when we were younger. It's a lovely place. Not cheap. But lovely."

He chuckled at that. "Thank you, that sounds like something we have to check out. And anything for take out? I don't want her to have to move again today."

She laughed. "Aren't you a gentleman! Well if you look for good take out, we have a good ramen shop in the main street."

"Then I have to check it out." He made a little dramatic bow. "Thank you for your wisdom Mrs. Sato."

She made sure it wasn't a problem as he left. And if he has any questions of what to do here with his wife he could just come to her.

And he wouldn't forget that.

~

Your body felt heavy as you heard a quiet creak. Your eyes were shut and your head felt a bit dizzy. You still held the book in your hands as you heard a couple of steps.

"You back, Gojo?" you mumbled, your eyes not wanting to open.

"Yeah, but it's not important just keep sleeping."

You wanted to sit up but your body felt heavy. You groaned as you realized what that meant.

"You tricked me…" you weren't sure he would even understand your mumbling. "I'm sleeping now in the bed, and I can't do anything about it…"

You heard a light chuckle that made your traitor of a heart jump.

"I didn't trick you, we had a deal. And now we decided that you sleep in the bed and I sleep on the couch."

"We didn't decide anything…" your voice became more of a whisper as you felt your consciousness drifting away.

"Well," his voice was suddenly really close. "You only have a say if you drop the last name."

Your eyes opened and looked into his. He sat at the end of the big bed, head on his hands as he looked at you.

"I'm Satoru. We are Gojo." He smiled.

"And as Mrs. Gojo you are not alone."

Your eyes fell shut after that. And maybe you were just imagining that. But it still made you feel traitorous warm inside.

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[changetyre]

Broken ⒾⓈⓌ

SUMMARY: You and Max are having trouble trying to grow your family and your daughters are affected by it. Part of the Verstappen Family Verse

WARNINGS: Angst, miscommunication, pregnancy issues, a smidge of smut at the end.

A/N: This was requested over on Wattpad. Despite the angst, this is one of my favorite parts of this series.

Max stretched out, his back feeling painful after carrying all the presents he'd bought up from the parking lot before stashing them in a high cupboard in the house where he was sure nobody would look. It was late and he'd spent most of the day out looking for gifts, although truly it was also an excuse to get some space since the environment at home wasn't the best right now. 

The house was quiet when he arrived, a good indicator the girls were already asleep in their room and you as well probably. Although only a few months ago there wouldn't be a day you wouldn't wait for Max before going to bed, physically unable to go to sleep without hearing his voice but lately things had changed and you and Max often went to bed without exchanging any words at all. 

Once he finally made his way to your bedroom he wasn't surprised to find you were in fact asleep, clothes scattered around the room which you also hadn't bothered to clean up. Max sighed, he was tired having not really had a day of relaxation since the season ended despite imagining he'd spend his winter holidays differently, that things would somehow get better. 

He proceeded to pick up the room a little bit making it a little more presentable before taking a quick shower and joining you in bed. While his skin screamed to feel yours Max didn't feel comfortable enough to do so anymore, not knowing how you'd react to him placing an arm around you like he had done every night since you'd gotten together..until a few months ago. 

The next morning Max woke up to find you'd woken up but stayed laying there simply staring up at the ceiling, he knew your mind was spiraling but truly didn't want to ask anymore knowing you'd shut him out.  

"Hey," Max asked. His voice almost felt too loud for the silence. 

"Hi." Your voice was barely above a whisper, the sound almost strange to him not used to hearing it often anymore. 

"How d'you sleep?" Max asked. 

"I'm gonna go make breakfast for the girls." you ignored his question avoiding eye contact as you left the room leaving no more space for conversation. 

Once Max got himself ready for the day he went out to join you for breakfast finding you'd already eaten and were in the process of washing the dishes. He'd be lying if he said this didn't hurt him but held back from saying anything not wanting to start an argument. 

The rest of the day was mostly spent in silence apart from the laughter and ruckus from your children there were no words exchanged between you and Max. At some point, Max left the house once more wanting space. 

"Mama," Ivy called you as you played with both your daughters in the balcony. 

"Yeah, baby." Your daughters naturally made you smile, probably the only time you showed any sort of emotion lately. 

"Do you and Papa not love each other anymore?" She asked. 

Your heart skipped a beat, the immediate urge to cry reaching your throat and you only hoped your eyes gave no indication to the sudden burst of emotion. You noticed the way Lea's smile also dropped at the question, her attention ready to hear your answer. 

"Uhm, of course we do baby why would you think that?" You asked hoping your shaky voice didn't worry your daughters. 

"Papa doesn't blink at you anymore...like dis mama." Ivy showed you by blinking her eyes hard three times just like her father used to do to you almost daily before. 

The reminder of this almost broke you, you began picking up the girl's toys making sure they weren't able to see your face properly as you began crying. "You don't have to worry girls, everythings okay with Papa and me." You lied to your daughters, and it was evident by the weakness of your voice but you weren't sure what else to say. 

"Mama, are you okay?" Lea asked this time, her voice filled with concern, she was growing up, she of course noticed things, possibly understood things a little more than her sister and you knew you were hurting her, hurting them both and thought of this killed you inside. 

"I'm fine Lea, why don't you take your sister to your room and watch a movie, I'm gonna shower." You tried your best to force a smile wiping your eyes with the back of your hand before facing your older daughter. 

Lea simply nodded not wanting to cause you more distress before taking Ivy's hand and guiding her away. Once they were gone you let yourself cry it out. 

Trying and failing to conceive another child had been more emotionally draining than you had ever imagined it would be. You and Max had tried, tried, and tired to the point making love to him wasn't exciting anymore, it was frustrating, full of desperation, and so eventually, you stopped. You stopped trying, stopped connecting, stopped loving.  

Silence seemed like the easiest solution, not willing to face the reality of it all. Drowning in your own thoughts was exhausting but it seemed like the better option since potentially hearing the way you let down your partner, your family was worse. 

But it was obvious now, it was obvious how much this was already hurting your family so you had to toughen up now, muster enough strength to talk to Max, talk to your husband, and face whatever was next for you, whether good or bad it had to better than letting your daughters see the way things were falling apart between you. 

___________

Max once again came home to silence, he could hear the TV on in the girl's room and he didn't want to go to his room so instead decided to try to wrap up the presents in secret while he had the time. 

Max was semi-successful, his daughters had walked out of their room and been insistent on wanting to know what Max was doing despite him telling them several times to go back to their rooms and his patience was wearing thin. 

He was only able to get them to stay in their rooms after promising them a play date with their uncle Lando on the weekend if they behaved. Finally knowing they would stay in their rooms Max took the time to try to hide the gifts again so he could put them under the tree by the end of the month. 

He'd headed to the bathroom and when he came back anger and frustration flooded him at seeing Lea helping Ivy up to the counter to try to open the cupboard where he'd stashed the gifts. 

"LEA!" Max yelled letting his emotions control him for the first time with his daughters. 

Lea and Ivy both gasped and Max ran to catch Ivy who almost slipped off the counter trying to get down quickly. 

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING! WERE YOU EVEN THINKING!? YOUR SISTER COULD'VE GOTTEN HURT!" Max yelled at his older daughter. 

You heard the commotion from the room running out to check on the situation. "I WANT YOU BOTH IN YOUR ROOMS, NO TV, NO GAMES, GO STRAIGHT TO BED!" Max continued yelling. 

Both Ivy and Lea were in tears at seeing their dad so angry for the first time in their lives, running straight to their rooms. 

"Max calm down." Your heart broke, you knew Max was never like this with your daughters and it scared you to see this side of him come out, feeling partly guilty for it. 

"Oh wow...so now you decide to talk to me." Max scoffed pushing past you and into your room. 

Your heart broke at the action, but he was right. You knew he needed time to cool off so you headed to your daughter's room to check on them. 

Opening the door you had to try to hold back your own tears at the sight. Lea held Ivy in her arms as they both sobbed. You couldn't say anything to afraid to burst into tears so instead sat by your daughter's bed and hugged them both. 

"I-I-I'm so-so-sorry-ma-ma." Lea hiccuped not being able to catch her own breath at how much she cried. 

This time you felt a few tears run down your cheeks. "Hey baby it's okay." You took her face in your hands trying to soothe her. "Lea honey it's okay." You blew gently on your daughter's face trying to calm her down. 

"Pa-pa's- ang-angr-angry." she continued hiccuping. 

"I know darling he shouldn't have yelled like that baby. He loves you so much, we both do." You reminded her kissing her forehead. 

Eventually, Ivy had fallen asleep crying on her sister's lap so you picked her up and moved her to her bed tucking her in. You then went back to your older daughter who was having a little bit of a harder time settling down. 

"Lea listen sometimes people get angry at other things and they feel so angry for a long time that when something else happens they just blow up and scream." You tried your best to explain to your daughter. 

"Like papa?" She asked. 

"Yeah like Papa Baby, Papa's feeling a lot of things because of something else and unfortunately he just took it out on you." You revealed. 

Little did you know Max was listening from outside, after cooling off a little he felt bad and meant to go apologize to his daughters but stopped once he heard you inside with them. 

"But why?" Lea asked. "Why is papa angry mama?" Lea was almost 6, you knew she was starting to get a better grasp of things and you also knew being honest with her would be the best thing for her right now so after thinking about it for a few seconds you decided to just be honest with her. 

"Do you remember on Ivy's 2nd birthday when she wished for a brother?" You asked your daughter. 

"Yeah," Lea replied moving her head to look up at you. 

"Well your Papa and I after that, after talking a lot tried to make another baby..."Your voice broke. 

Max's heart broke at hearing you struggle to speak. 

"Well, we tried for a long time and Mama just couldn't get another baby in her tummy which made both Mama and Papa really really sad." You revealed. 

"Why won't the baby go in your tummy mama?" Lea asked innocently, reaching for her little hand to wipe some tears off your cheek. 

"I don't know baby, maybe mommy's broken." You were full-on crying but you could see your daughter's understanding eyes at the situation. 

"Is that why Papa doesn't say I love you with his eyes anymore?" Lea asked again, oblivious to the impact her question had on her parents. Max fell to his knees outside the room distraught at the guilt he could hear in your voice, and about the fact that his daughters and possibly you thought he didn't love you anymore. 

"I don't know honey...maybe. It's not easy when you want something really really bad and you just can't get it so it can make you feel a lot of things, mommy feels like it's her fault that the baby doesn't want to go in her tummy." You tried to finish explaining. 

"I'm sorry Mama." Lea apologized once more. "But even if you are broken mama I'll still love you the same, I'll even say it with my eyes if you want." Lea smiled imitating her dad by blinking her eyes I love you just like her dad used to do. 

This time your tears were of gratitude at feeling the love your daughter had for you, the simplicity with which her mind understood the situation and tried to make you feel better. "Thank you, baby." You hugged your daughter placing kisses on her cheek. 

Lea settled enough, feeling a little better at understanding why things had been a little weird at home lately. You watched her fall asleep. You took a deep breath ready to have a difficult conversation with your husband praying it might go a little similar to the conversation you had with your daughter. 

You walked out of their room and were surprised to find Max sitting outside, his back to the wall with his face in his hands. You could tell he'd been crying from the wet spots on his shirt and trousers. 

"Maxy." You fell to your knees beside him. 

Max pulled his hands away as you both wrapped your arms around each other at the same time. You both started crying in each other's arms, Max holding you tightly against him. 

"You're not broken, I never thought so either I just wanted you to talk to me." He whispered. "I love you so much and I'm sorry I ever let you doubt it, and I'm sorry for screaming at Ivy and Lea, I'm just- I'm so sorry for everything" Max cried tucking his face in the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I felt so useless and frustrated I couldn't get pregnant. I know how long you've been trying to hold it together for us, for all of us and I shouldn't have ever let you carry all of it on your own. I'm sorry too for everything."  You also apologized. "I love you, Max, I don't think I'll ever be able to stop loving you I just wanted to give us another baby." 

"I know." Max sighed pulling back and wiping tears from under your eyes with his thumbs. "Look I would love to have another baby with you, I'd have a 100 if it was with you but I'm so enamored by the family you've given me already, our girls...they're the best thing that have ever happened to me and if trying to have another baby is gonna cost us...us...than I don't want it." Max was honest. 

You nodded agreeing with his words. 

"It doesn't mean we stop trying, we can if that's what you want but I just want you back first, I need us to be okay before trying again okay?" He asked you. 

"Yeah." You agreed once more. 

Max rested his forehead against yours. You heard him take a deep breath. "God I missed you." he sighed before leaning down to place his lips against yours. 

You kissed him back harshly almost desperate to taste him again mentally questioning yourself how you were able to survive without this for as long as you did. "I love you," you whispered as you momentarily pulled away to catch your breath. 

But Max kept kissing you not wanting for this to stop, as if his body was trying to catch up on all the time he spent without your touch. "I love you." He whispered back scooping you into his lap, your legs wrapping around him as he stood up with you in his arms before taking you to your bedroom. 

Laying you down on your shared bed it once again felt right, being shared with him. Max was quick to get you naked, teasing you as he prepared you for him.

"I adore you." He whispered as he slipped into you. You'd be okay.