#There's just a lot of great stuff in there that people slept because.... What? It Got Silly? The show about the zombies....?

[lydiduh]

The walking dead is fucking incredible and weird and campy and well and above one of the best current TV shows and I will stand by that people who were turned off by a shitty season or two are weak and they're missing a genuinely fun experience

[lucysarah-c]

Levi's horrible flirting skills part 8.

Masterlist link to all the previous parts.

“So... King’s anniversary’s coronation. Are you coming?” Erwin casually dropped the question without a clear addressee, or at least in Levi’s opinion, as he played with a pen while waiting for the early morning meeting to end. He had only slept a very counted number of hours. 

But as the silence reigned, it made him raise his attention, fearing that the question was directed at him. And indeed, it was. Erwin was looking at him. 

“Are you coming?” Erwin insisted. “I don’t think I’ve to remind you how important this event is.” 

Escaping the intense blue eyes, Levi pretended to be interested in anything else inside the room. “I... I’m rather busy. I’ve got a lot of delayed paperwork I should work on over the weekend.” 

The commander looked exhausted as he stared back at him, the invitation slowly dropping onto the table. “I’m sure your boss, me, wouldn’t mind you presenting your work a couple of days later.” 

“You don’t know my boss.” 

Erwin sighed loudly and put away the letter with the invitation. “You know, very influential and powerful people attend these events. It would be great for the Scouts’ economy if you could go and land us some donations.” 

He passed his plus-one invitation to Hange so they could try to get some donations for their titan investigations. Levi fought the urge to roll his eyes as Erwin’s speech was so frequent and repeated, like a mother angry at returning home to find the dishes not cleaned. 

“You know that me and influential filthy pigs don’t get along.” 

“Hey, I’ve been part of the Scouts longer, and he gets his own invitation while I get a plus-one?” The brunette complained. 

“’Cause you’re not Humanity’s strongest?” Levi asked back with a raised eyebrow. “If you want it, I’ll gladly give you that stupid invitation.” 

“Ugh, since that title landed you a date with that nurse of yours, you’ve gotten cocky about it,” Hange pointed out playfully, intending to get on Levi’s last nerve. 

Erwin chuckled as Levi squinted his eyes. “She didn’t go out with me because of it.” 

“Not even you believe that,” unlikely of him, Erwin joined in on the joke, making Levi roll his eyes and frown deeply. 

“You two are just so fucking jealous. When was the last time any of your titles or medals got you a chick?” 

The other two’s silence spoke volumes as they searched for a proper comeback. 

He began to notice the small changes, like when they met again in a hallway. She greeted him first over Erwin and, very important detail, she still called him “captain,” but Levi swore it had an underlying sexy accent to it... or at least that’s what he liked to believe. 

The first rule in the animal world is to land her interest; the second one? Maintain it. That means marking territory. This time subtly, he was not committing the same mistake twice. 

How many hours was Levi sleeping to manage getting his paperwork done, his work as a captain, and trying to pay her as many visits as he could when he was over at the Capital for meetings? None, but at least he made sure a good couple of the MPs, who also walked around the hospital trying to land a nurse girlfriend, would think twice before approaching her. 

“You want scones? It was my day for buying supplies for the staff room,” she commented while moving around, preparing tea. Levi was there doing paperwork he brought with him. Balancing both of their schedules wasn’t particularly easy, and perhaps that’s why their second date was just going to be a little after-work dinner. 

‘Maybe... it’s my moment to casually imply that I don’t have a sweet tooth.’ 

“I don’t like sweet stuff, actually.” 

‘...great, just great.’ 

The confusion was all over her face as she turned around. “Oh...” she softly frowned as she gave it a deeper thought, “...but I gifted you a cake.” 

“Yeah.” 

Lips pressed together as she stared at him. “You could just tell me.” 

‘Yeah well, the time I tried to just tell ya, you got angry at me for a good fucking time, so perhaps it wasn’t the best idea.’ 

How many times had he seen the same picture he had right in front of him, only separated by a couple of steps? Eyes rolling and clicking his tongue, finding it so idiotic that it was even annoying. The only sort of speech he could come up with for his own defense was that “he wasn’t in service,” and usually they were. 

Yes, they. Military police members walking around downtown without the jackets of the uniform on, but instead, the green unicorn swinging as any of their girls walked around with them on their shoulders. 

There she was, the wings of freedom adorning her back. The sleeves weren’t on, just the shoulder pads casually resting on hers, preventing it from falling but not secured enough. ‘It’s like too cold... but too warm for my coat,’ she had mentioned as they exited the building, doing honor to the season where taking the winter coat early in the morning is a good idea but, by afternoon, it hangs on your arm. 

“Here,” he had said, and before he knew it, he was seeing her walking slightly ahead of him with the jackets contrasting against her doveish uniform. 

Marking territory, isn’t it all about that? Especially at the Capital, where all the MPs are looking at them as if they were the most absurd of all couples or perhaps it’s just plain jealousy. 

“You’re going to love them! The food is so good, and the portions are huge,” she commented behind him as she guided him through streets it was rather obvious she knew better than him. As the sky turned coral, with days getting longer, the golden hour only helped highlight how cute he found her like that. 

‘I’ve become what I swore to destroy...’ 

“I’m asking for a small one because if I eat too much, I am gonna fall asleep, and today I’ve got night service,” she commented, looking at the options at the street stand. 

‘Thank god her suggestion wasn’t some stupidly fancy shop at Mitras that would force me to eat plain rice for the rest of the month.’ 

“You work tonight?” he commented back as he decided what to eat. 

“Yes, there are a lot of mothers who reported feeling contractions. I may be working all night,” she replied before pointing, “If you like spicy, those sauces are great.” 

He handed the money to the owner as he received both options and passed hers forward with his left hand. 

“Thank you~” she sang, smiling back at him. 

“You’re welcome,” he muttered as he put away the change back in his wallet. 

‘Havin’ a girlfriend is expensive.’ 

He felt the tug from his arm as she gripped his hand and began to guide him. “Come on, I know a good spot at the park,” she said enthusiastically as she hand-hold dragged him. 

Her hand felt stupidly soft against his, he thought, and delicate as if the absurd feeling of breaking it crossed his mind. 

‘...but 100% worth it.’ 

He let her drag him, mostly because she could hardly even dream of moving him if he refused, but if she wished to get him somewhere, he would just let her have it. 

‘I’ve to give it to them... the Capital is full of classist snob jerks, but the places are fucking nice,’ he thought, recalling how the downtown closer to the Scouts’ facility at  

Wall Rose always smelled like horse dung, the little poor town always looked a bit grey, and there wasn’t much to do there. In contrast, the huge park with well-kept green grass, flowers, kids with expensive uniforms, statues, and decorated benches like the one they were sitting on marked a difference, especially since that place received the early spring sun directly. 

‘There go my taxes.’ 

“MH-” she hummed, passing down a bite from her meal, “You want to taste mine?” 

Pushing her option in his direction for him to take a bite, Levi checked their surroundings and felt the shame of perhaps someone seeing him doing that, but he soon began to suspect that keeping a relationship would require him to start doing a lot of embarrassing stuff. He took one bite and hummed in agreement. 

Swallowing, he said with his usual monotone voice, “Wanna taste mine?” 

As she bent forward to take a bite, Levi forced himself to look away as perhaps there were too many kids around to even think it. 

‘Why when she offers it, it’s cute, and when I do it, I sound like a fucking pervert?’ 

“Mhhm, very good, I like yours. It’s more creamy!” 

‘...stop it, please.’ 

As they ate, he asked, “Do you like kids?” 

She turned around, confused, almost shocked. “Fuck—no. I didn’t mean it like that,” Levi quickly realized how odd that sounded. “I mean, the Midwife path is hard, so you must like kids a lot.” 

‘I mean if you want to reply to the other question, it’s also valid... I like kids very fucking much, let me know when you’re willing to start practicing,’ he thought. 

“Ah!” she exclaimed, understanding he referred to their previous conversation about her prospects of work tonight. “I became an orphan very young; both of my parents were very old when they decided to have me, so they passed away before I finished my studies. And midwifery is a very necessary but judged profession. Most of my coworkers can’t do it because their husbands or fathers think it’s inappropriate for a girl to be around strangers’ houses in the middle of the night.” 

“So... since I’ve nobody to tell me what I can or can’t do, I decided I should do it,” she replied to him. “This is a good time to tell you, I guess, that I’m not dropping my career.” 

Levi shook his head. “I don’t mind it.” 

“That’s why I went to Erwin’s office the other time,” she commented, making Levi frown, recalling the scene. “He was helping me write a project to present to the higher ranks.” 

Her enthusiasm dropped slightly. “But... they didn’t accept it. I felt so bad.” 

“Ah, that was why you were all weeping when we returned from the expedition?” he dropped the detail, but mostly because the idea was still lingering in his head. 

One hand covered her mouth, and then she blushed. “Ah! You saw that?! So embarrassing,” she said, giving a subtle little hit on his arm playfully. “Why didn’t those morons accept it?” 

She shrugged with a soft sigh. “They said something about the government resources not being enough for that proposal.” 

“Tch, they have money for their stupid events but not for this? What did you propose?” 

“Ugh... mh.hmp,” she seemed reluctant to reply and hummed incoherently. “I... don’t want to offend you.” 

Levi frowned deeply but raised a single eyebrow as a silent question. 

“It was about doing campaigns of pre-natal check-ups on the underground pregnant women. Sometimes they have difficult pregnancies, and the lucky ones are dragged up here if they have some connections when the situation is already unsalvageable. The pre-natal non-permanent posts are all around the walls except there... but, well, I told you their resolution,” she scratched the side of her neck nervously as she explained.  

“Probably because we will have to bring security to go, and MPs do not want to participate.” 

“Why would that offend me?” Levi spat out the question as her nervousness appeared ridiculous. 

“Oh well... I thought that perhaps it’s a sensitive topic for you, and I didn’t want to ruin the mood.” 

“I’m not that soft,” Levi replied quietly, but he felt completely different. He knew she was kind-hearted, but it warmed him that, despite the idea not reaching far, at least there were people trying to change something. “You should keep trying until those assholes listen to you.” 

She hummed positively. “You could try to change their minds,” she suggested between chuckles. 

Levi scoffed. “Talk to Erwin; he’s the one who doesn’t allow me to beat their asses.” 

‘Everything is going so well... it’s suspicious.’ 

“Oh! Careful!” she said, catching his attention before she ran her finger through his chin and then sucked it clean. “You’re going to dirty your shirt’s neck.” 

‘... just let me fuck you already, I’m on my knees.’ 

“I was thinking...” she started, turning around to look at him, doll eyes and a cheeky smile. “Maybe we could hang out this upcoming weekend. The celebrations for the king’s coronation will be ongoing all night all around the walls. I thought that maybe we could stroll around too.” 

Levi was already sweating cold; she was taking the initiative, inviting him out... there was only one issue. 

“Wouldn’t it be nice?” 

“Ehm—” 

‘Think of an excuse, you asshole.’ 

“I... I actually have to stay at my place that weekend,” he said, but his last words were quickly followed by a soft pout, puppy eyes, and a subtle “Ow,” from her. Levi wasn’t usually a person to give excuses or unnecessarily explain himself. 

‘Oh shit, it’s not that I don’t want to—it’s just that—’ 

“I had this stupid invitation to the higher-ranks party whatsoever and—” 

‘And I’m kinda escaping my responsibility of attending that shitty party that’s why—oh... oh no,’ he thought. 

Her eyes began to shine, and the smile returned to her features. “Oh my god, you’re going to the official party?” 

‘No... no I wasn’t going—that’s the whole point,’ he thought. 

“I always wanted to go to one of those,” she said with a dreamy stare, her voice subtle and soft, almost begging but not quite. 

‘No, for fuck’s sake, don’t look at me like that.’ 

— 

“These are the preparations for the upcoming week, and I’ve already reviewed your paperwork, and they seem alright,” Erwin reorganized the piles of paper in front of him quickly for the other soldier. 

Slender fingers picked it up, returning to the door’s direction, yet the pace was rather odd, and the fingers tapped the new papers with uneasiness. Erwin didn’t pay it much mind as he returned to filling out the multiple letters he needed to get ready so they would be sent first thing the upcoming morning. Spreading dust over the black ink so it would dry quicker, his movements were controlled yet rushed. 

“So... I was wondering... do you still have that invitation?” 

Those words made the blond freeze up mid-movement. He slowly looked up at Levi, who was standing in the middle of his office. Each second that passed, announced by the clock, changed the Commander’s expression from confused to angry as his thick eyebrows drew together. 

Straightening up but not saying a word, his fingers intertwined. “Tell me, Levi... how many years have you worked with the scouts?” 

“Tch,” Levi switched his weight from one leg to the other, arms crossing on top of his chest. Levi rolled his eyes, annoyed, “What does that even matter? Five.” 

“Ah, yes, I see,” Erwin muttered as if he didn’t already know the answer. “And how many balls, parties, and official events have you been invited to?” 

The Captain had a feeling where this was going and only frowned deeply. “Many... all of them.” 

“Yes, that’s correct,” the blond confirmed slowly as if the information needed to sink in. “You see, I’m asking because it seems like I must be losing my memory... because I can’t recall a single damn time you went to any of those events without me having to coerce you into it.” 

“When I don’t go to those shitty events, it’s about me not supporting the scouts. When I decide to fucking go, it’s also an issue?” 

“No, no, no, no,” Erwin clicked his tongue repeatedly, “You didn’t decide to go... she wants to go, isn’t it?” 

Silence. Reigning silence. 

“Are you making me a jealousy scene?” Levi raised an eyebrow, confused. 

“No, I just can’t believe that as your boss and friend, I’ve begged you all this time to go to those events, and you’re going because a girl—my friend—asked you to. You’re so henpecked it should give you secondhand embarrassment.” 

“Fine! Yes, yes, I’m doing it for her. Happy?” Levi replied, offended. “In a week and a half, we’re leaving for an expedition, and I’ve not even seen a shitty ankle! Fucking excuse me for trying to get laid before I risk my life out there with one of your suicidal plans! Maybe I should get out of here and ask Mike what type of stupid bullshit you did to get Marie’s attention.” 

The battle of stares was over when, reluctantly, Erwin pulled out the invitation from his drawer and handed it over, “Here, thank you for reconsidering it.” 

“You’re welcome... I’m in favor of the plans for the upcoming expedition, by the way,” Levi walked back to the desk to pick up the letter and replied as he took the piece of paper with him. 

“Glad to hear.” 

And the two of them carried on with their responsibilities as if neither of them had ever mentioned anything. 

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[junedenim]

it's three in the morning

for the long haul

warnings: piv, eating, pregnancy piv, mild dad!alex, and probably some other stuff too

word count: 8.8k

There was an attitude when you first met that you each would hold a sense of permanence in each other's lives. It wasn't completely romantic at first. You and Alex met through a series of shared friends.

This was 2013 and you were both otherwise occupied with separate relationships. His was longer and much more stable. Yours was a short passionate fury that ended by early 2014. Coincidentally, as did his.

But still, it wasn't a direct rebound. He was touring and when the band stopped in New York—your home at the time—you stuck around at the after-party with Alex. Nothing much happened there other than a questionable conversation three rounds in.

"It's all speeding up," he said. It was drunk talk and you weren't paying attention to the idea he had spoken before it but you tried your best to follow after. His body came closer and huddled so close to yours, which was excusable in the February chill, but debatable with the indoor heating.

He slung an arm over your shoulder and, with great camaraderie, you slid your arm behind his back; a "friendly" side hug. "Time is weird," you said.

Alex looked at you. His eyes were alcohol-glazy but his soul was bursting to say something. You could both feel the unsaid left lingering and his head moved forward at one point as if he were going to kiss you but it was then decided he would hesitate on that front.

He chuckled through his nose as if some joke had been made before turning his head to look at the buzzing partiers. He nodded at something and you weren't sure if it was related to your statement or not. You took another sip of your vodka Coke and he said, "Timing is everything."

He slipped away from you after that and it's possible he slept with someone else that night but you aren't sure. You don't even know if he would remember. He slept with a lot of people in 2014. It was a messy time.

Later in the year, toward the end of July, he called you from Iowa. Despite the hour, somewhere in the early morning, neither of you was drunk. Alex's sleep schedule had little idea of the concept of time with the mad case of severe jet lag he could be diagnosed with and you, well, you were asleep but you acted like it was normal for him to wake you up at 3 AM.

"Where in Iowa are you from?" He asked. Neither of you had really gotten to know one another. Not those small details. You knew he was from Sheffield but you don't know what college he went to or his parents' names or if he's ever broken a bone. Your relationship had never been built on knowing each other. It was always just about feeling each other. You had always gotten on well, never fought, always laughed, slung arms around one another, and thought about the maybes.

"Why do you ask?" You laughed at the idea of him calling you in the dead of night, sitting outside his tour bus, smoking a cigarette, talking about your tiny hometown.

"We're playing there tomorrow. Council Bluffs or something. You're the only person I know from Iowa." You told him that the first night you met and he latched onto it like it was some lie you told to impress people because people are usually so impressed with the concept of being a Hawkeye. Although, he never got more information about it. He didn't know that you grew up on a corn farm and you learned how to drive your dad's truck at 9 years old.

You scoffed, "Council Bluffs. You might as well just be in Nebraska."

He chuckled. "Sorry. I'll plan it out better for you next time."

"I'm from Beaman. It's close to the center. Very small town," you told him. "But there's a library and a basketball court that becomes an ice skating rink in the winter. It was dull but I liked it."

"Sounds like a nice place to grow up." You shrugged, not that he'd be able to see it. An air of silence hung over the conversation and you're not sure if he was waiting for you to say something in return. And then he suddenly said, "I've been thinking about you. Not just in Iowa."

You weren't sure what that meant. He was still so new to you and a one-on-one phone call had never been done before. You couldn't yet tell what he was trying to convey through the tone of his voice if this was some playful thing, a joke or something serious, a flirtation. "Why?" You questioned.

It was silent and you imagined him shrugging but you'd never know for sure if he did or not. Eventually, he answered, "Guess I just missed you. Is that allowed?" It was rolled in humour and tucked in a laugh so you took it as a joking sweetness. Some sense of sincerity lingered but it wasn't packed with desperation.

So, you told him you missed him too and hopefully you'd hang out again soon. The conversation ended and soon wasn't around the corner. You kept in touch, by text and through friends, but he didn't return from the road until November and you weren't yet one of the people he would hang out with as soon as he was back, especially since you were in New York and he was in LA when he wasn't on the other side of the pond.

But then you moved to LA, right at the beginning of 2015. Truthfully, it was for your boyfriend. It was an awful idea and you knew it. You had only been dating the guy for a few months and retrospectively it was never serious but in the moment fantasy and blurred visions came to mind and they took the wheel from you. Besides, you had a career that you could do anywhere, most of your friends were in LA, and there was, of course, Alex.

At a shared friend's birthday party, you saw Alex again through a barrier of smoke. Your boyfriend was off in the bathroom and Alex was pushing himself off the wall with a drunken stumble and throwing his arms around you.

"Huck told me you'd be here. Told me you're out in LA. How come you didn't tell me?" His words were rolling out of him quickly with little care where they ended up.

You did your best to reciprocate the hug and follow his sloppy manner as he leaned back against the wall. You stirred your gin & tonic with the flick of your wrist, still sober having just arrived. "It's all been hectic. We're just starting to settle out here."

His eyes drifted away, looking behind you, and when the cold hand touched your back you realized what he was looking at. "Yeah, well, once you are, we should get together or something. Alex, by the way." He waved to your boyfriend, staying against the wall this time. He looked like he was having trouble keeping his eyes open but his speech was clear with no slurring sounded.

You put your arm around your boyfriend's back, returning his hold. "I'd like that. We'll probably have some housewarming party at some point so..."

Alex hummed his acknowledgment like words were becoming too much work. He brought the spliff to his lips and the smell of marijuana began to give you a headache and a craving at the same time. Someone tapped him on the shoulder, pulling him away from you. It took a moment of staring before you moved to find residency on the couch, but more lingered in the air than just the smell of weed. Uncertainty persisted.

A month later, the house had been settled and a housewarming party occurred but Alex didn't attend. He had said he was out of town but you're not sure where out of town. It didn't matter much. You didn't live in that house for very long.

It would seem like fate stepped in at some point or a mere happenstance that the night you and your boyfriend broke up everyone in the world seemed to be busy. Friends were away for the weekend or had guests staying with them or simply didn't pick up their phones at 2 AM. But Alex did.

When you arrived at his house, he was peculiarly waiting in his driveway. His hands were on his hips and his head cocked in a way that some might interpret as pissed but you knew it was just his resting position.

Your unaffected nature could also be misinterpreted. You didn't feel the urge to cry, and though you were upset at the demise of a loving relationship, it didn't provoke your tear ducts and you remained indifferent.

After exiting your car, he asked, "Are you okay?"

And it was easy to nod and answer, "Truthfully, yes." It's probably easier to feel this way when you are the one who initiated the break-up.

It's also easy to feel that way when instead of going to bed you're accompanied by Alex and drinks. No rejection was involved when downing a bottle of hard liquor, especially when Alex seemed to have it stockpiled. You both operated better drunk, which could have been alarming to an outsider, but for you and Alex it was understandable. It wasn't used as coping, each other was used for that. The alcohol was just an additional treat.

"It's hard to not feel like I'm wasting away my youth," you told him, leaning your head on the back of the couch.

He was on the opposite end, cigarette stuck in his mouth as he spoke, "You're still young."

"Not forever," you lamented. "I guess that's the thing. I'm not particularly pissed it's over. I think I did us both a favour but I'm pissed about running out of time for these things. I mean, I moved across the country for this guy. I used to have fun with guys! Now I'm just following them places and desperately trying to play the role of wife. Like, who am I?"

Alex openly laughed in response.

You giggled in return, "Don't laugh at me."

He shook his head, removing smoke and cigarette from his lips. "I think you're getting worked up over nothing."

"Maybe." You shrugged. "But I don't think so. I don't know what I'm saying. Wait, yes, I do." Alex laughed again. "I'm saying I want to have fun again."

"Right." He nods.

His eyes locked with yours and once his cigarette was stubbed out and the bottle you had been clutching was placed down on the coffee table, his lips then locked with yours. It was harsh and rough like every drunk kiss that had occurred before in history.

It must have been around 4 AM at this point and everything felt hungry. Like this was—he was—your midnight snack. This is when desperation occurs. The quick need for satisfaction with no care about the journey to get there.

Alex's arms clutched around your lower back up to your shoulder blades, pulling you on top of him. Her hands grasped around the endpoints of his sharp jaw making it impossible to be stuck in a heated makeout. You straddled him but it was hard (in two ways) to not feel frustrated quickly.

You reached down, swiping your hands along his chest, and landing on the button of his jeans. Everything must come undone and he understood that perfectly. You didn't even bother to pull his zipper down, instead reaching your hand into his underwear and letting the force drag the zipper apart.

He pulled your hand out just so you could get your top off of you and while your arms were up in the air, you grind on him and soft moans escaped, swallowing it up when your lips reunited. He was a master at unclasping a bra and had easy access to your pussy through your small skirt made up of flowy material.

Your hand made small movements around his cock and his fingers grazed through your folds and he seemed to want to do a version of shared masturbation but you ached for something stronger. You lifted yourself off of him to remove your skirt and panties. He shuffled just enough to kick his jeans and underwear off the bottom of his feet. You finished reaching nudity at the same time.

Alex didn't allow you to straddle him again, pushing you onto your back as he took off his shirt. His nude body hovered over you and the back of your head hit the arm of the couch. You curled your legs around him, pushing his hips toward yours. Everything is non-verbal, all performed through signs. You've always been on the same wavelength and it feels like words would have ruined this and made this all seem questionable.

He quit the foreplay of kissing your neck and pinching your breasts and became rough like this is what you wanted, now shut up and take it. He was in you and on top of you and it's exactly what you wanted: fun. He could be described as a pleasurable jackhammer as he moved in and out of you. Everything was hard and skin was slapping but you're both moaning and none of it was silent whimpers. It was shouts of "Fuck!" and "Harder!" and "Holy shit!" and "Right there!"

It's all responded to correctly. You nipped at his neck and toward the end, he reached down to rub your clit. It's all masterfully done on both of your parts. Your walls clenched around his dick and he stretched you open to a degree that has you grasping at the couch cushions until you've come. Then, he pulled out of you, letting it all go, straight onto your stomach.

Exhaustion and complete silence fell. Alex laid back on his side of the couch, panting. A few breaths passed before he rose and grabbed a rag from the kitchen, wiping his cum off you.

"Is that your cum towel?" You joked.

His face broke a smirk and he nodded. A question hung in the air of what to do next, stuck in the middle of his hot living room. He towered over you as you sat up, slowly adjusting. He folded the rag up in his hand and then asked, "You wanna use it again?"

Laughter erupted from you but you did end up using it again the next time in his bedroom, which allowed comfort and greater sensuality. It was less rushed but left you both exhausted by the end of it. You slept like rag dolls, limbs hanging over one another, and powerful sleep.

In the morning (or afternoon, you're unsure), with your bodies connected, you both awoke around the same time, blinking away sleep and finding his eyes doing the same. Your unsaid nature returned and you weren't sure if you should even leave the bed or if you should be racing out the front door.

"Thanks for letting me stay," you whispered with tired vocal chords.

He shuffled closer, sheets rustling, and licking away sleep. "Course," he croaked. "You could stay forever."

It might have meant more, especially after fucking each other, but it felt more like a favour than a request. You ate breakfast together before you left, no goodbye kisses, and he said goodbye at the door instead of walking you to your car. Two weeks later, he joined you and a group of friends for drinks where you shared light small talk and he bought a round. You left for New York two days later with no acknowledgment of anything more. It just was what it was and neither of you was hurt by that, but both of you still felt longing for it to be otherwise.

In the heat of summer, you visited LA and met up with Alex for dinner. The LA visit was more for business but you decided to sort out the personal while you're there. His hair was longer, cut around the ears, no longer greased back. It's a reminder of that morning when everything was thrown about without care. He was dressed in a white button-down that was unbuttoned enough to have a clear view of the chain that hung around his neck and his seductiveness was so clear you have a hard time believing he didn't know exactly how this night was going to end.

There was small talk but Alex was quick to cut through the bullshit and get to the heart of things. "We've never had dinner together before," he said. "Not just the two of us." A smirk played on his face and lewd images flashed in your mind.

You sipped your wine as a coping mechanism and leaned back in your chair. You needed to be far from him, at least for now. Playing it cool was the main goal. "Are you telling me you don't want to hang out with me?"

"Oh, I want to hang out with you but I was thinking of something much different."

Intentions were clear and things were laid out on the table so when he invited you back to his house for drinks, you had no issue with him stopping in an abandoned parking lot so you could fuck each other.

Because fucking was easy and you always felt things together instead of knowing things together. So, when he takes you in the backseat, confined, and hot & heavy, it feels romantic for something usually so drenched in the word "dirty."

The leather seats stick against your sweaty back while he undoes his belt and then his trousers before sliding your underwear aside and going into you. The AC is blasting but you don't feel it and there's a lightheaded feeling likely from wine and dehydration but you blame the way his cock hits that spot in you.

The rest of the drive isn't awkward and that's when things started to feel different. It became clear that the sense of permanence with one another wasn't a platonic coincidence of sharing friends but something much more loving. You laughed that his car radio was stuck on the sports channel and made fun of the baseball announcers shouting over the Dodgers losing to the Phillies.

Before this shift, you expected to continue your intense rush to instant passion; fucking in the hallway, fucking in the living room, fucking in the kitchen, fucking on the bathroom floor, fucking in the shower, fucking in his bed, fucking against a wall, fucking on the washing machine, fucking on the ceiling if you could. Instead, you watched the rest of the Dodgers v. Phillies game, despite knowing little about baseball and Alex's knowledge reliant on Bad News Bears and high school phys ed.

Besides, little attention was paid to the game itself. He drank a beer and made you a vodka Coke and baseball is boring and Alex had suddenly become everything.

"There's a reason baseball is America's pastime," you commented. "Who the fuck wants to sit and watch this all day?"

Alex shrugged, a smile playing on his cheeks. "It's fun when they get a home run."

"It's fun when I get a strike in bowling, doesn't mean everyone wants to sit and watch me," I struck back.

He chuckled, wiping his beer lip. "You like bowling?"

"Yeah. My dad used to set up empty cans and have us play. The nearest bowling alley was 45 minutes away so we went there on special occasions."

Alex smiled, completely charmed, and that's when you started knowing each other. Later, you walked to his bedroom and had sex and while it was passionate, it had lost its spontaneity quality, which didn't lessen it, instead changing it into something new.

The following morning, you took his old words of "stay forever" to heart and never left LA. Your return move to LA was mocked by your friends for your coming-and-going nature and moving everything all over again was a pain in the ass but Alex flew to New York and helped pack your things. When you moved into your new place, Alex helped you unpack and helped "Christen the place," as he put it by going down on you on those marble kitchen counters.

Separate places felt ideal not to rush things, but soon it seemed wasteful as most nights were spent at Alex's. You weren't a big fan of your new place in comparison to Alex'ss, which wasn't shocking. Alex had a pool for Christ's sake.

Although, it still felt like the best fit. You didn't like how much Alex smoked and Alex didn't like how messy you were. While technically not living together, you fought over these things like you did.

Smoking usually went:

"It's my house. I can do it however much I want to!"

"You're going to ruin the house by smoking inside it!"

"I paid for it!"

"You're killing yourself!"

"It's my lungs!"

"I'm gonna die from secondhand smoking!"

Messiness usually went:

"You can't come over and trash my house!"

"It's barely anything! If you let me have a drawer this wouldn't be a problem!"

"It's not just your clothes! You leave dirty dishes everywhere!"

"I get to it eventually!"

"So do the rats!"

But all and all, it always ended relatively positively. Alex took to smoking on his balcony more and you would join him from time to time. You didn't really clean up more, but Alex did give you a top drawer in his dresser.

At the beginning of December, you both attended a Christmas party, where you and Alex wore a Santa hat you bought at Party City because neither of you owned anything festive. However, everyone at the party considered it to make you the cutest couple there. You both thought it was rather cheesy but you leaned into the cliche of it and got drunk off eggnog and roleplayed Mr. & Mrs. Claus at the party until it verged on too creepy.

Over a shared cup of eggnog, Alex asked you, "You want to come to Sheffield?"

Meeting the parents had never been discussed. It was easy when his parents lived in another country and your parents were scared of planes. Though excitement and nerves bubbled, you answered, "Sure" before taking a sip.

He chuckled, now accustomed to what your reactions meant. "We could do Christmas there."

You said, "Sure" and sipped the eggnog again because it helped fight against those nerves in your stomach.

Alex chucked again because he was charmed, now completely lost in you.

Christmas in Sheffield was cold. It rained heavily the whole time you were there. You and Alex only braved walking around town once on the 23rd when the rain had stopped momentarily. The city centre was time for sightseeing all his old haunts. You walked arm-in-arm with Alex in an effort to combat the cold but still keep your hands in your coat pockets.

You got a half hour in before it started pouring rain and you were left feeling like idiots for not bringing an umbrella with you. The car was far away and you both debated ducking into a bookstore but you were both already too soaked and cold and decided just to head back to the car. He grabbed your hand, leading the way, as you raced through the unbearably cold beating rain.

On the way back to his childhood home, the rain had increased even more making it nearly impossible for Alex to see properly while driving. "This is how you end up killing someone," you said.

Alex put his hand on your shoulder but kept his eyes steady on the road. "Relax. I know how to drive."

You removed his hand from your shoulder and placed it back on the wheel. "Then, keep both hands at 10 and 2," you ordered.

He laughed and reached over to kiss your cheek and while the affection made you gain a cavity, your nerves bubbled up as you pushed him away. "Eyes on the road, mister!"

You both made it back unscathed, minus your socks, which had been soaked through. The house was warm and the smell of dinner wafted through the air. The house was quiet other than the pattering of rain and some jazz record his dad had put on. It felt like coming home.

Christmas dinner, however, was hectic. You drove out to his grandparents' place and the quiet 4-person car ride led to a fistful of screaming grandchildren and uncles whose laughs broke the sound barrier.

It had you turning to him. "This is your family?"

"Yeah. Hard to believe, right?" The calmness of Alex must come from his mum's side of the family.

Once dinner was served, the noise level calmed down as people stuffed their faces and they wished to show a great impression to their American guest of honour. The questions were light and it was clear that you weren't the first American girl Alex had brought home but everyone was welcoming and Alex placed a reassuring arm on the back of your chair. He would occasionally lift his hand and play with the longest strands of your hair, bouncing the curls you had made that morning.

Later, while the young kids played with the toys they had just received as gifts, Alex and you drank tea together. It was a warm distance for the fast nights of Los Angeles. You leaned close to Alex on the settee so he could hear your words. "I like Sheffield a lot."

He turned his head away from watching the kids, meeting your eyes. A smile crept to his lips. "Good." His hand smoothed down your sweater-covered arm. "I'm happy you're happy."

That in turn made you smile. "I like this quietness. You know, of the city, not this house."

Alex chuckled and pushed the front hanging pieces of hair behind your shoulder, eyes sculpting over your body. "It's nice to come back. Feels like a reset."

You took your fancy tea cup off your fancy tea plate and took a sip, feeling like a proper English lady. "You should come to Beaman. You'll probably hate it but it's like no one else in the world exists out there."

He hummed, staring softly at you. His eyes made the ice in you melt. "If you love it, I'll love it," he promised.

"It'll just be you, me, and the chickens," you giggled.

Alex grinned, skimming his thumb over your cheekbone. "Hm. I love you."

It caught all the air in the room and it suddenly didn't feel as cold as it did a minute before. You inched closer to him and smiled because he was smiling. "You've never told me that before, you know."

He furrows his brows, playing up his acting. "I haven't?"

"Actually, you told me when you were drunk once. Back in October, at that Halloween party."

He squints seriously this time. "I don't remember this."

You coyly smile. "I know. It was when Miles and me were carrying you inside and I couldn't figure out if you were saying it to me or him."

He leaned forward, his arm pulling you toward him as he laughed in your ear before kissing your cheek. "You. Always you."

"Good." You clapped your hands. "I'll hang this over Miles's head for decades."

That night, Alex fell asleep quickly, allowing you to realize something. You nudged him awake, making him groan. "What?"

You curled your arm around him. "Nothing. I'm sorry I woke you."

His arms moved around your waist, laying you on top of him. His eyes stayed shut, not wanting to lose his sleepiness. "It's alright," he mumbled. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah." You leaned into his ear, whispering, "Love you."

A grin spread across his lips, enticing you to lean over and kiss the corner of it. He hummed. "Love you too. Night."

The following year, Alex went away on tour. You stayed, he went, but it never felt like it placed a strain on the relationship. There was longing and missing but never any resentment and as Alex would put it, "It always makes for great reunion sex."

You briefly joined them in August when they played California: Santa Ana, San Diego, and Outside Lands in San Francisco. They were all one after the next and left you exhausted and though Alex was much more well-adjusted to the pace of touring, it was reaching the tail end and he struggled with the comedown on it all.

Those were the only times you grew frustrated with one another. You never really yelled or fought—maybe because you didn't want to or maybe because you were in close quarters with other people—although, you had tiffs.

Much like your annoyances at home, traveling or touring only amplified what truly annoyed you about each other but in a way—a super corny, cheesy way—you loved Alex even more for that.

"I like that you're not perfect," you said late to him one night. He was smoking a cigarette and though the weather was hot, there was a nighttime breeze that settled over the two of you.

"Gee, thanks," he quipped, puffing away.

You knocked a shoulder into him. "I'm being sweet. If you were perfect then I'd feel inadequate all the time in comparison but since you've got these flaws and vices that make you more real, in a roundabout way, you are perfect. For me, at least."

Alex grew amused with every passing word, tucking an arm behind you. "Well, you're perfect. I hope you feel that."

You shifted your body to get a full look at him. "Maybe not perfect but I feel worthy or something. You always make me feel adequate. I appreciate that."

He shrugged, unsure of how to respond. "You're easy to love. I've never struggled with that."

That's always been the word: easy. From the moment you met, it was a clear link holding you two together, and with time doing its thing, it only grew slowly into what it should be. There was never a force of change, you held onto each other until you clicked at the right time. After that, there was no way to disrupt it.

You moved into Alex's in September. After the tour (and even before), you spent all your time there anyway. He decided over breakfast one day to make it official.

He pulled out a pan to make eggs but before he could place it on the stove, he stared at it. "This is your pan," he said."

You looked up from your cereal. "Oh, yeah, you don't have small pans so I brought mine over. It's better for your eggs, you know. Heats up quicker."

Alex began to laugh, placing the pan down on the stove, and his hands on his hips. You chuckled along with him, even though you were confused. "What's so funny?"

He shook his head, trying to shake off the laughter. "Do you even have anything at your place anymore?"

"Um, I don't know." you thought aloud. You shoveled a pile of cereal in your mouth.

"Why don't you just sell the place?" He suggested. "Move in here."

You shrugged. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" He questioned.

"Yeah, I mean, I like my place."

Alex snorted. "You're never at your place."

"I still like it," you insisted.

He moved over, coming behind you like a snake, and hugging your waist tightly. "Come on, move in," he whispered in your ear.

"I'll think about it," you said as he kissed your neck.

Alex decided on other plans for breakfast. You stood up to clean your bowl but his arms stopped you from making it to the kitchen sink. "I have a convincing argument," he said, taking the bowl out of your hands and setting it down.

You laughed at his bravado but you were soon overpowered by it. He bent you over the counter harshly with a kiss to your left shoulder blade as a form of salvation. He kneeled down on both his knees and grazed his hands on your butt, playing with the fabric of your shorts. He squeezed and pulled and yanked, eventually dragging the material off of you and having it lay at your feet.

Alex's slow nature in the morning took hold as he danced his fingers around your cunt. The tips of his fingers edged on the lips of your pussy. The thumb on his other hand, touched over your asshole, making it pucker up with tension.

"Your teasing is only making me want to say no," you said, desiring relief as soon as possible.

Alex only hummed and muttered, "Interesting." He placed a light kiss on your inner thigh but it only felt like he was moving further away from the point of release. He moved up and kissed your left butt cheek, his hand squeezing the right.

His touch became light and he moved his hand back down to your lips. "I know how to get you there," he insisted. He tapped both your knees. "Spread. They're so close together. It's like you don't want me to touch you."

"It's called being bored," you retorted.

Then, Alex slapped your ass. He'd never done anything more than a pat and it was usually more in a casual setting, not when you were butt naked and not that hard.

You turned your head around, looking down at him with a squint. "Did you just slap my ass?"

"Yeah," he quickly admitted. "Why? Did you like it?" A smirk presented as if he already knew the answer.

You didn't want to give in to him. This was frustration, it wasn't supposed to be satisfaction. You wanted him begging for you, not the other way around. But you couldn't help it. You bit your lip and turned away, not wanting him to see the pleasurable smile on your face. "Maybe."

But then he overwhelmed you, diving straight in and placing his mouth directly on your cunt, dragging a long moan out of you. You could feel the coldness of the counter through your shirt, erecting your nipples. Your hands made a fist, unable to grab onto anything, thwarting you.

His tongue plunged into you and then moved up to your clit before pulling away again, making everything unbearable. His mouth moved to kiss your inner thigh before he left completely to slap your ass again. "You alright?" He asked to make sure, even if you gasped in delight at every feeling.

"Go back down," you demanded.

Alex listened and returned to your core, licking his way through your fold, and reaching his tongue up to your clit. He continued the game of agony, moving back and forth from the pleasurable, but slowly the edging made for a great build-up and he began to lay it on thick, never abandoning your clit until your legs were shaking and you were practically pushing him away from you.

He stood up and slapped your ass. You moved in on Tuesday.

Not much changed. You already had drawers in his dresser and space in his closet and pans in his kitchen. You had already infected his house with your essence and the only difference was you weren't paying rent on a place you were barely ever sleeping.

As the new year began, things slowed. Alex started growing his hair out, stopped shaving, and became far more reclusive. He had grown tired from the road, was now in his 30s, and, most importantly, settled. At times, that thought was terrifying for you, staring down the barrel of this being the rest of your life. Other times, it was comforting, usually waking up in the morning next to Alex.

But there was a lifestyle shift in Alex that you weren't yet aligned with. He rebuffed the idea of going out, talked about leaving LA, and locked himself away in his music room. You weren't particularly annoyed at the latter other than it sometimes felt like he was locking you out of part of him. The idea of leaving LA wasn't unappealing, but he longed for England more and you were American through and through. Going out, well, maybe that's where you got into trouble.

Alex's newfound life as a hermit wasn't horrible now that you were living together but you started to go out more and more without him. Usually with various groups of friends, sometimes for work, two times with Miles, and one time by yourself. Alex said no to going so often that you stopped asking. Soon, you weren't spending many nights together. He'd stay up late working on music or you'd stay out late drinking. Like everything else, it eventually came to a head.

"I think I'm going to Beaman next week," you told him while getting ready to go out one night.

He was in the shower. He was staying in. "Why?"

You furrowed your brows toward the shower curtain. "I haven't been back in a while. My mom's birthday is at the end of the month."

"Alright," he said over the sound of rushing water.

"Do you want to come with me?"

For a moment, only the shower made a noise. It didn't even sound like Alex moved an inch. You stared at the shower curtain and thought he might pop his head out. But he didn't and you didn't move to open the curtain either. Finally, he answered, "No, no. I think I'll stay here. Jamie's coming into town soon."

You thought about fighting it or asking him if he was going to do anything with Jamie, instead, you said, "Okay. I'm leaving now."

"Alright," he said, "Have fun. I love you." He never came out from behind the curtain. When you came home he was asleep.

Upon your return from Iowa, Alex picked you up at the airport. The car ride home was pleasant and he made dinner. You were scraping your fork along the plate when he asked, "Would you ever want to live in Iowa again?"

You snorted at the ridiculousness. "I left home when I was 18 and have only lived in New York and LA. Does that strike you as someone who wants to move back to the Midwest?"

 Alex shrugged and thoughtfully looked down at his nearly empty plate. "I just never knew if you thought about it."

"Are you thinking about it? About England?" You leaned on your fist, eager for the answer.

He shook his head. "I'm just homesick, I guess." He then stood up and took his plate to the dishwasher.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You shouted into the kitchen.

You awaited an answer from the other side of the wall. You heard the dishwasher shut and his feet pad across the wooden floor, he stopped in the archway, facing you. With certainty, he said, "I'm happy here."

You stayed seated. "Would you want to move back?"

He looked unsure but answered, "I don't think so."

"You can be honest," you assured him. "If you think I'm worried or going to shoot it down. I mean, I'm not saying yes, but if you're thinking about it I think we should talk about it."

He shook his head. "I'm not saying I want to be here forever and maybe that's something we should talk about since..."

"Since?" You questioned, clueless of where his words were leading.

Alex laughed at you, turning away, not bearing to make eye contact. "Since we're us. You and me."

"I'm confused," you said, crossing your brows. "What's this have to do with England?"

He laughed again, nerves tackling him. "We're not just fooling around here anymore. This direction..." He motioned a straight line and though you were catching on you still wished to hear him talk in full.

"This direction?"

He rolled his eyes with a smile, exasperated by your questioning. "Look, we've talked about it."

You playfully raised an eyebrow. "It?"

He wagged his finger at you. "Quit playing games with me here."

"Oh," you nodded enthusiastically, "the marrying me thing. You talk around it like it's a curse word."

"'Cause it makes me nervous." He played with the ends of his hair as a soothing mechanism. 

You shifted forward, leaning your head onto your hand, resting it on your knee. You genuinely asked, "Why does it make you nervous?"

A nervous smile played at his lips as he calmly said, "Why the fuck do you think?" He laughed, feeling overwhelmed, both of you.

"You tell me," you egged him on.

Alex threw his head back, exhausted from you toying him. "You do the laundry. I know you've been in my underwear drawer."

You giggled, remembering the sight. "Well, you put it in your underwear drawer, how cliche are you?"

"At least I didn't do my sock drawer!" He shouted, trying to insist he wasn't such an idiot. "I didn't think you'd go digging around in there."

"Hey!" You assert. "I didn't find it. It found me."

You both laughed and soon the room fell quiet. "Hey," you said. "You got me a princess cut." It was dainty like you wanted, no giant diamonds, and no uncomfortability. A simple, classic look. He did good.

He kept a small smile, despite both of your racing hearts. "Well, that's what you wanted."

You grinned back, sitting up straight, and leaning your side into the back of the dining room chair. "You got my ring size right too."

He raised his eyebrows. "You put it on?"

"On my right hand that way I didn't break any rules."

Smiles were plastered on each of your faces. "Should I just go get it?" You'll probably cry if he does go get it.

"Yes. And yes to your next question too."

"I haven't even gotten down on one knee."

You shook your head. "You don't have to get down on one knee."

"I want to." He does. And the ring fits just as well on the left as it did on the right.

Just like moving in, being engaged isn't that much different either with the exception of getting your mother off your back and a nice new piece of jewelry. Alex enjoyed calling you "fiancée" when introducing you.

You started to go out less but when he did he came more often. It was a non-verbal comparison and with a new album on the horizon, you started to stockpile time together. Any wedding talk was limited but agreed upon to take place after the tour so you could enjoy married life together. Alex also heavily enjoyed the in-between state of being engaged and what you thought would be the dull before the actual excitement of marriage, turned into its own new game.

You accompanied him more on tour, mostly because it was much longer this time. You joined him for branches, attended the US shows, made him shave his head in Texas, and made your way over to London. There were bigger breaks this time with things not packed so closely together. You spent Christmas in Iowa with Alex for the first time. You went to Hawaii for his birthday. You went bowling for Valentine's Day.

When the tour ended and there was an actual wedding to plan, everything felt stuck. It was either too cliche or too underwhelming. It became easier to just get married and worry more about planning a party. So, you got married at a cute small inn with sycamore trees with a small number of guests. Those who would be willing to sit through a wedding without getting antsy.

The reception party grew in numbers and the loveliest part is you didn't have to worry about cleaning any of the mess up. Alex got cake on his suit and you went to the bathroom more times than you can count. But overall, it was a simple, sweet night. 

Honeymooning (fucking) in Fiji and then resuming life two weeks later. "Wife" became Alex's new favourite word but everything else stayed the same. Well, for about a month.

You just had a feeling. You woke up one day and felt it. You nudged him awake, it was early before the sun was up. "Alex."

He hummed in acknowledgment, shut-eyed.

You burrowed into him and nonchalantly said, "I'm pregnant."

"What?!" His eyes were wide and his face wrinkled in confusion. "Seriously? When did you find out?"

You flopped onto your back, turning your head to the side to look at him. "Just now. I can feel it."

"So, you feel like you're pregnant?" He questioned.

"Yeah."

"But you don't know it. You didn't take a test?"

"No, but I know. I'll take one in the morning, I just wanted to let you know. Night." You turned over into your pillow and closed your eyes.

Alex sat with his mouth agape. "Yeah. Night." He didn't fall back asleep.

And you were right. You shrugged and said, "Told ya." Alex laughed. Then, he cried. Then, he hugged you. Then, he kissed your stomach, but you thought that was too weird so you told him to stop.

Being pregnant definitely changed things but things felt the same just with one more thing. You fucked. A lot. Your sexual appetite increased but you had always been horny for Alex. It's just a given. But there was a point where things did change.

It was the first ultrasound. You felt it when you entered the room. The air was cold and there was a shift, everything suddenly becoming real. You enjoyed watching Alex twiddle his thumbs while you waited for the technician. 

When they started to move the wand around your stomach, he became fascinated with the machine, continuously asking questions. More of them were about the machine rather than the baby. 

And, well, then the whole twin thing happened.

"Like two of them?" Alex held two fingers up like he couldn't quite comprehend it. 

The technician nodded and you still couldn't think of a verbal response to the news.

Then, Alex said, "We've been having a lot of sex, did we like make another baby when we—"

You interrupted, "Are you the dumbest person alive?"

Alex pinned the ultrasound to your fridge and kept a copy in his wallet. He held an affection for it that you didn't. Maybe because you were the pregnant one. The proof came attached to you. Nonetheless, you were charmed by Alex in his fatherly role, even if he stressed you out with the need to be super-ultra-prepared. His nervousness about what you could and couldn't do got annoying by the second month. He calmed down after you yelled at him.

Although, it was nice for him to take on the extra work. You picked out the design for the nursery and he did all the work, citing that you couldn't paint because of the toxic fumes and everything was a heavy load.

He knew you were full of bullshit but he didn't care. "I like helping out. Being the man in charge."

You told him not to get too full of himself. His insistence on doing everything led him to break his index finger.

But after everything had healed and two babies became two girls, you both relaxed into your final months of solitude, which really just meant lots of sex. You fucked and he went down on you but sometimes you felt too sore down there from all the pelvic pressure and though Alex insisted that no sex was fine, you insisted that release was release, even if it wasn't your release. Alex still fondled your breasts too, saying that's where all his horniness came from.

"How can I not be turned on when they're just staring at me?" They were bigger and Alex was always insatiable.

"I feel like a cow," you whined. You were bigger with two babies and the only way you did have sex was doggy style with everything hanging.

"You're not a cow," Alex said, climbing into bed. You were under the sheets, exhausted at 9 PM. He curled up behind you, whispering in your ear, "You want me to fuck you on your side?"

You thought about it, felt the ache, and said, "Okay."

You were already underwear-free because they hurt your vagina too much when you slept. You had returned to your old days of quickness. Alex pulled himself out of his boxers, gave himself a few pumps, and slid into you. You softly moaned as Alex pushed into you slowly at first before his thrusts grew quicker. He knew you were tired and needed a quick release. 

"Fuck," he harshly whispered as his speed picked up, skins slapped, and sweat beads formed. He clutched your hipbone tightly and you fisted your pillowcase. Every action rushed and a final slam resulted in you falling apart and him emptying into you. His hand caressed up your bump and you knew he was very turned on but the whole pregnancy sex things and not just because of the boobs. However, he did love those too, and gave them a quick squeeze before cleaning up.

The final change came in an expected way. Labour was shorter if only for the epidural and the C-section. You wanted to resist the idea until the thought of pushing two babies out set in and the pain became too unbearable and Twin A was breached and then a C-section seemed like the best thing, even if it was surgery.

Alex liked wearing the medical gear and kept adjusting his mask. Oh, Alex, sweet naive Alex. Luckily, everything was smooth, except for the fact you couldn't hold the babies until they had sewn everything up. But Alex cut the umbilical cord and got to hold them, which was a sweet enough sight.

When you were placed in recovery and finally got to hold them, then came the hard part. "What do we name them?" You asked.

Alex shook his head. "I got no fucking idea." Names had been discussed but you never really landed on one let alone two. "You should name them. You carried them and they're getting my last name."

"It's too much pressure," you whined.

Alex sighed and concluded, "Thing 1 and Thing 2 it is then."

Eventually, you decided on Wren and Willow. You initially hated the shared first initial but Alex liked it and it became too frustrating to think of any other names.

The first month was harsh. Your body was slowly healing and you ached all the time. You had backup with both sets of parents but then everyone went back home and everything shut down and it was just you, Alex, and Wren & Willow. It didn't actually feel like much had changed. It's not like you would have left the house anyway.

Alex takes to having the girls nap on him. Sometimes one at a time, sometimes both. Sometimes he will let you nap in his arms too. The days are long but the weeks move fast.

One day, Willow laughs. It's the first time either of them has laughed. It took you both by surprise. You were feeding Wren while Willow laid on her back with Alex loomed over her. Usually, when he would blow raspberries on her stomach she would just gurgle and flap her arms and legs around, but this time she laughed, and it’s the loudest sound you've ever heard.

Alex looked down at her, completely engaged, not bearing to take his eyes off, scared to miss the sight. It gets him laughing too with tears in his throat. He leaned down again and blew more air against her tummy. She shrieks this time, giggling, and you want to capture the sound forever. Run and have Alex record it.

But you looked down at Wren and rubbed your finger against her tiny baby cheek, deciding that there was no need to move from this comfort.

They aren't easy babies. There are two of them too. They both wake each other up, which means both you and Alex have to get up because it's 2 v. 2 and they're small but mighty. They eventually get on a sleep schedule and a routine and trade-off between you and Alex is set into place.

By the end of the year, it's the new normal and you don't remember a time when they weren't around. You want to be with them all the time just like you want to be with Alex all the time.

They're great. But then they wake you up at 3 AM.

*

a/n: so...this slowly became a prequel to my dad!al fic and i decided to just finish it that way. i also have not read through it because i'm tired so any mistakes you did not see.

[roguerogerss]

Wanted To Have You

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

W/C: 3.7k (i think i didn’t check tbf)

Warnings: mention of smut (no actual smut though), swearing, arguing

(welcome back babes, missed you. tommy has been on my mind all the time recently so i decided i’d bang something out and post it. it’s basically just word vomit tbh but hope u enjoy. LOVE a lil bit of angst when it comes to peaky blinders and hope u do too!! luv u the most b back soon)

***

Birds chirped, the sounds of the market opening began, golden sunlight poured in through the window. The morning had come too early, but Tommy was always a sight to see in the morning.

Laid on his back, one arm curled loosely around her waist, the other on his chest, right above a bullet scar that Y/N had helped Polly to stitch up in early January. His lips were parted slightly, chest rising and falling, dark lashes settled on ruddy cheeks.

She smiled and traced the tattoo on his chest ever so lightly with the tip of her painted fingernails, her way of quietly waking him up. It always worked, and today was no exception. He sighed as he stirred, a small smile making it's way onto his face.

"G'mornin', love." How she loved the way that his voice sounded in the morning. Heavy with the day before's cigarettes, low and gravelly, Brum accented. "Sleep okay?"

"Slept great." She was so tired from the night before's antics that she couldn't have stayed awake another second after they'd collapsed onto the mattress and he'd pulled her close underneath the sheets. "Did you?"

Tommy hummed, "Mm, slept alright. Wasn't great, thinkin' a lot."

"Thinkin' about what?" Her fingers absentmindedly wandered from his tattoo to the back of his neck, tugging at the short hairs that gathered there.

"Business stuff, darlin'. Nothin' for you to worry your pretty little head about." He gave a soft, bleary-eyed smile and pressed a hand to her cheek, thumb stroking back and forth.

"Tommy, you always say it's just 'business stuff'. Why won't you just tell me what's going on for once?" She wasn't angry, really, but the pout on her face might've said otherwise. Business stuff was the closest that she ever got to knowing anything about Tommy's personal life.

But rumours fly, and she'd heard a lot from the people of the town that made her think that her Thomas wasn't as innocent as she thought he might be.

"I've told you. It's not important, nothing you'd want to hear." His voice strained as he stretched, biceps flexing as he raised his arms above his head. "Would bore ya, honest."

"You don't bore me, Tom." She looked up at him through her lashes and he gave a short-lived chuckle and ran his fingers soothingly through her hair.

"I have to get up." He ignored her statement and gave her a quick kiss on the top of the head, before rolling over and sitting up. He was still only wearing his underwear, and so she marvelled at the way that the muscles in his back flexed as he moved to grab his previously ironed button-down shirt from the side table.

She almost forgot that she was angry as he got up and pulled his slacks on, shirt still unbuttoned and the light hitting his toned torso just right. "I'll see you later, sweetheart." Tommy leaned down to place a kiss on his girl's lips, barely taking a second to enjoy the feeling but really only doing it so that he could continue to taste her on his lips for the next hour or so.

"Family meeting?" It was obvious that Y/N was unimpressed, but Tommy either didn't notice or was pretending that he hadn't, because he didn't comment and simply nodded. "And I can't come?”

"Told ya." Tommy tucked his shirt into his slacks and knotted his tie, eyeing Y/N all the while. "Would bore you."

He wanted to tell her about what he did. He really, really did. But he also wanted to keep her, and he knew that he couldn't do both. There was no way that she'd want to stay with him if she knew about all of the terrible things that he'd done, and so he'd made everyone who worked with him agree that she was never to know.

He supposed that she'd get suspicious at some point, but he hadn't expected that point to come so soon. It had been a year, and he figured that the towns people spoke and that she heard, but he was dreading having to actually let her know by himself.

"And I've told you," Y/N had gotten up, pulling her silk robe around her small body and padding lightly across the floor to where Tommy stood. She fixed out his jacket and smoothed down his shirt affectionately. "You don't bore me."

"We can talk later." Tommy smiled softly, hand smoothing Y/N's hair against her head as he pressed his lips to her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and finally her lips. She made him linger for a second, hands grabbing at the back of his neck and holding him in place as their lips moved together.

Tommy chuckled and pressed his forehead against hers. "I have to go.

"Fine." She pecked his lips once again and then let him go. "Go about your business, Mr Shelby."

"As I will, Miss Y/L/N." He smiled and then he was gone, unlocking the bedroom door and slipping out of the room.

**

Y/N was furious. That was really the only word that she could think of to describe the sheer anger that bubbled inside of her. Thomas Shelby is a Peaky Blinder.

And she knew that the statement from the woman at the market wasn't a lie. What other reason would he have to hide everything from her? To never tell her about his life or where he'd been or why he would often come to bed at ungodly hours?

She stormed into their shared home and, upon seeing him sat at the kitchen table, cigarette in hand, decided that she couldn't deal with him. And so she threw him a look and then took off up the stairs to their bedroom.

Tommy followed, of course he did, yelling her name and asking what was going on. But she ignored him, simply sitting down on the bed and waiting for him to join her.

"What's wrong, love? Did someone do something? I swear, I'll-"

"You'll what, Tommy?" She stood then, still keeping her distance but crossing the room only slightly. "Cut them? Kill them?"

"What the hell is this about?" Tommy sighed. He seemed bored already, unprepared to listen to her ramble because, oh, Thomas Shelby knew that his girlfriend could ramble for hours.

"Let me see your hat." She knew what the Peaky Blinders were, she knew fair well what the name meant, and she needed to confirm what the townsfolk had told her. "Where is it? Show me it!" She started searching for the hat, opening drawers and cabinets, she knew that she had to find it, because she had to know.

"Y/N, calm down, for God's sake." Tommy clasped a hand around her forearm, but she yanked it away and simply stared up at him, tears threatening to fall from her already glassy eyes.

"Are you one of them?" Her voice was almost a whisper, so quiet and timid that maybe Thomas wouldn't have heard her if they weren't almost chest to chest. "Are you a Peaky Blinder, Tommy?"

And now she was really crying, tears smudging the makeup on her cheeks and clouding her vision as Tommy's piercing blue eyes stared down at her. He was thinking, thinking about whether it was best to tell the truth or to leave, and thinking about what the consequences of each would be.

What would she do if he told her? Would she yell? Hate him? Would she leave? And what if he left? Would she let him back in?

But she looked so vulnerable, was crying so hard because she already knew the answer. And Tommy wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and kiss her head and wipe the tears from her eyes. But it was his fault that she was crying, he'd caused the tears and the hurt. And he had to tell her.

"Yes." Her heart felt like it might've stopped. Because Tommy was the only person that she trusted, and now she felt like she knew nothing about him.

The room fell silent, she stared at him and waited for words to come, and she waited, and waited. Thomas wouldn't break eye contact with her. In truth, because he was scared that, if he did, he'd never look into her eyes again, she'd leave and she wouldn't come back, she'd go back to Ireland, back where people told her things because that was the right thing to do, because they weren't afraid of what the Peaky Blinders might do to them.

She decided, after a few beats of standing still, staring at him, heavy breaths coming from both of them, that she couldn't look at him anymore. She'd been waiting for him to say something, anything, that would mean that this had all been some sort of sick joke. He'd start laughing, tell her he was kidding, that the woman at the market had told her that just to see how she would react. She'd be angry, yes, but it'd only be short lived, and it wouldn't change anything.

But he didn't, and he wouldn't, because she already knew there was no hint of a lie in what she'd been told. She took a last, deep breath, and then departed to the other side of the room, where she turned her back to Thomas and took a few more deep breaths.

"Listen, love, I...I wanted to tell you-"

"Don't, Thomas."

"I really did. I wanted to. But I knew you'd react like this-"

"And so you thought that keeping it from me was right? You thought that holding the threat of the Peaky Blinders over the entire town's head to keep them quiet, was the right thing to do? You thought I'd be happy when I eventually found out?" Thomas found himself falling silent, speechless. He was never speechless.

"I was hoping to tell you myself."

"Well, you missed the opportunity to do that two years ago, Thomas." She'd picked up her handbag now, and Thomas noticed that tears had pricked his eyes and were threatening to fall. "To think I worked for you, as your secretary. I signed off your fucking books, I made phone calls for you, you involved me in this without even telling me, you didn't even ask me if that was what I wanted, Thomas."

"I know, and I'm sorry-"

"Pack your things."

"Love-"

"Pack your things, Thomas. And don't you ever call me anything other than my name."

And with that, she'd gone. To where, Thomas wasn't sure, but he found himself watching her, almost in slow motion, as she stormed through their bedroom door. He could hear her heels clicking as she hurried down the stairs, the brief pause as she pulled her coat - the one he'd bought her for their anniversary - around her body, and then the click open and slam shut of the front door.

He lowered himself onto the bed, placed his head in his hands, and sat for a few minutes in silence. The window was open, and so the sounds of the bustling street below floated upstairs, and he tried not to listen. The thought that she was out there, inconsolably upset, with every intention of leaving him, because of a mistake he'd made off his own back seemed entirely too much to handle.

So he closed the window, lay back on the bed, and lit the end of a cigarette. He needed to figure out a way to make things right by her, after all, Thomas Shelby didn't care about opinions, but what she thought of him was the most important thing in the world.

**

She'd gone to the Shelby's family home, mostly to try to seek comfort from either Ada or Polly, but also to berate the brothers for not thinking to tell her their secret.

She burst through the front door, to find Polly and Ada at the dining table, each smoking a cigarette. They jumped up when they saw her, womanly instinct coming into full effect, knowing that something must've been wrong from the way she'd stormed in, and the look on her face when she had.

"What's he done, my love?" Polly was always best at being able to tell when Thomas had messed up, and she was always on the right track when it came to guessing what he'd done wrong. His aunt knew him better than anyone, as much as he'd hate to admit it.

"Did you know?" She was breathing heavily, trying not to let the tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes slide down her cheeks.

"Know what, love?" Ada had come to Y/N's side now, guiding her to sit down at the kitchen table, and had shooed the men away, into the drawing room, after Arthur had come mooching for a bottle of rum.

"Did you know what he was doing?" Her eyes were full of tears now, making it hard for her to see properly. She placed her elbows on the table and used the sides of her palms to wipe the tears as they fell. Polly pulled her chair over so that she was sat close to Y/N.

"Calm down, sweetheart." Polly placed a tentative hand on her arm, "What has he done?" His aunt could feel her heart drop in her chest, from the way that Y/N was speaking, she was almost certain that her nephew had cheated on his girlfriend.

"Did you know he was a Peaky Blinder? Is that what they're doing through there?" Y/N was really crying now, looking that horrible, vulnerable way that Tommy hated. Arthur had opened the door a crack, and he, John, and Finn were peeking out at the women sat in the kitchen.

Ada sighed and ran a hand over her face, and Polly seemed to erupt into anger, "We bloody told him, didn't we Ada? We told him you'd find out, but he listened to these bloody idiots," She jabbed a finger at the doors to the drawing room, which made Arthur crack up like a child, provoking Polly to pick up a teaspoon from the table and throw it at his face. "The women in this house are apparently the only ones with any sense in them."

"Why wouldn't he tell me, Polls?"

Polly took a long pause before answering. Thomas's reasonings had never been clear, behind any of his madness, and, even while having known him his entire life, she often wondered what the method behind the goings-on in his life was. "Listen, love, you know he loves you, yes?"

Y/N nodded slowly, a puzzled expression crossing her face. "Then you know how he protects the people he loves. Yes, he does all of this bad work, but he doesn't want you to know because he's scared something will happen to you if you know too much. And he doesn't want you to see him as this monster, Thomas Shelby, the leader of the Peaky Blinders. Sometimes, he just wants to be Tommy. Do you know what I'm saying?"

Polly, as always when she assumed anything about Tommy, was right. He'd liked Y/N from the moment he'd hired her to work as his secretary, but he knew she wasn't the type to turn a blind eye to his work. He supposed it was selfish, not telling her, but he wanted her to know him for who he was, not what he did.

She let out a sigh, partly letting go of all of the anger she'd built up towards Tommy, and partly because she was relieved to hear what his aunt had to say about it. "I know what you're saying, Pol."

A long pause followed, with only the bustle of the drawing room keeping the place from being in dead silence. Polly's hand was still resting on Y/N's arm, and Ada's on her back, and she found herself able to forgive. The Shelby women certainly had their ways.

"What do you want to do, love?" Polly broke the silence that had settled on the room.

"I don't know." Y/N couldn’t even think of anything else that she could say, she truly didn’t know what she wanted. Polly’s face contorted slightly, and Ada rubbed her hand up and down over Y/N’s back.

"Well, are you going to tell him it's over?" Ada asked, voice quiet, so as not to alert the men in the other room that anything too serious was being spoken about. She thought for a moment, feeling a pang of sadness come over her at the fact that she had to even think about whether or not she wanted to end things with Tommy.

"No. No, I'm not going to do that."

Polly breathed out, a breath that she didn’t even know she’d been holding, and wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulders, pulling her in and squeezing her in a way reminiscent of a mother holding her daughter.

"Okay. Okay, good. He does love you, so much, you know that?” It was a rhetorical question, and Polly didn’t leave enough time for Y/N to even answer. “Do you want to go home? Or will Ada boil the kettle and we can have a brew?"

"A brew would be nice."

**

The air was almost cold when she left the Shelby house to start the walk home. Summer was coming to an end now, but the sky was still bright past nine. She'd begun noticing things that she hadn't before, after finding out Thomas's secret. People would greet her profusely as she walked down the street, some even going out of their ways to let her past. They'd hold their children back from walking in front of her, the men working at the furnace would shield her from any soot that might come her way.

It felt strange, like Thomas was king of Small Heath and she was his Queen, and god forbid anyone see what might happen if they disrespect the Queen. She made an effort of smiling and thanking these people, showing that she didn't actually need them to be doing these things for her, but they did them regardless.

When she reached the front door of the house she shared with Thomas, she stood for a moment, simply staring at the front door. The mark was still there from the nail Thomas had banged into it months ago now, so that she could hang a holly wreath there to celebrate Christmas. He'd called it unnecessary, but they'd only just moved in together and she'd been so excited for their first Christmas in their new home, she'd come home from work one day to find the largest wreath Thomas could find at the market, hanging on their front door.

She smiled to herself, suddenly feeling emotional with all of the memories of their time together coming flooding back. She opened the door.

She was pleased to find that, when she got home, Thomas's hat and coat were still hanging on the coat stand at the front door. His pocket watch on the mantelpiece, shoes still placed neatly at the door. He hadn't gone anywhere yet.

"Thomas?" She called, and was met with the sound of soft footsteps in the bedroom.

"Upstairs." His voice was quiet, small, something that hurt her to hear. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him truly upset, even after two whole years.

She placed her handbag on the floor and draped her coat over the coat stand, then crossed the hallway and climbed the stairs to their bedroom, where Tommy was sat on the bed, head in his hands, suitcase at his feet. She felt a piece of her heart chip away upon seeing him.

"I'll be gone soon enough, I just-I didn't want to believe that-"

"Do you want to leave, Tom?" She took a few steps towards him, and Tommy lifted his head to look at her for the first time. His eyes were red, and she knew that Tommy Shelby strictly did not cry, except when it came to her.

A pause followed, Tommy simply staring up at her, opening and closing his mouth every now and again, thinking of the right thing to say. Was there a right thing to say?

"You know I'm not really religious. But I've been praying all day that you'd come home and we'd be fine again." A small, sad looking smile had settled on his face.

"Maybe you should start going to church, then." She placed her house keys down on the bedside table, she was here to stay. Tommy felt a weight lifted from his shoulders as she gave him a small smile and held her arms out to him, letting him back in, “Come here."

He didn’t hesitate, pulling her into his lap and wrapping himself tightly around her. Please don’t leave again, he was saying, eyes closed and cheek pressed to her stomach. Her arms settled around his neck, one hand drawing comforting patterns on his shoulder and the other smoothing his hair.

"I wasn't doing it to upset you." He needed an explanation for her, he owed her that, especially after she’d come back when he wouldn’t have blamed her for walking out of the door and never having a thought of him again.

"I know you weren't." He hated how forgiving she was. He hated that he’d done wrong, and, instead of just leaving like she deserved to, she’d come back and was comforting him, making him feel good about the lies he’d fed her. But he knew her all too well, he knew deep down she’d have forgiven him, because she wasn’t one to deal with things in any way other than graciously.

"No, sweetheart, I know I've been selfish. I know I’m not fair to you. But I'm only selfish because it's you." His hands roamed her back, underneath her dress, feeling every dip and scar, memorising them again, “I just wanted to have you, loved you since the minute I met you, I swear. Couldn't have you thinking of me as this cold, relentless monster. I just remember thinking you were too pure to know, thought I’d only ruin that if I got too close and you knew the truth.”

“I know you better than you know yourself, Tommy. You’ve got a heart in there, you know.” She gave him a small smile while he looked up at her, bright eyes piercing through dark eyelashes, “I don’t understand why you did all of this for me, you could’ve chosen another woman, one who you could’ve even helped you with your work all this time, but you chose someone who you felt like you had to hide everything from.”

“Told you already, I just wanted to have you.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, then one to your nose, and then your lips. “You, not anyone else, not a woman who’d do my work for me, not someone easy, I wanted to have you. And you know I’m selfish with things that I want.”

You were really smiling now. Tommy always knew the right things to say, always knew how to make you happy. You wrapped your arms around him again, and, while Tommy didn’t like to admit it, he felt safe with you, something that he didn’t feel in many places.

“Thomas Shelby, you’ll always have me.”

[n0vabug]

Sleeping and Bowling

Summary: Reader sleeps in and Maddy skips school to go to her house, they cuddle, go bowling, yk that kind of stuff.

This was a request btw :)

Warnings: None, it's all fluff :) Words: 1.3k

THIRD PERSON POV

Maddy walked into school that morning and immediately went to her girlfriend's locker, like normal. Maddy waited and waited. No (Y/N). She thought it was kind of weird since (Y/N) rarely ever missed school. Even though she wouldn't say it out loud at the moment, she was a bit worried that (Y/N) hadn't bolted through the school doors to hug her. Maddy eventually walked away, she went to look for Jules to ask her if she knew where (Y/N) was. It turns out (Y/N) was actually perfectly fine. She was just overslept that morning and when she woke up, she just decided to stay home since she would've been late anyways. Jules and (Y/N) had always been close. Jules was the second person (Y/N) came out too and also the second person who knew (Y/N) liked Maddy, but the first, was Lexi. (Y/N) was also pretty close to Lexi as they both had similar personalities. Lexi and (Y/N) had been friends since primary school (first grade to be specific). Lexi knew about (Y/N) liking Maddy since they started High school, and the second Maddy and (Y/N) started dating, Lexi was thrilled, like jumping up and down and continuously hugging (Y/N).

"Hey bitch, do you know where my Girlfriend is?" Maddy asked the blonde

"Yeah, she just texted me and said that she slept in today so she's just saying home." Jules responded and chuckled a bit at the end. She found it kind of funny since (Y/N) never sleeps in and is always on time.

"I'm gonna kill her." Maddy said obviously joking, which made Jules laugh.

Maddy decided to leave school and spend the day with her girlfriend, she wanted to take her bowling that night, and maybe watch a movie with her, Maddy literally wanted to do anything with her. They both really loved each other, (Y/N) was always doing kind gestures, showing Maddy every love language and giving Maddy all her love. Maddy on the other hand loved it, she was more of a physical touch quality time of person though, but every time (Y/N) showed any type of love to Maddy, she always said, "Ew (Y/N), that's like really gay." after that, (Y/N) would just give Maddy a look of confusion and say, "Aren't you literally gay?" The first that time Maddy did this, (Y/N) didn't realize she was joking and was upset because she thought Maddy didn't want to be with her, which led Maddy into explaining that it was all a big joke and she didn't mean it and a lot of cuddles and kisses from her. Maddy obviously wasn't homophobic, she never has been.

Maddy left the school and immediately drove to (Y/N's) place. Maddy got to her house, walked up to the door and knocked. (Y/N's) mom answered the door, she was one of the nicest people Maddy had met, next to (Y/N) of course.

"Oh hi Maddy!"

"Hello Mrs. (L/N), is (Y/N) here?" Maddy questioned the older woman

"Yep, she overslept, but she is just hanging out in her room if you want to come in. Do you need anything?" (Y/N's) mom said while opening the door more so Maddy could come inside.

"No I'm fine, thank you though!" Maddy said with a smile on her face. (Y/N) and her mom were both genuinely nice people, that's what Maddy liked about there house, it was sweet.

Maddy knocked on (Y/N's) door, and before (Y/N) could even say "come in", Maddy had already walked in.

"Oh hey Mads, I didn't know you were-" Maddy cut (Y/N) off by pressing a soft kips to her lips, but sadly, the kiss didn't last long. "Well, that's one way to say hello" said (Y/N) laughing.

"Well if I'm being completely honest, you make it very hard for me to like not miss you." Said Maddy, and before (Y/N) could get a word out, Maddy spoke up again. "Oh also tonight, you should like totally come bowling with me, Kat, Ethan, and Jules, and then you and me come back to your house and have a sleepover, if it's okay with you."

"That sounds like a great idea, also you basically live here, Mads, and I love it when you stay, you don't have to ask me." (Y/N) said with a smile. Maddy just smiled and admired her girlfriend for a minute before cupping her cheeks and pulling her in for another kiss, this time one that lasted a bit longer, Maddy melted into this kiss as she felt the warmth of her girlfriends lips flow perfectly against her lips. After a few minutes they both pulled away, out of breath.

"Come on let's get ready for tonight."

"We still have 7 hours Maddy."

"Well I want to make sure we both look perfect and I want to do your makeup." Maddy said with a grin on. her face

"You know I don't like a ton of makeup Mads." (Y/N) responded "Why don't we like relax for a bit before getting ready, we don't need 7 hours."

"Ugh fine, can I do a little makeup at least, also if we're relaxing then we're cuddling." Maddy said with a satisfied smile on her face.

"Fine you can do a little bit of makeup." (Y/N) said which made Maddy smile. (Y/N) laid down and patted the spot next to her for Maddy. Maddy laid on (Y/N's) chest and buried her head in the crook of (Y/N's) neck. Maddy's arms were around (Y/N's) waist while (Y/N's) arms were on Maddy's back. The two laid like this for a while until they both fell asleep.

(Y/N) woke up and immediately panicked, not knowing what time it was and not realizing they both fell asleep. "Shit, shit, shit" she said, which woke Maddy up.

"What time is it?" (Y/N) asked in a panicked voice which worried Maddy a bit.

"Calm down baby, it's only 12:14." Maddy responded in a reassuring voice, which caused (Y/N) to let out a heavy breath that she didn't realize she was holding in, showing that she was relived.

"Wait, how the hell did we sleep for 4 hours." (Y/N) asked confused

"I don't know, but let's get ready, bowling is at 5."

"Okay Mads, we can get ready." (Y/N) said with a smile and kissed Maddy's forehead.

~~~Really short time-skip~~~

The two girls changed into their outfits, Maddy finished her makeup, and was adding finishing touches to (Y/N's), she was sitting down while Maddy straddled her lap.

"Can I add diamonds to it?"

"Sure, why not." (Y/N) said smiling

Maddy put a few diamonds on (Y/N's) face and smiled as she added the last one. "Okay, I'm done, what do you think?" Maddy moved off of (Y/N) as she got up and walked towards the mirror.

"You know, I'm not the biggest fan of makeup, but when you do it, I love it." (Y/N) said which made Maddy smile and pull her into a warm embrace.

"Come on let's go." Maddy said while grabbing her bag and intertwining her hand with (Y/N's) and dragging her to the car.

Maddy was always the one driving, she loved to treat (Y/N) like the passenger princess, Maddy loved to give her the aux, which is rare because Maddy doesn't even let Kat or Cassie (when they were still friends) control the music, but she loves (Y/N) so it didn't matter.

Both girls had arrived, they met up with Kat, Jules, and Ethan, they went bowling for a couple hours until they eventually were tired of it. Maddy and (Y/N) parted ways with the others and drove back to (Y/N's) house. They both took showers, put their pajamas on, and did whatever they had to do to get ready for bed. (Y/N) let Maddy pick a movie as they both laid on her bed, in the same position they were earlier. Maddy couldn't even see the movie because of the position she was in, but she didn't care.

"Hey, Mads?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you"

"I love you too (Y/N)" Maddy says, as she leans up and kisses (Y/N) on the forehead.

A/N I DON'T KNOW IF THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED AND STUFF BUT HERE IT IS. IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT THEN JUST LMK AND TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT ME TO FIX :). I HAD FUN WRITING THIS THOUGH. LMK IF YOU HAVE ANY MORE REQUESTS, THEY ARE ALWAYS OPEN AND IM LIKE NEVER BUSY EVER 😭😭. BUT YEAH LMK IF YOU WANT ANYTHING TO BE FIXED IN THIS OR IF ITS NOT WHAT YOU WERE LOOKING FOR.

[edith-hyde]

Hey, I don't know if you still up for it ot whether you have some rules about requests, but I've seen your post about doing Peter Hale x reader and others. And I'd really like to see your general dating headcanons with Peter Hale or Chris Argent💛

I've got so many ideas for a Peter Hale series! I hope to start posting it eventually. I will gladly do a dating headcanons for him. And I'll throw in Chris too. Everything here will be safe for work, of course. Enjoy!

Dating Peter Hale

He was so scared to tell you the truth about what he was, but when you found out, you didn't care.

He loves showing off his money. Expect expensive gifts.

But he's not a fan of huge crowds, so no big fancy dinners. He much prefers to eat in private with just the two of you. Or maybe at some small place.

Does NOT like candle lit dinners. Nor a yule log at Christmas. Or grilling out.

You and he learn how to cook together because he's so used to just buying all his meals. There's a lot of burned chicken, but also a lot of joy and laughter and making out in the kitchen. (That's why it burned.)

He's very touch starved. When you first start dating, he flinches every time you touch him. It takes some time, but eventually he can't keep himself from reaching for your hand or laying on your shoulder. He's heavy but you're fine with it.

He wants to make all the plans so you don't have to worry about anything. Just trust him to know what's best.

If you have family, they probably aren't too fond of him. He brings expensive wine to get-togethers though, so that might put him in their good graces if they like that kind of thing. If not, he'll depend on his usual charms. It might take awhile, but they'd eventually accept that he's here to stay.

Expect calls in the middle of the night. Or he might just show up. He doesn't sleep well and he needs comfort from the nightmares. If he hasn't slept the night before, he will curl up in your lap on your sofa and sleep. Stroking his hair really helps. When he's truly comfortable with you, he's prone to just falling asleep just so long as you're somewhere nearby. He especially likes to nap while you're driving.

Loves to just walk with you in the woods.

He's surprisingly knowledgeable about furniture and helps you decorate your house or apartment.

He wants everyone to know that you belong to him. He purposefully nuzzles into your hair to leave his scent on you. He loves giving you his jacket too. All the werewolves in town know you're taken.

Despite his bravado, he's constantly worried that you're going to leave him. He needs regular assurances that you love him.

He gets jealous easily. Your guy friends might wanna watch out. And you might have to have a long talk with Peter and get it through his head that they're not a threat to your relationship. Once he's 100% sure, this calms down. But he still doesn't like men fliting with you.

You help him rebuild his relationship with Malia and he loves you even more for it. The three of you sometimes get together and do dinner. You're there to console her when she and Scott break up and you have to keep Peter from going to LA and trying to kill Scott for a third time.

He constantly brags about having you to Derek and anyone else who will listen.

He will listen to you rant about work and the people that bother you. Then he'll offer to take them out. You assume he's joking, but sometimes, if they really upset you, he totally means it.

He will show up at your work and pester you. It's distracting, but you love seeing him.

His name for you in his phone is "My Queen".

He gives great skin care advice and has a wonderful sense of fashion. Also knows all the best hair care products. He loves to take you shopping for new stuff and buys everything. He gets broody if you won't let him shower you in gifts.

Sometimes when he's emotional, his eyes will turn blue and he will turn away because he's worried about scaring you. When you kiss him despite his fangs, he knows you truly don't care. You're even kinda into it much to his amusement.

If he upsets you, expect a huge vase of flowers. If you're not a flowers person, he gets chocolates or some kind of jewelry. He knows he can't buy your affections, but that isn't going to stop him from trying. He will eventually give a proper apology, but he hates admitting that he was wrong. Consider yourself lucky if he does.

Dating Chris Argent

He's the sweetest thing on the planet. His tired blue eyes and sad smile make you melt every time.

He lights up every time he sees you.

He lets you pick where you go to dinner, though he usually surprises you with a home made meal. This man can cook and you love it.

Brings you coffee or hot chocolate almost every morning.

Mows your grass and fixes your car for you without being asked.

You like to watch him clean his guns after a mission.

Sometimes comes home with some pretty gnarly wounds. You always clean him up and make him promise it won't happen again. But it keeps happening anyways. He hates to make you worry, but he has a job to do.

Early in your relationship, he constantly tries to run. He's afraid that if you love him, you'll die like everyone else has. It takes you awhile, but you eventually manage to convince him that you're not going anywhere.

Date night is just diner and a movie on his couch. He's not a fan of hanging out in public. But he will go to the park with you on sunny days. If you have an interest in guns, he'll take you to a shooting range.

He likes to just dance with you around the kitchen when he's in a really good mood.

He takes you on trips to France after you've been together for awhile, and shows you all the best places away from the crowds.

If you have any family, they are wary of him at first, but then they love him. He's so respectful. Your mom wants you to marry him tomorrow.

He has some trouble sleeping and can often be found sitting on his back porch, having a beer at night. If you show up, he finds it easier to get some rest.

He will always do his best to keep you safe. He might even train you how to fight if you ask.

If he does train you, you like to distract him while sparring by kissing him. It works every time.

He often has Scott and his friends over for dinner. You love having so many fun people around.

In a perfect world, Isaac comes and visits often and once accidentally calls you mom. Chris thinks it's hilariously adorable.

If he upsets you, he gives a sincere apology. You can't stay mad at those sad blue eyes no matter how hard you try.

[bengiyo]

BL 2023 Review

I wasn’t sure how I wanted to write about BL for this year. I was originally going to do a The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly framework for it, but that feels meaner than I actually am about it. Instead, I think I’ll just write out some sections and unpack some things I felt along the way.

I Watched Too Much Again

Last year I engaged with about 92 productions around the world. This year it was 99 (I tracked stuff I completed here). Sure I dropped 18 of them this year, but goddamn. The problem with watching as much as I did this year is that I worked full time this year and also maintained a separate hobby. I also continued my twice-weekly watch sessions with my friend Emily, so there are an additional 100-ish watch sessions in here of rewatching, plus a few other rewatches (Theory of Love and My Ride most notably).

One of my struggles at this point is I’m far too familiar with the genre, and find myself feeling impatient and irritable with shows that aren’t to my taste the way I used to. Throughout the late summer and fall I found myself increasingly grumpier about the genre, and it didn’t get better until I had a holiday and basically slept a day to get some energy back. I also found myself growing apart from fans I’ve known and followed a long time. It’s been a difficult year for me as a long-time fan because my tastes, habits, and friendships in the genre have changed even if the amount I watch hasn’t really.

I Wrote a Lot This Year

I recently converted my watch tag away from my gaming internet persona to just my shortname, so all near-1000 of my Stray Thoughts posts can be found under #ben watches now. I’ve also been going back and adding #ben writes to some of the standalone pieces that I really liked. In reviewing them, the pieces I’m happiest about are my ode to Framboise from Kabe Koji Nekoyashiki-kun Desires to Be Recognized, my post begging everyone to watch La Pluie, my post about what it means to actually like queer men, my SBS ep 10 post that ended up being wrong, my post about the Lavender Scare and Be My Favorite, my Tokyo in April is… post about the breaking of the BL line,

However, the two posts I am most proud of is my half-joking response about why I think tagging each other back and forth across Tumblr in our writing is so important. and The Knowing: Being Queer in BL because I had so much great conversations with folks as a result of both of these posts.

Looking back at my own blog, this is probably the most active I’ve been in my entire time on this website, so thank you to everyone who interacted with me this year, because it really is people talking to me that gets me most inspired to write things down. Big shout out to @lurkingshan who will bug me repeatedly until I blog something that I said in passing.

We Started a Podcast!

After hanging out with @shortpplfedup since Bad Buddy, she got inspired and really wanted to bring something different to the BL podcasting sphere. I had time, and liked talking with her enough, so we started @the-conversation-pod. Now we’re a full year into it and planning out future stuff. It’s been so much fun being able to get things off my soul and break poor NiNi in our recording sessions.

From this year, I think my favorite episodes we did were The Moonlight Chicken Episode, the Eighth Sense episode, the ITSAY Anniversary Episodes,  The Wedding Plan episode, , and The Holiday Clip Show. Huge shout out to @ginnymoonbeam for anchoring the transcription process, and @lurkingshan for editing.

The VIIB Awards will begin airing soontm so look forward to that.

Favorite New Term: Business Gay Performance

Let��s be clear, Bump Up Business is not good. It is an obvious BL cash grab from OnlyOneOf that seeks to comment on the fake nature of BL while doing everything it can to trick the audience into believing that the BL pair is real.

Before we got deeper into this year, I was a big fan of a certain pairing, and then their fans took it too far and it affected the way I engaged with their performances and their work. I like that we have a new term for “fanservice” that communicates that you understand that this is for work. (thanks to NiNi for this comparison) I can look at the latest behind the scenes video from Last Twilight and say that I think Sea really understands the work they’re doing, and he and Jimmy have a very relaxed and mature version of BGP without feeling like I’m feeding into shipping.

Do I think they’re dating? No. Do I like the way they fake it? Absolutely!

I can look at one of @respectthepetty posts about Yin and War having personalized, color-coded mics, and we can talk about the next level BGP between the two and both communicate that we know that this is a performance.

It actually makes the extra PR work fun for me again, because now I can just shout “BGP! BGP! BGP!” and it not feel like I’m giving myself brainrot.

Thai BL Needs to Finish Stronger Next Year

Let’s get into some of the show stuff. This year was defined for me by Thai BL starting strong with good premises and then squandering them by not focusing on the details that mattered or leaning into baseless melodrama. Time for some reads. Some of these shows were generally good, but they failed at these things:

609 Bedtime Story: The world building crumpled in the back half and both endings are flat.

A Boss and a Babe: Cher is a pro gamer who worked for a gaming company and there was no plot point about this at all, or collaboration between the two groups.

Bake Me Please: Why was a show about cake so lacking in flavor?

Be Mine SuperStar: You had a real opportunity to explore a fan and idol romance and had Punn show so little growth. I hope the footage of First’s range is helpful now that Ja is out of BL.

Be My Favorite: You redid that whole amusement park date and muddled so much of what the hell happened on that day.

Between Us: You had years to make this interesting. Why are there five pairs and why is the end of this a JC Penny catalog photoshoot?

Dangerous Romance: What the fuck happened to the Sailom we had in episode 1 and 2 before that gun incident?

Hidden Agenda: Tee, what the hell was this? Twelve weeks of this?

I Feel You Linger in the Air: You may be the most beautiful show, with some of the most impressive performances of the year, but you absolutely botched this ending. Finish the goddamn season next time.

Love in Translation: I love you, but that whole kidnapping plot was so stupid at the end.

Low Frequency: I like your OST. That's about it.

My Dear Gangster Oppa: No examination about how gaming friendships become close quickly because of the combination of anonymity and teamwork (shout out to @twig-tea for this excellent summation).

My School President: Saving your gay commentary for the final episode felt like a conservative choice. I want more from you next time.

Naughty Babe: You retconned your own characters to tell a worse story. Unforgiveable.

Never Let Me Go: You didn’t know if you wanted to be a high school BL or a mafia story. It was difficult to watch.

Only Friends: I cannot believe you did Boston like that at the end. Either give Force’s character a clear personality next time, or keep him enigmatic; half measures make him and Book look worse. Sand was absolutely embarrassing. Boeing was a waste. Ending on all of them paired like that felt so unearned.

Step By Step: You forgot to ground Jeng’s external dreams at the end, so the final two episodes are just frustrating.

I’m glad I got that off my chest. We can go into the next year now.

Korea Put in the Work This Year

I really like the efforts from the various Korean studios this year. I really hope we get a Strongberry joint next year, but I want to acknowledge that we had 18 Korean BL dramas I watched this year, and at least three of them I think are must watches: Our Dating Sim, Sing My Crush, and The Eighth Sense. Beyond that, I think Love Tractor, Unintentional Love Story, and A Breeze of Love are easy recommendations.

It’s really impressive how the complaint for me this year with Korean BL is not about them using their time poorly. It’s more about normal drama concerns, where I think characterization is a little weak, or a theme doesn’t land squarely. This rapid iteration from the Korean studios is really impressive to watch, and I’m excited to see what some of the recognized players do next year.

Taiwan and The Philippines Have Been Quiet for Me

I wasn’t really able to connect with much from the Philippines this year except for The Day I Loved You. I never wrote about The Day I Loved You, but this beautiful and heart wrenching show is one of my favorites from this year. I wasn’t too keen on the Oxin Films offerings of this year, and I’m still chasing down the ones from The IdeaFirst Company.

As for Taiwan, this new BL project from the end of the year just isn’t hitting. Kiseki: Dear to Me also ended up really hurting me with the way they used Wayne Song and Huang Chun Chih. I love that angry little man with the white hair, but I’m still salty about Wayne and the general mess of that show.

Japan was Busy This Year

I watched 16 new shows, a few older ones, and a few movies this year from Japan. We haven’t gotten this much from them ever. I continue to love the Drama Shower project from MBS, and my beloved What Did You Eat Yesterday? returned this year. We had pretty stellar outings with Our Dining Table, If It’s With You, and I Cannot Reach You.

I think a third of the Japanese BL I’ve tracked on MDL actually released this year. That’s huge.

Still, I am going to side eye Minato’s Laundromat 2. You were the show that let me down the most this entire year. More than Only Friends, more than Step By Step, and even more than Kiseki. You absolutely blew it. You were telling a great story about a man with an acute case of internalized homophobia coming out of his shell and learning to love his younger partner and you blew it for stupid amnesia nonsense. I will never forgive you for this.

Where Were All the Uncles This Year?

Really, without Jim from Moonlight Chicken, and without the men from What Did You Eat Yesterday? we had an alarming dearth of older gay characters passing on knowledge and wisdom to the youngsters this year. What the hell happened?

Rare Dynamics Won: Second Chance Romance and Friends to Lovers!

We had so much second chance romance this year. It’s really my favorite version of gay romance because gays don’t always have ideal settings when they’re young. We had Our Dating Sim, Individual Circumstances, Jun & Jun, The End of the World With You, Tokyo in April is…, Be My Favorite, Love Class Season 2, and A Breeze of Love. I am satisfied.

Friends to Lovers is actually so rare in romance and we have so many to choose from this year! The best examples are I Cannot Reach You and Sing My Crush, but we also have one of the pairs in Love Class Season 2.

Gay Thoughts

I had a couple of ongoing thoughts this year about queerness in BL.

First, I want to return to my post about Sing My Crush and La Pluie, and how I assert that Men Need to Be Angry Sometimes. More than giving men grace to be righteously angry or upset about things, along with letting them express it in ugly ways, I really want to get into how we engage with these shows. I will stop engaging with moralistic reads on characters in 2024. I will no longer engage with asks, reblogs, or meta gripping the fandom where we're judging the moral fiber of the character.

The question that really only matters for me at this point is: Is this act from the character justified from their characterization, the narrative, or genre conventions; and is it interesting? Whether or not the character is good or bad reeks of the lame arguments about good and bad representation, and I am not watching BL like I’m being graded in Sunday school.

The second thing I really want to acknowledge at the end of the year is that the gay sex is finally getting better again. I watched The Novelist this year, and we have taken so long to get back to the space that show took us on the portrayal of male-male intimacy. We are in the genre about people with dicks. It should feel like it. There should be a masculine component there that feels specific to queer intimacy.

I will acknowledge 2 Cutie 2 Pie, A Boss and a Babe, Be Mine SuperStar, Bed Friend, Candy Color Paradox, For Him, I Cannot Reach You, Kiseki: Dear to Me, La Pluie, Love Class 2, Love in Translation, Love Mate, Middleman’s Love, Naughty Babe, Only Friends, The End of the World With You, Tokyo in April is…, and Wedding Plan for your contributions.

Final Thoughts

I like how broad the genre felt this year, and I enjoyed how much speculative fiction is entering into the conversation. I don’t know how I feel about there being five vampire stories in the works next year, but overall I’m glad that we’re getting more experimental concepts. I’m burnt out on the college engineering BL, and would like to see more shows about working adults.

Despite how grumpy I was for at least three months, I think this has genuinely been one of the best years we’ve ever had in the genre. I made a lot of new friends in BL this year, and I’m excited to see what comes next. Thank you all for spending some of your time with me this year and I’ll see you in the next one.

[romana-after-dark]

Room's on Fire: Girl on Fire

Dark!Santiago Garcia x Fem!Reader Dark!Francisco Morales x Fem!Reader Dark!William Miller x Fem!Reader Dark!Benjamin Miller x Fem!Reader

Also: FishBen, and an assortment of other M/M relationships (no Millercest). Everyone is Bisexual

Series Masterlist: Main Masterlist : MainTaglist

Spotify playlist

Summery: Everyone is together, everything is complete.

Warnings and Content:

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

DUB CON MOSTLY but there WILL BE NON CON. Major character deaths, forced breeding, physical abuse, brainwashing, manipulation, violence, gore, alcoholism/addiction, BIG OLE BLASPHEMY WARNING like this cult appropriates a lot of religious themes and they call reader their Madonna, Santi is called the Pope, like all that stuff. However, this is a cult so I mean. It happens. None of it are my thoughts on religion or meant to make fun of religion or demonize religious people. Disgusting views on virginity. Attempted rape outside the boys. T*m warning. Age gap. Creepy terrible men. Non-reader rape, dub con, violence. Covert incest, massive mommy issues, sexual abuse all around, past grooming by parental figure. no CSA but the victim isn't much older. some Bates Motel type shit. I cannot properly warn you for everything, without just telling the story but consider this a major warning that there are dark dark themes. No one involved here is morally clean, and who you perceive as the good guy cannot be relied on. Don't come to my story and say im romanticizing these things until at least the story ends.

WARNINGS HAVE BEEN UPDATED!!!

Extra warnings for chapter: Pregnancy, breeding kink, violent sex, domestic violence on a man, gunshots, references to murder,, death, torture, all the horrors. The end was disturbing even to me, so read with caution. If you find the end was too much, just ask me what happens and I'll tell you. not super plot important but like it was pointed out, the sex is how we see dynamic shifts. Mentions of mpreg fantesy but no mpreg will happen bc they arent actually god, just insane.

3.7k words

A/N: Some pov shifts. Madonna, Jonah, Rey, Santi all get POV's.

A.N2: context for song quote, Alicia wrote girl on fire after the birth of her son.

Support writers! Reblog and leave comments!

"She's on top of the world Hottest of the hottest girls say Oh, we got our feet on the ground And we're burning it down Oh, got our head in the clouds And we're not coming down This girl is on fire" ~ Girl On Fire, Alicia Keys

“It’s okay, you’re gonna do great.” Rey assured her, sitting on a table in the dressing room despite a chair being right there. His lanky legs liked to dangle, you noticed, or sometimes perch up in high places. He reminded you of a bird sometimes, lithe and graceful and seemed to float on his feet.

“What if they don’t like me? What if something happens? What if there’s another uprising or someone wants revenge on me because of my dad-”

“The people love you, and they were going to love you even more with this announcement. Jonah’s not going to let anything happen to you, you know that.”

Your face grows warm at the mention of Jonah. He had acted distant with you since the instance of Frankie and you on the horse, and wouldn’t let you see his face when he showed up the next morning with bruises. In fact, you’d hardly seen him at all. Rey was your primary guard, and Will had talked about moving your room to one with an attached room for Reyansh so that he could stay with you at all times. It seemed everyone knew Iris and Rey were an item, or at least they understood Reyansh was not a threat. You had begged Will not to switch around rooms. The reason given was that you liked your room, but really, you were hoping that you’d be moved into a room with one of your husbands. You weren’t visited by the incubus the night they all slept in your room.

Still, Jonah looked out for you. Under your dress right now was his bulletproof vest. 

A knock on the door.

“Come in.” Iris called to the door, still working on your hair.

Will entered the room. “Are you ready, Madonna?”

Before you opened your mouth, Iris replied. “You could use her real name, you know.”

Will didn’t look at her, keeping his eyes on you. “Her name is irrelevant, her position is everything.” When he turns and sees Reyansh, Will frowns. “What are you doing in here?”

Iris was quick to answer his unvoiced question. “He only came in after she was dressed.”

He instructs Reyansh to ready the carriage. Once he was out, Will turned to you with a smile. “You look stunning, Madonna.” Your heart swells with love for your handsome husband, dressed in his loose white shirt. In your hair, small white flowers adored you, carefully placed and worked in by Iris’s hands. She was incredible, making your dress too. It was colorful, with a color representing all four of your husbands. Under it, a bulletproof vest. No one in delta outside of guardsmen was allowed guns, but he wanted to be safe.

“Wow…” Will whispers, taking you in. There was just the slightest swell of a bump, you wondered if it was just weight gained from eating more these few months. Will took you into his arms kissing you deeply and feeling your stomach. Iris mumbles close enough as you’re pulled away. He turns back to her only a moment. “Make sure everything is ready when we’re back, please.”

Iris sighs, “It always is, Mr. Miller.”

*

Jonah cocked his gun. “Same as last time, honey. Anything happens, you come with me. Those guys can handle themself. I get hurt, do not stop for me. Just run. Someone will come find you, you just keep yourself alive, got it?” His brown eyes were on you for the first time in a long time, and you relaxed. Jonah’s eyes always calm you. It’s scary, knowing you were responsible for not just you, but someone else as well. The priestess stood at the balcony to the side, your husbands flanking you. Pope to your right, Francisco to your left, Ben to his left and Will to Popes right. Just as you were married.

“Men! Women! Children of Delta!” She shouts to the crown. “I present your Gods and your Madonna!” The crowd erupts into screams, and your heart fills with love for your people. “And!” A hush falls over the ground, waiting breaths quiet as they wait for the news. “I present to you, THE SAVIOR!”

The sound was deafening, a noise that shocked you and made you stumble back. To your surprise, Pope was behind you. It was a greater surprise when he rucked up your skirt.

Immediately your hands, out of instinct, go to bring the material down but his fingers quickly dig into your skin, warning you to behave. So, you stand there, humiliated, left hand gripping Francisco’s tighter. Pope loved you, he loved you and he’d never do something just to humiliate you! How stupid of you for feeling that way. This child was long prayed for, they and your body belonged to your husbands, belonged to Delta. Pope lifted your dress over the small bump,exposing your underwear to the crown. No one outside of your husband, a few house motherns and prefects had seen you in your underwear, so this was difficult…

But then Pope kissed your neck, and the worries melted away. Will, Francisco and Ben come to you, each placing a hand on your stomach as the priestess shouts, reaffirming that the savior’s parentage was of all four, that each of your husbands fathered this baby. You were called the vessel for their seed.

Then, you were placed on a tour. On a sitting carriage with all 4 of your husbands, you were paraded around to cheering people, the faces of women from your dormitory and even your room recognizable in the crowds. One woman whose bed was next to yours shot you a deadly glare as you passed by. She was mean, frequently detailing her escapades with Ben and throwing your own lack of attention in your face, but who was laughing now? Ben choose her for a short term fuck. You had a greater purpose.

When you reached the mansion again, the gates were crowded with people reaching out for you, and although there was fear as the mass of the crowd grew, there was also power. The savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned lay in your holy womb, you were the bringer of life. YOU were the divine mother.

The gunshot brought you back to reality.

*

“WILL!” You scream as your husband is shot backwards, stumbling into his brother’s arms who he shoved out of the way of the bullet. Jonah didn’t care about Will, however. He didn’t care about Ben falling at him brothers side under the weight. He didn’t even care about Francisco scrambling to grab at Ben in the chaos, and he certainly didn’t care about Santiago dragging Frankie away.

He cared about, sobbing in his arms desperately trying to get to your fallen love. Jonah wrapped an arm around you and pulled you away into the riotous, scampering crowd. You needed to get away from the shooter. 

“NO!” You bawl loudly. Howling that he’s dying, that you need to be with him, but Jonah didn’t give a shit about that prick. He calls to Reyansh, who jumped out of the carriage the second the gun goes off. It was intentional, having Rey at the helm with him; only Rey would care enough about you out of all the guardsmen that Jonah could depend on him. Into the madness, you wouldn’t stop screaming and that rainbow dress of yours was not helping the situation. 

“Rey! The tunic!” Jonah had to spin you around to disorient you enough to make you stop fighting in your hysteria, forcing your arms up while Rey slid a long, brown standard tunic over your body, making you blend into the neutral tones on the crown. Jonah clamped down over your mouth and pulled you away as the center of the shooting grew further away, Reynash covering you both. Once at the posting for a guard, Rey held you as Jonah mounted the steed and pulled you up, riding off with you.

*

You hadn't stopped sobbing for hours. Reyansh watched in concern, wanted so badly to comfort you lest the heaving and thrashing harm the baby or yourself. Rey loved children, he couldn’t wait for a day he could take Iris away and raise a family together, to finally be with her intimately and live a life with her. 

Even if children weren’t in the picture (Iris wanted one in theory, but was hesitant to bring one into this world, understandably.) he’d cherish a life growing old with his lover. Maybe they’d some orphaned child; Iris had a soft spot for children in need. Her maternal instincts are why, despite not wanting to be friends or even really know her, Iris took care of the girl. Iris had ten years on the naive child. Continuously, she had warned him about keeping his distance, not raising suspicion that anything was happening between him and the girl, but it wasn’t his fault she was damn delightful. However, despite her obvious beauty, talents and sweet demeanor, nothing compared to Iris.

Reyansh could wax poetry about her all day long, and often did. He barely had any free time, most of the pockets of time he had, Rey liked to help Iris with her Herculean tasks, the laundry and dishes like Sisyphus and the boulder. He couldn’t take away the fact the next day would be filled with more dishes, more wall washing, more cooking, but he’d gladly sacrifice an hour of sleep so she could gain one. With him at all times, however, was his notebook and pen. As he sat at a mount or perch Rey liked to try his hand at poetry and writing. 

Sometimes it was about the beauty of nature, the flowers he planted and gardens he kept, how they gave him joy during difficult times. Sometimes it was about the complex nature of family, of Iris and Jonah, Santiago and what he knew of Beatriz, which wasn’t much, the strained love and hatred between Will and Ben, or his own desire for fatherhood. Sometimes he wrote about the 5 lovers, the girl, the men who claimed to be gods, how each individual relationship strengthened them and weakened them in their own ways and how the girl changed things for better or for worse. Mostly, he just wrote about Iris, the prettiest flower he had.

He caught a glimpse of Jonah at the window, motioning him to come out. This safe house was his idea. Apparently, he and Marcus used to escape here sometimes.

Rey tries to tell you he’s stepping outside but you aren’t listening, curled up in a ball on the bed sobbing. He makes his exit.

Once outside, Jonah offers him a sip from his flask but Rey declines.

“I was going to ask how she is, but I can hear my answer.” The sound of you wailing penetrates the walls.

“How Will?”

“He’ll live, unfortunately.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.” Jonah sighs, lighting a cigarette. “Wish those fuckers would just die.”

There was a long pause, Reyansh thinking hard before saying what he was thinking. He didn’t defy or talk back to Jonah, he respected him as his superior and, for all intents and purposes, his father in law. But Jonah was flawed. “You’re the one with a gun, Jonah”

Jonah inhaled a long drag before answering in a puff of smoke. “We’ve been over this.” He walked into the safe house.

They had talked, several times. Rey wanted Iris out but he didn’t have much power and knowledge. Jonah had the gun and a hundred reasons not to. There was no way to kill all 4 because everyone was armed. The community would riot. There was no where safe to go. A failed attempted would end Iris’s life. All these may be true, Jonah did have 4 decades of guard experience… but really, Rey thought he was just a coward, and maybe he cared for Pope and/or Francisco more than he’d like to admit. He’d been with those two since infancy, helped raise them, been a father figure most of their lives… it was understandable.

When he walked into the house, it was to crying but this time, relieved. He must have told her Will would be okay. You had your arms wrapped around his neck and he held you close to him, rubbing your back.

“It’s gonna be okay, honey, everyone’s gonna be just fine.”

*

Ben was changing Will’s bandages when you walked in and it made you nauseous to see the blood. Jonah said the bullet went straight through, that he’d be okay he just needed to rest, but the sight was disturbing.

Will groans. “Baby, don’t want you seeing me like this.”

Benny flicks his brothers arm. “Let her be, she was worried about you.”

The older Miller grumbled, but allowed you to kneel his side. He thumbed away a tear, “Don’t cry for me, beautiful girl.”

“What happened?” You sniffle, looking between Benny and Will.

“A girl from the dorms, she took the gun off a guard and tried to shoot-”

Ben interrupted. “You, Madonna.” He looked to his brother. “Melody, your old roommate, she tried to shoot you out of jealousy, she wanted to be with me. Will pushed you aside, took the bullet.”

You blink at that. Melondy wanted to shoot you? She wanted you dead? And Will. was he even standing by you? “But… I don’t remember being pushed.”

“Oh sweet girl…” Will cood. “Do you not remember? Poor thing, it was probably so traumatic-”

“No, I remember-”

“Your brain probably blocked a lot of it out, repressed it to protect you.”

Yeah, yeah that made sense. Memory was fragile. Will winced and Ben finished cleaning him and you took his hand as a new packing kit was applied. “Thank you for saving me…” You kiss his hand, feeling the rough knuckles warm skin. “For saving our baby…”

You fell asleep beside him that night, laying on his chest. He was warm, firm, inviting and protective. Nothing mattered more than the fact your husbands and your baby were safe.

Melody was dead. After the first shot missed, she approached where the four men had gathered intent on finding you, but Ben said Pope shot her square in the forehead, that he protected you while Jonah and Reyansh took you to safety. Ben said he had stood in front of his brothers and you, fearless, brave and bold. Pope loved his people, but he loved you most of all.

When you awoke, it was lae evening and although you wanted to go back to sleep, after some tossing and turning you realized you could. Not wanting to wake Will, you check his pulse and breathing, both strong and head out of the room to see if anyone is up. You know they dont like you wandering around the mansion without protection but you weren’t a child.

After Jonah and Rey had taken you back home, you were desperate to see William, but Pope demanded your presence with Francisco, both holding you tightly and checking you over again and again, tell you how precious you were, how loved. Pope knelt in front of you, hands on your belly, kissing it. You were thankful to have such loving and protective husbands. Despite the horrors of today, you felt blessed beyond measure 

You came to the kitchen first seeing a light on. Sometimes Benny liked late night snacks. Instead, you see Iris and Reyansh slow dancing in the kitchen. Iris was actually smiling. No doubt Rey was fearful of his own women’s safety being forced in the cabin with you for so long after a riot broke out right outside where she was. Silent, you step away from the cute lovers and allow them their time. Rey helped save your life today, you needed to thank him, and thank Iris for all she did for your family, you were lucky to have them both.

You try to see if Pope is awake next. When you approach his room, the grunting sounds make you stop, peaking through the slightly cracked door. Pope was on top of Francisco, fucking into his ass with his legs bent up into a press. It was a position he used on you many a time. Francisco was a puddle beneath him, his curls stuck to the sweat on his head. He looked incredible. The way Pope kissed him so deep… You couldn’t help feeling warm inside. How lucky you were that your husbands loved each other so much.

Ben was found in the gym. For a moment, you merely watch him. Shirtless in his red shorts and throwing punches at a punching bag. He probably had so much energy in him after everything today, watching his brother bleeding in his arms. She knew they didn’t always get along, Ben holding anger for Will so often and over what, you couldn’t yet discern. Maybe this tragedy would bring them back together. You admire his body, carved out and chiseled in perfect form. 

You loved the bodies of all your husbands, in each and every different.

Will was largess; tall, muscular, wide everywhere. Everywhere. His body consumed you just as yours consumed him; he was like a shield, metaphorically and now literally.

Santiago was softer. A small belly that was only noticeable when he was bent over, plush though and a moon shaped ass. He was all curves, from his nose down to his calved you had massaged so ardently.

If Pope was soft, Francisco was a pillow. Heavy weight surrounded him, the broad expanse of his shoulders to the fat at his waist and you just wanted to bury your face into it, you want to bite, nibble, and worship the pudge that spilled over his pants.

Ben was lean, the tallest of them and slim hips under rippling muscles. Golden God, beholden before you and it was as if his glory radiated off him. Despite the strength he was light on his feat. He could have been a boxer in another life.

“How are you feeling?” His deep voice breaks the tranfiction of the way his body moved, stilling the punching bag.

“I’m good, just woke from a nap with Will.”

Still looking away, Ben nodded. His mood matched the storm clouds out the window. After wiping his face, Benny chugged water and then finally made his way over to you in long, quick strides. His eyes flashed with the lightning outside.

*

Pope fucked Frankie with a fury he couldn’t recall in years. Frankie had defined him, ignoring his orders to leave but no, he wanted to stay with Ben. 

“You don’t think I wanted Ben and Will safe too?” He growled in his lovers ear. 

“I know!”

“You’re more important!”

He almost lost Will, Ben, the savior, and most importantly Frankie today. The girl would pay, fuck she’d pay. He couldn’t do anything Madonna might see, she thinks she’s dead already… no, a gunshot was to quick for someone trying to harm his family, but he’d make her suffer.

His anger toward Francisco wouldn't be helped when today, when he went to make love to Frankie, he found him in Ben's arms, cumming on his hand.

*

Ben had you pinned against the wall, fucking into you with your legs hitched around his narrow hips. The wind outside picked up speed, displaying his anger, his frustration, his love and his lust. You let him take you, fucking into your pregnant womb with his face tucked in your neck. You felt as if you were floating, like you were the center of the world right now. The sun God orbited you. Someone had tried to take you from him, a women he used to claim as his own but she had been cast aside for a reason. In her jealousy, she though she could regain her place at his side but that was foolish. Ben would never have loved her the way he loved you, the way he loved his husbands. Will, Francisco and Pope could never love her. 

She was not the Madonna.

She could never carry the savior.

She could only ever have a bastard.

*

“Gonna fill you up, Frank.” Pope grunted, breath hot against Francisco's cheek, mouth to mouth, lips to lips. “Gonna fill up this tight little hole of yours until you’re pregnant with my baby, you got that?”

Frank’s eyes went wide. “Santi, wha-” But he stopped when Santiago slapped him. This shocked Frankie, Santi didn’t slap him, he didn’t hurt him like that…

“Take it!” Santiago screams, tears of anger blurring his eyes. He chose Ben over him. He’d rather stay in danger with Ben than safety with him. “Your mine, under stand?!” When Frankie didn’t answer right away, Pope gripped his jaw and felt a warm tear fall down his cheek. “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!”

*

Long fingers gripping your asscheeks, digging into the sensitive skin.

Firm abs rubbing against your body.

Hips stimulating your clit.

A finger fucking into your asshole. 

Everything was better than your wildest dreams. No incubus, a child on the way, friends and family. This was a life your father tried to take from you, but you were like gold that’s tested in fire.

Ben came inside when the thunder cracked, lightning still flashing and illuminating him with light. He muttered Francisco’s name.

*

“YES!” Francisco shouted in pain, face grimacing. “I’m yours! I’m yours Santi, fill me up! Make me-” He swallowed, tears forming at his long lashes. He gritted his teeth. “Make me p-pregnant!”  Francisco was saying anything that'd make Santi stuff, just to make him cum and end this. He just wanted it over. All of it. He didn't understand why he wasn't allow to be happy, to feel safe, to have peace. Instead he had to submit to Santi's whims just like Beatriz.

Santiago tucked his face into his lovedrsneck, biting him as he came inside. Whimpering, tears streaming wildly down his face, Santiago bit into Frankie’s tender flesh: neck, then shoulder, till finally he just continuously bit into the skin on his large arm, drawing the blood and bruising the skin. It hurt like hell, Frankie's head thrashing back and forth on the pillow trying to take the pain and bare it. Santiago's tears mixed with blood as he finished cumming, thrusts slowing into a lul.

Francisco didn’t know where his body ended and Santi’s began.

He wanted Ben, to be held and protected by him. To be touched gently, with love. To be not possessed but show off so that he knew Ben was proud of him, proud of what they had, not what the fuck Santigo was doing to him. He wanted Madonna with her sweet kisses and open adoration. He wanted Will with his healing nature, tender hands on his arching, bleeding arm. He wanted anything but Santi’s touch right now.

Santiago curled behind Francisco. His hand rested on Frankie’s stomach.

***********

This disturbed me writing the end asdfghjkl

Madonna crying Reminds me of tww bonus chapter where little one thinks joel is dead and is just ugly sobbing

Madonna has... a lot to process today, and absolutly no therapy and no one she can be honest with about what she's witnessing.

I hope you all enjoyed... or .... something....???

Thoughts on Santis episode, Benny having a fit because he wanted Frankie but had to take madonna, will being shot, madonna is pregant, rey's thoughts!!!!! Jonah protecting madonna, etc.

UUUHHHHH poll?

love you all dearly <3 I hope to get at least one more tf fic for the triple frontier anniverary evnt before the end, and maybe something else like a TWW bonus chapter i've been wanting, but no gurantees. next week is spring break and i have 10k worth of commissions to write so il be busy! I wanna get the last chapter of my handmaids tale au out though, end that baby <3

also if you havn't yet, consider following me on my main @romanarose because im like 20 followers away from 2k and once i do, ill be open to writing stuff for a celebration!

Please consider joining me in in donating to humanitarian aid in Rafah through Doctors Without Borders

LOVE YOU ALL!

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If I forgot someone or you'd like to be added/removed LMK!

[stargazer-sims]

First Visitor

Nora: Your place is great, Forest.

Forest: Thanks. You know, I feel like I should be mad about my dads kicking me out, but I'm kinda not. I like it here so far.

Nora: What's not to like? This is a nice little spot, and you've got your freedom. No annoying siblings, nobody yelling at you or telling you what to do.

Forest: Nobody yelled at me at home either.

Nora: But the other stuff still applies.

Forest: Yeah, and now I can finally be myself. Know what I mean?

Nora: I do know what you mean. And you know what? I'll bet a lot of people are super envious of you right now for getting out and finally being free.

Forest: You think so?

Nora: Totally.

Forest: Like who?

Nora: People who are dying to move out 'cause they're sick of their parents' bullshit. Who needs a curfew, or your parents being all weird about who you date? I do what I want, and Cody doesn't care who I invite over to our place.

Forest: Cody's your boyfriend?

Nora: Not really. Students can't have a teacher as their boyfriend. Another stupid rule, but I don't want him to get fired, so...

Forest: He's a teacher?

Nora: Yeah. You know Mr. MacAllister? The guy that's on his work placement from uni? It's him, but he's only going to be at our school until December, and then he's going back to university in January to finish his program. He's like my roommate with... secret benefits, you could say.

Forest: Benefits? You mean, like, you slept with him?

Nora: Why do you look so shocked? Don't tell me you and Caroline never did it.

Forest: We didn't, actually.

Nora: Well, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Caroline is obsessed with rules. Her parents probably told her she wasn't allowed and she just blindly followed along. Uh... no pun intended.

Forest: No, I don't think her parents told her she wasn't allowed. She said she didn't want to, and I respected that.

Nora: If she said she did want to, would you have done it?

Forest: Probably. Like, I don't really know how, but we would've figured it out, right? Camellia and Hayden did, and I'm pretty sure Caroline's friend Rainbow has too. Like, a lot, 'cause she's always talking about it.

Nora: I heard a rumour that Rainbow did it in the janitor's room with some alien guy. Not that I blame her. The risk of getting caught makes it so much more exciting.

Forest: Did you ever do it in there?

Nora: Not yet. I'm waiting for the right person to come along.

Forest: Such as?

Nora: Maybe you, if you're up for it.

Forest: I already told you, I don't know how.

Nora: That's not a problem. I can teach you a few things, but it mostly comes naturally anyway, once you get started.

Forest: I kinda want to, but...

Nora: I'll bet Caroline's gonna do it with her new boyfriend. You don't want her to get ahead of you, do you?

Forest: If she wouldn't do it with me, I doubt she'd do it with Ben.

Nora: Seriously? Have you seen him? She probably just didn't want to do it with you because she wanted some jock. You know how athletes are. Totally obsessed with perfection.

Forest: Do you really think that's it?

Nora: Of course it is. You didn't live up to her expectations, so she kicked you to the curb like trash. Now me, on the other hand... I'm interested in getting to know you for who you are, and I can really appreciate a soft body too. Men like you are way more cuddly then guys like Ben.

Forest: You think I'm a man?

Nora: Unless there's something you're not telling me, or I missed too many biology classes.

Forest: It's not that. It's just that it makes me sound grown up.

Nora: Well, you are independent now, aren't you? How many little boys do you know who're living on their own?

Forest: Good point.

Nora: Ooh... I just thought of something!

Forest: What?

Nora: We should go to the Harvest Dance together. Imagine how mad Caroline will be when she sees you having a good time and not moping around because she broke up with you.

Forest: You really want to go to the dance with me?

Nora: Why wouldn't I?

Forest: You never seemed interested in me before. Like that, I mean. Like a boyfriend.

Nora: I didn't want to be accused of trying to steal my cousin's boyfriend, did I? I could hardly have asked you out while you still had Caroline hanging onto you, but we don't have that problem any more. Now I can have you all to myself.

Forest: All this time, you really wanted to ask me out?

Nora: Mm-hmm. So, will you go to the dance with me?

Forest: I wasn't planning to go, but yeah. Now that I officially have a date, why not?

Nora: Great. I already have the perfect dress.

Forest: What's it like?

Nora: Let me keep that a surprise, but I think you'll appreciate it. It hugs all my curves.

Forest: So, like most of your normal clothes, then?

Nora: You've noticed.

Forest: Kinda hard not to, honestly. You do get dress-coded a lot.

Nora: Stupid dress code. Teachers just don't understand freedom of expression. If you've got something to show off, you should be allowed to show it off. That's what I think. School has too many dumb rules.

Forest: If you don't like it, why are you still in school? You're on your own, so you could quit if you wanted to, right?

Nora: I could, but if I didn't go to school, how would I get my daily entertainment? High school is way better than any soap opera.

Forest: Is it really worth the hassle, though? I'm kind of thinking about quitting. My boss at the pizza shop would probably give me full-time hours if I was available.

Nora: If you do it, let me know and I'll quit with you. We could get a place together, and we could do whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted.

Forest: I don't know if that's really a good pl—

Nora: Shh... no more serious talk. You need to learn some stuff before we go out together.

Forest: Is this okay? Shouldn't there be like, consent or whatever?

Nora: I consent. If you consent too, we're good. Besides, it's just kissing. It's not like we're taking each other's clothes off or something. I mean, not that I don't want to take your clothes off you, but...

Forest: I don't want anyone to take their clothes off.

Nora: It's cool. We can save that for another time. Now, show me your skills and stop worrying.

Forest: *whispering* Is this good?

Nora: You're a quick study.

Forest: Thanks.

Nora: I never would've guessed this is your first time kissing a girl.

Forest: It's technically not my first time. I've kissed Caroline on the cheek a few times.

Nora: You're adorable, Forest.

Forest: Is that a good thing?

Nora: *laughing*

Nora: I'd better get going, but I'll come back tomorrow if you want, or you can come over to my place.

Forest: I'd like to come over to your place, if that's okay.

Nora: Awesome. I can't wait to show you around. It's not a very big apartment, but I have an amazing bedroom. I think you'll really like it.

[newkatzkafe2023]

Alrighty, so... What if s/o was starting to overwork themselves and not really notice. Whether it's from going to work, doing chores or a mixture of both and the Monkey Husbands finally need to step in and intervene. How would you suppose they do so, or say?

Oh no half of them will put a stop to the bs before even gets to that point😠✋️

(Lmk Wukong) it takes a hot minute Or him to realize that he hasn't seen you too often lately. The guys were behind on some of the bills. So you've got some extra hours at your job in order to pay them. But it's been running you into the ground without you noticing.

(Lmk Wukong) Welcome home peaches🥰🥰

Monkey Queen(Y/N) Hello sun

He immediately registers the tone of your voice and how tired you sound. He decided to brush down all the snacks you guys would have for their movie nights And a heating blanket You gave them as a gift. He brought you away from your desk. As you guys started a movie marathon cuddling on the couch. Not long after you fell asleep right on top of him. He thought you were so cute

(NR Wukong) He hasn't seen you in a long time and here it doesn't like it. He stopped by your home and found you doing a mountain of paperwork. You look like he hadn't slept in the days. And the only thing you seem to be drinking with some coffee. It was had obvious bags under your eyes and was surrounded by your jobs paperwork. This will be easy. Wukong would ask if their is anything you need. What you didn't know was that he was giving you tea to make you tired even more before. Finally falling asleep on your desk. What side he takes shields in bed and talks to you when He'll take care of you from now on

(Mk Reborn Wukong) oh hell no stop that bull crap the second is shows itself. You were helping out born the village because of a recent demon attack. A lot of stuff got destroyed. So you were switching from helping people rebuild their homes to harvesting fruits and vegetables to watching the village children. You had your hands full for a while and it's causing you to neglect your Husband. That ends now. After you've got back from helping an elderly couple. You The notice that we're calling was taking a nap which was strange because it's usually up to greet you, he must have got back from something it was doing so. You are gonna be quiet and just lay next to him. What you didn't notice is that he got ahold of you. And his grip was getting tighter and tighter. You're trying to move but it wasn't working. So you just gave up and decided to take a nap with him. Not knowing that he was smirking right behind you.

(HIB Wukong) He feels you're stretching yourself way too thin hear. It's one thing to take your job seriously and to help out as much as you can. But it's not a thing to run yourself into the ground until the brink of exhaustion it is not for him. He knows you want to provide but this is too much So what he does Bring you to a village spot you remembered passing by And I still need you to give you Type of treatment They got. That was the only time you felt so relaxed and you have Him to Thank.

(Netflix Wukong) As great as you are for helping him with the demon attacks and protecting the village. You will need some time to yourself. In the fact that he's saying that you know it's serious. He loves you too much to watch You. Kill yourself over work that he can handle with the snap of his fingers. It's just not fair to him it's certainly not fair to you. So he treated you to a hot springs he knows where you felt all your problems go away you kissed him as a thank you😘😘😘

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG 😇👍

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Cod Men at a Slumber Party

Requested: God himself told me that this was what I needed to write, but otherwise no

Warnings: Pillow Violence

A/N: Rudyyyyyyy

Ghost - The one who stays up and pulls pranks

Soap’s hand is going in some warm water. Alejandro is getting whip cream on his hand and tickled with a feather. Rudy has cocks and balls drawn all over his face in neon glitter permanent marker, and König is covered in clown makeup (complete with the rainbow wig which he cannot get off thanks to Ghost using some pretty expensive wig adhesive). They wake up and instantly everyone is yelling at each other, accusing each other despite the fact that they are all victims of these heinous pranks. No one looks at Ghost who is quietly watching on, hiding a look that was very much “cat who caught the canary”, self satisfied as he video taped the fight that ensued between the others.

Soap - The Pillow Fort Builder

The minute Soap steps through the door he’s scavenging for each and every pillow within the house, as if he doesn’t have a wagon full of them dragging behind him. Doesn’t matter how lumpt or old or stuff they are, he’s making this pillow fort and it will be the most comfy place you’ve ever slept in your whole life. Seriously, man deserves some type of reward for being able to make such an amazing pillow fort. Not to mention that it just looks cool from the outside as well, almost like a castle of some kind. Soap takes great pride in his pillow forts and if anyone (including himself) is ever dissatisfied with one then he’s tearing it apart and rebuilding it from the ground up til he feels like he’s gotten it perfect.

König - The one who falls asleep first

König is always so excited to have a sleepover, talking about all the different movies you all could watch and games you could play. He comes in in his softest pajamas and with his favorite pillow and blanket, arms full of board games and dvds and vhs tapes, only to fall asleep the second he finishes setting up his makeshift bed on the floor. It’s kinda cute in a way, snoring and drooling in his sleep, splayed out like some sort of giant starfish, his pillow clutched to his chest like some sort of plushie. And he’ll always feel guilty about it when he wakes up, feeling like he missed out on something important or like he was rude.

Alejandro - The Pillow Fighter

Alejandro will 100% be trying to carefully thief some of Soap’s pillows so that he can sneak up behind someone else, smack them HARD AS FUCK with one of the pillows, and shout at the top of his lungs “*PREPÁRATE A MORIR!!!”. Literally hits people so hard with these pillows that its a wonder that no one has actually died (though some people HAVE lost teeth, which was unfortunate to say the least). Yes he will do this at every slumber party. No, you will not be able to successfully hide the pillows from him. Doesn’t matter where you put them, he’ll find them. And then you’ll be the first to be hit with one of the pillows, just because you tried to stop it from happening.

Rudy - The Snack Bringer/Maker

Rudy arrives to the slumber party carrying about 80 different boxes and bags of popcorn, cookies, chips, drinks, and so much more. He also has a lot of homemade stuff as well, though that’s primarily for him since he doesn’t like a lot of sugar. That doesn't mean he won’t share though! He’s more than happy to, and will bring more homemade stuff than store bought if it’s demanded by more than just one other person. And not to brag but that man is SO good at cooking. Absolute house spouse material. (I’d wife him anyways)

*PREPÁRATE A MORIR!!! = PREPARE TO DIE!!!

[inkyvendingmachine]

Mobs and Stalkers Season 4, Episode 3

💀 Call of Cthulhu: Haunted Hijinx Masterpost 💀 Call of Cthulhu Season Four Masterpost (Coming Soon)

Warning: This campaign is an edited version of  a Call of Cthulhu scenario from the Tales of the Crescent City book. While a lot has been changed, there IS spoilers for it throughout these posts.

Who is this guy and why is he following us? Why are we following him?? Why are we interreacting with mobs again??? How does this keep happening to us?????

Art Credit: @inkdemonapologist : sketching + inking @inkyvendingmachine : concept + colouring

IT IS THE NEXT MORNING. EVERYONE WAKES UP AND NOBODY (who slept over at JDS) IS MISSING, OR DEAD.

THAT’S GREAT.

Bendy even slept on top of Jack during their slumber party, trying to give the same comfort as an Beans might give. It might’ve been weird otherwise, but after all the hectic nonsense going on and not being able to feel safe going home, in this case it was welcome.

Joey slept on his research notes. 

But it is a work day (at least it’s friday,,,) so the cots are shuffled away before people start coming in and questioning the group about the spontaneous night in. And foreseeing this might be a future issue if stuff goes haywire and they have to hide out at JDS more, Joey takes the holiday opportunity to get everyone out of the office for a while.  Enjoy New Years Eve off, go party! Also New Years, to recover from the party. And also… the day AFTER New Years, to do all the things you meant to do on New Years but you were recovering from the party!! Look how nice Joey Drew is, giving so many thoughtful days off. Nobody come back until Thursday or else.

While everyone else is getting some work done, Joey checks in on Norman who didn’t even call in. He seems fine, but he’s still adamant about staying at home. Okay you do you.

(Joey sends Susie to hang out with Norman, as his inside woman and also because the Norman vs. Susie perception of the world will be nice when more things just. C h a n g e.)

The team has two big leads for trying to find Alan Leroy: Chandler Kreel and Amanda Cornish. Both of them are apparently good friends with him, and with addresses in hand, they split up to try and track down the danged clarinetist that they probably need to get to.

Jack and Sammy drive downtown to a bunch of law offices with apartments above, searching for Amanda. They’re able to get to her door pretty easily, but Amanda isn’t the one who answers. Her sister does! Luckily Jack’s there to run introductions because otherwise Sam’s scowling face probably would have just been turned away at that point. Sitting in the waiting room, Amanda soon joins them and admits that the last time she saw Alan was at a christmas party they went to… but seems to be kind of standoffish about any other information.

After some more charming by Jack, it’s revealed that she thinks he might be in trouble with the mob, and uh, Sammy… looking the way he does……. Maybe made her think they were the mob?? But with confirmation that, no, they super aren’t the mob and in fact are trying to find Alan before he possibly gets in trouble with a mob or two, she’s a bit more relaxed. Something weird is happening, because Alan really doesn’t seem like the type to be in trouble with the mob. And the last weird thing she remembers happening with Alan was… well, he got freaked out over some book she gave him for the holidays!

What’s so scary about a book? It was a pretty interesting read, here she’ll go grab it for ya!!!

Sammy is looking away Sammy is looking away Sammy refuses to look in any direction near Amanda as she, indeed, brings out a little black book with the Yellow Sign on it. 

Jack immediately feels it wiggle into his head. But at least he’s able to wrap up the conversation with her in a… semi-normal manner? While Sammy’s eyes, darting anywhere else, find a photo on the mantelpiece that features Alan Leroy and friends, hanging out at a party scrawled with the note: Skinner Place, May, 1934… and Sammy is CERTAIN he recognises the man.

Oddly, his clarinet in the photo is missing one of the extensions he'd expect for a professional player...…….

Joey and Henry take the brown Mercedes to check out Chandler Kreel, who luckily lives in a nice part of the city that feels like a Mercedes might be somewhat… less… easily noticeable. 

He answers the door but seems extremely nervous, like Amanda was. Leroy is great! So good at clarinet you wouldn’t even know he was down a finger!! Also totally a swell guy who shouldn’t be in any trouble so why are you heeerree?? 

Through Joey’s uh, storytelling skills, and Henry's good calming daditude, they get the idea he’s a loyal friend who wants to make sure he’s helping his buddy and not handing over information to the mob or any other parties that might be after Alan… Which means, he probably has information on where Alan is. Since it’d be suspicious to just plain ask, Joey goes the heartfelt “please reach out to us we’re here to help,” direction and hands off contact information. 

While returning to the car, Henry and Joey find someone oogling over it… and this time it’s not some girl trying to declare herself Henry’s lifelong love, but the pale-faced man in a black suit that’s been seen everywhere recently. Their conversation is short, as the man mentions looking for a “wandering player” that needs to be returned to his place, and he walks off after some vague threats about what happens if you are in his way. Or if you lie to him, don’t do that either.

His mask-like face doesn’t move while communicating any of this.

Henry tells Joey once they’re alone that he thinks that guy is Fowler. He has the same nervous fidget Fowler used to…

Jack and Sammy go to stop by Norman’s on the way back, and find that… his place is apparently a block down from where it used to be!! 

GREAT!!!!

When he answers the door and is immediately and frantically questioned about this, he takes a look around and confirms, shrugging and simply stating “it seems like I’ve moved.” 

He invites them in for a housewarming party.

Susie and Norman have been playing cards. There’s no updates on Avadon. Jack and Sammy update them about the few tidbits of information they’ve found, and Norman finds a piece of junk mail to hand off to Jack before they head out. Since… the address on there seems to have changed too, so if Norman ends up moving again, well… they’ll know where he is!

The four of them meet back up at JDS to exchange information about Alan Leroy, and also eject the yellow sign from Jack’s head asap. Sammy's still worked up about this clarinetist's missing E flat extension, but Joey dismisses this as old news -- obviously; he's missing a finger. Keep up, Sammy. Peter has kind of also met back up with them, leaving a message on Joey’s phone talking about sightings of the masked man going through some magic shops in the city. And the fact that despite all his digging, he really can’t find anything about where this Leroy guy came from…

Joey tries to call Peter back by memory and it doesn’t work. We’re not going to talk about the fact that Joey has Peter’s number memorized. Pulling out his phone book, indeed, Peter’s number on paper has changed and that one DOES work. 

Before they get much of a conversation going at all, Joey hangs up on Peter to try something. Instead of dialing a number in, or looking one up… he just wills himself to dial a number in to call Alan Leroy.

It kiiiindaaa works.

Joey manages to call Alan Leroy’s phone, but the same servant picks up and insists that Alan hasn’t returned home. Joey hangs up on him. 

Peter gets a call back. Okay so there’s those Magic Shops he wants to check out, and also he has a lead on the gangster guy who shot the gun during the charity event. To keep Peter from doing nonsense alone and probably being abducted to Carcosa, Jack and Joey decide to go with him to investigate magic shops, while Sammy and Henry uneasily go to the bar to find info on the gangster guy, once Sammy is reassured that this won’t be like last time and all he has to do is eavesdrop. This surely will only go well.

At the bar, Henry casually brings up the charity dinner shooting while trying to fish for information, and maybe he talks a little too much, because suddenly all eyes are on him. What! Sammy wasn’t doing any talking so Henry was just trying to… do….what Joey would do? Henry trying to do what Joey would do has never gone wrong before…

Sammy and Henry are in a mob car, only kind of against their will. They are escorted to a restaurant, where they meet the extremely average looking Italian mob boss, Johnny Nero, who wants to know what they know about this pale masked man. At first it seems like they’ve made another great terrible get-yourselves-kidnapped-by-a-mob mistake, but the boss seems surprisingly rattled, and after some grilling from Sammy, Nero admits that… he’s seen some stuff that shouldn’t be…

… and Sammy hits the nail on the head when he asks, have you seen the y͟el͜l͘ow sig̵n?

Henry steps in and decides to offer to help him… to get him on our side, and understand that we are not a threat to him, we’re simply trying to remove the same thing from the city. After some pressure, Nero is convinced, and goes through the extremely normal process of Henry writing eldritch symbols with his own blood to remove the sign from him. After the nightmare has been yeeted from his brain, Nero turns out to be a wee bit nicer: he gives us all the info he has, but insists that if we find whatever the pallid mask guy is looking for, to give it to him so he can use it to get the guy gone.

And then he kicks them out without even offering them a ride back to their car at the bar.

Wrow.

What an extremely average super not classy even mob boss. 

That’s gonna get you a terrible review on yellowp my dude.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, it’s time for

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*SHOPPING✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*~~!!

The first store is called Cool Jewel Skull. It has cool jewels and skulls. Surely that’s exactly what it says in the book, because it’s extremely not a legit shop, and Jack spends the entire walk to the next shop dunking on it to keep Joey's spirits up. They did find out that not just the Phantom but Leroy had been through it though!

The next stop is an apothecary, and it does seem a lot more actually occult stuff. The guy recognizes a photo of Leroy and confirms he came through looking for protective charms, but when he went to buy one, he dropped it upon touching it and immediately left?? Then the Pallid Mask guy came through later… Not much info on him, except that he was creepy, but we already knew that. The interesting thing is though, the charm that Leroy dropped? It has the same symbol on it that Henry uses to expel the yellow sign from people’s heads. So… weird that he didn’t take it with him…. And seemed allergic to it as well.

The three leave and try to go to the last shop on the list… but the address is missing from the paper now. Like… completely gone. Joey gets the great idea to try his “I'm going to will myself there” trick and closes his eyes, imagining a route to this store he’d never been to before, and giving Jack directions to drive there. Suddenly Jack slams on the brakes and manages to keep from completely smashing into… a man in a suit… and a pale mask…. There’s definitely a dent in the bumper now though, because Jack wasn’t that quick, and apparently a moving car is not more solid than this thing is. 

Joey immediately starts cursing him out, but he insists that Joey called him?? before going around to the side of the car and opening the back seat door… where Peter is sitting. Not having this AT ALL, Joey tries to beat him out of the car with his cane, only to be thrown back against the dashboard. 

With Jack frozen in terror and Peter having an oddly difficult time moving to even the other side of the car away from this pale jerk, Joey immediately decides he cAN AND WILL RIP THIS ASSHOLE OUT OF EXISTENCE. 

And… somehow, it works.

It sure tears something into him alright, and manages to boot him out of the car, giving enough time for Joey to demand Jack step on it. And Jack, panic stricken, somehow manages to follow the command and at least not run into anything else as they drive off into the night – But just as he’s hit the gas pedal, he does feel the cold of both glass shards and … something else, as  he gets touched by a hand smashing through the window in the last second. 

Luckily Jack bought the first car on the market in the US that had safety glass so he’s not going to be fucked up much from this in the physical department, except for his wallet maybe.

Mentally though? Memories flood in… 

memories of a time he visited a dream with his eyes closed, and almost had his head removed.

After they’re at a safe distance, a shaken Peter manages to pull the door closed. 

And thank them.

[kickthecan-revolution]

A long time ago when Trump was first in office, I had a sustained two week anxiety attack, convinced we were going to experience a significant war and I had to be prepared. I’d just gotten a big bonus and I spent a ton of it on survivor gear - all of those buckets of rice, beans, dehydrated food, camping gear, solar lights - so much more. I made go bags for work, my car and home. The primary one was stolen when I first moved in here via a break in where thieves stole a lot of stuff people were storing in the garage. The backpack was in my parking spot - poof, gone.

I lugged so much of it here - over the years I’ve slowly simplified it but I’ve been a little afraid to let all of it go. it started this habit of buying extras - why not buy three Justin’s boxes of peanut butter packets even though I only need one? Why not have five ketchups so I never run out?

When R was here organizing, I *saw* it - all of the canned food that had expired, all of the stuff I was keeping in the pantry that I didn’t use because I didn’t even know I had it. She gently said “if you feel like you want to bake cookies, you can just zip over to the store and buy flour.” Part of it was never having enough food when we were little - we could afford it, my mom just never bought enough for us. It’s why I’d drive around on Christmas looking for snack food before all the kids came over. Granted, that could be my food insecurity speaking and my filter was grounded from that, it’s a very likely possibility.

Anyway. R is coming back for my last infusion bringing her BFF A who is an organizer and a professional chef. She’s going to organize so much of my stuff but the deal is, I only have what I really want to keep, consider getting rid of the extras of things I don’t need (including three spatulas, etc) and focusing on keeping what I love and use for myself every week instead of all of the imaginary dinner parties I throw in my head. So that’s what I’ve done today, after…11 hours of sleep? I’ve been slowly whittling it all down and it feels so great. I’m 90% done. It’s not as much as I thought but it’s just so good to let it go.

My surgery is tentatively scheduled for October 01, pending what happens with this biopsy on Friday. That feels lightning fast. My last chemo infusion is next Wednesday - I’m not going to lie, I’m afraid of it based on this last one, I was so debilitated by the fatigue, I had more hair shedding than usual, no appetite and the peripheral neuropathy was hard so I’m going to try to freeze my hands and feet during the infusion to prevent it. It has definitely lessened, thank God but it’s not gone away entirely. It can take a long time.

I cry so frequently these days, even writing that it’s the last one. I’ve held it all together for five months, and I can feel the emotional and mental reserves I’ve leaned on to that beginning to crumble. That’s probably good. Things are starting to get……thin when I’m sleeping. My dreams are wild and I heard repeated knocking three times last night. My cats were on high alert. I pit myself in a golden bubble and reminded myself that I live in a building where people could be knocking at other doors, not likely at 3am but it helped. I stayed up until 4:30am watching The Office and then slept hard until 9am.

I’m numb when I think of the MRI biopsy on Friday, two of my worst things happening at the same time is like a cruel joke (biopsies aren’t painful but just traumatic waiting for the results). I’m strong - I can and will do this. And then chemo, and then the surgery which completely freaks me out - I have a massive fear of “going under” - and then I’ll know what happens after those biopsies come back.

In talking about work, my oncologist recommend that I extend my leave of absence to at least March of next year. The neuropathy is concerning her as are my cognitive tests, and I think for a living. She reminded me how they have taken my body to the point of decline where the basics work but there’s a lot of damage. And the mental damage of all of the biopsies on top of that, she thinks I need time. I agree with her. So I’m going to pursue that, it means I live on a lot less and I don’t think I am guaranteed a job when I go back but I’m not worried about that.

[beanghostprincess]

May I join into the transgendering with some Shuggy content?

As soon as Buggy joins the Roger pirates he cannot STAND Shanks. Shanks is clingy and overly affectionate and it’s obvious Shanks gets better treatment than him from the get go. He’s clearly the captains favorite because Shanks gets his OWN GODDAMN ROOM AND BUGGY DOESN’T. Sometimes Shanks gets days when he’s incredibly pissy and infuriated and gets away with stuff Buggy wouldn’t get away with at any rate, yet everyone’s sympathetic to him and he gets to take it easy for a whole day. Shanks doesn’t even have to fight for a spot in the showers for fucks sakes! Everytime Buggy wants to use the communal showers when he’s in there someone basically tells him to wait till Shanks is done and GOD HE HATES HIS FUCKING FACE! The only reason they hang out together is because Shanks is the only on the ship that’s his age, if there was anyone else on board he wouldn’t bother with that red headed fool. Although that time they painted dicks all over Rogers face when he slept was funny. And it’s better to peel potatoes arguing about dumb shit than spending that time peeling alone. And yes Shanks does look legitimately hurt whenever he gets those days of just being in pain for no reason and he actually needed to be told of to take it easy, because that dumbass actually WANTED to help Buggy scrubbing the deck? What the fuck is wrong with him?!

Shanks continues being clingy and annoying, gets sappy, tells Buggy that he’s his best friend and has the gall to just laugh when Buggy tells him to fuck off, they aren’t friends, Buggy hates him! “No you don’t.” That bastard says before pulling his Strawhats back over his eyes. “Where does he get off saying that!?” He hates his smug smile and his stupid face and the fact that this stupid, annoying, UNFLASHY fool is actually right. So he doesn’t even think too much of it when Shanks drags him back to his room one day, nervous and pacing. “What did you do?” “Nothing just… I want to talk to you-“ “Whatever it is I’m not interested unless there’s cash involved.” “Buggy please! You’re my best friend-“ “If you put laxatives into the beer again you’re on your own this time. I am not gonna-“ “Buggy!” Buggys head turns at a voice that is uncharacteristically sharp with him, oddly pleading. Shanks is fumbling with his shirt buttons “If I show you… please don’t laugh.” “I will laugh as much I well damn please you dick. Did you get a shitty tattoo on the last isla-“ Buggy tapers off. And just stares for a few seconds, because he’s not quite getting what he’s seeing. At first he thinks Shanks chest is bandaged, but upon closer expection it seems to be something like a cloth wrapped around his chest, held in place by several clasps in front of the garment. It’s almost the same tone as Shanks skin and it must have been made with great care, Buggy knows Rayleigh can be good with a needle. Suddenly a lot of things start to click into place for Buggy. How he never saw Shanks shirtless even if the sun was grilling down on everyone else. How Shanks seemed to prefer baggier shirts. How sometimes they would go into a town and people would look at Shanks with mild confusion,like they where trying to figure something out, before their captain put a hand on Shanks shoulder and ruffled Buggy’s hair and introduced them as “My cabinboys. Shanks and Buggy.” And how Shanks seemed to visibly relax after those introductions.

Buggy’s thoughts snap back to the now and he has never seen Shanks look so scared. He’s slumped in on himself , arms crossed and his nails are digging deep indents into his arms, his gaze is steadfast and confrontational, like he’s daring Buggy to say anything, but there is also this inherent panic to his look. It’s then that Buggy realizes he’s been staring at his crew member with an open mouth like an idiot. “Ah! I You- You are- I heard of this! So- uh- it’s not-“ “It means I’m-“ “I KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS SHANKS GOD I’M NOT BRAINDEAD! I AM- God! Stop looking at me like that you fool! You think this changes anything?” Shanks lowers his head, his voice turns quiet“I… I thought.” Oh fuck. Buggy’s inner desire to weasel himself out of unpleasant situations comes through and he switches his tone immediately. “Shanks.” He says, wrapping an arm around his, now confused, friends shoulder and gesturing wildly with one hand “Shaaaanks, Shanksshanksshanksshanks. We are both men of the sea-“ “We are 14.” “SHUT UP! We are both … worldly gentlemen here. We have seen some truly flashy things in our time. Some truly mind boggling things. This-“ Buggy’s hand gestures towards Shanks makeshift binder. “Is nothing that I haven’t seen before.” “You’ve met people like me?” “Of course!” Buggy lies, a smug grin spreading over his face at Shanks incredulousness. “Most normal thing in the world. I am surprised you didn’t tell me sooner. Not that I would have been surprised and… what’s that face for?” “… Buggy…” “What’s with the tears?! I told you I didn’t care- WHATS THAT STUPID GRIN FOR?” Shanks ignores Buggy’s disgusted expressions and meek protests at being pulled into a hug “Thank you.”

Buggy awkwardly pats Shanks shoulder. “Yes, yes, you’re welcome, shithead, now let me go!” He pulls away, but Shanks expression makes his brain stutter for the second time in an hour, smiling at him trough tears and looking at him so softly. “Buggy-“ Shanks leans in closer “there’s another thing I wanted to ask you now-“ Buggy’s breath hitches for a second. Shanks has a little freckle right over his cupids bow. Huh. Funny. He never noticed. “Buggy….”

“… Wanna move into my room with me? I asked Roger and he said it would be okay if I’m fine with it. You’d get your own hammock away from the other guys and everything.” Fuck!! Yeah!!!

I am,,,, I am okay,,,, Don't,,, Please,, I am so fine right now,,,

Transmasc Shanks is so real,,, Everybody knowing except Buggy because they found him as a baby and he knew he was a boy really really soon (before meeting Buggy) and he's scared of telling him because of how he might react. Because they're best friends but Buggy often reacts negatively to him and he's scared he might actually start hating him for real,,, And he also has the biggest crush on him, so imagine how scared the boy is. And when they start sharing a room,, Buggy spends even more time with him and Shanks starts being more honest about himself. About the binder hurting. Or the dysphoria. Or his periods, which are the fucking worst and Buggy genuinely does feel bad about those. Buggy starts being protective of Shanks whenever somebody misgenders him or makes fun of him. Not that Shanks needs any protection, but his confidence fades away whenever shit like this happens. So they protect each other. It feels,,, Nice. And I just know they'd start falling more and more for each other and,,, It's just so sweet. Also, consider Buggy finding out about what non-binary means and saying "oh. OH! THIS IS FLASHY I LIKE THIS. IT SOUNDS LIKE ME!" and Shanks being his supporter number one until the end.

[divijohm]

Can you Do When Ben Drowned Comforts Suicidal Fem!S/O (Also If Anyone is Suicidal then I Felt Sorry for Them and I Wish I Could see People Have to Care for Them or Someone have to Call Suicidal Hotline So It will Helps Them, Seriously Don't do this IRL Otherwise Suicide is Tragic)

Ben comforting Suicidal s/o

A/n: As a person who tried to kill myself 3 times by pure rage and raw strength (unplanned) I'll base this in my experience. If you're passing through this thoughts please seek help the world isn't as shitty as media makes it look like, I recommend following @/jacobsimonsays on TikTok he tells daily good news about the world, also #hopecore is great it'll give you a lil more hope in humans ALSO step outside, even if it's just in your backyard take a little bit of sunlight, eat and drink, go for a walk, get a pet if you can, seriously it may sound dumb but as someone who's been there this helps lots. The pet specially is a great suicide prevention, you'll think of them when you're trying and (at least for me) it makes you stop, just remember to take care of the lil fella

TW: SUICIDE, (3) FAILED SUICIDE ATTEMPTS, SUICIDE IDEALISATION, PASSIVE SUICIDE

⚰️ He found you, rope attached to your neck, you weren't really up anything you're just going to pull the rope until you died. You were crying, but you weren't stopping anytime soon. You wanted it all to end, he had to call help because he couldn't get your grip out of the rope. You blacked out but other than that, and the rope bruise on your neck, you're fine

⚰️ then he found you, again, this time violently banging your head on the wall trying to crack your skull over he managed to make you stop voluntary, he did a quick bandage on your bleeding head but not much after that, he was worried of course but he didn't really knew how to best act in this situation so he just. Stayed there while you cried until you slept.

⚰️ The third time was what really got him, you're in the bathtub, you've used something that made your body limp, your head wasn't above water and your wrists where cut making the water a pretty light pink, he panicked so hard he couldn't help you nor get help. You're not moving, he thought you died he screamed so hard that he bleed out of his throat, someone else heard it and helped.

⚰️ "Why would you do that? Aren't you happy here? Don't you like my company? Have I done something? Is someone or something bothering you?" He asked after you finally woke up. You couldn't answer, you didn't know what was wrong, your life wasn't bad, you lived well, you had good friends, a good family, etc. Maybe you weren't cut out for this world. You couldn't answer so you cried, cried and cried some more he held you close the whole time.

⚰️ He never really asked why after that only time

⚰️ After that chat you stopped your attempts, for his sake and for the sake of your family, you would want your favorite family member and him to have to bury you, but that didn't mean you've stopped desiring death.

⚰️ You started acting more recklessly than your usual, they would notice if looked close enough, you started eating less and when you did it wasn't healthy, you've stopped looking to both sides when crossing the street, engaged more with potentially violent people, started drinking (more if you drunk already), etc

⚰️ no one seemed to notice, but Ben did, he was worried but didn't know how to approach the situation.

⚰️ After some research from his part he started taking care of you in subtle ways, taking you to those fancy healthy restaurants where there's all the junk food you like but they're made of healthy things, calling you to go to park dates so you can get sunlight and walk a bit, healthy things disguised as silly stuff

⚰️ You got a little bit better with all that, after all a healthy body is a healthy mind but still not good enough for Ben you were still acting too recklessly for his taste.

⚰️ He heard that pets help people's mental health so he got you a dog, a big one, think golden retriever or German Shepherd big. You love it.

⚰️ You're not in good health yet, you still have your super down days, but now you're better and the future looks a little bit brighter

[questionableratatouille00]

𝓜𝓸𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓞𝓷 8

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: When the anniversary of Natasha’s passing comes around, Y/n feels another wave of grief coming to knock her down. But with the support of her friends, and a special visit to Natasha’s grave, she knows that she can keep going. And she knows that Nat would be happy for her.

Warnings (Entire Series): This series deals with mature topics, including, but not limited to: death, mental health issues, physical, emotional, and sexual abuse, grief, trauma, general unwellness, illness (both mental and physical), and a most likely inaccurate portrayal of group therapy (though it’s much better than whatever was going on in TFATWS.) Please mind the warnings below.

Warnings: cursing, dead romantic partners, death, wind symbolism, graves and cemeteries, way too many references, depression and depression themes, therapy, bad hygiene, and mental health issues. As always, let me know if more needs to be tagged.

🌻Series Masterlist 🌻

𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧

It had been a while since that...incident. The leaves had changed colors and fallen off the trees, which all turned dark. Snow had began to dust the ground, and the wind had begun to bring shivers to everyone outside.

And with the cold weather came a dreaded anniversary. One you knew was coming, but that hadn’t made it better.

Everyone else could see it too. The way your mood seemed to dampen, the way your smiles began to not reach your eyes, the way you seemed more and more tired each time they saw you.

Snow was on the ground now, but some things stayed the same.

Group therapy was still going on, and it gave you a reason to get out of your house.

“Now, I’d like to talk about support, and why it’s so important to have a support system.” Coulson introduced the topic. “Does everybody know what a support system is?” As the group nodded along, he grinned.

“Great. Why don’t we go around in a circle and share one reason why having a support system is important?” He invited the conversation.

Every session had the same structure. You walk in, everyone shares how they’ve been that week and what they’ve done or whatever, then the topic is introduced and discussed, then you play some kind of game, and then everybody chats a little bit before leaving. You found comfort in the routine.

Clint went first. “It’s important because if you have one, you’ve got people to rely on and help you out with stuff.”

Tony nodded, before beginning to speak. “And people who can tell when you’re having a breakdown.”

Then it was your turn. “When..when you feel like nothing is getting better and nothing is going to get better, having..having people around to talk to, or to..relate with, even….it helps.” You murmured.

“Yeah. And when you’re spiraling, you’ve got friends and family who can pull you out of it.” Wanda nodded along. You gave her a small smile.

“See ya, kid.” You waved to Peter on your way out. He waved back, beaming.

“Bye, Ms. Y/n!” It had taken so long to convince him to not call you Ms. L/n, so you accepted the name.

“Bye, Maria.” You shot a smile at the receptionist.

“Have a good day, Y/n.” She smiled warmly.

“You too!” You called as you walked out the door. You let out a breath as the cold wind picked up outside. You walked down the bumpy sidewalk towards your car.

“Y/n!” Wanda called for you, a smile on her face.

When you turned to look at her, her smile dropped.

“Oh, hey, Wands.” You used the nickname.

“Are you okay? You seemed more..down, than usual.” She noted.

“Yeah, just..tired. Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.” You explained. It wasn’t exactly a lie. You truly hadn’t slept very well. Stupid nightmares.

“Oh. Okay. Uh..do you wanna FaceTime later or something?” She asked. It had become normal for the two of you to FaceTime every so often.

“Sure,” you answered, as you gave her a nod before you began to walk away.

The worst part is when you start losing your sense of joy.

Your favorite meal, which you’d cooked for dinner the night after therapy, didn’t taste as good. And it wasn’t an error on your part—you’d cooked it perfectly, just like you normally would. But when you ate it, it…just didn’t hit.

It was hard to not think your brain was broken. Well, in a way, it kinda was now, but apparently that’s not a good word to use.

You began to fall back into old routines.

You get up. You get ready. You go to work. You drive home. You turn on the TV. And then, you just sit. 

Sometimes you call Wanda.

You turned down the group’s offer to go to lunch that week. And the week after that.

Normally, the group would go to lunch together once a week. You were all really becoming friends. Sometimes it would be right after therapy, other times it would just be a different day of the week.

You were interrupted in your moping by the sound of your phone buzzing. It was Wanda.

Hey! Made some tea and I have some extra water. Feel like stopping by? The text read.

Sorry, I’m busy today. Maybe some other time, though! You typed back.

No worries. I thought you stopped working weekends though?

“Shit.” You murmured as she caught you in your lie.

You sighed, before pressing the FaceTime button. “Hey.” You greeted.

“Hi.” She smiled, her mug of tea visible. You were propped up on something on her kitchen table, so you could see her from the chest up. Her hair was up in a bun.

“I..I’m not busy.” You confessed.

“Yeah, I know.” She admitted.

“It—I just—“ you sighed. “Today’s the uh, the anniversary, so..”

“Oh, Y/n, I’m sorry.” She frowned. “Her grave’s at Dreykov Cemetery, right?”

“Uh…yeah?”

“Can you be there in two hours?”

“The hell—sure I guess?” You were really fucking confused. Was this a normal things for friends to do for each other?

Regardless, you got up off your ass and took a shower. You changed into some clean clothes and brushed your teeth, something you’d been neglecting as of late (much to your shame and embarrassment.)

You grabbed your keys and walked out of your apartment, down the stairs, and to your car. You drove out to Groot&Rocket, a local floristry business. You picked out a nice bouquet of flowers suited for winter, paid for it, and began to drive down to the cemetery.

You found the whole group waiting at the entrance. They all gave you warm smiles, with Wanda rushing up and giving you a tight hug. You wrapped your arms around her, making sure to not mess up the bouquet.

“Oh, I’m sorry Y/n.” She murmured in your ear.

You just rubbed her back in response. You both pulled away after a moment and walked towards the rest of the group.

“Hey, you guys.” You breathed as you stood before them.

“Hey.” Steve replied, a gentle smile on his face. Bucky gave you a tiny wave. Tony gave a nod in greeting, and Thor opened his arms for a big hug as he walked towards you. You passed the bouquet to Wanda, knowing that there was no escaping this.

He squeezed you tight in a massive bear hug, shaking you from side to side ever so slightly.

You laughed a little, and he grinned, knowing he’d done his job right.

“You guys really didn’t have to come out here, you know.” You said awkwardly.

“Relax,” Bucky hummed, clapping a hand on your shoulder, “you’d do it for us. You did it for me.”

Sam nodded in agreement. “It’s the least we could do.” You noticed they each had something in their hands. Flowers, small trinkets, normal stuff.

In Wanda’s were a small bouquet of flowers, not a sunflower in sight. She also had the yellow Care Bear in her left hand.

“Oh, uh, right this way.” You said, awkwardly leading the group through the graveyard.

Natasha was buried beneath a tall and beautiful tree. You looked up at it, its leaves still looking okay, even in the cold winter. You kneeled next to her grave, dusting away the snow gently. You adjusted some things already left at her grave, either from friends or family, before setting down the flowers. Then you stood up and took a few steps back.

Everyone took turns leaving stuff. First Bruce. Then Tony. Then Thor. Steve. Sam. Clint. Bucky. And then Wanda.

It’s gotta be wrong of me, your thoughts echoed around in your head. Bringing the girl I kind-of-maybe-sort-of have a crush on to the grave of my dead former girlfriend.

Just then the wind swirled through, and you watched as Wanda’s hair danced in the wind. She was beautiful.

It felt like Nat was telling you that you were being a stupid idiot. And that she was happy.

That it was okay. Okay to let her go.

No, a part of you wailed. Just like you had in her hospital room. Just like you had when you got home that night. Just like you had when Yelena showed back up.

It’s okay, the wind seemed to sing as it blew through again. Let me go.

And so you let her go.

A/n: hi everybody!! I hope you all had the best and most wonderful holidays. I would love love love to talk about this series, so don’t be afraid to send in an ask!