#Women need at least a little mad money

[alottiegoingon]

totally my fault

lottie matthews x fem!reader

summary: after winning the state championship, you and lottie decide to celebrate it by baking cupcakes for the team and it goes awfully amazingly wrong.

warnings: fluff, lottie being a brat, reader is a yellowjacket, established relationship, characters are aged up and in college, the yellowjackets are also in uni, reader and lottie being awful bakers, nsfw content (mdni), vaginal fingering and oral (lottie receiving), praise kink?, cursing, reader being slightly mean during sex but a softie overall, prob a bunch of english mistakes

you were beyond excited! the yellowjackets had won one of the most important matches ever, the one that would decide if you guys would go to the nationals. it wasn't very common to see many women playing soccer and you were more than proud to be part of the team and also prove everyone how you were just as good as the stupid boys from wiskayok high. (you guys were so much better).

to celebrate, you and your girlfriend lottie decided to bake at your place after practice. even before meeting lottie, baking was your thing. it first started as a way to have fun as a kid, creating new recipes and seeing the results of it. you would feel like doctor frankenstein wearing pigtails. then, as you grew older, it became a way to deal with every single feeling of yours. happy because you did well in a test? brownie day. upset because you got grounded? that's okay, you didn't need tv when you could have warm cookies coming straight out of the oven.

"shit, we forgot the cupcakes!" you gasp, practically jumping out of the couch to run towards the oven. you and lottie had just put the first batch of vanilla cupcakes in the oven and decided that it was a good idea to put something to watch on tv. except that thid was at least half a hour ago and lottie's messy hair and your puffy red lips made it very clear that paying attention to the screen was the last thing that you guys were doing.

you step into the kitchen and you could barely see the oven. the entire kitchen looked like a cloudy storm and the alarm would probably go on if it had taken you a few extra seconds to find out. lottie was right behind, hiding like a scared little kid, when you open the door and immediately stepped away to avoid inhaling any of the thick smoke. you quickly put on the gloves and desperately took the burnt cupcakes from the oven to place the tray on the counter. "maybe they are still edible." lottie whispered, peeking from over your shoulder. you slowly turn your head around to face her with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

maybe it was your girlfriend's fault. you couldn't focus and think straight when she was wearing that cute blue uniform right on your couch. but you also couldn't blame her entirely. lottie matthews had money. a lot of money. and thanks to that she had daddy issues and a bunch of people designed to do whatever she wanted to. a butler, a housekeeper, a maid, a private chef. that girl had an assistant by her side since she was a baby. you would never see lottie doing anything that someone else could do for her faster and better. that's why you decided to bake at your house. no pair of extra hands to help except for your own and things were doing pretty well until you were practically devouring her mouth.

"it's really not that bad, look!" lottie was still trying to convince you even though the cupcakes were darker than the grey baking pan. "we could decorate it with some blue and yellow frosting and the girls will love it!"

"yeah, they will. until they take a bite and decide to expel us from the team after we attempted to poison them." your words came out in a sarcastic tone but you weren't mad. it was actually quite funny to imagine how the girls would react to that. Besides, the desperate attempt of lottie's to fix the situation was adorable. "it's okay, lott. it was just a silly mistake. we still have some batter left." you comfort your girlfriend by gently pressing your lips against her forehead.

thankfully, there was enough batter in the bowl to give it a second try and lottie was eager to prove that she could do things by herself. she didn't need help to do such a simple thing as baking. that's why you let her step in, patiently waiting for her to fill the cupcake paper cups using a tiny spoon. she spilled a bunch between a cupcake and another but you were still proud. being completely honest, you would still be proud even if she burned your house down to the ground.

you would be even prouder if you weren't distracted again. you had your back resting against the wall while lottie was slightly bent over the counter. she was too tall for that. you definitely weren't looking at how that shorts could make her legs longer or how her ass seemed much bigger today in this position. you really tried to look away. you did! but lottie wouldn't stop moving her body and seeing that focused expression on her face while she was biting her own lip was slowly driving you crazy.

"what do you think? do you think that this is good enough?" lottie forces you to leave your own thoughts when asking for your opinion. she was staring at you with hopeful eyes and it took you an embarrassing amount of time to realize that she was talking about how the paper cups were filled. you barely took a look at them before shaking your head in agreement almost immediately, feeling your cheeks getting warm at the possibility of lottie noticing how you were staring at her as if she was a piece of meat. "y-yes! those are so good, baby!"

lottie looked at you with furrowed eyebrows and slightly parted lips, ready to say something. you weren’t the best at hiding your feelings and especially not from lottie. your girlfriend had the power of knowing exactly what you were feeling and could read you like an open book. “are you okay? are you… sweating?” lottie’s focused expression shifted to a smug smirk on the corner of her mouth. you actually were. the edges of your forehead were already glistening with sweat and your entire body felt like it was being burned by flames.

“i’m fine. just finish those so we can put it back in the oven.” you did your best to sound convincing but the panic in your eyes thanks to the millions of thoughts about different ways to fuck your girlfriend was making it evident that something was wrong and lottie knew exactly what it was, but she didn’t say anything.

instead, she just agrees briefly, not looking to fond of your lie but not caring enough to confront you. maybe you could pull it off, you thought to yourself. but then, thanks to lottie using the tiniest spoon she could find, she ended up spilling it all over the edges and groaned in frustration. except that the groan sounded a lot like a exaggerated whine and every single sound that lottie made had a deep impact on you.

"okay, that's it." you whisper and immediately moved away from the wall to walk towards lottie, making the loud noise from your heavy steps echo through the kitchen. you didn't care if it was a complete mess, you would deal with it later. you grabbed the pan and threw it inside the oven, slamming the door hard enough to make lottie's eyes widen. but when you look at her, she isn't scared or confused anymore, she's smirking.

"is that funny to you?" hissing, you place both of your hands on lottie's hips to spin her around and make her face you. you push her against the counter and you notice how her breath was already catching in her throat. "hm... kind of." lottie shrugs. she had the dirtiest smile ever on her lips.

you clenched your jaw at the same time as lottie let a weak and whiny moan out caused by your fingers unconsciously gripping her hips tighter. "is that what you wanted? you wanted to be treated like a slut?" you growled while pushing yourself further against lottie even harder to make sure that she was trapped. your eyes were completely filled with lust as they would mirror lottie's. her smile vanished and she was completely speechless. she couldn't say a word even if she tried to.

"what? you were brave enough to tease me before but can't say anything now? so pathetic." you mock your girlfriend while your hands were busy with her body. your fingers were digging into the covered skin of her waist now as your other hand moved up to her neck. your fingertips first scratched the sensitive skin in a slow pace, being a bit too rough once or twice, before you had her jaw wrapped into your hand. you made lottie look straight into your eyes, waiting for an answer impatiently.

"y-yes..." lottie speaks in a broken whisper. with no warnings, you lift your right leg up just enough to make your bare knee in contact with your girlfriend's core. even covered by the fabric of her uniform, you could feel her warmth. a gasp comes out of her lips and it sounded like music to your ears. you pushed it further but stood still and your fingers let go of her jaw to hold her neck tenderly. lottie's body was covered in chills. "please..." she whines.

"aw, lott... i don't think you deserve it." your voice is calm and soothing but you're not exactly being sweet now. there was a kind of confident arrogance hidden under it. you leave her neck to run your fingers through her messy dark hair. after every single practice, lottie's hair would go wild no matter how tight her low pigtails or ponytail was and it was the hottest thing ever. you absolutely loved it. "but i'm very proud of you, so maybe..." you move your knee just an inch or two to the side and lottie immediately squirms against you. she had nowhere to run.

lottie closes her eyes and her lips slightly parted when you begin to move your knee and put more pressure on it. you could feel your skin getting damp by your girlfriend's wetness and it only made you want to rub your leg faster. lottie was an absolute whiny mess. her hands were gripping the counter behind her, desperately trying to hold onto something for support. her breath was heavy and coming out in short shallow bursts while her squirming hips were moving on their own. you had to keep them in place by holding firmly onto them and your girlfriend wasn't very happy. her eyes were drowning in anticipation when they opened to stare into yours.

"more..." lottie manages to spill her words in a breathless beg and you knew exactly what she wanted. here's the thing about lottie; ever since you two started dating and you found out that she was a touch starved girl, she became obsessed with your fingers and it's not like you would complain about it

you played with the hem of her clothes for a few seconds just to tease your girlfriend as long as you could, slowly removing your knee. in a swift move, the palm of your hand dig inside the plaid shorts that she was wearing, touching her exposed pelvis. lottie moaned quietly at the sight of your fingers disappearing between her legs. your firm fingertips slipped down slowly until they met the wet and warm spot still covered by the last remaining thin fabric. "god... you're so wet already." you whisper feeling like your own body was boiling and lottie whimpers softly at first feeling your light touch. she knew that. she could feel it already running through her thighs.

your hand goes even further this time underneath her panties and you finally feel her soaked pussy against your fingers. lottie held her breath when she felt how easily it was for you to touch her. she squirms again and this time you don't stop her. her legs were slightly trembling from so much tension and pleasure combined. "does it feel good, angel?" you whisper gingerly with a mischievous little smirk on your lips, knowing the answer for that. it's not like lottie's increasing moans that were filling the entire kitchen weren't already an answer to your question. lottie doesn't say anything but desperately nods.

your fingers found their way into her puffy clit and began to rub slow circles straight away. lottie's hips jerked carelessly searching for every extra crumb of your touch that she could find. her lips were fully parted now and the only sound she could do were based off in whiny moans and pathetic little sounds of how well you were fucking her even though you had barely started.

you took your time while touching lottie. your fingers were slippery like soap when rubbing her pussy and the squelch sounds that would come out of it was too much for both of you. "you look so pretty like that... such a good girl." you murmured right against lottie's ear, knowing very well that praising was one of her biggest weakness. lottie moaned louder and you noticed how her legs were shaking harder now, that's not how you wanted her to cum. "hold on, pretty girl. not just yet." you press your lips against your girlfriend's cheek and before she could blink her shorts and panties were on the kitchen floor and you had your hands gripping tightly on her waist to lift her up and make her sit on the counter.

"jesus christ, y/n..." lottie exhaled when she realized what you were about to do. her eyes were shining with desire. your hands touched her thighs and spread her legs wide open. you almost fell backwards when you saw lottie's glistening folds and your mouth was suddenly full of saliva. you wrapped your arms under lottie's thighs and pulled her closer to you, making her body half bent as her hands were support her weight by holding the edges of the cold counter. your tongue met her pussy, exploring every inch of her patiently before going back up to focus on her swollen clit. lottie was seeing stars and she couldn't keep her whimpers and moans to herself even if she wanted to. her hands moved straight to your head, getting lost between your hair strands and pulling you closer to her dripping core.

lottie's stomach was contracting and releasing over and over again just like the rest of the muscles in her body and it only got worse. while your tongue was moving eagerly and frantically, you placed your left hand on her inner thigh at first just to move it further and play with her entrance for a couple seconds before shoving two fingers inside of her. lottie screamed your name and you feel her insides clenching against you. "d-don't stop!" she begged and it only made you thrust your fingers relentlessly in and out of her, curling them up exactly on her sensitives spongy spot.

"oh god..." lottie squirms and you roughly fuck lottie through her orgasm, looking up to see the expression of pleasure in her face while still eating her out with amusement. her eyes were rolling back along with her toes curling and her hips were rocking along with your fingers. her chest was moving like crazy at the same time she was fighting for her life trying to breath properly. you hear a loud animalistic moan escaping your girlfriend's lips as she tilts her head backwards and tightens her fingers around your hair. you could taste her cum in your mouth perfectly.

you both were so lost into each other that the unpleasant odour of burning cupcakes went unoticed and just like a clock right on time, the loud beeps of the smoke alarm went off making you both flinch. lottie starts to giggle as she realizes what just happened and you pull away from her core with a cheeky grin and a husky voice.

"okay. this time was totally my fault."

[vivgst]

COD Headcanons

I mean they're not hc it's just shit I think they say/do but I needed the title okay?

As I previously said this is just my silly little opinion, I would love to read yours but don't take this too personal and I'm saying this cause Imma bout to write SHIT about two characters and I'm scared cause they're loved by the whole fandom.

Okay thats all thanks<3333

Let's start with my favorite piece of shit, shall we?

Alejandro Vargas

I don't care what yall say this man is a CHEATER and he would make you feel guilty about it too because you're not "meeting his needs".

“I’m not sexist???? We cannot do the same things, it's basic biology!”

Maybe he's good in bed, let's give him that.

Alain meza said he loved Rudy so let's assume he's bi, uh... he wouldn't admit that shit, not in a million years, probably would get offended if you even dare to suggest it.

He doesn’t argue to fix things, he argues to repeat how much in the right he is, I feel like he NEVER admits he’s in the wrong, he seems very stubborn.

Now can we address that fucking temper of his? Breathe mf, no ones gonna die if you stop yelling for a second.

I feel like he must’ve had A LOT of trouble when he just joined the army because of his anger issues, think about it for a moment: someone with a higher rank yelling at him and you think he just took it? I doubt it.

MUST HAVE fought with Valeria more than once cause that temper of hers is just as shitty.

I promise I don’t hate him, well I do but he’s one of my favs, I don’t know how to explain this bye.

Simon Riley

He’s very chill I love him <3

I think of him like a very nostalgic man, he thinks a lot about his past, past lovers, past experiences, when he was new in the army, you know? Not in a “I’m still traumatized” way, he’s just nostalgic.

He’s absent minded, he’s always daydreaming (when he’s not doing something important ofc).

Thin and I don’t fucking care, THAT MAN IS THIN, you can even see it sometimes!!!! He’s got chicken legs, I love them.

He really seems to enjoy dad jokes.

He cares a lot about his teammates and I love it, it’s very cute.

Can we talk about how everyone put him as a fucking beast in bed? I don't see it, I think he's ruthless when he needs to but I don't think this applies when it comes to sex, he suffered a lot too and sadly I know too well that sex is pretty fucking terrible after rape, especially because you feel like you're gonna hurt the person you're having sex with so...

John MacTavish

Typa guy everyone loves, even your dad and your grandma's always saying how handsome he is.

Maybe he was bullied bc of his accent but he just told them to go fuck themselves.

Caring and loving, buys his partner flowers and their favorite candy/chocolates/desserts.

Remembers anniversaries, birthdays, medical or school appointments.

Too charismatic and funny.

Kyle Garrick

He’s too good for his own good… I feel like he always end up going out with INSANE people, the jealous type, they’re always bitching and making him angry and stressed but he forgives them cause he’s an angel.

Very sweet, loves cooking for people he loves.

Kinda family oriented.

He smells good, I can almost smell his perfumeeeeee he smells good, he spends MONEY on it too.

Even the devil is afraid of him when he’s mad.

I think he's very private about his life in general, doesn't like to vent his problems.

Hot lover.

John Price

Now this man is a FATHER, my fucking dad I swear.

He seems pretty conservative to me, not in a bad way like he wants you to be his personal maid and slave, more like he wants to date to marry, hates casual sex.

Loves whiskey.

Dad energy, he would be so caring and loving with his child, he would give that baby the moon.

I don’t think he would love to date a younger woman, not a woman in her twenties at least, I think he would be into women his age.

If you feel disappointment by that, maybe you could try fixing your relationship with your dad, sweetheart ;).

Hates confrontation and loves to work things out.

Let’s not talk about how sex with be with the old man, okay? Thanks.

He's not that old, I get that but he looks like he's fucking 68.

Phillip Graves

He looks kinda daddy in that pic, not gonna lie.

“How come you don’t want to have sex? What about me? Have you thought about how that makes me feel? If your head hurts, sex would help but you never consider me, I’ll sleep in the couch”.

A selfish, self-centered bitch, only thinks about himself.

Feeling good having sex with him? Aw baby, try again cause this mf would use you like a damn toy and he couldn’t care less about your feelings or how much pain you’re in.

Cheater, he wouldn’t even be quiet about it. “Oh you want to divorce me? And where are you gonna go, sugar? You’re nothing without me”.

Doesn’t fucking know where the clit is, he doesn’t have a fucking clue.

Of course straight, loves to be white and American.

“Of course I can say whatever I want, I’m from America I have freedom of speech”.

Fuck you graves.

Rodolfo Parra

Perfect.

He seems so sweet and kind and considerate I love him.

Smart as hell, probably got the best grades when he was a kid.

Doesn’t hate anyone, no one hates him.

Loves nature and animals but he can’t enjoy it too much cause he is always busy.

Dreams about having a big family and a dog (a golden, probably).

Forget about having rough sex UNLESS he’s mad (fr mad like losing his shit but that doesn’t happen frequently).

Could be a teacher if he wasn’t in the army, he’s very patient and can explain things easily.

Have a pretty smile.

Valeria Garza aka MAMI

Feels like she needs to prove something, she was underestimated for so long in the army that now she’s always trying to prove to herself how badass and good at her job she is.

Almost no one knows the real Valeria, her favorite things, music taste, if she prefers cold or hot, coffee or tea etc.

She hates cold weather with all her MIGHT.

Likes to smoke only when she’s stressed.

Likes animals but thinks they’re so much work and she doesn’t have the time.

Did drugs once and hated it.

Feels guilty when she spots a church but she WOULD NEVER admit this shit to anyone.

Used to the worst of life so she didn’t like when someone is kind with her, is like “tf am I supposed to do with it???” but she gets used to it eventually.

I don’t think she has anger issues but def she doesn’t fucking know how to regulate her emotions, she lets stress take over her.

She would love a narcowife, kind of woman who wears a lot of beachy dresses and have a shitty personality like her (like Kate del Castillo in La Reina del Sur or in Bad Boys, exactly that kind of narcowife) (I’m kinda projecting, sorry lol).

I can’t picture her with a sweet girl and I think a sweet girl wouldn’t be able to handle that woman.

She keeps arguing even though she realized she’s in the wrong.

She wouldn't be able to spend a lot of time with her S.O, she's such a workaholic.

I don't think she likes to wear men clothes.

I don't think she hates kids but I can't picture her with kids.

Wouldn't divorce once she's married.

Btw I didn’t want to make this too sexual bc lately this fandom is full of just that, too much smut, too much violence and rape in the smut and it’s so graphic that I feel I’m watching instead of reading wtf, its uncomfortable and I honestly can’t picture the characters being that violent and vile.

As I said in my previous hcs… these guys are surrounded by violence, stress and blood every day, I personally don’t think they wanna get home to torture their partners (well, maybe graves cause he is a piece of shit that mf. Okay kidding, not even Graves is that much of a bastard).

[pedgito]

Hey! I'm very awkward when it comes to requesting stuff but I'm shooting my idea and if you decide to write it, awesome, if not, I'll still adore you and your work. Anyway, what about a reader that's always been kinda there and around but Eddie never noticed her. Maybe she lives in the trailer park as well and one day Wayne orders Eddie to help out neighbors with something and Eddie gets surprised by her existence or something...

I dunno, I just like the "falling for someone who was already there all the time" trope...

Thanks xx

author’s note: this has full fic potential and i love it, but enjoy what little drabble my brain could handle. <3

cw: sfw, neighbors/meet-cutes, set in 86, reader and eddie run in different circles, wayne is such a dad he can’t help it, this isn’t really fluffy exactly, but it’s very sweet

word count: 2k

Living near the Munson’s had always been, for a better lack of words, eventful. You move in six years prior, the world being ushered into a new era of the 80s, a quaint but rundown neighborhood that looked normal, and a new school to throw yourself into, again—your parents were also never really home.

So, as a result, you’d learn to care for yourself. It wasn’t their fault—things were tough, money needed to be made, and you were at the perfect age to manage keeping yourself alive and fed, regardless if it was done in a justifiable or acceptable manner. And the neighbors were nice—most of them, at least.

You’d learned pretty quickly that it was a place for the older residents of Hawkins, men and women in their late 50s alongside a couple small families—a young woman with a small toddler, another family of four, and right next door; an older gentleman and his son.

You never spoke to him, not once. Wayne, the older man in question, only finally spoke to you when he caught you outside on an early morning taking out the trash, parents having already left for the day.

He worked nights, so he had just come home from a very long shift, a cigarette perched upon his lips. He was nice, polite—but obviously exhausted.

“You alright, kid?” He asks suddenly, though his voice is calm.

He wasn’t oblivious to the fact that you were almost always on your own, driveway empty of cars or even a bike, leaving you chasing down the bus or walking to school most mornings.

You shrug honestly, offering a small smile.

“I’m managing.” You tell him, meaning it. “Thanks for asking.”

After that, it becomes a regular thing. Wayne checks up on you when he can, quick and fleeting conversations in the early mornings when the sun is just starting to come up.

You learn that his son isn’t actually his son, rather his nephew. He’s a couple years older then, trudging his way through the beginnings of a tumultuous freshman year—and you don’t see him often, only by coincidence in the halls where he doesn’t even glance your way.

He’s awkward, tall and lanky, hair in the weird stage of being too long and too short all at once—he’s probably growing it out, you think. It’s a wild next of curls that is nothing a brush couldn’t fix, but it didn’t seem like he owned one. Eddie, that is.

Wayne calls him Edward when he’s mad, coming home too late, being loud when he’s so desperately trying to sleep—you can hear all of it, the walls of your trailer are so thin that nothing is safe.

And life is busy; those six years pass in a breeze, but things are still the same. You’ve never spoken a word to Eddie, your parents are still gone most of the time, if not more now that you’re of age, and Wayne still looks as tired as before, though less buried under the weight of scourging for cash.

Eddie must have some type of job, or something—and he’s extremely loud, always playing with his guitar on the weekends when he’s home, amp placed under the bedroom window adjacent to yours. It’s not like you can really complain, it’s broad daylight, most people are out living their lives, but you’re stuck at home.

He can sing, you’ll give him that. So, it’s not all bad.

He drives too, a clunky piece of junk as Wayne calls it, but to Eddie, it’s his beloved. Wayne almost offers to ask Eddie if he’ll give you lifts to school, but you’re adamant in your refusal.

“I like walking, it’s fine.” You assure him. “I wouldn’t want to bother him.”

“Boy’s like my son, he’ll do it if I ask.” Wayne says, eyes flicking up toward Eddie’s bedroom, his shadow crossing the window. “You two would get along, you know.”

“I dunno,” You disagree, “we don’t exactly run in similar crowds.”

Wayne makes a noise, a small huff of acknowledgment.

“He’s struggling,” Wayne admits, “on his third try at graduating and I’m starting to think it’d be easier to pull him out and help him get his GED.”

You knew that much—Eddie should’ve graduated already, yet he was still stuck at the same lunch table for those following years, preaching to young minds of the susceptible D&D nerds.

“Maybe—“ You agree, but Wayne quickly cuts you off.

“Hey, you’re smart,” Wayne assumes, but he’s seen the textbooks you’ve brought home, levels above the classes Eddie takes, “got good grades?”

“Mostly A’s,” You admit, “m’trying to get into a good college and AP classes look good on paper.”

Wayne thinks for a moment, falling silent as he flicks the ashes away from his cigarette, “Think you can do me a solid?”

And Wayne’s never steered you wrong, even offering you dinner when your parents forget to buy groceries for the week, making sure your belly is just as full as his. He constantly grumbles about how careless you parents were, similar to Eddie’s—you never pried on that matter, feeling like it was none of your business.

“I can try.”

“How do you feel about tutoring Eddie?” He asks curiously, “He’s a good kid, I swear—he just can’t focus for shit.”

“I…don’t know.” You reply wearily, “I don’t think he wants to take that stuff seriously—“

“He does, he does,” Wayne insists, “it’s hard for him to learn in that type of setting, I think he needs the one on one. I understand if you don’t want to, I just think it might be worth tryin’.”

Wayne senses your hesitance.

“I’m sorry for asking, you don’t have to—“

“I will,” You respond quickly, not harping on it any longer, “I mean, I can.”

And maybe this was the biggest mistake you’ve ever made, but you wouldn’t know if you didn’t try.

You knock on the trailer door a couple days later, in the earlier hours on a Saturday morning, a book clutched to your chest and a tired smile on your face—but when the door opens, you’re not met with the same expression.

If anything, it’s surprise that’s riddling his face.

Wayne must not have said anything, which is just as mortifying.

“Who—“ Eddie stops himself, eyeing you carefully, “are you—don’t I have a class with you?”

You nod slowly, “Econ, yeah.”

“How do you know where I live?” Eddie asks, though he doesn’t sound offended, more amused if anything. “Did Dustin put you up to this?”

Henderson was a little shit, you knew that much—but you’d never spoken a word to him either.

“Eddie,” He’s just as shocked you know his name, eyes raking over your carefully, “I live next door.”

Eddie’s brows furrow, door cleaning open to peek at the trailer beside him, gaze quickly flicking back toward you. And suddenly it’s all clicking in his head, though slowly.

“You must be the reason I have to make an extra plate of dinner, right?” Eddie asks with a soft smile.

Whatever earlier assumptions you had about him dissipated into nothing, melted by the grin on his face and the subtle dimple in his cheek.

“It’s not my doing—Wayne worries about me.” You tell him, hoping he’ll understand. “Food’s good though, better than what I could make.”

Eddie widens the door silently, without question really, allowing you to step inside. It’s as barren as it is cluttered, random knick knacks on the shelves, counters, but devoid of trash.

“Wait, holy shit—you’re friend’s with Buckley, aren’t you?”

It’s startling, but you nod. You were—also in band with her, along with a long list of extracurriculars—why that one stood out the most to him, you’d never understand. You weren’t even aware Eddie knew you existed.

“Sort of,” You land on, “We’ve got a lot of classes together.”

And as if you weren’t already taken off-guard, Eddie speaks again.

“You play…trumpet?” He asks, snapping his fingers in celebration when you nod. “And piano?”

“How do you—no one knows that.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, genuinely confused, “I saw you playing a couple months ago—I was on the way to Hellfire and you were by yourself, I thought you were practicing for something—“

“You watched me play?” You ask curiously.

“Yeah, yeah—you’re really fuckin’ good.” Eddie admits, “It’s not really my style but I love music, so—“

And he’s mentally beating himself up over not recognizing you sooner, feeling like a complete ass.

“Well, I don’t know if Wayne told you, but he asked me to help tutor you.” You explain, “I get it you want to kick me out, I’m just trying to do good by your uncle, you know?”

Eddie shrugs carelessly, “We can try, but I’m not promising it’ll help.”

“Are you sure you have the time?” You ask, knowing his weekends were usually occupied by something a lot more distracting and loud. “No guitar practice today?”

Eddie snorts at that, “Shit, yeah—I’m sorry about that.”

“I’ve listened to it for six years, I’m used to it.”

Eddie gawks at that, feeling even worse.

“Hey, it’s fine—I wouldn’t notice me either.”

He smiles slightly, “It’s not that.”

You plead with him silently, following him to the small table tucked in the corner of his trailer, two chairs on either side.

“Kinda thought you were a ghost, honestly—“ Eddie admits, “or just like, figment of my imagination.”

You scrunch your nose in confusion, taking a seat across from him.

“I swear I’ve never seen you around here—that’s mostly my fault, I’m not home often.” Eddie tells you, “but I remembered your face when I’d see you at school, didn’t know your name—I mean, I still don’t but—“

You snort softly, offering him your name with a quiet interjection. He nods knowingly, grin growing wider.

“I feel like an asshole for not realizing you’ve been my neighbor for that long—Wayne always talked about you, kind of in passing, but I never thought anything of it.”

“I’m not offended, Eddie.” You tell him, hoping he’d understand.

And it’s not that Eddie didn’t remember your face, he just couldn’t believe it was real, that you were real. He could’ve sworn you didn’t exist at all, like he’s been making you up in his mind.

“Can we make a deal?” Eddie asks suddenly.

“Depends.” You counter, smile pulling at your face.

“If this works, will you teach me some stuff on the piano?”

Eddie was the definition of never judging someone at first glance, his interesting style contrasting his personality in the best ways. He’s always came off as dark, pensive, similar to his uncle in the way he always had a cigarette between his lips or a scowl on his face.

“If this works—sure.” You agree with ease.

“God, I feel like a total ass.” Eddie admits, slamming his fist against the table softly, “Six years, are you sure?”

“It’s not for lack of trying, Eddie.” You tell him, “If I wanted to be noticed you would’ve known. I’m really good at blending in, unfortunately.”

It still doesn’t change how he feels.

“Besides, you never realize how much people reveal about themselves when they don’t know you’re around.” You add shyly, eyes connecting with him briefly.

Eddie laughs slightly, leaning forward to flip the textbook open.

“We can circle back to that,” Eddie teases, “I won’t forget.”

There’s not a day that passes following where Eddie hasn’t wedged himself into your existence, determined to discover everything that he’s missed out on.

And it’s startling how much you like him, the fact of him being right out of reach for so long—it’s bittersweet.

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[charlesswife]

Una Noche En Mónaco iii

Mateo con Una T - part ii

unem masterlist

pairing: charles leclerc x latina! reader

summary: after a one night stand between you and charles, he continues on with his formula one career. until two months later, you come back claiming to be pregnant with his child.

warning: charles is an asshole, likeeeeeee proceed with caution. angstttt (i tried my best lmao)

This is the last piece of flashback you guys need to know, everything else you will find out as the story continues 🤭🤭

May 2018

“Charles Leclerc is a fucking asshole and I never wanna see him again,” I said as I got into the car. I took a deep breath and wiped my tears. 

“Why? What happened?” Steph asked, “Are you okay? What did he do? Do we kill him?” 

I looked at her and told her what happened. 

He told me to talk in the living room to talk. He was pretty chill. 

“So…” I started, “Um… I’m just gonna be straightforward with you,” I see him nod, I took a deep breath and said, “I’m pregnant.” 

He started at me for a second and said, “Really? Congrats! I didn’t know you were with someone already! You could’ve just told me this on the phone,” he laughed, “You didn’t have to come all the way here to tell me that. Good for you!” 

What? 

“No, Charles. I’m pregnant… with your child.” His smile slowly faded away. 

“Nope, I don’t think so.” 

“What? What do you mean ‘you don’t think so’?” I asked him. 

He got up from his sofa and started pacing around the room, “Question. Do you know who I am?” 

“Charles… Leclerc?” 

“And do you know what I do?” 

“You… race?” 

He stopped pacing and said, “Yup. Not mine.” 

“But it is!” I told him. 

“No,” He said again, this time more aggressive, “And do you know how I know this? Because why else would you come here to tell me this four days before the race? Either someone put you up for this, to mess me up or you are a con artist. So which one is it?” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” I shamed my head. 

“I don’t? Please, you are not the first one that has tried this trick on me. I don’t even remember your name!” he yelled, “And even if it’s true, what do you want me to do? You want me to love you? To marry you? I would never marry someone like you! How even old are you?” 

“I’m eighteen…” I murmured. 

“HA!” he laughed, “You probably got knocked up by some random dude and now you wanna blame it on me! The famous Formula One driver! What do you want from me? Is it money? Is that what you want?” He really knows how to hurt people with words. 

My eyes started to burn, “I don’t need money from you,” I told him. Tears started to roll down my cheek, “I just want you to be there… for us.” My voice broke. 

“Oh please, don’t do this, with your crocodile tears” He rubbed his face with his hands, “Besides, you don’t even look pregnant at all!”

I lifted my hoodie, showing my baby bump, and his eyes widen a bit. “We had sex on March, you would be at least two months along” 

“Eleven weeks,” I corrected him. 

“Eleven weeks, right? You look bigger than eleven weeks. You probably got pregnant before me and you’re trying to baby-trap me!” He yelled. But he was right, I’ve seen pictures online of women being eleven weeks pregnant, and I am bigger than them. 

“No, that’s not true at all! Charles, you were my first time!”

“Wow,” he said in a sarcastic way, “Lucky me. Do you think I’m going to believe any of this? Do you think I’m that stupid?” 

“So this asshole basically called you a baby-trapper, manipulator, gold digger, whore?” Steph was mad, and she had every right to be. 

I stayed quiet for a second, technically he did, but he didn't use those exact words. 

“Steph, let’s just go home” 

April 2023

“Mateo come here so I can put sunscreen on you!” My kid dropped his little toy and came to me, “We’re going to go to the bookstore and then get some ice cream. Does that sound good, Mati?” 

“Yummy!” he yelled. 

After I was done applying sunscreen he started to jump around the apartment yelling “Ice cream! Ice cream.” 

“Okay Mateo Alexander, let’s go” 

The car rides with Mateo are always fun. He points at all the cars he sees or sings whatever is on the radio — he doesn’t know the songs but he likes to pretend he does. 

Once we got to the bookstore, I got him out of the child seat and walked into the store with him in my arms. I approached the register and greeted Steph. 

“Pascale is here,” she said. “She finally came with her two sons, I didn’t see their faces though.” 

I rolled my eyes, “I’m going to check the store, keep an eye on Mateo, and don’t give him candy,” I warned her, she put her hands up in defense, “We’re getting ice cream later and you know how he gets if he has too much sugar in his system.” 

Mateo yelled, “Ice cream!” 

I laughed a bit as I was leaving. As I walked around the store, I helped a few customers here and there. 

I was organizing a shelf when I heard my name. “Y/n?” My heart dropped to the floor. I turned around but I saw no one. Am I hallucinating or did I hear the voice of Charles Leclerc in my store, calling my name? “Oh sorry, I thought you were someone I know.” The voice came from the other side of the bookshelf. 

I speed walked to another section of the store as I was texting Steph “Code Red, you know who is here. Get Mateo.” As I hit send, my body collided with someone else’s. The person grabbed me by the arms so I wouldn’t fall back. 

“Wow!” The male voice said. “What’s the rush? Are you okay?” The first thing that I noticed was his blue eyes and then his thin lips. 

“I’m so sorry,” I apologized. “I would’ve seen where I was going,” 

“It’s all good,” he said. “More than good.” He let go of me. 

We stayed quiet for a quick second, “I’m sorry to be so straightforward but you are very beautiful, like breathtaking beautiful.”

Oh

“I’m Arthur, by the way,” he extended his hand towards me. I took it. 

“Y/n,” I introduced myself. 

“Y/n,” he repeated. “Do you work here, Y/n? So I know if I should come back again,” he laughed. 

“I own this store,” I told him. “I’m usually here on the weekends,” As I said that, my phone beeped

Steph - I can’t find Mateo. 

“Umm… It was nice to meet you Arthur but I have some stuff to take care of,” I said as I walked away. 

“Wait! Can I get your number?” He yelled a bit. 

“Come back next week and we should see!” I waved goodbye. What’s wrong with me? I need to find Mateo and get out of here before He sees him. 

Charles POV

“It’s so nice to spend the day with my two boys, you guys are always so busy” 

“Yeah, too bad Enzo couldn’t be here,” Arthur said. 

“It’s fine, he’ll come next time,” Maman said. 

Maman decided to take Arthur and me to her new favorite bookstore because “we needed to go there” I opened the door for her. 

“What a gentleman, thank you, Charles,” She said. 

“Yeah, thank you Charles” Arthur mimicked her. 

The bookstore had a whole different vibe from the inside, it was like stepping into a new world. We were greeted by a Taylor Swift song that surprisingly I recognized. I Knew You Were Trouble. 

“You guys go walk around, I’m going to the café,” Maman said, as Arthur and I were walking away, she spoke again. “soy Charles, don’t go too far. You have to meet this girl, she’s so sweet and she has this kid who is a literal angel. He reminds me of you actually. A lot.” With that, she walked away. I looked at Arthur, who only shrugged. 

As I walked around the shelves I saw a very familiar figure. 

Is that…? “Y/n?” The lady turned around. It was someone else. Something in my heart wanted to be Y/n. “Oh sorry,” I apologized. “I thought you were someone I know” 

The lady left and soon after a small kid walked by, he was looking from side to side. 

“Are you lost?” I asked him. He stopped walking and turned around. I held my breath for a second. 

“No,” he said. “My mommy works here.” He turned around and was about to leave, but I didn’t want him to leave. 

“What’s your name?” I asked him. 

“I’m Mateo with one T,” he put one finger up. “What’s- umm” he took a long pause for a second. “You?”

I laughed a bit. “I’m Charles.” 

A big beep sounded and then the music at the store stopped. 

“Mati come to the front please.” 

“That’s me,” the kid said and then he left running. He stopped for a second and came back walking. “Goodbye.” He gave me a tiny wave and left walking again. 

I felt my phone vibrate and when I took it out I saw a new message from Arthur 

King Arthur: I think I just met the love of my life 🥴❤️

Me: 🤣🤣 in what? five minutes? 

King Arthur: Sometimes you look at someone and you just know, brother. 

Me: I know you are crazy 🤣🤣 

————————————————————

👀👀👀🫣 I APOLOGIZE FOR MY LATE POST AHHHHH but how good was this?! I wanna hear your thought and theories!! What do you guys think is going to happen next? 👀👀

I’ll edit it properly later on after work, but here’s the chapter!!

I can only tag 50 people :( so the taglist for Una Noche En Monaco is closed 😭 I’m sorry 😭😭

@mac-daddy-210 @infinite-wanders @rbrsavage @itsyogurlkel @bbygrlllllll  @nerdreader @imnotcryingyouare1 @killerangel88 @obx-mylove-things-blog @triorion @daniellarogers @insssanemind @bosinclairsgf @rb-danny @shyshva @booksobsess @ogfangirl @ravenqueen27 @masonspulisic @yunnie-f1 @simxican @ushygushybaby @graceverstappen11 @maximoff-xmen @severenswife @ferraribabe @pjofics @harrysdimple05 @mloyer @teti-menchon0604 @imagineadream @reidsworld @scentedskydreamer @christianpulisic10 @formulas-bitch @topguncultleader @hc-dutch @moonclaine @miureiz @tall-tanned-tattoo @madisontaxarn @bisexualbith @diasnohibng187 @im-just-here-toread @tyskills @rafaaoli @heavengirls111 @lighttsoutlewis @leclerc13 @c4ssi4-luv @livsans @ynbutbetter @marigoldgasly @vita-di-moda @sbrn0905 @yesshewrites1 @amsofftrack @fandomxs1 @ludmisorella @japanesekel @leclercsbae @padfootsiriusorionblackthethird @celestialams @dreamcarsound @bhiees @empathypostsf1

[nakahras]

᯽ cop car • oda sakunosuke

synopsis • a chronicle telling of your life before having a relationship with odasaku, during your relationship with odasaku and after your relationship with odasaku

warnings • lower case is intentional, canon compliant, mcd, angst, depictions of anxiety/panic attacks, reader has an ability (description below), fem!reader

wc • 2.8k

a/n • odasaku makes me really sad and i just needed you guys to be sad with me ig </3

᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽

ability • fujyo no kagami/a great example of women: allows the user to apply endless perfect actions to something/someone that’s considered feminine. user can apply this rule to herself as a woman. if applied to something/someone masculine the ability takes on the opposite effect. a rule is applied where every action taken results in failure. user cannot apply this rule to herself.

᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽

before

you were terrified all the time. like a scared animal overwhelmed by its own mind, you would snap, and you would bite. even while climbing the ranks of an organization like the port mafia, you felt alone. you would never blame anyone else for it though. how could you when you so plainly knew how unapproachable you were.

your face was permanently sketched into a scowl. your attitude was less than savory. your arms always folded across your chest in annoyance. your foot tapping impatiently whenever someone was talking just a little too long for your liking. your bad attitude deterred any chances of connecting with someone.

you were accustomed to it. becoming the port mafia’s assassin made it easy to lurk in the dark. that meant going places most people didn’t like to follow. most being the key word there.

there was one persistent person that fought his way into your life. your bared teeth and unsheathed claws never being a deterrent for him. he was crazy, maybe even had a death wish.

it was the only explanation you had for him never backing down.

you had your fair share of run-ins with other children assassins. this one in particular, though, always stood out amongst the rest. he had burnt umber hair and deep dark blue eyes that seemed to look right through you. oda sakunosuke, at least that’s what he had introduced himself as. after letting you take the kill and bounty money on several occasions. he was a gentleman even at a young age.

you were ruthless though. you would take advantage of his kindness knowing exactly why he was so generous with you. he felt bad, the pity seeped from his pores and clogged your senses. it made you want to be cruel. so you were. you never showed him an ounce of gratitude.

oda sakunosuke never asked for it, he waited patiently for you to be ready.

᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽

during

he teases you constantly for it. how hostile you used to be. fighting tooth and nail to keep him at arm's length. you would try to stay mad at him for it but when you saw the way his face would light up when he lets out a genuine and hearty laugh you would immediately melt. how could you keep up the facade when he looked so beautiful laughing like that.

it had been quite some time now, since he joined the port mafia. almost 3 years.

you tried to avoid him at first. sure, he was familiar but he was a lower rank than you, there was no reason for him to “accidentally” run into you on most of your missions. he didn’t even kill anymore, so, how did he think he could be helpful? he was of course. he had your back when you were just a little too overwhelmed. eventually you swallowed your pride and showed your appreciation by inviting him out for drinks.

bar lupin. that was the name of the bar oda asked you to meet him at. he said he was bringing a plus one, offering that you could bring someone of your choosing too if you’d like. you felt embarrassed when you had to tell him that you didn’t have anyone to invite. the one person you had was far too young to go to a bar with you. hell, you were almost too young, but you didn’t want to spend today alone. that’s the whole reason you set this up for today specifically.

you walk down the stairs only to be met with…confetti? you draw your face back in shock and blink a few times before you realize it’s oda who just let off a little confetti popper next to you. you don’t even take note of your surroundings and just hone in on him. you give him a look as if he’d just spontaneously grew another head. oda quickly hides the evidence behind his back but it’s clearly too late for that.

“...was that?” he can’t have known what that specific day was, right? there is no way. at least that’s what you told yourself until you heard a distinct voice chime in from across the bar.

“i advised him against it. i’m honestly shocked you didn’t tackle him to the ground for that one.” ango sakaguchi, the top intelligence agent for the port mafia. if anyone knew what today's significance was, it would be him.

you let out a sigh. you’d had a few dealings with ango, so you were somewhat familiar with him. despite his slightly older age, you spoke with him casually. “i suppose this is your doing, sakaguchi?”

“i just thought it made for good conversation. i was right, of course.” ango shrugged his shoulders and took a sip of his beverage.

you looked over at oda who had a sheepish look on his face. at least he had the decency to look embarrassed. you thought to yourself. you shake your head but couldn’t help the endearment that rose in your stomach and settled in your chest to spread an unfamiliar warmth. you looked back at oda expectantly, trying your best to bite back a threatening smile.

“well? are you gonna at least say it?” you cross your arms over your chest and raise a brow at the former assassin.

oda lost his voice for a moment, he didn’t think he had ever seen you so… relaxed. it took him a moment but he finally managed to croak out, “happy birthday, precious.”

“just for that stunt you pulled when i walked in, you’re buying me a drink.” you said quickly as you turned around, trying desperately to hide how red your face got all because of a simple pet name. you’ve heard him use them before with others but never directed towards you and never specifically the word precious. you quickly took a seat one stool away from ango, leaving the middle for oda.

a few hours pass and you’re on your 4th drink, not counting the 3 shots oda fed you slyly. ever the gentleman though, he would make sure to take one with you. it was safe to say you were beyond feeling just a little tipsy. your face was hot and tongue felt heavy but that didn’t stop you from arguing with ango over some subject you don’t even remember. ango just had such a disagreeable face when you were this many drinks in.

oda watched with such fondness in his eyes, he had always wanted to see you this relaxed, craved it even. it’s been so long that he’s felt this way about you that he can’t even remember a time he wasn’t infatuated with you. he doesn’t even realize it, but he has this stupid/goofy smile on his face as he watched you attentively. at some point you had moved to the middle stool so your back was to oda. you were so animated that he didn’t even care that he couldn’t see your face right now.

oda is so dazed that you startle him when you whip around and look to him expectantly. he’s taken so off guard that his face twisted into a confused grimace in the most comical way and spits out an eloquent, “heh?”

oda watched as your eyes brightened when you squinted at him. oh. you were smiling widely, the first smile he had ever seen reach your eyes like this. no, you weren’t just smiling, you were laughing. the sound was quite possibly the most beautiful thing oda had ever heard. far better than any music he would ever listen to in his lifetime, he was so sure of it. it was like a siren song and you had ensnared him in it.

after that night, oda was yours. you had successfully trapped him and he had no plans of escaping any time soon.

᯽•᯽

he was yours, that was, until ango betrayed you all and mimic surfaced and oda lost virtually everything in a single moment.

it was early when he came to you. he’d just lost his family, the five children you had begun to see as your own and help him raise had been taken from you far too early. you cried — no, that was an understatement. you wailed from the depths of your soul. life was so unfair. it took quite some time for you to calm down. when you did, you saw the dull, almost lifeless, look in oda’s eyes. of course he had told you the whole story, so immediately you knew where his mind was going.

the panic took root in your chest and spread across your entire body. you felt in your stomach in the form of twists and knots. you felt it in your throat in the form of bile burning your throat, threatening to be released. you felt it in your nervous system in the form of hyperactivity, your limbs shaking uncontrollably. you reached out with trembling fingers and desperately clutched onto the material at oda’s chest.

“no- no, sakunosuke. you can’t- it’s not- i can’t lose you too.” your mind was working too fast for your mouth to catch up. every thought soaring through the forefront of your brain getting lost in translation.

he didn’t look at you, he didn’t say anything. he knew if he looked at you right then and there he would fold, he’d give in and that was just something he couldn’t allow himself to do.

you became more desperate, bringing him closer and shifting your hands to hold his face. “sakunosuke, look at me. you can’t do this. not alone. i won’t ask you to not go but, please, let me go with you.”

“no.” that caught his attention. he looked at you sharply and spoke firmly.

you looked at him with wide and watery eyes. “you can’t go alone. if i go…it’ll be safer if i go. please don’t go alone. i can’t let you go alone.” you weren’t breathing. or maybe you were? it felt as though your lungs weren’t receiving any oxygen. they burned as you gasped for air. everything felt as though you were free falling, the adrenaline from it setting all of your nerves on fire. it was frustrating, you were losing your mind over losing your heart — practically your soul.

after a moment there was a glint of remorse that set in his deep blue eyes. he held you again until you were calm enough to hear him out. “are you able to listen to me?”

“no, i have no interest in anything you have to say to me right now, odasaku. i just want you to stay.” your eyes were pleading with him, voice begging him to just listen to you.

who knew a simple shake of the head could shatter your heart in one blow. “i can’t. i have to do this, precious.”

“don’t. don’t call me that right now. not when you-” you choked on another sob, you had lost count of how many tears you’d shed that morning. “let me go with you then. i could ensure your safety. you don’t have to go alone.”

he didn’t think his own heart could break more than it already had. the desperation that bled into your repeated words proved him wrong. “i have to do this on my own. it has to be done alone. someone has to look over that little punk.”

“dazai will never forgive me if i let you go.” you were grasping at straws, silently praying something would convince oda to not go.

oda sighed and you knew you had already lost. you had no chance of winning this. “maybe not at first, but he will. eventually, he will.”

you’d resorted to sobbing again, you were honestly surprised with yourself, you didn’t think you had this many tears to shed. “just…kiss me one more time. before you go, please.”

and how was he supposed to refuse such a simple final request of him when he was asking the world of you. he held your face gingerly and crashed his lips to yours. the kiss was wet and his lips tasted salty from the mixture of both your tears. he was crying too. he poured everything he had left in his heart out into a single kiss. it lasted exactly 7 seconds before oda was pulling away completely. he doesn’t look back as he pushed himself up. you crumbled completely to the ground and even as oda closed the front door of your home behind him he could hear the heart breaking sobs and wails that tore from your throat.

you didn’t think you would ever have to live without odasaku. the reality of it hit you in an instant. you would be living in it, a world after odasaku and you would continue living in for the rest of your own life.

᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽•᯽

after

it had been 3 days. you were numb all over. your chest ached where your heart used to be. you’re sure it was still there, just laying in small pieces. the service had ended an hour ago but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave.

you heard familiar footsteps approaching you. you didn’t need to look at him to know who it was.

“you shouldn’t be here, traitor.” your voice was flat, no emotion behind it. you couldn’t even bring yourself to sound betrayed.

ango almost winced at how tired you sounded. “i figured you could be found here. i wanted to pay my respects too. despite my actions, i valued his friendship.”

you looked at him sharply. how dare he have the audacity to still call him a friend? how dare he be so bold when you couldn’t even bring yourself to say his name. you’ve tried, but the moment oda slipped out of your arms that day, every moment afterwards you would choke on his name. you were so tired of crying, so you couldn’t bring yourself to try anymore.

“did you do what i asked of you?”

“yes. you know dazai won’t like you following him…”

you let your head fall back and shut your eyes. breathing in the fresh air and enjoying the sea breeze, you almost forgot where you were. standing at oda’s freshly buried grave. “i’m quite aware of his distaste for me.”

“so then why go? why ask me to wipe your slate clean?” ango’s tone is so incredulous, he didn’t understand but you expected as much from him. he had his faults and one of them was his selfishness, something you could never quite get past.

“because he asked me to, it was his last wish of me. he was failed by so many people in life, how could i possibly fail him in death?” the treacherous man opened his mouth as if to argue but you shook your head and cut him off. “that’s a rhetorical question, ango. the answer is: i can’t. i suppose i’ll see you again someday. take care until then. i’ll never forgive you if you die by another's hand…”

with that you seemingly disappeared. there was almost no trace left of you. the only tell that you were still present was the fresh bouquet of flowers appearing at oda’s gravestone every week.

you resurface a year and a half later, finding yourself in front of the armed detective agency. it wasn’t planned. you weren’t supposed to show up in front of their office door for another year. but you happened across a man your age, although he resembled a much younger man. he introduced himself as ranpo and invited you back after requesting your help with a case.

you were welcomed with open arms. you had found a new family. it terrified you.

six months later dazai joined the ada. he was not pleased by your presence but he pretended it didn’t bother him. no one was the wiser. except for you of course. you gave him the space he needed but still looked out for him from a distance. he came around eventually. after all, you were all he had left of odasaku.

he was even there for you when you had a mental break down about falling in love again. you’d promised yourself you would never love another man but the universe had a sick and twisted sense of humor. it wasn’t a man you had fallen head over heals for, it was yosano akiko who had caught your attention. she was patient with you and gave you the space you needed.

you eventually found yourself at his grave stone on a rainy day.

“i met someone. i made good on my promise, it’s not another man. her name is yosano, i think you would have gotten along with her. dazai thinks the world of her. i’m scared… the last time i loved someone this deeply… what do i do?”

as if to give you his blessing, the storm that had been raging for 3 days slows and comes to a complete stop. you let out an incredulous laugh. for the first time in years you utter his name.

“thank you, sakunosuke.”

[all-pacas]

Unpopular opinion:as a Chase fan,I don't like his fanon self much. He seems too... Soft,for the lack of a better word? People seem to erase his harsher edges and bad attitudes in favour of a fragile person who wouldn't survive a second under House.

lmao god his fanfic self is so funny. he’s so sweet and prone to self harm and uwu. like mind you, i also see plenty of stuff on tumblr that’s like “this SPOILED RICH KID who is SO DUMB and SO ENTITLED” and i’m like calm down about that also. i’ve been reading a lot of ffn stuff recently and it’s fascinating to see what was written during the show’s run. chase really does get polished to a shine.

i think it’s easy to make chase soft on the one hand: he cries more on the show than anyone else (love that for him), he’s also kind of quiet. weirdly, i think the cam/chase romance is also a factor: the show pretty consistently… does some interesting things with that ship, but, cameron is generally (if gently/sympathetically) shown to be in the wrong, and chase to be the patient and forgiving boyfriend, right? (and this is because the relationship is shown thru cameron’s pov and lens and in terms of her character development; she gets to Make Mistakes so that she grows; chase is largely just her accessory). and then when she leaves, we get to see him be upset about it, which of course only adds to the uwu pretty sadboy filter.

but yeah! chase is prickly! like post-divorce everyone is being really nice and he is super rude and sarcastic and dismissive. he makes sarcastic little comments constantly. he is prone to sulking and passive-aggression. he wants validation and is kind of needy and when he doesn’t get those things he starts rolling his eyes and making weird comments (”works for spaghetti!”). chase also, i think, thinks… pretty highly of himself? like i don’t think he’s arrogant exactly, he’s no foreman. but he clearly doesn’t struggle with self worth. he knows he’s a good surgeon, he knows he’s got money, he hilariously thinks it’s his personality and not his looks that make women like him. he knows he is very good looking. while that isn’t to say he can’t be insecure (he really can be, at least when cameron is concerned), he isn’t self loathing. he knows he’s good at talking to people and doing his job and being pretty.

he’s pretty good at putting on a charming front when he needs to, but it’s very much a front. one of my favorite little things is that in poison he’s chatting up the patient’s mom, lightly joking, being friendly. she gets him removed from the case and he’s outraged, quote: “She complained? About me?” He is literally so mad that someone wouldn’t like him. he is offended. not hurt. not upset. it makes him angry. he is charming, intentionally, he is doing a strategy (his words), people complain about him? it comes up in the mistake, too; stacy mentions he always gets great patient reviews and foreman complains it’s because chase is fake as hell. and other times! chase is so polite and friendly to house, he is completely dismissive of foreman. he barely manages a polite front to park and masters, he can’t wait to not talk to them. he’s (affectionately) fake as all fucking hell. i love the scene in s5 where foreman/13/kutner want him to do a surgery and chase is like lol you’re not house fuck off. like he’s so dismissive. chase gets accused of having no backbone all the time, but the fact is, he has no issue sticking up for himself or being dismissive. when he likes someone he will do anything and everything with no complaint (see: house, cameron), but he doesn’t really like most people. foreman sure as hell never gets a single favor from chase, lmao.

and then to flip-flop, that isn’t to say he can’t be genuine or soft. like, he definitely bonds with children almost whenever he sees one. he hugs house with no ulterior motives. it’s also not to say he can’t be an uwu sadboy, although whenever he is depressed he tends to cover it with as much avoidance/sarcasm/sleeping around and drinking as possible. but like! the kid has been through a lot in his life! just the fact that he moved around the world and left everything behind is actually pretty tough! he’s had to take care of himself since he was a kid, he had two abusive parents, if he was to have a sadboy breakdown it sure wouldn’t be because of house. he’s a fucking survivor. he ratted to vogler because he would rather house hated him than be unemployed, and had no regrets. he’s great and i love him and he deserves it every time he gets punched in the face or called useless

[autumn-foxfire]

Wearing my Van Gogh sunflowers pajamas to watch movie 19: the hellfire sunflowers! What's not to love about this film, Art and KID.

Kaito spotted!

The amount of money the rich have disgusts me. I like Jirokichi but I know that this is really how the rich spend their money while the rest of the world suffers.

To be able to make Kamen Yaiba out of a watermelon is impressive.

Ai calling out Shinichi for his interest in art more than the professors invention (I don't blame him), I love thier friendship.

Sonoko has said she's not really interested in taking on the family name but she would be good at the job. It's no wonder that Jirokichi chose her to accompany him to make this announcement.

Shinichi is so close to the screen T-T The boys is obssessed. I don't blame him though.

Shinichi is so goddamn dramatic. "I only saw that for a moment but was that really my husband?" as the camera spins around him. If that was Kaito than DAAAMN. We don't appreciate his mad skills enough.

And he's slipped into his favourite disguise, his husband.

I love women looking out for other women. We vibe.

Ran's outfit is very cute for a change.

Kaito seeing Sonoko on the phone: Well, that's my cue to leave.

Shinichi you know your husband wouldn't put people in danger like that. Shame on you!

Kaito: The things I do for art (and my assistant).

The should be thanking Kaito, really, he just saved that piece of art.

SONOKO CALLING OUT TO RAN T-T SHE LOVES HER SO MUCH. She doesn't know if they'll survive and her last thoughts are for her closest friend. Fuck I adore that.

Shinichi after avoiding being hit by an airplane: I think my life just flashed before my eyes.

I love how the Shinichi's priorities are KID while Ran's are her friends.

Ran really thought you just fucking DIED Shinichi. And Shinichi is too busy with Kaito T-T I hurt for her but also I just want to scream about how when Kaito is in the picture, he has Shinichi's complete attention like a man possessed.

Round two with the Iron Tanuki.

The one thing the movies do that is close to canon is having Shinichi show so little care for Ran's feelings and I wish they wouldn't. Can he not be such an awful friend to her.

Sonoko and Kaito need to be come friends. Kaito deserves a friend like her who will defend him to the death.

Shinichi is also aware there is something off about what's happening with KID and wants to discover the mystery his husband is leaving for him.

Come on kids T-T Look at the other pieces of art! It's not often you get to see such amazing pieces.

I know this old women is important to the plot but can we not imply romance just from two people who trust one another greatly. I adore Shinichi and Ai's relationship because they're partners in crime and have promised to watch each other's backs.

Be careful of this transport service, the last one borrowed Scream for a picture in his house.

Kogoro: Stop making noise!

Shinichi: I'm literally fucking helping you useless drunk.

Shinichi is so confused about what's going on T-T Poor guy's like "this isn't like my husband..."

Of course the American is like "I need a gun".

Well, at least Charlie is acknowledging that Shinichi is useful and is helping him look at the screens.

And he was right because only Shinichi would notice something so small.

Kaito is like: I'm going to redistribute all this wealth!

Well done king. I hope people managed to grab a few of the bills.

I don't think this is how Jirokichi wants to be remembered XD

When you can't extort a ticket from Agasa, go to the ones running the competition XD

The children should be grateful Shinichi is so obsessed with Kaito as they only got the tickets because he's useful to Jirokichi.

Shinichi: Kill my husband and I will make you regret it

Ah, that's Jii.

At least Kaito is playing the role of Shinichi very well, avoiding his love interest to the best of his ability.

Thank you Ai for being a responsible guardian for the children. I don't know why you were the only one made to do so. I know why Ran has gone with Shinichi and Sonoko, but she should have stayed behind to look after them to ensure their safety.

Shinichi has finally figured out why his husband is being weird. It took him the whole movie

I was going to say this movie lacked murder. Nevermind, though it's never shown on screen. Well, it's not much of a murder but more self-defence even if the brother never meant to kill him, he was still using a gun.

KAITO MY BABY T-T

Kaito: SHINICHI TELL ME YOU'RE NOT!

Shinichi: I am! (Kicks debris at the painting)

And they have Ran's incredibly strength to free it.

He's jealous that he's not the one hugging Kaito :p

Awww, Kaito really was relying on Shinichi to figure it out. It's no wonder the next movie has them properly team up.

Stop flirting with one another! Your lives are in danger!

Shinichi stop taking credit for Kaito's work. He saved the sunflowers. Well he and Ran.

Shinichi is just calling out this woman's bullshit. This is what happens when people believe they're better than mutlple experts (cough what happened with Covid).

Kaito: GODDAMNIT IT SHINICHI!

And there's the necessary forced Ran and Shinichi romance. At least it happened between her and KID so it was more like filling the quota.

Kaito: Please say you made it out, Shinichi.

KAITO ABOUT TO REVEAL HIMSELF DESPITE THE DANGER HE'S IN HIMSELF BECAUSE HE'S CONCERNED FOR SHINICHI T-T

What would have made this movie better if Kaito did just rush out of the trees and into the water to save Shinichi. He's done it before.

Movie Kogoro is being a decent and caring guardian. You only see it rarely.

I just want to appreciate how good he looks.

LMAO KAITO STOLE AGASA'S TICKET. I THOUGHT HE JUST TOOK THE ONE SONOKO GOT FOR SHINICHI.

[likeadevils]

What exactly happened between Taylor and Olivia Rodrigo?

it seems like neither partner really wants to talk about it, i would guess because there’s not that much to talk about. like, the list down there looks long, but (from the outside, as someone who casually keeps up with olivia) i would characterize it as a series of small but complicated events that caused olivia to decide she couldn’t grow as an artist while under taylor’s shadow. and from what i can tell, those are:

olivia felt creatively stifled, and taylor getting writing credits on deja vu heightened that— she’s mentioned a few times how damaging other artists claiming credits on sour was to her creative process, and how it made her feel like she couldn’t write anything original enough to be worthwhile. to be fair, olivia outright said she got the idea for the screaming part on deja vu from listening to cruel summer, so like. it wasn’t like taylor didn’t deserve credit, but i don’t think olivia was wrong for being hurt by it— it’s hard enough to find your voice as a 17/18/19 year old, let alone when all anyone can say is how it sounds just like this other person who did it much better than you. that’s going to take a toll, and taylor was (imo completely unintentionally) part of that storm for olivia

i also wouldn’t be surprised if olivia felt a little stung by taylor being so close to sabrina, even though i imagine all parties involved understand each other’s reasoning. but that’s just pure speculation on my part, i don’t think anyone close to olivia has even hinted at that. olivia has taken great pains to make it clear that she was mad at uh. josh something? jake? feminism win, local blogger forgets that guys name. but anyway shes always been careful to make her songs and public statements about that guy’s wrongdoings, not sabrina. that being said, from olivia’s music, it seems like she struggles a lot with comparing herself to other women, even as she knows that’s not like, a good path to go down. and uh. “my favorite artist has been so kind and patient with the woman who my first love left me for, while said favorite artist flippantly hit me where i’m weakest” is an tempting narrative to make yourself feel really bad, and who among us has not felt the call of an tempting narrative to make ourselves feel really bad

irregardless of any hurt, i think a big part of olivia distancing herself from taylor is an attempt to distance her brand from like, the “taylor swift fan first, songwriter in her own right second” thing that interviewers and to a certain degree the general public was treating her like.

i really don’t want this to come across as like, olivia is overly emotional and taylor is a careless money-hungry superstar, so of course olivia harbors a deep animosity to taylor— i think it’s just a case of two people who aren’t in a place where they can have a healthy, close mentorship, at least not publicly. and that’s okay! sometimes you come into peoples lives when you aren’t ready, and out of respect for them and you, you move on. from what they’ve chosen to make public, i don’t think it’s a feud, just olivia doing what she needs to do to grow as an artist and person

[cheemscakecat]

Missing in Action

Chapter 1: Morning

Scout is smarter than people give him credit for, and tensions are high after he confronted Spy.

TW: Angsty. Scout’s got some low self esteem.

How’d he figure it out? Scout got asked by a couple of teammates over the next few days. When he’d been dying on the floor and “Tom Jones” showed up, he thought it was real. There was a chance that Jones could be his dad, even if the odds were crap. And he was dead already because Soldier decided to kill him. It made enough sense to Jeremy that his dead dad would come to collect his soul.

But “Heaven” didn’t. Scout was too embarrassed to share what “God” told him, about him and women. It was the fact that he walked into Heaven and Tom wasn’t following him, despite coming to collect him. The fact that Jones got his neck snapped by angels when Scout got close, the fact that he was in the middle of a game and not anywhere near “Heaven’s” entrance.

And there was the fact that he hadn’t died. Medic told him that because of his size, loosing too much blood made him cat-a-tonic. Soldier n Pyro thought he died in Siberia when they went to get Heavy for the same reason. All that bleeding made him hull-you-san-ate, which explained his dumb version of Heaven. It also meant that there was no ghost coming to greet him that day. And there was only one teammate with a dopey disguise kit to pull that crap off.

Jeremy didn’t really sleep that first night back at base. He wished Spy had left him alone until they got to base, so he could chew him out private like. But then again, maybe the others needed to know so they’d be disgusted with Spy too. At least Ms. Pauling hadn’t heard it. She had enough goin on herself. He wished he’d realized what was going on with her on his own, but she had been hidin it real well. Being from Boston and having Ma calling to talk about life, he’d heard about the gays tryin to get their rights. It was good that he understood Pauling’s reasons for keepin secrets, he didn’t wanna be mad at her like he was mad at Spy.

Scout still wished he had a girlfriend. One that did like guys. His brothers drilled it into him that real men don’t hug each other when they get all teary-eyed. And that getting teary-eyed made you a weak little crybaby. The only person at home that would’ve hugged him was Ma, and sometimes she was just too busy chasin them all around. So after 20 years dealing with that, he’d drop dead before he ever went to a teammate for a hug. They mighta laughed in his face, just like his siblings. So he wished he had a girlfriend to hug him, so nobody would make fun’a him for getting comfort.

It didn’t really matter though. He was still the runt, no matter what. He hated Spy for being so **** skinny and fragile. Hated taking after him, instead of any’a the men on Ma’s side of the family. Hated the fact that loosin blood made him look dead and made him think of stupid crap. Hated being a virgin at 27, and being too dumb to identify a lesbian. Scout didn’t know what to do with himself.

**** Saxon calling him a it, like he wasn’t even a human being. At least that “Mags” lady turned Hale down; the selfish ******* deserved it.

No, Jeremy didn’t sleep that night. At breakfast, which Engineer and Heavy threw together, they gave him an extra few strips of bacon. Thankfully he got to enjoy it, since Spy didn’t bother him. Yet.

————————

A whole lotta planning was going on for fightin BLU as a placeholder job, using the Administrator’s leftover money hoard. Pauling figured she could find someone willing to pay teams to fight, but it might be a while. If BLU and RED ceased to be, most’a them wouldn’t have references at another merc recruitment. She had’ta find something for everyone who wanted the work.

Soldier was planning to marry Heavy’s weird sister, Sniper wasn’t doing too well, Engineer had to get used to Medic and Pyro being around, and they all had to get their things and unpack. It was gonna take a while.

Spy didn’t bother him until that third morning back. He was hovering near Scout’s room out in the hall. Great. At least he didn’t look smug and “better” n everyone when he awkwardly walked up. “Are you in the mood to talk?” Spy asked cautiously. Jeremy just stared back at him in disgust. “What do you think, *****?”

“Okay.” It bothered Scout that his old man thought he’d ever want to talk.

Two more days went by and Spy asked again, this time after dinner. And again 4 days after that, when Jeremy finally told him he’d come talk if he ever felt like it, and to quit asking. Then Spy finally left him alone.

Jeremy sold some of his Tom Jones merch, which was thankfully still mint condition in that craphole Teufort. The people there weren’t trying to hang him anymore, but he still wanted his crap moved. Just being there made his neck prickle and itch, made him remember that goon crowd salivating as he got dropped. Now that Jones had been dead for a while, true-blue collectors were scramblin to buy. Scout kept the best stuff for himself, so he could sell it when he was old as dirt and it would go for more.

It was hard to sort through that collection, but he’d rather sit in a storage unit feeling heartache than deal with Spy. Sent the money back to Ma, shipped his bedroom crap back to base. He found that bein all organized was helpful; it distracted him. He looked for other towns that might have fried chicken and good storage for his collectibles. There was one hours away, if he could get enough motorcycle fuel.

A bunch of people bounced back fast. Whether Spy did or not was the last thing Scout cared to know, but that wasn’t the case for Sniper. He spent a lot of time holed up in that van, more than he used to. Demoman pulled him aside one day and told him why. As much as he hated Spy, he hated the fact that poor Sniper had to hear about it a heck of a lot more.

Stupid, stuck up New Zealand parents. Jeremy made an effort not to whine about Spy around Sniper, it wasn’t fair to him. Ms. Pauling was busier than any of them combined. At least she was smart and useful, two things Jeremy was not. “It’s not like that’s all you ever do.” The woman he loved saw nothing worthwhile in him. He wasn’t sure he’d ever find love. Who would want a loser runt like him, with 7 dumb brothers and a dad who smells like an ashtray?

Just stay busy. Ma’s right, it helps! At least, that’s what he told himself. Four of his brothers had actual wives, the others were not alone like him. Ugh, stop thinking about it! Scout kept working and trying to distract himself, but even being tired from all that wasn’t enough to make good sleep. He had all sorts of dumb freakin nightmares for those first 9 days. Somehow being back on that gallows in Teufort was the worst one.

Day 10 came and Pauling briefed them over the big computer that Engineer built. She deli-gated people to do certain things every other day. She had to do the same for freakin BLU.

“Spy? I need you to gather your things from one of the other bases. You guys are gonna be here for a while.” Spy froze. “Which base is it?” He asked. “Harvest.” That was 4 days away, in freakin Arizona! Not that Jeremy cared. “Alright. I’ll leave in an hour.”

——————-

Scout had a bad feeling that somethin was gonna go wrong. He tried to ignore it, but over the hour it just got stronger and more annoying. He found himself walking to the garage 5 minutes till Spy said he’d leave. He tried not to make eye contact and tinkered with his motorcycle. It’s nothing. Just stop being so weird about-

“Scout?” Spy was way too close, but Jeremy played it cool. “Just workin on this.” He muttered. Spy sighed real shakily and looked away. “Listen.” He begrudgingly looked up.

“I’m going to come back. I promise.” Scout stared up at him blankly. He scoffed and furiously started picking at metal that was fine where it was. Dumb Spy, acting like he’s a kid! Freakin- “I mean it.” Jeremy paused. “I’m going to come back.” Stupid little tears were tryin to form in his eyes. “Whateva.” He choked out. Spy walked away and started his car, which also hadn’t been destroyed in Teufort. And then he left.

Funny. That stupid gut feeling didn’t go away.

[dyns33]

Snatch

I couldn't find any Mickey O Neil x reader story so I wrote one

And since I like Turkish, the story is from his pov

Most people don't know that I have a sister.

Probably because I don't, nor by blood, nor by adoption. Nothing legal or signed on a stupid piece of paper.

But when people ask me, I tell them that I'm her brother.

Yeah, I don't know her name or her adress. So what ? My sister is special.

We met years ago, during a difficult time for both of us. I helped her, she helped me, we knew after that we would always help each other, and she became my little sister.

It was a surprise when I learned about her and Mickey.

I didn't even know that she knew about him, but my sister always knows eveything. She has her weird ways to always know when I'm in deep shit.

She met Mickey a bit after the first combat, and before Brick Top decided to do a barbecue with his mother.

Never told me about that, or at least not when he was around. Maybe she was afraid I would be mad and try to act like a silly big brother, maybe she just thought it was none of my fucking business back then.

But after the gypsies left, she told me.

I could tell it was hard for her. I think she liked him, even if she didn't use the word. My sister never uses words when it comes to things like that.

"I can't believe he knows my adress." she said while staring at the wall, finishing her beer.

Mickey knows her adress. I don't. Nobody does.

It meant something.

After everything that happened in her life, my sis has problems trusting people, men or women. Tommy and I are exceptions, but even with us, she has some limits.

God knows why, the fucking pikey was special. More than me. I'm not jealous. But he broke her heart for sure, and so of course I'm not pleased.

I could see her tiny fragile heart when she told me about their night, and when she came at the arcades months later.

"They're back."

She didn't need to say who. I understood.

What I didn't understand right away was this thing in her eyes. In her voice.

My sister never cries. Not in front of me, not in front of anyone, and certainly not for an asshole. But she was about to, because of him.

"He won't come here." I promised.

She told me I was a stupid optimist, and that I didn't know him. He was inpredictable according to her. So she avoided the arcades, and my place, and the city, and I didn't like that.

Of course I was ever more pissed when she was right and Mickey showed his face, saying that he needed money, he wanted to fight, and he was ready to do it for us since we were good fellas.

He seemed surprised when I refused, and a bit upset. That was easy money, for him and for me.

He was not wrong about that, this fucker was one of the best boxers I ever met, and I could become rich by working with him. But first of all, I'm already rich, thanks to Tommy and his weird dog which offered us a big diamond.

And most important, he hurt my sister.

He seemed even more surprised when I tell him that.

Oh, he understood better why I refused his deal, he did.

He's surprised, because he didn't think that I knew about him and my sister.

I can tell that he's an only kid, like me. I guess the girls at the camp are not talking to their father or brothers, keeping their things to themselves, so nobody would bother them with rules and comments.

I had no idea how to react the first time my sister opened my door, went on my sofa and started to talk about things I didn't care about, people I never fucking heard of, problems that were not mine, but something in my chest told me that it was important. That it meant something.

So I listened, like a good brother.

I asked her once if I was a good brother. She said I was not so bad. Maybe she has siblings, real siblings, I really don't know, but she said I was not so bad, meaning I'm pretty good.

And a good brother doesn't work with the fucker who hurt his sister, even for easy money.

Mickey seemed to accept that and left.

I told my sister, hoping she would come back, but she told me again that I was an idiot.

As always, she was right.

The gipsie returned days after, completely drunk. Tommy was alone when he arrived and had no fucking idea what to do with him, so he let him sit in a corner, offering a coffee and he waited for me.

I had no fucking idea what to do with him either.

The big brother wanted to punch him, but the selfish coward wanted to stay in one piece. If I started a fight with him, I had no chance to win, even if he was wasted.

So I just asked him what he wanted.

"There." he said with his awful giberish that I can't understand half the time. "It's far ya sistah."

He gave me letters. A ton of letters, with a name and an adress on them.

My sister's.

She told me about the adress, not about giving her name. I felt bad for reading it, because if she wanted me to know, she would have told me.

All the letters were sent from a different part of the country, and they all came back to Mickey, because according to the postmen, the person had moved.

I had an adress, and it was already useless. She had moved, right after Mickey left.

He told me to read. I didn't want a drunk pikey to be mad at me, so I did.

Mickey was writing better than he was talking. Maybe he was talking better when he was with her. I never asked her if she could understand everything he was saying, but she seemed to.

In all the letters, he was saying more or less the same things, that he was sorry, that he missed her, that he wanted to come back one day.

They didn't just spent a night. They talked about his ma. He liked having someone outside of the camp to talk about her, and about everything else. She talked to him too, about things that I knew, and things I never heard of.

"Sh's mad at me. Got that. But I miss her, ya'know ? Don't care bout maney n baxes. Here far her. Sh's was nace. Her smile, man… Like the sun, n the sky n all that. Can ya tell her ?"

I didn't want to tell her. I wanted him to leave for good, and my sister to come back and be happy again.

But in his eyes I saw what I saw in her eyes when the fucker was back in town. And he was not back to find a job, he was back because he wanted to see her.

Tommy said that it was cute. I told him to fuck off, and I tried to think. Then I decided that I was not good at thinking, and I gave the letters to my sister.

We met in a pub, and she stared at the papers, at her name, for long minutes, before looking at me.

"You read them ?"

"He asked me to. We don't need to talk about that. You don't even have to read this shit, or see him again."

"You could work with him again if I decided to forgive him."

"I don't fucking care, it's not about him or me."

She stared at me again, before taking the letters, going to another table to read them alone. I have no idea how many time it took her, because she didn't move when she was done, and I approached her like an idiot, not knowing if I could sit with her.

The thing in her eyes was back. I didn't like that. But she seemed less sad.

"What should I do, Turkish ?"

"You will do what you want, as always."

"You really can't work with him anymore if I don't forgive him."

"I got that part. I won't be mad."

"And would you be mad… If I decided to forgive him ?"

I hesitated. Maybe a bit, yeah, because this fucker was an ass who almost got us killed, but he was not a bad lad at the end, and he truly seemed to care about her, so I told my sister that it was not important.

"You will do what you want, even if I'm mad."

"Quite true." she said with a huge smile, and I saw what Mickey meant with the sun and all that. She's a true beauty, my sister.

A real menace too.

She went to the camp behind my back, with Tommy. He had no idea what she wanted to do, but when she asked him to drive her, he did, because he may not be her brother, Tommy is acting a lot like one with her. He has two little sis, it's easier for him.

The gipsies all stared at them, mostly at her, as if they were shocked but glad to see her, then they stared at Mickey when he went out of his caravan.

He stared at her, she stared at him, they all stared at each other.

According to Tommy, it was impossible to tell if you should laugh or cry in this tense situation.

Then my sister made the first move, because she always makes the first move.

"You can work for my brother." she said, giving a card with a number to the pikey.

"Thanks lave, 'lready have his phane."

"It's not his."

Everything changed immediately, and Mickey looked at the number as if it was the holy graal, then at my sister as if she was fucking Jesus, his eyes full of light and a big stupid smile appearing on his face.

My sister tried to keep a very serious face, but someone who knew her well could tell that hiding the same stupid expression.

When they were in the car, Tommy told her that it was cute. She told him to fuck off.

He was about to start when her door opened, and then Mickey was in the car too, his hands on her face, and his lips on her lips, and he kissed her during torturous long minutes for poor Tommy who didn't move, until it was necessary to breath for the three of them.

The fucker had an even more stupid smile on his face after that, like he was in heaven.

"Call ya t'night !" he said.

"You better !"

While going back home, Tommy didn't say anything, looking at the road. My sister told him to fuck off.

After that, if people ask me, I tell them that I have a sister and a brother in law. No idea where they live, and what they're doing most of the time, but at least once per week they're coming to my place to sit on my sofa and talk.

I have no fucking idea what he's saying, and I have no fucking idea what she is talking about, but I'm listening, and I see that Mickey is listening with as much interest as me, because he too knows that it means something, and so I think that it's not so bad.

[the-monkey-ruler]

how hardworking is bajie in the novel? fanart gives off the impression that he’d rather do anything but work

And he WOULD! HE DOES NOT LIKE TO WORK! Rather nap and kick back.

But honestly, next to Wukong, he does do the second most amount of work when it comes to fighting demons and getting food.

Don’t get me wrong man will complain the whole time while doing it but he is a competent fighter in many regards. Man was the Marshall in Heaven that only answered to the Jade Emperor himself, a navel officer so he knows a thing or two about fighting and tactics he just doesn't apply himself often. Not since being pig shaped.

There are many times he was the one to fight demons alongside Wukong, sometimes they even coordinate attacks with one another to get the drop on their enemy.

He was able to kill Princess Jade Face, Great King Fox Number Seven, the Wansheng Princess, all six of the tree spirits, White-Faced Vixen Spirit, King of the Southern Hill, King of Heat Protection, and King of Dust Protection. That isn't even included in the assistant kills that helped with Wukong and in enemies such as the Pythron Demon.

Funny enough he gets pretty protective of Sanzang when it comes to him being sexually harassed as well. I like to think that is his own personal turning point when it comes to respecting other people's boundaries.

But also he 'sacrifices' himself for Sanzang's place XD

I've always read it as it's more of a threat than a promise. Because he also knows that women won't go for him being a pig. Which is a little sad but also him using his appearance to his advantage to scare women in the Women's Kingdom. Says he won't be turned into a fragrant bag cause no one would even want him.

The main reason he is so antagonistic is that he IS THE CLOWN. There is a scene Bajie is being cooked by a GAINT streamer and he complaining he is going to come out wrong if the fire tenders (that Wukong is stopping) don't cook him RIGHT. Also that Bajie knows Wukong in diguse by seeing his cheeks and thinking "I KNOW THOSE CHEEKS ANYWHERE!"

Literally, his role in the book is to make laughs and to be the verbal and literal punching bag. Wukong himself is funny, absolutely, but he needs someone to play off him as well. It is very like that one group of Abbott and Costello vibes in some scenes where they just verbally poke on one other, and often there are cases were they pull pranks. Mostly Wukong at Bajie but still.

Like Wukong letting Bajie get captured by an enemy just so he can save him later. HE DOES THIS TWICE. He was mad Bajie thought he died (legit thought he died) in the first one and he took money from Bajie the second time he saved him XD told him it was the 'groups' money and they should share.

And I know people give Bajie hell for being a shit to Wukong but also… Wukong is ALSO a shit back to him. Wukong isn't one to be walked over and he definitely has his fair share of making Bajie feel that revenge for being a shit in the first place. They are shits to each other. Which makes them ever more enjoyable. Wukong is even the one to put a paper saying "I can heal the king" in Bajie’s back pocket when he falls asleep FACING THE WALL NOT TO SCARE ANYONE WITH HIS FACE. Man was legit trying NOT to get into trouble and Wukong knew this was going to be hilarious.

HE WAS PRANKED.

Also Bajie carrying Wukong thinking he could 'trip' and send Wukong flying. But Wukong anticipated this and made a clone of himself to be on Bajie so when he trip the clone drifted away as Bajie and Wujing just looked on in horror as their brother MELTED before their eyes. And Wukong turning into a woodpecker to peck at Bajie to wake him up.

That one was elaborate.

He does have some good ideas even from time to time despite his laziness. He knew how to get Bailong to walk across ice safely and for once USED THE RAKE AS A RAKE to clear a forest. Also that he knows a bit about farming because he was a farmer for a least three years with the Gao family.

So again he is capable and knows a bit despite his ignorance in other matters he just hates to admit he is wrong and hates to admit even more when he can’t do something. Which is hard to do when you are working with someone with MUCH more knowledge and power like Wukong.

I really think that Bajie looks up to Wukong while also being incredibly jealous of Wukong as well. That he relies on him as a companion but lets his own insecurities and jealousy get in the way of working with him, rather purposefully trying to make things harder for Wukong as if to get back at him. But I really think Bajie knows they need Wukong. Even when Wukong is knocked out and unconscious from the Red Boy fight Bajie doesn't believe for a second he is really dead, rather just going straight into reviving him. He also tells others they should treat him with high respect, make it sound like Wukong is danger but also that he is just so powerful in general and that he deserves to be regarded as such.

I don't think it's a coincidence that Bajie is the one after Wukong's first banishment that he has to go get him to save the rest of the group. Because he is the one that messed up by convincing Saznag Wukong was lying. But he also knows they can't do this journey without Wukong. He might be big talk but I think he's going to get Wukong was a humbling moment for him too cause he knows they are going to lose. Another way he shows that is when he thinks Wukong really dies he gets MAD. Because he knows now there is no chance, they are really going to DIE and he is upset.

I still think that Bajie just wanted to get back at Wukong for making fun of him in when GuanYin strung him up to a tree after the Ginseng Fruit arc. But he really didn't know what the fillet implies as he has never seen it used until then. It doesn't make it right but I do think it explains himself a bit more.

And even when Bajie went back to get Wukong, Wukong gave him a tour of his mountain AND STILL pulled a fast on him by having him think he wasn't coming when he was right behind Bajie the whole time. He just wanted Bajie to sweat a little longer. But there was something about Wukong having Bajie see how whole home and what he is leaving but also that Bajie really enjoyed seeing where he lived… even if the Little Suns threw Bajie around like a sake of flour weighing nothing… BUT HE STILL HAD A NICE TIME.

Bajie seems to have a lot of faith in his brothers, even if he rather run away and avoid a fight altogether because he is a bit of a coward he is more often overconfident on taking on demons with his group.

But when he thinks Wukong might actually die after they think they lost Sanzang to a demon he tells him he can't else they will have too much to grieve. And how he only feels confident in battle when he knows Wukong is behind him. I do love it when Bajie and Wujing look on in awe at Wukong and his power he thinks they might be gossiping about him and gets suspicious, leading to another prank.

And I feel like he gets that kind of confidence only later throughout the series, where he actually stops trying to divide the luggage when things go bad and tries to see to the end of the journey to get the scriptures. He is still a lazy guy that rather sleep and eat all day but he gets a bit better along the way, participating with his party in the journey and starting to see the goal to attain the scriptures as something he also wants to and actually trying harder to prove that to himself. It takes him a lot longer than Wukong and even Wujing but I think he really comes around to being a team player.

This kinda turned into a Bajie apologist post but I just really love this pig. He is a lazy asshole that starts shit he needs a good slice of humble pie because he cares a lot

[f0point5]

Why do people get so mad at wags that leave their jobs?

Why do people work? To make money to afford to live and now you have a partner that makes more than you ever would in your life and he’s happy to pay for anything you need….you wouldn’t leave your job?

“What about when they break up?” Guess what? It’s not something you have to worry yourself over. How many of them are genuinely worried for a girl they’ve never known?

Like how are you living your life offended on behalf of a WAG that isn’t worried about it?

Wags aren’t people you have to be fans of, so why are so many almost ripping their hair out over them?

All this.

It’s the same stuff that gets thrown at “stay at home girlfriends” on tiktok…none of you care about their financial stability stfu.

But also, god forbid people want to make their relationships sustainable. F1 drivers have a gruelling travel schedule, and very little free time. It’s hard to make it work if one of you doesn’t have a flexible schedule.

People are up in arms about them not working but - and this is my hot take and I will die on this hill idc I’m literally right - if your boyfriend is make €20m a year and he doesn’t at least offer to support you so you don’t have to work, and so that you can be in a sustainable relationship…he doesn’t like you. Fact. If a man watches you struggle while he’s on that salary…he’s just not that into you. Whether you take the opportunity, that’s personal, and I would t judge someone for their choice either way. But a man making millions and watching you pay rent and budget and shit….I got newssss for you.

Honestly, not a single person is concerned about these womens’ wellbeing or even the drivers’ wellbeing. They just want to say something 🙄

[surrogate-fawn]

Quartz and Sea Glass

((Drabble/Short story based on the backstory a rp with @mittysins of Fawn's first step into the world of surrogacy.))

{This drabble is a sequel to "The First Goodbye" and is Part Two of a planned series based on the rp between Mitty and I. This drabble will not make sense without the context of Part One.}

TW: Mentioned miscarriage/stillbirth, infertility, family abandonment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Don't put me on a pedestal for what I decided to do with my life. I ain't a saint.

I'll fully admit that I became a surrogate for selfish reasons. When I discovered there was a market out there of couples who needed a healthy body to carry their baby, I did not give a single shit about helping them -- all I cared about was the money.

I was twenty years old and homeless, still living off minimum wage. Can 'ya really blame me?

Lord only knows how that little worm of an idea got into my brain. Maybe it was during a mindless re-watch of season four of Friends. Maybe it was seeing something on the news. Or maybe it was during one of those three-in-the-morning anxiety attacks -- the ones that had me scribbling down as many outlandish solutions to my life as could fit on a napkin.

Not a lot of good ideas came about that way.

However it got there, one day I found myself seated at a library computer searching up as much information as I could find about surrogacy. As soon as I saw the rates some of these couples were willing to pay, I was sold. Fifty to sixty grand -- paid over the span of months. That sure as hell beat $7.25 an hour! The fact I could be eligible for certain state benefits on top of that money didn't hurt, either.

Best part? The one obstacle that could've been in my way had been crashed down a year ago: at least one healthy and successful prior pregnancy.

This was it. This was my way out!

But I hesitated.

As I sat there, staring at the Google search results that led me down the rabbit hole, I wondered if I was really capable of going through it all again. Not so much the physical symptoms, those all passed as soon as the pregnancy was over.

I was wondering if I could handle saying goodbye again.

My son's first birthday had just passed. I'd put a candle in a cupcake and blown it out for him the day of, alone in my room and still in my UDF uniform after work. I'd wished I'd known what name they gave him. The "Happy Birthday" song is a 'lil hard to sing without a name. I'd just called him "my baby" in the song. At least it fit. He would always be my baby, wherever he was and whatever he was called.

I blinked at the blue-tinted monitor. The screen was getting fuzzy and my eyes were stinging. I force-closed the dozens of tabs I had open, shut the computer off, and began my walk back to the women's shelter.

No, I couldn't. Money or no money, I couldn't go through it again. I never...never wanted to go through it again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A week later, I made another trip to the library to borrow some time at the computer. I couldn't afford a laptop or smartphone, so it was a trip I usually made every other day; but work had been leaving me too tired to swing by.

I found an email waiting for me in my inbox, from a surrogate agency site I remembered looking up. In my mad scrolling, I must have signed up for their mailing list without thinking about it. It was from the highest-rated site I'd found, so at least I didn't have to worry about it being a phishing scam or tied to some baby black market or whatever.

I almost deleted it out of reflex, but the subject line read: "The Basics of Surrogacy, Free Information Guide". A brochure? Not an ad pressuring me to join so they could start taking a cut of my pay? Sure, I'd take a brochure.

So, that was the moment I made the best decision of my life: I opened that email.

I'll spare you the business side of things, but once I got in touch with the agency it all started falling into place. The whole process was much more voluntary than I realized. I spoke with several surrogate mothers who had been matched with clients through the site, and they all stood firm that nothing was done unless both the surrogate and the parents agreed to it. I would have a say in who I matched with. I would have a say in how much I was to be paid. I would even have a say in what the birthing experience would be like!

What finally sealed the deal for me, though, was the fact this company only dealt with what I learned were called "gestational surrogacies" -- meaning none of their surrogates were the biological parents of the babies they carried. I'd have someone else's egg inside me -- I would essentially be a walking incubator. That sounds kinda weird when you think about it, but it solved the biggest issue I had with tapping into this gold mine.

Not my baby? Not my DNA? Fine by me. I decided I'd gladly get paid fifty grand to sit around and grow someone else's kid. Sounded like the easiest job in the world.

I sent my application in two days later.

Two months, a psychiatric assessment, and dozens of medical tests later, I was in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Tariqs weren't the first couple who asked to meet with me. There were two other couples I had a first meeting with, but neither of them clicked with me the way Ray and Tess did.

We met for the first time at a park situated alongside the Tennessee River, bundled in jackets to keep out the early-autumn chill. There just so happened to be a food truck parked by the entrance we agreed to meet at, and Tess declared we should get to know each other over lunch. Seeing as I had skipped breakfast to make it to work on time, I didn't mind the idea.

I was standing off to the side while the Tariqs ordered from the truck, counting out the amount of cash I had on me, when suddenly I heard Tess call me over.

"Which one 'ya want, shug?" she asked, pointing to the menu plastered on the truck's side.

They bought me a chicken panini and a hot hazelnut macchiato, insisting it was their treat. If it were up to me, I wouldn't have needed the rest of that interview -- I had already chosen to be their surrogate in my head.

Buying me food is a fantastic way to get to get me to like you.

We sat at a picnic table beneath the golden oak trees and got to talking. Raymond (or Ray, as he preferred to be called) was a second-generation Indian immigrant and Tess, his wife, was a born-and-bred Knoxville gal. They lived on the rural side of Knoxville, just barely inside the city limits, in a 1960's farmhouse they'd refurbished themselves. Both were in their mid-thirties by the time they sought out surrogacy; up until that point, they'd been though quite a battle with infertility:

They'd been trying throughout their four years of marriage, but Tess could never carry to term. The few times her pregnancy tests would come up positive, she'd bleed a few weeks later. Although they weren't opposed to modern medicine, they'd preferred to try more "natural" methods to solve their fertility issue before going to a doctor. Such methods included the Kama Sutra, meditation, crystals, herbal blends and -- of course -- prayer.

Just the year prior, it seemed their home remedies had worked when Tess finally made it into the second trimester with a baby boy.

They'd lost him in a stillbirth days before the third trimester milestone.

Piled onto that tragedy, the hospital discovered Tess had a defective uterus -- it was physically impossible for her to carry to term. So, that's where I came in.

As I told them about myself, they were delighted to know I came from a household that had rather New Age ideas about life. I didn't mention that I no longer lived by those ideas -- it would've opened too many questions.

However, I certainly understood the good home remedies could do! I was more than happy to trade my recipes for salves for Ray's tips on where to buy the best beeswax in Knoxville. So happy, in fact, that I got carried away.

"My mom makes beeswax candles," I said, hurrying to swallow the bite of panini I had in my mouth. "She used to scent 'em with oils from her flowers, but the oil would seep right outta the wax once it got warm." I chuckled, feeling my nose crinkle in the embarrassing way it does when I laugh. "Sometimes, at dinner, we'd light one of her candles at the table. We'd blink and suddenly there'd be a puddle of rose oil dripping onto the beans and cornbread!"

"Maybe I can help her out with that," Ray said with a grin. He took a quick sip of his coffee. "My grandparents keep bees over in India. My family has a lot of tips on how to melt and mix the wax."

I almost choked on my food when I realized I'd brought up my family. Shit...now I had to be careful.

"Maybe," I said with a causal shrug. "She's back home in West Viginia with everyone else. It's a little hard to make time to see 'em."

"Oh, I'm sure," Tess nodded. "It's the same with my daddy's side of the family. We're just so far apart we forget 'ta check up on each other as often as we should." She finished off the last of her bagel. "And with you, Fawn, you work full time with a little 'un at home. I'm sure 'ya family understands."

I didn't blink for a while. I just stared at the river until the cold breeze dried my eyes out. "Oh, well..." I cleared my throat, "I don't have a little one at home."

Tess looked confused. Ray looked mortified.

"But it says on 'ya file you were pregnant last year?" Tess half-asked, half-stated. I could tell from her tone that there was no malice in her. She'd clearly read my profile and made assumptions.

I smiled, maybe showing a little too much teeth. "Yeah, I was. Very healthy pregnancy, very healthy baby boy, but I don't have a little one at home."

Ray put his hand over his wife's wrist, his sea glass bracelet quietly clattering on the wooden table. Tess went pale and her look of confusion faded into a silent scream.

"Oh. I'm...I'm sorry," she stammered. "I didn't mean 'ta-."

"No, no! I don't mind bringing him up!" I said, a nervous laugh jittering my lungs. "I never get the chance to talk about my son, but I think about him all the time!"

I surprised myself when the expected sorrow didn't come. Instead, excitement filled its place -- an odd sense of relief that I could let out some of the thoughts that had been haunting me.

I proceeded to word-vomit about how wonderful it was to be pregnant with my son, and how angelic his parents were to me, and how I knew he would be okay -- even if I missed him -- and so forth and so on. I honestly don't think I stopped for breath.

I saw Ray and Tess glance at each other from the corners of their eyes as I rambled, a pair of knowing grins on their faces.

I'm no mind reader, but I think that's when the Tariqs made their final decision.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tess was with me for the embryo transfer, her ring-laden hand resting on my arm as everything was prepped. I was bloated as a water balloon from the multiple fertility drugs I'd been plunging into my veins -- every day, might I add -- for the past month. I sure was hoping those suckers worked, because being in a permanent state of PMS was ass. Total ass.

I reclined on the exam table, legs up in those familiar stirrups and my hips covered by a thin sheet of paper. I inhaled through my nose as the doctor inserted a long, thin tube of plastic through the ring of my cervix -- the end of which was attached to a syringe full of clear fluid. Somewhere in that syringe, three little embryos floated around -- and one of them was hopefully about to nestle into its new home.

I watched the fuzzy grey blurs on the ultrasound screen as the doctor angled the wand to see what he was doing. As I watched each of the three tiny balls leave the tube...I just hoped those fertility drugs didn't work too well.

Tess grinned down at me once it was over, her blonde braid falling over her shoulder. "We got three good un's in there," she said. I noticed she was clutching the quartz pendant around her neck like a string of prayer beads. "I'm sure one of 'em will like 'ya enough 'ta stick around."

I think she was just as worried as I was. Tess's egg retrieval, the test tube fertilization, the freezing, and my daily injections all combined into almost three months of prep work just for this ten-minute procedure.

And if it failed, we'd have to do it all over again. And if that failed, we'd do it again. And again.

"Yeah," I sighed, lowering my legs from the stirrups, "I hope you're right, Tess. 'Cause if not, I swear to God I'm gonna have-."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"A girl!" Tess screeched to the high heavens, throwing herself against Ray in an attack hug. She jumped for joy while hanging from his neck, almost pulling the poor man to the floor. "It's a girl, Ray! We're havin' a girl!"

Ray laughed, backing up from the table so his wife didn't mule kick the ultrasound technician. "I don't know, Fawn," he said, looking my way with a huge smile and a raised eyebrow. "Do you think it's a girl?"

"Not sure," I said, my nose crinkling in a snicker, "but I think Tess said something about it being a girl."

"Shuddup you two," Tess giggled, sniffling as tears began falling down her cheeks.

Ray held his wife's face in his hands and gave her a kiss deep enough to explore the sea floor. The technician and I decided to focus on the ultrasound images to give the couple some privacy.

I craned my neck to look up at the screen. What had been a microscopic ball four months ago was now an apple-sized baby girl with wiggling arms and legs, and -- thank God -- there was only her in there. The other two embryos had never taken, but this rowdy little girl had held tight. I smiled as I watched the rapid flutter of her heart beating, amazed at the sight. I remembered being just as amazed by my son's heartbeat, what few times I'd gotten to see it.

"Look how active she is!" the technician said, pointing to the baby's constant wiggling. "You should be feeling those little dance moves of hers very soon."

Ray and Tess returned to admire the fuzzy images on the screen. Tess was drying her eyes on her sleeves, and Ray's smile may as well have been glowing. He had his arm around Tess's shoulders as they watched the miniature dance party going on inside me. The sea glass bracelet rattled as his hand came to rest over his heart.

"That's our daughter, Tess," he said. His voice broke a bit as he repeated: "That's our daughter."

"Yep," Tess sniffled, hugging her husband's torso and resting her head on his shoulder, "that's her."

I watched them hold each other like that until the technician turned off the wand and wiped the gel from my slightly rounded belly.

The Tariqs had already begun the steady payment plan we'd agreed to. Even after the agency took its cut each month, it was still more than I'd ever made in my life. That had been why I'd agreed to do this for them, after all.

That ultrasound appointment is what changed my outlook on what I was doing.

These two people. These two amazing people, so overcome with joy because I was carrying the baby that they could not.

I wasn't an incubator anymore. I felt more like a nanny, protecting their baby for them until she was strong enough to come out. They'd wanted this baby for so, so long -- and I was the one making that dream of theirs come true.

I knew what it was like to desperately want to hold a baby you were unable to have. I may not have been able to heal my own hurt, but here I was...healing theirs.

I wasn't doing it for the money after that.

I never did it for the money again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Five days after my twenty-first birthday, I woke up to a rather nasty surprise at one in the morning. I'd gotten kicked in the bladder, and my bedsheets and pajama bottoms were damp and sticking to my skin in the humid July air. Fantastic. Not again.

With a groan, I rolled out of bed and started shuffling my way to my door. I held the weight of my belly in my arms as I made my way to the upstairs communal bathroom, hoping to take the pressure off my hips.

I blinked against the harsh florescent light as it sputtered to life over the toilet. With a gruff sigh, I shut and locked the door.

"Suri, you gotta stop doing this," I slurred, my mouth too tired to move. "I'm letting you use my uterus as a bed and breakfast. The least you could do is not try to pop my bladder every night."

Surinder. Her name was Surinder, but we'd been calling her Suri for short. Ray picked it out. He liked it because it was based on the name of a Hindu god and also sounded like the word 'surrender' in English. Tess had fallen in love with the name. Me? I would've just stuck with 'Suri'. I knew exactly what kind of teasing she was in for at school with a name like 'Surinder'.

You can't exactly walk into public school with a name like 'Fawn' and not get laughed into oblivion.

At least the nickname gave her an extra name to fall back on. If that didn't work, she also had her middle name to use: Elora. I would've done the same back in high school -- I did have three to pick from -- but 'Aspen', 'Coriander', and 'Medulla' wouldn't have made the teasing any better.

I'd gone in at age eighteen and erased two of those names. It was just "Fawn Coriander Sequioa" now. Still not a normal name by any means. I often thought about going back into the records and legally changing my last name, just like my parents had done when they'd joined the commune before I was born.

I didn't need my last name. My family didn't want me anymore.

Alexander may have opened up a whole new world for me, but he made sure I burned every bridge behind me as I crossed it. I was already beginning to question my parents' worldview by the time I started dating him, but he took that little spark of doubt -- a spark that, if left alone, would've grown into a steady burn-away of my old ideals -- and fanned those embers into an uncontrollable hatred.

"They're a cult, babe," he'd told me. "Why can't you see that? I can take you away from that bullshit that says you gotta fuck other guys to be happy. I only want what's best for you, and for us."

After months of letting my teenaged angst and frustration boil over, it happened. An argument started between Mom and I over something asinine, and the geyser fucking exploded.

I parroted everything Alexander had been telling me. I told my parents they were nothing but sexual perverts who wanted me to be a whore all my life. I told them how their "woo-woo" medicine got kids killed all over the country, and that blood was on their hands. I told them how much they'd fucked up in raising me.

I told them I hated them.

I told Dad I hoped the next woman who sucked his dick bit it off.

I told Mom that if it was her, I hoped she died choking on it.

The last time I saw Dad, he was throwing everything I owned out of my bedroom window until I was on the sidewalk surrounded by broken furniture and muddy clothes.

The last time I saw Mom, she was sobbing face-down on the couch and refusing to look at me.

Even now, I would be willing sell my soul -- to lay down and die -- just to undo what I did that day.

I didn't give a shit at the time, though. I picked up what I could carry off the front lawn and walked to the nearest payphone to call Alex. I had to tell him I was finally free.

Free.

Right.

What a fucking joke.

I splashed some cold water on my face to wash off the nighttime sweat. Suri rolled one of her feet against the top of my belly, causing a little moving bump that I playfully poked with my finger.

"I'm going to bill you for all those crazy dance parties you're having in there, missy," I said with a grin, a lot less frustrated with her than I was a second ago.

I grabbed a washcloth to start cleaning myself off, but the realization dawned on me and I stopped cold. That was her foot. Her foot was at the top of my belly...which meant her head was angled down...which meant there was no way she'd kicked my bladder.

As I stood at the sink trying to solve that puzzle, I found the missing piece. My belly clamped down hard enough to pitch me forward. I grabbed onto the sides of the sink with a small gasp, feeling the muscles of my torso all tighten and shrink in the direction of my uterus. As it did, a little more dampness spread across my pajama pants.

Oh fuck.

Oh, holy fuck!

I left the bathroom in as much of a jog as I could manage, rushing back into my room and to the brand-new cell phone charging by the window. I had no idea how to save numbers on that thing, so I manually dialed Ray's number. His was the only one I could remember.

The other side of the call rang for a solid thirty seconds before Ray's sleep-drunk voice picked up:

"Hello?" he grumbled. "Who is this?"

Oh, right. He probably didn't have my new number saved, either.

"Ray, it's Fawn," I said, noticing too late that my voice was trembling. "You and Tess need to come pick me up...like right now!"

I heard a rustle on the other end, and suddenly Ray sounded very much awake. "Fawn? Fawn, what's wrong?!" I thought I heard Tess say something nearby, probably on the other side of their bed. "Why do you need us to get you?! Suri isn't due for another two weeks!"

"She...she had other plans," I said, taking a deep breath to steel my nerves. "My water just broke."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ray's face was illuminated by the highway streetlights as he glanced back at Tess and I in the backseat of the car. "How's it going back there?" he asked, flicking his gaze between us and the road.

"Aughh!" I groaned in response as a contraction stole my ability to speak. I tried to lift my hips off the leather seat as more fluid leaked from me, but the seatbelt held me down. I was already sitting in a small puddle of it, and I was worried I was ruining their upholstery. I was still dressed in my pajamas, but I considered them a lost cause.

"We're doin' fine," Tess said, slipping her hand into mine so I could squeeze it -- which I did. "Focus on the road, Ray."

Tess had buckled herself into the middle seat of the minivan, giving her enough room to tend to me while I was strapped in the window seat. I sat with my legs as far apart as the seatbelt would allow. I could already feel the baby pressing through my cervix, and I recognized the pounding pressure that came with it.

The contraction lasted about forty seconds, and it left me reeling and panting. I had no idea when to expect the next one. "Why is this happening so fast?!" I asked, my voice shrill with anxiety. "I was in labor for over a day last time!"

"It's probably not happenin' as fast as 'ya think, doll," Tess assured me, giving my hand a pat. "You could'a slept through most of early labor. Second baby always comes faster than the first, 'ya know."

No. No, I did not know!

"Tessie, how close did the doula say she was?" Ray asked, obeying his wife and not taking his eyes off the road that time.

Tess's face was bathed in white light as she quickly checked her phone. "Ten minutes," she said. "She'll be waiting outside the house when we get there."

Just before she put her phone away, I saw her clutching the quartz pendant again.

Just as promised, the doula was parked outside the Tariqs' farmhouse when we got there. She climbed out of her car as soon as our headlights lit up the gravel driveway. Ray parked the minivan with a lurch and jumped out to start helping her carry things into the house.

Tess helped me out of the car, letting me use her as a crutch as we hobbled up the front steps.

"You ready 'ta do this, Fawn?" she asked.

"Are you ready to do this?" I rebutted.

Tess paused for a second, and then rubbed my lower back as we reached the porch. "Not really," she said, "but no one ever is."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Turns out, I wasn't as deep into active labor as I thought I was. In fact, I'd barely started it. The doula told me I was six centimeters dilated, and that I'd likely been in labor for close to twelve hours at that point.

"No, that's not possible," I protested from my reclined position on the sofa. "I wasn't having contractions until now."

"Trust me, you were," the doula grinned from her place between my knees. She slipped off her blue latex gloves and tossed them in the trash as she stood up. "I'm willing to bet they were just really mild up until you started leaking."

It was a relief to know my water breaking didn't mean I was going to deliver right there and then; but it also sucked knowing I was still in for a long ride.

I spent the rest of that night laboring around the farmhouse. It was so nice to not be stuck in a hospital room that time. I was free to do as I pleased, which Ray and Tess were sure to make clear.

Ray opened a few of the windows to let the sounds of crickets and frogs in, as well as the sweet-smelling breeze of the countryside. Meanwhile, Tess made it her life's mission to make me as cozy as possible -- no matter where I ended up. Thanks to her, pillows followed me from the sofa to the floor, from the floor to the recliner, and then back to the sofa.

Eventually, I got too restless to sit still and I needed to be upright. I was on my feet for the rest of active labor, hanging from the edges of furniture or leaning on either Tess or Ray for support during the contractions. Neither of them minded a bit.

It didn't hurt any less than the first time I went into labor. At times, I was so overcome by the increasing horrible sensations that I began screaming. Each time that happened, either Tess or Ray (whichever I was currently clinging to) would wrap their arms around me and the other would redirect my focus.

"Look at me, doll," Tess said, taking my face in her hands while Ray held me upright.

I was hyperventilating and sobbing my way through a nasty contraction and had forgotten how to use my legs.

"Look at me," she repeated gently. "Focus on my face. See my eyes? My nose? My mouth?" she pointed to each feature as she listed them. "Just think about what'cha see. Think about every detail 'ya can."

It was a technique that sounded stupid on paper, but in practice it was very effective at keeping me grounded. If I counted each of Tess's eyelashes or tried to trace the shape of her mouth in my mind's eye, then I didn't focus on the pain.

I could do it. I knew I could. I'd done this whole song and dance before without painkillers. I could do it again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At ten in the morning, eight hours after arriving at the house, I finally felt the shift that told me I was almost done with this.

I was kneeling on the hardwood floor of the living room, my thighs supported by the shallow birthing stool the doula had brought. Beneath me was an absorbent blue pad. Based on the design of the packaging it was pulled it from, it was supposed to be for potty training puppies. Weird...but if it worked, it worked -- and it was certainly needed. The head was descending quicky, and a few bloody strands of cervical mucus were dripping from me as the last of it gave way.

I'd shed the damp pajamas I came in, but the sweat rolling down my back made me shiver each time an outdoor breeze came through. Tess draped a thin blanket over my shoulders and stayed at my back, her hands never leaving my upper arms as I bowed my head and wailed through a transition contraction.

Ray knelt a few feet in front of me, the doula at his side. He looked a strange mixture of nauseous and excited -- we had decided he would be the one to catch the baby, and the doula was talking him through the process ahead of time. I noticed he was holding a hand to his heart as he listened to her, the sea glass bracelet hanging from his wrist.

We all knew it was about to happen.

When the head finally lodged itself into my birth canal, I said nothing. I just acted. I gripped the front edges of the foot-tall birthing stool and let out a feral growl as I started to push. A chorus of encouragement came from the people around me:

"That's it, doll! C'mon!"

"Go with the urge, Fawn. You've got this!"

"Very good, that's what we like to see."

Having gravity on my side this time made pushing feel much less like a chore. I could feel Suri working her way down each push I gave, and she usually stayed where she was once I let up. Kneeling on the stool seemed to be easing her down exactly where she needed to go.

I let out a yelp -- of surprise more than pain -- as I suddenly felt her head pressing against the skin of my perineum. The pressure opened my lips up like a flower, and the doula shined a flashlight underneath me to confirm her head was visible just inside the bulge of my lips, sitting there ready to crown with the next push.

And holy fuck, did she crown! The burn started the second her scalp met the outside air.

"Oww! God-fucking-damn it!" I white-knuckled the wooden stool, a strangled scream leaving my throat as I felt the head bulge out further, peeling my vagina apart like some demented fruit.

Ray scooted closer, rubbing alcohol up and down his arms in preparation to catch. With the doula watching over his shoulder and aiming a flashlight down so he could see, Ray slipped his hands beneath me. I felt his fingers prodding the skin around the head.

"Just like that, yes," the doula told him. "Help her open, this baby seems to be eager."

"No shit!" I roared, my arms trembling as another push sent the head rushing downward. "Fuck!"

I felt Ray's fingers trace the circumference of his daughter's head as more of it emerged, heard the quiet squelching of the afterbirth coating his fingers. When I no longer had the contraction to help me, I let up. Ray kept trying to massage my vagina open, even as I was trying to rest.

"Stop!" I snapped, and he withdrew.

Tess was hiding behind me, her hands on my shoulders the only reminder she was there. She peeked over my shoulder at her husband during the brief lull in my screaming.

"How far is she out?" she asked, unable to see for herself.

The doula craned her neck. "Almost fully crowned."

"She has so much hair," Ray said with a breathy laugh.

"She does," the doula agreed with a grin. "Her daddy's hair, too. Very dark."

I tilted my head to the side, panting heavily but morbidly curious. "Can...can I feel?" I asked.

The doula took my hand and lead it below my belly. I gasped in awe when I touched the hot, gooey ball of hair sticking out from my body.

"Woah..." I muttered, not sure what to else to say.

My fingertips wandered between my legs for a few seconds, and it was both fascinating and horrifying how my anatomy felt nothing like my own body. Everything was stretched and moved around, and it didn't feel like I was touching anything resembling a human body part -- save for the head sitting where a head shouldn't be. Frightened, I pulled my hand back just in time to bear down against a new contraction.

"Hands out, Ray," the doula gently encouraged. "Here she comes."

I felt Tess press her forehead into my upper back. I think she was feeling faint.

"Ah!" A sharp cry, almost a bark, shot from me as the head reached a full crown for a few terrible seconds. Then, with a wet slip, her whole head came free.

"Holy Mother Gaia..." Ray marveled in a half-whisper. His hands cupped the head hanging under me with the most attentive care in the world.

He didn't have much time to admire the view, I wasn't done pushing. I screamed through closed lips as I felt the ring of flesh just behind my skin get stretched wider than it had ever been. I knew something was wrong as soon as that stabbing, tearing burn began. Suri was two weeks early, but she suddenly felt bigger than my son had been.

"Pull her out!" I begged, remembering what the doctor had done. "Just pull her out!"

"Can't," the doula said. "Her hands are up by her ears, there's nowhere for us to grab."

"Take it slow, Fawn," Ray offered. "I've got her, there's no reason to rush."

I took a few quick pants and rested, hoping the stabbing burn would lessen if I let myself stretch out. It's no wonder it hurt so bad delivering her shoulders, she was making this part more difficult than it needed to be.

Tess's hands lightly squeezed my arms and I felt her hiding her face in the blanket draped over my back. Yeah, she was definitely on the verge of passing out.

Gravity was pulling on Suri even as I was trying to let myself stretch, and the shifting pressure triggered me to push without the aid of a contraction.

"Aughh, Suri come on!" I begged, pushing so hard my vision was going double.

Maybe saying her name was intimidating enough to get her to move, because with that push I felt her arms pop free. Ray gasped, and I felt his hands shift to support her upper body as the rest of her slipped out of me. I heard fluid splash and splatter onto the puppy pad, and just a second later, Ray lifted a small blue baby up from under me.

"Get her breathing," the doula urgently instructed. "Turn her over and rub her back. Support her head."

Ray obeyed, gently flipping Suri over on his lap and rubbing his large hand over her back. Her head hung disturbingly limp on her neck as he jostled her around, but I knew that's what it was supposed to be like. It still looked scary.

Suri splayed her arms out, as if she's been surprised, and let out a gurgling wail as her first breath.

"There she is," Ray sighed with releif, turning her back over to hold her in his arms. The doula whipped out a small towel and draped it over her body to keep her warm.

Tess came back to life and rushed to be beside her husband the instant she heard the baby cry. The moment she saw Suri in her daddy's hands, she dropped to her knees and covered her mouth. Her eyes spilled over, tears flowing down her cheeks.

"Oh, Ray!" she cried, her voice shaky and breaking. She reached out and pet her daughter's wet mop of black hair. "Ray, she's beautiful!"

Ray couldn't answer, he was too choked on tears of his own. Both parents held their daughter between their bodies, too joyful for words to express. Their tears and shared kisses told the story, though.

As for me, I wasn't too sure what to make of the situation. She was out, she was healthy, and her parents would be taking it from here. My job was done; but it did feel a bit...abrupt.

"Fawn," Tess turned to me, uselessly trying to dry her eyes, "do you want to hold her?"

I didn't think, I just spoke: "Yes. I've never held a baby before."

Ray and Tess lifted Suri up to me. Ray adjusted my hold so I could support the places that needed it, and Tess made sure the bloodied towel was in place so Suri wouldn't get cold. Within seconds, there I was with a minute-old baby in my arms, sitting against my bare chest.

I stared down silently at the tiny person who had been living inside me the last nine months. She was screaming her head off, but her lungs were sounding clearer each time her mouth opened. Her pink, toothless gums reminded me of a fish's mouth.

"Hey, Suri," I said, my voice sounding far away. "Must feel better out here, huh?" Suri wailed again, unhappily flailing her arms and legs around. "Or not."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I rested on the sofa, extra puppy pads beneath me, as the doula and the parents did the 'lotus ceremony' on the other side of the room. I'd had to sit on that stool for an extra twenty minutes until the placenta passed -- Ray and Tess wanted to have a lotus birth, where the cord was burned through only after the afterbirth was delivered.

I didn't want to know what they planned to do with the placenta itself.

Ray had offered to drive back to the women's shelter later that day to grab my duffel bag for me. In my panic, I'd completely forgotten the overnight bag I'd packed. So, for the time being, I was naked and covered only by the thin blanket Tess had given me.

The lotus ceremony finished up, and Ray and Tess pulled up some chairs to sit beside me. Tess had gone topless and had laid a sleeping Suri carefully across her chest, doing skin-to-skin so they could establish the proper mother-baby bond. Her eyes were red and raw, and fresh tears were falling from them.

"Fawn," she began, "you'll never know how much this means 'ta us."

"You're welcome," I said, offering the couple a tired smile. "She was a rowdy tenant, but I'd gladly do it again to give you guys the family you want. You'll be an amazing mom, Tess."

Tess let out a small sob that turned into a chuckle. "Thank 'ya."

Ray rubbed his wife's back, his own fresh tears falling. "We have something very special to give you, Fawn. It's...the closest thing we have to fully repaying you."

Tess nodded. "Money ain't enough. It would never be enough."

In sync, both couples removed the pieces of jewelry I'd never seen them without: Tess, her quartz pendant; Ray, his sea glass bracelet. Without a word, both new parents bestowed the items on me as if it were a coronation. Tess slipped the pendant around my neck and flipped my hair out from under the chain it hung on. Ray carefully slid the band of clattering sea-green beads over my hand until it came to rest softly on my wrist.

I looked at the new gifts with a grateful smile. "Something to remember you guys by?"

The couple gave each other one of their classic knowing grins.

"No," Tess said. "We chose these items months ago. They were always intended for who our surrogate would be."

I tilted my head to the side like a confused dog -- I guess the puppy pads were appropriate after all. "What?"

"From the day we met you, we've been praying over them," Ray explained, repeating the hand-over-heart motion I'd frequently seen him do with the hand that had worn the bracelet. "Each milestone we reached, we made sure our joy in the moment was stored in the crystals."

"Quartz is best to channel the energy of a mother, for Mother Gaia," Tess explained. "Glass shaped by the sea is best for a father's energy, for all life was fathered by the sea."

We were silent for a while, just staring at each other. The only sound was the soft cooing Surinder made in her sleep.

"We want you 'ta be a part of this family, Fawn," Tess said. "We've put a part of our essence into these crystals. Our joy, our love, our gratitude. So, whenever 'ya wear 'em, we'll be with 'ya."

Now I was crying. I opened my jaw to say something, but nothing came.

"We've talked about it, and..." Ray said with a smile. "...if you would like to, we'd be more than happy to have you stay here with us until you get back on your feet."

"Livin' out here has been much less of a headache than in the city," Tess continued. "We could help you find a nice 'lil place of your own sometime soon, a home where you can make a life for 'yaself."

There was another pause. I let tears fall silently down my bewildered face.

"You don't talk much about 'ya family," Tess said. "You don't owe us no explanation, but...Ray and I figured...you might need someone in 'ya corner."

That was it. That was the killing blow.

I jumped forward and threw my arms over Ray, collapsing into sobs I hadn't experienced in months. I would've grabbed both of them, but Tess had the baby. I didn't actually say anything to them, but I think they got the message.

Maybe there was something to those New Age ideas of theirs. As I sat there sobbing, I swear I could feel the warmth of Tess and Ray's love seeping into my skin through those minerals.

It seeped through my blood and sinew, and even though bone. It settled into the bleeding wound in my soul that refused to heal, the one that had been torn open the first time I called my family after the fallout:

My own mother, the one who promised to love me no matter what life threw, plunged the knife in and twisted it. The last words she ever spoke to me...were a threat to kill me if I ever tried to come back home.

The warmth of Ray and Tess's gift poured into that wound like warm honey -- not healing it, but soothing it for the first time in three years.

Maybe I was overthinking it. Maybe the heat in the jewelry was just from their body heat.

But I was sure about one thing:

I wasn't alone anymore.

~ END ~

[rorywritesjunk]

(set in the au with Buggy's older sister, takes place after the little ficlets of the 24 hours since the execution. I'm also decompressing from the last few days at work and needed some fluff for these two.)

pt 1 + pt 2 + pt 3 + pt 4 + pt 5 + pt 6 + pt 7 + pt 8 + pt 9 + pt 10 + pt 11 + pt 12 + pt 13 + pt 13.5 + pt 14 + pt 15

pt 1

"Wait, we're stopping where so you can meet with who exactly?" Buggy demands from the captain after he was just told what was going on. The older man laughed, clapping Buggy on the shoulder. He shrugged the hand off with a glare. He was only on this crew until he earned enough to get his own. No one needed to touch him.

"I have to see Miss Pins about my pants. They aren't fitting the way I'd like them to." The old man told him with a chuckle. "We're stopping for a week. The island is a pirate safe haven so you don't need to be scared, young man!"

"I'm not scared!" Buggy shot back, but he was a little nervous. Sunny worked for Miss Pins, or at least she did when they met and she took care of him. If he goes with the captain to the shop, will she be there? Will she even remember him or were those just kind words she was saying to him with no meaning behind it? He didn't know if he wanted to see her. He wasn't a well known and flashy pirate yet, he was just a crew member.

"You can come along if you'd like, Buggy!"

Buggy didn't know if he wanted to, but he nodded, clenching his fists, suddenly feeling anxious about seeing Sunny again. It had only been a few months but he still thought of her regularly, of her kindness to him when he was a mess of emotions after losing the important people in his life all in one day.

And she didn't ask for anything in return from him.

~

It took a few days to arrive. The crew was happy to get off the ship and stretch their legs for a week. Buggy was waiting for the captain to take him to the shop. He had taken the time to wash his face, brush his teeth, and brush his hair before throwing it back into a pony tail. He wanted to look good for Sunny, to show he could take care of himself and he was doing better.

The captain finally came out of his quarters, the pants he needed fixing draped over his arm. He beckoned Buggy to follow him and the teenager did, walking alongside the captain as he pointed out shops, pubs, and other things to Buggy should he need anything while they were there.

Once they arrived at the shop, Buggy took a moment to look at it. There were flowers in the window boxes, the front was painted a light purple color, and it just... Didn't really fit into what he expected in a place known for a pirate safe haven. He felt this shop would do better in a town where people had money and wanted to see cutesy things.

That feeling vanished the moment his Captain opened the door and someone came barreling out. A bullet followed after the pirate, piercing through the top of his hat as he screamed he was sorry as he ran.

"Ah, yes, don't make her mad. She has good aim." Was his captain's warning to Buggy as they stepped into the shop.

There was an older woman standing in the middle of the shop with a shotgun with two young women sitting at a table sewing while another stood behind her.

"Damn pirates, thinking this is a brothel." The old woman muttered as she went to put the gun away. "Next time I'll shoot him in the ass." She looked up at Buggy and the captain, giving them both a look over. "What can I do for you?"

"Miss Pins, I was hoping-"

"Buggy?!" The girl who had been behind Miss Pins rushed forward suddenly, throwing her arms around Buggy. "It's you! You're here!"

He couldn't believe he didn't recognize her at first. Buggy's torso and arms detached from the impact from her hug before snapping back together and wrapping his arms around her. She was very touchy, had her hands on him frequently when they first met, checking in with him and making sure he was okay. It... Was a little weird at first but Buggy found he didn't mind it from her.

Now he had her in his arms. She was hugging him like they were lifelong friends and it had been ages since they last saw each other.

When she pulled back, smiling brightly at him, she glanced over at her boss as she took Buggy's hand in hers. "I'm going to take my break, Miss Pins!"

Her boss looked at Buggy, reaching for her gun once more. "If you must."

Remembering what he just saw moments ago, Buggy was fine with Sunny dragging him out of the shop and into the sunshine. He didn't quite know what to expect but honestly, he was just happy to see her again.

[purpleandstarlight]

Some time ago I said I would make a post about my opinion on various of the kuro characters' stance on the LGBTQA+ community so here It comes i guess. Gonna be a pretty long post I suppose.

Starting off with what may be a hot take: o!Ciel ain't homophobic or transphobic or anything. Yana may write him like that, but I feel like that's her problem and not his. It makes basically no sense with his character. He's just a dude trying to live his life and he canonically doesn't judge people for going against what society thinks should be the "norm" (His speech defending Snake in the Campania arc, to name one instance). He HIMSELF doesn't really follow the "norm" of a noble of that time period (Treats his human servants (so not Sebastian) like actual human beings and even family, doesn't seem to go to church or leave his house for fun much, hates socializing and going to parties). I personally even read him as aroace!

Plus he canonically read (or was at least knowledgeable about) Carmilla, wich I never read but from what I hear was gay Dracula before Dracula was invented.

That said, in modern era he WOULD make gay funtom merchandise for pride month only for the profit and not to stand by the gays. Not because he's homophobic, he just doesn't care about being so public in his support for the community if not for that sweet, sweet money. Tiny capitalist child. Awful little man.

Now, if you want to blame a Phantomhive for being homophobic...that's R!Ciel. An actually alive, not bizarre doll R!Ciel could be convinced of the LGBTQA+ community not being bad IF (and only if) his brother was a part of it and o!Ciel slowly educated him on what not to say or think. Like not even the knowledge that his father is the most bisexual person alive would convince him, he'd just live in denial. But we know that o!Ciel is sacred for him. "If brother says this, then it's the truth."

Bizarre doll R!Ciel is like those mums that go "I'm fine with gay people I just think that [insert extremely homophobic statement here]". He also says stuff like "The A in the LGBTQA+ community stands for Ally :)"

Lizzie is very nice and openly supportive, but WILL get sometimes flustered in front of two gay people being gay. She will also sometimes stumble and say something bad by mistake, but she immediately corrects her behavior as soon as she's explained that what she said wasn't right.

Tanaka? Complete Ally. No boomer behavior from the Grandpa ever.

Mei Rin? Ally. She is also a total lesbian who just hasn't come to terms with it yet, though. So for now she just says she's an Ally and moves on.

Finny is also an Ally who just doesn't get he's part of the community yet. He's aroace and doesn't know it.

Bard says he's an Ally, but the fact is that the only gay person he doesn't support is himself. Had his bi awakening after working with Sebastian at the Manor but denies it to himself like o!Ciel denies himself love and happiness.

Speaking of Sebastian, he's a very homophobic gay being. Not with himself. He knows he ain't straight and isn't upset about it. But if another person drops hints that they are, he's mad about it and WONT support them. Unless it's Agni. If it's Agni, he's EXTREMELY happy about it...

Agni is either Bi or a complete Ally.

Soma is the token straight friend. He's a complete Ally tho. Doesn't even hesitate. "Oh you're into men? That's cool! I'm into curry :)"

William is aroace and okay with that but he's also homophobic and transphobic.

Ronald is either Bi or another "token straight, ally friend"

Bonus: more sexuality headcanons!

Undertaker gives me big homosexual vibes but I also believe in the theory that him and Claudia had a thing, so I'll say pan.

Sieglinde is a lesbian. Had her first girl crush on Lizzie.

Grelle is obviously and canonically a trans woman and proud but imo she STILL needs to understand that men aren't her thing. Women are. She's in denial.

Also headcanon that in a modern era she would fucking hate the trans flag colours bc there's no deep red in it wich means she doesn't know how to incorporate it with her aesthetic.

Othello is ace. Idk if he's aro too or at least into women, but he's ace.

Alois is only into guys but also ace. @weeb-cheese showed me the light when they said he looked aroace to them. I can't completely buy the aro part but i am 100% sold on him being ace.

[tryingtimi]

73

The Dragon In The Parking Lot: Snip

Madness by Muse. Oh, hell yeah, it's a Sasin song. The magical mafia WIP I haven't introduced here yet, lmao. But I've already started a side story for it. What a mess. Anyway, I'll insert that little thing I wrote for the side story with a tiny context.

Context: Taeri and Taeron are the infamous shapeshifter twins of one of the biggest mafia organisation in Naksan. They're the best among the best.

SASIN SIDE STORY | DYNAMIC EXPLORATION | WC: 897

Taeron never seemed to get used to seeing his own face on his sister. 

He watched her stand beside the side of the grocery store, her — the hands that were the exact same as Taeron’s, buried deep in the sleeves of the hoodie she borrowed. She fidgeted with the edge, shoulders slumped, her face turning around every few seconds as if she was in trouble. As if she wanted to hide and disappear. 

Taeron pushed his tongue to the side of his mouth. He rolled back his shoulders instinctively, straightening his back. 

They were waiting here for a while now, and however warm it was in the car, Taeron knew Taeri was probably freezing. Her hand reached into her pocket, and she fished out her phone. 

Taeron’s own dinged at the same time he saw her fingers move.

Where is this bitch?

He could understand her annoyance, and he smiled at the thought of how strange others would have felt seeing the person she was acting as, then realise her true nature. He quickly typed a reply, offering some very brief comfort. 

Taeri was a professional, just like Taeron himself, therefore she never broke character on a mission. And still, after inspecting her phone, she stared at it for a moment longer and turned to Taeron’s direction, looking right at him. Then, she pulled out a cigarette. 

To Taeron’s dismay, he couldn’t stop her. The target did not know them, and so she wouldn’t be able to tell if the person before her was supposed to smoke or not. Yet, Taeron pursed his lips, and not just because his favorite piece of clothing was about to get smelly of tar.

With a sigh, he turned his attention back to his computer. 

The screens were sliced into four, each part showing the security cameras of the grocery store. Taeron barely broke a sweat to hack them, which wasn’t really a surprise. The Huin District wasn’t the most secure part of Naksan, and so why would they bother with a nearly abandoned liquor store on the edge of it. Only the general requirement of keeping the sad thing open was the reason why it had any camera at all. At least, that’s what Taeron’s guess would have been. 

He kept his eyes on the screen, reading through personal informations again, but he never let his peripheral focus lose Taeri beside the store.

After what seemed to be half an hour, the target finally arrived. 

There always was a fine line between what he expected and what the people who hired them actually looked like. The woman’s blazer barely stayed over that plump belly of hers, which reached the opposite effect than looking professional — what Taeron assumed she went for. Of course, it wasn’t his place to say anything; money was money. 

Taeri glanced at her with what he assumed was a wary expression, since the woman seemed to lower her guard just a little. They weren't as far from his car, but even his glasses couldn’t help him make out all the details. 

So, he turned back to the cameras, and zoomed on the one that looked outside; right where the two women met. 

Taeri started to speak, and pushed up Taeron’s glasses on her nose during that, more times than it was comfortable to admit. He was aware of his nervous movements, he needed to be, yet seeing his sister play it out was annoying. No matter how many times he saw it before. 

The cameras did not record sounds, but Taeron had not a single shard of doubt that she could handle the situation. And for how the target slowly relaxed completely, then handed a considerably thick package to Taeri without hesitation, his faith was not in vain. Especially as he saw the target adding something more to the package before handing it over.

Taeri stared at the package for a moment, then with a straight face, she drowned it into her pocket. One more glass adjusting, and she was on her way to the car, right after a very respectful bow. The woman lingered in one place for a second, looking after her. Taeron could make out almost some kind of satisfaction on her face, before she finally walked away. 

Taeri yanked the car door open before she hopped in. 

“What a cunt,” she exclaimed in Taeron’s voice. “She was thirsting over me like a schoolgirl. But, I guess this is just your effect on older women, brother.” 

It was a disturbingly strange thing to see her smirking while still wearing his face. 

“You’re disgusting.” 

“Oh, come on. They love you.”

Taeron gave her a glare from under his lenses. 

“They love you flirting with them while wearing my face.” He pushed his glasses back. “Which, you should stop doing.”

Her smirk deepened, while she fished out the package from her pocket, and ripped it open. 

“And lose the little extra they add to the price? Hell no,” she said before she started counting. Yet, her face slowly distorted, and a faint outline of blue scales ran through her as Taeron’s features were replaced with more mild ones. Her form shrank, shoulders pulling back, sides curving and her hair growing out. In a blink of an eye, she was wearing her own skin again, finally. 

Taeron’s hoodie clung on her like a potato sack.