#and also if my stomach issues would go away that would be great!

[symbiotic-slime]

I wish my body would stop self-sabotaging for once

[shikai-the-storyteller]

I adore Luzu, so it really warms my heart that when he was mentioned today when Phil was asking about La Velada, not only did PHIL get super excited and emphasize his support for Luzu, but Chat also got excited and hyped him up. All us crows love him so much, even though we only saw him interact with Phil once :') I hope that now his training is over, he can log back in and they can hang out again

[neverendingford]

.

[gallusrostromegalus]

The Van Has Officially Declared It Spooky Season

---

I've got my parent's van for the week and it seems determined to establish my status as The Local Cryptid by terrorizing an innocent 7-11 clerk.

...I might need to back up a bit.

My mother is an eminently sensible woman who knows herself well, and when The Plauge hit, she knew she'd need some sort of mentally and physically engaging craft project to keep herself from going insane and massacring the local zoning and water management boards (even if they have it coming). So she and Dad acquired a utility van and converted it into a camper van because while they love camping, they're past the age where their joints and immune systems will tolerate sleeping on the cold ground in a nylon tent.

They did a terrific job of it and my mom taught herself woodworking and carpentry and now the van has it's own cabinets, fold-away dining table, and removable queen-sized bed with memory foam mattress. My Dad was already a computer engineer, but he learned the dark magics of automotive software and electronics to install after-market backup cameras, a media player that would take a terabyte hard drive and a solar-powered battery and outlet so they could wake up and just turn on the kettle and griddle for breakfast without having to exit the van into a cold morning on an empty stomach.

Truly, the height of Camping Luxury.

My parents are both in their mid-seventies and my primary life goal is to be at least half as cool and hale as they are when I get old.

Anyway, they take it out at least a dozen times a year and it works fabulously, but, being as I am on good terms with my parents and also finishing the process of moving house, I've been borrowing it to move large and cumbersome objects that will not fit in the back of my equally lovely but minuscule Honda hatchback.

It's a Great Van. Very easy and comfortable to drive. Stunningly good MPG for it's size. The best cruise control I've ever had in a car.

It's just also. Quirky. Mischievous, even.

---

If this van has a fault its that it bears the unfortunate affliction that all lightly used white utility vans have in that the combination of an utter lack of branding features and the large dent/scrape I accidentally put on it while trying to escape a Denny's last Thanksgiving means that this vehicle is one addition of a Badly Spray-Painted "FREE CANDY" on the side away from being the sort of vehicle you see in an edgy horror movie.

It's got the same issue that Doberman Dogs have where they look like the sort of creature that likes to snack on toddler's faces whilst actually having personalities made of marshmallow fluff. This vehicle is unnecessarily menacing and I think nothing short of an airbrushed Epic Van Wizard will correct this. People see this van pull up and lean over and squint suspiciously at me when the driver's side door opens, and then look moderately confused when, instead of Charles Manson, a small, potato-shaped creature with neon purple hair and a statistically unlikely assortment of dogs emerges.

My own two dogs, Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin/Corgi and Charleston Chew The Taco Dumpster Dog, Do Not Like The Van. Even with the bed in it, they have a tendency to slide and roll around in the back, and both WILL chew through dog saftey belts or other attempts to secure them in there.

On the other hand, my house mate's dog, an exceptionally tall standard poodle whom we lovingly call "The Creature", loves the Van because SHE wears her doggy seat-belt with only mild complaining and gets to sit up in the passenger seat like A People.

Also like A People, The Creature likes to stand and walk around on her hind legs. It doesn't hurt her and it's entirely voluntary, but every so often I will feel a hand on my arm and instead of my husband or friend, it's a canine that's taller than I am on her hind legs who wants to stare at my face with soulful, concerned eyes. The Creature's favorite thing is that she is exactly the right height for me to hold her arm in Genteel Fashion and walk around the pet food or hardware store with her like I'm a count escorting a debutante around a royal ball.

---

As it stands, I am set to inherit this vehicle whenever my Honda gives up the ghost, and I fully intend to paint an Epic Van Wizard on it when that time comes.

The other peculiarity of The Van is that while Dad did manage to successfully install all his after-market electronics, not all the electronics get along. Sometimes, they fight for Dominance. The Terabyte Music Player and the Backup Camera have a particularly contentious relationship, and turning on the music has about a 25% chance of turning on the backup camera as well, and turning on the Backup Camera is equally likely to turn on the music.

Firthermore, The Van has a favorite song.

I am not kidding that Dad filled an entire terabyte hard drive with music and the software to sort it via the radio controls, but of all the Early Boomer Dad Rock (Kingston Trio over The Eagles) and Irish Folk and Symphonies and the entire discography of Weird Al Yankovic, The Van's favorite song- The one it picks to play as victory music every time it beats the Backup Camera at their weird electronic game of rock-paper-scissors -is The Liberty Bell March by John Phillip Sousa.

You all know this song already.

...but in case you've forgotten the tune:

Yeah.

The Van's favorite song is the goddamn Monty Python's Flying Circus Theme Music.

It does not play this song at a normal volume.

Every time I turn on the Backup Camera and it manages to turn the music player on as well, The Van insists on absolutely blasting this nonsense on at the maximum volume it's physically capable of producing, which I know is loud enough to be heard from the Denver International Airport's Pickup zone when they Van decided to start playing it from the economy lot about half a mile away.

Perhaps it's The Van's way of honoring the aesthetic sensibilities and sonic enthusiasm of Mr. Sousa.

...I can't help but wonder if the purpose of an Epic Van Wizard is to control this sort of faerie-like malarkey, and channel these chaotic energies into things like Spell of Don't Break Down In Nevada or Enchantment Of Always Have Good Parking.

---

So last Friday the 13th, I get a call from my friend and housemate, at said airport.

It's roughly 11PM at night, and I have already retired for the evening. I am in the exact minimum of clothing required to be a decent housemate and not scandalize the neighbors should I happen to walk by a window. My feet are up. There is a cat in my lap and fictional British people murdering each other in highly inventive fashion on the tv. -But my friend has returned from her friend's wedding,and either American or United Airlines has managed to lose her luggage, including, among other valuable possessions, the keys to her car. ...So she cannot just drive home as originally planned.

There are, as luck would have it, her spare set of keys not eight feet from me.

Being a good and decent person, I agree to bring the spare keys to her so she may get home before daybreak and not spend a semester's worth of tuition on an uber across the greater Denver traffic jam.

Being also that she Loves Activities, and it's her mom we're going to pick up, I elect to take along The Creature.

I am primarily focused on remembering how to get to the airport and not leaving my friend's spare keys on the counter, so I throw on a pair of flip-flops, step outside, remember that it's AUTUMN and my minimal evening attire is not sufficient thermal protection, step back in, grab the first coat in the closet I lay hands on, pull it on, check that I have her keys again and leave.

The trip to the airport is largely unremarkable, save that it becomes necessary for me to put on sunglasses to drive, despite it being nearly the witching hour and almost entirely darker than the inside of a cow.

It's necessary because this blissful darkness of night is violently punctured by a startling number of cars that seem to have installed miniaturized but no less powerful lighthouse bulbs in where their headlights ought to go so the oncoming traffic and sports cars that insist on tailgating me in the slow lane alike illuminate the road and my mirrors with the kind of radiance I'd normally associate with the arrival of a Seraphim.

I arrive at the distant highly discounted airport car lot where my housemate is waiting, deeply apologetic. It's nothing. I say. Once I see that your car starts up, I'm gonna go to that 7-11 across the way that I parked in front of, get a slurpee or something and I'll see you at home.

While she is retrieving her vehicle (an equally eccentric but much more stately Subaru that is old enough to be elected to congress) I rifle through the loose change in the glove box and discover that I have exactly $6.66 in small bills and coins. The Subaru, continuing it's long voyage into vehicular immortality, immediately starts up.

Upon her return, we all remember that my friend had all her camping gear in the backseat of the car and there is no room for The Creature to ride home with her parent, so I again assure her it's nothing, and will just take The Creature into the 7-11 with me. She is trained as a service animal and needs the practice after the plague.

I wave my friend off and turn to enter the 7-11.

I promptly trip over the jutting back bumper of The Van and fall, cartoonishly, face-first onto the sidewalk.

Fortunately, I have a lot of practice falling on my face, and have learned not to throw my hands out but instead cover my face, so my unexpected self-inflicted attempted curb-stomping lightly scrapes my hairline and nothing else -my sunglasses even stay in place- and I get up and resume my quest for a slurpee.

It's well known that the airport is a lawless place, and the 7-11 across from the discounted airport parking at the stroke of midnight is no exception.

I know it's the stroke of Midnight because there's one of those Audubon society bird-call clocks that makes bird noises, and my arrival is heralded by the twittering call of a Summer Tanager. I am almost charmed enough by the unusual choice of chronological device to excuse the exorbitant Airport-adjacent mark-up of Slurpee prices. I stand at the machine for some time, trying to decide on a size for the price and guess what the fuck "Blue Lighting Blast" is supposed to taste like.

The Creature is being Very Polite but is somewhat agitated, I assume because she *just* saw her mother for the first time in three days and then she LEFT with no explanation, so The Creature is on her hind legs, staring woefully into my eyes, asking to be escorted around the 7-11. Even though that's not what she's not supposed to be doing, there's nobody else in here, so I let her hang off my arm and discuss various Slurpee Flavor options with her.

We eventually decide on an experiment in which I try a Small Blue Lightning Blast, and discover it tastes a bit like licking a nintendo cartridge but in a pleasantly satisfying way.

I go up to pay and realize something is amiss.

The Cashier is a young man staring at me with wide eyes, one had over the register and the other wrapped up in his rosary.

I look down at myself.

In my haste to reunite my friend with her spare keys and service animal, I had left the house in the following accoutrements:

Flip Flops. Not matching. It's below freezing outside. That last part is not particularly odd footwear for the weather in for Colorado, but it's an important detail for the rest of the ensemble.

Assorted scrapes, bruises, cuts and welts on my arms and legs that come with doing outdoor work and living in a house with three dogs and a fully-clawed cat that all want to be in my lap all the time. It's cold out, so vasoconstriction has pulled the blood away from my skin, a trait that served my ancestors well during the last Ice Age, but leaves me with pale skin to contrast the various wounds and I look like a corpse that fell out of the back of a pickup truck.

The black Bootyshorts with "CRYPTID" painted in bright red gothic font across my ass, that @theshitpostcalligrapher gave me for my wedding present.

A peculiar but extremely comfortable garment that straddles the line between "Lacy Camisole" and "Industrial-Strength Sports Bra" like the Ever Given straddling the Suez Canal. It is also Bright Red. with black accents.

The Jacket I had grabbed out of the closet, which is in fact, a black Velour Dinner Jacket.

The Tokyo-Ghoul inspired reusable anti-covid mask a friend made me with the set of Coyote Teeth.

My sunglasses, which are shaped like a Halloween Bat. The lenses are the wings and the body is the nose bridge. It is ALSO bright red.

A Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle that I have been audibly affectionately calling "Dear Creature" who is hanging off my arm like she's my Prom Date.

The Very Large and remarkably Humanoid Poodle is ALSO dressed up in a black Dog Sweater that has white bones printed on it to look like its an X-ray jacket showing off her skeleton.

I look like I am taking my Very Fancy Werewolf Girlfriend to a particularly casual Dinner Party for Vampires, but the thing that's really selling it and probably alarming the kid the most is the fun accessory I acquired in the parking lot not five minutes earlier:

The "Small Scrape At my Hairline" is actually a painless but PROFUSELY bleeding head wound that I had somehow entirely failed to notice covering my face, neck, decolletage and magnificent cleavage with blood like a Tarantino Film Extra.

This does explain why The Creature has been delicately trying to use her bodyweight to push me down onto the floor for the last ten minutes. So I don't injure myself while we wait for the paramedics she hoped this kid called to arrive, you see.

The Creature has such a High and Naive Opinion of humanity.

I decide this social situation is already fucked, and the only way out is through, and with haste, before I start dripping on the floor.

"Hi there!" I say cheerfully, to indicate this is a visually alarming but not terribly serious situation. "Just a Small Slurpee!"

The Cashier has entered the relevant code into the register before I finish the sentence. His gaze flicks off me just long enough to look at the total, and he grips his Rosary harder.

$6.66

"Oh cool! I have exact change!" I say, taking the money out of my as-yet-unsanguined pocket without looking and slap it down on the counter. "You have a good night and be safe out there!" I wave, leaving.

I get in The Van, mortified, buckle The Creature up, and as I make to leave, I have to put it in reverse, which automatically turns on the backup Camera.

It also turns on the music player.

I make eye contact with the cashier as the dulcet tones of John Phillip Sousa boom from the van hard enough to make the windshield and the windows of the 7-11 rattle for the nine-and-a-half seconds I have to wait to be able to turn the volume back down. Not knowing what else to to, I give him a thumbs up, and leave.

Anyway, now I know what my Future Van Wizard has got to be dressed like, and what their familiar is.

---

If you enjoyed this story, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Funny Stories book on Patreon

[onmykneesformatt]

🍒cherry candy🍒 -m.s.

synopsis: one of your biggest insecurities is matt’s favorite thing in the entire world. so what happens when you go on a shopping spree?

warnings: SMUT, softdom!matt, fem!reader, no use of y/n, semi-public sex, PRAISING OH MY LORDDDTT, unprotected p in v (safe sex is great sex, betta wear a latex), boob play for DAYS, mentions of body dysmorphia, i don’t think anything else???

a/n: this is a lil slow but i'm hoping y'all like it anyways >-<. y’all were HEAVY on the tittyguy!matt shit, so i decided to treat y’all and give y’all a fic😛🍒🌺 ENJOY SLUTS!!🍒🎀🌺

“let’s start at target! they have those billie eilish shirts for her newest album!”

you giggled like a little girl, practically skipping into the target while holding matt’s pinky.

“alright, your choice.” he smiled, happy that you’re finally getting out of the house more.

you’ve been staying inside for the past couple weeks.

he picked up on signs that it was about something someone might’ve said at your family reunion. he loved your body, and he thought anyone who didn’t was insane.

you admitted to him after the first week straight of not having sex or even being half-naked around him while getting dressed everyday.

-

“what’s up with you? you used to love putting on fashion shows every morning while changing, but you haven’t for, what? two weeks now? it’s so cute, and i love it. what’s wrong?”

“it’s nothing.”

“it’s something.”

he stood up from the edge of the bed to stand in toe-to-toe with you, your back almost touching the closet door.

“uhm.. i-“

“you can tell me, pretty girl. i wont judge you.”

“mhm, okay. well, do you remember my dads side of the family?”

“oh, god.”

he scoffed, knowing what you were about to say.

“well, at the family reunion, they wouldn’t stop bringing up how i was looking ‘more exposed’ than a college girl should, and kept staring at my boobs. i didn’t take any of it to heart at first, but then my cousins started whispering to eachother. i mean, i get it, i might’ve gained some weight since the last reunion, but it still hurts. and i can only imagine how they felt seeing my thighs and stomach. i went swimming! they practically saw everything they needed to make fun of me!”

he grabbed your waist, pulling you into a hug against his chest while you caught your breath.

“baby. are you kidding? do you know how often i imagine myself between those thighs while i’m at meetings? how i love pressing on your stomach to push you closer against me when i’m behind you? and, oh my god. those boobs. i would lay on them all day if i could. have you ever noticed how when we’re laying down, my hands just ‘happen’ to move up to your chest? or when you’re.. y’know.. on top of me, i use them to relieve ‘stress’?”

he was helpful whenever it came to compliments. more than helpful.

“i know. but almost every girl in my family has the perky, slim look. i don’t think i’m overweight or anything, but compared to them i must look huge.”

matt shook his head at your comment, knowing that no matter what you wore, you looked like a goddess to him.

“you’re not, baby. you’re perfect.”

he backed up, having a cheesy grin on his face. the same face he makes when he’s about to say something funny but kind of corny.

“i mean, you’re like cherry candy to me.”

you giggled, wiping away the light tears on your face.

you felt safe again.

the morning after, you started doing your fashion shows again. matt smiled knowing he was able to bring you so much comfort, and also bring back your confidence.

-

”how about this?” you grabbed the light brown, one-piece bathing suit that had a sheer cover-up attached to it.

“you would look amazing in it. but, i thought you didn’t like one-pieces because of the way they felt on your skin?”

“i don’t,” you looked down, starting to fidget with the price tag. “but, i don’t know. there’s gonna be a lot of girls at this pool party.”

“so?” it slipped matt’s mind. again. he thought you were perfect, so he saw no issue with the way you looked.

“oh.” he remembered. the comments from your dads side of the family shouldn’t have stuck the way they did. he tried to keep his composure, trying not to imagine the way you must’ve acted after they would say things like that. he started to regret not going with you. it was only a few hours, but those few hours affected the next few weeks of your life.

“well, i think you should forget about what people might think. as bad as this may come off, you can’t change anything about your body. i mean, i love it. if you couldn’t tell.”

his hands landed on your waist, pulling you in.

“and, personally, you have the best body i’ve ever seen.” that meant a lot coming from a guy who’s friends with people like madison beer, nessa barrett, and multiple other attractive female influencers. not that you thought he would ever go for them, but he worshipped you. like, worshipped you.

“i love you so much, matt. you have no idea.”

“i love you more.”

~ after about 15 minutes of scouring through the target to find more bathing suits to try, especially two-pieces, you found the dressing room.

matt sat patiently on the bench right outside, waiting for you to walk out.

“uh, matt?”

“yeah, babe?”

“i don’t really wanna, y’know.. walk out there.”

“okay, that’s fine.”

his eyes widened slightly when he saw the opportunity approach.

“do you want me to.. go in there with you?”

you honestly thought nothing of it. i mean, he's your boyfriend. he's seen you naked like a thousand times.

"sure. maybe you can actually help me get this shit off."

you giggled, and he smirked at your offer.

you unlocked the dressing room door, hiding behind it as you cracked it open making sure no one could see you.

as you stepped out from behind the door, matt's jaw dropped at how the beautiful blue bikini hugged you in all the right places. all the right places.

"holy shit."

you accidentally covered your cleavage with your left hand nervously playing with your necklace, while the right rubbed your forehead.

"you think?"

without a word, he grabbed your left hand and threw it to your side. he was drooling at the sight of his favorite thing in the world.

your tits.

"i- uh.. just.. wow."

you blushed, covering your face with both hands.

"stop doing that."

he threw both of your arms down to your side with a stern look on his face.

"sorry, baby. do you.. maybe wanna help me change out of it?"

in an instant, he turned you around and quickly untied your top.

he slid the straps down your shoulders, admiring the soft skin.

his breath was heavy on your ear while he praised you and stared at your chest.

"god. what could i ever do without you? without these?"

his hands slid from your lower belly all the way up to your chest, playing with them like he needed it.

leaving hickeys all over your neck, he slowly turned you to face him. he tugged at the side of the bathing suit bottoms, signaling for you to take them off. after you did, he was quick to proving that you were everything and more.

"jump."

he had you pressed against the wall, your legs around his lower waist and arms slung over his shoulders. he started kissing in the crook of your neck until he reached your chest. he pecked anywhere he could reach, leaving behind little praises.

"i don't deserve you."

"i can't believe you're mine."

"you look more and more perfect every single day."

after about a minute, you both grew impatient.

he slipped his sweatpants and boxer down to his mid thigh. he kept heavy contact with your lips, making sure you knew just how much he craved your sweet taste.

he teased your entrance, slowly slipping his length into you. after adjusting to not only him but also the new position, he started going at a sweet and sultry but quick pace.

he somehow slipped a free hand, squeezing any amount of your tits that he could while kissing your neck. you fell into a high that left claw marks at his upper back, only motivating him more.

"you see how much i care about you? how perfect your- fuck.. your body really is? you had me folded from a bikini."

you giggled while still keeping your heavy breaths.

"try to stay quiet. don't need some rando knowing how great you really are. you're mine. you're my candy."

light groans and quiet sighs both escaped your mouths as you tried to keep from screaming each others names.

"i love you. i love what you give me. i don't deserve it. god- fuck.. i love you."

-

the coast was clear after walking out of the dressing room, both of you sweaty with slightly messy hair.

you walked to the register, smiling and holding matt's hand.

"just these, please."

"great choices, and i'm sure the boyfriend approves."

the cashier giggled while giving a look that made you blush knowing what just happened five minutes prior.

matt pulled you closer to him by your waist.

"trust me, i do."

-

HAHA YALL BETTER BE HAPPYYYYY

now time to move onto subnerd!matt which might be out by next week!!!

bye sluts!!🌺🍒

[mrpenguinpants]

Sakura, did they...set off your romance sensor?

—  "Oh, listen, this boy here…whenever he senses anything romantic…he goes beet red in the face!!" - Tasuku Tsubakino (Ch.66)

— Hayato Suo, Hajime Umemiya, Jo Togame

[Masterlist]

Wow, my windbreaker brain rot has shot me into a whole new timeline where I can sit down and write. Not gonna lie, not my favorite but it is what it is. I've beat my first fic for a fandom nerves.

Hajime Umemiya

When Umemiya had called a rooftop meeting, Sakura had been through them enough to know what to expect. Umemiya would either show up late or be completely off-topic until someone, mostly Hiragi, stepped in to direct the meeting to its actual purpose. Most of the time, the distractions would be on his plants or his giddy plans of having another barbeque with everyone. It used to be annoying, Sakura once believed the reason why Umemiya was so unserious was because he didn't care. But he knows better now than to take that carefree smile on the surface level. Deep down, Umemiya is a great leader who knows when it's time to get serious.

But this...

Sakura's cheeks are already turning pink.

This is a bit too much for him. He hasn't leveled up enough for this.

"The Three Sisters is a method of gardening that involves planting corn, beans, and squash together. The corn provides support for the beans and squash, the beans add nitrogen to the soil, and the squash's sprawling vines create shade and discourage pests too. It's really quite fascinating, don't you think so Ume?" you ask, lightly petting the leaves of his most recent tomato plant sprout. Your eyes downcasted as you thumb away bits of dirt that happened to be blown by the wind onto the greenery. Perhaps it's because you're one of the few people who entertain Umemiya's rapid obsession with his garden, even going out of your way to tell him facts to better his plot and compliment him on his efforts. Heck, Sakura has seen Umemiya crying because Nirei has told him that his saplings look bigger each time. While Sakura does not doubt that those feelings and expressions were genuine, the look Umemiya is giving you, a look you're not even seeing, feels different. Umemiya himself is different.

"Yeah..." Umemiya responds in a soft tone, his voice almost a whisper. Their usually talkative leader who won't shut up for half a second, who talks over people, is currently so distracted that it's kind of embarrassing watching him. He's been staring at you, eyes zeroing in on your fingers as they brush against the leaves, almost entranced by the sight. Sakura would give anything to leave right now, this second-hand embarrassment is too much. Luckily, Umemiya finally seems to register that you and he aren't alone despite the fact he was the one who called the meeting in the first place. His head perks up confused, hands on top of his knees, as he's greeted with varying expressions from his grade captains. Hiragi in particular looks like he's having both a stomach ache and the urge to slap the back of Umemiya's head. The urge is only partially restrained when you also look up, sending them all a little wave. Hiragi isn't going to slug Umemiya if you're there to see it, it's the pride of a man to not get beaten up in front of his crush.

"Oh shoot, you're all here already? Why didn't you say anything?" Umemiya whines, standing up while dusting his pants free of any lingering dirt. He extends a hand to you, not before rubbing his palm furiously on the back of his shirt, to help you up, "I'll see you later?"

"Mm, sure. Good luck with your new sprouts. Remember to remove the bottom leaves once the plants are over 3 feet tall. I'll be upset if they develop fungus issues," you pat Umemiya's cheek gently, ignoring the way that Umemiya completely melts openly at the gesture. You turn to nod at the rest of them, offering another wave goodbye, as you pass them to exit the rooftop. The resounding sound of the door closing finally sets them back on track.

"We did," Hiragi speaks up as soon the vibrations in the air fizzle out with an exasperated expression, referring back to Umemiya's first question, "You were too busy staring. We've been here for almost ten minutes, you idiot."

"Sorry, sorry, my bad," Umemiya laughs easily, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. Although he's been clearly called out, Umemiya doesn't seem the slightest bit ruffled. Sure, he looks a little bashful but Sakura doubts that he'll tone it back much to the embarrassment of any onlooker. Maybe one day, he'll be able to look that happy with his own feelings on display.

A sudden clap has Sakura jolting back to reality, Umemiya's loud voice returning back to something familiar, "Now then, come sit! I prepared some snacks for us all to share."

Everyone else seems used to Umemiya's behavior and they easily follow him, completely disregarding your and Umemiya's interactions as if they never happened. Sakura doesn't really get it but if everyone else is unbothered, it'd be seriously uncool if he said anything. He lets out a sigh, whatever. It's none of his business anyway.

"Sakura, why are you blushing?" Nirei, the bastard, pipes up behind him. Suo, the even worst bastard, laughs behind his hand like he's some rich Victorian lady.

"Huh, no I- I'm not." Sakura's cheeks went from pink to red, now that he's been caught. He looks away, avoiding eye contact, "S-Shut the hell up!"

Hayato Suo

"Mr. Customer, if you're dissatisfied with our menu, you're more than welcome to leave."

Sakura blinks, head jerking up as he crosses the threshold of Café Pothos. Initially, he assumed those words were directed at him even though it wouldn't make sense. He quite likes the menu despite only ordering the same thing each time. But no, when Sakura looks up it's to a rather unexpected sight. Suo sits at the bar counter, back ram-rod straight and his hands folded in his lap, with that ever-pleasant smile on his lips. Across from him stands a worker Sakura has never seen before. He always assumed that Kotoha was the only employee, but today seems to be full of surprises. A green apron with white ties, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and hands fisted against the hips.

"The bakery across the street would love to hear your complaints, Mr. Customer."

---

There is something about the new worker and Suo that keeps Sakura glancing back at them after he's sat himself in a secluded corner. Perhaps it's because it's a new face he has yet to meet at a place he frequents so often. It's normal to be curious right? Or maybe it's Suo being here alone. He's never seen the man "out in the wild" before. They aren't even looking at him, Suo hadn't even looked up when he first opened the door although Sakura is sure that Suo is aware of him. He's creepy like that. The new worker, however, whips an annoyed glance at Suo before letting out an irritated huff, arms crossing over the green apron, and glaring down at Suo’s smiling face. A face that would remain ever-pleasant in any given situation.

Regardless...

"Is this your version of service? It must be hard on the customer," Suo chuckles, a slight tilt of his head that bounces his tassel earring. Suo's laugh, however, causes Sakura to feel a hint of surprise. It's not a laugh he expects the man to give, yet at the same time, it suits him.

"That's because you're a terrible customer and a pain in the ass." The worker sneers, leaning in so the two of them are face to face.

Suo seems to be difficult for anyone to handle.

"It's busy today," Kotoha says, appearing out of thin air and scaring Sakura half to death. A plate of steaming omurice slides in front of him because he really does only order one thing here. It's not a great conversation starter, but it's nice of her to break the odd tension that has settled over the cafe. Kotoha is also looking to the side, watching the scene of her co-worker and Suo bickering and arguing. Passive aggressive comments are being flown out, scathing remarks padded with polite voices, so much so that the two of you don't seem to register anyone else around. Completely wrapped up in your world of irritation versus amusement.

"What…are they even arguing about?" Sakura chances to ask, his eyes still glued to the curve of Suo's smile, red eye focused solely on you. His hand idly reaches for his spoon, scooping up a bit of rice and egg, yet it hovers in the air ideally. Suo has his head tilted and is leaning somewhat in the worker's space. His eyes don't stray, watching each shift in facial expression carefully to gauge whether his words are having their intended effect. He looks like he's having way too much fun.

"Oh, that." Kotoha giggles, placing her palm on the table. She too looks like she's having way too much fun, "They always go back and forth like that. It's like a game of cat and mouse with those two. They're both stubborn as hell so it's a constant power struggle between them. Although, I wonder what they're arguing about this time. They always bicker at each other when we change shifts."

Kotoha shakes her head, a fond smile on her face. She glances briefly at Sakura before her eyes drift back to the other two. She raises her hand, finally cutting the bubble between you and Suo.

"Hey, I'm back from break. Thanks for covering for me," she calls, waving her hand in the air. The frown that was permanently on your face melts away when you break eye contact with Suo, returning to a more neutral blank look. You only nod to Kotoha, flashing up a thumbs-up, and you move to head back to the kitchen. But not before sticking your tongue out at Suo over your shoulder as you disappear through the doorway. Sakura blinked surprised, he had somewhat expected a different reaction than something so...tame. His eyes drift to Suo and he can feel his cheeks heat up.

He doesn't think he's seen Suo look happier.

Jo Togame

"See, you peel off the seal on the cap. Remove the ring from the little plastic piece you use to push the marble. Then, with your thumb, press down, and poof, the marble drops and you can enjoy!" you grin as you move slowly for Sakura to see your hands with each instruction. The fizz of carbonation and the clink of the marble hitting the glass amplified louder in the abandoned auditorium. A few other shishitoren members are loitering, but only you and Sakura are sitting up on the edge of the stage. After the embarrassment of not knowing how to open the ramune Togame had given him, he sought you out to explain it to him. Sakura didn't think he could stomach it if he went back to Togame again for help. He follows your movement, his fingers removing the thin seal. Popping the ring off the marble pusher, and with his thumb, pushes on the marble. His thumb slips a few times, but you're patient as you coax him to try again. With his third attempt, he feels the marble give, the rewarding sound of bubbles popping.

"Thanks..." Sakura mumbles, a faint blush on his cheeks as you cheer your ramune's together as you take a swig.

"No problem," you say nonchalantly, leaning your weight back on your arms. With the bottle held in your hand, you watch Sakura, who is intently staring at the drink on his own. The silence between you isn't exactly uncomfortable, but you can sense the slight embarrassment oozing off him. "Soooo... how's it taste?"

He gives a soft hum before taking a small sip, the fizzy liquid leaving a tingling sensation on his tongue. It's not as sweet as he thought it’d be. It's rather subtle for a soda. He takes a longer sip this time, the fizz tickling his nose and bubbles popping against his lip. Looking at you sidelong, he can see you already staring at him excitedly. You weren't kidding when you said you were a big fan of this.

"It's sweet, I guess," his voice soft as he shrugs. A few strands of his white hair fell in front of his face. His eyes glance up at you as you stare at him intently, waiting for him to continue. He awkwardly bites the inside of his cheek. It still feels weird having people who actually want to hear his opinion, even if it's as small as a drink. "A bit strange… The flavor is nice, but the fizz is new."

He takes another sip, careful with the angle he tilts the bottle lest the marble block the opening. He doesn't really understand the appeal of the marble. It's a nuisance. The fizz was the best part of the soda, but the clinking made it impossible to drink it quietly. Besides, he holds the ramune bottle out, how the hell do you even get it out? Does he need to throw it against a wall to break the bottle? He doesn't want to get broken glass everywhere since someone could accidentally step on it.

"Is the marble irritating you?" you ask, laughing quietly under your breath to not set Sakura off into another tomato-faced explosion.

"No!" he answers with a quick hiss, cheeks flushing. He can feel you stare at him as a smirk dances across your lips. He can already envision the teasing you’re concocting to make him react. He gives another soft huff, refusing to look at you, as he fidgets with the bottle. He doesn't want to ask you to help again. He already feels like a helpless idiot. Instead of commenting, you swing yourself upwards, planting your hand on your knee. The other hand, wrapped around the bottle, moves to your lips as you down the rest of your drink. The fizz of bubbles pops in the air while Sakura looks at you bewildered. Weren't you supposed to drink carbonated drinks slowly or you'll stomach hurt? Did you become immune or something from drinking so many?

"Come on, let's go. I still haven't finished my ramune 101 class," you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, winking over your shoulder which sends Sakura into another pink mess, as you slide off the stage.

"W- What do you mean we’re not done?" he stammers quickly, flustered as he scrambles up to follow you. He feels a bit dizzy from going from a sitting position to standing too quickly. He grips the bottle in his hand and takes a few quick steps to catch up to you as you stride to the doors leading outside the auditorium. You laugh again when he rushes to catch up. His quick reaction time betrays his small stature. It's kinda cute.

"It means I'm gonna teach you how to get the damn marble out, genius" you tease, shoving his shoulder as you reach the doors. Opening them, the two of you were met with the cool outside air. It's refreshing after being indoors for so long and the auditorium has gotten you both hot and stuffy. Hence the initial ramune drinks. You quickly take his hand, ignoring the screams, as you drag Sakura to the side of the building. "Togame! Are you sleeping still?"

"Huh?" a tired voice answers groggily from the other side of the wall. Togame is sitting on the ground next to the wall with his back against the auditorium. He has his legs stretched out, his head leaning back on the wall, rubbing his eyes to clear the ever-constant droop in his eyes. He looks as if he is napping before being rudely interrupted, "I was..."

"Oops. Hehe, sorry," you chuckle, hands raised up in a mock surrender although you don't particularly look apologetic. To be fair, Togame doesn't look upset either. Only gives you and Sakura a sleepy smile and nods as he raises his arm high to stretch. His green eyes drifted to the bottles of ramune in your hands with a curious tilt of the chin. In response, you beam at him, rattling the marble inside the glass bottle before handing it to him. "Please, if you could."

Togame snorts as he takes the bottle. There's a hint of playfulness in his tired eyes as he shakes the bottle a few times, letting the marble inside thump against the glass. It's funny watching the marble rattle around. It reminds him of a little toy marble maze he had as a child. He flicks his gaze to look at Sakura, who stands off to the side stiffly. The poor kid looks ready to bolt at any second when given an opening. His own half-finished bottle lays limply in his hand, the marble reflecting off the sun's light.

"You know you just have to twist the cap in the opposite direction right?" he says, wrapping his fingers around the blue lid and twisting the cap off. Turning the bottle over, he catches the marble from the opening into the palm of his hand. He extends his hand, sliding the marble into your waiting ones. "I know you're strong enough to do that."

"Yeah, but my hands get cramps and it's impossible to move it!"

"I don't think that's how that works...But if it really is too hard, you can keep coming to me."

Sakura stands by, feeling out of place as you go back and forth with Togame. Yet, he doesn't feel like an intruder this time, merely an observer. He looks down at his own bottle, hands moving to twist the cap off while making sure he doesn't spill the drink.

It's easy. It pops right off with barely any effort. Sakura has quite literally seen you throw a man double your size over your shoulder.

The marble reflects his face messily, but there's a shine of red glinting off the surface.

[critters-crossing]

The forgotten child

Pairing's : fem! reader x peter parker, tony stark daughter! x tony stark, tony stark daughter! x peter parker

Warnings: really sad angst, jealousy, daddy issues, neglect, lmk if i missed anything! :)

Summary: dad of the year award? surely isn't going too him

a/n : I know the gif doesn't really match the theme of this story I just really liked it. I did not reread this so please ignore any grammar mistakes. Also, I'm not sure if i wrote a panic attack correctly but I wrote based on what their like for me. hope you all enjoy!

you really tried not to become the forgotten child, always tried you're very hardest to live up to your father expectations, trying to make him proud in hope's he'd show some form of attention.

always studying to get straight a's even through countless anxiety attacks from fear of failing and disappointing your father.

all you ever wanted was reassurance, and if you ever got lucky enough a "You did a good job" after getting a high score on a test.

but it never came, it would forever be something you longed to hear. he would usually just mumble a small, quiet "congrats" as his mind stayed focused on his work and his eyes stuck to the blueprint laid out on the table Infront of him.

you always tried you're best not to feel jealous whenever your father held morgan, you had no ressentiment towards morgan whatsoever, in fact she was the one that kept you smiling most days. although you couldn't help but feel your heart tighten from jealousy as you watched them have daddy daughter time

you really did try you're best to be happy for your younger sister, but you couldn't ignore that aching feeling. all you wanted was the attention she had that your heart ached so desperately for, but it never came despite your countless attempts.

you we're astound to hear a new avenger had been recruited, you always enjoyed meeting new people. mainly because they gave you attention they didn't even know you craved.

you always seeked to see the best in people, no matter what the circumstances we're. including peter parker, there was nothing wrong with him, he wasn't a bad person in fact quite a good one, and if you weren't so envious of him you possibly could have been friends with the boy. but you watched how peter and your father clicked so easily becoming like father and son.

it made the knots in your stomach tighten as you watched them spend time together, it made you feel as if something was wrong with you, like maybe if you tried harder or changed, he'd give you the attention you deserved.

your mother, pepper always said he loved you just as much as he loved morgan or even peter, but you knew the truth as much as you ignored it you knew. but oh, how you wish he did.

"Mom, I'm home" you called out knowing if father was home, he wouldn't answer you. after not receiving an answer, you decided to look through the house in search of your mother, after a couple of minutes searching you still hadn't found her and decided she probably went out and took morgan with her. you heard talking but it sounded like your father, and peter?? "what's peter doing here?" you wondered. you decided to peak you're head through the door and saw peter and tony standing with their backs faced away from you, working on some upgrades for peter's suit.

"you're a pretty great kid peter" tony told him as he smiled at him patting his shoulder. a wave of jealously hit your chest as you watched them, your throat tightening. "Thank you, Mr. stark," peter smiled cheekily as your fingers clenched into a fist at your side.

"Becoming like my son."

once those words left Tony's lips, your mouth went dry, your head aching as you backed away from the door as quietly as possible, you're breathing picking up rapidly. you quickly made your way to your room, tears forming in your eyes, you walked into your room and shut the door softly as your hands started shaking as you paced around your room quickly, trying to stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. you never liked crying, it made you feel weak.

you're breathing came out in heavy gasp as you struggled to breathe. you leaned against the wall coughing as you squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to stop the words from replaying in your mind.

"Becoming like my son" continuously echoed through your head as soft sobs left your lips, you didn't want to feel this way, envious of what your father and peter had. it's not peter's fault about what your father feels about you so why hold him accountable. he'll never love you, at least not like he loves peter. you can't figure out why? you always tried you're best to impress him, but nothing seemed to be enough for him, it's like he didn't even care about your existence.

you stumbled over to your bed, taking deep breathes as your body grew exhausted from crying. you plopped down on your bed tiredly as you snuggled up against your blanket that was where your pillows we're supposed to be, you grabbed a pillow and hugged it too sleep.

you didn't want to put the blame on peter because it wasn't his fault, but a little piece of your heart blamed peter parker.

a/n: CLIFFHANGER!?!? I decided to leave it for now because I haven't come up with an ending that I thought fit the way I wanted so if you guys have ideas, please let me know. reblog's are highly appreciated, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 7

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 7

Word Count: 3157

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: Yeah I decided to split the 6500k chapter into two since we're going to learn about Law's past and reader's past (this way we get one story at a time). Also, this songs sums up Law's and reader's relationship at this point (it's a beautiful lie, it's a perfect denial) - anyway, don't be mad! Things will fall into place soon enough and the denial will stoooop! Unless the evil author has other plans... *insert evil laugh*

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid

Masterlist

|Chapter 6| | |Chapter 8|

Law keeps pulling you by the hand, and you keep following him. He’s not leading you back to your room yet, the night is still young and you haven’t been excused. He’s taking you to an empty room, away from the hustle of the party, away from prying eyes, and away from Doflamingo’s manipulation and poisonous words. 

You both enter, and Law closes the door behind you, finally letting go of your hand. The room is dark and eerily quiet, your ears still buzz slightly from all the chatter in the other room. There are shadows dancing by the carpet in the middle of the room, the full moon casting its fickle light through the window. 

It’s an office of sorts or a very small library. 

Law sighs and starts to pace, one hand caressing his goatee absentmindedly. He seems on edge, and you feel a little lost. He’s usually so in control, so put-together and now… with a few words from his uncle, he’s falling apart. 

“Law?” You start softly. “Do you want to talk about it?” You ask, but you know you’ll have to talk about it. It’s something important to Law, and in any real relationship, the mention of another woman, mixed with the jabs Doflamingo sent his way, would be discussed. 

“It’s… it shouldn’t be important.” His eyes barely meet yours, there’s a shadow of vulnerability in them that he doesn’t seem to want you to acknowledge.

“But it is, isn’t it?” You take a tentative step towards him, trying to get him to look at you. “Who is she? Who’s Monet?”

The name alone provokes a reaction from him. His fists clench, and the deep crease in his forehead deepens even more. Law groans and continues his incessant pacing, effectively shutting you out from whatever he is processing inside. 

You feel the lump in your throat tightening, and an uneasiness in your stomach makes it churn and burn. It’s as if this bond you’ve been creating - fake or not - has now become a chasm. An endless void between you that you have no idea how to cross. 

It stings. It’s frustrating to be shut out of something so important. Clearly, he’s still hurt from whatever happened. Clearly, there are still feelings buried within. And even though you shouldn’t feel this way - this is not real, remember? - your heart still aches at this sudden realisation. 

“Doflamingo will bring her up more often, Law. In a real relationship, your girlfriend would ask. I need to know.” You try to be assertive, your need to stay in control of any and all variables affecting your tone of voice. This is a loose end, it can’t be left untied, or you’ll risk tripping on it and destroying your whole pretence. 

He sits down on the armchair, his head buried in his hands. There’s pain there. Raw, unbridled pain. You kneel in front of him, gently removing his hands and staring into his eyes, urging him to let you in, to share his vulnerability. 

“It’s… complicated.” He begins. But now his eyes don’t leave yours, as if seeking grounding, an anchor in stormy seas. “Monet was someone important to me, a long time ago. I thought we had something real, but when I brought her home, Doffy did what he always does. He tests, and pushes until someone breaks. And she broke easily.”

Your lips remain sealed, still absorbing all the information he’s willing to share. He continues.

“Turns out Monet didn’t care about me, she was only after money, power and influence and… well, Doflamingo has plenty of each.” 

“So he took her from you?”

Perhaps the pain he’s showing has nothing to do with lingering feelings but with resentment and betrayal. Both from her and from his uncle. 

Law scoffs. “I don’t blame him entirely for it. Monet was the one with the choice. He can push and bend and manipulate all he wants, but he doesn’t force anything. She made her choice. And it wasn’t me.”

He sounds bitter, wounded even. Was the past Law less guarded with his real emotions? Was he less controlled, less in check?

“Do you…” You begin, your questions burning your tongue. ‘Do you still have feelings for her? Do you still love her? Would you choose her over me…?’ Yet you lack the courage to ask them. Perhaps because you don't feel entitled to know the answer. He's not yours, and you are certainly not his. No matter how tempting or exhilarating that notion might be. 

“No.” He still answers. He doesn't read minds, but he can read you like a book. And that's a terrifying thought. 

Your eyes search his, but he avoids you. Is it really a no? Even if he doesn't love her romantically, there's no denying that there's still something there. Why does that realisation  burn a hole in your chest and prickle your eyes? You don't even want to try and figure it out. 

Law runs his fingers through his hair and continues. “Doflamingo knows which buttons to push, he knows me well. He’s well aware of how I bend and how I break.”

“And now he’s trying to do to me what he did to Monet.” Realisation hits you. That’s why he was being so inappropriate and rude. Maybe he used the same words on Monet to lure her. Well, you weren’t here because of Law’s money, you were here because you genuinely cared for him and he requested your help. “Well, he’s barking up the wrong tree.” You say plainly.

Finally Law’s smirk returns to his lips. He seems to have calmed down somewhat, so you reassure him some more. 

“If this were true, Law,” you purposely choose not to use the signal so he knows you’re being real. “You didn’t need to be worried. I would never be with you just for the money. I can’t be bought. You should know that.”

His hand ghosts around your cheek, never really touching, but the vulnerability in his eyes is overwhelming. You revisit the thought that, perhaps, you should discuss emotional boundaries.

Before something irreversible stirs inside you.

“Thank you.” He rises and uses his hand to help you up as well. His amber gaze is focused again, controlled, but still tense. You can see him ready to snap at the tiniest provocation. Monet still bothers him and now it bothers you as well. Though you should try to push that thought to the back of your mind because you know Doflamingo will prey on both your vulnerabilities. 

Looking at Law, you still sense him on edge, his emotions in plain sight when he’s so used to keeping them hidden from the world. And as your heart constricts, pained from his suffering, you realise that maybe that something irreversible has already happened. 

-*-

You both return to the party, weary and praying for the time when it’s appropriate to retire to your bedroom. Law doesn’t leave your side anymore. But Bellamy and Doflamingo’s lingering gazes and snickers have him seething again, and Law decides to take his frustrations out on glasses of whiskey. 

You try to subtly tell him that he shouldn’t be drinking, but Doffy provokes him again with a jab at how polite you are and how well-behaved, and Law picks up another glass. 

You're not feeling too sunny yourself after the Monet conversation, so instead of fighting Law, you decide to join him. You think about ordering another virgin mojito, but instead, you drink one with extra rum. That seems like it will pair well with your mood.

Luckily, Cora announces that perhaps you should all go to bed because tomorrow will be a full day of fun activities and more mingling.

Yipee.

You and Law hold hands as you return to your room, but there seems to be a cloud hovering over both your dispositions. Law remained distant after you returned to the party, probably lost in his own thoughts instead of sharing them with you, and now the atmosphere is charged with tension.

You’re not quite sure what to do to diffuse it, so, after entering the room, you stand in front of the vanity mirror, removing your jewellery slowly. The alcohol you ingested managed to make your head lighter but you are not drunk and Law seems to be the same, despite all the glasses he downed. He must have a very high tolerance for alcohol. 

He unbuttoned his shirt as soon as he entered the room, and he’s now sitting at the edge of the bed, his amber gaze burning into you, even though you’re not facing him. He seems thoughtful but you’re not privy to his thoughts, and once again, that stings.

Trying to ignore both the sting and the gaze, unsure if he needs space or confrontation, you continue your task. But it doesn’t take long before he explodes. “I heard some of what Doflamingo said to you when I was away, before he brought up my past relationship.”

You stare at him through the mirror, your face turning pink at the mention. Doffy had been quite crude, so the fact that Law heard it is a bit embarrassing. “Oh?” Law’s eyes darken with your reaction, a storm brewing behind his golden orbs. 

“Is that what you really want?” The earring slips from your hand, rattling loudly against the wooden surface of the vanity and you turn to face him. 

“What?”

Law gets up, tousling his hair in a desperate move, a frailty and vulnerability in his gestures that you can’t quite handle. “To be brought to your knees with a look? To be bent and taken anywhere as a claim?” He sighs exasperated. “To be controlled with power and a firm hand?”

You straighten your back, eyes sharpening and lips pursing. Doflamingo’s words have been brewing in Law's mind - all that crap about him being too soft - that’s why he seems so distant: Doffy planted the seeds of doubt and now he’s insecure. 

He looks into your eyes, pacing forward, something you can’t quite name shining behind his darkened pupils. “Is it him you want?”

“No.” You say firmly. “Never.”

He takes another tentative step. “Because I can be whoever you want me to be.” You're not sure if it’s the drinks he had, or the rawness that Doflamingo's words pulled from within him. Whatever it is, this vulnerability he’s showing you is very conflicting. 

“I don’t want you to be anybody but yourself, Law. Besides…” Your voice falters. “This is not real.”

With one more step he’s right in front of you. You can feel the heat coming from his body. His scent envelops you and hazes your senses, his voice spirals around your mind, creating a fog of desire you cannot escape. The dizziness that surrounds you doesn't come only from the alcohol. 

“But what if it were real?” He whispers, his lips mere inches from yours. The question sends a shiver down your spine. This is dangerous. You should both stop this before it escalates. 

“What if it were?” You ask, unsuccessful in your efforts. 

His hand reaches up and he hesitates, his hand lingering near your ear, ready to use the signal. Yet he doesn’t do it. Instead, he lets his hand fall to your shoulder, caressing it as it descends, resting at your wrist.

“If this were real,” he starts as his free hand cups your face and tilts it up towards him, getting even closer. “I’d make sure I gave you all you wanted.” His lips brush yours softly, then he kisses your jawline, stopping at your neck and sucking, making you gasp and bite your lip. “If this were real, I’d know you were mine, and I wouldn’t have to be insanely paranoid that I’m going to lose you.”

He’s being much more truthful and open about his emotions than ever before, giving you a glimpse of his real feelings. You’re once again reminded that this is very dangerous territory, but your sane thoughts are all being pushed to the back of your mind. There is only Law now. 

The hand at your wrist moves to grab your hip. He squeezes, caressing the bone with his thumb, then climbs upwards, his thumb scraping against your breast. His fingers slide further, grazing your already erect nipple. The soft noise that escapes your parted lips sinfully resembles a moan. 

“If this were real, I’d truly make you mine. There would be no more doubts.” His hands slip under the straps of your dress, pulling them down and fully exposing your neck and shoulders where he then lays a kiss and a long, wet lick.

Your vision is already blurring, your breaths leaving your lips in broken pants and gasps. Heat and want gather within you, and you don't quite know how to put it out.

“Tell me…” He slurs your name, letting it drag lustfully through his lips, against your collarbone. “If this were real, would you let me take you, right here, right now?”

The question is charged. There has been no signal. You have to assume this is real, but it can't be.

Right?

Yet there is no way to control the words and noises slipping out of your mouth. Even if you weren't hazy from the drinks you had, you know perfectly well that as soon as Trafalgar Law lays his hands upon you, every sane thought leaves you and you are at his complete mercy.

“Yes, yes I would.” You whisper between mewls. 

The tension around you shifts, changing into something heavier as Law’s hands grip your waist tightly. His eyes darken with desire before he lifts you, setting you down on top of the vanity and slotting himself between your parted legs.

“That’s good. Because I don’t think I can stop now.” He doesn’t even give you time to process or weigh his words before his lips come crashing onto yours. His tongue immediately searches for yours. He’s demanding, relentless and you give all you have to him.

He keeps taking it all and the kiss is charged, hungry and consuming. The boundaries you two set in place crumble and blur and you don’t even know what’s real or what’s fake anymore, but do you even care?

Law pulls back, his forehead still pressed against yours as his hands roam up your thighs, slithering beneath the fabric of your dress while his lips wander to your neckline. The straps of the dress he pulled down are exposing the flesh of your breasts and he latches his lips there. “Say you’re mine.”  His voice is ragged, raspy and laced with want and need. “I need to hear you say it. Tell me you’re mine.” He repeats.

You know this comes from a place of hurt. From the void that Monet left, that Doflamingo helped create. Rationally you know that, but your mind is long gone. You’re a mess now. And you can only please him.

“I’m yours, all yours, Law.”

The grunt he exhales is primal and possessive. His hands grip you with force as he lifts you, arms circling your waist, lips latched onto yours again, and he begins stumbling blindly towards the bed. You wrap your legs around his waist, taking advantage of his loss of control by ruffling your hands through his hair, pulling him into your kiss desperately.

From the interactions you’ve had with him, he barely let you touch him. He was the one in control, the one in charge. He touched, he teased, he commanded. Tonight, though… 

There’s a blur between what’s wrong and what’s right, what’s real and what’s fake… and he lets you have this. 

You moan into his mouth as you feel the silkiness of his locks, then you circle your arms around his neck and pull him impossibly closer. Law stumbles as he reaches the edge of the bed but quickly regains his footing, setting you both down, your back against the mattress as he continues to bully your tongue with his.

“Mine. Say it again, sweetheart, let me hear you.” There’s an underlying neediness in his pleas. This is a different Law than the one you’re familiar with. He’s vulnerable. Bent, not yet fully broken, but very bruised. 

Doflamingo managed that on Law’s first day back, and you were both helpless to stop him. 

“I’m yours, Law.” Your whisper is broken, ragged, filled with want and need clawing at your chest, yearning to be let out. Yet…

Law’s hands lift your dress and he keeps kissing the top of your breasts, threatening to go lower with each kiss.

Yet…

Your legs cling onto him, pulling him to you, feeling just how much you want each other. It’s bliss.

And yet…

“I’m… Law… we drank too much… we can’t do this now… this… this is not real.”

The finality in your words seems to rattle and shake you both. Your legs lose their strength and fall down onto the mattress. Law stops his ministrations, his hand still slotted against the back of your thigh as he was lifting it, the other one at the strap of your dress as he was about to expose your breast to his eager mouth. 

“It’s not… real…” He whispers and his breath comes in hot waves against your chest. His hands part with your body and you feel cold and empty without his touch, but he’s still hovering over you, eyes glazed as he tries to regain control of the situation. “We’re not real.” He says with gravitas, reminding both you and himself of your agreement. 

Then, with a swift motion, he gets up, straightening his clothes and running his fingers through his hair. “I shouldn’t have taken things this far… I… Doflamingo he… I… I should have stopped. I’m sorry.”

Somehow you find your voice as you sit up, straightening your clothes as well, now that the moment is gone. “No, Law it’s… it’s okay, I… I also…”

You both stare at each other, a longing in your gaze, your eyes searching each other for promises of impossible ‘what ifs’. Because why can’t this be real? Who’s stopping it? Yourselves? And why?

“This won’t happen again. Forgive me.” He still searches your eyes, maybe looking for some defiance to his statement, maybe looking for something else… yet, you remain silent. Law runs his fingers through his thick black hair and sighs, “I’ll be right back.”

And, once again, he turns to escape a heated, charged situation and takes refuge in the bathroom, leaving you teetering on the borders of your self-imposed boundaries. What is real and what is not or… better yet, what you wish was real and what is not.

Because, as you already realised, you are in this way too deep and the feelings you know you both share are bubbling up, ready to burst. All far more complicated than either of you had anticipated. 

|Chapter 8|

[fallingdownhell]

https://at.tumblr.com/fallingdownhell/sumeru-men-when-your-sisterbest-friend-tries-to/nwf4h3unm1ah

Could I request this ⬆️ but with Ayato, Kaeya, Diluc, Childe, Zhongli? Also, reader actually steps up and nearly goes apeshit with the "friend".

No angst, please!

Alright, alright, I heard you loud and clear. I'm trying my best for readers part, but I can't promise anything.

Also, this escalated quite a bit... hope none of you mind the length of this thing. I just don't know how to keep things short and simple

Characters included: Ayato, Kaeya, Diluc, Childe, Zhongli

Content: Gender neutral reader; she/her pronouns for your best friend; she tries to convince them to dump reader; some cursing; slightly suggestive on Ayato's part; not proof read yet!

Word count: 7.9k words

As always, thank you for requesting and hope you enjoy!

Ayato

I feel like Ayato is a man who would get into a relationship for one of two reasons

Number one would be it being a political type of thing, where the relationship and potential marriage would greatly benefit the Yashiro commission

Or he would not even consider the commission and just date you purely because he fell instantly in love with you and really just wants to court you

but regardless of what the reason might be, he would be loyal to you under any circumstances

he knows that there are many people out there who want to be on his good side, some of them even after his wealth and status

and yet, he would fight off anyone who would dare court him while being in a relationship with you

in that aspect, he learned a great deal from Thoma, so you better be grateful to him

It was a typical slow, mentally draining day for Ayato as the Yashiro commissioner yet again. Many people come to him with their problems, expecting him to magically have the solutions for them at the ready. It's not like he is some kind of know-it-all magician, capable of solving every little issue in this world. Yet people obviously believe him to be exactly that.

Honestly, it's exhausting most of the time. It was quite common for him to work late into the night, like it happened today again. When he finally leaned back a bit to stretch his sore back, he heard a soft knock on his office door. Knowing who would await him at the other side, he mumbled a soft "come in".

You slid the door open, revealing the form of your boyfriend to you. Instantly noticing his tired expression, you went to his side, gently holding his face in your hands.

"You have been working too much", you say after a long while of each of you staring into the others eyes.

You hear a low chuckle from him as he closes his eyes, and leans more into your touch. Having yearned for it the entire day and now finally being able to enjoy it again was one of the best feelings in the world to Ayato.

"You're right, my dear. As you are so often. How about we retreat for today?"

You were inclined to accept his offer, but just as you were about to do so, you remembered one other crucial detail.

"We can, after you eat something. You haven't done that today, have you?"

And as if to betray him, his stomach made a low rumbling sound just as Ayato was about to tell you a little white lie, that it wasn't so bad. Instead, he looked away from you as you giggled at the perfect timing.

"See? Now, you clean up here while I go and get you some light snack. Let's meet in our room, okay?"

He agrees and you gave him a quick kiss to the tip of his nose as a parting gift, before you made your way out of the room, silently, as to not disturb the other servants and residents from their slumber.

Ayato looks after you and as you're out the door, begins to make quick work of his tasks. It's not much to do anyways. Just pack away his writing utensils, stack and organize a few stray documents that he will worry about the next day.

While in the middle of doing this, he heard a soft knock on the door again. Ayato wonderd to himself why you would need to knock when you agreed to meet back at your room. And also, you two should be the only ones awake at this hour anyways.

Still, he answeres the knock with a simple "Yes?". Instead of an answer, the door to his office slid open again, but this time revealing a different figure to him.

He recognized her, a servant of the Yashiro Commission and also a dear friend to you. Though, he did wonder why she was awake at this hour as well.

"Do you need something?", he asked her as she just stood there, not saying a word.

"I... saw that the light was still on and just wanted to check on you, Lord Kamisato. It's getting quite late. Are you alright?"

"I see. I appreciate your concern, but I am quite alright. I'll be retiring for the night shortly."

After he said that, her eyes seemed to light up, but she quickly tried to hide it.

"O-oh, is that so?", she quielty mumbled as she took a few steps into the room, towards Ayato. He eyed her suspiciously, but refrained from saying or doing anything. She stopped in her tracks when she was standing only a few inches away from him.

"Do you want me to keep you company for the night?", she whispered, trying to sound seductive while she put one of her hands on Ayato's chest and looked up at him through her lashes.

In response to that, Ayato quickly snatched her wrist, holding her in a tight grip. Although, she seemed to interpret that gesture the wrong way, as a smile krept up her lips.

"Oh? That eager, Lord Kamisato?"

"You do know that I have a spouse, right?", he said firmly, still holding her wrist tightly.

"Oh please. As if someone as boring as (name) could ever please a man like you. You can admit it, you know. I can see that they are not enough for you. You can have so much more fun with me.", she purred at him, now putting her other hand on his chest.

It made Ayato want to throw up. Every fiber of his body was repulsed by this woman, her words and her actions. He just wanted to deal with this situation as quickly as possible, to get away from her and return to the comfort of your arms. He didn't care if he came across as rude, he did not care for her feelings. After all, she did just insult you in front of him, and he would not stand for that.

So, Ayato finally let go of her hand and took a step back to gain some distance between them. However, that didn't seem to appease her, as she was quick to follow him, that wicked smile still present on her lips. In that case, he had to resort to words as his weapon of choice against this woman.

"Stop this nonsense right now. I have no idea where you got the impression that I am the slightest bit interested in you, but that assumption is just wrong. Plus, I am not the type of man to just go behind my partners back like that."

"Aww, come on. Don't be such a killjoy. Plus, they don't have to know. I won't say anything if you don't~"

"Well, I already know. How about that?", you suddenly chime in, both Ayato and the woman jumping a bit at the sudden sound of your voice behind them. You were leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of you and a dark expression on your face, directed at the person you thought to be a friend of yours.

"I was wondering what took you so long, dear. If I had known you were trying to fend off some filthy pest, I would have come to your rescue sooner.", you continued as neither of them said anything at your entrance. Your words and expression briefly becoming warmer as they were directed towards your lover, but quickly turning dark again when you turned back to the woman in front of you.

You waited a few more seconds, waiting for her to come up with some kind of excuse or something, but nothing came. So, you sighed, pushing yourself off the doorframe and slowly approaching the two of them.

"Glad that I finally got to see your true character. I always thought something was off about you, but still, I never would have taken you for one of those people." Your tone was low and dark, as you came to a halt in front of her.

"Now, you better screw off before I loose the last bit of my temper. And you better never approach any of us again, you hear me, bitch?"

You spat the last few words at her and she quickly ran out of the room, leaving you and Ayato behind. You looked after her for a few more seconds, before a deep sigh finally left your lungs and you turned around to your boyfriend, who was looking at you with a smirk on his lips.

"What?"

"Oh nothing... But, I have to admit, you're cute when you're jealous, (name)."

"Pffft, please. Me? Jealous? Of her? When I'm the one already dating you and having you all to myself?", you laughed, slowly beginning to relax again.

And Ayato still smirked as he began to lean down towards you. "True, I do belong to you. But maybe, it's time you lay claim on me again for everyone else to see as well.", he mumbled before he pulled you into a passionate kiss, a promise for the night in front of you..

Kaeya

Kaeya is a flirt, you and everyone else is very much aware of that fact

though when in a relationship, he would tone down that side of his personality. It's not completely gone, but compared to before it's like you're looking at an entirely different person

but you don't dislike this teasing and flirty side of him. It's part of his charm after all. So long as it's always directed at you and no one else..

Most people would believe Kaeya is more the type to play around than to actually bind himself to another. They also don't believe him to be a loyal person

Well, those people couldn't be farther from the truth. Because of his past, Kaeya is afraid of letting people close to him again. So if you were to manage to do just that and gain his trust.. you best believe that he will never let you go again, no matter what might be thrown his way

The music that was playing in the background of the tavern was as loud as usual. Kaeya was used to it at this point, the comfort of the Angel's Share being as trusted of a companion as the sword by his side.

It was a routine by now that he would swing by the tavern after his duties as a knight had been dealt with for the day. Usually, he would sit at the counter with either Venti or Rosaria to keep him company, sometimes even both at the same time. Those instances were always sure to escalate, so he was kinda glad it didn't happen too often.

Today however, neither of his usual companions were available, so he was doomed to sit at the counter all by himself. But that was quite alright, since he didn't plan on drinking that much anyways. After all, he was merely here to pass time waiting on you to finish your work, so he could take you on the date he promised to take you on today after you both were free.

But since he was done much sooner than you were, he had some time to kill, and the tavern was the first thing that came to his mind. So, he went to your place of work, to let you know that he would meet you there once you were done.

As Kaeya downed his second drink of the evening, he pointed for Charles, the barkeeper, to get him another one, while listening to the music some bard was playing. He was standing next to the entrance and Kaeya had to admit, that his music was rather good. It was a cheery, easygoing melody that went well with the laughter all across the tavern.

It seemed to be one of the bussier nights for the staff of the Angel's Share, seeing as the tavern was packed full of people, some of them already quite intoxicated even though it was still a fairly early evening.

Still, the loud atmosphere was relaxing to Kaeya and he only stopped looking around himself when his next drink was handed to him. Thanking Charles with a nod, Kaeya grabbed the mug and downed a few more sips, when he suddenly got a well-known feeling..

The feeling of being watched.

He tried scanning around the interior of the tavern again without looking conspicuous, but couldn't detect anyone who seemed to be watchful of him.

When the feeling subsided again, Kaeya also began to relax again. He hadn't realized how on edge he became just from that, so he let out a deep exhale. It did make him feel a bit better, but only for a few seconds, before he felt a presence now occupying the free stool next to him.

He turned his head towards that person, cautious of he he might find, when he recognized the figure to be your best friend.

Now, normally, any other person would relax upon seeing a familiar face, but not Kaeya. Not in this situation.

He always had a suspicion, that she was into him. She never made any advances towards him, but that could have been because you were always there with him. Kaeya had never been alone with her until now. And with the way she was eyeing him up and down while smirking at him, he was inclined to think that his suspicion was, indeed, correct.

"Well, would you look at that. What's the cavalry captain of the knights doing here, in this tavern, all by himself?", she began to speak. It was easy for Kaeya to detect the slight slur in her voice, indicating that she already had quite a few drinks already.

Still, he decided to play nice with her and entertain the both of them for the time being. Maybe some company wouldn't be so bad and he did still harber some hope that his assumption could be wrong after all.

"Enjoying a drink, obviously. What else would one be doing at a tavern?", he answered, the usual polite smile returning to his face. To everyone else, it might come across as sincere, but you now know that there was a difference. For a real, sincere smile coming from Kaeya was quite a rarity. But, the woman across him didn't know that, so she happily induldged in the conversation.

"Obviously, I know that. But, why all alone? I never see you without a certain someone accompanying you." Her words carried a distinct amount of poison in them when mentioning you. It didn't sit right with Kaeya at all.

"Oh, I'm actually waiting on them to finish their work. I promised them a date so that't where I'm taking them."

At the mention, her smile dropped and the look on her face changed to an annoyed one. "Seriously? God, Kaeya! When are you finally gonna dump her?!", she snapped at him, standing up from her stool so she could stand in front of him, mere inches away from him.

"Excuse me?", was all Kaeya was able to say, trying to lean back as much as possible to create space between them, but she didn't care for that. Instead, she got even closer, dangerously so, and Kaeya was beyond uncomfortable with the situation.

"You heard me. I wanted you since I first laid my eyes on you, but you never acknowledged me. And as soon as (name) comes along, you're all over them and completely ignore me!

I hate them so much! When are you finally gonna realize that I would be so much better for you? Just dump their lazy ass, they're never gonna be something big anyway. Come to my side, Kaeya!" As she said all that, she simultaneously began to claw on his clothes. Kaeya tried to push her away, but it seems that people were right when they said that drunk people seem to gain some kind of unexplainable strength.

"Are you out of your mind? NO! Now get off of me!", he yelled instead, still trying to get himself free. But she ignored it, instead reaching behind his neck and pushing his head down, trying to force a kiss onto him.

"AHH!", she yelled not even a second later, both in surprise and pain as her head got pulled back by her hair suddenly. She managed to pull herself free and both her and Kaeya were surprised to see you standing there, now putting yourself between the woman and your boyfriend. A furious look on your face, you seemed like you were about to loose your temper.

"He already said no, you bitch. You're really going so far as to assault someone because you don't get it your way? That's a new low, even for you." Your voice was ice cold and Kaeya shivered a bit from it, but he also had to admit that he did like this protective side of you. It was something he didn't get to see very often.

"I was just trying to safe him from your pityful grasp. He deserves someone better!"

"You mean, someone better like you? Come on, don't make me laugh. Who in their right mind would want a dirty street rat like you?", you lauged at her as she looked at you with shock. "Now fuck off before I completely loose myself."

That last sentence from you came out completely serious and cold, both her and Kaeya knew that you would not hesitate another second to fight her off if you had to. With one last, longing look at the man behind you, she grabbed her stuff and ran out the tavern door, leaving the two of you behind.

You let out a loud sigh as she was finally gone, turning around to Kaeya. "Are you okay?", you asked him, worry now written all over your face.

He smirked a bit, slipping out of his stool so he now stood in front of you, leaning down so he could put a hand to your cheek. "I am.", he whispered, leaning down to plant a soft kiss to your forehead. "Thanks for fending her off. That was really sexy."

You rolled your eyes at that, but didn't say anything against it. Instead, you pulled Kaeya in for a soft, sweet kiss. Both of you smiled before you finally made your way out of the tavern and to where Kaeya promised to take you.

Diluc

Oh boy.. I really love Diluc, but let's be honest here.. he has a lot of issues, that would directly pass over to the relationship, if he ever were to enter one

abandonment issues, trust issues, self worth.. Diluc has a lot of struggles

he makes sure to let you know beforehand, so you can back out of it if it's too much for you to handle. He won't go into any details, but he gets his point across

Now, if you decide to stay with him and help him work through all this, he would be head over heels in love with you. For someone to know everything about him, including his bad sides, and still deciding to stay with him?

He honestly never thought this would happen to him. Which is why he's all the more glad that you stayed and proved him wrong

It was the late afternoon and Diluc was still in the process of getting himself ready and presentable.

Today was the day of your one year anniversary and he had promised to take you on a cute little stargazing picnic. He had been looking forward to this day the entire week, trying to finish as much of his work as early as possible, so that nothing would come in the way today.

He checked his outfit over one more time in the mirror, looking for any holes or other form of dirt, but couldn't find anything. Then, he moved on to his hair, trying to tie it into a high ponytail. He knew that you loved it when he wore his hair like that, and he didn't mind it either way, so why not.

After all, Diluc wanted to spoil you today. Although technically this day is for the both of you, he just couldn't help but want to make it all about you. Because, after all, you were the one who chose to stay with him. To love him and show him that it was okay for him to love you as well.

It took some time, and he is still nowhere near a perfect partner for you, but he is trying. And you always tell him that him trying is more than enough for you and that you couldn't and would never ask anything more than that from him.

Diluc was so glad that you stumbled your way into his life. It may sound cliché, but he truly has no idea where he would be in life if you weren't there by his side to help guide him in the right direction.

Dare he even say, it was also thanks to you and your effort, that he is now slowly starting to reconcile with Kaeya. Their relationship was still rocky after years and years of miscommunication and suppressed feelings, but it was slowly starting to pick up and move into a... better direction, for lack of a better word.

He had so much to thank you for, and he swore to pay you back for it every day of his life that he got to spend with you. You would forever be the best thing to happen in his life, and he didn't care how down bad that sounded.

As he was finally done with preparations, and giving himself one last glance through the mirror, a soft knock on the door brought him out of his head and back into reality. Confusion written over his face even more, as Adelinde opened the door and walked a few steps into the room.

"My apologies, Master Diluc, but it would seem that you have a visitor. I informed her of the bad timing and to come back another time, but she insisted. I directed her towards your study room, she is waiting for you in there.", she informed him, her head lightly bowed down.

"Thank you, Adelinde. I will deal with them shortly.", Diluc answered, though obviously annoyed at the situation.

Why today? And why now?

All he wanted was for you and him to spend a nice evening together. And now someone wasn't even going to allow him that? Not if he had a say in it. He would just go in there and deal with the visitor swiftly, then make his way to Mondstadt, where he promised to pick you up.

Once he made sure that he was presentable so he wouldn't have to return to his room again, he went out and closed the door behind him. He walked quickly, having a goal already in his mind, so he wanted this situation to be over as soon as possible.

He gave to quick knocks to the door of his study room, to inform the person inside of his arrival, before opening the door and stepping inside.

Upon his entry, a woman who until now had been sitting in one of the comfortable armchairs stood up, facing his way. It took Diluc a moment, but he soon recognized the figure as a close friend of yours. He saw her from time to time, but he never had much to do with her, they never had an extended talk or conversation, so Diluc had no idea why she was here now and what she could want from him.

"You came..", she said, like she couldn't actually believe it.

"It would be quite rude of me to just leave a guest and not greet them, wouldn't it? So, please, state your business with me. And, not to sound rude, but please make it quick. I have somewhere important to be in a bit."

"That's why I'm here..", she mumbled quietly.

"What was that?"

"Nothing!", she exclaimed, a little startled. Trying to mask her nervousness with a chuckle, she began to play with her hair while looking everywhere else but at the man standing in front of her.

A good minute passed without her saying anything else and Diluc was growing more and more annoyed with her. Was she just here to waste his time?

"Look, if you have nothing to discuss with me, then-!"

"No! I- I mean, I do have something to discuss. I just.. don't know where to start..", she got quiet near the end again, making it hard for Diluc to understand her, but he did.

"If this will require more time, I have to ask you to move it to another day. I really don't have the time right now.", Diluc simply replied, already kind of mad at her that he wasted more time here than he had to. He turned around and was about to leave, when the woman behind him spoke up again.

"I like you!", she yelled, which caused Diluc to halt in his steps and turn to look at her, a bewildered look on his face.

"What did you say?"

"I like you, Diluc. I have for a long time. But I never had the courage to tell you and then (name) got in the picture. Honestly, I hated them the moment you and them got together.

They took you from me! It should be me by your side, not them! I deserve you so much more than some pesky lowlife like them!", she still yelled, but was now slowly moving towards Diluc.

The man, still surprised by what was happening right now, didn't move away, and she apparently took that as a sign to continue on her little rant.

"I know you think that you love them, but trust me, you don't. You may feel like that now, but I am the one meant for you. I can make you so much happier than you could ever think. Just give me a chance, Diluc.", she pleaded as she arrived in front of him.

She extended an arm, about to lay her hand on his shoulder, when he suddenly caught her wrist mid air. His grip was tight, and the look he threw at her full of disgust. She flinched a bit as she saw that, but still tried to stand her ground.

"Listen closely", Diluc said, his tone hard and cold, as he looked into her eyes, unforgiving. "(Name) will forever be the only one for me. No one else could ever hope to come close to what they mean to me. Especially not you. The fact that you came here, to berate and talk bad about someone who thinks of you as their friend, trying to steal their lover away. And for what? Some silly illusion you created in your head?

My top priority will always be (name). No one will ever come inbetween me and them, no matter what you might say or come up with."

He quickly let go of her wrist now, like her skin was suddenly made out of some kind of acid and it burned him on the touch. The look of disgust still evident on Diluc's face, as he took a step back towards the door.

"Now, please excuse me but I have a date to go on with my lovely parnter. And just to be perfectly clear, I would advise you to stay away from them and me from now on. And if I were to catch wind of you putting out rumors about them, I will not hesitate to act against you."

With that being his parting words, Diluc left the study room and made his way down to the main hall, where Adelinde was waiting down by the stairs.

"Please escort our guest out of the mansion as soon as possible. And make sure to let the other staff know that she is not welcome back here anymore.", Diluc informed Adelinde, who bowed her head in understanding.

"As you wish, Master Diluc. I wish you a pleasant night.", she said, before making her way up the stairs.

After that, Diluc left the mansion and made his way back to the city of Mondstadt. He appreciated the walk, as he was able to clear his head a bit before he would see you again, which was just what he needed after that encounter.

Once he arrived and saw you waiting for him by the fountain, all the negative emotions within him washed away again, his heart feeling at peace.

He greeted you with a soft kiss, which you reciprocated. He took you with him to Windrise, where the two of you would have your picnic. On the way there, he told you all about what had happened just about a few hours prior to your reunion.

It was fair to say that you considered the friendship with her to be over and you thanked Diluc over and over again for defending you, while also apologizing to him that he had to deal with that in the first place. But not to worry, because you made it more than up with the cuddles he got from you afterwards.

Childe

Childe is a family person through and through

Like, they have the final say wether his relationship whit you would last or not. Not in the sense of approval, more like if you get along with his parents and siblings

If they like you and you also get along with them well, he would be over the moon

also has a pretty high rank thanks to his position as a fatui harbinger, so people know not to mess with either of you, unless they want to be punished

Childe, I think, is actually one of the most loyal Genshin boys

He would stop at absolutely nothing to ensure your safety and to make you feel loved. The only way he would allow this relationship to end, is if either one of you would be to fall out of love with the other. But, at least for his part, that probably won't ever happen

Since his return to Snezshnaya a few days ago, Childe has been stuck in his office at the fatui headquarters. It was required of him to finalize his reports on his latest missions, which meant for him to sit in his office the entire day, write paper after paper, then return home in the evening, only to resume the process the next day.

It has been tiring for him. He never would have thought that dealing with paperwork could be this tiring. No wonder the higher ranking harbingers all have some kind of sectretary who do that work for them.

In fact, Childe has been so tired out from writing these reports, that he didn't get any proper training in these days. Instead, he always returned right back home to your side, almost always falling on top of you on the couch. If it weren't for you keeping him somewhat coherent, he would instantly pass out on the couch, not to be woken up until the next morning. You gently kept him awake long enough for him to take a shower and eat dinner with you, before you both went to bed together, where Childe hugged you even closer to him.

It has become some kind of new routine at this point and although you didn't mind it all that much, you clearly saw how exhausted your boyfriend was from all this. Even more so since he wasn't able to pursue his usual stress relief with the training.

You could clearly see how tired he still was, sitting next to you eating his breakfast, his eyes looking almost blank and lifeless. It made your heart ache at the sight.

"So.. do you know how much longer it'll take until you've finished all the reports?", you cautiously asked, not wanting to stress him out even more in the early morning hours.

"At least a few more days..", Childe quietly answered, the weariness clearly evident.

You thought about what you could do to make him feel a little better, at least, when an idea sparked in your head.

"Well, I can't really help you with your work, but, if you want to, I could bring you lunch today. Your mom taught me how to make your favourite."

At that, his eyes visibly brightened up as he looked at you. "Really? When did that happen?"

"While you were out on your mission in Liyue. I had some time on my hand and I thought it would be a nice surprise but I didn't get around to making it yet.", you answered, glad that such a simple thing was able to cheer your boyfriend right back up.

He got up and engulfed you in a big hug, placing little kisses all over your face. "Thank you, (name). I love you so much."

You giggled as you guys spend the rest of your morning together before it was time for Childe to leave again.

...

His mood this day was by far better than the days before, and his underlings had no idea wether that was a good thing or if their impending doom was approaching them.

But as more hours went by and nothing drastic had happened yet, they decided that it had to be something good.

Childe was constantly humming in his office, the writing part was getting much easier now that he got a hang of it. The occaissonal troop came into his office every now and then, awaiting for new orders from him.

He dealt with them every time before resuming his reports until one particular group came to him. He knew one of the members better than the others, namely because it just so happened that she was a friend of yours, who joined the ranks of the fatui a few weeks ago.

She got assigned under Childe, but they haven't really been working together yet, as shortly after he was sent out to his mission on Liyue, which took him a few weeks to finally complete. And since then, he had been locked up here.

Anyway, back to the present. The leader of that small group gave a quick report to Childe, informing him of their accomplishments. The harbinger only nodded, listening to them.

"Alright, sounds good. For now, I want you guys to go to the training grounds. Improve on your strenghts and get rid of your weaknesses. This will be your task for the following week. After that time, you will face me in battle again, to assess your progress.

That would be all.", he said to dismiss them. They all hurriedly made their way out of the room, except for one member of the group. The woman stood still in front of Childe, and it took him a moment to realize that she was still standing there.

"Hmm? Was there something else you needed?"

"Well.. I have a bit of a personal question, if you would allow it, Lord Harbinger.", she answered respectfully, bowing her head at him a bit.

Childe thought it over for a second, but didn't think anything bad of her request, so he allowed her to ask her question.

"Thank you. It's about (name)", she said and the mention of your name both set him on edge and also brought a small smile to his face. You just had that effect on him every time, even after months of dating already.

"What is it that you see in them? Why are you with them? I just don't understand it."

"What about it don't you understand?", Childe asked, bewildered as he sensed the obvious hostility she seemed to harbour when talking about you.

"I mean, they're just so boring and bland. I don't get what you see in them. Surely they can't be enough to satisfy you. You could have anyone else, you have so many better options. Why them?"

After her little rant was over, Childe stood up from his place behind his desk, walked around in front of it, and leaned against the table, crossing his arms in front of him.

"And let me guess.. you think you would be better suited for me than them, am I right?"

She nodded as she took a step forward, towards him, but one ice cold glare from Childe let her freeze in place. But she got her composure back quickly, returning his gaze.

"I do.", she stated, holding her chin up high, trying to look more confident than she currently felt.

Childe continued to look at her a few more seconds, before averting his eyes and sighing in disappointment.

"I think I've heard enough. Just so you know, you could never be enough for me. (Name) is more than enough, they are the perfect match for me. And I'm most definitely not about to give up on that for some random chick that decides to throw herself at me.

Anything you want to add, (name)?"

The last sentence was said a bit louder by Childe, knowing that you had been standing outside the door and listening in on the conversation. Upon mentioning you, you entered the room and by the surprised look on the womans face, she didn't realize that you were actually present.

"Not really, I think you already made yourself perfectly clear.", you said, your look at her as cold as Childe's was.

"We're over. Can't believe I ever was friends with someone like you.", was the only thing you felt like adding to the situation, before the woman ran out of the room without another word, feeling utterly humiliated.

You and Childe both looked after her, before looking at each other. Then you guys burst out into laughter at how ridiculous this entire situation was.

After you had calmed down again, you guys shared the food that you made for him in his office, you sitting on his lap since he wouldn't allow you to sit anywhere else. It was safe to say that Childe acted a bit more clingy with you for the next few days.

Zhongli

It has been quite some time since Zhongli's last relationship and even though he has an understanding of the principles, the more intimate details of it are kind of lost on him

have some patience with him and teach him the ropes of it again and you will be rewarded with one of the most loving and caring partners one could ever wish for

he also tends to be a little bit on the jealous side, but he means no harm in it. He knows you're more than capable of standing up for yourself, but he can't help it. He is your partner after all, it's only natural he wants to protect you

Also a very loyal man. If he chooses a partner, he stays with them through all the good and bad times until the bitter end. Whatever form that end will take..

Zhongli let out a heavy sigh as he was finally done with his work for the day. Who knew that the work of a consultant could be this demanding?

Hu Tao had him staying late for the past two weeks, since, as she said, work had been piling up and she needed all the help she could get.

While you were understanding of the situation, not minding him coming home later to help out his boss, Zhongli did mind it very much.

Because now, work kept getting in the way of his quality time with you. While he was stuck here, he could be home with you, snuggling up on the couch, or out on a date with you.

Come to think of it, it had been quite some time since you two last went on one. Perhaps he should take you out to Wanwen Bookhouse again, with a nice dinner afterwards at Liuli Pavilion. That sounded like a good idea.

Still thinking about this, and possible other locations where he could take you to, he continued to tidy up his workplace, so that he could finally leave as soon as he was done with that.

Hu Tao had already left earlier today, claiming she would be gone for some type of commission and left him the keys to lock the place up after he was done for the day.

Once he was done cleaning up, he went outside and locked the door, putting the keys into his pocket to keep them safe. He would return them to Hu Tao again once his well deserved weekend would be over. Oh, how he longed to spend those blessed days enveloped in your arms, hoping you would never let go of him again.

Gazing up at the sky, he noticed that it was still quite early. He still did some overtime, but he did get off earlier today than the days prior. So, Zhongli decided on the spot to surprise you with some of your favourite food.

He went over to Wanmin Restaurant, which coincidentaly was also on the way to your shared house, to pick up something to eat for the both of you.

Upon approaching the vendor, Chef Mao immediatly recogniced the man.

"Ah, Mister Zhongli! Good evening! The usual?", he asked in a cheery tone, to which Zhongli agreed to.

While waiting for his food to be done, he took place on one of the stools outside the building, looking around the streets. It wasn't quite as busy as it was during the day, but there were still fairly many people out and about, doing their business.

"Hey! Zhongli!", a voice greeted behind him, so the man turned around to see a dear friend of yours approaching him and taking place next to him on an empty stool.

Zhongli gave her a gentle smile, not minding her presence at all. Maybe some company would be good for the time he had to keep waiting for the food to be done.

"Good evening. What brings you here on this fine day?", he asks her, trying to engage in some small talk with her.

"Oh, nothing much. I was just out for a walk when I saw you sitting here all alone.", she smiled, leaning a bit closer to him. Zhongli noticed this, but didn't think anything of it, which is also why he didn't say anything about it.

"Ah, yes. I am merely waiting for it to be done cooking, so that I can surprise (name) with it at home. I have been working late for the past two weeks so I hope she will accept this small piece of apology."

Upon mentioning your name, he noticed how her expression turned a bit sour, but it was gone so quickly the next second that he thought he just imagined it.

"Is that so..", she mused, seeming to be lost deep in thought.

After that, the conversation died out and a sort of uncomfortable silence fell between Zhongli and your friend. Not knowing what to best do in this kind of situation, he just remained silent, still patiently waiting.

A few more minutes passed and finally, Chef Mao came to Zhongli again, this time with two containers of food in his hands.

"Here you go. Sorry it took so long, busy day today."

"Not a problem.", Zhongli reassured him as he handed the man his money. He was about to say his goodbyes to your friend, when she suddenly grabbed him by the arm.

"Wait!", she said, suddenly having a form of urgency to her voice that made him halt.

"Yes? What is it?"

"I... I want you to break up with (name)!", she exclaimed, shocking Zhongli with her words. Why would he say such a thing.

The confusion obviously written all over his face, the woman sighed as she got even closer to him.

"I am in love with you, Zhongli. And I want to be with you. I don't care if I start out as just a side chick for you, so long as you break up with them and choose me in the long run.

Trust me, you'll see for yourself just how inferior (name) is to me in every aspect of life. Bet they aren't even any good in bed. I know you're not satisfied with them, so why not enjoy yourself with a little fun on the side?"

Zhongli couldn't believe what he was hearing. He knew how much you trusted her, so for her to betray that trust you put in her so easily, it made his heart ache for you. But it also made him furious. How dare she talk about you like that in front of him? You were everything to him, and you were definitely more than enough.

Anger slowly krept its way up inside him, being more and more evident in the way his gaze turned cold and his hands tightly gripped the containers he was holding.

But before he could let his anger out on that woman, he heard an all too familiar voice call his name. "Zhongli!"

There you were standind, a few feet away from them and slowly walking over to your boyfriend.

"Hey (name)!", the woman cheerfully said, putting on a seemingly perfect act in front of you, being all nice and friendly again, like she wasn't just trying to steal Zhongli away from you.

"What a surprise to see you here. We were just talking about-!"

"About how you want to be the side piece of my boyfriend? Yeah, I heard that.", you said in a very matter-of-fact way, it caught her completely off guard.

"Huh?", was all she was able to get out, a look of bewilderment present on her face. You, however, have heard enough and you were done with her.

So, you only rolled your eyes at her, before lowering your voice, trying to sound as intimidating as you could. "Listen here, you bitch. He is taken. You had all the time and chances before I met him, and now, he is mine.

So back the fuck off before I go off on your fake ass face."

Panic now written all over her face, she took a few steps back. "You wouldn't.. You're crazy!"

"Oh, but I would.", you growled, taking a step forward, which finally caused her to turn around and run away from the two of you.

Relieved, you let out a sigh and turned around to your boyfriend, who had witnessed the entire scene.

"Sorry you had to deal with that.", you apologized sheepishly, gaze now turned to the ground.

"Don't apologize, my dear. After all, I should be the one apologizing to you, since you just lost a friend because of me. But, I do want to say, I hope you know that I would never choose someone else over you."

"I know that.", you nodded as you looked up at him, offering him a warm and loving smile. Ahh, how he had missed that smile the entire day. He just had to lean down and give you a soft kiss, which you very gladly reciprocated.

[safination]

Partners in Death...and Life

After The Glimpse

|Masterlist| Ao3|

“You were taking too long,” you say, plain and simple. As if that would answer all his questions. Those eyes of yours land on his knuckles. There’s no reason to hide them from you, especially when you’re looking at him with that sad, sad, expression he painted across your face. It’s in the way your lips wobble, and it’s in the way your eyebrows furrowed together. “I would never leave you.” You press your cheek into his palm, nuzzling into it even as blood transfers to your skin. “Nothing will keep me from following after you.” Alastor swipes his thumb across your face. “Even to the depths of hell?” “Even past that, my dear.”

Pairings: Alastor x wife!Reader Tags: fem!Reader, AFAB, Established Relationship, Asexual! Alastor , being a simp for your partner, Asexual! Alastor, husband! Alastor. human! Alastor

THIS CAN BE READ AS A STAND-ALONE Please read this. I'm begging you, but no pressure!

WELL, WELL, WELL. Here we are again. I'm doing three to four bonus chapters. If you want to be tagged, just tell me lol. I didn't think I would be adding a bonus chapter for this fic, but oh well, here we are again. I've missed you guys and I've missed writing my favorite married couple. This is also a special thank you to my friends from VoxTec (Yes, we're friends. I claim you as my friends.) I would have been done with my this fandom if it wasn't for them. Say thank you to them because I've been writing because of them

|Part 9: The Vows That Bind Me [Finale]| |Part 11: Before The Last [Bonus]|

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Alastor needs better car seats.

It’s official – your ass is numb from sitting too long. It spread down your thighs, and straight into your bones. A walk would certainly fix this problem, but you’ve already taken five in the past hour.

Maybe, this wouldn’t be an issue if Alastor invested in comfortable seats. All that money from being a celebrity, and yet, he drives a shit car!

You lean your head on the window, subtly stretching your legs to increase blood flow.

Moonlight illuminates the area around, painting shadows in the shape of trees. It’s the only source of light for miles because of course, it is.  The trees howl from the force of the wind, and the shadows dance against the car window.

Well . . . that totally does not bring a chill up your spine. There’s totally no reason to shrink deeper into the shitty car seats. Really, it’s not creepy – not one bit.

“Tired already?” Alastor peeks out an eye. He’s settled on the seat, hands folded across his stomach. “It would bring me great joy to say, ‘I told you so’ because I did tell you, dearest, these things take time.”

Something hoots from the forest, and you’ve had enough.

You lean away from the window, and straight into Alastor’s side. It’s funny, really, how the simple brush of his clothes, and maybe, just maybe, the darkness outside doesn’t seem as frightening as before.

“I haven’t said anything yet, but I didn’t think it would take this long,” you say, mumbling into him, and pull your legs up the seat to curl closer. “I told you I wasn’t going to complain. So, I won’t.”

Alastor pushes your knees, forcing your feet off the car seats.

You laugh into his chest, and settle deeper into him, with your feet staying where it should be—off his shitty car seat.

Alastor wraps an arm around you, tracing circles on your arm with a slight chuckle. The tips of his finger go round and round and round. It pulls you into the lull – eyes blinking to stay awake. A small tune escapes him, and the vibration of his chest forces your eyes to shut.

“I won’t make you wait too long,” Alastor says into your hair. “The drugs will wear off soon, remember. I’ll make quick work of him, and we can go home together.”

A small hum. “Is that a promi— ”

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

Panicked roars of anger bounce against the small space of the trunk, startling you out of Alastor’s arms.

Fists bang into the trunk over and over and over and over again, but the thick metal muffles his desperate attempts to escape. How curious of him to try and fight back. Does he not know how much energy he’s wasting?

“Now, now, you should be resting.” Alastor pulls on your arm, crashing you back into him. “Give it a few minutes. He’ll calm down, eventually. Panicked animals are such a bother to deal with.”

“Al . . .,” you mumble as you settle back into his arms, and grip part of his shirt into your fist. “Is it always this loud?”

“Sometimes.” Alastor resumes tracing your arm. “It doesn’t happen often enough for it to become a problem for me.”

The pull of home calls out, tempting you with the soft allure of warmth and peace . . . but . . . but, all the warmth and peace you could ever need is right here, next to you, tracing circles into your arm with a small smile. You’re already home.

If Alastor continues to lull you to sleep, maybe you wouldn’t mind living inside this car with him, and only him, despite the shitty seats – regardless of the shitty seats, actually.

Like all things, that frightened panic ends, and so does Alastor’s tracing.

Alastor peels you off his chest, and grips your shoulders. Eyes stare right into your own. It commands your gaze. “This is important, dearest. Stay in the car, and whatever may happen—you are not to follow me.” His grip tightens. “If I take too long, I need you to leave me.”

“That . . . that wasn’t our deal, Alastor,” you say, frowning.  Something settles in your stomach. You don’t like this—not one bit. “We agreed I would be there to watch.”

“Now, now, stubbornness will get you nowhere.” Alastor pinches the bridge of his nose. “I allowed you to watch from the car— you watched as I drugged him, and watched as I stuffed him in the trunk. Be good, and promise me you will stay here.”

“Deare—”

Alastor places a finger on your lips, shushing you. That smile on his face makes you want to scowl. The absolute audacity!

“I’m not above putting my own wife inside a trunk,” he says, and flicks your nose. “It’s dark outside, and if I accidentally shoot you . . . well, it would be quite bothersome to have to bury you as well. Think about what the papers would say when you go missing!”

You slap his hand away. “Radio Star so Incompetent His Wife Leaves Him.”

“Hilarious.” Alastor rolls his eyes, showing off how he does so.

“I’ll stay up in the trees.” You play with the tips of his fingers. “Surely, your aim isn’t that horrid.”

“I’ll be running around and moving all over the place. You’re not familiar with this part of the forest.” Alasto presses a kiss on the edge of your lips. “I’ll return to you, but you need to stay here. Leave if you have to.”

One, single nod. It’s the only response you’re able to give.

Denying Alastor will never be an ability available to you, not when he’s looking at you with eyes that are oh, so soft.

Alastor tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and steals one last kiss. “I won’t make you wait too long. That’s my promise to you.”

The car door opens with a click, and it’s not the icy air that chills your spine.

You . . . you don’t want him to go. It’s weird, actually. Why do you find yourself grabbing his hand? It stops Alastor before he can take a single step out of the car.

“Or, you can kill him right here. Shoot or slice him or whatever.” You squeeze his hand. There’s a nagging voice that tells you to keep him in your sight. “Just . . .  just . . .”

Just what?

Alastor squeezes back. “That would spoil all the fun!” he says, but the car door closes anyway. He settles back into the chair, and his thumb goes up and down your skin. “I have to give him hope that there’s still a chance to fight back.”

What exactly do you want to happen? What exactly do you want to tell him?

Don’t go where I can’t follow.

“I don’t like this,” you say, instead. “Al, I don’t like this at all—not one bit.”

“Ha!” His laughter bounces across the air. “Dearest, are you worried for me?”

“Yes, I am.” You play with the ring around Alastor’s finger, and place a small kiss against the metal band. “Don’t be so surprised—of course, I’m worried.”

Alastor pulls back his hand, and it takes everything not to reach out for him.

Three taps —Tap. Tap. Tap. That’s all it takes, and your fist open automatically. Alastor drops his ring into your open palm. It’s clean and polished as if it’s regularly maintained.

Oh . . . oh, he’s giving back his ring.

“What’s going through that head of yours?”

“Hopefully, something foolish,” you say, trying to give him a smile.

“That’s impossible. There’s nothing foolish about you.” Alastor pulls your hand closer, and he slips his own ring around your finger. “Don’t give me that look— I want this back.”

Alastor’s ring is bigger than your finger. It’s a bit loose, but it won’t slip out easily.

“Then I’ll give it back.”

“What a silly and ridiculous wife to exist with.” Alastor boos your nose. “It’s quite exciting to learn you’re capable of such worry. I’m honored that it’s me you’re worried about.”

“I . . . I’m capable of worrying about you.”

Alastor pulls his jacket around your shoulders, wrapping it like a blanket. “This world could burn around you, and I don’t think you would care.”

“It’s cold outside. You need this more than I do.” You push the jacket towards him. “ . . . This is me, caring about you.”

Alastor presses a kiss on your cheek, and re-wraps the jacket around you. “Silly and ridiculous!”

The urge to stop him, to grab on to him and never let go . . . it never fully disappears. You keep your hands busy. It plays and twirls with the two rings around your finger.

The car door opens, and this time, Alasto steps out.

The faint smell from Alastor’s jacket warms you with the scent of home, and your eyes shut.

Time passes, and you don’t know how long it does. But the truth sinks its unforgiving claws into you; Alastor is taking too long.

Moonlight reflect against the rings around your finger, and the decision is made.

Alastor didn’t want you to freeze. It’s why he left his jacket to warm you. So, you put it on, wrapping it closer around your body. The car door opens, and warmth and peace and home guard you against the chill.

There’s a shovel at the back seats . . . It’s better than nothing.

“Alastor . . . Oh, my love,” you call out into the wind. “Don’t go where I cannot follow.”

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Alastor.

Alastor? Tell me what’s happening right now.

The grip around his neck tightens, and Alastor knows he made a mistake. That nostalgic tase of boyhood hits him. It’s in that paralyzing tune of helplessness. It’s in that choke-hold of fear. A familiar friend—one he hasn’t seen since before Alastor took his first victim.

It’s not supposed to be like this.

Alastor lost track of him between the trees and their shadows. It only took one, single second. A slight miscalculation that won’t be happening next time.

You would need to be alive for there to be a next time, love.

That . . . that’s your voice. This should be impossible, yet Alastor knows it’s you who’s calling out to him. You should have left hours ago—that was the agreement. Great, he’s going insane from the lack of oxygen. His brain conjured up your voice from the deepest parts of him. Of course, it would be you projected during his crazed attempts to breathe.

Alastor.

Tighter and tighter and tighter and tighter and tighter. It . . . just . . . never ends.

Spots flood his teary vision as everything grows dimmer. Alastor can barely see the man’s desperate expression. Such a shame, too. You would love to hear about his pathetic whines, and Alastor would love to describe it to you.

Alastor?

That was you calling out for him and only him. The way you say his name . . . It’s in that oh, so soft voice of yours. His eyes flicker towards the side, and through the tears, and through the spots, Alastor sees you as clear as day.

There's that small smile on your face as you squat next to him. Oh, my dear. You might actually die soon if you don’t do something about this.

Alastor can’t breathe. Oh god, he can’t breathe. Everything loses its color. It bleeds into one big blank of nothingness.

Alastor . . . Alastor?

It’s too dizzying. The desire to breathe burns his lungs. It begs for any mercy, for any relief, for any air. What can he do? Nothing. Just like when he was a child. Nothing has changed. No, that’s not true! Alastor didn’t have you before, and that simple face means everything is different. He reaches out for you, trying to say that he can’t brea—

Alastor, what’s your plan now?

There are no plants. There’s nothing . . . except you. Of course, it’s you. His brain is reverting back into its most basic of instincts, and it decided that you were his most basic instinct.

Well, what do you know?

Seconds—that’s how long Alastor has.

There are seconds of consciousness left. Precious second before he stops seeing you. Death wasn’t a problem – it’s never scared him before – but Alastor is a man of his word, and currently, he’s breaking the promise he made to you.

You’re rolling your eyes at him.

Alastor wants to summon the energy to tell you to stop it. Even in his mind you were infuriating, but . . . but, you’re smiling at him, and those eyes of your crinkl—

WHACK!

Air forces itself into his lungs in quick breaths. Alastor gasps for air, each breathing burns his lungs. The man crumples away from him, and those large hands leave his neck. That paralyzing tune of helplessness disappears.

You said you wouldn’t make me wait for too long.”

It’s . . . It’s you.

There’s a shovel raised above your head, coated in the man’s blood. Alastor stares at you—he stares at that eerily calm expression on your face. It travels up his spine with a chill, but it’s warmth that settles into his cheeks. It strikes him then and there. Alastor has never told you how beautiful you are in his eyes.

Just a second, that’s all he nee—

Alastor doesn’t have a second.

The man rises, clutching his head with fury written all over his expression. His eyes land on you, then the shovel, and the man charges in your direction with a bellow.

You bring the shovel closer towards your chest, eyes widen with frozen legs.

One, single step back – that’s all you’re able to take. Even then, it’s just not enough. The distance grows shorter, and every second Alastor spends gasping for air . . . It brings you a second closer to danger.

Alastor made a mistake, and this world will set ablaze with his fury, burning everything and everyone around him, if he allows this animal to touch even the smallest smile on your lips. It’s that precious to him, and that makes him dangerous.

Alastor stumbles across the mud, pushing himself past his highest limit for you and only you. Fire burns his lungs as air forces itself into his body. It spreads to the very tips of his finger, but Alastor cannot stop. There’s a reason to keep going. There’s a reason to keep running.

The man charges at you with speed, but Alastor has a reason to be faster.

Alastor tackles the man into the tree. A cry of pain rattles the leaves. He doesn’t know who it belongs to. It doesn’t matter, not to him, as long as it wasn’t from you.

What is he doing?

How . . . curious. The sweet tune of violent anger calls out, tempting him to give into his fury. Alastor’s never heard such a call before.

His fists go up and down and up and down and up and down. Each strike burns. The pain of split knuckles cannot stop him. All Alastor knows is that he needs to make this man suffer. Such violence should scare him, but he isn’t afraid – not one bit.

How dare this . . . this animal try to touch you. How dare he. How fucking dare he. Alastor will break every bone in his body, relishing in the cries of his screams. No, that wouldn’t be enough. Nothing Alastor could do will ever be enough to quell this burn. Not even death will be able to keep Alastor from—

“Alastor.”

The way you call out for him . . . the way you say his name in that oh, so soft voice of yours . . . It cuts through the burning haze. Not once has he ever had the ability to deny your calls for him.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

That’s blood dripping down his fingers. Each drop falls to the ground, and sinks into the earth below. It's funny, really. Alastor doesn’t know who the blood belongs to – it could be from his split knuckles or it could be from the man’s broken body.

What expression is he making right now? Alastor can’t bear to face you, not right now.

“Dearest,” you call out for him, and reach out a hand for him. “Come on, now.”

He takes a single step closer, and you mirror his movements. It’s like a funny little dance – the more steps he takes, the more steps you take – and this dance ends when you’re a breath away.

Alastor grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. “You were supposed to leave,” he says, and fuck! The tone of his voice automatically softens because . . . because you’re gripping on to him with fingers that tremble. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

This small part of him wishes he left you in that trunk. You were supposed to be in the car – safe.

The breathing part of him is thankful he didn’t. Who knows what would have happened to you if he died, and left his wife inside a car trunk. Oh, you would be furious at him! He would never hear the end of it.

Alastor takes the shovel from your shaking fingers, peeling it off your hold, and replacing it with his hand.

Despite that eerily calm look on your face, the way you tighten your grip tells him everything he needs to know – you’re more rattled than you’re willing to admit. Alastor traces your hand with the gentles of touches, sliding his fingers across your knuckles and into the back of your hand.

He brings your fingers to his lips, giving it the smallest of kisses. “I would appreciate an answer, my love.” 

“You were taking too long,” you say, plain and simple. As if that would answer all his questions.

Those eyes of yours land on his knuckles. There’s no reason to hide them from you, especially when you’re looking at him with that sad, sad, expression he painted across your face. It’s in the way your lips wobble, and it’s in the way your eyebrows furrowed together.

“I would never leave you.” You press your cheek into his palm, nuzzling into it even as blood transfers to your skin. “Nothing will keep me from following after you.”

Alastor swipes his thumb across your face. “Even to the depths of hell?”

“Even past that, my dear.”

You bring out a handkerchief from your pocket. It’s simple work, really – automatic, even – to dab on his wound, and wrap his knuckles with the softest of touches. You press a light kiss on top of it as if doing so would make it feel better. (It does.)

The tips of your fingers reach out for him. It’s instinct for Alastor to bend down at your request, and you push his glasses up his nose, fixing it in place with a smile.

Alastor pulls you into a hug, cradling your head into the crook of his neck.

The way you were looking at him . . . with that oh, so soft smile on your lips. Oh, you were such a foul creature! A second longer, and all this anger would fizzle out. That wouldn’t do – there’s still a job that needs to be finished.

Still, Alastor holds you in his arms until your hands stop shaking, and that grip on him loosens.

“Thank you,” he says into your hair. “Go back to the car. I’ll meet you there in a couple of minutes. I just need to finish this.”

“Is that a promise, my dear?”

“If you’d like.” Alastor traces his rings across your fingers. “I’m still expecting you to return my ring to me.”

A small wheezing breath catches your attention.

You tilt your head towards the side, eyes locked onto the way the man struggles to breath. That shing of curiosity lights up your face. The edges of your lips quiver as you hold your smile, and there it is—the lust of wanting to know more, the lust of wanting to explore the entrail of this man.

“Al . . .” You’re tugging on his sleeve with an elated sigh. “Al!”

Alastor humors your curiosity, leaning down to study your expressions. How truly precious, indeed. “Yes, my dear?”

“Al, he’s a smoker!” you say with such a bright smile that can rival the stars themselves. “I saw him smoking before you drugged him.”

“Is this your way of saying you want me to smoke more, dearest?” Alastor presses a kiss on your cheek, right where that line of blood stains your skin “Maybe then you’ll always smile at me like this.”

“I want to see his lungs.” You’re tugging on his sleeve again with such a curious and innocent expression. “All that smoke . . . Oh, Al! I’m sure it’s done something to his lungs. You’ve never given me a smoker before – only alcoholics! I’ve already shown you their livers, right? I can show you his lungs.”

It’s almost . . . cute . . . to see you ramble on about livers. What a life he’s living! Married to the most ridiculous person in the world, who smiles so brightly when talking about a dead man’s liver.

“You have shown me all kinds of livers, my dear. My favorite is still the one with the black spots.” Alastor doesn’t really care about the different appearance of livers but you care for them . . . and that’s enough for him. “I’ve even made it a point to drink less.”

“I want to see his lungs.”

“This one isn’t worth your blade, dearest. I’ll find you another smoker. Maybe a smoker and an alcoholic, too. There are a dime a dozen.” Alastor takes a step towards you, blocking your view of the man. “Now, now. I think it’s time you go back to the car.”

“But Al— ”

“I won’t repeat myself a third time.” Alastor squeezes your hand. “I’ve indulged you for far too long.”

It’s clear that you’re disappointed—that bright smile doesn’t crinkle your eyes. “Alright,” you say, and squeeze back. “Much better?”

No, not at all. The smile on your face is meant to conceal a frown. How ridiculous of you to try and hide it from him. Did you not think that he wouldn’t know what a true smile from you looked like?

Alastor presses a kiss on your cheek, allowing it to linger. The next kiss goes on your forehead, then to your other cheek. He continues his barrage all over your face until your smile turns a little bit softer. Then, and only then, does he say, “Indeed.”

You walk towards the trees.

“Alastor.” You still for a moment, turning back to him. “Will he suffer?”

“My dear.” Alastor places a hand on his chest, and bows a performer’s bow. “I think you’re forgetting who exactly your husband is.”

There’s that gentle smile on your lips, and Alastor knows better than to mistake it for kindness. “That’s good.”

Oh, these eyes of his! It lingers on you until the trees hide you into their shadows, and even longer after that. Alastor runs his fingers across the handkerchief around his knuckles, tracing the music notes you’ve carefully embroidered. (Alastor knows a secret that you don’t seem to realize; you only embroider music notes when you’re thinking about him.)

Alastor turns back towards the man, laughing as he watches him try his best to crawl to freedom – it’s quite admirable. The attempt nearly succeeded if it wasn’t for his wife.

That’s good.

The way you said it . . . with such a gentle smile as well—it’s sickening. It also crawls up his stomach, and settles some kind of warmth in his face. Alastor brings the handkerchief to his cheek, pressing against it.

What a ridiculous person, indeed.

Alastor hums a small tune that’s carried by the night wind, and presses his foot on the man’s back, collapsing him to the dirt.

“That was a foolish mistake to make.” Alastor smiles at the handkerchief around his knuckles. If anyone was being foolish, it was him – his mistake drove you out of the safety of the car. “That goes for the both of us, I suppose.”

Alastor picks up the shovel, twirling it like a cane. It hits him, then and there; he doesn’t know the name of this man. It’s too late to ask, either way.

“Lucky for you, I promised not to take too long. Ha! But don’t worry, I won’t be leaving too soon.” Alastor aligns the tip of the shovel above the man’s knee. “Let’s take care of that nasty habit of running away. Do your best not to scream too loud! My wife has sensitive ears.”

The shovel goes down, and a scream rattles the birds.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Alastor returns to the car, a bloodied mess.

It’s all over his dress-shirt, and it stains his vest red. Oh dear, some even got onto his favorite bowtie. His clothes would need to go up in flames. There’s no saving it. Except the bowtie – never the bowtie.

It’s cheap fabric, and something he shouldn’t even be seen wearing. Yet . . . Alastor always finds himself putting it on. He would never throw it away. Especially when you make so little, and buying this bowtie took quite a dent on your paycheck. It would take you months of saving just to buy him another one of equal quality, and even longer for something better.

So, Alastor keeps the bowtie.

He didn’t bother dragging the man back with him like he usually does, but he does leave him scattered around in pieces for the animals.

Oh dear!

Alastor must be quite the mess after taking a tumble. That’s mud staining his sleeves, and blood mixing with it as well. The smell must be horrid as well. He takes a moment, and runs a hand through his hair, trying to tame the stands that stick out. It doesn’t work. An irritated click on his tongue – he can’t go back to you looking like this!

Surely, you would . . . you . . . oh, you were worried for him.

It hits him all at once.

A small, giddy laugh warms him to the core. Alastor presses his face into his arm, hiding a smile that you couldn’t even see. Fuck! He runs another hand over his hair, and now, there’s now way he can go back to you looking like such a mess.

Alastor traces the music notes around the handkerchief once more. Another laugh – it’s louder this time, and it echoes across the trees.

Dear gosh, he needs to keep it together.

Alastor runs a hand over his face, calming his expression, and enters the car.

The moment he settles into the seat, you crash into him, clutching tightly even as the blood on his clothes transfers to you. “Home.”

Alastor wants to say something rather silly. With you here . . . well, he’s already home.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

What are we thinking, people? I still got my writing chops. Alaso, this chapter is supposed to be one big chapter titled Between the Glimpse and The Last because it's between parts 5 and 6 ( |Part 5: Glimpse of Me and You: Part II| and |Part 6: Radio’s Last Broadcast|) Next chapter will be a continuation of this scene. WHERE MORE FLUFF WILL HAPPEN. So if you've liked this, follow along. I'm not done with the Hurt/Comfort. Emphasis on Comfort. Maybe a little bit more hurt as well because this is almost right before 1933

[vodika-vibes]

Okay, silly ask and you can decline if you don’t do the pregnancy stuff! But I was thinking a Crosshair x reader where they were an item pre-O66, and then the Kaller and brainwashing happened and they went separate ways because, ya know, chip went: “yo kill your brothers those hoes ain’t loyal.” While they’re separated, reader finds out she’s pregnant, and Crosshair only finds out when he lures the rest of the batch back to Kamino and they’re in that training room.

(Bonus if the rest of the batch only found out semi-recently too because reader’s mentality was “okay, I’m pregnant, no biggie. I’ll tell them later when it actually becomes an issue” and Tech figured it out right away but never said anything either)

That's What Family Does

Summary: Being pregnant sucks. Being pregnant with the baby of a man who’s actively hunting the people keeping you safe is worse. The fact that you still love him is just the icing on the “bad year” cake. Still, you probably should have listened to Hunter when he told you to stay on the Marauder rather than risk Crosshair seeing you. Ah well, you’ve never been the best at listening.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F!Reader

Word Count: 1771

Warnings: Pregnancy and Childbirth, and complicated relationships

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly @kimiheartblade @mire-draws-things

A/N: So, I know next to nothing about childbirth, on account that I'm both childfree and infertile, so it's never been something that I had to worry about. So I did almost no research on this topic. Also, I've still never watched TBB, so I played around with...everything. But this has also been half-written for the better part of two weeks, and I just needed inspiration to strike me. Anyway, I hope you like it!

“You just had to come with us, didn’t you?” Hunter hisses as he shoves you behind Wrecker, “Why don’t you ever listen?”

“Because you’re not my mother,” You hiss right back at him, as you grab the over-large shirt that Echo’s been trying to shove over your head for the last five minutes and pull it on. It does…very little to hide your stomach. But then, the boys, and Omega, have only recently found out about your pregnancy. And only because you finally started showing and couldn’t hide it anymore.

Needless to say, Hunter and Echo weren’t thrilled about the sudden surprise. Wrecker was torn between excitement and dismay. And Omega…well, she’s been bubbling with excitement since she found out.

“Great, now we have to keep anyone from finding out that you are 8 months pregnant with a clone baby.” Hunter grouses, “Omega, stay with her.”

Omega nods rapidly, and wraps her arms around you, “I’ll bite anyone who tries to touch her.”

Absently, you pet Omega’s head and glare at Hunter, “Well, if you don’t say the words ‘clone’ and ‘baby’ next to each other, no one will ever know.”

“Yes, because your relationship with Crosshair was the best-kept secret on Kamino,” Hunter replies, deadpan, “there’s absolutely no way that anyone will ever figure out that you're pregnant with his baby.”

“Okay, tone down the sass, Mister. It’s not helping.”

Hunter grabs your shoulders, “You irk me. You’re irksome.”

“Hey! I’m pregnant, you can’t talk to me like that!”

For a moment, you think Hunter is going to shake you, but he stops when Tech taps his back, “He is here.”

Abruptly, you’re shoved back behind Wrecker and Echo, nearly tripping over Omega who’s still wrapped around you, and you only manage to catch a glimpse of Crosshair. 

His face is pinched and angry-looking, and you see his hand twitching towards his blaster.

Oh, you really hope that this doesn’t turn into a firefight. You don’t want to have to explain to your baby how they don’t have a dad because he got himself killed.

That would be awkward.

The nice thing is you’ve sped through all five stages of grief, and have just accepted that Crosshair isn’t the man you thought he was. And here you thought you were going to need, like, so much therapy to come to terms with it.

“Hunter.” Crosshair’s voice is cold. Colder than you’ve ever heard before. 

“Cross,” Hunter sounds tense, and you feel a pang of guilt. He wouldn’t be half as stressed if you and Omega just stayed on the ship. If you get out of this alive, and, you know, not a prisoner of the Empire, you should make him some apology cookies.

There’s a tense silence and Wrecker adjusts his weight slightly. You can tell by his body language, Echo’s too, that if this turns violent, the pair of them will remove you and Omega from the scene. Then again, that does tend to be their job most of the time.

“I assume you’re here to surrender.” Crosshair says. You know him better than anyone, you can tell he doesn’t believe a word coming out of his mouth. 

Hesitantly, you peek around Wrecker and Crosshair sees you immediately. His sharp gaze lingers on you for a moment, and you see something like regret flicker across his face, though it vanishes as soon as Echo shoves you back behind Wrecker. 

“You have to leave the doctor behind,” Crosshair says flatly.

“No,” Tech says immediately.

“She belongs to the Empire.”

“Technically, my contract is with the Republ—” You counter, indignently.

“Stop talking!” Hunter, Tech, and Echo say in unison and you close your mouth without finishing your thought.

Hunter glances at you, and then at Crosshair, “She’s not a slave, Crosshair. She can come and go as she pleases.”

You can hear the argument continuing in the background, but you’re not really listening anymore.

Something doesn’t feel right.

And then you’re slammed with a cramp so intense that your legs nearly buckle. Your hand lands heavily on Omega’s shoulder and you exhale sharply. “Are you okay?” The little girl whispers, doing her best to not draw too much attention to herself…or you.

“We need to get back to the Marauder.” You say though clenched teeth.

“That’s the plan, but—”

“Meg.” You interrupt her, “I’m pretty sure I’ve just gone into labor.” You keep your voice very, very calm, not wanting to scare her, but she stares at you with wide eyes.

“WHAT!?” The men stop arguing at Omega’s panicked shout and turn towards her. “You…you can’t! It’s too early! You’re only 8 months!” Omega continues, her voice pitching high in her panic.

You don’t answer her. Can’t answer her, really, because you’re too busy trying to breathe through the waves of pain that kind of make you want to cry, scream, and throw up all at the same time.

You’re pretty sure you’d sell all of the clones on Kamino for some pain medicine.

You’re also pretty sure that that’s the pain talking and you’ll feel bad for having that thought as soon as you’re no longer in labor.

The waves of pain fade enough for you to recognize that your boys are in the middle of panicking around you. Panicking and not helping you.

Great.

Lovely.

Super.

You reach out and grab Wrecker’s forearm, “I need to get to a bed, preferably on the Marauder, because if I have to give birth in a training room, I’m going to murder all of you.” You say through gritted teeth.

And then Crosshair is there, his gaze lingering on your stomach, and if you were feeling even remotely charitable you’d say that he looks guilty and hurt.

But, you’re in so much pain right now that you really couldn’t care less.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant?” He asks.

You grab him by the collar of his armor, “I am in the process of pushing a watermelon out a hole the size of a lemon. And it’s all your fault.” You snap, “I need to get to the Marauder.”

“...you know it takes two people to make a baby, kitten—”

The string of curses that fall from your lips after his comment, is enough that the boys push themselves into high gear and then rush you back to the ship. 

24 hours of hard labor later, your babies are finally here.

And you finally know why you went into labor early.

Turns out you were pregnant with twins. Twin girls, to be specific.

Right now they’re sleeping in a cradle that Echo stole from Kamino, wrapped in a black and a red blanket specifically.

So far, Hunter, Echo, Wrecker, Tech, and Omega have come to meet the babies. But no Crosshair, though you know he’s still on the ship.

Hunter said that Crosshair refused to leave while you were still in labor. And now that they’re born, he wants to raise them with you.

It’s a nice thought, you suppose. Aside from the whole “wanting to kill his brothers” thing.

Plus, he still hasn’t come to meet the babies.

You tilt your head to the side as one of the babies yawns widely and then falls back to sleep. You hear the door slide open and then shut again. When you look up, you see Crosshair standing, awkwardly, at the door.

He’s dressed in his blacks and isn’t armed.

Hunter probably told him no weapons in the medbay. He’s a good brother-in-law, you’re lucky to have him.

“They’re cute.” Crosshair says as he walks over to the babies and peers down at them.

“They look like wrinkly potatoes.” You correct.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to say that?”

“I just spent 24 hours pushing them out of my vagina. If I want to call them potatoes, then I’m going to call them potatoes.”

“Ah,” He’s quiet for a moment, “Are you…okay? There was a lot of blood, Tech said.”

“Yeah, well…he had a bunch of my blood stored up for this scenario. Just in case.” You admit with a shrug, “I’ll recover. I’m going to be weak for a while though.”

“What are you naming them?”

“...I dunno. I was only expecting one baby, not two.” You pull your blanket up higher, “You’re such an overachiever.”

“...I’m sorry?”

“Whatever. I’m too tired to be properly angry.” You pause, “We are going to have to talk, Crosshair.”

He rubs the back of his head, “Yeah. I know.”

“You walked away.”

“I know.”

“And it was easy for you to do. How could it be so easy for you to walk away?”

He sighs, “I’m sorry.”

“Would you have even come with us if I didn’t go into labor?” You ask.

Crosshair shakes his head, “I don’t know.” He pauses, “You’re mad.”

“I think I have good cause to be mad, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess.” He’s quiet for a moment, “A condition of me staying with you and the twins is getting the chip out. And no weapons until they’re sure that I’m not going to try to hurt anyone.”

“Let me guess…Hunter?”

Crosshair nods, “He’s very…protective.”

“He always has been. But Hunter was the one who let me cry on his shoulder when you walked away. He might be a bit angrier at you than anyone else.”

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

You shrug, “Well, you did.”

The pair of you fall into a, slightly, awkward silence, and then you sigh, “Luna.”

“Sorry?”

“The twin with the silver hair, I’m going to call her Luna, I think.” Crosshair blinks at you, and then glances at the babies, finally noticing that one of the babies has his coloring, while the other one has yours.

“And what about her sister?”

“Don’t you want to name one?”

He looks momentarily surprised, and then he glances at the baby who looks like you, “Willow. I want to name her Willow.”

You tilt your head curiously.

Crosshair doesn’t acknowledge your silent question for a moment, and then a small smile lifts the corner of his lips, “The first date we went on was a picnic under a willow tree.”

“...I’m surprised you remembered that.”

“It’s important.”

You watch him for a moment, and then laugh softly, “Alright. Luna and Willow, then.” You allow your gaze to linger on Crosshair as he looks over the twins, and your smile widens.

The both of you aren’t okay. There are a lot of wrongs that need to be righted. But…well, he’s here. And you can’t help but think that that’s a step in the right direction.

[cipheramnesia]

I'm trying to wrap my head around this shit based horror movie, because I've never seen anything like it.

I've seen poop used for shock value or as a joke or even as a set piece but I haven't really come across someone who made shit the center of the film. The whole premise hinges on the idea that the protagonist had some kind of gut biome disease, which drives people around her into a state of murderous rage. The condition gets worse over the course of the film both in terms of how rapidly the violence begins, and also how much pain the protagonist is from the stomach disease.

What I find striking is how seriously it plays things out, from the on-going and escalating paranoia of the protagonist, who is also constantly falling in and out of reality-questioning delirium, to the veracity of reactions excrement. It's difficult to put into words, but the shit scenes manage to convey the bone deep exhaustion that comes with wanting to use the bathroom easily, and not being able to. It's not a movie trying to express shit as "ew gross" but instead as this essential part of the human body which can go wrong in genuinely upsetting and awful ways.

It suffers a bit from budget issues - the acting isn't great, sets are obviously people's homes in many cases - but it manages to succeed thanks to taking material that could have easily become juvenile and ironic, and treating it seriously (also a solid lead actress). It's a movie that ends up being about how openly hostile the world can become when you have a disability, especially one which crosses social taboos as much as bowel issues does. About how quickly friends and strangers can turn on you when they discover your problems are related to excrement, and they might have to deal with that. And of course about what people who are disabled are expected to endure just to be treated like a human.

It's still muddled. It's a B- movie that's taking A-level swings and hitting most of the time. And in some ways I almost wonder if the small production value and budget actors are why it succeeds. I don't think even a low but not microbudget production would have been allowed to be so unflinching and get away with shooting as something that can be a source of genuine terror and unhappiness.

Anyway it's called GoodBi (2022, bi as in biome, sorry bisexuals), and it's on Tubi. Obviously this one is not for the weak of stomach, but there isn't much gore.

[randomfanner]

Gale + Tara Headcanons

I love Gale so much. SFW Headcanons only, relationship and also just general life headcanons I have about the worlds saddest oxymoron.

Labeled TW: Gale got groomed. We are going to be discussing today Because even if he was an adult(which he probably wasn't) he still got groomed because Mystra had so much power over this man.

General TW: Gale has self hatred issues. I hate Mystra. We will be talking about Mystra in depth I promise. Also Gifted kid burn out and general tying all of your self worth to a talent.

So, body type head canon because Gale does not have abs. You cannot look me in the eyes and tell me Gale has abs. He is soft and a little squishy and very huggable.

Man is a cuddler. He always wants to cuddle. Whether it be you two be lounging on a sofa, each reading/doing your own tasks well you snuggle together, spooning in the morning, laying together after a night of passion, or whatever reason he can get to just hold you in his arms.

I think he is touch starved other than Tara. Which as great as Tara is it is not human touch. And gods don't... really physically touch. So I don't think he got very much physical affection from Mystra. So being touched, being held with your hands and feeling your flesh on his means so much to him.

He doesn't think he is good at it. But he still really likes to do it. If you ask him to cuddle with him, he will flip in his heart because it makes him the happiest man in the world to know you want to cuddle with him as much as he wants to cuddle with you.

Tara likes you. She likes you fast. She begins telling you all of Gale's stories from when he was younger, how sweet of a boy he was and how he would use his beginning magic to help people. If you give her attention she will purr so loud. Gale and Tara both really like chin scratches.

She begins calling you "Mrs/Mr/Mrx. Dekarios" pretty damn quickly. she has accepted you as his partner which she never did Mystra. it really throws Gale off when she does it. He admittedly thought Tara was so against Mystra because she was a lover period.

Tara also may begin to favor your lap. If this happens, Gale is... shocked and disappointed "You have stolen not only my heart, love, but my Treyssem as well." "Would you like to repeat that, Mr. Dekarios?"

And he wonders why she favors your lap.

She also favors you lap because she has to thank you for keeping her sweet boy alive for her. She may even allow you the honor to stroke her stomach a few times.

She also brings you gifts, magic items, trinkets, carcasses, whatever she can get her paws on and thinks you would like.

She takes you in fast and begins asking for grand babies. She wants grand babies and Gale's mother wants grand babies. The topic of course make your flustered each time and Gale denies the possibility of being a good father, but Tara is pretty insistent.

Morena also loves you as well and you best believe she is showing you pictures from Gale's childhood and telling you as much information as she can. Poor Gale just sits there and is extremely flustered well she recounts even his less flattering tales... but he does nothing to stop it.

He is really happy his mom and Tara both like you. It makes him the happiest man in the world.

Gale likes to cook for you. A lot. He cooks the fanciest, gourmet food and he is extremely good at it. He will set up fancy candle lit dinners with music in the background. This is basically every night but he tries to make sure it never truly loses its luster. (It never does).

He also makes you breakfast in bed. He has to crawl away from you in the morning to feed Tara and so he just makes you breakfast and comes back freshly deserved.

If you cook together man is smiling so much his jaw hurts. I cannot describe to you the joy he feels having you by his side, helping him cook.

Expect so much love poetry all of the time. Even when you are questing or not he will just slip a small piece of paper into your hand with all of his affections written down as poems.

He also quotes poetry verses that make him think of you, to you, at random times. He is hoping to make you smile with all of them.

Gale is so sweet to you all of the time. He treats you like you are divine, and to him you are. Complete gentleman all of the time. He does not carry anything. You could be a fighter with a 20 in strength with thighs and arms that could crush his fucking head like a grape, He will still insist on trying to carry anything heavy for you. He holds doors, pulls out chairs, makes sure your wine is refilled. He is so doting.

Man feels guilty that he is doing so little to help you at times. He wants to do more for you then he does. He tries to make sure you are pampered at all times. Kisses, gifts, fancy shows, lovely nights together.

But he tries to do more. he always makes sure to protect you in battle. He will take attacks, using shield and mage armor to make sure he can take as many hits as needed to protect you. He will be your knight in magic armor, a dashing smile well he does so.

This often leads to the ES(Emergency Shadowheart) because Gale is an over-confident wizard but if you are safe he doesn't care. If you are meant to be a tank, you may need to have a chat with him about the fact he is the squishy wizard man and you can protect him.

But it is Gale.

If you get sick or injured or anything Gale is fretting over you. He is holding you and yelling for Shadowheart like you are going to die at this moment. Even if it is a small thing he is very dramatic and very scared of losing you.

When you get sick or are on your period he makes sure to give you medicine to help with illness and pains, magic hiding the taste, and so much good food.

Tara also rests on your lap and acts like a heating pad. Purring and trying to help you feel better.

So like, after the ending I think Gale and you take a break from everything and just, go and look around. And Gale takes a break from magic. He can still love the art, and he will go back to it but I just think he needs to take a step back because magic and his talent for magic has kind of defined Gale his entire life.

I think him taking a break and just... being a person rather than a wizard for a little a while. He can be both, he knows he can. But he will need time and a deep breathe. He will go back, he loves to do magic. It means the world to him. But absences makes the heart grow fonder. And I think working on other skills he can be proud of and knowing Magic is one of the many things he is good at rather then the ONLY thing he is good at will do him wonders.

So I am going be talking about Gale's trauma a lot in the lower half of this. First, Gale's confidence issues and how fucked up the orb is. There will be comfort with Tara and you. After that we are going to get into the problem. The problem will come up in this section, however not the fact Gale got Groomed. That will be another different section.

Warning out of the way:

I think his self confidence and self image is being held together by the type of "I am good at magic". He was a prodigy and I think Gale only saw worth in his magic and his skill on it. He loves to do it too but at the same time he HAS to be good at it, or it feels like. He respects people who are better.

He did fuck up with the orb, but I also think he wasn't fully aware of what he was getting himself. Yes he should have known not listening to Mystra was a bad idea, but she didn't explain exactly what he did wrong until Gale talks with her in the game. This is years later.

Gale really needed Tara after he went from Mystra's Chosen and the Lover of Mystra to a fool who flew too close to the sun and came crashing down in a brilliant display of horrible glory. Man ruined his life, lost everything, and had a problem that Mystra gave him no ideas how to fix.

Mystra DID NOT EXPLAIN ANYTHING TO GALE UNTIL THAT CUTSCENE IN GAME YOU GET AFTER MYSTRA TELLS GALE TO BLOW HIMSELF UP. Gale was kept alive due to Tara. Tara was the one who flew off and found out how to help Gale.

I also think the only thing Mystra valued with Gale's magic knowledge and abilities. She is a goddess, she doesn't really eat human food, Tara and Mystra didn't each other, she is a goddess and I doubt physical touch was common.

So I think Gale being rude to you about magic, especially if you are a different class who can do magic and he insulted you, is because the is grasping with issues of trying to remind himself he is a good mage. This does not excuse his behavior. But I think when he realizes what he did he is going to apologize whole heartedly

One day he is just thinking about how you first met and he just realizes 'I was awful!"

He is going to hold your hand to his cheek, and apologize for doing that. Because you make him realize that he is more than his magic. He is more then what he has been called talented for and tied everything too for so long.

He isn't a failure if he fails with his magic.

Don't get me wrong, Gale can get ahead of himself and is pushy. I want to flick him in the head as soon as he begins thinking trying to become a god is a good idea in the first place. It is a horrible idea as much as I hate Mystra, don't want Gale to become a god. He deserves to be a good man with his wine, his library, his treyssem, and, should fates permit, you.

So, we are going to start talking about Mystra being a P*dophile and just the worst emotional manipulator. When we get to talking about it I am not censoring the word.

This is the end, I am not putting anything else below this. You are free to move along your day, you will not miss out on any of the good stuff. I promise.

This is the only notable part of this: I want Withers to be the god of Magic. He would be a great god of magic, he proves with Arabella.

So, Gale was like, 17 to 23 I believe the range is. And even if Gale is in the later half of that, he still got fucking groomed by Mystra because Mystra had and still has so much power over Gale.

She is the goddess of his greatest asset. His magic. And as we just discussed, the goddess of the thing he ties all of his self worth to. Mystra was literally someone he worshipped. She IS the goddess of magic. Gale had no power in the relationship and never did.

Mystra knows this. She is smart enough to know what is doing is fucking horrible, and get it, she is a god, but she is also a straight up pedophile. We all know about the fact people LITERALLY HIDE THEIR CHILDREN FROM HER.

I do not doubt that being Mystra's chosen meant doing everything she asked. I don't think Mystra took no for an answer in any matters. I also think mistakes were punished with emotional manipulation. Not violence like we see with Shar or Vaalikith (She sorta counts) but gods did he make Gale feel worthless if he failed.

I think Gale feels guilty for a lot of things a lot he shouldn't feel guilt for. I think one of the biggest things Mystra would make Gale feel guilty for was talking to basically any one else if it was not a work relationship.

I would not doubt if Mystra cut Gale off from his mother and would have from Tara if Tara was anyone else. Mystra is noted as a jealous goddess if you are dating Gale. I do not doubt that jealousy was a pretty frequent thing.

Tara hates Mystra with every bone in his fluffy body and tried so hard to talk to Gale but Gale would not listen to her because, well- she is his boss, his teacher, his lover and also the person who controls the thing he ties his self worth too of course he is going to listen to everything Mystra said.

Also Mystra 100% cut Gale off from any source of help he could actually get. Again, Tara was the one to find out about the orb. And I think more than just shame, embarrassment and being a laughing stock from one of the greats, I think Mystra made sure no one was going to be talking to Gale.

I want DLC where we beat the fuck out of Mystra. I really want to kill her. I know I cannot but she is terrible and she deserves death. I know I am captain obvious right now but I cannot stress this enough.

I want Withers to be the god of Magic. He would be a great god of magic, he proves with Arabella.

[jasperhaleobsessed]

Comfort

Jasper Hale x Female Reader requested by anon.

Summary: Hi, I don’t know if this breaks your rules, but I just started my period and it’s really been beating me up! I went looking for some fanfics of Jasper Hale comforting a femreader while she’s on her period. I know Jasper has issues with blood, but seeing the reader in pain may help with him get over that to help her? I don’t know I just need some comfort/fluff because I’m in pain lol. Thank you <3

Notes: I hope I fulfilled what you wanted but if you would like me to write it in a different way or something else let me know! I tried to get it done today since you sounded like you needed it! Also anon I hope you feel better, I know it sucks I've been there and done that! Hope you enjoy! <3 May contain spelling errors sorry!

Warnings: Talks of periods, cramps, tylenol, etc, etc, etc.

Word count: 1k

Y/N’s POV

I was hunched over rubbing my stomach hoping that it would relieve some of my pain. Currently I am experiencing awful cramps due to my period and to say the least it sucks. I decided to get up and get some medicine to hopefully ease some of my pain.

I walked slowly downstairs. My joints and other parts of my body ached so my movement wasn’t as swift or steady as it normally would be. I decided not to dwell on that fact and headed for the kitchen to get some tylenol. I want to feel better as soon as possible so the sooner I can take this medicine the better. As I walked into the kitchen My mom smiled at me sympathetically, “How are you feeling honey?” She asked.

“Not great.” I mumbled. She leaned forward and kissed the top of my forehead, “I hope you feel better sweetheart. I’ll be in the living room if you need anything.”

“Thanks mom.” I gave her a weak smile.

I grabbed a cup from the cupboard, poured some water in it, and quickly grabbed the tylenol bottle and headed to my bedroom. As I was walking upstairs I swore I heard something but I looked around and there was nothing there. I peeked in the hall area and downstairs and again nothing was there. I felt like I was going crazy. Why did I hear? I felt annoyed but decided to just get back to my comfy bed and to not worry.

I positioned the tylenol in my arm so I could push my door open and it made a creeking sound as it opened wider. I saw something that made my heart leap out of my chest. Jasper. He was sitting on my bed, his back was straight and his general posture seemed rigid like he was in pain. What's wrong? I guess he was the one I thought I saw. But why'd he gotta scare me like that? Something is wrong. Definitely very wrong.

I carefully step into my room. My heart was beating rapidly. He quickly turned to meet my gaze. His eyes were coal black. I put my water and tylenol on my nightstand. “Are you okay?” He asked, his expression was full of worry. But his expression also conveyed pain.

“I'm fine Jazz.” I croaked. My voice came out a lot less smooth than I would have liked. He immediately moved to my side cupping my cheek, his face was inches away from mine. “Please don't lie to me. Something is wrong, I can feel it.” His eyes darted around, looking me over worryingly.

He spoke up again, “I can smell blood but I don't see anything physically wrong?” He sounded like he was talking to himself rather than me.

I grasped his arm, I had finally caught on. “Jasper this is kind of embarrassing but um…”

“But what?” He questioned. I stayed quiet for a minute. He sent a wave of calm emotions through me. He caressed my cheek lovingly and encouragingly.

“I'm on my period that is why you smell blood.” I felt my cheeks flush. He sighed, “I'm glad you're not injured or dying.” He rubbed my hair affectionately. “Me too.” I murmured. I hugged him tightly, wrapped my arms around his waist.

My breathing calmed after a minute. I stayed quiet for a second but then spoke up and said, “Perhaps you should go. I don't want you to overexert yourself.”

“You want me to go?” He asked, he looked hurt.

“Well no of course not. I can just tell you're hungry and-” He cut me off.

“Are you scared of me?”

“No, I'm not scared of you! I will never be scared of you. I just don't want you to feel like you have to stay when you need to feed. I don't want you to feel like you have to stay. I don't wanna be a burden. “

“You will never be a burden. Yes I should probably go but I am not leaving you all alone when you need me.”

He then continued, “Now get into the bed so I can cuddle you.” I beamed at him. I moved to my soft bed and he moved to the other side. I snuggle into his chest. I felt content, perfectly at ease as if I felt no stabbing pain in my stomach.

Silence filled the air and I couldn't help but think back to the conversation we had only minutes ago. And suddenly I thought, “Why'd you scare me?” I asked.

“What do you mean scare you? I thought you said I didn't scare you?” He questioned, he suddenly moved his shoulders away as if he would move at any moment.

“Oh not that I meant why were you sneaking around?” I mentally smacked my forehead. I should have elaborated.

“Oh that I never meant to scare ya. Sorry Darlin’ that was not my intention.” I giggled at him.

“What's so funny Missy?” He questions with a quirked eyebrow.

“You!” I say with a goofy smile.

“Really?” He questions, but then he suddenly a smirk appears on his beautiful features. He started to tickle my sides and I let out more soft giggles and squeals.

“How come you came? Did you know I was hurt or something?” I asked.

“Alice started to tell me but I didn't let her finish.” He looked at me sheepishly. I let out another giggle. “I heard something was wrong so I came as fast as I could even if I could risk hurting you I had to make sure you were alright.”

He then continued, “If anything were to happen to you I don't know what I'd do.” He lifted my chin to meet his gaze. I felt my heart skip a beat as I looked into his honey colored eyes. A smile graced his face and he slowly leaned forward and kissed my lips.

After a minute I moved away and said, “Nothing is going to happen to me. Clearly me breathing and snuggling into your chest is testament to that. You do have control, you just have to have more faith in yourself. Give yourself more credit, love.” His smile widened and he hugged me softly, I already felt much better. I felt at peace in his strong arms that wrapped around my figure. My eyes started to feel tired and I laid my head against his chest and I fell into a blissful sleep. I guess I didn't need tylenol after all, all I needed was my angel of a boyfriend.

The End

[hughiecampbelle]

Nausea (Billy Butcher Oneshot)

Character/s: Butcher

Word Count: 1,349

A/N: This is a re-upload bc the first time I posted it I got self-conscious and deleted it lol. It's just not my best writing, but I feel like I have to get it out. Just me writing about my issues again! I still have no idea what's going on, but all the same diagnoses come back from the first time (uc/crohn's/celiac/gastroparesis) and it's so infuriating. My doctors don't know what's wrong and my family, who I love, just think it's nerves. I don't think my very graphic symptoms are nerves 😅 I have so many remedies by my bed, it looks crazy. I haven't slept well in a few days bc of the pain, but I'm also so afraid of not being believed again, it's a vicious loop. Okay I swear I'm done complaining! Thank you for putting up with me!!! 💜💜💜💜💜💜

He knows when it’s happening. There is no great show or performance. There is no crying or whimpering. No one else would even notice, but he knows the signs. Albeit too late, but he does. You’re quieter, withdrawn, hand over mouth, hoping this will stop the nausea. Deep, even breaths: breathing through it. When that is not enough, when that stops working, you slip quietly out of the room and into the bathroom. He tries not to notice how long you’re gone. Mere minutes. It feels so much longer. Someone snatches his attention from you and suddenly, you’re back. You reappear as if you were never gone. You offer a smile, a joke or two, a sense of normalcy, but beneath you’re stomach is churning, clenching, radiating pain through your middle. You only let him tell a few people, who you’re sure told everyone else. Still, none react besides him. He doesn’t say anything, to do so would draw attention. That’s the last thing you want. Instead, he moves towards you, casually, standing beside you. Close. You can feel his jacket on your arm. Worn and scratchy. Familiar. He looks at you and you offer him a small, insignificant nod. That’s as far as he’ll get to asking if you’re okay. That’s as far as you’ll let him when you’re working. 

Its been happening on and off for years. Off, for a long time. You thought it was over. Gone. Dead. It’s come back, though, an uninvited guest. This sudden pain, this distress, this mystery no one is curious enough to solve. When they looked, they found nothing. Said you were fine. You were embarrassed, hurt, questioning if it was all in your head. Eventually, you moved on. Things got better. You believed them. And now it’s back. A fullness, nausea, pain, weight loss. You can’t be in the apartment while he’s cooking. The smell repulses you. The taste, too. You can’t eat, afraid you’ll be sick. Again. He urges you, please, something more than your morning coffee, but you cannot handle it. Everything you try you end up spitting out: everything is gluey, everything is profoundly unappetizing. Hiding in the bathroom away from the scent or leaving altogether, it’s put a rift between you. Meals that were safe turned poisonous. Entire food groups cut off unwillingly. It’s been days. Your stomach growls, but that is a trick. You try to ignore it, hide it, knowing what he will insist. He watches you. You can feel it. You don’t say anything. It’s easier this way, not to fight, not to argue. This is a hill you will not die on. He does what he can, pouring your coffee, grateful you at least have that. So far, it doesn’t cause problems and it keeps you full. That’s all you can ask for. 

He wants you to get looked at, checked out. You refuse. You were so sick, so scared, and they told you nothing was wrong. You were constantly doubting if this was even real, then and now. If they didn’t find anything, if they didn’t have the answers, you’re not sure what you’ll do. You can’t be doubted again. You can’t be looked at and deemed dramatic. You knew the pain was real. Why did you have to prove it? Why did you have to show them when they refused to believe you? So, you keep it to yourself, far from friends and family. They congratulated the weight you lost. Said you looked good. Remind them you were petrified to eat. You were smaller and that’s what mattered. It’s worse at night. Lying beside him, you push from him, untangling his arms from around you. A trash bin by your head, waiting for it to pass. If things are bad, really bad, you’ll lock yourself in, on the floor, praying for it to go away. He wakes up to an empty bed night after night. The pain wakes you up. You have nausea patches, and losanges, and a heating pad he is constantly rewarming. If you lay very still, perhaps you can trick it. Play dead. Hours you’ll spend curled in a ball, wondering what it was that you ate that set it off, that made it so angry. Was it the time? The combination? You were down to drinks with minerals and vitamins, hydrating agents to keep you going. Baby food. Liquid diet. You missed food. You missed having an appetite. You missed cooking. But it wasn’t worth it afterwards. Immediately or hours, the nausea, the pain, the discomfort invites itself back into your life. 

Butcher isn't a natural worrier. There isn't a lot that scares him. But this? This leaves him petrified. There is something wrong and no one will listen. You try to shrug it off. It was so much worse all those years ago. It was excruciating. This, if anything, is a walk in the park in comparison. Uncomfortable sure, but that's all. It's not Vought or Homelander, that he can protect you from. That he can stop. Your body working against itself? That he can do nothing about. It isn't fair. It isn't right. And yet, there is nothing to be done. The tests they did were inconclusive. Why risk it again? Why waste your time? You assure him soon it will be gone, a few days, maybe a few weeks. Last time it was six months. You swallow that time like a prison sentence. Six months. You could do it again, if you had to. You could manage. Maybe by then they’d take you seriously. He wanted to yell and scream, at them. Order them around, insist they help, but would that even help? More tests, more waiting. By the time it would be your turn, it would have gone into remission. Loved ones would hypothesize, becoming doctors themselves. Their favorite diagnosis? Nerves. You weren’t anxious, or nervous, or worried. You were wasting away. You were spending your nights trying not to throw up and your days doing anything to prevent discomfort. Even certain clothes, too close, too constricting, were off the table. You couldn’t stand the way they looked at you, everyone but Butcher, wondering if it was physical or mental. He heard you, he saw you, he knew this was all too real. Why couldn’t others? 

You're more tired, exhausted as soon as the sun starts setting. You lose a lot of hours at night, in the early mornings, praying to anyone who will listen that you’ll wake up tomorrow and it will be gone. That you will be fine again. That it really was all in your head. Falling asleep in the car. He tries to avoid bumps in the roads, potholes, not wanting to wake you. Your attention straining: it's always there, in the back of your mind, at the back of your throat. It sits deep in the pit of your stomach and it mocks you. When you finally do complain, just a little, when it's too much, he knows it's really getting bad. He's helpless all over again. The people he's loved, the people he's lost, he can't risk it. Not again. Not with you. There’s little can do, though. There’s little anyone can do. This is not someone he can kill, this is not an organization he can take down. This is chronic, spontaneous, vengeful. It has no rhyme or reason. You let the mask slip every so often. You’re scared. Scared of what they’ll find, scared of what they won’t. He reassures you, whatever it is, you’ll figure it out together. You trust him, you love him, but you can’t do that to him. You can’t be a burden. You body is your own to take care of. So, you throw up in the bathroom, and wear your patches, and make your jokes. You tell him it’s a three, always a three, on a scale from one to ten. You can’t let him worry, he’s got enough on his plate. Yours will remain empty until, hopefully soon, it goes away just as it has appeared.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Teens and kids with long COVID are showing surprising new symptoms - Published Aug 21, 2024

Rose Lehane Tureen is one busy teenager.

The 16-year-old is class president, an Irish step dance champion, singer, cross-country runner and straight-A student at her high school in Maine.

Her accomplishments belie the reality that she suffers from a debilitating headache that has lasted for more than four years, one of the several long COVID symptoms she's endured since an infection in March 2020.

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At the beginning of her illness, Rose went to the emergency room half a dozen times and was hospitalized twice with dizziness and blinding head pain. She also had red and swollen fingers, toes and ears; peeling skin; joint pain; problems controlling her temperature and terrible dreams.

She lost years of her life to long COVID and is trying to make up for it.

“I had to decide if I wanted to wither away on the couch in the dark or push through and do things that made me happy,” she said. "I'm reclaiming what it's taken and trying to live my life."

Rose is one of the estimated 5.8 million children in the U.S. with long COVID, many of whom have not been diagnosed because doctors, parents and patients fail to recognize the constellation of symptoms, experts say. A new study funded by the National Institutes of Health aims to arm families with information, identifying the most common long COVID symptoms in school-aged children and teenagers.

“Children aren’t just little adults,” said Dr. Melissa Stockwell, the study's coauthor and division chief of child and adolescent health at Columbia University. The more providers understand how long COVID impacts people at different ages, the easier it will be to diagnose children and provide prompt care.

Long COVID symptoms in kids, teens The study included 5,300 younger school-aged children and teens from more than 60 healthcare facilities across the U.S. between March 2022 and December 2023.

Researchers found teenagers between 12 and 17 were more likely to report fatigue, pain and changes in taste and smell, whereas, younger schoolchildren between 6 and 11 were more likely to have difficulty focusing, sleep problems and stomach issues, according to the report published Wednesday in JAMA.

Long COVID symptoms affected almost every organ system, and most patients reported symptoms that affected more than one part of their body.

In the report, younger school children and teens commonly reported back or neck pain, headaches, lightheadedness or dizziness and trouble with memory or focus. The study authors were also surprised to find that shared symptoms among the younger children included phobias, specifically the fear of crowded or enclosed spaces, and refusal to go to school.

The symptoms that showed up in younger children were less likely to overlap with symptoms experienced by adults with long COVID. The authors said this underscored the importance of age-based research.

“The symptoms that make up the research index are not the only symptoms a child may have and they’re not the most severe, but they are most predictive in determining who may have long COVID,” said Dr. Rachel Gross, the study's lead author and associate professor of pediatrics and population health at New York University Grossman School of Medicine.

Rose could have benefited from this research in 2020. It took more than a year to find doctors who would take her cluster of symptoms seriously. She eventually found that team at Boston Children's Hospital.

“I went from running a junior Olympic qualifier to being unable to walk,” Rose said. “It was dramatic and confusing.”

Missing 'whole boat' of data Despite the new research, health experts say a great deal is still unknown about long COVID.

For example, most of the data from the study comes from patients who were infected with earlier COVID-19 variants, not the latest version of omicron, said Dr. Alexandra Yonts, a pediatric infectious disease specialist and director of the post-COVID program at Children’s National Hospital in Washington, D.C.

The study suggests kids infected with omicron are less likely to develop long COVID, however, Yonts argues there isn't enough data to support that theory since omicron hasn't been on the scene long enough to allow for robust long COVID data.

"If we’re looking at kids that have been newly infected (and) what is their risk of becoming long COVID patients?" she said. "We’re missing that whole boat."

Authors of the JAMA study say their next research will be long COVID symptoms in children 5 and under. Yonts said the most urgent need for these patients is access to post-COVID clinics that specialize in identifying and treating lingering symptoms from a COVID-19 infection. She said these types of efforts are beginning to close down across the country due to a lack of funding and support.

"These are such complex patients," Yonts said. "It's hard to find a multidisciplinary team that can define those symptoms and support them."

That's why Rose, a California native, eventually moved with her family to southern Maine so they could be driving distance from Boston Children's Hospital, where she visits the long COVID clinic at least once a month. In addition to doctors at the hospital's specialized COVID clinic, she's seen nearly a dozen specialists including a sleep neurologist, acupuncturist, gastroenterologist, endocrinologist, rheumatologist and cardiologist, among others.

Rose is disheartened that post-COVID clinics are shutting down for patients like her, but not completely surprised. She sees the world moving on from the pandemic, but she's still in pain. She hopes the JAMA study brings renewed attention to the condition.

"There’s this illusion now that lockdown is over, that COVID is gone," she said. "It’s really, really difficult and invalidating for all the people with long COVID – especially children."