#as always sorry for being gone for so long

[angelltheninth]

When Arcane Men Get Jealous

Pairing: Viktor, Jayce, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Finn, Marcus, Loris, Steb x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, jealousy, possessive behavior, being protective, kissing in public, biting, holding hands, public display of affection, canon typical violence, suggestive

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Would die if they were jealous over me. Melt into a puddle. Gone.

When Viktor gets jealous he gets a bit more withdrawn than he usually is. Not that he was ever a social butterfly, however he was always more open and happy to talk when it was with you. So his behavior is odd, he even seems to get quieter whenever you walk into the room. Like he's trying to remove himself from you with silence.

"I am not avoiding you. Look, there has been a lot to do for the past week, I'm sorry if you got a bad impression but I was simply busy. If you want more company, go ask Jayce, or Skye, I'm sure they will be more than happy to entertain you, darling."

Viktor is short with his answers, saying as little as possible to minimize the amount of time he spends talking to you. Not because he doesn't want to talk to you, he loves talking to you, but if he keeps talking there's a chance he might say something he's going to regret. And end up hurting you.

"There you go again with these ridiculous accusations. You won't leave it alone will you? So now it's my fault that your project is running late? I would have been happy to help but someone was too busy talking with... you know what, nevermind. You're right, we both have a lot to do, so let's just drop this conversation and focus on work."

If you keep getting in the way of his work, Viktor will eventually come to a breaking point. Him not being able to work is only adding to his emotions, and he's never been the best at dealing with them. While he doesn't exactly yell at you, it's very rare that he ever raises his voice there's a notable frustration in his words, and pain, fear that you'd leave.

"If I'm being so unreasonable then leave. Go. Have fun. I know it's not idea to be cooped up in the lab all the time. There are so many more things to do out there. if you... want to go with other people I suppose I can't stop you, nor can I stop my own jealousy. How am I being even more unreasonable? I know you wouldn't leave me without talking about it. Look... I do not... want you to leave, working is more fun with you. But am I truly all that you want? Me? This lab? Because you're all I want. All that I can think of."

When Jayce gets jealous he keeps invading your personal space when you're around the person or people he's jealous of. His behavior is nothing innapropriate or pushy. It's just his arm around your waist, just him bringing you that drink you wanted, just him bragging about you a bit too loud and saying how much he loves you.

"You really are great, babe. How in Runterra did I ever find a beauty like you huh? What's that bashfulness for now, I always praise you, and I'm never gonna stop. You're my girl right? I can be a proud boyfriend and talk you up every once in a while."

Physical affection a big deal to Jayce and a way he shows he cares but also a giveaway to his jealousy. He holds your hand longer, his eyes flicker between you and the one he's jealous off, his smile is a bit more nervous when he has to leave you alone. Then there are his kisses, not as gentle, not a little, quick peck on the edge of your lips but a real kiss, lips pressed against yours until you let him know you need air.

"Got a bit carried away there. Ah, sorry, I can't resist you sometimes. All the time. Do you expect me to when you wear lipstick like that? Makes your lips look like they're made to be kissed. By me specifically. I'd kiss you all night long, for the rest of our lives and never get tired of it."

Jayce keeps denying that he's jealous when you bring it up in a teasing way. Logically there's no reason to get jealous, everyone knows your relationship is doing great, in fact you're hardly ever fighting and even when you are it doesn't last too long. How does he turn that part of his brain off? How can he not get jealous when all those people look at you the way he looks at you?

"They're always looking at you. How can you not notice? It's so obvious. You don't notice because... you're only looking at me? That doesn't even make sense! Of course they're looking, you're breathtaking everywhere you go. I just hope that wherever you go, you'll always take me with you, because I want to be by your side forever."

Ekko often jokes about being jealous so you don't pick up on him actually being jealous. A little jealousy is fine but not when it's getting in the way of his missions and operations with his team. He'd been a bit distracted in the past, by one of the Firelights flying too close to you, so he pushed his way between you two.

"It was the formation! Which you would have remembered if you weren't too busy chatting. Come on, Firefly, get your head in this. Otherwise you're gonna make your leader jealous. Wouldn't want that right? What if... what if you get demoted for it? Hey! Ow! I wouldn't demote you, who would listen to all my plans?"

When you have free time together Ekko makes sure to spend as much time with you as possible. If you're together all the time there's less chance that someone else will swoop in and flirt with you. He would never describe his behavior as being clingy, all he wants is to spend free time with his girlfriend. That is perfectly normal behavior.

"What do you say we go out to get some food? We don't have to spend all our time here. Not like the tree is gonna burn down if we're away for a couple of hours right? Besides it's been a while since it was just you and me all alone. Miss being alone with you. Don't you miss it too?"

If the person he's jealous of ever puts you in danger in any way Ekko will go off on them. Harder than he scolded others in the past. He might let some of his jealousy show then, but he storms off, well flies off before you can talk to him. As much as he wants to be alone he also makes room for you on his hoverboard when you float down next to him.

"Shouldn't have went off on them like that. I know, you don't gotta say it, I'll say I'm sorry. Let cool off a bit. You'd think that if they were flirting with you that much they could have been looking out a bit better. I'm always looking out for you. Maybe a bit too much. Sorry if I've been weird about it lately. Would you forgive me if I took you on a romantic hoverboard ride?"

No one wants to piss off a big man like Vander by flirting with his wife. Everyone values their life and their bones too much. But... they stare at you. Quite openly actually. You see it, and you bet he sees it too. He sees everything that's happening at his bar and he won't stand for someone ogling his wife, even if he has to get aggressive about it.

"It's my damn bar, I've got the right to break the table with their heads when they're looking at ya like that. Tell ya what, a lot more people would avoid this place if I started beating up every asshole that looks at ya wrong. Only reason I don't is cause I don't want ya to be mad at me after."

He hasn't banned anyone from his bar in a very long time. Vander knows he tolerates a lot, this is Zaun, and some people don't have the best manners, that's not exactly their fault. But on the other hand if they start something with him then he will finish it. When he tells them to stop looking at you like you like you were one of Babette's workers and they get in his face he will pick them up and throw them out.

"Bastards had it coming. I tried to be nice, then they had to go and call ya names. Ain't no way in hell I'm gonna let anyone insult my wife. Not here, not on the streets, not anywhere. I went there and I wanted to talk to them, tell them to fuck the hell off, they were the ones who started getting violent. So I responded in kind."

Vander calls you over to the bar a bit more often if he sees a particular table is trying to monopolize you. He carries some of the drinks over, the food plates too, or he simply walks up behind you when one of the guys is getting flirty. Seeing his imposing, huge frame behind you, his muscles bulging, is enough to get most to back off you.

"See, darlin', I can talk things out just fine. When people are being smart about it that is. Might have to stop selling so much booze in this place, then they won't be so bold with ya. Ya are a pretty sight, I can't say otherwise. But ya are a pretty sight for me, not them, ain't that right? Mhm. I know, I'm all yer's too."

Silco never ever says he's jealous of anyone. He is the most powerful man in all of Zaun, everyone is scared of him and with good reason. As the Eye of Zaun he knows when people are looking, talking too, and might even try to touch you. Those people are often payed a not so nice visit by his men.

"I did hear about that gang, yes. It's very unfortunate that they don't know how to keep their noses where they don't belong. It's not that big of a loss on our end. There are a hundred people who can do their work, and better. All that matters is that they won't even have to think about not touching you again."

He rarely has to get his own hands dirty when he gets jealous. All it takes is him saying who the target or targets are and he makes them dissapear from Zaun. That doesn't always have to be deadly, but if they're really dumb it is. If Silco feels that you're in some kind of danger then he will keep you close by. He tries to distract you from seeing he's jealous.

"All I'm saying is that we could take a break from work. Sevika and Jinx can handle a week of it. And you and me can lock ourselves up in our home and not come out. The bedroom works perfectly fine too, if you'd rather spend our time in there. And what is it that I'm doing, darling? Jealous? You are an observant one. I wouldn't want you any other way."

The only time Silco will threaten someone in person is if that someone is bold enough to flirt with you in front of them. He can scare people within an inch of their life just by talking to them, he's not just a good businessman, and some people tend to forget that. He has Zaun in the palm of his hand, and everyone in it.

"He did not actually piss himself. Did he actually. Hm, I wasn't look at him anymore to be honest. He was spineless, surprising given he talked to you like he did. Guess he was thinking with his other head a bit too much for his own good. Why are you looking at me that way? Ah, I see. Looks like someone enjoyed watching me put a scumbag into his place a bit too much."

Since Finn isn't someone who would take anything lying down he will be damned before he sees someone coming onto his woman and not do anything about it. He might have a certain charm about him but that doesn't mean he's not ready to makes heads roll the moment when someone crosses any kind of line with you. Imaginary or otherwise.

"Hah, did you see that doll? As soon as I threw one punch he went down. All his buddies ran like rats. Left him all alone there. After all that tough talk and he couldn't even defend himself. Serves him right. He's lucky all I did was break his nose when he flirted with you. I wasn't even that far away."

Finn will make out with you in front of who ever he is jealous of just to prove a point to them. And while he has you moaning, has your head buried against his neck and your body running hot he will look at the other person and stick his tongue out at them, right before making a V with his fingers and putting his tongue between them. He's vulgar but it gets the point across very well.

"All these people looking at what's mine. Now, I can't have that right? I love that you're showing off your body, it's a great body, you know how much I love it. But sometimes I want to keep you away from prying eyes. And if I can't the least I can do is give them a show. Make them know I'm the only one who can touch you."

His jacket is a signature part of his outfit, but Finn will let you wear it. Hell, he will walk over and drape it over your shoulders while not even looking at whoever you're talking to. Sometimes they're not worth looking at when he can look at the pretty way you blush as you touch his hand that's lingering on your shoulder.

"Thought you looked a bit cold there. Keep this on all night. Later on I'll help you warm up my way, a much more fun way. Don't even worry about your perfume getting all into this, love having your scent all over me. And by tomorrow you're gonna be wearing all of my marks."

There are a lot of people in the Enforcers who tease Marcus about having such a pretty wife. He knows you're pretty, but he doesn't like that the department is noticing it so much as well. Not that there's any way for him to hide it, or that he wants you to hide it, that would be a real crime.

"I was not pouting. That is so childish. I was glaring at them. Well, they were the ones who stared first. You visit me at work, like that's such a big deal. We're married, honey, I pick you up from work too. Why is it such a big deal here? I think they're just trying to get a rise out of me."

Won't deny that he's feeling jealous or shy away from showing it. When Marcus notices any of his men flirting with you he makes them work extra hard that day, he gives them more paperwork, something that everyone hates there, or assigns them to the toughest jobs that he knows will take them days to complete. He can't help but chuckle when you visit again and they're too tired to flirt with you, they just say hello.

"What do you mean I'm picking on them? Of course not. You know how hard it is to deal with all these extra cases. Someone has to take on a few more. No, the fact that it's the same Enforcers who gave you flowers that one time has nothing to do with it. You think it does? And do you have evidence of this accusation?"

Marcus isn't shy about kissing you in front of the whole department. If that's what it takes to send them all a clear message to back off. It's always perfectly chaste kisses, but he does make sure that everyone hears him say he loves you when you leave. He smirks when eyes turn to him and he wishes them all a good rest of their day.

"Now you call me petty. All of these accusations and you still don't have any evidence. That's not a very good way to have a case. You've been keeping count have you? Oh. You... actually have been keeping count? I'm guilty? Fine, you got me, you got me. Maybe... that was a little petty of me, but I'm not sorry."

Every time Loris is jealous it's almost impossible for him to hide that fact. He's a big guy, nothing about him is easy to his, not even his emotions. And he's loud, so every time he huffs, mumbles something, or grunts you hear it. Your eyes meet and he looks away, his hand grasping yours and running his thumb over the back of your hand.

'They were staring at you a bit too much for my liking, pretty girl. If they were as tough as they pretend they were they should have held their ground more. Proves they were all bark and no bite. People like that really get on my nerves, and then they talk to my girl like she's single."

Loris invites you to have lunch with him quite often, even more often when he gets jealous of someone who works with him. Dealing with them in any other way would be unprofessional of him, and might get him in trouble. This way he gets to avoid that, avoid them, and spend a nice lunch date with you. No matter how you look at it he's the real winner here.

"Looks so good. But if you keep looking at me like that I might get hungry for something else besides the food. Just try shifting the blame on me when you know exactly how you're looking at me right now. I wouldn't risk it at work, but... if you showed up with a few hickeys on your neck it might get the rest of the department to stop flirting with you."

As much as he tries to make his jealousy go away it's not easy. Loris knows he should be an example for others, after all he had been an Enforcer for a long time, he can't just let his emotions get the better of him. Hard to keep those emotions down when they concern you. If nothing else works he will intimidate people. Easy enough for him. But he would rather that be a last resort.

"If he wasn't ready to throw fists and words at me then he shouldn't have thrown flirty words at you. He should be able to back himself up if he's gonna be saying stuff like that. All I did was pick him up and throw him outside. Hey, I might get in a bit of trouble for it, but at least he'll leave you alone from now on. I'd risk my badge for you if I have to, you know that."

Since he is the quiet type Steb shows his emotions and jealousy is one that he works hard to surpress. Every time he notices that someone is standing a little too close to you he walks over and looks at you, lovingly, then he looks at the other person with a glare, a deadly one. All the while he's standing shoulder to shoulder with you.

"Come now, angelfish, they weren't even worth your time. We both know they only had one thing in mind when they were talking to you. I could see it in their eyes. I don't appreciate that they looked at you like that. And I know you don't either. So I felt like I had to step in."

He is very physical with his jealousy. Steb lets his eyes and touches linger a few moments longer when he wants to make a point to someone. While he knows you don't hate it he also doesn't want to come off as too jealous or too possessive over you. You can take care of yourself and he loves that about you, he's watched you put people in their place often, but there are times where he can't hold himself back.

"I could feel your fingers interlocking with mine. You wanted me to stand close to you when they weren't leaving you alone. Would you have raised your voice if I hadn't walked over? It would be amusing to see it. But I think those kisses we shared also sent an equally powerful message. You didn't have to bit me though."

Steb nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck when he's feeling really, really jealous of someone. He makes it look less possessive than it is, pretending like he's overhearing something you have to say, and then pushing himself just a little bit closer. His cold lips make contact with your neck, sending shivers down your body before he brushes your lips with his thumb and leaves with a smirk.

"That ought to be enough. I could have done more but marking you in public might have been a step too far. We can enjoy things like that in private however. I enjoy being close to you in any context, and if it makes others realize you're not looking for anyone because you've already got a man then I enjoy it even more."

[littlelamy]

thinking about rafe being more involved with sarahs life after the baby and spending time with them and taking the kid to school or maybe picking the kid up and seeing reader who is a teacher and they flirt or maybe it’s parent teacher conference and rafe tags along with john b bc Sarah can’t make it and him and reader are cute and flirting

the late afternoon sunlight filtered through the classroom windows, painting golden streaks across the desks and scattering soft shadows on the floor. it was quiet now, the hum of kids long gone except for a few stray drawings left forgotten on tables and the faint creak of your chair as you leaned back, scanning through a pile of spelling tests.

the knock on your classroom door startled you, pulling you out of the mundane rhythm of grading. when you looked up, you expected john b, who had mentioned he’d be dropping by for the parent-teacher conference. instead, you saw him. rafe cameron.

rafe leaned casually against the doorframe, one hand shoved into the pocket of his jeans, the other gripping the strap of a sleek leather backpack. his usual cocky smirk softened into something more polite, almost uncertain, as his eyes swept the room before landing on you.

“hey,” he said, his voice low and warm, like he wasn’t entirely sure he belonged here but was trying anyway.

“hi,” you managed, your surprise fading into curiosity. “can i help you?”

“i… uh, i’m here for the conference,” he explained, stepping further into the room. “sarah couldn’t make it, and john b roped me into tagging along.”

you blinked, trying to reconcile the guy who had a reputation for being a little too reckless, a little too intense, with the man standing in front of you. “oh. yeah, of course. take a seat. john b should be here any minute.”

rafe nodded, sliding into one of the kid-sized chairs with an amused grin. “man, these chairs are tiny. no wonder kids are always squirming.”

you laughed, the sound light and unexpected. “yeah, they’re not exactly built for comfort. you’ll survive, though.”

he raised an eyebrow, leaning his elbows on the desk as he looked at you. “is that a challenge?”

before you could respond, the door swung open, and john b burst in, his usual whirlwind energy filling the room. “hey, sorry i’m late,” he said, dropping into a chair beside rafe without missing a beat. “traffic was insane.”

“it’s fine,” you assured him, pulling out the folder with their child’s name neatly printed across the front. “shall we get started?”

the conference itself was straightforward, mostly you going over their daughter’s progress, showing off some of her artwork, and sharing notes about her strengths and areas for growth. but every now and then, you felt rafe’s gaze on you, steady and curious, like he was trying to figure you out.

when the meeting wrapped up, john b stood, stretching. “thanks for taking the time. sarah’ll be thrilled to hear everything’s going so well.”

“of course,” you said, offering him a warm smile. “she’s a great kid. makes my job easy.”

john b nodded, then glanced at rafe. “you coming?”

rafe hesitated, his eyes flicking to you. “uh, i’ll catch up. i just have a quick question.”

john b smirked, like he knew exactly what was going on, but didn’t say anything as he left, leaving you and rafe alone.

“so, a quick question?” you prompted, arching an eyebrow.

he grinned, leaning back in his tiny chair. “yeah, just wanted to ask if you’ve always been this good with kids, or if it’s something you picked up over time.”

you tilted your head, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. “a little of both, i guess. i’ve always liked working with them. they’re honest, you know? no filter. keeps things interesting.”

he nodded, his expression thoughtful. “yeah, i can see that. you’re… you’re really good at it. i mean, i could barely survive babysitting her for an afternoon, and you do this every day.”

you laughed, feeling a warmth creep into your cheeks. “it’s definitely not easy, but it’s worth it.”

there was a pause, the kind that felt like it held something unsaid, and then rafe stood, towering over the kid-sized desk. “anyway, i should let you go. but… maybe i’ll see you around?”

“maybe,” you said, your smile lingering as he made his way to the door.

but before he left, he glanced back, his smirk returning. “or, you know, if you ever need a break from grading papers, i’d be happy to grab a coffee or something. on me.”

you raised an eyebrow, fighting the grin tugging at your lips. “i’ll think about it, cameron.”

he chuckled, giving you a small salute before disappearing into the hallway, leaving you alone in the golden light of the classroom, your heart fluttering in a way you hadn’t expected.

lamy's notes: i wouldn't mind doing more fics about rafe x teacher!reader! i hope you liked it!!

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesbabygirlx

[wholemeallbread]

... TOXIC BOYFRIENDS AND EXES / ꩜

with ... nagi seishiro, itoshi rin, isagi yoichi x gn!reader

warnings ... cheating (rin), fem love interest (rin), lying (rin, isagi), parental issues-ish (isagi), nagi is just a bum (nagi), tiny emotional manipulation (isagi)

part one reo, sae, oliver

"SHE'S JUST A FRIEND" ꩜ ITOSHI RIN

you've known for quite a while that rin has had a... worrying childhood, to say the least. you're also aware that someone else has been his guiding light through his early teens, but is now long gone in the past. or that's what you thought. rin has been silent after hearing the news that his childhood "friend" recently moved back into town, but it's obvious that something else is going on.

especially when he's been visiting a certain house multiple times per week without telling you.

you've been aware of it for longer than he thinks. the moment you texted him "where are you?" instead of asking him to come home, he switched off sharing his location for good. he'll tell you he's just on a jog, but he's said it himself that he doesn't like bringing his phone because its too heavy. it becomes obvious when she starts coming to his games, waving and catching all of his attention while wearing one of his jerseys. you would know, because you accidentally stained one of them when you wore it.

even worse when his own brother that was miles away texted you, asking if you and rin were together. how did he even get your number? and why did rin not tell him you were already years deep into a relationship? oh, rin said he's stuck between the person he loves and the person he trusts? well, that shouldn't really be a question, should it? he should love and trust you, why is there somebody else that he could "pick"?

the break up was mutual. you could tell he was upset about it, but not as much as you, and you wonder why... maybe it's because he ended up in a relationship with said childhood friend only days later. you don't mean to pry in their business, but it's hard not to when you realise everywhere they go together, you've been with him before. this time, he's holding her hand, he's not hiding from the camera, he's smiling. rin has never smiled for you before. it hurts, it really hurts, but you're glad he didn't let things drag on. at least there's something left for you in his heart.

if he didn't love you in the first place, he should've just let you know from the beginning. it seems like you were some sort of test subject for his future.

BABY SYNDROME ꩜ NAGI SEISHIRO

nagi always puts in the bare minimum. you figured "maybe he puts in more effort for things he's passionate about?". well, one certainly is football; all of a sudden he has enough stamina to run a marathon and actually use his strength. since you're dating, he's passionate about you too, right?

keep lying to yourself. it's always you reaching out first, it's always you having to go to his house, it's always you waiting outside of his classrooms. on more than one occasion have you called him, been ignored under the thesis of "i'm too tired to talk, maybe tomorrow." and then being left on delivered for the next twenty four hours. and the cycle repeats over, and over, and over again. the last thing you wanted to end up being was a second reo (sorry to him, he's a lost cause) but when you're having to put his socks on for him like a toddler, unwillingly after he begs for help, that's where you draw the line. he's not a grandpa, and he's not sore. why would he need help?

it was unsurprisingly easy to break up with him. he let you go with ease, and it's not like he was going to argue to make him stay. one less person makes one less hassle, right? afterwards, it's inconvenience after inconvenience for him. now nobody wakes him up in the morning, or helps him with his missing homework, or does all of the work on group assignments so he can go "train". who's going to cook for him now? because it's not you or reo, and ordering takeaway is too much work.

nagi texted you to ask to get back together. you asked why. he said "it makes both of our lives easier". hell no.

MAMA'S BOY ꩜ ISAGI YOICHI

isagi is such a good boyfriend. honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if he was the one you ended up marrying. he's sweet, his parents are sweet, everything was perfect. was perfect.

you don't know where or when you messed up, but isagi's mom doesn't seem to like you that much anymore. was it how you got awkward and didn't know how to respond? no, usually his dad helps you through conversations. were you a bad influence? no, surely not. isagi knows his own standards, and sometimes his attitude is worse than yours.

nowadays, isagi looks a bit nervous when you ask to come over. your usual routine together was completely disrupted. you can tell he's subtly avoiding you or keeping conversations brief. he doesn't even hold your hand when you're walking around school anymore. this man willingly used to sprint from your period to the other side of the school just to make sure you got to your class safely, and now, nothing. and why is he wiping his hands with disgust when he's the one sweating buckets? he would've apologised if it was his fault, so it's something to do with you.

"hey, so... my mom doesn't want us together..." well, excuse you? he's stuttering, trying to come up with excuses, but you don't even want to hear them. having your healthy relationship broken up by his mom? and what if you married him hypothetically? would he willingly divorce if his mom said to do it? you know he still loves you, judging from his longing glances and half smiles in your direction. you know it wasn't completely his decision. but if he really loved you, then creating a barrier between the two of you when she wasn't even around didn't make sense at all. he would risk his life for you, but not disobey her loose commands.

on some random important day, valentines or whatever, he tries to ask you out. he wants to "start over". can you even be angry when he looks so remorseful? coupled with flowers, your favourite sweet treats and everything... oh, you swear you can see tears in his eyes. maybe you'll think about it.

[sarahsangelicdoll]

‘𝑜𝒽 𝓂𝓇 𝒸𝓊𝓅𝒾𝒹, 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝒶𝓂 𝒾 𝒹𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽?’

༯ Summary: After a fight with his dad on valentines eve, mr cupid decides to direct JJ to your house

༯ the cupids enchantings event

a/n: had fun writing this :)) lowk had me smiling giggling and kicking my feet 🤭

༯ Content warning: Child abuse, cringey confessions lmao, descriptions of blood and wounds, possibly too much detail in reader disinfecting JJs wounds 😅, not explicit but just long, overall fluffy.

JJ’s feet were moving. Just moving. He had no idea where he should go, Kiara’s parents would never let him in. John B was gone off wherever for the night. Heyward would maybe let him stay over, but they were too far and it was pouring outside.

Then, while walking he spotted an all too familiar cabin like house. Surprisingly looking nice and in good condition for being on the cut. Flowers decorating the front yard, well kept and cared for grass that seemed to shine a bright green despite being dark and gloomy out.

The window at the front of the house was bright, illuminating a bit of the front yard and JJ could see your form sitting on the couch. As if the light and your presence was guiding him, he found himself just in front of your door without even realizing it.

You and JJ were part of the same friend group, however not particularly close. JJ always tried to keep his distance from you- ‘no pogue on pogue macking’ is what he always said, although he started doubting the rule whenever he was close to you. JJ cared to much for his ego so he would rather ignore you then risk his feelings getting the better of him. Everyone caught onto the fact he was avoiding you- it was painfully obvious. But JJ constantly brushed it off as if they were overthinking.

JJ sucked in a deep breath as he stood outside your door. The pain in his cheek, nose and forehead was overbearing and he had a particularly bad cut on his cheek. He glanced over your figure that was sat on the couch, your knees brought up to your chest as you watched TV and stirred whatever drink you had. He almost felt too bad to knock at your door- you two weren’t particularly close and here he was about to bother you with his issues. But just as his mind decided his body was going to turn and walk away, his body retaliated and knocked on your door, no backing down now.

JJ could hear and see the illuminated light move as you got up, probably confused as to who would be knocking on your door not only in this weather but at this time of night. His breath caught in his throat once he heard the door unlock and open.

Your breath also caught in your throat- not necessarily at seeing JJ of all people at your door, but at seeing the state he was in. Bloody nose and forehead. His cheek bleeding too much to be left by itself. And the realization that this was most likely the work of his father. How a father could do that to their own son? you had no idea.

You sighed, quickly knowing what this situation was, attempting to hide the pity in your eyes as to not bother JJ. “C’mon..” You mumbled. Moving out of the way and motioning with your head for JJ to come in.

The blonde reluctantly walked in. For some reason not expecting you to seem so… calm. Maybe it was just his anxiety talking and saying that you’d be upset at him for disrupting your peace. “Sorry.. just.. had nowhere to go..” JJ grumbled as he took his hat off and fiddled with it in his hands. His hair messily falling over his face.

You walked past him and into your kitchen, not understanding why he was apologizing. “It’s fine, better here than some random place or your house.” You said, giving JJ a soft smile as you grabbed some cloth from a drawer and a variety of disinfectant sprays, followed by bandages. “Want a hot chocolate maybe? Got some strawberry hot chocolate for valentines.” You offered, trying to ease the discomfort in the room.

“Uh.. yeah. Sure.” JJ said, attempting to appear nonchalant despite the fact your presence was making his heart do leaps. The way you effortlessly eased the tension, the way your presence was free of any slight hint of annoyance, the way your presence was filled with silent understanding and care.

“K, made with water or milk?” You asked. Setting the disinfectant items down on the counter to reach up for a cup.

JJ’s brows furrowed slightly at your suggestion. Milk? why the hell would you use milk? “Waters fine.” He said, smiling awkwardly as he shifted his weight onto one of his legs, standing in one place as if you’d get mad at him for moving.

You looked over at him, smiling softly as you chuckled. “You can come over?” You said as if it was a question. Flicking the kettle on. You watched him walk into your rather small, isle like kitchen, leaning your back into the counter and crossing your arms across your chest.

JJ eyed your kitchen. It was nicely organized and had not new items, rather old ones, but you clearly took care of them. He stopped just next you, placing his hat down onto the counter as he mimicked your own position. “So ah uh… what are you watching?” He asked dumbly, as if the sound of mean girls wasn’t very much clear in the background.

You chuckled, leaning up off the counter and towards the cabinet as the water started boiling. “Mean Girls.” You replied simply, well aware of how awkward JJ felt. After all, the two of you weren’t close.

You grabbed a small, pink chocolate heart out of a pack of four, one now two due to your own hot chocolate and JJ’s own, and put the pack away. Turning back to the kettle you pulled out a mug from the rack of drying dishes. “Wanna watch something else?” You asked. At the click of the kettle, signifying it was finished boiling, you took it off its little plate and poured it into a mug, following by dropping the chocolate heart into it.

“No- it’s fine.” He said, watching your movements and how the heart of chocolate, tinged with the flavour of Strawberry, started melting into the cup.

You hummed as a reply. Handing JJ his mug and grabbing your tools for cleaning JJ’s wounds. “Come,” You said simply as you made way for the living room. You stopped at your couch, turning on the lamp that rested on the couch side table. Sitting down you rested your back against the arm of the couch, sprawling out the items in front of you.

JJ sat down on the other side of the small couch, criss-cross applesauce style, looking at the array of bandages and disinfectant stuff. He felt that they were un-needed, but he knew that it’d be useless to say no. So he simply let you arrange your stuff. He took the cloth from your hands once you handed it to him, looking at you questionably. “Hold it onto your cheek to stop or lessen the bleeding.” You said simply with a small smile.

JJ did as you said. Wincing at the feeling but holding down nevertheless. His eyes glanced to the tv that was the only other thing, next to the bedside lamp, illuminating the room. His eyes trailed back down to you. You were pouring a bit of Hydrogen Peroxide disinfectant onto a smaller cloth. The other items you had were baby wipes, bandages and white petroleum lotion. JJ couldn’t help but smirk at your dedication to cleaning his stupid wounds. Always so thoughtful.

After about a minute you pulled out a baby wipe, smiling softly as you reached up to pull his arm down and started cleaning the blood and guck around the wounds, being particularly careful on his cheek. JJ glanced down awkwardly, attempting to ignore how his heart fluttered in his chest.

Next, you picked up the cloth with the disinfectant. “It might sting a bit.” You warned before placing it down onto his cheek. JJ almost flinched away but didn’t, instead hissing in a breath. You gently wiped at the wounds before bringing the cloth down and folding it. Grabbing the bottle of disinfectant and spraying it on all three wounds.

JJ flinched again, moving away from the spray. “Jesus is all that really necessary?” He asked as he ignored the irritation swelling on the wounds that mixed with a stinging sensation.

You chuckled at his words, letting the spray sit for a couple seconds before bringing the cloth up to wipe away all the pus and guck that started forming on top the wound. “Yes it is. So that it can prevent infection.”

JJ couldn’t help the blush that formed on his face as he finally looked at you. Seeing the unyielding focus and care in your eyes. He could feel the warmth of your body on his and you were the closest you ever were to him. His heart did flips when he heard your quiet sigh as you pulled away the cloth and reach down for the white petroleum lotion.

You opened the cap of the lotion and poured a bit onto your finger. Closing the lid with your knee you plopped the bottle back down, dapping your other finger into the small bit on the tip of your right pointer finger, before diverting your attention back up. You smiled as you locked eyes with him; missing the way he was looking at you with nothing but love and adoration.

You gently placed the bit of cream over the wound on his forehead, forming a thin layer. The white petroleum also stung a bit but not as much as the bloody hydrogen peroxide.

JJ watched you, admiring every bit of your face and focused expression. He was feeling himself grow increasingly more confident and wanting to do nothing but just say how he feels out loud in this exact moment.

You moved your finger back down to get a bit more of the lotion before placing it onto the wound on his nose. “Sorry if it hurts a bit, almost done. Just got your cheek next and then bandages.” You said, your voice half distracted with focus.

And that’s when it came out; “I love you.”

Ok, JJ had to admit that was a tad bit of dramatic- but it left his mouth before he could even think about it. The words left him in a quick breath. He gulped as he watched your eyes widen and your movements freeze. Your own breath catching in your throat. It took you a couple seconds to process what he said before you let out a breathy chuckle.

“Bullshit.” You said chuckled, dapping your finger into the lotion again, gathering more this time as you shifted to the wound on his cheek next. “You’re just feeling emotional because all the stuff that happened tonight.” You said simply. Attempting to ignore the way your brain was hoping he was being 100% honest. How much you yearned to be this close to him and hear him say those words.

JJ didn’t know what it was tonight, but he was feeling very bold in this moment. He leaned away from your touch just as you finished applying the thin layer. He took your hand in his as he looked at you with an expression more firm than before. “No. I mean it completely y/n- You just… have such a comforting presence and i’ve actually liked you for a long, long time but i didn’t wanna break my.. “No pogue on pogue macking” rule so i started avoiding you.. but right now i could care less about that stupid rule, honestly.” JJ rambled on, only stopping to catch his breath.

“But i mean it, so so much y/n. I really like you and.. i want to be with you.” He finished, his face flushing once he realized how out of character he was sounding- and how abrupt it was with a tad of dramatics.

You stared at him in shock, letting his words sink in. And once his words did finally sink in you had to bite back a grin. “Really?” You asked, hating yourself for sounding so giddy.

“Really.” He replied nodding. Now attempting to appear nonchalant. But he couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face just as a wide one spread on yours and your lips landed on his in a matter of seconds.

Your hands found way to his face. Your touch gentle as to not hurt his bad cheek. JJ leaned into the kiss as his hand found your own cheek, rubbing soft circles onto the soft skin.

Once you two finally pulled away JJ looked down on you, a cheeky grin quickly forming on his face. You quickly grew a matching grin as you pulled away. Grabbing the bandages as you attempted to appear nonchalant. “You seem happy.” You teased. Looking back up at him to place a bigger bandage on his cheek.

“I would say you look equally as happy princess.” he teased back. Noticing the way your cheeks flushed even more at the nickname that he hasn’t used on you in forever.

“Well maybee you’re right.” You replied. Placing a medium sized bandage onto the wound on his forehead, followed by the smaller one on his nose.

Once you finished bandaging his wounds he took your hand in his, leaning down to place a kiss on your hand. “Ain’t nothing to be embarrassed about princess.” He said. Attempting to fluster you even more, however you weren’t having it.

“I guess you’re right. After all i wasn’t the one who rambled on like a weirdo.” You teased back, poking him in the chest with your finger. Smirking as you saw your attempt at flustering JJ work. You got up, throwing the stuff you used onto the couch side table. You then grabbed his hands and dragged him up, making way for the bigger couch that sat a couple feet away from the tv. “Now stop talking and watch the movie with me, I’ll restart it and it can be our own lil late valentines date.”

⟡ ݁₊ . written by sarahsangelicdoll, 2025 on tumblr! © do not repost on any third party website or repost as yours. Doing so will result in me blocking you and reporting.

༉ taglist: @hvnlygrl @tashiagalinda @littlxpxtal @starsval @rafestoothbrush @subconsciouscollapse @marleymarleymarleymarley @riaras-everthroner

tagging muts: @rafesheaven @personapeters @bloodibambiidoll @cameronsprincess @moonlightrafe @winnie1emon

[reidsmanuscript]

Meet the Minds

Summary: 4 years after that one time in a bar, on how your character Criminal Minds was born, and maybe how something else was also borned. Pairing: mgg x actress!reader Genre: friends to lovers?, fluff, mutual pinning TW: Public Scrutiny/Fame, reader has severally parents issues, plus they are passive aggressive but it's short i swear, brief mention of cheating, mgg takes a minute to appear i know im sorry, long introduction wc: 3.7k! A/N: hopefully someone will understand what I'm aiming for with both of my dear !readers, this is with the solely purpose to treat myself i fear Masterlist!

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Since that one time in a bar it has been 4 years. Your show City Lights has gotten big. And when you say big, it was BIG, and so did you.

You were wrapping up the third season of the show, with a renewed contract for the next season in hand and a few promising movie proposals. In the past four years, you and your friends have become famous. Not A-list famous, but enough that if any of you went out, someone would recognize you, or a few paparazzi might follow your every move.

The four of you had lived in the same apartment in New York ever since filming started on location. HBO wanted your friendship to feel authentic for the cameras, and boy, were you grateful for that… because they had become your true best friends—not just on TV, but in real life.

It was Ashley, Jack and Nathan. Something that always happens when you start a show and it gets views it’s that the whole crew becomes a big family. In the middle of the second season, you finally mustered the courage to ask the showrunner, Jeff Davis, if you could join the writers' table to pitch some ideas for your character. He agreed, and since then, some of the best storylines on the show had come from your contributions.

The thing was, your name brought in big numbers, and it had caught the attention of producers and showrunners alike. Criminal Minds had premiered a year ago, gained some traction, but they wanted to take it to the next level. So Jeff, the same creator of your show, called you and your agent to see if you could join the cast.

There were two problems. First, your schedule was already packed. Moving to L.A. for the shoot wasn’t an option—City Lights had you locked in for the fourth season, and there was a possibility you'd land the lead in a promising film. On top of that, you were still taking college classes from a foreign university at your parents' insistence. So, being a recurring character was out of the question.

Second, when they handed you the script, you hated the character. They wanted you to be the fan favorite, Spencer Reid’s love interest, and while you had no problem with that, the character itself didn’t sit right with you. She was this sweet, innocent woman, one who was a victim from one unsub, and Spencer, an addict, would find redemption through her. He’d get sober and everything would be perfectly happy. You thought it was dull.

For starters, you knew how controversial it would be for her to become his personal recovery center, but you also saw the potential in the character. So, you asked if you could rewrite her into something more dynamic, something with more depth. Given the trust Jeff had in you, he gave you free rein to make the changes.

“How’s it going?” Jack, one of your best friends and a Criminal Minds fan, asked, entering the living room.

“A surprisingly moving amount of absolute nothing,” you said jokingly, staring at the blank space.

“Oh, come on, dude! We’ve watched some of the episodes together! You know the vibe,” he said, sitting down on the couch beside you.

“Well, I know the vibe, I just don’t know how to write it.” you said throwing your hands to the air in a comically exasperated way.

“Well, I know the vibe, I just don’t know how to write it,” you said, dramatically throwing your hands in the air, exasperated.

“Guess who’s gone viral again!” Nathan breezed into the room, flashing you a grin. He played your love interest on City Lights, and the fans went wild for your on-screen chemistry. But the truth was, you two were nothing more than really good friends. There was no romance, just a strong, platonic bond.

“Ugh... please tell me it’s for the right reasons.” You shut your eyes and let your head flop back against the couch.

Nathan tossed you his phone, then leaned casually on the backrest of the couch, Jack scooting closer to get a better look.

“What is it? Another red sauce scandal?” you asked, scrunching your nose at the thought.

Let me tell you something: becoming famous at 17 or 18 leaves you with a digital footprint that you'll wish you could erase by the time you’re 23.

He handed you his phone, showing a new release from Austin, your ex-boyfriend. The song title was painfully obvious—"Still Stuck on You." The lyrics left no room for interpretation, and the message hit you like a ton of bricks. Austin had written another song about you, and this time, he made it clear.

“Oh, you've got to be kidding me! This is like the third one this year!” Your mouth hung open in disbelief as Jack, who had burst out laughing, took the phone from your hands and started scrolling through the Twitter comments.

He had been your “boyfriend” four years ago, but only for PR purposes. When you found out he’d cheated, you broke up with him. He begged and cried, and it was pathetic. Since then, Austin had turned your brief relationship into his whole persona. He released songs that were painfully obvious about you, dated women who looked eerily like you, and spent interviews throwing shade, spreading lies, all for attention. The problem? You were skyrocketing, gaining fame in ways he could never have predicted, and he—well, he was still stuck on you.

Your phone started ringing somewhere around the apartment, a FaceTime call vibrating through the cushions. You rummaged through the pillows on the couch, cursing under your breath as you came up empty.

“Seriously, how do you always lose it?” Nathan said, appearing behind you with a smirk. He found your phone wedged between the couch cushions and handed it to you just as you answered the call. As he did, you reached into your back pocket, pulling out a dollar bill and placing it in his open hand.

See, you had a special talent for losing your phone around the house, and your friends turned it into a game. Every time you misplaced it and one of them found it, you owed them a dollar.

“Bitch have you seen it?!” Ashley squealed from your phone, her voice laced with urgency. 

“It's like jumpscare! you know it’s coming but it’s always surprisingly disappointing!” you replied, rolling your eyes.

“Somebody said, ‘Are you writing a memoir or just trying to hit the ‘most dramatic ex’ award this year?’” You all chuckled at Jack’s reading.

“Gotta go, some stylist is calling me. Love ya, bye!” Ashley hung up quickly, going back to her photoshoot, leaving you to shake your head and wish her good luck.

Jack kept giggling at the comments, lost in the chaos of Austin’s latest stunt. Meanwhile, you stared blankly at your screen, the cursor blinking mockingly back at you.

Nathan gave you a playful shove. “You know what’s really offensive? The tempo on that track. It’s like he’s trying to be edgy but doesn’t understand how syncopation works.”

“Hmm, well, what else could you expect? Maybe you should make your own song about it, something with a real sense of rhythm,” You said absently, still staring at the screen, the cursor blinking in a never-ending challenge.

“And you should start writing that, maybe throw in a little revenge of your own,” he said, nudging his chin toward the computer screen with a grin. You frowned at him, your gaze drifting back to the cursor as you considered his words.

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You were studying—actually studying—sitting in the mini studio with notes scattered in front of you, calculator by your side, silently frustrated as you tried to make sense of the numbers. Ashley was on the other side of the desk in front of you, pacing and memorizing her lines, back and forth, her voice echoing in the room. Your grip tightened on your pencil, eyes flicking over the work in front of you, when your phone buzzed. Another message.

"We’ve heard about your 'plans,' but it’s hard to take them seriously when you can’t commit. It’s cute to 'explore options,' but at some point, you’ll have to stop playing around and think about your future. Don’t you want to be taken seriously?"

Maybe it was the sound of your phone tapping against the wood of the table, or the way your hand instinctively went to your eyes, trying to stop the threatening tears, that tipped Ashley off. She paused, looking up from her lines, eyes narrowing as she caught the shift in your mood, as she made it to your way, reading the message still open on your phone that had already sunk in, the familiar sting. 

Ashley didn’t hesitate. She pulled you into a hug, still standing while you were sat, one arm wrapping around your shoulders tightly as she murmured, "Fuck them. Seriously. You don’t need their crap." She squeezed you harder, as if to prove the point. "You're better than any of that. Don’t let their bullshit get to you." Her voice was fierce, a protective edge in every word.

The relationship with your parents was complicated, to say the least. You'd tried to make them proud, but it was never enough. Now, more than ever, you’d rebel when you chose to become an actress. It felt ridiculous—like you were still studying against your will, trying to prove something you didn’t even want to.

"I mean, what the fuck will it take for them to take me seriously? A fucking Oscar? Have some damn patience—I’m working on it," you spat, voice shaky, leaning into Ashley as tears threatened to spill.

She sighed, pulling you in a little tighter. “Fuck them,” she muttered, her voice low but firm. “They don’t get it, and honestly, they probably never will. But you’ve got this. You’re doing something they can’t even begin to understand. Don’t let their bullshit get to you.”

You let out a bitter chuckle. “Well, at least it wasn’t a call. I swear it’s pathetic how every time I get mad, I just cry.”

Ashley pulled you into a tight hug, her voice soft but firm. “Forget about them for a second, okay? You don’t need to study right now. You’ve been working your ass off. Take a break. You’re allowed to feel pissed off without worrying about your grades for a few minutes.” She pulled back just enough to look you in the eye. “You’re doing your best, and that’s all that matters.”

With a last shaky breath and wiping away the tears that had escaped, you nodded. Ashley sighed, her voice soft but firm. “Hey, enough with the studying for now. You’ve been pushing yourself way too hard. Wanna get cute and go out for some coffee?” She gave you a small, reassuring smile. “You deserve a break.”

You chuckled, truly this time, and shook your head. "Maybe later. You finish with your lines, and I’ll… go grab some snacks," she nodded, giving you a smile, picking up the forgotten script.

You were still shaken, even frustrated at how powerless you felt around your parents, and how you reacted to your feelings. You cried, and sometimes words became hard to find. You wished you could scream and destroy everything, just let it all out, like those female rage characters, but for now, you were left in silence.

Which gave you an idea.

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That’s how you ended up creating your character—in a fully cathartic, all-nighter frenzy, shaping her with layers of meaning. Like her nickname, “Woody,” a nod to Nathan’s favorite movie, Toy Story—a little inside joke, a quiet way of taking revenge in your own way.

She was everything you weren’t, and at the same time, everything you were.

And then there was her best friend, Austin—played by Jack, of course, since he was a huge fan of the show—who you took every opportunity to be mean to, just for the fun of it.

You’d never admit it, but the line “Austin is not my boyfriend”? Yeah, that had a little extra bite to it. A double meaning, if you will.

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The producers loved it. The depth of your character, how dark her storyline was. Because if you really want to keep the audience engaged? Give them two characters who are absolutely perfect for each other—but can’t be together.

And when the idea of adding Jack came up, they agreed immediately. What’s better than one City Lights star joining the show? Two City Lights stars.

But they had asked you to keep the secret from everyone, including the current cast. Who you'll be meeting and revealing your characters to in the table reading 

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Jack and you were currently at ABC’s costume department, standing in front of a mirror while the costume designer and a wardrobe assistant made final adjustments to your outfits.

“Man, I’m boiling in here,” you groaned, peeling off the red shirt as the wardrobe assistant jotted down notes about the fit. 

Jack, meanwhile, admired himself in the mirror, dramatically flipping back the leather jacket he was trying on. “Do I look tough? Like, would you trust me with your deepest, darkest secret?” He smirked, striking a pose straight out of an action movie.

The costume designer, pinning a hem on your sleeve, barely glanced up. “You look like an extra in a bad '90s biker film.”

“You look like you're about to challenge a middle schooler to a dance battle,” you added, crossing your arms.

Jack gasped, clutching his chest. “Wow. Zero faith in me.”

“More like zero intimidation factor” You said from the changing room, a few moments later, you stepped out  wearing a white shirt and black vest, and flashed Jack a playful grin. “So, do I finally look like the child my parents can brag about?” you joked, adjusting the vest slightly.

The wardrobe assistant shot you a thumbs up, clearly impressed with the fit.

“Are you maxing out someone's card again?” A voice asked behind you. 

You turned around to see Matthew grinning. You chuckled, scrambling for a response. “Well… I’m not legally allowed to talk about it,” you said, cringing internally.

Man, you were awkward without alcohol in your veins.

He chuckled, stepping closer to pull you into a brief hug in greeting. You’d already worked together on The Beauty Inside, so the familiarity was there—comfortable, easy, playful even.

“So what are you doing here?” He asked.

“Ummm well..” You turned to Jack with panic in your eyes. Jack, ever the performer, didn’t miss a beat. “We’re actually here to stage a heist. High-stakes, top secret.” He waggled his eyebrows.

You groaned, shoving his shoulder. “We’re doing costume fittings.”

Matthew raised a brow, clearly amused. “Costume fittings, huh?” His gaze flickered to the wardrobe racks surrounding you. “For something unannounced?”

You hesitated, your lips pressing into a thin line. “I plead the fifth.”

Jack threw an arm around your shoulders. “She’s under strict secrecy orders, but between us?” He leaned in conspiratorially. “It 's big.”

“Jaaack,” you warned, dragging out the 'a' in a clear sign for him to be careful.

“Well, if you’re in it, I bet it is,” he said, smirking at you.

You chuckled, clearing your throat. “Soo, what are you doing here?”

“Well, this is kinda where I work,” he said with a shrug teasing. Right. This was where the cast of Criminal Minds did their fittings, although the producers had made sure you were not scheduled together to avoid leaks.

You raised an eyebrow, looking around the room. "Here? In the costume department?"

He grinned, clearly enjoying your confusion. "Yep, I mean, what else would I be doing here? Getting my wardrobe ready for my big role?" he added, his tone mock-serious. “What are you supposed to be, by the way? A real estate agent? I bet you’re just one property listing away from a deal of the century,” he said, eyeing your clothes.

You chuckled again. “No, um… I’m actually a very boring banker,” you said, biting your lip to keep from smiling too much. Like get a hold of yourself girlie, he’s just a tall, handsome man, with nice hair and curls and pretty eyes, and gentle. Somebody, hand me a glass of water, or wine, whichever is easier.

The costume designer called your name, already holding more clothes in her hands. "We need to finish these adjustments, sweetheart."

You nodded, trying to shake off the distraction. "Right, I’ll be right there."

Matthew smirked, taking it as his cue to leave. "I guess I'll let you continue. Good luck being a banker," he teased, giving you one last look.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. "Thanks, Matthew," you said, turning toward the designer as he walked off.

Jack, who had been quietly observing from the corner, chimed in with a grin. "Yeah, because nothing says ‘big role’ like a banker in slacks."

You shot him a playful glare. "Oh shut up, Johnny Bravo," you joked, laughing as he dramatically posed in response.

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The producers stood at the front of the room, their eyes scanning the assembled cast. There was a buzz in the air—everyone was settling in, ready for the read-through to begin. After a quick round of hellos and some introductions, one of the producers, a tall woman with a clipboard, stood up to speak.

“Alright, everyone, before we dive in, we have a very exciting addition to the cast today. You’re about to meet someone who is going to bring a lot of depth and intensity to the world of Criminal Minds.” The showrunner smiled at you, saying your names and introducing the new character you’d be bringing to life.

Jack, sitting beside you, was doing his best to keep his cool, but the way he gripped his script gave him away. His knuckles were turning white from how tightly he held the pages, and you couldn’t help but smirk. Leaning toward him, you whispered, “That’s not bubble wrap.”

His eyes flicked to yours, and he whisper-shouted, “That’s Mandy Patinkin sitting right there. Do you have any idea how my mom would react if she were here?”

You chuckled under your breath, keeping your eyes on the table. Across from you, Matthew sat diagonally, flipping through the script with a furrowed brow. When he glanced up, he shot you a mock-offended look and mouthed, “Liar.”

You choked back a laugh, quickly mouthing “Sorry” with a small shrug just as the producers began reading.

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The reading session had concluded, and you were chatting with Paget about how much you had loved her in Friends. Meanwhile, Jack was across the room, subtly—well, not so subtly—trying to get an autograph from Mandy.

From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Matthew making his way toward you, but pretended not to notice, keeping your attention on Paget. You had a feeling he was about to make some kind of remark, and you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of expecting it.

“You should be careful with her, she lied to me and told me she was going to be some boring banker,” he finally said, warning Paget with a smirk, 

You turned to him with an unimpressed look. “I’ll take that as I’m good at my job”

Paget raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the exchange. “Oh, so she tricked you? That’s embarrassing, Gubler.”

Matthew placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. “I was misled! Deceived! Here I was, thinking I had met a perfectly normal, unassuming banker, only to find out she’s infiltrating our world.”

She laughed and patted his shoulder before the showrunner called her, leaving you alone with him.

“Nice shoes, by the way,” he said, looking down at your mismatched Converse—one deep red and the other black, matching your red top.

You chuckled. “Thanks. People keep making fun of me on the internet, saying I must've rushed out of the house.”

He laughed and pulled up his pants, revealing his mismatched socks—one purple with yellow dots and the other blue with bananas. “Well, that’s because they’re boring.”

“Oh God, they’re so cool,” you genuinely liked how bizarre they were.

“Hey, I saw your name on the last page of the credits... Did you write those episodes?” he asked, kind of amazed.

“Well, I um... added some minor stuff, really,” you said, lying a little. “Just to make her more sarcastic and fun… like, I can’t wait to get covered in blood for the shots.”

He laughed just as Jack reappeared, clutching his freshly signed Mandy Patinkin autograph like it was the Holy Grail. “I blacked out for half of that conversation, but I think I played it cool.”

“Yeah, sure, if you say so.” You were about to say something more when a producer called for both of you.

With an apologetic smile, you said goodbye to Matthew, but before you turned around, he called out, “Can I get your number this time, or do I have to wish we get cast together again?”

You laughed, shaking your head as you handed him your number. “I guess I’ll wait for your call.”

“You better pick up. There are some scenes I think will need some rehearsal.” His words made your stomach flip, and a flush crept up your face.

Pressing your lips together to stop yourself from smiling too much, you retorted, “You better be quick. My schedule is full.” That made him chuckle.

The producer called for you again, and you made your way toward him and Jack, still feeling the warmth of the moment lingering. You once promised yourself to not-date-coworkers. Maybe if those coworkers weren’t so funny and handsome you wouldn’t reconsider your own words.

　　　　 　　   .˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘⋅.˳˳.⋅∘ ˚ ˚∘.˳˳. 　　　

If you want to find out more about the CM character click here!

Feedback feeds motivation! Likes, reblogs and comments are all appreciated <3

[ghostlyshellofapuppet]

Blowing Jason Todd in the Batmobile

It's been a while since I wrote. For @dollscircus , hope you have a better day and hope you like it. I'm not used to writing dominant anyone.

Contains praise, lots of praise for Jason and him coming down your throat.

---------------------------------------------------------🪡

A mission gone wrong led to Jason currently clutching the steering wheel of the Batmobile after he stole it from Bruce from a petty feud. Irritable and prone to snapping he drives reckless through the backstreets of Gotham, just trying to blow off steam from an accident that wasn't his fault nor yours. Everything has been building up on his shoulders for a while now, so when he hisses a snarky reply back it's no surprise.

"pull over", you demand and the glare he shoots towards you shows it's been too long since he's been fucked because when he's your good boy he wouldn't look at you with such challenge in his eyes.

"come on baby boy, don't act up so bad now. I know you're moody tonight but that doesn't mean you can act so poorly towards me", spoken caring but firm and he hesitates before his eyes soften slightly and he pulls over. A "good boy" said with a hand cupping his cheek and eventually he climbs into the backseat at your request.

"can I remove these pants, pretty boy?", you ask as you kneel in front of him with a hand on his thigh rubbing softly and he nods with the slightest blush as he avoids eye contact, turned from mean dog to shy puppy too quick for his comfort.

"nuh uh, look at me and say it verbally. You know good boys answer out loud", you correct with a hand under his chin guiding his head back to your gaze to meet. "...yeah....please, take them off", Jason whispers as he meets your eyes with a vulnerable and slightly pleading look.

"there's my good boy, always doing so well", said with a smile and a kiss before unzipping and pulling down his pants just enough to take his cock out. "Can I please you, baby?" you ask and he replied with a yes almost instantly as his hand falls to your non-dominant hand to hold.

Pulling out his semi-hard cock to hold and lick to get wet as his head falls back with a breathy moan and twitch of his hand. Slowly pumping the base and sucking on his pretty tip just to rile him up just to see his head tilt to the side with his eyes closed, he can be shy tonight you decide, your poor good boy has had a hard time lately.

"how do you want this tonight?", you ask with a lick to the prominent vein, looking up at him to see Jason's blush. ".....slow...but squeeze me harder please", he answers as he does his best to make eye contact with those desperate eyes. "Good boy...my good boy, all for me. Knew you were still being so good, just needed a little reminder how to act"

As you work his hand finds your hair and he tries so hard not to pull but he needs to find something to ground himself on as his thighs tense and his breath hitches. Kissing down his dick to his balls to give a slow lick and suck just to get the prettiest whine out of him as he grips your shoulder.

"yeah, feel good?" you coo and he nods with a moan, as his head tips down to look at you. His eyes going a little hazy as he pants and a little bead of sweat rolls down his forehead. "Feels good", Jason confirms as his hands relaxing before tightens again. Moving his hand down to grip yours as he says, "thank you... thank you, I'm..I'm sorry for snapping.... snapping at you on the mission."

"Don't think about the mission, think about me. Doesn't it feel better to think about how good it feels when I suck your tip, I know how sensitive it is", you say and he nods. "Yeah, yeah.. I love it whe-... when you... fuck...", Jason sighs as his head falls back once again. The backseat not leaving much room for him and you both but he doesn't want you far away anyway.

"come on pretty boy, I know you're getting close. Cum when you need to, cum down my throat. I know you love to do it, I want you to", you encourage when you suck on his tip again and in no time he's arching his back and holding your hand as he whines and tenses up.

When he slumps back down and pants you take the opportunity to lean up and kiss his forehead as you rub your thumb over his cheek. "Good boy, I knew you'd be so good for me.....now, do you want me to drive you home or do you want something to eat first"

"...I want tacos...", he says catching his breath. With a smile and another kiss you agree and help him zip up his pants and climb into the driver's seat as you hand him a water bottle. "Taco's it is", is all that's said before a comfortable silence is felt as you drive to take care of the wants of your pretty boy.

---------------------------------------------------------🪡

This is longer than i meant it to be but oh well, hope you enjoy.

[fallen-w1ngs]

'' LONGING ,,

|| pairing: hawks x gn!reader / keigo takami x gn!reader

|| warnings: hurt/comfort, this is so self indulgent

|| word count: 0.8k

It had been around 2 weeks since Keigo left for his mission. He had told you that he was coming back in a week and a half. You were worried sick for him, pacing around your shared living room as you constantly checked your phone. Though, you knew Keigo wasn't allowed to use his phone on these missions, it'd be too much of a risk. Undercover missions, y'know?

It didn't make it easier, of course it didn't. When the two of you got married, you knew what you were signing up for. You knew that he'd be gone for weeks on end. That his hero work wouldn't be sympathetic towards your relationship.

He'd come home at late hours of the day, leave when daylight barely breaks. It was heart wrenching. And you didn't know what to do but worry. Ah, well, let's hope he'll be home by tomorrow. It was already 2 AM, if he was home he'd probably kill you if he knew you were up at that time. That damn hypocrite.

You changed into your pajama's, it was the matching set that Keigo INSISTED on getting. It was the stupid, childish pj's that had llama prints on the bottoms while the top had some cheesey llama pun. God, it was so stupid.

You climbed into bed, hiding underneath the fluffy comforter that Keigo had hated, yet you absolutely loved it. He claimed his wings were warm enough, which was true. But now that he was out, you needed the comforter. Yet all you could think of was the fact you wanted that stupid fucking bird man to wrap his arms and wings around you.

You closed your eyes, hugging your fluffy pillow, nuzzling your face into it. Pretending as if it was Keigo. God, what did that man do to you?

.

.

.

You had drifted to sleep, your dreams filled of nothing but a dark void as a small creak came from your balcony. Heavy boots against the smooth tile as Keigo made his way through the living room. He hadn't received terrible injuries, thankfully, only a few cuts and bruises, allowing him to fly home, quick and easy. He threw off his jacket on the couch and kicked his boots. He'll deal with your lecturing tomorrow.

Silently, Keigo made his way through the hall up to your shared bedroom. As much as he hated being in his hero costume, he desperately needed to cuddle with you in bed. He'll change in the morning. He needed his spouse.

He climbed into bed, pushing the comforter away and pushing your back flush against his chest. His wing over the both of you, acting as a blanket. Keigo let out a small sigh as he pushed his face into your hair, memorizing your smell. Oh, how he missed this.

"Kei?" Your voice felt like a whisper in the wind. Something that couldn't be heard even by the sharpest of ears.

"Shit, I'm sorry for waking you, baby" You turned to face him. A small smile on your face as you put your forehead against his own. Your hand reaching up to feel his scratchy stubble.

"Don't apologize for waking me up.."

"I'm sorry, love"

He placed a gentle kiss on the corner of your lips. A small smile spreading on his face when he did. How sweet you were, your lips as sweet as honey and as soft as a cloud that Keigo would fly in. Oh, how he would trade the skies to kiss you a million times over. He'd trade everything just to stay with you everyday.

"How was-"

"I don't wanna talk about it," Keigo pushed his face into your hand, placing gentle kisses on your hands. "just wanna be with you.. Don't wanna think about-"

You placed another kiss on his lips, your eyes filled with love and affection as he looked over at you. What was he even talking about?

"It's okay, love," You reached over and wrapped your arms around his neck. Pulling him close, as if you were trying to meld yourself to him. "I'm glad you're home, I've missed you."

With a shakey breath, Keigo wrapped his arms around your waist, nuzzling into you as his grip on your shirt tightened. The days he would come home were always the best, yet also the worst. He could have prevented the hurt, the longing, if he had stayed home. If he had stayed with you.

"I missed you so much, my love, God.. All I thought about was you.." His voice was barely above a whisper as you hugged him. At these times, he acted as if you were a precious treasure that he desperately did not want to let go of. Well, you were a precious treasure. To him, at least. "I'll stay home tomorrow. I promise, my songbird, I promise, I-"

You pushed his face away from you, his face cupped between your hands as you gave a soft smile. "It's okay, Keigo.. I promise, I'm okay."

"I love you."

You let out a small chuckle.

"I love you too, Keigo"

|| chat idk wtf came over me but i was feeling sad and i wanted keigo SIGH!

[illshakeyouallnightlong-dean]

Take Me To The Sun (Rewritten)

I know everything. The things beyond weapons drops across the border. And yet I stay quiet. Until I can't. Being a marked one, being a friend of Xaden Riorson doesn't mean I am granted unfiltered access to information of what goes on beyond Navarre's walls. But it should when lives are lost and rules change. My compassion doesn't make me weak. My dragon chose me. I am meant for more.

A/N: This fic is updated on my AO3 as well. Here. Happy Reading! Gonna try to update once or twice a week but as you know, life happens so we'll see! xoxo K

The quadrant is in chaos. 

Finding out who is alive, who we all lost - it’s a mess. The only thing I can focus on, however, is the fact that they aren’t back. 

He isn’t back. 

I wish I could comfort you, flare. Rathnait whispers to me in the library of my mind. For a brief moment, guilt consumes me. Gripping my throat with the threat of tears and a scream. A failure of a rider -  not able to even give her a reprieve from the onslaught of my emotions. That she must feel it all with me down our bad. 

A low growl as she narrows those golden eyes of her’s at me. Talons tick nervously on the flight field, vigilant over my every move and breath. All I can do is stare at my dragon vacantly. Streaks of dark copper highlighted her grace, her beauty - running down the length of her neck and down each of her legs. Rathnait was a sight to behold, and I was only grateful to be considered worthy to be hers. Her scarlet colored scales glistened in the setting sun, as if mirroring the sun itself in all its bright glory. Her swordtail flicked in the air back and forth, as if it were involuntary. We must not get ahead of ourselves, you would feel it if something happened to him. Don’t you dare assume what I can and can’t handle. Shutting me out only hurts you in the end.

My shaky hands outstretch, desperation to run them against the warmth of her scales. Her nose to my chest, needing to feel the steadiness of her breath on my clammy self. She nudges me gently, trying all she can to ground my spiraling thoughts. 

How could this be happening? How did it come to this? All that will be left is bitter words and unspoken longing for a man who didn’t choose me.

~

“Xaden is already bending the rules with bringing Violet along, I can’t ask him to risk your well being as well,” Garrick murmurs in my ear as we watch the tense showdown between Dain and Xaden. Ignoring the sting in my chest is a feat itself, having to wrinkle my nose to rid myself of  the tears that threaten to fall.

“You're not even gonna try, after everything? You just expect me to watch you go? You’ve been keeping secrets, Garrick. This seems like part of one of them.” Stepping away from his hold, the warmth long gone from the two of us. My desire to punch him, to yell at him at the very least - gods why doesn’t he ever choose me? 

Rathnait glowers at both Garrick and Chradh, his brown scorpion tail - the irritation evident in her golden gaze. Unrelenting. Every tone, every unsaid word she analyzes and catalogues. Watching me get hurt right before her very eyes, and not in a physical way is something she doesn’t stand for. Teeth as sharp as steel snap towards Chradh, the brown dragon pulls away in shock towards the obvious display of aggression. Garrick’s jaw shuts and clenches at the show the dragons are putting on, his ever composed features faltering at the anguish I knew he could see in my eyes, could hear in my voice. 

Just say the word, flare. I’ll teach him to treat you with more care. Rathnait snarls at Chradh as he tries to nudge her affectionately. I don’t want to put her in an uncomfortable position, to push away her growing care for Chradh. You let me worry about that. Chradh knows you are the one I chose, the one I will always look out for.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I wish we had time to talk more, but right now I would rather know you’re safe with the rest of your squad. Your anger towards me is worth it if I am guaranteed your survival,” I watch as he makes sure his flight gloves are secure, flexing them before flickering those earth toned eyes towards me. My heart cracks a little bit more - all I want to do is scream. To shove him and get him to see that this is hurting me, is crushing me. How much more can I let slide? How much more can I take?

“And what about you? What if you don’t come back?” The very thought is enough to have my knees lock and heart stutter. 

Xaden and Violet make their way towards their dragons. Squads have begun to launch to their respective posts. Dain and I are being waited upon by Second Squad. 

“I’ve survived too much to lose now. I’ll be back and we can talk - I’ll tell you everything,” Garrick promises, stepping forward to plant a soft kiss on my temple. Clutching his flight jacket, I can’t help it as tears fall down my cheeks. 

“It seems like you might lose me though.”

 Turning around to follow my squad leader, ignoring the curses from Garrick, ignoring the way in which my squad watches me with grimaces and pity. All for fucking War Games, all for nothing. Being co-section leader means nothing to me, Dain can be in charge for all I care. Steps that feel like bricks on my feet, it’s all the energy I can muster towards the group, needing the familiar, needing their constant. Ridoc opens his arms, bringing me in for a brief tight embrace. Sawyer offers a wavering smile.

“Are you gonna be ok?” Rhiannon softly asks, wiping my wet cheeks with her hands. A shaky smile graces my lips, hands busy with making sure my own flight jacket and gloves are secure. It takes everything in me to not watch Garrick and Chradh take to the sky, having to believe that he’ll be ok, it’s all that I can allow myself to think of. 

Xaden didn’t even glance my way, Imogen or Bodhi - no one. As if the rest of the marked one’s had decided together who should and shouldn’t go. Guess I made the cut. My own relic curved over my fingers and wrist - briefly burning as if answering to my very thoughts. 

“Let’s go get this over with.” Quickly scaling up Rathnait, she chuffs at me, making sure I’m secure in my seat. Let’s go flying, Ray. Take me towards the sun. Sending my devotion to her down our bond. She launches quickly, wings flaring gloriously. The rest of the squad is quick to follow. 

I’ll always make sure you’re near it, flare. The light will never die in you, not even from this pain. 

At least she always chooses me. 

~

It’s been 10 days. 10 days of agony. 

I’m the only third year left. 

Expected to carry on my co-section leader responsibilities as if the absence of Garrick is a minor inconvenience. The early sun rises with a flourish of pinks, reds and oranges and all I can do is relish in this fleeting moment of peace. 

No one seems to care or notice that they aren’t back yet. My only anchor, my only comfort is from that of my dragon. Spending many hours against the curve of her back, staring up at the sky in hopes of seeing or hearing familiar dragons, of hearings wings. When I’m not near her, our bond is wide open. The familiar fire red tether in my mind ablaze with every thought and emotion that runs through us. A warmth of what I could only describe as security floods down the bond. 

We can’t worry about things that haven’t been confirmed yet, flare. She knows my true questions, the things that I can’t bring myself to ask or think about. You must think about today, where we will go. 

Graduation day. 

Today would be the day we’ve been waiting for since entering this school, assignments to outposts were being given, and by this evening I would be gone, my journey at Basgaith over. Turning away from the river, I make my trek towards the flight field. The few third years left of this school congregate, awaiting as Colonel Aetos and Commandant Pancheck begin the assignments. 

“Congrats on graduating, Section Leader. It is a shame that Wingleader Riorson and Section Leader Tavis aren’t here to accompany you.” Colonel Aetos nearly sneers at the mention of Xaden. The obvious disdain is unsettling as he rifles through different papers. “Ah yes, your assignment. Due to your signet and the savagery of your red swordtail - you’re being assigned to the eastern wing…specifically, Samara.” The grin directed at me is maniacal, a joke I’m not privy too, a dare. Rathnait snarls in my mind, unbridled rage igniting the very blood in my veins - but all I can do is take the papers from his hand, saluting in acknowledgement and walking away.

Where are you, Ray?  Hands tremble, the crinkling of paper beneath slender hands is all I can focus on as I sprint towards my room. Can’t be out in the open, can’t let them see, can’t let anyone see what will surely be my own falling apart. My own demise. 

You will not fall apart. An outpost is just a different place, as if you haven’t endured years of people hating the very ground you stand on. As if you haven’t been bonded to me. 

I make it to the middle of an empty hall that leads towards our sleeping quarters, knowing in a matter of moments the rest of the cadets will be awake to get into formation. Pressing the heels of my hand into my eyes, I can’t help but rest my back against the cool stone behind me. My own body feeling as if it had everything sucked out of me, the very air I breath feels strained.  

Samara is the front line. Trying to get the ever rising beat of my heart under control, I must not panic. I am a rider. I am Rathnait’s rider.

Are you afraid, flare? I shudder at her question, not wanting to admit the fear, the panic. But I know that she can feel everything, hear all that I think. 

They aren’t here. He isn’t here. A whimper escapes my lips, the reality of it all just crashing down like rubble. I will be going to Samara, there is no avoiding it, there is no changing it. While I had spent years trying to survive Basgaith, I would be sent to one of the most active posts in the region. 

“Section Leader? Ar-are you ok?” Dain Aetos stands before me, hands out as if approaching a scared animal. “We need to get to formation.”

I don't hate the kid, knowing that following the straight and narrow path is the life that is meant for some people over others. However, that doesn’t mean I want him to see me having a mental breakdown. Giving him a small nod, I manage to get myself to stand before fully looking at the Squad Leader. 

Something’s wrong. My own senses are beginning to go haywire. My signet. Only Xaden and Garrick knew. Command and Basgaith are under a different impression as to what it is. None of the other marked ones knew either. The manipulation and detection of emotions however was a daily venture, there was no turning it off, there was only controlling it and living with it and right now Dain Aetos was a mess. 

“I would ask you the same thing, what’s wrong?” Dusting off my flight leathers. I don’t miss the way he flinches at my question, his hesitancy. “Do I have to give an order to know?” Glowering at him - I am still a section leader. 

Taking a deep breath, he stands tall despite the sorrow in his eyes, “Xaden and the rest of the squad he took with him are being declared dead at formation.” I startle myself at the immediate sob that escapes my lips. My body has accepted what my mind cannot. “Leadership has been looking and there is no sign of them.” Feeling the agony of his own loss, it feels as if a tidal wave has pulled me under. The roaring from Rathnait in my brain feels as if it will explode any second. Dain’s grief, his regret all barrel into me with no filter, no shield. Rathnait’s confusion and rage down the bond. My own sorrow, my own heartbreak. There is no stopping it. There just is feeling it. Unaware of the stream of tears that roll down my face, the taste of salt jolts me out of the shock, the horror. 

“Round up everyone, squad leader. I’ll be at formation in a moment.” My voice doesn’t feel like my own, the assignment papers feeling like large weights in my hand. He turns away to head towards the Quadrant, “Dain,” I call out, sounding like a garbled mess. “Thank you for telling me.” His own eyes glisten with unshed tears as he nods. 

My flare. I hear her call out, though to reach out seems like so much energy, all I can do is let her in with no barriers, allowing her to be there in the comfort of my mind. I’m coming, flare. 

Standing at the bottom of the stone dias. Everyone in formation, I don’t bother to look around. There is no one here to look for anymore. There is no Wingleader, there is no co-section leader - there is just me alone at the front. 

We don’t even have our leader. What hope is there for the revolution? Rathnait has no answer for me. 

To look at my squad is the last thing I am able to do, not being able to endure their unsaid questions. Answers? I had none. Being known for being put together, not a hair out of place, no rumpled leathers, no dirt unless necessary was once a pride and pleasure I reveled in. I’m sure the current state of me was a shock. Strands of hair fell in front of my face, eyes dry and cheeks raw from the tears. 

Captain Fitzgibbons overlooks formation, reading off the death roll. “Violet Sorrengail.” A moment of silence as all eyes look to the stoic face of General Sorrengail. “Garrick Tavis.” My heart feels as if it bleeds on the very floor I'm standing on, flinching harshly at the reading of his name. “And Xaden Riorson.” Captain Fitzgibbon’s voice rings out echoing around the quadrant. 

“Well this is awkward,” a voice calls out. Gasps are heard around the quadrant, even command seems unsettled by what’s happening. My knees seem to be locked in place, unable to turn around and see what is going on. My breaths turn into small gasps of air - no no no it can’t be, I’m dreaming. Dain said. I need to wake up. Heavy footsteps approach behind me, and two individuals take up position on either side of me. A calloused hand brushes against my own. 

~

Angry steps make their way towards the leaders seated at the dias. Xaden Riorson commands the very space, as if he were part of leadership. Violet Sorrengail makes her stand next to me, and the presence of the person on the right of me is one I can’t pay attention to - no matter how badly I want to turn and look, no matter how badly I want to cry. Colonel Aetos is furious, cheeks flushed and furrowed brows do no favors as General Sorrengail questions everything that has been happening since the start of War Games. All directed towards the fumbling Colonel and Xaden.

“I was directed to take a squad beyond the wards to Athebyne and form the headquarters for Fourth Wing’s War Games, and I did so. We stopped to rest our riot at the nearest lake past the wards, and we were attacked by gryphons.” Xaden states, fists at his side as he looks at both General Sorrengail and Colonel Aetos. “It was a surprise attack, and they caught Deigh and Fuil unaware.” He pivots slightly, telling the wing the rest of what we don’t know. “They were dead before they ever had a chance.” My Wingleader looks at my briefly for the first time in what seems like years, for a moment there is a crack in his ever perfect expression. 

I must have blinked, I must’ve staggered. My knees crash against the hard floor for a moment before arms reach themselves around my waist to hoist me up. We lost Liam? We lost Soleil? Unable to hear anything other than the rushing of my own blood through my very veins, the beat of my heart as if it were to come out of my chest. Violet flits her hands around my face, her mouth moving but for the life of me I don’t know what she’s saying. 

Liam was so good. Too good. And just like that he is gone? 

“And we almost lost Sorrengail.” 

Violet’s eyes widen as she takes in the horror in my eyes. My friends were in trouble and I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there. Tears blur my vision, and all I can do is breathe through the rattling in my chest. 

I will never forgive you. Pushing the thought towards Xaden. Watching as his spine stiffens, for a brief moment the hurt is detectable in those onyx depths, but in a blink it vanishes. 

“Breathe,” a warm voice whispers against my ear, “ Or you’ll pass out.” The emotions of everyone in the quadrant are too much. However, Garrick Tavis’ were always those of beacons to me - I was nothing more than a boat lost at sea in this very moment. And yet how do I differentiate between him and me and our emotions when all this time I thought he was dead? I thought he was never to come back? How do I ever look at him the same way after leaving me behind? “Let go of me,” shrugging myself out of his hold, I get back into proper formation. Violet watches warily, unsure of what to do. “Go help our Wingleader, Cadet Sorrengail.” Anguish flickers from her emotional tether, being dismissed was something she didn’t think I would ever do to her. To treat her as a lesser. However, in this very moment, the very reality I have endured through seems pointless. There is no belonging to the marked one’s or to a cause or to the protection of Violet and Xaden. There is nothing but the chasm in my chest at every word being revealed, at every tether holding loss and grief. And the worst part of it all is that in a matter of less than 12 hours none of this will matter, Basgiath won’t matter - I will be long gone, a new post, a new death sentence. Like always, being forced to move on. 

Making myself numb is a simple yet effective aspect of my second signet. The dying of emotions is a strange and vacant liminal space in my mind. Gone are the bright hues within the library. The dimming of my own tether to Rathnait. The rest of questioning -  I don’t bother with the insistent touching from Garrick as he tries to get my attention. I don’t bother with the few glances from Xaden, and unfortunately I can’t be open to the bond between Rathnait and I - my cruel humanity unable to withstand her words at this moment despite her numerous attempts of ramming against my shields. I know it isn’t her fault, this hurt and sense of loss that I feel - but I’d rather be alone. 

With dismissal from command, Xaden and Violet get back into formation. There are words exchanged between them and Dain, but again why does any of it matter anymore? As Captain Fitzgibbons calls out the additional names to the amended death roll, there are no tears shed, there is only silence, deathly still silence. Commandant Panchek takes the stand and addresses what is left of the riders remaining. “Beyond military commendations, there are no words of praise for rider. Our reward for a job well done is living to see the next duty station, the next rank. In keep with our traditions and standards, those of you who have completed your third year will now be commissioned as lieutenants in the army of Navarre. Step forward when your name is called to receive your orders. You have until morning to depart for your new duty stations.” 

The orders I received earlier feel like lead against my breast pocket. I had received mine earlier as a taunt, a warning since command had already believed that my Wingleader and his squad were dead. My duty station was punishment for whatever it was that Xaden and Garrick had been involved in, what they are still involved in. 

“Garrick Tavis!” My heart feels like it lodges itself in my throat, as if it were to splatter all over the floor as I look at him, fully look at him for the first time in days as he strides towards the commandant. A new scar lines from his jaw to his temple, deep and red - fresh. His wide strong frame grabs the paper and lets out a breath as he reads the duty station he is assigned to before looking at me as he makes his way back to formation. For the first time, I note an emotion that is rare from him, from someone I have come to know as unwavering. 

He’s scared. Garrick Tavis is afraid. 

~

A resounding cheer goes up in the courtyard as we are dismissed from formation. Everyone has their new orders and I watch as Ridoc, Sawyer, Nadine and Violet gather each other into a hug. Liam should be here with them too, I can’t help but think. Soleil should be graduating with us. Violet tries to catch my gaze but I am not one for appeasing our lightening wielder tonight. A tall figure blocks my vision of the squad, and I know who it is without having to truly look up and see.

“Wingleader,” I nod, staring blankly across his shoulder. “What can I help you with?” 

Xaden raises his hands as if to grip my shoulder, or Malek forbid, pull me into a hug. He must second guess himself though as he falters and his hand hangs limply at his side. “We need to talk, the three of us. And I’m no longer your Wingleader, we’re equals. We made it, flare.” 

Whipping my gaze at him, lips pulled in a snarl. “Don’t. I was never your equal, I was someone who helped you all get away with whatever bullshit it is you’re doing. I was the scapegoat. I was the distraction.” With each word, rage bellows in my belly. My shields must be faltering between Rathnait and I, because I feel like decking him, hurting him. I don’t bother lowering my volume, all sense of decorum out the window as cadets make their way across the quadrant. “I’m not even your friend.” 

Xaden flinches at that. 

“That’s not fair, sweetheart,” A raspy deep voice comes from behind me, calloused hands attempt to grab my own. Ripping them out of his grasp, I can’t help but ram my elbow into his side, the sound of wheezing only slightly satisfying. Xaden attempts to help him but the glare I pin at him leaves him immobilized . 

“What is not fair, sweetheart, is being left behind. Is not being there to help. Is not being trusted after everything I’ve told you out of faith!” Whirling around to face him, Garrick struggles to fully stand upright after my jab. “And now it doesn’t even matter. Excuse me, I have to go pack.” 

Hurt. Regret. All that I can feel from the two shocked idiots. 

****

Shutting me out isn’t the answer, flare. Rathnait snarls in my mind. There is nothing my dragon hates more than to be purposely shutout from me. If I can’t reach your during moments of distress, how can I help you?

Sometimes I don’t want help, Ray. Sometimes I just have to feel it. Folding the rest of my clothes and putting away what few belongings I do have, I’m able to rest for a moment on the bed. The wooden figurine of Rathnait sits on the window, all I can do is watch it. 

Liam was so sweet. Eager to please, eager to excel - and training him was something that I actually found fun. He was the little brother I never had. Someone who could bring me back down from the emotional highs, someone who made me laugh when all Xaden and Garrick wanted to do was be serious. When he made the figurine of my dragon, Rathnait herself chuffed in amusement at how endearing she found Liam. He was just so filled with light that this hellhole had to swallow it up and take it away. It wasn’t fair. 

A knock echoes throughout the empty room. Already knowing what is to come, I steel myself for the inevitable emotional onslaught. Adjusting my new officer flight leathers, I wave my finger to open the door, staying close to the window. 

Both Garrick and Xaden are dressed in their new flight leathers as well. A pack and sleeping pad hitched over their shoulders. Remorse written all over their faces I don’t even have to use my signet for that. 

“Is it ok if we talk in here?” Xaden asks. Yelling from the graduated cadets echo throughout the halls, celebration in all forms was everywhere tonight. Glancing away from their hesitant stares, the sound barrier shimmers slightly overhead as Xaden shuts the door. With a heavy, burdened sight, he slides against the door and sits on the floor, legs outstretched. It’s the least put together I’ve seen from him. Garrick sits on the bed, glancing at the wooden figurine with a wavering smile before glancing at me. I don’t make a move to sit by him, my arms cross as I lean against the window bay. No one says a word. The friendship the three of us had, seems like it teeters on the edge of the cliff. Well it seems like I’m the one starting this.

“I thought you were all dead. That all I had left was the memory of disagreeing with Garrick before War Games and watching my Wingleader not spare me a second glance as he makes his squad when I was meant to be a section leader as well.” Bland words escape me, trying to say something other than the yelling that I want to dish out to them. “And knowing I didn’t even get to see Liam before he -“ I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’ve never asked, Xaden. I’ve never demanded Garrick tell me when I could easily hold it against him as someone he supposedly cared a lot about-“

“Care.” Garrick interrupts. Leaving no room for argument. “I care a lot about you, sweetheart. More than that. Don’t blame Xaden when I am just as much a part of this as he is. Be mad at me too.” His hazel eyes blaze with a fight I know he’s aching for. To yank the deadened words from my lips with something fiery, something that feels like more. Garrick doesn’t know what he’s asking for.

“You don’t think I’m mad at you too? Tavis, I am furious. I am heartbroken. I was resigned to a life without you, and now?” Gasping for air, I pound my chest for some sort of relief from the tightness I feel. Garrick is quick to try and help me but I raise my hand, ordering him wordlessly to stay put. 

“There are a lot of things I regret,” Xaden rasps, “You helped me, confided in me - and I didn’t do the same thing to you.” 

“I was ready to fight alongside the two of you if you had told me to. I would meet Malek with honor. I may not be like you or Imogen or Bodhi - that everything I feel is so much and bleeds with every word I say or person I interact with - “

“No, flare that’s no-“

“You act like I’m not even a marked one. That I am not a part of what you all are planning. I’m kept in the shadows so that command never suspects you all. You asked me to help train Violet. You asked me to be a constant, to be unwavering. For what? To be forgotten?” With each question, my shouts echo throughout my bedroom. Neither of them are able to meet my eyes. “I would die for Aretia.” The whisper in to the space between us hits their mark. The full realization of what I know - the understanding, make it’s way across their expressions, their emotions. Xaden rakes his fingers through his hair, clutching it almost painfully. Garrick staggers slightly, holding himself up by clutching the bed post. “And now? It’s too late. I have my duty station. Basgaith is done. My journey here is done.” 

I brush my signet along their emotional tethers, unable to break the habit of comforting them ever so slightly. Understanding that the two of them lost their brother, lost people that were a part of them. Garrick lets out a shaky laugh as he feels the familiar sensation of soothingness. 

“H-How did you know about that?” Garrick questions, eyes finally roaming over me in disbelief. 

“Did you not think I would know every time you would lie to me? That the drops you were making were all that you were doing? I don’t know anything else but the restoration of home, of our home? How could you not think I would defend that with every ounce of my life for you?” 

“It was never because I didn’t trust you.” Xaden looks at me with a resolve I don’t understand. He gets up slowly, standing tall. “If anything it was because I didn’t want to chance losing someone else we all cared about to. We lost Liam and Soleil too easily. I lost them. I’m the one who is responsible for you all.” 

Truth. Feeling his honesty. Feeling his belief. 

“Flare, if were to lose someone like you, too? You’re glue, you’re binding. You’re a bridge. The same way that Violet is.  You bring Navarre and Tyrrendor together with your compassion. With your grace and spirit. When others look at you, they don’t see a marked one. They see more.” A knuckle taps against his flight leather pants in agitation. "I took a chance and made a mistake and I’ll never be able to earn that trust back. But look into my tether and now that I’m so fucking sorry. That I fucked up.” Xaden pleads, “And selfishly I was looking out for my brother, knowing that if he lost you? There was nothing in this world that would bring him back.” His voice cracks as he looks over at Garrick, a hand on his broad shoulders. “I’d rather you be alive and hate me, whereas dead and I lose the two of you in the process.” 

A shudder makes it’s way past my lips, tears trailing down my cheeks. I felt exhausted, I felt confused and scared and so many other things and all because we we’re so fucking human it seemed like despite my signet, despite my bond with a dragon - I was still so susceptible to human experiences and emotions. 

“I’m being assigned to Samara,” I tell them, not being able to dance around that any longer. Both of them look at me with wide bloodshot eyes. 

“Say that again?” Garrick demands, making his way towards me. 

“Samara is my new duty station?” Confused as to their reactions. “I was assigned my station before the official formation. It’s a death sentence, one they thought they could give me since they thought you were dead and I was a loose end towards command.” 

Garrick and Xaden smile, both blinding and perfect. Garrick for the first time in what seems like ages, swoops me into his arms, clutching me tightly as he cradles the nape of my neck. He shakes in my hold, as if whatever energy he feels is suddenly constrained in his body. 

“We’ve been assigned there as well, we didn’t get to chose our station. I guess they forgot that they had put you there too,” Xaden laughs, watching the disbelief as I realize what this means. 

“You’re gonna be with me?” I whimper towards Garrick, burrowing my face into the crook of his neck feeling the tidal wave of emotions of all three of us. 

“Never leaving you, sweetheart.” He laughs again, rubbing his hands along my back, clutching my hair, doing anything he can to just touch me. It’s been ages since we’ve been near each other like this. I can feel Rathnait chuff in the back of my mind, her also understanding that she gets Chradh with her as well. 

“We get a second chance,” Xaden grins, although I know he means it more towards himself. 

“If by second chance you mean I get to be in, full in. Than yes,” I demand, untangling myself from Garrick, to look at both of them. Garrick clutches his hand in mine tightly. 

“You’re in, flare. However much you want to be involved in. Garrick and I will tell you everything, and from there -“ He nervously wavers, “From there you can fully decide what it is you want to do. There is no one else I’d rather station and fight alongside with than with you two. The three of us entered Basgiath together, we leave together.” 

Opening my arms, he rolls his eyes playfully - ever the grump. Garrick and I pull Xaden into our embrace, clutching each other tightly with relief. We weren't gonna go through death alone, we weren’t gonna suffer alone. Samara was meant to be our death sentence but maybe, just maybe - it wouldn’t be so bad. 

[eclipseberrycake]

Satisfied (Onesided! Ginger x Reader x Cosmo)

AN: If y'all know Hamilton, y'all know. Now I know, I have requests and the next part of MBC promised (which is almost done and I'm so excited to show you guys), but I was struck with a thought in my headache riddled brain which was scattered all sorts. And it's my Blog so. >:D sucks to be y'all. /lh Also sorry for being gone for son long, I re-dislocated by knee and that was no bueno </3

This is the MBC! Reader, but I don't really emphasis on Sprout and Astro in this, so I just put it as Cosmo.

Lil bit of a songfic, but it's mostly just inspired by it.

Warnings: One-sided/unreciprocated affections, Ginger gets sad. Maybe her mains shouldn't pmo next time.

☁ Being a holiday toon had both it's pros and cons.

☁ On one hand, she loves seeing all the children and their excited little faces as they scamper about, smiles brightened by the cheer of the season. There's always a semi-permanent smell of cinnamon and pine in the air, lingering and almost tangible on the tongue.

☁ She gets to spend her days baking and enjoying life with the other toons, talking to them about their holiday wishes and going on runs with them. Those were her favorite moments, by far, were seeing all the other toons in action, playing a part that was so well rehearsed to them it was practically muscle memory.

☁ And, she got to see you. You were a distractor, a damn good one at that, and she found herself drawing towards you more and more.

☁The first time she met you was pre-outbreak. Her and the other holiday toons were just created for Gardenview's first holiday season, and some of the other commons were tasked with getting them acquainted. While originally she suspected she would be paired with Cosmo, as she was his cousin, she was pleasantly surprised when you popped up.

☁ You gave her a cheerful little wave as your entire body seemed to bounce with joy, never staying still as you introduced yourself. You offered a hand for her to shake, she remembers, your hold firm and confident. She remembers thinking in that very moment how your iris' reflected the light like stained glass. You were still talking, she remembers, but not about what. Just the sound of your voice.

☁ You spoke with vigor. Bold and bright, intelligent about whatever you were going on about. She liked that. She wasn't very bold herself, admittedly, it was a family trait, so to see you so exuberant made her chest burn.

☁ You were almost like a phoenix. One of those fire birds the children would tell her about. They were in stories and were known for their bright flames. There were more to them, but she couldn't quite recall, all she knew was that, like a phoenix, you burned like a star, calling her attention as if she were a moth.

☁ You led her around the kitchen areas, where she was able to spot Cosmo, waving at him. While he did acknowledge her with a bright grin and tight hug, she knew his eyes were focused somewhere else.

☁ She tried not to think about it, but ultimately it was all she could focus on. You welcomed your own warm greeting with Cosmo, making his cheeks dust a rosy orange as he wrapped his arms around you, his tail wagging in a blur behind him as he nuzzled into your neck.

☁ He looked at you like you were not only a star, but the moon, sun and planets all in one. Like you were a sight far beyond his own comprehension that he was merely lucky enough to see.

☁ Like he was simply a man in love, seeing the very object of his adoration.

☁ The thought stung in her chest. Cosmo, oh sweet Cosmo, was such a lover at heart. She knew this. He would give and give until he couldn't any longer, then would try to give more. She knew, if she had made her adorations of you known, he would've backed off. He would've encouraged her to get to know you. He would've done everything in his power to help her shine bright enough to match you.

☁ But she couldn't do that to him. Not when he looked so smitten, so...in love.

☁ That would be cruel.

☁ Though she supposed it was as equally cruel to force herself to admire you from a distance, watch as your flame burned with you, yearning just to feel the heat. She just wanted to know what it was like to hold your hand and twirl away to Christmas songs like Tisha did. Or to feel your hands wrap around her waist to boost her to the higher branches like you did with Scraps. Or even just for you to sit beside her with a cup of hot chocolate and cookies like you did with Goob.

☁ She wanted all those things and more. She wanted to know what your early morning voice sounded like, still heavy with sleep as you fought off the pull of your exhaustion once more. She wanted to know what it was like to feel you crawl into bed and collapse under the covers, whining for cuddles because you've had such a long day. She wanted to wake up and see the rays of sun cross your face as you continue to snooze, unaware and unrushed by the events of the day.

☁ She wanted. It burned in her chest so tightly it hurt, brushing against her ribs and pulling every time she caught a glimpse of your smile. The sound of your laughter made her stomach churn, knowing it wasn't because of her. Even the way you walked had her captivated, from the way your feet hit the ground, turning as you adjusted to upkeep conversation, seamlessly moving like a dancer.

☁ Just once she wanted you to dance around her, smiling like she was the same sun in your sky that you were in hers. Laughing at her jokes and spilling compliments unto her, holding her hand and kissing her cheek.

☁ Just the thought of it makes her cheeks burn before she's shaking the thought away.

☁ The shake of her head knocks whatever flashback she was reminiscing about loose, and she's back in med-bay, shoulders hunched as she fiddles with her blanket.

☁ It was a hard night, she remembers, a constant switch between throwing up whatever she could and clutching at her aching head. Cosmo was there, supporting her wherever she could, but to her surprise, you were there too. You were constantly moving from the med-bay, to wherever, returning to pass Cosmo something before dashing off again.

☁ It's a soft comfort, knowing you're there, and you're okay. She feared what had happened to you during the outbreak, but was caught where she was and left with the consequences.

☁ Cosmo had told her that you were the one to rescue her, briefly explaining the entire situation. You had risked your own life to save her own, and her chest ached at the thought.

☁ To see you once more was a dream come true, but to know you had done that all for her was....exhilarating.

☁ Cosmo was mid-explanation of her injuries when you made a return for longer than a second, looking exhausted, but still upright. You perked up when you noticed her gaze on you, giving a happy little wave. "Ginger! Good to see you awake! I hope the nurse hasn't been giving you a hard time." You joke, circling around behind Cosmo even as he shoots you a look.

☁ "Bite me." The cake rolls huffs, making you snicker as you angle your head to flutter your lashes at him. "I already diiiid." You laugh even as he swats at you.

☁ Ginger giggles at your antics, loving the mischievous smirk on your features even if Cosmo looks less then impressed by your antics. You settle quickly, diverting your attention to her with a far softer smile on your features. "How are you feeling?"

☁ "Okay." She responds, already feeling that familiar flutter return to her chest. You nod at this, perching yourself at the end of her bed as one of your hands gently sets itself on her leg. The very action makes her nervous system shudder, cheeks turning a softs pink as she pulls her hair over her shoulder to play with it.

☁ "I'm glad." You breathe out and the very noise you makes as you lean back, running a hand over your forehead and down the back of your head. The relief makes your shoulders sag, the evident (In hindsight) ease in tension relaxing the muscles in your face. You look older like this, more experienced, even if your youth peaks through in hints she knows to look for.

☁ It's in the same shine of your eyes, even as they haze a bit, unfocused but sharp nonetheless. Trained to pinpoint the slightest bits of movement, yet eased enough now they only look at Cosmo. She can watch in real time as the color of your eyes fills itself with something new. It's hearty and bright, nearly making your eyes gleam like an angel's. She knows what it is, and what hurts more is that there's something else there. There's a comfort there that's unique to you and him. Something that's always been there, and she's either remained ignorant or blissfully unaware of how to notice it.

☁ She can see it all now though. Much more clearly than she ever has before.

☁ It's comfort in the love you've found with Cosmo. It's the nervous butterflies of crushes and fresh romance that have settled and instead evolved into a home of reliability and adoration. It's the swell of your heart at the very sound of his name and the sight of him in any capacity, easing off the immediate jittery reaction into a softer, welcoming one that she's sure eases you more than anything else. It's the evolution of shy touches and evading eyes once they've been caught looking into lingering glances with cheeky quips and hands finding purchase in places they've traced a thousand times.

☁ There's other places she can see how young you look, especially in this light. It's in the way your fur falls, untamed and wild, windblown from the running, jumping and dodging you've done as a distractor. It's in your hands that carry a mass of scars. but no wrinkles. That are rough and calloused, but not worn and rigid. It's in your posture that slumps with fatigue and the weight of your responsibilities, not years of experience.

☁ Swallowing, she allows herself the one bit of comfort as she reaches and grabs your hand. It's not warm like she imagined, rather cool and clammy. You must clench your fists when you run and it must've cooled your palm since then.

☁ She gently drags the pads of her fingers along the lines of your palm before gently clasping your hand in her two. "Thank you. For what you've done."

☁ You blink at this and the tension returns, making her inwardly frown. But all you do is smile, that same, gentle and understanding twitch of your lips even as you avoiding look at her. No, you're looking at Cosmo.

☁ "No one really thanks me." You start, looking down at your lap for a second before returning to look at Cosmo. His own eyes are filled with the same look yours are and one of his hands find itself on your thigh. His knuckles flex as he gives it a gentle squeeze, as if urging you to continue. "So, thank you. But I truly don't think I'm worthy of it." Your lips upturn into a mischievous little thing. "Not if Sprout has anything to say about it."

☁ Cosmo scoffs. "With the amount of stress you bring to his life, I don't blame him." Her cousin shakes his head. "But. Ginger's right. You do deserve to be thanked."

☁ You don't look like you believe them, but let the subject drop with a optimistic little huff. "Well, if distracting is what it takes to meet some of the best people in my life," You pause and Ginger's heart practically shatters as your eyes immediately turn to Cosmo. He's already watching you and look that feels too intimate for her to witness laces his features. "It would have been worth it."

☁ The remnants of her chest collect into a dusted fragment that holds some sort of semblance to what it was before only to absolutely shutter and collapse once more as you shake off and stand, clapping your hands. She misses the feel of your touch and the warmth you provided simply by being there. It's momentarily made worse by the fact that you turn so Cosmo is in your immediate vicinity first, rather than turn to her first, even if you end up facing them both.

☁ "I have to get going. Sprout caught me on my last little run to get supplies and made me promise to get something to eat or else he would, and I quote, 'drag my sorry ass to the kitchen'." You shrug at this, even if Ginger has to hide a giggle behind a hand. Cosmo waves you off with a roll of his eyes. "Sure, sure, blame it on the warden. Maybe your just sick of my company."

☁ You fake an affronted gasp, holding a hand to your chest even as your lips tilt into a smirk far too charming to mean you took any real offense. "Me? Tire of you? Puh-lease." You lean down, gently cupping Cosmo's cheek before pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

☁ The simple action softens her cousin by a rather drastic degree, making his shoulders fall and his tail wag. She has to look away from the act for just a second, looking back before either of you can notice.

☁ You separate with a wave and promises of seeing Cosmo during bedtime, giving a final well wishes to Ginger before leaving. You were out of sight before long and Ginger swallowed the suddenly thick lump in her throat.

☁ Looking over, she watched Cosmo, who was looking at where you left with the same lovesick grin he used to wear pre-outbreak. It was just as dazed and awestruck as it was then, even if it's tampered by the familiarity of knowing you and your isms' and your little habits. She's sure Cosmo has become more than well-acquainted with you and who you are, your character and your person. She's sure he's even been witness to your very spirit and soul in the early cracks of down, bearing witness to your freshly awoken mind as you lace nothing but sweet nothings about and to him within the early air between you two.

☁ "You look happy." She says, despite herself. It seems to stun her cousin as he blinks before turning to her, all rosy cheeks and wagging tail as he holds the palm of his hand to his cheek, probably feeling the heat there.

☁ "I am." He breathes out. "They- All of them just..." He seemingly can't find the words, kicking his feet just a bit. "They make me want to be a better person. I just- I can't explain it."

☁ She could. She could explain all too well how she wants nothing more than to be the person you think of her as. To improve herself so that she may one day hold even a candle to the image you have of her and hopefully repay all the kindness you have ever shown. To be the person she wishes to be if only to ease your own burdens and the responsibilities you've placed on your own shoulders, just to see the beam of your smile once more.

☁ She wonders how things may have changed if she had been selfish, just once. How it could've been her, holding your hand and sharing a bed with you. How it could've been her that you look at like no one else is in the room. It could've been her that shares inside jokes and small little bouts of laughter with you. It should've been her.

☁ A flicker of a thought passes that it still could be her, but as she looks at Cosmo, it immediately wilts. She could never take that away from him, not even in a fantastical thought that blisters and pops the seconds its prodded.

☁ "You don't need too, it's written all over your face." She gently teases, and he rolls his eyes. He swats at her prodding hand, scoffing just a bit.

☁ "Oh stuff it." He scoffs, sliding off the bed. "I'm gonna go get you something to eat. You want a book or anything while I'm gone?" He looks back and she shakes her head.

☁ He takes this for what it is before leaving, shutting the door behind him and leaving her to her thoughts. Before she can stop them, they wander straight back to you, despite every effort she tries to make to remind herself that your not hers to think about. She buries her head in her knees and clenches her fist, if only to numb herself from the reminder of feeling your touch against her hand.

☁ On the other side of the door, Cosmo stares at the plain white of it before retracting his hand with a sigh. He'd recognized the look on Ginger's face, having seen it a few too many times on Goob's, and his chest aches at the thought of putting his own cousin through the heartbreak of rejection. Yet, he can't bring himself to mend this injury. Not at the expense of himself. He'd spent too much of himself on others too constantly. You were his one reprieve from a lifetime of consistent giving. He wasn't sure what else he could give.

☁ If there was one thing he would never dream of even thinking of giving up was his chance with you. He had worked too hard and given up too much of himself, his well-being, even his own sanity in the face of those twisteds. You and him and Sprout and Astro had worked too hard for far too long for anything to break that up.

☁ So while he wishes for his cousin to continue healing and her utmost happiness, he doesn't wish for it enough to give up you.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Lmk au idea.

Wukong isn't MK's teacher. At least, not in the same way he is in the show.

In this idea I had randomly pop into my head I'm thinking that Wukong had gone above and beyond simply vanishing for 500 years and hiding out on FFM. He straight up changed his identity and went into hiding as a mortal. He says fuck off to being a demon god, fuck off to all the gods and celestials and all his titles. He retires, fully and completely, passing his crown off to his Stalwarts and just becomes a wanderer traveling around, doing odd jobs and never staying in one place too long.

At some point over the centuries he ends up back in the village that he left his staff in, or rather, whay it became. A sprawling metropolis of a city that a person trying to disappear can easily do so. He set up shop, having had many hats over the years he's able to easily pick up a humble job nobody would blink twice at. Mechanics are always sorely needed in large cities after all.

One day at his shop a hauntingly familiar fave appears at his doorstep. Pigsy's truck had broken down while he was out with baby MK on a supply run and Wukong's shop had been the closest mechanic they could find. Wukong could sense something was special about MK, but not what or why and after he fixed up the truck he spent the next hour or so reminding himself that he is not Sun Wukong anymore, he is not part of that life anymore. Unfortunately, or fortunately, Wukong's mechanic work was something Pigsy liked, a lot. The truck was running smoother than if ever did before and the price was a steal! Wukong quickly became the favorite mechanic shop for Pigsy's Noodles and MK began to show up more often at the mechanic shop (he crashed a lot of stuff ok). Wukong ends up becoming the cool mechanic dude who helped teach MK how to mod his hoverboard and would often drop cryptic but helpful advice to the kid, Wukong having settled with the idea that he can look after the kid at least since it doesn't look like Zu Baijie's decendant or the kid were going to go away anytime soon. This led to meeting Tang and Mei, which were... experiences. And Wukong just ends up being a family friend to the Noodle Gang who likes cold vegetarian noodles.

Then a Hero is Born happens. Wukong hadn't been there for that experience. He was "on a supply run" when DBK was freed, he was in a different town entirely. So he wasnt physically present when MK became the Monkie Kid. It doesn't mean he wasn't completely uninvolved, though. Wukong isn't stupid, he knows DBK would eventually be freed, and he also knew it was possible someone else would pick up his staff. Afterall the staff had chosen him, not the other way around. It isn't unfeasable to imagine it'd pick another now that it's owner has put it down. Plus it isn't entirely impossible to imagine whoever it is would seek him out, he was the last known person to wield the Ruyi Jingu Bang after all.

He left a series of visions and astral projected recordings in his cave. The first being triggered should anyone breach his cave, the vision MK first sees when he enters Water Curtain Cave, only it doesn't stop at Wukong just running off. The projection speaks.

Wukong's recording. Looking as laid back and amused as can be: If you're seeing this, congrats! You got past my unstoppable barrier! Unfortunately I'm afraid that you won't be able to find me, as I would have been long gone from this place and am retired! So if your here for an autograph I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave.

MK: WHAT!?

Wukong's recording, becoming serious and almost sad: If you are a friend, however. I want to say I'm sorry, but please don't go seeking me out. I am hanging up my crown and title as the Great Sage and the Monkey King, and I don't not wish to be disturbed. Over the centuries I've come to realize my whole life I've done nothing but hurt the people I care about, so... for everyone's sake... I'm disappearing so that I can't hurt anyone again. Ever. And if you find my staff, I'm sorry I can't be there to help you. But I'll give you a piece of advice I learned, believe in yourself. Even just a smidge can make all the difference.

MK is gobsmacked at the thought that Sun Wukong had just up and left like that, that he's been gone for a long time and won't be able to help. He decides if Wukong wasn't there to be a hero anymore, he'd do it for him. Just a smidge makes a difference, right?

And so the Monkie Kid becomes the Monkie Kid. Over the next season or so he struggles a lot with his powers, not having a proper mentor. See, unlike the rest of the Noodle Gang, since Wukong wasn't physically present when MK became the town hero he isn't ever explicitly told it's MK. MK literally just forgets to mention it to him, but he does his best to help where he can. Giving advice where he can.

Most everything else was done without his input, altho MK did find it weird that the Calabash seemed to think his mechanic friend was the Monkey King. It's the first hint he ever has that Wukong was not as he seemed, but he write it off as him simply thinking of Wukong as a mentor figure since he's always been supportive and gave helpful advice and the Calabash substituting the Monkey King for Wukong.

Even the Macaque episode was done mostly without his input, altho a certain black furred monkey was not happy that his attempt to lure Wukong out didn't work at all. Wukong had been busy with renovations to expand the shop at the time, thus where the "step into the strike" advice came from since MK had been helping Wukong with tearing down the wall.

The big reveal about Wukong being the Monkey King only happens during Revenge of the Spider Queen, when Wukong has no choice but to step in as the Monkey King. And believe me, he is absolutely not happy about the matter. He doesn't run away once everything is done and over, but it's very clear that he is upset by the way he avoids everyone and jsut sits curled up on the rooftop. When asked why he never told them, especially knowing MK was using his staff, he first points out MK had never explicitly told him about the whole Monkie Kid business so he had no reason to "know" anything about it. Then he jsut points to the destroyed city.

Wukong: This is what happens everytime the Monkey King appears. Destruction, death, and chaos. I didn't want to be that anymore.

This spun off from a convo on how Wukong likely felt abandoned by his mentor(s), beginning with Subodhi, the allies he made in Heaven before the war, Guanyin, and even Tripitaka when the monk passed.

Wukong, going by just "Wu", drifting along the centuries living a mortal life. Packs up and leaves whenever conflict or war breaks out, or when people start to get suspicious.

His number one rule? Never get attached. Never again...

He becomes a mechanic (a real "grease monkey" if you will). Although he loves medicine and herbalism, it simply has too many paper trails. Also cars are fun to tinker with and don't talk back most of the time. Less likely to make a connection.

He eventually returns to the village where he lay his Staff down for good. Just seemed right coming up to the 500 year anniversary of one of his biggest regrets. The village has since become a sprawling mega-city, open to humans and demons alike. There he plants his roots.

The biggest shock of his life comes when he sees his brothers faces and souls all over again. Three in new bodies, and one in the same. A certain fish demon had pretended he didnt recognise him, and Wu returned the courtesy - seems he wasn't the only one from the old days to retire.

He wonders if it was the right decision to settle in Megapolis...

Until the day Pigsy knocks on Wu's shop, breathless and carrying a wiggly baby human (?). His food truck had given up the ghost and the cook desperately needed repairs asap! Wu simply couldn't turn him away.

Through the conversation and the repair process, the wiggly baby maybe-human had stared at the monkey demon with absolute wonder. Wu isn't sure why until he overhears the cub blabble something into his father's ear.

MK: "Mon-ken." Pigsy, fond sigh: "No MK, that's not the Monkey King. He just looks like the drawing in your Baba's book." Wu, nearly drops the truck on himself: "Eh?" Pigsy, little embarassed: "Oh! Sorry. The piglet is convinced that you're the Monkey King. My partner researches mythology and stuff, and he fills the kid's head with all sorts of ideas." Wu, rolls out from under the truck with a cheeky smile: "It's no problem. You'd be surprised how often I get mistaken for him! Think its the fur." (*Wu shares a glance at MK, the baby human is still staring at him unconvinced. Wukong makes a unsubtle shush motion and winks - causing the little human to wiggle once more with joy. Pigsy sighs fondly once more, knowing that the boy will most definitely hold this moment dear throughout his childhood*)

With that one chance meeting, Wukong breaks his number one rule; Never get attached.

It's not his fault he fixed the truck so good that Pigsy became a loyal customer! And the pig demon began tipping him with free cold vegetarian noodles. And that the scholar at the shop and him started info-dumping together! And that the little human began seeing him as a beloved uncle...

Oh yeah. Wu is in too deep. Hopefully nothing too chaotic happens within the next few years or so >:3

You can say a certain monkey demon nearly had a heart attack when he learned that someone had finally taken up his Staff - and that it was his little buddy!! Also Sandy is back in the gang, so they can't pretend that they dont know each other for long.

Wu would *like* to step up and reveal himself as the Monkey King to MK - but he feels that would just make things so much worse. The kid's trust in him would shatter immediately. So it's better to leave his projections on FFM to do the physical training, and for Uncle Wu to provide him with much-needed emotional guidance.

Sharing this dm you sent in particular based on the "Macaque" episode cus it's a tasty piece of dialogue:

MK: "Is it really better to focus your power into every attack?" Wu: "Hm, that's a lonely way of thinking. And dangerous. Look at this hammer I use for example, it's strong but if I'm not careful an just bang away at metal, it'd hit hard but it'd cause more damage to myself and the people around me. But if I were to... step into the swing so to speak and not depend on the hammer but rather my own strength, it's easier to control and has less risk of hurting myself."

He had been doing renovations on the wall to expand his business at the time, thus why he was banging at the wall with a hammer.

Eventually the episode ends with Macaque calling desperately out to the battlefield - almost begging for his king to reappear. The shadow monkey is so occupied in his despair and anger that MK manages to slip free and reclaim his power.

MK promptly bullies Macaque into actually mentoring him. Macaque chuckles at the nerve of this kid, and agrees - but only as a truce until Wukong returns. After that, Macaque expects a rematch.

Unironically loving this AU

[semisasseater]

WHEN LIFE DEALS US CARDS MAKE EVERYTHING TASTE LIKE IT IS SALT ─ se-mi

⤷ 𝒯𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘵

pairing : gf!se-mi x fem!reader tw : Mentions of grief, loss of a sibling, mild angst, but mostly fluff and comfort. summary : an afternoon of laughter turns unexpectedly bittersweet when a simple nail-painting session with Se-mi reminds you of your late sister. an old grief resurfaces, Se-mi quietly shifts from teasing to comforting, taking the brush into her own hands to paint your nails instead— wc : 822 authors note : i have so many requests to actually lock in and finish (3 since this is the first one im doing.) so im actually gonna stop being a LAZY bum and lock in. ALSO IM TWEAKING OUT MY GABBY MY GABBY MY GABBY MY GABBY IM SHAKING. Not proofread.

if you enjoyed likes or reblogs would be amazing! feedback is appreciated also requests are open!!

Se-mi sat crisscross on the floor, her hands resting on your hands as you struggled to paint her nails. The little bottle of polish teetered dangerously close to tipping over, and your grip on the brush was so unsteady from laughter that you’d already managed to streak a thin line of color across her fingertip.

“You—You’re so bad at this” Se-mi snickered, her deep brown eyes watching you with amusement.

“Hey! It’s not that bad,” you argued, though the evidence was very much against you.

Se-mi smirked, lifting her pinky. “What do you call this?”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress another laugh. The polish had bled onto her skin, pooling awkwardly at the edges of her nail. “It’s uh… abstract art?”

She shook her head, grinning as she flicked your forehead lightly. “You’re lucky you’re cute otherwise I’d be rethinking this”

You gasped dramatically. “Se-mi! How dare you?”

Her shoulders shook with laughter, and you found yourself giggling along, the warmth between you both as light as the gentle breeze coming through the open window. It was one of those rare, peaceful afternoons—where neither of you had anywhere to be, and the weight of the world felt like a distant thing.

Your hands, still trembling from laughter, reached for another one of her fingers. But as you steadied yourself, your mind suddenly transported you somewhere else.

You saw small hands—your own, much younger—delicately painting another set of nails. A tiny voice giggling beside you, one that belonged to someone long gone. Your sister.

The sound of your own laughter faded, replaced by a dull ache in your chest. Your hand trembled again, but this time, it wasn’t from laughter. It was from the grief curling its way through your ribs, spreading like an ink stain.

“Hey” Se-mi’s voice softened. You blinked, realizing that your vision had blurred. You hadn’t even noticed the tears welling up until one of them slipped down your cheek, landing silently on the back of your hand.

Se-mi didn’t say anything at first. She didn’t push, didn’t ask for an explanation right away. Instead, she gently took the brush from your hand and set it aside. Then, she scooted closer, wrapping her fingers around yours. “Come here”

You let her pull you into her arms, your forehead resting against her shoulder. The scent of her—fresh laundry, a hint of her shampoo—grounded you, but it didn’t stop the ache completely.

“I used to do this with my sister” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “When we were kids… I’d paint her nails and we’d always make fun of how bad I was at it just like now”

Se-mi’s arms tightened around you. “She must’ve really loved you”

You nodded against her shoulder. “She did.. and I miss her a lot.”

Se-mi exhaled slowly before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. “I’m sorry baby” she murmured, brushing her thumb against your cheek.

Then, without another word, she picked up the nail polish bottle and twisted it open again.

You frowned, sniffling. “What are you doing?”

Se-mi raised an eyebrow. “I think it’s only fair I return the favor”

She took your hand in hers, steadier than your own had ever been, and carefully began painting your nails. Her strokes were slow, precise—nothing like your wobbly, laugh-ridden attempts.

“I can’t promise it’ll be perfect” she said, eyes focused on your fingers.

You let out a watery laugh. “I think you’re already better than me”

Se-mi smirked but didn’t look up. “That’s not saying much”

You nudged her lightly with your foot, and she finally glanced up at you—her expression soft, warm. “You’re not alone okay?” she said quietly “Even if it hurts even if you miss her… I’m here.”

Your heart clenched, but this time, it wasn’t just from sadness. It was from love.

You squeezed her hand. “I know”

And as Se-mi continued painting your nails with a gentle sort of devotion, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you were starting to heal slowly but surely, and your girlfriend was there for you every step.

@semisasseater

[desideriumwriter]

Anyone But You | Chapter 16

Summary: You really shouldn't have gone to Lee's party, you shouldn't have drank so much, you shouldn't have let your jealously take over, you shouldn't have let Fred see you at all that night.

WC: 1.9k

A/N: short but messy as HELL, sorry yall

Series Masterlist | F.W Masterlist | Previous | Next | Navi

Going to that party was a mistake, you knew it the second you walked through the doorway. You knew it the moment Alicia walked in, followed by a tall ginger boy. You knew it when the alcohol on the kitchen island began to feel like comfort.

Yet, you told yourself you weren’t going to let Fred’s presence ruin your night, like you had let it ruin your mood for years.

It wasn’t just Fred’s presence that was ruining it. It was the fact that Fred showed up to the party with someone. Another girl. A date. 

You had no idea if Alicia and Fred were together, you had no idea what their relationship status was. But whatever thing they seemed to have going on, it put a weird feeling in your stomach. An uneasy one.

It was that same feeling of envy that you had when you saw him and Angelina at the Yule Ball, the feeling that you tried to convince yourself it was caused by the envy of Fred having someone to take to the ball, and not the envy of someone having Fred.

That feeling would go ignored by you, pushed away and buried along with all the other intruding feelings Fred had made you feel.

After seeing them enter, you made it your mission to keep as far away from them as you could. 

You stayed with Angelina and Katie, drank, made awkward small talk, sat outside, talked to a random group of Hufflepuff kids outside, stood around, drank some more.

You were honestly quite content, maybe a little awkward, but you weren't completely miserable. The night had been going pretty good, there hadn’t been any issues at all. Yet.

Of course, until you split off from Angelina and Katie again. They both needed to use the bathroom and you promised you’d save their seats on the couch you were all sitting together on.

Angelina and Katie leaned against the hallway wall, stuck in the line of people that nearly wrapped around the corner.

“How long does it take for someone to piss, wash their hands, and go?”  Katie groaned, looking up and letting her head hit the wall. 

“Why don’t we just go to the bathroom upstairs?” Angelina suggested.

“Last I heard, a couple was getting busy in there.” Katie fake gagged and Angelina grimaced, her dramatic expression fell as she tilted her head over, being able to get a slight view of you waiting on the couch. Behind you, Fred and Alicia distanced away from you, talking to each other.

“You think Fred and Alicia actually have something going on?” Angelina said as she stared, Katie lazily looked over.

“Don’t know. I feel bad for Y/N though. She likes Fred, she just won’t admit it.” Katie sighed and shrugged.

“I wish she’d admit it, she says she's learned to tolerate him and George. But you don’t spend that much time thinking about someone unless you actually care about them, or what they’re doing.” Angelina tutted, “Besides, it seemed like Fred had eyes for her, at least for a moment. I don’t understand, Y/N was just starting to warm up to him. Now he’s off with Alicia.” Angelina shook her head disappointedly.

“Just how boys are. They’re always so confusing, always messing around, never truly clear about how they feel.” Katie inhaled, standing up as the line shuffled forward.

“You think they’ll ever get together? Y/N and Fred?” 

“Maybe. If Fred is clear about what he wants. And if she stops being so stubborn.”

Your leg bounced up and down as you waited, smushing yourself into the corner of the hard couch. Looking around the room at all the partygoers before your night was fucked.

A pair of girls that were unknowingly blocking your sight of the other side of the room moved to another spot in the house, revealing what they were covering.

Fred. Alicia. Sitting on the same chair and giggling at each other. Her sitting on his lap in the leather armchair. Her hand playing with a strand of his hair at the back of his neck. Their faces being way too close for comfort.

You could see Freds mouth moving, calling her a cute petname. It made you sick, seeing him use that term of endearment for someone. Someone that wasn’t you.

And that was your cue to leave. You needed to get out of there, away from them. You lost your friends in the sea of people that crowded the house, but you did find the kitchen, the overhead light shining down on the marble slab island covered with various bottles of alcohol and cups.

In that moment, the warmth of the alcohol going down your throat and into your stomach would be the only warmth you were going to get that night.

Then not soon after, you somehow ended up in a drinking challenge. It was between you and a random Ravenclaw boy, seeing which one of you could finish a row of shots quicker. Another attempt at a distraction.

You took shot after shot, slamming the glasses down on the counter as you beat the boy next to you. You were cheered and applauded by party goers surrounding the kitchen counter. The cheering and liquor made you so brave that eventually you picked up a bottle of fire whiskey and drank straight from it. The cheering grew louder.

Fred, of course, followed the noise with a smile, wanting to see which dumb kid was playing a drinking game now. Only to realize you were that dumb kid as he approached the crowd watching you chug down the liquor.

His face dropped as he saw you, his curious smile turning into a worried frown. You made eye contact with him as you put the now-half finished bottle down. 

Grimacing at the taste then smiling spitefully, raising your arms up in the air at the ovation you were getting. You moved your way through the crowd after taking a random beer can with you, giving high fives to other random drunk kids. You just wanted to get away from Fred. Again.

Yet Fred followed, he caught up and grabbed your shoulder, turning you around. You angrily stepped, more of a drunken stumble, away from his touch before taking another drink from your beer.

“Come on, put that down. You shouldn’t have anymore, you’re gonna drink yourself sick.” He said, taking the can from your hands.

“What are you? My fucking caretaker?” You spat at him, trying to take the drink back. He ended up chugging it, so you couldn’t take it back. You gawked at him.

“What the hell?- So I can’t drink but you can? What the hell is your problem?”

“I’m not the one who's going to have a splitting headache in the morning. I’m trying to keep you from making it worse.” He put the can down on a random side table.

“Whatever. Why don't you just leave me alone and go back to flirting with Spinnet?” You rolled your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What are- Are you jealous?” Fred narrowed his eyes, sticking his head out at you.

“Oh that’s where we’re going now?” You let out a faux laugh, looking at him in disbelief. You weren’t really sure what made you, but you turned away and wobbled your way down the nearest empty hallway. Wanting to escape from Fred.

But of course, Fred with his long legs followed suit. You made your way into a random master bedroom and tried to slam the door right in his face.

“I’m not gonna have you walk away from the conversation.” Fred said as he pushed open the door, closing it behind him. “What is your problem?”

“What’s my problem? What the fuck is your problem? You go and act like you’re in love with me and then you go off and start messing around with another girl.” You spat out, poking your index finger into his shoulder before crossing your arms.

“Are you seri- You’re the one that kissed me!” Fred exclaimed, face full of confusion.

“Yeah? Well, you kissed me back!” You threw your arms up and turned your back to him. You knew your argument was going nowhere, this was pointless. 

“Well I’m sorry that for a moment I thought there could’ve been some sort of thing between us.”

“You keep- God- I can’t- You are so insufferable!” You shouted at him, the combination of the loudness of your voice and how close the two of you were made Fred flinch.

“Yeah. I could say the same about you.” He let out an angry breath, jaw clenching.

“Oh, fuck you!” You pushed Fred, your blood was hot and the effects of your were beginning to flow through you. 

“You always make me so…” You trailed off, eyes glossy as you stared at him with awe. Why was he always so pretty?

And in what felt like a flash, you were pulling onto his sweater vest and bringing his lips to yours. He grabbed onto the sides of your face and pushed back into the kiss.

It was messy, it was sloppy, it lasted longer than the last time. 

You both pulled back at the same time to finally breathe, your lips swollen and chests taking in deep breaths. His hands were still holding your face while yours were still holding onto his vest.

“What are we doing? What are you doing?” Fred sighed, clearly exhausted. “Why won’t you just admit you love me?”

"I don't want to love you." You swallowed, a shaky breath leaving you. 

"But you do." 

"I don't know if I do."

Fred dropped his hands to his sides, stepping back and leaning against the dresser behind him. He threw his head back, shaking it in disappointment.  Saying nothing, he headed for the door, you stopped him.

“Wait! I- please don’t leave.” You begged, grabbing his hand and pulling.

“Why are you doing this to me?” He drew out, punctuating the sentence using your name. “I don’t understand. You spend years hating my guts. You kiss me then you run away, you come back and want to be friends,” He paused, taking a second to rub a hand down his face. 

“Then you get mad when i’m hanging around another girl, you kiss me again and say you don’t want to love me, then beg me to stay? I don’t understand you, I really don’t.” He sighed.

I don’t understand myself either. You wished you could say, you stayed silent instead, lip quivering. Guilt burning a hole in your stomach.

“Why can’t you just come to your fucking senses?” He sighed, sounding and looking like a disappointed parent. He mumbled an apology, screwing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“I’m begging for you to make up your mind.” He added, bringing his hands up and then dropping them back at his sides.

You couldn’t say anything, the lump in your throat stopping you. You were clenching your jaw so hard you could break a tooth, trying to fight back any more tears from falling, though you failed. There was no point, you were at a loss. He was right.

“You shouldn’t be crying over me, you're wasting your tears.” Fred muttered as he swiftly walked out the room, shutting the door behind him. 

You let out a loud sob as you sat down on the bed behind you. Crying like a child while you raked your hands in your hair.

tell me what you thought here! <3 or ask tba to the taglist for this series!

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@hornyforyourb1tch @394pitterpatterpotter394 @discomago

[room-surprise]

It IS very vague and some of that is because of Japanese language, and some of it is because characters don't have names (his brother, his crush) and also there are a lot of information gaps where one could assume a lot of things.

We should note that when World Guide came out, Kui hadn't yet drawn the comics about Mithrun's recovery, or completed the manga. She may not have had the details fully worked out yet, or she may have wanted to make it as vague as possible to avoid telling readers too much information or writing herself into a corner. She just knew that Milsiril showed up and told Mithrun she saw a demon in Utaya, and that's what motivated him to get out of bed and return to the Canaries.

I always assumed that Mithrun was sent to join the Canaries as soon as he became an adult (like Pattadol, like many mandatory military services in the real world, including ancient Greece), and so was living in military barracks ever since he left home...

This assumption is also built on the fact that people getting their own homes and moving out just because they attained legal adulthood is a relatively modern idea, and usually even when people got married back in earlier eras, they would just move into the family home of one of the spouses, depending on the culture and time period. Living alone was uncommon and usually meant you didn't have anyone, or you had gone far from home for some professional reason (school, job, etc).

The only reason I could see for Mithrun leaving home would be if his family was trying to hide him, but I feel like Kui would have mentioned that if it were the case, since that would have had a big impact on him I think.

But you could also assume that the Canaries taking people that young is a new phenomenon and has only started since Utaya, and because we don't have a canon confirmation we can't say for certain! And you could assume that elven society is a lot more modern than the rest of the Dungeon Meshi world, and that single people sometimes live alone.

Hiring extra servants to take care of Mithrun after he was hurt, no matter where Mithrun was living, seems logical to me. Even if Mithrun was living in the family home, I can't imagine his brother (who is physically disabled, sickly, and also wealthy) personally giving him the physical care that he needs when he's bed bound. That kind of work is something servants would do, both because it's seen as menial and because it would be a 24/7 job for multiple able-bodied people.

I also always interpreted the servants taking care of Mithrun as being specialized servants, like healers or nurses (because of the way they're drawn and their matching outfits), since he doesn't need normal servant assistance (helping him dress for fancy parties, cooking fancy dinners for parties he is hosting), he needs medical help at that stage of his life.

And as for Milsiril... like you said, there's nothing about the scenes where they're shown together that tells us where it's taking place, it could be at a hospital, it could be at the Kerensil family home, it could be Mithrun's home... The only place it probably isn't is Milsiril's house, because she shows up wearing her Canary uniform and says "I'm visiting" and then mentions that "they" told her things about Mithrun's health... Implying someone is taking care of him and Milsiril learned about it from them.

Sorry this got a little bit long, my point is, I completely understand your assumptions and that's why I wanted to explain some of mine as well (and point out where I'm making assumptions as well, and why!)... But ultimately this is all speculation and assumption until Kui explicitly tells us more.

帰る does indeed mean come home. It can mean "return" but the implication is returning "home." いつでも is whenever and 帰って来い is the request "come return home" so in this case at least Yen Press got it right.

I see

Mithrun during his recovery would barely leave his bed so it wouldn't make sense for him to be the one to go visit

Smh EHScans can I trust nobody

[miniwheat77]

Lies. (Captain Price x Reader.)

!SHORT FIC, nsfw, smut, price being a meanie, p in v sex, unprotected sex, pregnancy, MINORS DNI!

��Why don’t you have any kids Cap?” Ghost asks.

“Ah, old man’s been shooting blanks since his 20’s.” Gaz smirks. “Christ Garrick.” Price rolls his eyes. “He’s not wrong but.. I’m unable to have kids.” He sighs. “I’m sorry to hear.”

“It’s alright. After I broke up with my high school sweetheart, I didn’t want any.” He laughs. “Why not?”

“Terrible break up, didn’t want to go through it again.” He sighs. “Understandable.”

That's also what he told you when the two of you got too drunk at the bar. The entire task force had gone out drinking. Those are the words he whispered into your ear when you whined about him finishing inside of you.

Neither of you know how it happened, too much to drink. Shared glances. It led the both of you to being in the pub bathroom. Luckily the music was loud enough to conceal the sound of the two of you in the bathroom. You shouldn't have trusted him about it, but he was your Captain after all. You trusted him with your life.

He had a death grip in your hair, your face pressed up against the wall as he hammered his hips into yours. “Wait- you don’t have a condom on Captain.” You hiss. “I can’t have kids, just trust me.” He growls.

“Fuck!” You hiss. Tightening around him.

———

A few weeks later, you're approaching him. You've got the stick behind your back.

"Y/N? What can I do for you?" He asks. The two of you hadn't spoken about what happened that night. You'd kept it to yourselves and returned the professional relationship the two of you shared before.

“Just had a question. Are… are you sure you can’t have kids?” You’re standing in front of his desk. He's looking at his laptop on the other side. “Yeah. Why?”

“You’re completely sure?” You swallow hard.

“Yeah, the girlfriend I had in my 20’s made me get tested, opened the envelope herself.”

“Hm..” you mumble. “What’s going on?” He asks.

“I think she faked your results sir.”

“What? Why do you say that?” He puts his pen down, finally looking at you. “Because. You’re the only person I’ve slept with and I’m very pregnant.” You raise the pregnancy test. He freezes up. “What? Y/N… that’s not possible.” He sighs. “It clearly is. I haven’t slept with anyone else.”

He shakes his head. “Y/N. I don’t know why you’d lie about this. But it’s very out of character.” He sighs. Your eyes widen, you can't believe him. "You're joking. I'm not lying about this."

He shakes his head. "Excuse yourself from my office please." He sighs.

You can't believe this.

———

It's a few weeks later.

John decides to confide in Gaz about it. He talks to him about how he thinks it's best you're removed from his base and relieved of your duties on the task force, seeing as you're pregnant. Gaz approaches you and knocks at your door.

You answer it, seeing the look on his face.

"What's going on Gaz?" You ask.

He sighs. Pushing past you. "He... he told me about what happened. He sent me here to... tell you that he's taking you off the base."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"No.. sorry Y/N." He mumbles.

"Okay. Whatever. Nothing I can do to change it."

"Is it really his?" He asks. You look at him, bewildered that he'd even ask that. "Yes. It's his. I haven't been with anyone else in years, you know that Gaz. We were drunk and..." You trail off with a groan. "I can't believe him." You sit down on your bed. "Could always prove it to him with DNA." He shrugs. "I guess so but obviously he doesn't want this so I guess I'll figure things out on my own. Thanks for stopping by Gaz. How long?" You ask.

"He said he's starting the paperwork today. A month at most." He nods.

You turn your back to him and he feels bad. He doesn't know what to believe.

———

A couple weeks later, John is in the grocery store.

“John?”

He turns to look at her, he hasn’t seen her in years. Not since they’d split up in his 20’s.

“I almost didn’t recognize you.” She smiles. “Oh. Hey.” He nods.

“Still in the military I see.” She smiles. “Uh.. yep. Captain now.”

“Married? In a relationship?” She asks. “Oh uh.. it’s complicated.” He laughs. “Really.” She smiles. “I figured you’d be married with kids by now.” She laughs. He freezes. “Uh.. yeah."

Kids? Why would she say kids?

"I actually had a question I’ve been waiting to ask.” He throws the box of granola bars into his cart. “Did you fake that paperwork all those years ago?”

She laughs. “I did. Yes. I wasn’t ready for kids and didn’t know how to tell you.” She laughs. “You.. did know that. Right?”

“Yeah, course I did. I’ve got a baby on the way.” He mumbles. “On the way? Jesus.” She laughs. “Late.”

He nods. “Yeah. Very late.” He laughs. “I’ve.. I’ve actually got to get going.” He turns away. Leaving the cart behind.

He has a fucking baby on the way.

She thinks it’s weird, but John was always secretive.

When John is out of her sight, he’s in a full sprint to get to his truck.

He reaches the base, surprised by the fact that he doesn’t get pulled over on the way with how fast he’s going.

He gets inside, hurrying down hallways. Nearly running right into Gaz. "Captain? What's going on?" He asks. He takes a deep breath. Wiping his face. "I'm an idiot, that's what. I just ran into my ex-girlfriend and she told me she faked those results all those years ago and that fucking baby is mine. Do you know where Y/N is?" he asks. He's out of breath. "I think she's just getting ready to leave, Captain. Better hurry." He smiles. He watches him rush down the hallway to your room. A story he didn't expect he'd ever tell between the two of you.

He should knock but forgets completely, barging right into your room. A gasp leaves your lips and you scramble to cover yourself. “Shit! I- sorry.” He should cover his eyes but doesn't. Shutting the door behind himself. “Christ John! What are you doing?” You throw a shirt over your head, but not before John sees it. Your growing baby bump.

He feels like such an ass.

“Y/N…” he sighs. Before you even have a chance to put pants on, he’s closing the gap between you. He grasps your hand, forcing you back into the bed behind you. You sit down on the edge and he drops right to a knee. He kisses the back of your hand. “I owe you… the biggest apology.” He sighs. “What? What’s going on?” You try to stand but he doesn’t let you. “I.. I found out that she did fake it. That.. I can have kids.”

He clenches his eyes shut, holding your hand to his face. “And I am so sorry for how I’ve treated you.” He breathes.

You don't know what to say. You just look down to where he's got your hands. You still don't have pants on.

"You should be sorry." You breathe. "I'm leaving tonight, thanks for the apology."

"You can't leave. Not yet."

"You signed that paperwork. You can't take it back now."

He shakes his head. "Yes I can." He stands.

"Why would you? You don't want this." You look up at him.

"This is my fault. I'm the one who..."

You look up at him, a sly smile on your lips. "Who what?"

You cross your arms. He raises his eyebrows. Surprised smile on his face. "Oh it's like that?" He laughs. "I'm the one who told you I couldn't have kids and came inside you."

"Yeah. I trusted you and you treated me like shit and called me a liar. You were gonna take me off your base."

"I swear I thought you were lying, I believed her when I shouldn't have. That fucking... snake." He sits down next to you. Pulling you into him. "I'm sorry darling. I am so fucking sorry." He sighs. You rest your head on his shoulder. "I'll forgive you but you better make it up to me." You roll your eyes. He laughs. "Anything you want doll. Swear on it."

"For now uh.. can I put pants on?"

He laughs harder than he should. "Yes. You have my permission to put pants on."

You punch his shoulder playfully. "I know exactly what I want, too."

"Yeah, what's that?"

———

"This is really what you wanted?" Gaz looks at you, leaning forward from the middle seat where he sits in the back.

You look happy as a clam in the passenger seat of your Captains truck. Mouth full of fries.

"Mhm."

You've got a McDonalds bag in your lap, having convinced John to take the entire task force to get McDonalds.

"Christ you're adorable." Gaz laughs.

"Maybe he should get her pregnant more often, since we get stuff out of it." Soap laughs. He's holding a burger in the back seat next to Gaz and Ghost. Gaz sits between the two of them. "Agreed." Ghost laughs. He's got his mask pulled up just enough to eat his food.

John rolls his eyes in the drivers seat. "Christ. Didn't even need to physically be able to have kids to have them."

He raises his own fries to his mouth. Each of you laughing.

———

“Oh. Hey again John.” She smiles. It’s the same store, a different isle this time. He glances at you, seeing you approach. “Oh um.. is this… your niece?” She asks. “No. This is Y/N. My wife.”

Her eyes nearly bulge out of her head. “Jesus.. didn’t realize you liked them so young John.” She laughs. “This her?” You side eye her while looking at him. He nods his head. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She laughs nervously.

“Oh.. nothing. He just mentioned something about a woman he’d had a past with. Something really fucked up she did where she told him he couldn’t have kids and he believed it for the longest time. Is.. is that really you?” You scoff. “I.. I mean I’ve done some fucked up things but that… that takes the cake.” You laugh. “I.. I was young and stupid-“

“Yeah. I mean. I have to thank you, it really worked out. I mean. John can really lay it down.” You cross your arms with a smirk.

“He has kids you know.” She mumbles. “Yeah. With me. And he’s a great dad.” You smirk. Stepping to the side. She can see your little girl sitting up in the cart. She’s chewing fiercely at her dad’s jacket. “Well.. congratulations. I have to get going.” She turns away.

He smiles. He liked seeing your aggressive side.

The both of you make your way up to check out, pushing your daughter in the cart.

"You alright?" You ask him. "Mhm." He sighs. Wrapping a hand around your lower back, tugging you closer to him.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard for that." He growls into your ear.

"Jesus!" You laugh.

[djloveyou3000]

No Escape From You

Ps this is not how shereen looks like they do have similar face shape shereens lips are more plumper and the eye is more Arab if you know what I mean but she looks different plus shereen looks like me but sometimes her hair looks like this and she dress like her sorry for the ramble hope you in joy 🥹

Shereen looked at her two boys, her eldest, Vladimir, and Nadim. She was sitting, wearing her dress, while her boys played on the floor. She had a soft yet sad, loving look as she watched them. Nadim looked exactly like his father, the only difference being that he had her hair color. The rest was all Russell Adler. Her heart ached. She remembered the last time she saw him, the day he betrayed her and shot her. She wondered what would have happened if he had known she was pregnant back then. Would he have still shot her? Would he have taken her away and faked her death? They could have had Nadim, and he would have gone to Russia and taken Vladimir. They could have been a happy family in America, living the dream with the white picket fence and a dog. Did he even love her when he kissed her? When he made love to her? Or when they were undercover, and a man flirted with her? Russell had gotten so mad—she’d never seen him like that. He had taken her so roughly and claimed she was his, Bell, his Bluebell.

I guess it was all a lie because if he loved her, he wouldn’t have shot her. Shereen didn’t feel her tears falling until she felt a few tiny hands wiping them away.

“Mama, are you okay?” they both asked.

She smiled, kissing them. “Yes, of course, my sweet boys. Mama’s okay. I just have something in my eyes.”

Vladimir, her seven-year-old, and Nadim, her not yet two-year-old, looked up at her with concern. She then played with them on the floor, letting them talk her ear off.

Her long, beautiful, elegant dress was navy, and she wore gold jewelry and elegant shoes. She always dressed like this when she wasn’t in the field. She didn’t go into the field anymore. When she came back here, her papa forbade it. His death had broken her.

Then, Stitch walks in, ruining the sweet moment. Shereen looks at him, annoyed, as he slammed into her boys, who were clinging to her. Nadim, being only two, starts crying. She shushes them gently while giving Stitch a glare.

“What do you want? You scared my boys,” she says sharply.

Stitch rolls his eyes. “They need to toughen up and be men.”

“They are children,” Shereen snaps.

“What do you even want?” she demands.

“I need you to come with me,” he says.

“I’m not leaving my children alone,” she retorts, holding them close.

“I’ll leave guards with them,” he says. At that, four guards walk in, their eyes fixed on her intensely, especially one of them. Then they look at the boys, particularly the same guard who eyes Nadim. Nadim, with his pacifier, is 19 months old. Both he and Vladimir, the adorable 7-year-old, look at them with curiosity and fear.

“I’m not leaving my sons with these strangers,” Shereen says firmly. “Whatever you want to tell me, tell me here.”

Stitch rolls his eye again. “They’ll be fine. Stop being overdramatic. You’re babying them.” His thick Russian accent rolls off his tongue.

Then, Stitch looks at Nadim and Vladimir, especially Nadim, and Shereen notices the guard who is staring at them deeply. The other guard clenches his fist, and his posture suggests he’s about to attack Stitch. The other guards notice and quickly hold him back.

“Didn’t I tell you to stop using that pacifier ?” Stitch says in disgust and venom, his voice thick with anger.

“Don’t speak to my son,” Shereen snaps.

Then Stitch cuts her off. “He’s a bastard. He looks just like his fucking father. I can’t believe you opened your legs like a whore for that American bastard who took my fucking eye. Can’t believe that little bastard survived when you got shot. Should have had a miscarriage. He looks so much like him. You know, I wonder how Adler would feel if I show him his dead bastard. But that bastard got away. I trapped him, tortured him, and brainwashed him to blow up a city until his little team found and rescued him. I know he’ll be back, and I can’t wait to tell him and kill the little shit.”

Shereen, unable to take it any longer, is about to murder him. Then she notices the dagger in his hand, and he speeds toward Nadim. But she’s quick to grab his wrist and shoulder before the guards can react. He grabs her roughly, and the kids scream,”MAMA” “GET OFF ME! I WILL KILL THAT BASTARD!” he yells.

Shereen keeps her cold gaze on him. “You will do no such thing.”

She hears the guards yelling, “Adler, calm down,” and the voice sounds familiar,

Her breath caught.

Her blood turned ice.

Her heart pounded in her chest.

The voice—

No but she focuses on Stitch, making sure he goes nowhere but hell. Then she processes what he said—he tortured and brainwashed Russell, but Russell was saved.

“FUCK! I HAD THAT BASTARD BUT HE GOT AWAY FROM ME!” Stitch snarls.

Shereen rolls her eyes. “Good for him. You lost. And honestly, he should have taken both of your eyes. Perhaps, when he comes back, he will.”

Stitch’s fury grows. “HOW DARE YOU, YOU WHORE? I WILL KILL YOU AND MAKE HIM WATCH. AFTER EVERYTHING HE’S DONE, YOU’RE STILL DEFENDING HIM. WHAT, DID HE FUCK YOU THAT GOOD? IS HIS DICK THAT GOOD?”

Without missing a beat, Shereen says, “Yes, he is. And you will never be an inch the man he is. Honestly, it’s exhausting watching you try to woo me. Have some shame. I will never marry you or let your shrimp dick near me. Even if it did, I wouldn’t have felt it. YOU BASTARD.”

Before he can respond, she kicks him in the balls, twists his arm, and kicks his leg. The guards tackle him, and one of them yells for Shereen to take the kids and go. That’s when she immediately recognizes the voice—Russell.

Before Shereen could do anything, the guards came in with guns, and Stitch yelled for them to kill them all. Shereen immediately grabs Nadim and Vladimir, while Mason, Woods, and Hudson take action. Russell shoots some of the guards and runs after Shereen. Stitch is with him, as they can’t attack the enemies without risking Stitch’s life.

Shereen leads them through an underground tunnel she knows, and they find a safe place. Once they’re all secure, Shereen comforts her two wailing children. “Shhh, it’s okay. You’re both safe. Mama is here,” she coos, bouncing them gently and kissing their foreheads.

She then looks at Mason, Woods, and Hudson. “Hey, kid,” Woods says with a grin. “Hi, Bell,” Masson adds. Hudson just watches her from under his aviators, while Russell looks at her deeply. His mask is off now, and he looks just as handsome as she remembers—his hair longer, with stubble. His eyes are filled with rage, worry, tenderness, and love as he looks at her and the boys.

Stitch’s dark chuckle cut through the heavy silence. “Well, well, what a fucking reunion.” “You know, I bet you scream his name when you’re alone with him,” Stitch jeers, his voice dripping with malice. “You really think you can protect them? You’re just a pathetic, delusional whore who can’t let go of that bastard.”

Russell’s jaw clenched.

“Shut up, you shithead ,” Woods snapped.

“Or what?” Stitch sneered. “Gonna put a bullet in me? Do it, then. But you won’t, not while I’m your only leverage.” His masked face turned toward Shereen, eyes narrowing. “You should’ve let me finish the job, sweetheart. Would’ve saved you the heartbreak when Adler inevitably leaves you again.”

Russell moved.

Faster than anyone could react, he slammed Stitch against the wall, pressing a forearm against his throat.

“Keep running your mouth, and I’ll rip your fucking tongue out,” Russell growled, voice dangerously low.

Stitch just laughed. “There he is,” he taunted. “The cold-blooded CIA lapdog. Tell me, does she know what you did after you shot her? How you drank yourself to sleep? How you almost put a bullet in your own—”

Russell punched him.

Stitch’s head snapped to the side. Blood splattered onto the ground.

“Shut. The fuck. Up,” Russell hissed.

Stitch just laughed. “There he is,” he taunted. “The cold-blooded CIA lapdog. Tell me, does she know what you did after you shot her? How you drank yourself to sleep? How you almost put a bullet in your own—”

The words hit Shereen like a gut punch. Her body went still, her breath catching in her throat. What? She blinked, her mind refusing to process what she had just heard. Russell… did what?

Her heart pounded in her chest, but it felt as though it was breaking at the same time. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Her mind swirled with disbelief, her vision starting to blur as her eyes welled with tears. No, no… that can’t be true. Not him. Not my Russell.

Her body trembled, her hands shaking as the tears began to fall. She hadn’t been there. She hadn’t seen what he’d gone through after she was gone. The thought of him—her strong, composed love—drinking himself into oblivion, broken and alone, tore through her like a dagger. He almost… he almost ended it all?

Her heart ached, a sharp, gut-wrenching pain that she couldn’t escape. She pressed her hand to her mouth, as though trying to hold in a sob that threatened to escape. Why didn’t he tell me? The betrayal of her death, the shock of hearing how deeply Russell had suffered in the wake of it—it was too much to bear. She couldn’t comprehend the weight of it.

All she could do was stand there, her breath shallow, feeling every ounce of his torment crashing down on her. How could he have been that lost?

Tears streamed down her face as the truth settled in. She had been dead—gone from his life, and all the while, he had been spiraling in his grief. The man she loved so much had been drowning in pain, thinking he would never see her again. She cried for him, for everything he had suffered, for everything she hadn’t known.

The tears blurred her vision, but they didn’t stop.

Shereen didn’t move.

“Shhh, my sweet boys,” she whispered breaking , pressing a kiss to each of their heads. “Mama is here. You’re both safe. No one will ever hurt you.”

Her voice was soothing, but her mind was racing.

Russell was here.

Alive.

In front of her.

Her heart pounded as she looked up at him. His mask was gone, revealing the face she hadn’t seen in years. He looked older—his hair was longer, his stubble thicker, but his eyes… his eyes were the same. Sharp. Piercing. Yet filled with something else now.

Something raw.

Rage. Worry. Shame. Love.

He was staring at her.

At the boys.

At Nadim.

And she could see the moment the truth hit him.

But before she could say anything—

Russell’s face darkens. “Bell, go hide the kids somewhere they can’t hear or see,” he says, his voice firm. She nods quickly and leaves.

She finds a quiet room to hide the boys. As she’s closing the door, she hears Stitch screaming in the distance.

She was there for a while, what felt like hours, sitting on the floor with the kids clinging to her, both having fallen asleep. Tears streaked down her face. Then she hears a knock, the one that she and Russell had used years ago. She responds with the knock, and the door opens. Russell rushes in, covered in blood. He immediately checks on her and the kids.

“Baby, are you okay? Sweetheart, are the babies okay?” he asks with deep worry as he cups her face.

She nods, “Yeah, yeah, we’re okay. They’re just shaken up, but they’re fine.”

He sighs in relief, then dives for a kiss. That kiss was a mix of asking for forgiveness, relief, anger, love, and fear. She kisses him back. Russell was hungry for it.

Hudson then calls out, “Can you not chew on each other’s face?”

Woods adds, “Yeah, don’t start making another kid now.”

Masson laughs, saying, “Yeah, do that later when you’re alone.”

They break the kiss, both of them blushing. Russell looks annoyed, and Shereen feels embarrassed, her cheeks turning even redder.

Russell pulled back, shooting Woods a glare while Mason and Hudson chuckled. Shereen, on the other hand, was blushing furiously, her already rosy cheeks darkening.

Russell helps her to her feet and gently picks up both children, kissing their heads. Shereen’s heart melts as she watches him treat them both the same, even though Nadim is his biological son and Vladimir is not. He treats them equally, showing them both the same care and affection.

Russell sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before gently lifting Nadim into his arms. The boy flinched slightly at first, but Russell just held him closer and pressed a soft kiss to his head. Then he reached out and pulled Vladimir into his side as well.

It didn’t matter that Vladimir wasn’t his by blood. He was Shereen’s, and that was enough for Russell. They were his boys.

He looked back at her, meeting her deep, emotional gaze.

“What happened?” Shereen asks, her voice soft with concern.

“Well, every soldier is dead, and Stitch… well, he’s more dead,” Mason says.

Woods and Hudson shudder a bit, clearly remembering what Russell did to Stitch. Russell smiles sadistically, his rage still visible. “The fucker had what was coming to him, touching and yelling at my girl and boys,” he mutters.

Shereen feels a rush of happiness, love, and a little bit of arousal at his words. She watches him, feeling a deep connection.

Russell notices her reaction and gives her a wink, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Alright, lovebirds, let’s get out of here.”

“Wait, my stuff and the kids?” Shereen asks, still a bit shaken.

Russell nods. “Already got it.”

They begin walking, and it’s pitch black outside. Shereen glances around, disoriented. “How long has it been?” she wonders aloud.

“A long time,” Russell answers, his voice steady.

They continue walking to the jet , and soon they arrive in America, finally back to safety.

The children had been bathed, fed, and were now peacefully asleep in their beds. The room was quiet, save for the soft sound of their breathing, a serene contrast to the chaos that had unfolded earlier. Shereen and Russell, though physically close, sat on opposite sides of the emotional battlefield, each dealing with their own thoughts. The weight of the events that had transpired hung heavy in the air.

Russell, unable to keep the turmoil within him any longer, suddenly collapsed to his knees in front of Shereen. His body shook with sobs as he buried his face in her waist, clutching her as if she were his anchor. The tears that had been threatening to fall finally broke free, leaving his face wet with guilt and sorrow.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” he muttered between sobs, his voice choked with anguish. “I was a coward. I followed orders… I should have broken them. I’m sorry I almost killed you, Bell. I’m so sorry. I should have protected you… I should have protected our family… I should never have let that bastard manipulate me…” His words were broken, scattered with raw emotion, and as he spoke, the weight of his regret was suffocating.

He lifted his tear-streaked face to look up at her, his eyes filled with shame and fear. “Vladimir would have been an orphan. And that bastard… Stitch, he could have done anything to him. He could have hurt him… I should have… I should have known better. Every night, I see you—” His breath hitched as he tried to speak, but he couldn’t form the words. His eyes welled with more tears as he recalled the nightmares of losing her.

Shereen, heart aching for him, gently placed her hands on his face, guiding his eyes back to hers. “Russell please my love, stop,” she whispered, her voice soft but firm. She could feel the intensity of his pain, the way he carried the burden of his past mistakes. “I forgive you.”

She knelt beside him, pulling him into an embrace as he collapsed against her once again, this time letting all the pain, the guilt, and the fear flood out of him. His sobs and screams were deep, unrelenting, and it broke her heart to see him like this. She held him tightly, her own tears falling as she felt the weight of everything he had endured.

“I failed you, Bell Shereen ,” he murmured between sobs. “I failed our family. Stitch—he… he kept telling me he was going to kill Nadim, and that he’d marry you… give you children… while he tortured me. I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t protect you from him. I couldn’t protect you from me…” His voice broke with self-loathing, but Shereen refused to let him spiral deeper.

She gently cupped his face in her hands, wiping away his tears, her touch tender and soothing. “You didn’t fail us, Russell. You made a choice, a terrible one, but you’re here now. And that’s what matters.” She kissed his forehead, his eyes, and then his mouth, each kiss soft, full of emotion, full of forgiveness. She could feel the weight of the years they had lost, the pain of their separation, and the love that had never really faded.

His lips responded to hers with a hunger that came from the depths of his soul. It was a kiss that spoke of forgiveness, longing, and relief. Their lips moved together, the kiss growing deeper, more desperate. Russell pulled her closer, his hands sliding to her back as if he couldn’t get close enough. His touch was tender but urgent, as if he needed to make sure she was real, that she wasn’t going anywhere.

Shereen clung to him, her hands threading through his hair, feeling the roughness of the stubble on his jaw and the warmth of his skin. She knew this kiss wasn’t just about love—it was about healing, about mending what had been broken between them. She could feel the intensity of his emotions, the rage and guilt, but also the love that had never left.

The kiss deepened further, fueled by the years of separation and pain. Russell shifted, his hands moving to lift her, and he laid her gently back on the bed clothes off bodies together . The movement was fluid, intimate, and as he hovered above her, his lips found hers again, this time with a fiercer intensity. She responded in kind, the kiss growing more urgent as they gave in to the need to feel connected, to reassure each other that they were still there, still alive, still in this together.

As they continued, Russell’s hands moved to her body with reverence, as if he was rediscovering every part of her, every curve, every line. He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, and in that moment, there was a promise—silent but clear. “I’ll protect you. I’ll protect the kids,” he whispered fiercely, his breath ragged. “No one will ever hurt you or them again. I swear it.”

Shereen could see the determination in his eyes, the depth of his conviction. It wasn’t just words—he meant it. And she believed him.

As their love unfolded, as they both gave in to their desire, Russell slid a ring onto her finger, sealing the promises they had made to each other in their hearts. The gesture was simple but profound, and Shereen couldn’t help but smile through her tears, feeling the warmth of his love wrap around her like a shield.

When they finally paused, their breaths mingling, their bodies entwined, Russell kissed her forehead and whispered softly, “I love you, Bell. And I’ll never let you go.”

“I love you too, Russell,” she replied, her voice steady but filled with all the emotions that had been building between them. “You’ll never lose me again.”

And with that promise, they fell asleep in each other’s arms, their hearts finally at peace, knowing that they would face whatever came next together.

[alaia777]

omg I got so excited when I saw your recent post😚😚 can I request “of course it’s you, confessing to someone at a time like this!” OR “we should just run away” with rin?🙏🏼 tysmmmm🫶🏼

helloooo! i might’ve gone a little crazy with this one—it’s got like 1800 words—but i really hope you like it! :’)

you heard from the cashier at the store that rin was back in town. you lived a couple of houses down from his parents place, but you two were never really close. sure, you were in the same class, but he was always too proud to actually acknowledge any of you.

you did, however, have a little crush on him. okay—a lot of a crush. at school, you always used to greet him loudly with “hey, rin!”, sit next to him whenever you could, conveniently “forget” your pen just so you could borrow his even though you had at least three in your bag, and ask him if he needed help with homework. you’d fake confusion on assignments just to make him explain them to you, cheer way too loudly when he got picked for sports activities—even if you weren’t on his team—and accidentally run into him in the hallways like, whoops, sorry! (it was never an accident).

honestly, looking back, you have no idea how he didn’t just move schools.

but that crush you used to have on him? yeah, that was long gone—at least, that’s what you told yourself. after all, he had chosen to follow his dream and leave this town behind, and you didn’t blame him one bit. if you had the chance, you probably would’ve done the same.

but now, sitting face-to-face with him, divided only by a dinner table, you started to realize maybe that crush wasn’t as gone as you thought.

this whole dinner was your neighbor’s idea. ever since her husband passed, she had been hosting these little gatherings every couple of months, saying it made her feel less alone. your family, along with two others who lived nearby—one of them being the itoshis—would all come together to keep her company. usually, these dinners bored you out of your mind, forcing you to sit through hours of polite small talk about things like gardening, overpriced home repairs, or who was getting promoted at the bank.

but today was different.

rin was here. in front of you. somehow, that one fact alone had completely changed the trajectory of this dinner.

should you get up and make a toast because rin is back? no, that would be ridiculous. you could already picture it: “to rin, the brother of the football prodigy, the underdog, the man who’s clearly still trying to outdo his older brother—let’s hope he finally does it.” you could already feel the awkward silence that would follow and the way he’d probably shoot daggers toward you. no, you weren’t that person anymore. and honestly, it would probably kill any chance of ever getting together with him, not that you were daydreaming about being with him or anything.

you were so lost in your daydream that you didn’t even hear your name being called. it was your sweet neighbor, who had been talking to you the whole evening with that warm smile of hers.

“honey, can you please go upstairs? in the closet next to the bathroom, there are some gifts i prepared for everyone. i just want to show my appreciation for always being here for me, and it’s something i worked really hard on doing.”

“sure, of course,” you said without hesitation, already moving toward the stairs. but as you started to climb, you overheard the conversation at the table.

“rin, be a sweetheart and help her, i’m afraid she might lose track of time in there,” your neighbor said.

you almost tripped on the stairs. rin? you glanced back over your shoulder, not sure whether to be annoyed or grateful. but there he was, with that usual uninterested look on his face, standing up from his chair with the slightest hint of reluctance.

he didn’t even glance your way as he walked past you, but you could feel the faintest hint of warmth creeping up your neck. maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all. you weren’t sure whether to feel irritated by his presence or oddly comforted, but you were about to find out.

when you got to the top of the stairs, he was already inside the tiny room, looking around for that pair of gifts. you gasped when you saw the inside of it—it was full of dolls, cool antiquities, and books. it literally felt like you’d walked into an antique store.

“oh my god, look at this doll, it looks just like you!” you said, bolting into the room and past rin, causing the door to close behind you by mistake.

“do you think if i pinch its cheeks, you’ll feel it?” you teased, holding up the doll and inspecting it, completely oblivious to rin’s reaction.

while you were looking around the room and trying not to touch everything that sparked your interest, rin had already found the gifts and was preparing to open the door to leave you in here alone. except the door wouldn’t budge when he tried to open it.

“what did you do?” you heard him ask, his voice edged with irritation.

“what are you talking about? i didn’t do anything.”

“you locked us in here.”

“no, i didn’t.”

you definitely didn’t, but maybe this was the universe giving you a chance to finally confess your feelings? or maybe this was your neighbor’s plan, or maybe your body subconsciously did it. or maybe—while you were thinking of all the possibilities—rin was trying to fix the door, trying the lock, pushing it. you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh. it would be so funny to hear him scream for help to the guests downstairs.

“can you actually do something instead of making that weird face and holding that doll? you look creepy,” he muttered, frustration evident in his voice.

“it’s not just a doll,” you said, holding it up with an exaggerated amount of pride, “it’s you. look, it has your hair, your eyes, and it even has that little wrinkle between its eyebrows from frowning.”

you grinned widely, clearly enjoying the situation, but rin’s face was still set in a frown, his impatience growing by the second.

“can you try and smile a little? how did little me even have a crush on such a grumpy person?” you said, absentmindedly stroking the doll’s bangs. it wasn’t until you were met with silence—no snarky remark, no scoff, nothing—that you realized your mistake.

“oh my god, i didn’t mean it like that! like, it’s not like i could ever see myself dating you or anything because you’re so uptight—wait, no, that sounded worse—i mean, there’s nothing wrong with having a little crush! not that i still have one! maybe just a tiny bit, but that’s normal, right? i mean, you see—”

“of course it’s you, confessing to someone at a time like this,” rin deadpanned, looking thoroughly unimpressed—but you swore the tips of his ears were red.

and was this really a bad time? sure, the dolls in the room were a little creepy, the light kept flickering like a horror movie cliché, and, okay, you were technically stuck. but if rin would just get down on one knee and declare his undying love for you, this could actually be kind of romantic—

before you could finish that thought, you heard a soft click, and the door swung open to reveal your mom standing there, her eyes flicking between the two of you with mild suspicion.

“oh, there you are,” she said, raising an eyebrow before turning to rin. “come on, i’ll help you with the gifts.”

without another word, she stepped inside and started gathering the neatly wrapped packages, completely unaware of whatever just happened in that tiny room. rin, on the other hand, shot you a glance—one that very clearly said this conversation is not over.

you need to disappear. yep, that’s it. this is easily top five most embarrassing moments of your life. you need to buy a ticket to another country, get plastic surgery, change your hairstyle, and become an oil rig worker. maybe even change your name—something dramatic.

you’re still cycling through options when you finally make it back downstairs, sliding into your seat at the table without a word. you don’t even realize rin isn’t sitting in front of you anymore—not until he speaks.

“i’m picking up a cake for my mom tomorrow at the local bakery.” his voice is casual, like he’s commenting on the weather. then, just as effortlessly, he adds, “you can come if you want.”

you turn your head so fast it’s a miracle you don’t get whiplash, staring at him speechlessly. he, on the other hand, doesn’t even look at you, eyes fixed straight ahead like this is the most normal thing in the world.

at what, you don’t know. you don’t care. all you know is that your brain is short-circuiting, and you might need to add “fake your own death” to your escape plan.

“oh yeah, sure, totally dude.” why did you say dude? that was so weird. he’s definitely going to leave this table and never talk to you again. say goodbye to the little bakery date. i mean, at least you hope it’s a date, right?

but then, you catch a glimpse of him. his lips twitch, forming the tiniest smile—one that’s gone just as quickly as it appeared. for a second, you’re frozen, unsure of what to make of it.

you sit there for a moment, your mind racing. was that smile real? was he actually okay with this? the uncertainty swirls in your chest, but strangely enough, it doesn’t feel as overwhelming anymore. maybe, just maybe, this is the start of something new.