#but under the same pressure she was under I must admit

[an-absolute-trainwreck]

I watched hellraiser for the first time and it was funsies, good gore, I liked it. But how the hell did kirsty know what was happening. Like at all.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 3

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

A/N: Steve Rogers is older than Bucky here.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

You arrived at the new apartment, feeling a small sense of relief for finally being under a different roof than Caroline’s. The thought of enduring the same torture as before made your skin crawl.

As you settled in, you broke the silence. ��Your mom offered the attorney to us.” You remembered how you had insisted the divorce attorney make it as quick and painless as possible. “Why didn’t you finalize it?”

Bucky’s gaze remained steady. “Not once did I think you were actually going to leave me.”

“There’s no marriage between us,” you shot back, your voice sharp. “If you’d finalized it, you could’ve easily married a woman your mother approved of.”

Flashback Start

You recalled every time Caroline mentioned another woman’s name as if they were more suited for Bucky. “You know, Rachel just graduated summa cum laude from Harvard in social politics,” she had said at the rehearsal dinner.

Then, on your wedding day, as you and Bucky sat together, trying to enjoy the celebration, Caroline approached, holding hands with a stunning woman. “Bucky, look who’s here? Katherine just arrived from London.”

Caroline’s voice dripped with approval. “Both of them went to the same law school.”

You clenched the fork in your hand so hard you thought it might snap.

Why the hell was she introducing another woman to you on your wedding night?

Did she expect you and Bucky to have a threesome with Katherine?

From that moment, you knew your place—an outsider who didn’t come from the pedigree Caroline so desperately wanted for her son.

When you finally left the house, you remembered her raising her champagne glass with a smirk. “I always knew you weren’t the one.”

Flashback End

“They need someone with a spotless record,” Bucky said, breaking you from your thoughts.

You stood there, your emotions a mix of anger and disbelief.

“I’m not making excuses for you. I know the old me wasn’t good enough, that I couldn’t be the man you could rely on,” he admitted, his voice thick with regret.

He looked at you with a desperation that caught you off guard. “You could poison my drink, stab me in my sleep. I wouldn’t fight it. I’d let you.”

His eyes, usually so confident and composed, were now filled with a deep, pained sincerity. The weight of his guilt seemed to crush him, and the shadows of remorse darkened his features. His hands trembled slightly, betraying the calm facade he tried to maintain.

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest. How could he say that so casually? What kind of twisted love was this?

“That’s how much I need you,” he confessed, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You’re using me,” you accused, your voice shaking with a mix of fury and sadness.

Bucky didn’t deny it. “Like I said, it’s a business relationship. But I’ve trusted you from the beginning. Put my faith in you.”

He reached out, taking your hands in his, holding them together like a prayer. “And I hope we can work together. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance to work in the White House.””

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The following day, you met Steve, the future Presidential candidate. He greeted you warmly, his genuine smile easing some of the tension you felt. You’d met Steve and his wife, Peggy, a few times before—honest people who never treated you like you didn’t belong. Steve had even defended you whenever Caroline or others looked down on you for not being in the same league as them.

"I’m so glad you’re here," Steve said, clasping your hand. "When did you arrive?"

You chuckled softly. "Well, when three Secret Service agents showed up at my door, who was I to say no?"

Steve chuckled too, though there was a hint of awkwardness in his eyes. He tilted his head slightly. "Let’s talk."

You walked together, the air thick with unspoken words. "I know it’s difficult for you to be here. I owe you big time," Steve began sincerely. He had witnessed your marriage crumble, and despite his and Peggy’s best efforts to support you and Bucky, things had fallen apart.

You sighed. "What confuses me is, why me? He could’ve chosen another woman, someone way more qualified."

Steve leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "To be honest, I think you’re the best option. He probably won’t show it, but Bucky was happy when he heard you were coming."

You scoffed, glancing over at Bucky, who was watching the two of you from a distance. "Impossible."

As you scanned the room, you spotted someone familiar—your brother, Tim. Excusing yourself from Steve, you made your way over to him.

"I’m glad you’re here," Tim said, his voice filled with warmth, though his eyes carried a weight of their own.

You narrowed your eyes at him. "I can’t believe you. You knew what I went through, and yet you’re working with him? You sucked up to him."

"Look at me," Tim said firmly.

You glanced down at him, seeing the determination in his gaze.

"Who’s going to hire a disabled person like me?" Tim who seated on his wheelchair, his voice wavered slightly as he spoke. He had been born with both legs, but when bone cancer struck his left leg, the doctors recommended amputation to stop it from spreading. That surgery had shattered his dreams of becoming a professional tennis player.

"It was James who offered me a job," he emphasized, "with a high salary."

Tim continued, "You can keep your anger, but face it, Y/N—they won’t pay the bills. For people like me, I need more money to survive in this world."

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Bucky appeared beside you.

"Hi, Tim."

"Hey," Tim replied.

"I'm going to steal your sister for a bit." Bucky turned to you. "Our next schedule is couple’s therapy," he said, his voice calm but authoritative, cutting the conversation short.

You hated this part. The thought of attending therapy with Bucky made your stomach twist with unease. You shot Tim one last look, a mixture of concern and frustration in your eyes, before following Bucky out of the room.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

As you and Bucky sat across from Aiden, the therapist, the atmosphere was thick with unresolved tension. The room was simple yet comfortable, with soft, neutral tones that were supposed to be calming but did little to ease the storm of emotions swirling within you. You could feel the weight of Bucky's presence beside you, a familiar heaviness that both comforted and suffocated you.

Aiden leaned forward, his expression neutral but attentive. "So, what are you feeling right now?"

You hesitated for a moment before speaking, your voice laced with frustration and exhaustion. "I don’t think I have the courage to live another day in his family. His mother is the devil spawn. Even seeing her shadow triggers me." The words spilled out of you, raw and unfiltered, a reflection of the years of pain and resentment you'd kept bottled up.

Aiden nodded, his gaze shifting to Bucky. "And what about you, Mr. Barnes?"

Bucky's eyes remained fixed on a spot on the floor, his voice steady but lacking its usual conviction. "I didn’t think that way. As long as we stick together, we can get through everything." There was a hint of desperation in his tone, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as you.

You turned to look at him, disbelief and anger simmering beneath your calm facade. "From the beginning, we should’ve never gotten married. You only focus on yourself, never bothering to look behind you. Me, trying my best to fit into your circles."

Your voice wavered, the painful truth of your words cutting through the silence like a knife. You had always known you were out of his league—young and innocent, believing that love could conquer all.

But you had been wrong, and the reality of that mistake was too much to bear.

His mother’s voice echoed in your mind, the countless times she’d told you that you weren’t good enough, that you didn’t deserve him.

"Your mother was right. I don’t deserve you," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s expression tightened, his guilt etched into every line of his face. "I’m sorry. I really am sorry." His voice cracked, the weight of his regret finally breaking through.

He had never wanted this—to see you hurt, to see you broken because of him and his family. But the damage was done, and the guilt gnawed at him, relentless and unforgiving.

Aiden observed the exchange, his eyes narrowing slightly as he spoke. "I see that you’re the victim here, ma’am. And your former mother-in-law is the main reason why." He glanced at Bucky, his voice firm. "Mr. Barnes, your mother hurt her deeply, and now you must do everything in your power to make amends."

Bucky nodded, his voice thick with emotion. "I will. I'll do anything to erase the hurt you’ve received from her." The sincerity in his voice was palpable, but it was clear that the guilt weighed heavily on him. He had failed to protect you, to shield you from his mother’s venom, and that failure haunted him.

Aiden’s voice softened, but there was a steely resolve in his words. "Use this pain, both of you. Let it fuel you to confront Caroline, to reclaim your strength. Don’t let her win. Turn this pain into power."

As you sat there, the enormity of the situation began to sink in. You had been through so much, and the path ahead was uncertain. You had expected to loathe the couple’s therapy, but surprisingly, it turned out to be a beneficial experience.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

After the couple's therapy, the silence between you and Bucky was palpable, each of you grappling with the raw emotions that had surfaced.

The therapy had stripped away your filters, leaving you both exposed—your anger and frustration flowing freely. Bucky remained stoic, absorbing your harsh words with an almost resigned patience.

Returning to the Barnes household, the atmosphere was thick with tension. The room was filled with Bucky’s family: his parents, Julius and Caroline; his brother, Shawn, who struggled with cocaine and felt diminished by his inability to meet Caroline’s lofty expectations; and Hazel, Bucky’s sister and Nate’s mother.

Hazel, having felt overshadowed as the spare child, had chosen a career in fashion to escape the constant comparison to Bucky, who was seen as the golden child.

You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Shawn and Hazel, both of whom shared your misery under Caroline’s disdain. But that sympathy was tempered by their enjoyment of watching you suffer, thanks to their mother’s contempt.

Greg, a family friend, was the bearer of the news that the whole family would attend the upcoming convention event.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you said firmly, your tone clipped.

“Why… why?” Greg asked, confused.

Caroline rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Here we go.”

Bucky tried to interject, “Don’t…”

You cut him off with a steely gaze. “After that consultation, you still want to continue this?”

Caroline's eyes narrowed. “I knew we couldn’t trust her.”

Shawn chuckled, and Hazel remained indifferent.

“Quiet,” Julius commanded, his voice brooking no argument. The room fell silent.

With a sense of finality, you approached Caroline. “You’re so jealous of me,” you said, your voice dripping with disdain.

Caroline’s eyes widened, a mixture of anger and shock. “What are you talking about?”

“Because you know I’m going to get what you can’t have,” you smirked, savoring the moment. “Being the wife of the Vice President.”

“You bitch,” Caroline spat, something snapped inside her. Deep down, you were right—she was jealous of you. You were younger, smarter, and luckier. It was her dream to be in your position, but now it seemed like she had paved the way for you instead. What’s worse, you didn’t fit her criteria at all. She felt you didn’t deserve this.

Without warning, Caroline lunged at you, grabbing your hair. The two of you were soon locked in a fierce struggle, yanking each other’s hair and grappling with a fury that left no room for remorse. The physical confrontation was liberating, an outlet for all the anger you had been holding back.

You felt no fear and no guilt towards the seventy-year-old woman. At last, you could release all the anger you had been holding in.

Waiting for karma takes too long, and you can’t expect God to do all the work. So you took this chance to give her a lesson she won’t forget.

“Stop! STOP!” Bucky and Julius’s voices cut through the chaos as they tried to separate you. Shawn and Hazel, their faces a mix of curiosity and apathy, slowly backed away from the scene.

It was a struggle to pry you apart; Caroline, in her rage, was more unruly and disheveled compared to your own controlled fury.

“Hufft,” you adjusted your disheveled dress and hair, glaring at Caroline with a fierce, triumphant look. “You know what? I hope your son wins, so I can rub my new position right in your face.”

Caroline’s expression was one of shock and fury, her face a portrait of someone who had been dealt a blow she wasn’t prepared for. Her eyes were wild with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

“You’re absolutely right,” you looked at Bucky, your voice steady. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance to live in the White House.”

Caroline’s gritted her teeth.

“If the world wants to see us as a happily married couple,” you said with a cold smile, “I’ll give them the most blissful marriage they’ve ever seen. It’ll be the kind of marriage everyone talks about when they mention a perfect union.”

Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise at your cold declaration. For a moment, he was stunned, but as he processed your words, admiration and pride flickered across his face. He straightened, a hint of a smile forming, clearly impressed by your bold resolve and newfound strength.

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[sandwitchstories]

Precious Two

Here is the first of the promised new creations in my series of drabbles, headcannons and one shots about Dad!Sukuna!

For more adventures with Mouse and Dad!Sukuna, check out my Daddy Duty Series on my AO3 - Here! )

Summary: While settling into this wholly unplanned role as a father, you knew Sukuna would have some speed bumps. You just never thought that nicknames would be one of them.

WC: 785

CW: female reader, mother reader, breastfeeding, new born baby, true form Sukuna (4 arms, 2- oh wait this isn't that type of story...) some slightly suggestive humor (other than that horribly lame joke I should probably apologize for), it's just plain Dilf Sukuna fluff and crack

“I shall call her precious two,” Sukuna said from where he laid on the bed beside you, holding your 2 day old daughter while she slept. 

“That is a terrible nickname,” you screwed up your face at him.

“How so? Do I not call you precious one?’

“You do, and I love it,” you smiled, leaning over to press a kiss to the side of his face.

It never failed to do something to his insides that you kissed the malformed side of his face as if it were the same as the other. Though he would rather have his toenails plucked off one at a time than admit that out loud. 

He turned his head and cupped the back of your skull with one of his free hands. “You are my precious one. Always.”

At that moment your daughter decided to give her lungs a stretch, alerting that she was hungry. She was her father’s child. Girl got the hangry from her Papa. A demand feeder and a bottomless pit. Come to think of it, both of them did also share the trait of calming down once a boob was in their mouth…

“Alright, precious t… child, we are all aware you are hungry, you can stop the noise now… now… as in this instant stop it…”

You chuckled as you fixed your pillows and opened your robe in preparation as you stretched out your hands for her. “Come here, little one. Mama's ready for you.”

Sukuna handed her over, watching you and her with so much love in his eyes. There was something about the sight of you breast feeding his child that filled him with something akin to a warmth. He scooted closer, wrapping an arm around you back, resting another one on top of your head, and another giant hand moving across you to run his fingers through the thick pink hair sprouting from his daughter's impossibly small head.

“Drink up, little princess of curses and deadly poisons. A world of curses will be under your command, you must be strong to keep them in line,” he said, love in all 4 his eyes as he watched her suckle at your breast. He sat back and smirked at you. “Is that better, precious one?”

“Let's shorten it to just Little Princess, hmm? We don't want to put too much pressure on her this young,” you turned your head and kissed his chest before snuggling into him.

“She should get used to her title now. She is the first born child of the King of Curses.”

“First born?”

“Yes,” he said, like it was a dumb question. He looked down at her and one corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile. “Precious two came out pretty damn cute. Things only get better with practice. So by the time we get to Precious Fo-”

He grunted, entirely for show, when you lightly thumped your fist against his chest. “What the hell was that about?”

“1. I told you precious two was a no go, so there is no chance I will endorse precious three or precious four. Get that through your thick skull now. And 2. PRECIOUS FOUR? Are you going to carry any of these babies?”

“I have 4 hands don’t I,” he gave you a droll stare.

You turned your face into his chest and groaned. “That’s not what I meant…”

He grinned from ear to ear. He knew damn well what you meant, it was just too much fun to fuck with you. He kissed the top of your head before resting his head back against his head board, resting on his arm folded behind his neck, he pretended to be lost in thought, musing softly aloud.  “Little poison princess? Poison princess? Princess curse? Little curse?”

“Sukuna. Didn’t we just agree on it being just little princess?”

“No, we did not agree. You just merely stated your opinion,” Sukuna replied, struggling to keep the smile out of his voice.

“Sukuna… do you want precious three and precious four to even be a consideration?” you tried to sound threatening.

“Oh so it’s okay when you call them that?”

“Sorry, little princess, looks like you’re gonna be an only child,” you smiled at the way her little hand fisted around your finger. 

You watched her eating, glancing up to see Sukuna looking at you and you knew the truth. You would give that man as many babies as you were able to. Not only because he was gorgeous and you thoroughly enjoyed the act of making babies with him, but also because you knew the truth - that ‘monster’ you married was going to be the best father in the world.

[respectthepetty]

I am a MosBank Truther!

I do not hate all fan service. I think it's good to see men casually touch each other in public AND get paid to do it. My favorite pairs for fan service are MaxTul, who WILL return to me one day; YinWar, who understand the "Business Gay Performance" concept; JoongDunk, who are my GMMTV fighters; and MosBank. But unlike all of these other 200 branded pairs running around in BL Land, I actually think MosBank are a real couple, and I truly believe that they are already married. *looking you directly in your eyes* I'm serious. And I have thirty images from their recent appearance on the Har Tum Show to prove it.

But first, if you are not familiar with this show, Eclair is the host and she invites guests over to cook while she shit talks, and babygirl is quick. Jes and Bible from 4 Minutes were recently on, and while Jes matched Eclair's energy as this was his second appearance on the show, Bible was lost in the sauce, which only made their appearance even more delightful. And the reason is because homegirl casually drops sex jokes and snappy quips into the conversation, so guests must be on their toes to keep up.

AND MOSBANK CAME PREPARED!

Bank and Mos already know Eclair. Bank knows her from college, and Mos knows her from mutual friends *cough* Bank *cough* so they got down to business quick, and by business, I mean dick jokes. They are making deep-fried shrimp sushi, so Bank immediately holds the cucumber to size it up, and Eclair jumps into Bank's blowjob skills after briefly discussing how many shrimp are in the meal. +2 for talking about oral sex five minutes in.

This prompts Bank to sing "Part of Your World" from The Little Mermaid (in English) because it ties into the discussion of the ingredients needed for the meal (shrimp, seaweed, salmon) and blowjobs. No points given because even though Bank can sing, Ariel doesn't deserve to take strays about blowjobs.

Mos discloses that Bank's family owns a durian farm, so the queer movie of the moment The Paradise of Thorns gets mentioned, but Bank throws in his critique that they are more like The Paradise of Scorns. +2 for Bank's wittiness and Mos' sensible chuckle

Then Bank reveals that he is the one who scouted Mos for Star Hunter because he was thirsting over Mos' pictures on social media. +4 because Bank . . . same. I, too, would slide into Mos' DMs after perusing his socials.

As the conversation continues, both men confess that they hated school, but Bank is the smarter one on paper ONLY because he knew he wanted to be an actor and didn't want to appear dumb, so he got tutoring to get rid of his country accent and up his grades, while Mos only got his grades up because his mom sent him to an all-boys school in Bangkok 💀 Eclair is surprised because she thinks Bank plays up the "dumb-blonde" persona, and they joke that's a good thing because he can get away with it. +6 for Mos and his all-boy school

And then we get into the domesticity! Mos and Bank have randomly mentioned they live together throughout the years, so Eclair starts asking questions about their home life. Mos likes to do the chores. Bank likes to shop.

Eclair thinks Bank would feel guilty for not helping Mos with the chores, but both men correct her that Mos likes doing these things, and if Mos was her boyfriend, he'd gladly do it for her too. +10 because Bank does not cook nor does he clean, but he got that ring!

Because Mos seems too perfect to be true, Bank throws him under the bus and admits it bothers him that Mos doesn't say he loves people or misses them NOT EVEN HIS PARENTS OR FAMILY! -2 only because Bank brings this up every year in their Valentine's Day videos, and Mos still is tight-lipped.

But he quickly recovers because he says Mos isn't a man of too many words and actually shows his love through actions, like buying him a Celine bag and other stuff that he cannot mention even though Eclair pressures him to share. No points given

Eclair asks if either one of them gets upset easily, but specifically targets Bank since he is known for having an attitude in their travel videos when he is hungry or tired. +2 to Eclair for being shady

Once they sit down to enjoy the meal that Mos has basically single-handedly made for them, the conversation gets sad when Bank mentions he just wants a good life for his parents and how he misses his grandma, who was his biggest supporter but died during the pandemic so he didn't get to see her before she passed.

It's a heavy moment, but Eclair spins it and asks Mos if he has any sad tales to tell, to which Bank immediately answers that Mos' family is nothing but happy vibes and good times. +1 for the look exchanged between Bank and Eclair because people who have happy families make us all a little sick.

Eclair latches on to the fact that Bank answered the question about Mos' family, and Mos casually responds that Bank would know because he has met his family, several times, since he goes home with Mos, each time. +4 because this is the domesticity that has me convinced they are already married since they are holding hands under the table.

From the way Mos is talking, it's clear the boys stay AT his parents' house when they visit, so Eclair asks if Mos' mom ever hears them.

Mos, in a serious voice, instantly replies that they are quiet.

Bank bursts into laughter, but Eclair isn't done and wants to know what quiet things are done quietly, so Mos offers the only acceptable answer - "Whatever Bank wants" +100 points for Mos being perfect

The conversation gets back to the original point of Bank visiting Mos' family and the guys talk about the first time Bank went home with Mos. The aunties were aflutter when they saw Bank with Mos and because Mos comes from a small community, the entire village practically knew before they even got to the house.

They even recreate the aunties on the street breaking their necks to get a glimpse of Mos' rich boy. +3 for the way the boys deliver it

When they were walking the streets or at the market, they knew people were talking about them (out of curiosity), but whenever Mos or Bank would acknowledge them, the aunties would scatter. +1 for knowing that small town talk is not a negative thing but a way of sharing news

Everywhere they went, people would already know who Bank was because the chisme was running rampant! +2 because the boys are telling the hell out of this story and they are telling it TOGETHER, like both are telling it at the same time. It's glorious!

And since we understand that they were staying AT the parents' house, it seems as if they were also staying in the same room since Grandpa came to collect them once aunties started standing outside of the house wanting to take pictures with them. +2 since Mos is thrilled that Bank was so popular with his people

After the story, Eclair puts on her business cap and opens the door for the guys to talk about their various projects and socials, but the lady is a professional who can turn anything into a sex joke.

MosBank have a YouTube channel called Mong Biew which is a play on their names, but Eclair asks if it's a play on "Bong Biew" which apparently means tilted, and at first I thought she was making a straight/gay joke, but nope! It's a dick joke because Mos proudly declares that it's straight!

And I'm giving Mos another +100 points because this kid gets it! I thought Bank was going to easily steal the show, while Mos was busy cooking, but Mos is just as quick and snappy with his comebacks. He isn't just a Instagram thirst trap! The boy's got moxie!

Because this is still business, the guys give their product placement spiel for an anti-bloat mix, Air-X, and Eclair quickly turns capitalism on its head when she gets Bank to admit he farted on set during one of his romantic scenes with Mos. +4 points to Eclair for making a product placement hilarious and getting the chisme!

And the show wraps up with Eclair giving Air-X another spotlight as she states it's the second item Bank would pack for a trip AFTER HE PACKS CONDOMS!

2000 POINTS TO MY FAVORITE MARRIED COUPLE because we all win when the aunties approve of the boyfriend and Eclair can get a good dick joke or ten out of it!

[websterss]

CHICKEN AND PASTA — CONRAD HAWKINS

REQUEST: Im a new follower and I must say the Imagines are just so....👌🏼🥹Anyway saw you were writing for Conrad Hawkins. Could you do one where Yn takes care of a patient who has a crush on Conrad. She gets defensive and tells Yn to back off Conrad and Yn shrugs it off. Later the patient was watching Yn and Conrad hug and kiss and she snaps. She waits til yn is alone and she stabs or attacks yn and leaves her to die. As Conrad gets ready to go home he starts to look for Yn but finds her wounded. I'll let you pick the ending. Im such a sucker for angst. 😭 Hope this makes sense 💙☺️ @megafandomsxassemble

WARNING(S): angst, mentions of blood, stab wounds, and knife, mentions of baby loss, crazy grace

WORD COUNT: 5,485

PAIRING: Conrad Hawkins x fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you enjoy it love! Feedback is always welcomed! <33

MASTERLIST

You had looked up when a foam cup was plopped right in front of you. You set your clipboard down as you follow the arm of the culprit. Conrad has his head tilted, a sweet smile gracing your very long morning. “Beautiful.” He compliments your very clearly disheveled state.

You roll your eyes but take the coffee he brought for you. You mouth a thank you before giving him your full attention. “What’s the catch?” You smirk.

Conrad chuckles at your remark. His brown orbs scan your tired features. “There you go again, assuming I have some ulterior motive.” He says, feigning offense. He leans a hip against your desk as he watches you take a drink of the coffee he so graciously retrieved for you. “Can’t I bring my fiance a cup of coffee out of the pure goodness of my heart?”

“You can…but something lies behind those devious eyes.” You squint up at him, swirling the end of your pen in front of his face.

Conrad laughs, his grin wide. He tilts his head, his light curls bouncing lightly. He brings his index finger up, gently pressing your forehead so you’re no longer squinting. “There. Much better.” He teases. He shakes his head, the playful smirk never leaving his features. He crosses his arms, leaning in to get a closer look at your tired state. “Rough night?”

“More like rough morning. Your number one fan is here…again.” A teasing smile begins to form on your face.

Conrad raises an eyebrow at that. He knew exactly who you were talking about. “What is she being admitted for this time?” He says, unable to contain the amused smirk.

You sigh and gesture to the paperwork sitting in front of him. He meets your eye and then turns the clipboard around and begins to read.

Conrad can’t fight the scoff that escapes his lips as he reads through it. The same symptoms as last time: elevated heart rate, high blood pressure, and dizziness, among many other minor symptoms. Every time it was the same. Other than the fractured radius and ulnar, today. Nothing was ever, truly, wrong.

“Broke her arm chasing after her dog…” Conrad shakes his head as he gently sets the clipboard back on your desk. “Nic around?”

“Just missed her. She just finished her double shift.” You shook your head.

Conrad’s eyes widened in surprise, though he didn’t know why. Nic’s determination to overwork herself was no secret. He huffed a heavy sigh, taking a seat on the edge of the desk. “Of course she did…” He mutters under his breath. “You’re with me today.”

“Can already feel my day turning around, but I figured so I checked her vitals and heart already. So you just need to repeat everything I just did, doc.” You chipped with a smile on your face. You gather your things and make your way to Grace’s room. Conrad's number one fan, or rather his stalker as you like to secretly call her.

Conrad rolls his eyes at your comment and follows behind you, his long strides easily keeping pace with yours. “Careful,” He warns, unable to contain his smile, “flattery will get you everywhere.”

The pair of you enter Grace’s room where she is, unsurprisingly, perched on the edge of her bed. Her broken arm is clutched to her chest, a pout on her face. Upon seeing the two of you, her face lights up.

“Dr. Hawkins!” She squeals, waving and making grabby hands in his direction. Conrad sighs, a forced, painfully fake smile on his face as he approaches her to examine her. He casts a sideways look in your direction as if to say ‘Save me’.

“Hi nurse, Y/n.” She makes sure to greet you with a warm welcome.

“Hi Grace, how’s the morphine doing, kicking in a bit I see.” You contain your laughter as you see her more giggly than how she was when she first arrived.

Conrad looks over at you. He has to hide his chuckle as you tease her for her morphine-induced goofy behavior. “So,” He starts. “The dog was too much for you I see?”

“Yes. I don’t think I’m much of a dog person. Any other pets you could recommend for me, Dr. Hawkins?”

Conrad looks over at you.

“You could always try a Guinea Pig. My niece has one. Easy little things to take care of.” You shrug. Grace locks eyes with you, considering your suggestion. She nods then looks back to him.

“Is a Guinea Pig easy to take care of, Dr. Hawkins?”

Conrad hums, pretending to think. He scratches at his chin, pretending as if there is some deep thought going through his head. “A Guinea Pig is very easy to take care of Grace.” He says, a playful smirk growing on his face. “Very easy.”

He turns an expectant look in your direction, his lips twitching to suppress a grin.

“Yes, very easy. A Guinea pig is less likely to cause fractures. No running, no need to train them. Easy as pie.” You breathe out a laugh.

Conrad has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing. He can’t fight the way his eyes gleam at how thoroughly you are enjoying yourself teasing his…fan. “No risk of broken bones chasing them around. Sounds like a good fit for you.”

"I'll have to stop by a pet store later then." She nods. Unlike Conrad, you had a feeling she would stay true to her promise to get the damn rodent. The idea unsettled you just as it did the last time when she bought a dog after he recommended getting one, to keep her company as he lightly put it.

Conrad’s stomach drops at the thought of Grace following through on her promise. He knew she was gullible, but if what you were saying was true and she took his recommendation to heart and bought a dog…he would have to be more careful with what came out of his mouth.

“Maybe…stay away from animals for now?” He suggests, casting a concerned glance your way. "Alright, Grace I'm gonna go ahead and order you an x-ray and an MRI just to be on the safe side. You said you've been experiencing a bit of a headache, you said you hit your head when you fell?"

"Yeah...on concrete, is that bad?" She moves her eyes back and forth from you two. Conrad cast you a glance.

Conrad winces at her casual response. “Well, you’d probably be experiencing something a bit stronger than a minor headache if there was anything truly wrong.” He says as a means to comfort her as she sits at the edge of her bed.

He reaches out, gently prodding at the back of her head. He pulled out a light and had her follow his finger. “How hard did you hit your head?”

"My vision was blurred for a few minutes. I think someone asked if I was okay before I got up, took Ceecee home, and then came straight here." She blinks up at him. "You'll fix me right up though, right, Dr, Hawkins?"

He gives her a nod and a reassuring smile. “You’re in the best of hands.” He reassures her, ignoring the skeptical scoff you let out beside him. “I’ll make sure we get to the bottom of that headache.”

"In the meantime, just wait here, I will be back to reset your bones." You pat her shoulder.

She looks at your hand and then nods. Conrad casts her a wink before exiting with you, not thinking anything more by it.

Conrad takes your elbow, a light tug letting you know that he wants to leave the room. He gives Grace one last comforting smile, "We'll be right back." He said, opening the door and ushering you out.

Once out of the room, Conrad's smile falls from his face and is replaced with a concerned frown. He lowers his voice slightly, so only you can hear him. "She actually bought a dog?"

"Well Dr. Hawkins…when you flash her that dazzling smile and hold her gently, how can she resist doing everything that comes out your damn mouth!" Your smile vanishes as you smack him. "She's getting worse. Okay, this is turning into outright obsessive behavior, and if you don't put a stop to her Conrad, she'll display stalker-like traits."

Conrad flinches at the smack to his chest, a glare tossed right back in your direction. "Not funny." He points at you and the way you emphasized his name like she had.

“What do you suggest I do, hm?” Conrad asks, a hint of irritation in his tone. “Walk up to a patient and tell them to stop getting hurt, to call for another doctor?"

"Well that idea sounds a whole lot better than the Guinea Pig-" You jump away with a laugh when he scoffs and tries to tickle you.

Conrad lunges at you, grabbing a flailing arm and tugging you back in his direction. He takes advantage of your distraction, going straight for your sides, his fingers digging into your ribs. His own smirk grows wider as he hears your laughter fill the hallway.

"Stop, stop, stop!" Your head falls. "I can't breathe."

Conrad stops and grins, but he doesn’t release you. He keeps his arms loosely wrapped around your waist and watches as you struggle to catch your breath. He laughs softly as he watches you lean forward, your head resting against his chest.

“You’re impossible.” He says, his fingers idly rubbing against your side.

"That's improbable to you." You lift your head with a teasing smile.

Conrad groans, rolling his eyes at your quip. He can’t keep the smile off his face, though. His fingers still rubbing against your sides. "Pain in my ass…" He said, but the words lacked any real bite behind them. He leans in as you hum in amusement.

"That so, Dr Hawkins."

Conrad huffs, his chest rising and falling with his laughter. His eyes darken as he looks down at you, his smirk turning more wicked. He leans in further, his face only inches from your own. "Say it again." He says, his voice now a few octaves deeper than normal.

"Dr Hawkins." Your laugh is stifled when he presses his lips to yours in a sweet long kiss.

Conrad hums against your lips, an arm snaking around your waist to drag you closer. He leans back against the wall that the two of you were standing in front of, a hand coming up to cup the back of your neck. He deepens the kiss, a sharp pang of desire striking at his core as he pushes you gently back against the wall.

But before it could escalate any further, your pager goes off. You groan and push him away slightly. "Duty calls." You whine.

Conrad groans at the noise and he steps back, reluctantly tearing his gaze and his arms away from you. He pushes his messy hair back off his forehead, still slightly breathless. He lets his eyes wander over your disheveled form, knowing full well that the two of you would've gotten caught up in that hallway had the pager not interrupted.

He brings a hand up to his own pager in his pocket that went off, shutting it off. "Duty indeed calls." He sighed, his heart still racing. "What would you like for dinner?"

You gasp. "Are you offering to cook?" You hum at the idea.

Conrad laughs and shakes his head at your excitement and enthusiasm for the idea of his cooking. "Don't look so surprised." He remarks, his expression changing to a playful smirk. "Yes, I'll cook tonight. What do you want?"

"Surprise me." You shrug, walking backwards.

Conrad rolls his eyes, though he's smiling as he watches you walk away. He can't help but admire the view, his gaze lingering on your form for just a little too long. "You got mad last time when I did." He calls after you.

"Chicken, with Pasta!" You call out as you reach the corner you need to turn.

Conrad huffs a laugh at the request. "Done!" He calls out to you as he heads in the opposite direction. "Chicken and pasta it is..." He sighs, then laughs to himself.

What you both hadn't realized was the shadow lurking and watching from afar. A scowl replaced her sweet smile moments before when she heard his voice outside her room. Her breathing picks up as she heads back into her room. Grace sits at the edge of her bed and looks down at the fractured bones, broken at a dipped angle. Before she could even think twice about it, she settled them back into place.

The pain was nothing like how betrayed her heart had felt. Conrad had his interest in someone else. You.

-

A few minutes had passed before you had gone to check up on Grace again. To ensure that she was situated with the cast that she would need to wear for a few weeks. "Grace?" You announced yourself, as you peered down at your clipboard again. When you looked up, your heart dropped upon seeing her bed empty. It was only when the door slammed behind you that you grew scared. "Grace?" You looked at her and then at the knife she held in her left hand, how she came into possession of it you hadn't known.

"You kissed him…" She muttered softly. "I didn't realize he had his eyes set on someone else. I thought what we had was just between us. I'm so stupid!" You flinch at her exclaim.

Your eyes widened when you saw the tears in her eyes. The grip she held on the hospital knife was tight, her knuckles almost turning white. "Grace, no, listen to me!" You quickly moved to try and reach out to her but stopped short when she snapped.

"Stay back!" You held your hands up in surrender, holding in the sharp inhale you desperately wanted to take. "You took him from me!"

"I didn't know..." She looks up at you. "If I had known how much you liked him. I wouldn't have kissed him." You play along with her in hopes she won't hurt herself, or you. It was only then that you realized her bones were settled back into place. "Grace what happened to your arm did you- did you put them back into place?" You were shocked.

Grace's eyes flit down to her arm, a frown on her face. "I needed to feel something…" She said softly. "I needed to feel something other than the pain in my heart."

She looks up at you again, her grip on the knife never faltering. "Why was it you, huh? Why not me? What do you have that I don't? I go out of my way to have him examine me, and spend time with me. I was this close to getting him alone today, but then I saw him kiss you..."

"I ask myself that every day, Grace. I don't know why he chose me. Things just happen, people come into your life and you go from there with them."

She scowls at that response, her eyes narrowing into a glare. "You're around him too much…" The knife trembles in her grip. "That's why he's been distracted lately."

She took a step closer, and you instinctively found yourself stepping back in response. Her glare darkened, now laced with jealousy and possessiveness. "I wonder…" She says slowly, almost as if she's contemplating her next words. "Maybe if you weren't around so much anymore, I could finally have my chance…"

"Grace, please don't!" Your plea is ignored. She continues to step closer to you, her eyes glued on you and the way you flinch away from her.

"Why not?" She presses. "You get to be around him, you get to kiss him. It's not fair. He's supposed to be mine! I should be the one that gets to kiss him!"

"If you hurt me, Grace. Conrad will never forgive you. He won't want to kiss you."

Grace's bottom lip trembled at your words. It's clear that your words are getting to her, her eyes filling with tears and her gaze averting down to the floor. She knows that you're right. But her jealousy and obsession over Conrad was too strong. Her head lifts and she looks at you again, her grip on the knife tightening. "I don't care…" She whispers, her voice now trembling, and before you know it the end of the knife had met your abdomen, and then your chest. "If I can't have him, neither will you." She lowers you to the ground gently, caressing your hair as you wheeze for air.

"Grac-" You muster before, she gets up and leaves the room.

Grace was gone as quickly as she came, leaving you in a quickly darkening room as the edges of your vision slowly started to blacken. You hear a faint 'excuse me' in the distance, then another voice saying to go up the elevator, but they all turn muffled as you feel your consciousness slowly slip away.

-

"I'd probably run a CT Scan. Make sure we're not dealing with any internal bleeding-"

"Dr. Hawkins..." Conrad and Devon looked up in time to see Grace stop a few feet away from them. Both Conrad and Devon's eyes widened when they saw the blood on her shirt. Conrad's breath caught in his throat in his own wave of panic, but he forced himself to remain focused, to remain calm.

Conrad put down the clipboard Devon had given him and put his hands out cautiously. The two main things that caught his attention were the blood on her shirt and left hand and the fact her bones didn't appear to look broken on her right arm especially since there was no cast on it either. "Hi, Grace...You okay? Wanna tell me what happened?"

"I'm better now seeing you." She smiled earnestly, though hesitation still arose behind her eyes as she realized she had an audience.

Conrad forced a smile onto his face, glancing briefly in Devon's direction, signaling to the crash cart discreetly. He took a few steps forward, keeping a safe distance from her, but still close enough that he could reach her if he needed to. "That…That's good to hear, Grace." He said slowly. "But I was referring more to the blood on your clothes. Grace, who's blood is that? I won't be mad if you tell me."

Grace shook her head. "You will. She said you wouldn't kiss me if I hurt her. I don't want you to be mad at me."

Conrad's heart dropped at her response, though his expression didn't give it away. "…You didn't." He muttered, and it was more of a statement than a question. He took another few steps forward, his eyes boring into hers. “Who told you that, Grace?” Conrad asked, his voice now taking on a slightly lower tone. "Did you accidentally hurt someone? Someone you didn't mean to hurt. You can tell me I won't get mad." His tone was soft again, his eyes still focused on her. The gears were already turning in his head on who her victim was but he didn't want it to be true. "But I need you to tell me who's blood that is, Grace."

"I'll tell you, b-but you have to kiss me first. She said you wouldn't and I want to prove her wrong."

Conrad was tempted to grab her and shake her, to demand answers. But he knew that wasn't the answer. He kept his cool and took another step forward, so he was now directly in front of her and within reaching distance. "Okay," He said slowly, his eyes searching her face. "You want a kiss first, I'll kiss you."

"You will." Her eyes lightened with hope.

Conrad swallows the lump in his throat and slowly steps closer, bringing a hand up to cup the side of her face. He leans in, pausing for a moment. His hand brushed back a strand of her hair as she gazed at him like he hung the stars in her sky. He stalls and presses his head against her as he watches Devon come in from behind her. A sedative in his hands. Conrad tries once more hoping she'll open up about your whereabouts. "Where is she, Grace?" He whispered.

"I don't like pasta very much, but maybe we can get takeout sometime." Is as much as she lets out before the syringe is plunged into the vein on her neck.

Conrad watches as Grace's eyes widen and slowly glaze over. A moment later her body goes slack, and he catches her before she can fall. He sighs, running a hand through his hair as he watches her body drop into a deep slumber. The realization settles, how Grace had been listening to the conversation you both had been having. You both hadn't been far from her room either. Devon appears at his side, a nervous look on his face. "Conrad, what the hell just happened?" Devon questions, checking Grace's pulse. "Conrad!" He yells after him as he sees him begin to take off into a run.

"Start prepping an O.R. now! Page Mina and possibly AJ! Page anyone to floor 3 now!" Conrad doesn't wait for a response. Devon ordered a few nurses to watch over her, giving orders on where to take her. Before taking off after Conrad.

"Conrad!"

"It's Y/n's blood!" Devon's face pales as he tries to keep up with him.

-

Conrad pushes through the doors, cursing under his breath as he sprints down the halls of floor 3. Fear and adrenaline pump through his veins, his heart thundering in his chest.

Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay…please. His thoughts chanted as he reached Grace's room.

Conrad doesn't think twice before bursting into the room. He chokes back a sob as he sees you in a puddle of your own blood. He acts fast checking for your pulse. "Baby hey, can you hear me?"

"We need a gurney and crash cart, now! Some gauze!" Devon orders to anyone listening in the halls. "Conrad, what the hell is happening, who was the girl?"

"Her name's Grace she comes in twice a month to see me."

"To see you?"

"Y/n thinks she's obsessed with me. Turns out she was right. Last month Grace had mentioned how lonely she felt living in her apartment. Now I'm starting to realize she probably meant other forms of company. I suggested she get a dog…"

"She bought a dog didn't she...oh god!"

"Y/n, baby, can you hear me!" Conrad continued patting your face. "Grace came in this morning, she broke her hand chasing after the suggested dog. I didn't think- I should've realized! Where's that damn crash cart!" Conrad yells out angrily.

A scowl takes over his face as he checks for any other wounds, but all he can see is the deep stab wound in the side of your stomach and on your chest. The nurses arrive wheeling along a gurney and a crash cart. Conrad snaps out of his thoughts and focuses on the situation at hand, grabbing the gauze from one of the nurses and pressing it firmly to your bleeding wounds.

"Damnit, baby, just hold on okay? Keep fighting." He muttered, eyes trained on your face.

He doesn't wait for the nurses to transfer you to the gurney, instead, he picks you up himself, holding you to his chest as he carefully lays you down on the gurney. Devon and the rest of the staff stand off to the side, watching as Conrad moves around you, keeping a firm grip on the gauze on the wounds as the nurses wheel you out into the hallway and towards the E.R.

-

"She was stabbed. Wound to her chest, and to her abdomen."

"Her pulse is barely there."

"She's in v-tech," Irving announced as he looked up at the monitor.

"Lost a pulse!"

"Someone get the defibrillator."

"They're gone we don't have one." Ellen reminded them.

"It's her heart..." Conrad was sure Grace had stabbed you right where she knew it would hurt you.

"We need to set up an OR now, we're losing her!" Conrad insisted urgently.

"Do we even have a functioning OR?"

"We'll put one together!" Bell and Kit said.

"Call staff back in, now!"

They began wheeling you to the OR when a wheeze and a cough broke out from your unconscious state. Blood spilled past your lips onto your oxygen mask.

"She's haematemesis!" Conrad exclaims. "Hold on for me baby, stay with us! She's choking on her own blood, she's bleeding internally!"

"Conrad we got her from here." Mina reassured as they crossed passed the red line he couldn't walk past.

Conrad reluctantly backs away from you, letting them take over and wheel you away. He stands just before the red line, a hand coming up to rub his face as a mixture of emotions fills him - guilt, worry, anger, and fear. He feels a hand on his shoulder, and he looks over to see Kitt's face etched with concern.

"What can I do?" She questions, her grip on his shoulder tightening.

"Call my dad and her sister. They need to get here now!"

Kitt silently nods at his request, and Conrad hears her calling someone as he turns to stare at the double doors you were just wheeled behind, disappearing from his sight. The only thing he could do now was wait. He looks at his hands behind sliding down to the floor. Various flashes and reminders of your voice and the conversations you had, ran through his mind, along with the ones that ran a chill through his spine.

Beautiful What’s the catch? Can’t I bring my fiance a cup of coffee out of the pure goodness of my heart? You can…but something lies behind those devious eyes. In the meantime, just wait here, I'll be back to reset your bones.Well Dr. Hawkins…when you flash her that dazzling smile and hold her gently, how can she resist doing everything that comes out of your damn mouth! Well, that idea sounds a whole lot better than the Guinea Pig- Stop, stop, stop! I can't breathe. You’re impossible. That's improbable to you. Pain in my ass… That so, Dr Hawkins. What would you like for dinner? Are you offering to cook? Yes, I'll cook tonight. What do you want? Surprise me. You got mad last time when I did. Chicken, with pasta!

You will. She said you wouldn't kiss me if I hurt her. I don't want you to be mad at me. I don't like pasta very much, but maybe we can get takeout sometime.

A sob rattled through him as he brought his palms up to his head. Hoping and praying you'd make it through. It wasn't long before he moved up to watch in on your surgery. The entire operation felt like never-ending hours.

-

He hadn't known how long he had sat in his chair. He was just waiting for the aftermath to finally hit him. And it had, as soon as Kitt walked in after some time, letting the door shut behind her. She stood there for a moment contemplating how to gather her words.

"Just give it to me straight..." Conrad looked up at her.

"She lost a lot of blood and she was down for a long time. We won't know her neurological status until we wake her up. They're moving her to the ICU."

Conrad nodded at this newfound information. He broke down again when her gentle hand touched his shoulder.

"There's one more thing..."

Conrad's entire body went stiff. He knew whatever else Kitt had to tell him was either really good or extremely bad. He silently nodded for her to continue, mentally bracing himself for the next words that came out of her mouth. Conrad lifted his head slowly. His brows furrowed as Kitt sat down beside him. She grabbed his hands.

"Come on, give it to me straight here." He urged her, the suspense killing him.

"Y/n was pregnant."

Conrad's heart dropped to his stomach and he was positive someone just dumped a bucket of ice water on him. He stares at Kitt in disbelief, unsure of whether he heard her right. His chest ached and all of the air was knocked out of his lungs as he sat there stunned, staring at her.

"Was?" He whispered, his voice cracking.

Kitt shook her head, disheartened. "She lost it."

Conrad felt as if he was going to be sick. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the chair as he took in a shaky breath.

"How far along was she?" He managed to get out.

"She hadn't told you yet did she?" Kitt inhales. "S-She was about 18 weeks along from what we could tell…I'm so sorry Conrad."

Conrad's breath hitched at the response, and he struggled to hold his emotions together. He gripped the arms of the chairs, his knuckles beginning to turn white. The room was beginning to spin and the news hit him like a ton of bricks. He took a moment to collect himself before looking at Kitt again.

"18 weeks," He repeated, unable to believe it. "And I didn't even know?"

"You still have her Conrad. If I know Y/n, she's a fighter, she'll pull through her recovery."

Conrad nodded at Kitt's words, trying to find comfort in them, but the pain he felt was almost unbearable. He felt responsible for not paying closer attention to you and to your behavior. He had overlooked the fact that you hadn't been feeling well due to the added stress. He should have caught the hints.

"I should have…" He began to say, but the words caught in his throat. "I should've listened to her…I should have realized sooner I-" A sob broke out of him. He clung to Kitt as she consoled him into her arms. Shushing him and saying everything was going to be okay.

After Kitt calmed him down, she left to give him a few moments alone. As he sat there, staring at the wall. Images of you and his unborn child filled his thoughts. He tried to imagine a life with you and your little one. He imagined teaching them how to walk and talk, tucking them into bed, holding your swollen belly, and feeling their kick. He imagined the life of fatherhood.

As he sat there, a wave of anger and determination washed over him. He needed to see you. He needed to see you, to feel you. To hold you in his arms and never let you go.

Taking a deep breath, Conrad stood up and slowly made his way to the ICU. The halls were eerily quiet as he walked through them, the sound of his footsteps echoed off the walls. When he reached the ICU room, he stopped and peered in through the door. He saw you lying in bed, surrounded by machines and tubes. Your face was pale and your chest slowly rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

He let out a shaky breath and leaned his head forward, letting it gently rest on the wall. He closed his eyes and silently willed himself to remain calm. He couldn't break down in front of anyone else, not here. He took in a few more deep breaths and slowly began to regain control of his emotions. As he stood there, his mind racing with thoughts, the silence around him felt deafening. He wanted nothing more than to have you crack a joke just to put him at ease.

"Hey baby, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon okay." Conrad sat down on the chair by your bed, his hand grasping yours gently and his eyes studying your features. Everything felt so familiar - his hand wrapped around yours, your skin, your hair, all of it. He felt a small wave of relief wash over him, knowing you were at least here, right in front of him. Slowly, he brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against it. "When you wake up, I'm taking you home once you're allowed to be discharged. I'll cook you anything you want okay? I'll cook you chicken and pasta for the rest of our lives if that’s what you want, cause I know it's your favorite. Anything you want...you name it, baby." He chuckles lightly to himself but breaks down once more. Tears fall down his face onto your sheets as he tightens his hold on your hand.

"I'm here," He whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm right here."

[ayyy-pee]

Can we get some Nanami fluff where he’s caring for reader on her period?

hi bby!!! i am SO LATE with this one and it ended up being super different than what i first imagined it being lol but i felt like it fit the vibe of SIL so here we are with yet another Strangers in Love bit LOL (click the link if you haven't read SIL yet!)

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Pairing: Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Summary: Just a little drabble about how Nanami cares for SIL reader on her period...

Genre: Divorced to Lovers AU

What was it you had asked for again?

Nanami stands in the female hygiene product aisle at the drugstore, arms full of various items that he thinks may be beneficial for you. The confident air he exuded when he’d first entered the store has long faded and has been replaced with nothing but nerves. Nanami ticks off the boxes in his mental checklist, because it’s been so long since he’s had to do this for you, or any woman really, that he’s completely second guessing himself.

“Heating pad…” he murmurs under his breath. “Painkillers…chocolates…or does she prefer gummy worms now? Hmm…”

The large variety of products has his head spinning and he’s embarrassed to admit that he’s been standing in this aisle for far longer than he had intended. This is definitely not how he planned his day to go. 

Earlier That Day…

Nanami’s eyes watch the minute hand tick by on his wristwatch. It’s early Friday morning, and he should have left for work by now. But you haven’t gotten up yet, breaking the routine you two have picked back up on after all these years apart. It doesn't matter what day it is, or what time it is, if you're staying over at each other's places, you're up to say goodbye to one another. So you still being asleep is throwing Nanami off. Not that you can’t sleep in from time to time, but you just…don’t usually. 

And honestly, he doesn’t want to leave without saying goodbye to you. 

He can’t bear to mess this up again when your relationship has been going so well since dating again.

So instead, Nanami sets his briefcase down in your foyer and heads to your bedroom. When he opens the door, he’s met with darkness and silence. He can just barely make out your form beneath the blankets. You must be exhausted to be sleeping in and Nanami does not want to disturb you, so he quietly moves to close your door so he can head out. He’ll simply send you a text that he left while you were sleeping. That way it doesn’t seem as though he left without taking you into consideration.

The door is less than an inch from closing when Nanami thinks he hears something, the noise so hushed he almost misses it. He pauses, gives it a few seconds, and just before he moves to close the door again, he hears it once more. There’s no mistaking it, the quiet little sniffle coming from inside the bedroom, followed by an even quieter sob.

He’s moving before he realizes it. Nanami kneels beside your bed, gently peeling the blankets back and although he can’t see you in the dim early lighting, Nanami just knows. You’re crying. For what reason, he doesn’t know. But it kills him all the same.

“What’s wrong, my love?” He asks gently, a hand coming to caress your wet cheek. “Are you okay?”

His question makes you openly cry now, the tears flowing freely as Nanami quickly shuffles to the other side of your bed to lie with you, not caring that he’s ruining his suit as he scoots to hold you. His front presses against your back, large palm coming down to press against your stomach, and for some reason you sigh as though the warmth and pressure from his hand gives you some sort of relief.

Nanami nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent. “Talk to me, love. What’s the matter?”

It takes you a moment, but when you finally speak, your voice comes out strained and tired. “Ugh…I started my period and I’m so damn miserable…” you groan, sniffling. “I think I’m dying…I need to run to the store but–”

“What do you need? I’ll go for you,” Nanami volunteers immediately. The last thing he wants is for you to go out in this condition. “I think I remember the products you use…”

You make a noise that sounds like a mixture of a laugh and a hiss of pain before you sigh out, “I don’t know if I should be flattered that you remember or I don’t know…disturbed? Are you that obsessed with me?”

“Yes,” he answers, instantly. He nuzzles further into you if possible. “I still remember the first time I ran to the convenience store to buy you products back in college. And the time I had to give you an extra pair of pants when you’d started your cycle unexpectedly, and–”

“Kennnnn,” you whine. “You’re so sweet and so strange. Why do you remember that?”

Nanami chuckles, softly rubbing his hand in soothing circles against your lower abdomen. “It’s not meant to be weird, but I remember these were big moments in our relationship. What I mean is, I want to take care of you.”

“What about work? You’ll be late…”

“I’m not going. You need me here.”

You curl into a ball before him and just a few seconds pass before he feels your body shaking, wracked with sobs. “Stop saying sweet things to meeeee,” you whine. “I love you so muuuuch.”

“Okay…okay,” he agrees. “I’m heading to the store, then. I’ll get you what you need, but if you think of anything else, just message me.” He kisses the top of your head, slowly peeling himself away from you, though he wants to stay in bed for as long as you’re there. But Nanami knows you need these essentials so that you’re comfortable. He’ll make the trip as quick as possible.

Currently…

This trip was not as quick as possible. His brown eyes stare at the selection before him. Did you use winged pads? Non-winged? Scented or not? Heavy flow or light flow? Or maybe you had grown to prefer tampons? Or…what the hell is a diva cup?

“Sir?” A soft voice calls out to him. Nanami turns his head to see a store attendant, an elderly woman, gazing softly at him. Her eyes crinkle at the corners as she smiles. “I’ve passed by this aisle a few times now and you’re still here. Did you need some assistance?”

Well, this is beyond embarrassing. All that talk of remembering your preferences, being obsessed with you (not a lie), and recalling memories that made you feel confident enough in sending him out alone into the world to bring you back something useful. All that, just for Nanami to get to the store, standing in a wrinkled business suit, and having absolutely no clue what he’s looking at.

Not only that, but some poor old woman is now taking pity on him and offering her services. He wants to take her up on her offer, but he also stubbornly wants to prove to himself that he can take care of you. But while he’s being stubborn, you’re suffering and that is something Nanami can’t stand to let continue.

He gives the woman a tight smile. “Actually, if you could–”

His phone buzzing in his pocket cuts him off. He mutters an “excuse me” and he finds himself dropping whatever is in his arms to answer. Only one person would call him this early in the morning. He answers without question, mouthing an apology to the attendant who waits patiently.

“My love,” he answers, brows furrowing when he hears your giggles on the other end of the line. Much different than what he expected seeing as he left you in a puddle of your own tears before going to the store.

“How long have you been standing around at the store?” You ask teasingly, and Nanami purses his lips together.

“I’ll have you know that…” he sighs in defeat. There’s no point in denying it. “It hasn’t been that long.”

Your laughter rings through and Nanami can’t help the wide grin on his face. The attendant clears her throat politely, reminding him that she’s still waiting. He covers the receiver on his phone. “Thank you so much for your help. My wife is going to take it from here.”

The woman nods, making her way out of the aisle and Nanami resumes his call with you.

“You called me your wife…” you breathe softly. 

Nanami feels his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. It was just a habit that he supposes never died. He opens his mouth to apologize, but your giggles surprise him. He expected discomfort, maybe anger given your history, but you don’t seem to feel either of those things. You simply brush it off and keep talking.

“Okay, so, here’s what I need–”

- - - - - -

“It smells so good in here, Kento.” Your sweet voice carries through the kitchen, arms looping around Nanami’s torso from behind. The sun is slowly beginning to set now, casting a warm glow through the kitchen windows as Nanami finishes up dinner. You’ve been resting on the sofa most of the day with your heating pad and whatever strange snacks you’ve been craving. Your pain has finally eased up and Nanami feels like he can breathe easier now that your face isn’t constantly contorted from your cramps. It’s been nice to let you just sit around. He’s simply been helping around your apartment with taking care of some household chores while you recover.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, stirring one last time before tasting the soup he’s thrown together. He makes a mental note to pick up some groceries for you so that there’s a better selection of ingredients for him to choose from for the next meal.

“So much better. Thank you so much for everything today, Kento.”

Nanami switches the stove off, spinning around in your embrace and wrapping his arms around your waist. “Of course. I’m just happy I was here to help.”

You smile shyly, and it’s Nanami’s favorite of all your expressions. “Me too,” you tell him. You lay your head against his chest, sighing contently as you murmur something that sends his heart into full on overdrive... 

“You should move in.”

[i-cant-sing]

What are your thoughts on the yandere haikyuu teams x their manager?

Boring. I need some spice in it. How about-

Yandere Daichi as a cop and his darling is a civilian and now he's so obsessed with her that he murders her husband, frames him as a criminal and will literally stop at nothing to get darling in his arms because again... who will suspect good old, everybody's best bud COP Daichi to be able to do heinous crimes???

Yandere Sugawara as a psychiatrist because come on- he gives major "master manipulator" vibes and now he's obsessed with his darling patient and will continue to do malpractice and gaslight her and prescribe her all the wrong meds until she loses it and he gets to admit it her under his "special care" and now he can play with her mind all day long🤍

Yandere Oikawa is now a pro volleyball athlete and he just saw Ushijima's little sis, the same one he used to bully and even rejected (and ofc, HUMILIATED) when she confessed to him back in highschool. But now Oikawa's obsessed with her and also still hates his nemesis Ushijima, so what's better than killing two birds with one stone??? And Oikawa still has a very devoted fanclub, only now it's larger and more powerful than ever so now he uses them and his socials to peer pressure you into dating him and eventually, marrying him because he ain't getting any younger honey and he needs some cute babies out of you ASAP.

Yandere Kuroo who is the smart IT tech guy at your office but in reality, he has his own cyber security company that he uses to spy on you, controls your entire life through your socials and don't even get me started on your online banking shit. If its any consolation, he's very rich so... yeah. He may not look like a million bucks, but he does have them. In several offshore accounts.

Yandere Kita who somehow ended up as a mafia leader, probably inherited it as family business and he has like severe OCD so he wants everything done to perfection or so help you, you will 1000% end up 6 feet under. Mafia Kita who has this vision of you being the perfect wife, solely based om the one time you offered him your handkerchiefs because he had a nosebleed from stressing too much and now Kita thinks you're an absolute angel and he wont let you destroy that fantasy of his. Seriously. He will pick out your outfits, tell you how to act and all, punish you if he must, but he does love you.

Yandere Ushijima who is a farmer and has decided that the reader whose car broke down and came to his door asking for help, will now be his wife and be a countryside mom to many kids (u can't say no, okay? He wants a big family) and animals! But hey, he's a very caring husband and will massage your feet, give you baths and feed you his homegrown veggies and meals daily once you are round with his babies🥺

Yandere Bokuto who is now a popular politician and he needs an obedient wife to keep up appearances and play the "family man" image up. So he decides to threaten reader who had a one night stand with him, and Bokuto somehow has very intimate images and videos of you and he uses them to get you to marry him. And now he controls every aspect of your life and tells you to do exactly as he says, and he abuses this privilege more as he gets more powerful and you could only imagine the horrors he would inflict on you if he does actually win elections, but you can't run away because again- he has eyes and contacts everywhere.

[literary-motif]

In All My Dreams I Drown

Asirel Cain x Reader

Asirel experiences sleep paralysis.

Warnings: Insomnia, sleep paralysis

Asirel was not afraid of the dark. He had never been. The inky blackness of night had a way of soothing him. It seemed almost like the only escape from the crushing responsibility he carried during the day — almost because although the US slept, there were plenty of places around the world that were bussing with life and plenty of phone calls and e-mails he received during the dark hours. 

Still, it felt different. Breathing was easier during the night. He had always enjoyed being awake while the world around him slept. 

He had stretched this indulgence a little too far, it seemed. 

When he first started he had finished business at perhaps one in the morning, going off to bed soon after. One had turned to two over the years, two to three. Now when he looked up from his computer screen, it was usual to see the blue tint of the early morning light, just before the sunrise. He went to bed when the sun rose, but his daily responsibilities never lessened. 

Somehow, there was always more to do — more to plan, more to think about,  more to work out. He was always busy, and although his hours of sleep had been steadily reduced over many years, the time he tried to wake up rarely varied. 

It was becoming an issue. Asirel was very much aware of that. He had fought long and hard to reduce his hours, choosing to slip into bed as early as eleven at night, only to lie awake until the early hours anyway. 

What had started as simply an unconventional sleeping schedule had developed into a more serious issue. 

“Mr. Cain,” the blonde woman before him had said, giving him a sympathetic smile he thought she must flash to every patient. The sterile whiteness of her office nearly outshone the brightness of her coat, the stethoscope practically gleaming under the harsh artificial lights. “I am afraid there is not much I can do. Plainly speaking, it seems to me that you are under a lot of stress — if you reduce the stress, I am sure your insomnia will disappear.”

He had wanted to scoff but returned her smile with his own. It was polite, although a bit sardonic. “How do you suppose I do that, Doctor?”

She blinked as if nobody had ever asked her that question. “Well, it depends on what causes the stress, but either way I’d suggest—”

Physical activity. This time he did scoff, hiding it behind a cough. 

Working out seemed the cure for everything, just like water. Asirel, have you tried going outside more? His mother’s words had felt mocking, and hearing the same advice from this professional who did not take his ailment seriously made a bitter taste appear in his mouth. 

Headache? Drink some water. Back pain? Have you tried losing weight? Insomnia? Why, do some sports! 

Pathetic. He took the prescription for sleeping pills without another word. 

Sleeplessness in adults was very common, stress from work being mostly the cause of it, and although he supposed everyone experienced a bad night of sleep every once in a while — where they tossed and turned endlessly, without getting their mind to shut up as thoughts and worries swirled around until night turned to day and it felt like they had not slept at all — if these issues persisted for over half a month, things were no longer casual. 

Reduce the stress she had said. How exactly could he do that, when his very existence came with a relentless pressure pushing down on his shoulders? His life was heavy. He did important things, and although he loved the responsibility and influence he had — the power. He loved the power of his job — he was the first to admit that his work had cost him many sleepless nights and hours pouring over papers at his desk with seemingly no end in sight. 

The world was draining him of his strength, the love for his work — and the determination to change things according to his vision for it — faded under the relentless strain he had been under. He was at the end of his rope.

Much like a broken arm or sprained ankle, his insomnia hurt. It had causes, it had consequences. His mind felt like mush on some days, his thoughts dragging along until it took too much energy to direct their stream. His memory worsened, and the days blended — he remembered only little bursts of something, the important bits of meetings and conversations while all the rest faded to black. 

How long since he had last seen his mother? A day? A week? When had his sister called? This morning? The day before yesterday? It was all a big lump of gray. 

When had he last fed you? It must not have been that long ago, or else you would have complained.

Asirel was exhausted. He needed the world to stop for a day until he had his mind back together and ceased fraying at the edges. He took two sleeping pills, downing them with a large gulp of water.

They did not work as he had wished. He lay on his back, listening to the clock ticking on the other side of the room until his eyelids dropped, but he did not sleep. He lay awake for hours — still hours — until he slipped into oblivion, but his sleep was far from restful. 

It felt like he did not sleep at all.

He thought he opened his eyes in the morning, looking at the rays of sun streaming in through his window. He found he could not move. His heart skipped a beat, his mind slipping into a spiral of panic that the rational part of his brain sliced through with two words: sleep paralysis.

Where were the hallucinations? 

As the thought crossed his mind, he heard it. Loud banging came from the hallway, stomping that came closer and closer. His heart sped up, fear pulling him under despite knowing this was not real. He knew it, but the bangs approaching, getting louder and louder in tandem with his racing heartbeat made it hard to believe it. 

He tried to close his eyes, not wanting to see what his mind would come up with to torment him, but he could not. The room would not disappear before him, and he still could not move. 

Terror seized him, and he tried fighting the unshakable pressure pinning him down. The world around him felt like dough, his body limp around it as it was pushed into the mattress. There was a weight on his chest, heavy, unlike anything he had ever experienced before as it crushed him, keeping his lungs trapped. 

Something moved at the edge of his vision. The stomping approached closer and closer. Asirel wanted to scream. He tried, but his mouth did not comply, there was no air in his lungs. The only thing escaping him was a low whimper. The stomping came from right beside his bed.

A figure walked into his line of vision. It vaguely looked like him, but as he stared into its pale face — too pale — he saw blood trickling from its mouth. Its hair was dirty, a dark shade of blonde with specks of deep red in it. Its black eyes stared at him as it approached. 

He had never been as scared as he was now, helplessly trapped in his mind while this shadow version of himself reached out a bloodied hand towards his face. It leaned closer, hovering inches from him. 

“They’re coming to make you pay,” it said, "make you pay. Pay. For all you have done, they’ll make you pay. Pay. Pay. I’ll kill you if you don’t pay. Make you pay. They’re coming. They’re coming! Hide!”

The door flung open. Asirel felt himself resurfacing. The apparition vanished, the banging stopped and he blinked his eyes open. His brain felt numb, slowly awakening with pins and needles as he turned around. He still felt heavy, barely awake as reality slowly clicked back into place.

You stood in the doorway, surveying the room with a stance that told him you were ready to lunge at an attacker. Once you realized the room was empty, your eyebrows furrowed. “I heard your heart beating out of your chest not twenty seconds ago, Asirel. What’s going on?”

The pressure on his chest had lifted, and he let out a deep sigh as he moved a hand — relief flooding when he realized he could — to rest against his forehead. What an experience. Something still felt off, and there was a creeping terror at the edge of his mind that he could not shake. 

“Had,” he cleared his throat, closing his eyes to escape your puzzled expression, “had a— a nightmare, I suppose.” It was not the truth, but he did not feel like explaining sleep paralysis to you. The experience was still too fresh on his mind, and he feared talking about it might make it more real, turning this into a permanent curse. “Thanks for— for waking me.” Thanks for watching out for me.

You stared at him, the trembling in his voice and his still accelerated heartbeat telling you that something had shaken him to his core. “No problem,” you said, approaching him to sit on the edge of the bed. 

Asirel gave you an uncertain look. Hesitatingly, he lifted the edge of the covers. 

You chuckled, slipping in beside him. He snuggled into your arms immediately, resting his head on your shoulder and breathing in your scent. 

It grounded him, having you close. Your strong arms around him made him feel secure like nothing else could, certain that you would protect him. Despite it all, he knew he could trust you — and you knew he did as you heard his heartbeat even out and his breathing deepen. “Do you mind if I—?” he mumbled, eyelids drooping.

“Go ahead. I’ll be here when you wake up,” you said, fastening your hold on him. Asirel drifted off to sleep in your arms, catching a few hours of the most restful sleep he had had in a long time. 

[future-island-egghead]

Man I have so many thoughts on the Seraphim and since it's been over a year since their introduction I've had a lot more of them but overall I kinda.. feel bad for them, more than anything else?

No matter how powerful or scary or cool they are, one thing always remains the most important and unforgettable aspect of them.

They're sentient. They're sapient. They're aware and alive. They're people.

Not just people. But children.

They're just children.

And they have to grapple with being the crossover of two terrible things to be.

A clone of someone else, who's life has already been lived and decided by their own terms, and forced to follow it to the letter, and having no fundamental identity independent of them. only footprints of memories that aren't even their own, purely for the purpose of making them better fighters. How can they be anything more than simple variations or derivatives of "real" people? Can they even consider themselves "real"?

A pacifista. A human weapon. No agency. No humanity. Stripped of everything from will to dreams to freedom to even self-expression and forced to follow commands and never ask questions. Like a soldier. Like less than a soldier. Like a tool.

Like a gun.

Vegapunk said that Kuma's lack of free will would force him to obey, even if they asked him to murder a child. But he originally had free will to begin with. Kuma's life as PX-0, a sentient being with no will of his own, nothing more than a passenger in his own body is a nightmare. S-Bear has known nothing but that nightmare since birth.

People said that Doflamingo was born evil, but in reality, his life was shaped by the events he lived through more than anyone in-universe wants to admit. I wonder how S-Flamingo must feel, forced to carry on Doflamingo's legacy as a monster to the core, regardless of how monstrous he himself might or might not be. i wonder if the pressure of being the clone of a demon will cause a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Hancock's worldwide status was one even she did not want. It was a curse she herself learned to turn into a weapon. S-Snake does not even get the privilege of encountering OR weaponizing the curse herself. Already forced into the limelight without warning, and the eyes won't leave. Everyone already treating her like a celebrity, without a chance to even know what it was like to be a person first.

All she can do now is follow the same government that traumatized her origin and forced her to destroy her home.

Similarly, what of S-Hawk? Moreso than any seraph, any creation of the World Government, surely all eyes are on him to succeed. to be the strongest of the Seraphim and a symbol of total global safety. The world's strongest swordsman, new and improved, right? And what if he isn't? What if he's not as strong as Mihawk? What if he never is? What if he can't do it?

And what if he does? What if he ends up even worse than his origin: a bored god sitting on an empty throne with an empty title, with no one left to challenge him?

Jinbei wanted nothing in the world more than discrimination towards Fish-Men and Merfolk to end, to the degree he'd stake his life on it without hesitation. I wonder how S-Shark, a tool of the World Government, partly born from a race nearly extinguished by them, and forced to uphold their fascist, discriminatory rule against his will feels.

If Crocodile's secret is indeed his transgender identity, then what does that mean for S-Croc? At least Crocodile got the opportunity to keep it under wraps, even if some people do know. S-Croc will never get that opportunity, ever. the whole world on him from birth. Will they even let him be.. him? or will they force him to live in a body and identity that not only isn't even his own, but isn't anybody's at all?

and if it isn't, sure! I suppose he won't have to worry about that. but what of his intelligence? his own ambitions? It's said that Crocodile's greatest attribute was his mind, but the seraphim aren't allowed to break from the orders of others or formulate strategies, so S-Croc would be forced to take orders from people less experienced or intuitive. The footprints of a forgotten dream of wealth, fame, power, and freedom still sputter in his chest. A natural-born leader, forced into the role of lowly weapon, emptily paraded as a hero. How pitiful.

And S-Gecko? Always the runt. The last one. The weakest of the bunch. The world government never cared enough to hide their disdain and contempt for Moria. I can't imagine this won't bleed into how they treat S-Gecko. No matter how hard he works, being treated as nothing more than the worst of the best. Being equated to nothing but failure because his origin was one and constantly put down as "obligatory" and only existing at all because they couldn't get a better warlord to clone instead. Sure, he's not traumatized by the loss of his crew like Moria was.

But at least Moria had a crew.

The Seraphim are scary, and they're powerful. They're not naturally-born organisms, and they're programmed to follow the words of the World Government, even if told to kill in cold blood.

But they're still people.

They're still alive.

They're just children.

For the love of Nika, they're only children.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Historia de Amor 2

Hello everyone!

This is the Part 2 of "Historia de Amor" with Ona, I had a few people asking to have a second part so here is it :)

TW : Jealousy, a hint of sadness and so much love.

PART 1 IS HERE and BONUS CHAPTER HERE

First Jealousy

It’s been almost a year now since you and Ona met and you are dating. After spending a summer shared between Villassar de Mar with Ona's family (that you appreciate very much) and Menorca only the both of you, you are back in Manchester.

The weeks pass and over time, you realize that Ona’s new teammate who is also a teammate of her national team is taking more and more place in her life. When Ona informed you of her arrival, she explained that she wanted to help her to integrate as quickly and easily as possible into the team. Having been there at that time, having Ivana take her under her wing had helped her a lot and she wanted to do the same in her turn.

You didn’t think anything bad for a second about your girlfriend’s idea, you know how good she is and her tendency to want everyone to feel the best possible. And you know in your heart that Ona never thought a single second wrong either.

Yet, you find yourself tonight after a day organized by the girls of the team with a strange feeling in the stomach. The players' boyfriends or girlfriends being accepted, it's quite naturally that Ona offered to you to accompany her. And you agreed, enjoying spending time with the United's girls.

But the way the new one had to constantly seek Ona’s attention throughout the day ended up drawing your attention and certainly not in the right way. She didn't hesitate to interrupt you several times while you were in discussion with Ona, she hurried to settle on the other side of Ona during the meal and you simply couldn't have a single second with the brunette without the other being stuck to her sneakers.

And then there’s also the way she looks at your girlfriend that makes you half crazy.

Of course, Ona is beautiful to die for. Even if she is just as beautiful internally, you must admit that Ona's beauty is the first thing you noticed the first time you saw her. But only you would have the right to look at her that way. Not to mention the hands she tends to leave lying on Ona’s arm or back when she talks to her or seeks her attention.

Your mood deteriorated throughout the day and in the middle of the afternoon you finally asked Ona if you could go home. She accepted, searching for your eyes, probably to see what was going on. But you just looked straight ahead before following her to say goodbye to her teammates. You stayed a little longer with Leah Galton who was the host today to thank her and you went to Ona’s car.

You were relieved to get her out of the claws of the one you named in your head "The Leech", but you knew on the other hand that you would receive several questions. Usually, you are more of the type to enjoy every minute of this kind of moments and it's Ona who decide when it's time to go home.

"Are you all right?" asks Ona nicely as she close her door.

You simply nod and hum, tapping on the car screen to put music on.

"You’ve always been a terrible liar, Hermosa"

You sigh softly and look up at Ona, who is watching you as good as she can while keeping her attention on the road.

"I just…" you start to trying to formulate your thoughts coherently, in vain. "It’s nothing, Love."

"You’re starting to worry me"

The worry is indeed audible in Ona’s voice and you bite your lip. When she puts her hand on your thigh, adding a comforting pressure, you let yourself go against the seat back and look at her.

"Your new teammate… Does she only knows you?"

"No, why?" asks Ona frowning lightly.

She seems to have trouble making the connection between your mood and your question and it adds a little guilt to the jealousy and discomfort you feel.

"She hasn’t left you all day, so I was wondering"

You shrug and look outside your window. The sun was shinning today, blessing you with late good weather.

"We play together for Spain, it may reassure her to be with someone who speaks Spanish"

You just hums without stoping to look at the landscape. You don’t believe it for a second. Despite her behavior with Ona, she seemed rather comfortable with others.

"Well, next time you’ll tell her to keep her hands in her pockets" you mumble as the car stops at a fire.

"What are you talking about?"

Again, Ona’s surprise is completely sincere. You know she probably didn’t realize that the physical touches of "The Leech" were invasive, both being Spanish there’s probably nothing to surprise Ona. But you, you saw that the intentions were other than friendly.

"She won't stop touching you"

Ona’s incredulous little laugh makes you shift your attention to her and frown. The car restarted, but you didn’t really notice it, focused on the face of the Latina.

"Are you making fun of me?"

"Of course not, but you just imagine things. There is nothing but friendship between her and me"

"For you maybe, not for her. Leah must have pulled out the mop to wipe the drool she left on the floor from looking at you"

"You talk nonsense"

You let out a sarcastic snort and cross your arms on your chest before looking out again. So not only are you not believed for a second, but also not especially reassured by Ona who must take you for a fool.

"Yeah, sure." you mumble, clenching your claw.

No screams were exchanged between the two, but the icy silence that reigns in the car for the rest of the trip testifies to the tension born between you two. And still, you didn’t mention everything you felt. No need to pass for crazier than that.

Arriving at Ona’s apartment, you take refuge in her bedroom. No other words were spoken and this will be the case for the rest of the day. Ona stayed in the living room and turned the TV on, it seems to you on the sports channel. You don’t know what else she’s doing, but there’s no way you’re taking the first step.

After dark, you realize Ona is probably thinking the same thing. You hesitate a few seconds between two possibilities but you end up opting for a shower. You could have gone home too, but the fear of Ona not reacting to your departure is too present. Coward? Most certainly.

The hot water allows you to relax a little and you may stay there a little longer than usual, but you needed it. After your routine after shower, you decide to go to bed. The sound of the TV still rings in the living room and you don’t even know if Ona saw you go from her bathroom to her bedroom in pajamas.

You roll yourself in a ball under the sheets of your girlfriend, slightly reassured by her smell that is everywhere. Lost in your thoughts, you lose a little sense of time. Some time later, Ona gently opens the bedroom door, also showered and dressed for the night. And, still without a word, she slips under the sheets, next to you.

You feel your heart getting heavy, you and Ona never went to bed angry. The times you’ve had an argument can be count on the fingers of one hand since the beginning of your relationship and it has never been so deep.

You let time pass again, your eyes fixed on the wall facing you. Ona doesn't move next to you and you finally realize that she must have fallen asleep. A few more minutes pass before you decide to get up. Gently pushing away the sheet, you leave the room and quietly close the door of the room behind you. You find refuge on the balcony, sitting on one of the chairs you used to occupy when you both remake the world while looking at the stars.

Except that today you feel lonely and your nightwear doesn’t keep you warm. You soon find yourself shivering, but you decide not to worry about it at the moment. This argument broke your heart and before you realize it, warm tears roll down your cheeks. Crying make you feel better, you feel like the steel hand around your heart is loosening a little.

To keep some body heat, you stick your legs to your chest and put your arms around them. Your chin rests on your knees and you get lost in the observation of street lamps and the noise of Manchester night traffic.

Your tears had stopped when you feel a blanket resting on your shoulders, but your eyes are red and swollen. You didn't hear Ona’s hesitant steps coming looking for you, she was far from sleeping too. You turn slightly and for the first time in (too) many hours, you cross the chocolate look of your girlfriend.

Ona’s uncertain gaze becomes tinged with guilt when she realizes that you cried, but that’s not what you want either. So you return to your starting position, enjoying the comforting warmth of the plaid.

"Come in, you’ll catch cold" whispers Ona.

Not trusting your voice, you shake your head negatively to refuse her proposal. She sigh softly and sit on the chair next to you. Without saying a word, you give her a piece of the blanket. You may be angry, but that doesn’t mean you want her to get sick.

She accepts it and wraps herself in it with you, turning towards the street too. A few minutes pass, but without the unbearable tension that existed in the car earlier.

"I shouldn’t have told you you were talking nonsense"

Ona’s voice finally breaks the silence and you turn mechanically in her direction. You don’t know if she cried, either, but she looks tired and sad. She turns her attention to you too and you simply nod.

"I’m sorry Y/N"

How can you resist her? You know she is and that it isn't her fault. Taking a big breath, you let yourself go against her, laying your head on her shoulder. You close your eyes in relief as you feel her arm slide around your waist. Reconciliation seems to be on its way.

"I wasn’t accusing you of anything."

Your voice is on the same tone as that of Ona, a slight murmur. You obviously had time to reflect on the conversation you had and the events of the day, since the time you returned. So precision seems important to you.

"I know you don’t think badly for a second and I trust you. But even in hindsight, I’m pretty sure she’s crazy about you. And I can’t stand the idea."

Ona remains silent for a few moments, stroking your hip. You look up at her to observe her, understanding in her gaze that she is reflecting.

"I’ll talk to her, okay?"

You nod softly, looking back over the balcony gate. A few more seconds pass before you feel Ona move and she gently raises your face in her direction, two fingers under your chin. Her look is soft, tender. The one that make you melts, like vanilla ice cream in the Spanish's sun.

"I love you. I will always do everything to make you feel the best with me. I’m really sorry that I didn’t listen to you earlier and that I got so worked up. It just seems so implausible to me that I might be interested in someone other than you… I only see you."

You smile while your heart is flying somewhere near your throat.

"I love you too. More than anything."

She smiles back and with her fingers under you chin, she approach your face next to hers. After caressing your lips with hers, she offers you the most sweat and loving kiss ever.

First Separation

It was on one of the birthdays of one of Ona’s teammates that you heard the news. It’s been several days that your girlfriend's thoughts seems elsewhere and busy, you asked her some questions but she answered each time that she preferred to talk about it later. You accepted this answer, while making sure that everything was fine and that it didn't affect in any case the feelings she could have for you. Even if it was reassuring, you can’t help but wonder what’s going on. You may have a little idea, but you’d rather not get your head screwed for nothing.

During this evening Ona's mind seems to you once again elsewhere. She was smiling while listening to others speak, without speaking. Her behavior drives you to be extremely clingy with her, but the Latina doesn’t seem to be bothered by that. You didn't expect to find her place on the sofa empty after a short time in the kitchen to reserve you a drink.

Caught in a Mario Kart game, the others don't seem to have noticed her absence. This allows you to go looking for her quietly and it's finally on the balcony that you find her. Leaning against the embankment with both hands, looking at the city. You hesitate to join her, not wishing to disturb her, but you end up delicately closing the door behind you to go towards her. Gently putting a hand in her back, you put yourself at her height after having laid a kiss on her cheek.

"I really like this city" made Ona thoughtfully without leaving it with her eyes.

You leave her face you were watching with attention to look at your turn the city. This is where you grew up, so you’re used to her figure. You let it go for a few seconds, before asking her timidly, without having the courage to look at her.

"Are you ready to talk to me about what’s been bothering you these days?"

Ona sighs softly and you see her move a little, turning her silhouette in your direction. On your side, you let your eyes slide on the headlights of the cars on the main road, a few hundred meters from you. Her hesitation makes you realize that what you’re thinking is probably what’s going on. And that terrifies you.

"You’re leaving" you end up whispering, still without looking at her.

"I have to go home"

You knew that Ona’s contract with Manchester was coming to an end and that Barcelona finally realized the potential of your girlfriend. But you preferred to bury your head in the sand and hope that time stops. You know perfectly well Ona’s desire to return home, to go back to her country, her family and the team she carries in her heart. She never hid it from you.

"Barcelona made you an offer?"

Your voice is always whispered, the knot in your throat prevents you from speaking properly.

"They’re offering me a contract until 2026. I’ve already accepted. I’m sorry."

What’s the answer to that? Nothing, obviously. So you remain silent, fighting against the sadness that invades your body a little stronger with each second passing. The silence stretches and it is finally Ona who takes the floor.

"Can you say something por favor?"

"What do you want me to tell you, Ona? I am extremely proud of you and happy that your dreams come true. You deserve it, sincerely. But I’m gonna miss you so much."

"I’ll miss you too"

Her hand which she places on yours makes you turn your gaze in her direction and you stick to her, seeking a source of comfort to this announcement. She gladly pass her arm around you, keeping you close to her.

"I’m leaving Manchester, but I’m not leaving you. I’m sure we can make it work. I’ll come see you whenever I have free time and you can come whenever you want."

You stay silent for a little time, but maybe too much for Ona who turn your face in her direction. She looks stress and a little sad, too. You know that it wasn't an easy move for her to make.

"Hermosa please talk to me. I have to know what you're thinking or I'll go crazy"

"What if you find someone else?"

As always, your fear to lose her is the biggest. You never claimed to consider her yours, knowing perfectly well that love isn't commanded. So you don't feel safe from losing ither one day and this geographical distance will probably not help this fear.

You see Ona leaning her head to the side, a slight air of annoyance displayed on her face. You have already had this conversation several times and she has always found the right words to reassure you. But there, a new parameter is added to the equation. So you try to explain yourself.

"You will be far from me, there are probably thousands of women who would like to be in my place and there are probably as many who have more in common with you than me. Starting with your native language and where you will live."

Gently taking your face in her hands, Ona looks into your eyes. You have always found her eyes particularly expressive and you sometimes still have as much difficulty to support her gaze. But this time you strive to do it, feeling that you need to impregnate yourself with the words she will say.

"I don’t care Y/N. I love you and I only want you. Before, now and after. Nothing or no one will change that in anyway."

First Homecoming

Ona seemed happier than never since she's in Barcelona. You can see it on the picture in FC Barcelona's Instagram, her smile shinning like the Spanish sun. You know that she miss you though, jumping in an plane every time she can to come back to you. You made the journey to Barcelona twice too, but it's not enough for both of you. Every time you have to say goodbye break your heart a little more.

Ona’s old teammates stayed in touch with you, much to your surprise. Not all of them, but you often meet Ella or Millie for coffee during the week. You know that the first of the two is as lost as you have since her best friend left for Arsenal.

"You should go find her" Ella once made you, over her hot tea.

"I can’t this weekend, I have copies to correct for Monday and an exam to prepare" you sighed softly.

You're working as a literature teacher for teenagers. It’s not always easy, but you have the vague hope of getting a few of them interested, fighting as hard as you can against TikTok. (While watching edits from your girlfriend on the same app, but it's another story.)

"I know. What I’m saying is that you should go find her, for good. Moving to Barcelona."

Your movements stop and you look at the other girl as if the ears of Martians had just pushed on her head. Obviously, you thought about it. But Ona never mention it.

"I’m not sure Ona wants me there. She didn’t offer to follow her when she told me she was leaving."

"Because she knows your whole life is here. Your family, your job… It cost her a lot to leave Barcelona for Manchester and she didn’t want to impose that choice on you."

"How do you even know that?" you asked, frowning.

"She told me. You both are as stupide as the other."

Oh. That’s news would probably have changed a lot if you had the courage to ask Ona directly. Again, fearing a negative answer from her, you preferred bury your head in the sand. Smiling as you saw your brain start up again, Ella had left you to your thoughts.

It only took you two days to make your decision, return the keys to your apartment and resign. When you told Ella, she cheered the same way she did when she scored, promising to save the surprise for Ona.

*********

Now that you’re in Ona’s apartment, you’re wondering if this was really a good idea. The Spanish girl doesn’t know you’re here, gone to training as usual. You had the help of Ona's mother to enter, the Batlle happier than ever to learn that you were coming in Spain.

You know Ona’s apartment for having come here twice already, but you go through it, looking for some changes while waiting for her return. The Spanish architecture is very different from the one you have always known in England, but the light colors and brightness offered by the sun is not unpleasant. And the fact that the perfume of your girlfriend floats everywhere in the air is particularly great.

You enter the last room not yet fully furnished, which Ona had thought of turning into a guest room. It's also where she stored the things she wants to get rid of or what she has not yet had the courage to go down to her cellar. You smile while looking at her old trophies, promising yourself to get her to put them somewhere on a shelf in the bedroom.

"¿Quién está ahí?" ("Who's there?")

You hear Ona’s voice, startling you violently. You drop your phone which makes an atrocious noise when falling on the light wooden floor. You hurry to pick it up and get out of the room, having noticed a hint of anxiety in the brunette's question. Well, arriving home realizing that someone else is there when you live alone can cause concern.

"It’s me"

Your answer is simple and Ona may have seen you before you spoke, but you blame yourself for scaring her. That said, seeing Ona looking at you wide-eyed, her training bag still attached to the shoulder is worth it.

"Y/N?"

"It’s not Hermosa anymore?" you ask without hiding your amusement.

It takes a few more seconds for Ona to realize that she’s not dreaming, but after the thud her bag makes when she drops it, the next thing you know is that you finally find the warmth of her arms. Her hair are still wet from the shower she took at the end of her training, but that doesn't prevent you from plunging your face into the hollow of her neck to breathe in her smell.

You feel your feet leave the ground when she squeezes you even harder against her, despite the fact that you are the higher of the two. But it makes you laugh and take your face off her neck so you can look at her. Her eyes are sparkling and her smile is bigger than ever.

Some kisses exchanged later, your feet find the ground, without taking your arms off from her. It’s not exactly like she’s in a hurry to release you either.

"What are you doing here? I thought you couldn’t come this weekend?"

"No, I couldn't" you answer with a shrug and a smile.

Ona’s frown and you can not resist the urge to put your lips between her eyebrows to deride her. Taking you by the hand, she takes you to the living room and to the sofa.

"I don’t understand. Were you able to free yourself?"

You gently bite your lip looking at her, thinking about the best way to tell her what you did.

"I quit" you finally confess.

"What? But why?"

"I also gave my apartment back…"

Well, your apartment. Ona came to live with you after a year of relationship and she spent a lot of time there too.

"… and I thought maybe it would be better to find a job and an apartment elsewhere. For example in Barcelona?"

Ona looks stunned and blinks several times, as if to put her ideas back in place. Her silence makes you stress and you hurry to add

"If you don't want me here I can always take an apartment not too far from yours, I will understand, you have already installed everything as you wanted. And in addition I -"

"Stop rumbling" says Ona, putting a hand on your mouth to shut you up. "You’re telling me you dropped everything you had in Manchester to come here?"

"To come to you" you answer, your voice muffling by her hand, before she remove it. "I realize that Manchester isn't home anymore. Because you're not here. Home is where you are."

It takes some seconds to Ona to digest the information and you didn't leave her face with your eyes. When it clicked and maybe she realize at last that you're not joking or this is real life, she mumble how much she loves you before kissing you so hard that you lose your balance and fell on your back on the couch.

Some hours later, you were both fully naked in her (your?) bed, cuddling. You were half-laying on here while she plays with your fingers.

"Where are all your stuff?" Ona asked

"I take some of the things I need first in my wallets, but the other will come after. I had to send them with DPD or something."

Ona hums, kissing your fingers one by one, making you smile. You are convinced that you will never be tired of her or the sensations she gives you. It’s been three years, and you haven’t once seen a decrease in the strength of your feelings. Quite the contrary.

"Do I have to look for an apartment though?" you smile.

"No way" Ona frowns, even if she knows you're joking. "You made me feel home when I was in Manchester. I will make you feel home here, don't you dare going somewhere else."

"Your accent is heavier than when you left" you smile again, making her roll her eyes.

"I only speak English with Keira and Lucy here. Even Ingrid asked me to talk to her in Spanish even if she answer in English."

"Well that's hot."

"Answering in English?"

"No" you laugh. "I always find it hot when you speak Spanish"

Your girlfriend smirk at you, drawing you against her so she can kiss your lips, before quickly stop it.

"Wait. When I speak Spanish or when people speak Spanish? 'Cause if it’s hearing Spanish that’s doing something to you, we’re gonna have a serious problem"

"Only you" you laugh, getting back to your kiss.

[imagionationstation]

More- more gender swap Donnie? Please? Pretty please?

(No pressure)

OKAYOKAYOKAY- SO GET THIS!

There are a lot of things that stay very, very similar to canon, but obviously some things HAVE to change to make room for big adjustments like lack of love triangles, SO I was debating a couple of episodes and how they could be altered or fixed and literally rewrote an entire episode and OOPS MY HANDS SLIPPED AND NOW I’M SHARING BC YOU ASKED NO TAKE-BACKSIES!

Baxter’s gambit: Happens exactly the same except Fishface keeps doing those weird, uncomfortable, cringe flirty comments at Donnie and at one point he gets too far into her comfort zone and Raph punches his face straight into the ground and threatens to gut him if he ever tries that again ‘cause SHE’S A TEEN DUDE BACK OFF.

Then they bond, and he reminds him of the threat, but nicer.

Needless to say, Fishface leaves Donnie alone.

Slash And Destroy: After Spike is almost blown up, Raph wants Donnie punished, but it was an honest accident, and Splinter only warns her to keep her lab door shut. In a fit of frustration, Raph nabs the mutagen and shouts that “she only gets away with stuff because she’s a GIRL!” and then slams his door to lock himself away. When Slash is bragging later, he reminds Raph of what he said while enraged and insists that he “gave her what they both knew she always deserved” and also implies that Leo’s next.

This scene haunts Raph when Donnie opens up about her insecurities down the line and he realizes that he’s partly to blame.

Showdown: Shredder tries to get under his skin by challenging the false fact that Splinter ‘replaced’ Miwa and with a shelled freak, no less. He taunts him by threatening to kill Donnie, asking if he’d get over her just as easily. Splinter hisses that he loves both his daughters, dead or alive, and the fight leads to Karai’s reveal.

The Pulverizer: The brothers ditch Timothy with Donnie and she makes a halfhearted comment under her breath about stereotypes and “women getting left with the children” as Timothy destroys several beakers in the background and she resigns to her fate.

The Invasion, Part 1: During the argument over whether to use the bot, Donnie accuses Leo of not trusting her because “she’s a girl” and Leo insists that’s not why. When she demands an explanation, all he says is that he’s “the leader.” She’s visibly dissatisfied.

The Invasion, Part 2: While April wraps her arm, Donnie admits that she thinks Leo only separated from them because she was the one who got shot. That if she had been paying attention, or if she hadn’t picked a fight, it would never have happened. She asks if April thinks that it’s her fault that he’s out there alone. Before April can answer, a tremor shakes their building and Kirby freaks out.

A Foot Too Big Disclaimer: ERASE EVERYTHING YOU KNOW.

A Foot To Big is actually about Donnie being unnecessarily nice to Leo and Leo being too distracted by his own issues to really notice. Donnie gets distressed and confides in Mikey that he must be “really mad at her” and doesn’t listen when he’s skeptical. Raph tells Donnie that she needs to give him space, does the “you know what you need? Huh? You know what you need?” bit and then drags them outside. Leo’s already out there and Donnie’s too distracted looking his way to fight well. Raph sends him and Mikey out into the forest to put some distance between the two.

There, they run into a Big Foot. Donnie notices that she’s injured so they bring her home. She’s ecstatic to meet another female mutant that’s essentially a historical endangered species. There’s no weird love thing- only Donnie being her obsessive self and diving head-first into studying Big Foot. Leo notices that change from doting to basically pretending he doesn’t exist, and mentions it to Raph. Raph tells Donnie that maybe she should talk to Leo, and she fires back that it was his advice to give Leo space. Raph argues that he didn’t mean ignore him altogether, but Donnie doesn’t listen. They get into a shouting match that ends with Donnie spotting Leo walk out of the house and her quickly stomping off into the forest.

Later, Donnie’s sulking in the shadows when Leo finds her. Or, he reveals, Big Foot led him to her, hinting that she knows the forest really well. Donnie fires at comment about ‘betrayals’ and Leo sits down next to her, meaningfully saying that he’s grateful Big Foot did. Leo tries to get Donnie to open up, but she keeps denying that anything is wrong, more and more tense as he insists that she’s been acting strange ever since he woke up.

There’s a cliche “wait, I hear something” “what?” “shhh” “you’re just trying to shut me up” moment before they hear a shout.

They move to Big Foot’s aid, only to get knocked out themselves. Upon waking up, they realize what situation they’re in and Donnie gets an idea. She pleads with Leo to follow her lead and he does without missing a beat. They escape and fight The Finger, The Finger and Big Foot have their… moment, and then Leo and Donnie exchange baffled shrugs as they leave.

The last scene has Donnie supporting Leo on their way back to the farmhouse. Leo stops her on the porch and leads her into sitting down on the stairs with him. Donnie’s anger has clearly left her by then, and she hunches in on herself as he reveals that he knows that Raph and her were arguing about him. He pleads with her to tell him what’s wrong, and eventually she breaks.

Donnie pours out all the guilt that was eating away at her- how she didn’t listen and he ended up in a coma for three months, and how she knows he has every right to hate her but she’s sorry and going to try her hardest to make it up to him- only interrupted when Leo drops his crutch and pulls her into a tight hug. She shrivels in it, burying her face in his shoulder, and he assures her that nothing was her fault. He was being just as stubborn as she was. They could have found a compromise. None of his choices were hers to bear, and if he had to choose between protecting her or himself, he’d choose her a million times over. And not just her, all of his little siblings. He ends it with a light tease of “sorry, Donnie, you’re really not that special.”

He earns a shaky laugh that makes him smile. They separate and Donnie says that she’s going to do her best not to question him in the future, and he scolds her, saying that she better not let him make dumb plans just because she feels guilty. They poke fun at one another until the tension clears, and then Leo shivers, and Donnie frantically insists that he shouldn’t be out in the cool night air.

Her amused older brother lets her lead him inside and the episode ends with her shouting for someone to grab a blanket and to start up the fire, and then a black-and-white image of the farmhouse door.

YEAH YOU BET I JUST DID THAT

The Creeping Doom: Instead of chasing Icecream Kitty across the floor, they manage to calm Donnie down by letting her play with April’s hair. It ends up being a tangled mess of bows and hair clippings that April takes out on the way to the lab to check on Mikey, but she waits ‘till Donnie gets distracted, since it’s visibly clear that she both enjoyed herself and was proud of her ‘creation’.

The Power Inside of Her: When Donnie says that she’s okay after everything, Leo interrupts to say that she’s not. When Donnie stiffens, her older brother is quick to reassure her that if any of them were in her place, they would be far from okay.

After April thinks that “at least some good came out of this,” the scene transitions to just the turtles watching tv. Donnie says that she’s sore and headed to bed, but her brothers all visibly panic. Mikey’s the one to say that maybe they “should just hang out a bit longer?” and Raph insists that they should for Mikey’s sake since “he’d just wake them up later,” implying that he commonly wakes them when he has nightmares. Leo asks Donnie to “humor them” and Donnie gives in, lightly teasing her big, bad brothers as they scoff and crowd her, but overall looking immensely relieved.

I HAVE FIVE HUNDRED BUBBLING THOUGHTS, BUT ALSO THINGS TO DO, THE STRUGGLE! GAH!

THANK YOU SM FOR THIS ASK!

[autumnteawithfriends]

One thing i don't understand about HB and HH is that, Vivziepop said it was inspired by the show Bojack Horseman. And i don't see it at all.

First is that BH adresses that Bojack is a horrible person and we shouldn't root for him, while in HH we should like Alastor,Vox,Angel Dust and Valentino even tho they did somewhat worse thing then Bojack. Alastor and Angel are confirmed to have killed people wgile they were alive, Alastor was also a cannibal and literaly in Hell. I would honnestly prefered if it was like Bojack Horseman, that even thecreators know their characters are bad people. But instead these characters are codled like little babies on their mothers lap.

Second is deffinitly the clear misoginy Viv shows through her shows. Female chracters in BjH are complex characters who don't have to be a man's armpiece, unlike in HB and HH. PC and Diane Nguyen are one my favorite female chracters in cartoon media and love their stories throughout the show. I unfortunetly can't say the same in HH and HB. Female characters are, for what i saw, reduced to 3 categories: bitch,normal/nice wife and chaotic. And nothing else. One of the best examples of these is Stella(Stola's ex-wife and Via's mom) for what i seen she mostly had the same childhood as Stolas, or even worse. Only seen for her ability to give birth to an heir and be a wife and the show hates her for that? She must have been under alot pressure to give birth to an heir, Octavia. I honnestly somewhat preffered Stella over that crybaby Stolas.

And even Vivziepop said she loved Bojack Horseman, but i can bet on all the money i have that she hates PC and Diane for trying to distance themselfs from Bojack and that she was on Bojack's side all the time.

Anyways these my thoughs only and you can tell me yours if you want to

Thanks for the ask!

Okay, something I’ll admit is that I’ve never fully watched Bojack Horseman, I’ve only seen some specific scenes on YouTube. But something I can say with full confidence is that Viv claiming her shows are on the same level as Bojack Horseman is fucking ridiculous

First of all, she can’t say her shows are in the same level as Bojack when she refuses to do serious shit that even kids cartoons do. Such as having morally grey characters, not having a black and white morality, actually giving your characters development and consequences, it’s basically a laundry list.

Yeah, Stella would’ve been an infinitely better character to feel sympathy for if Viv actually gave a shit about her female characters + didn’t try her damndest to make us feel bad for Stolas. Like, how the fuck did Viv not expect some people to actually feel sympathy for her compared to Stolas considering her backstory? Stolas is a classist, racist, monarch who enacts Quid Pro Qud on Blitz yet we’re supposed to feel sympathy for him. Yet when people for sympathy for Stella, someone who’s only really a violent person with intense anger issues at her worst (which is 100% justified to me considering her backstory) suddenly people who feel bad for her are abuser apologists (which is false)

Like, you cannot say your shows are on the same level as Bojack Horseman if you refuse to focus on any of your female characters, refuse to give ACTUAL consequences that stick, and try to make us feel bad for arguably the most vile character in the show (Stolas) without doing anything to justify it. There’s so much more I could mention but you get the point.

Thanks for the ask again, apologies that I couldn’t really cover your points about Diane and PC (Also I realize that this is more about HB then HH, but the points still count)

[brooklyncircus]

"Until you..." part. 12.

Hiromi Higuruma x reader.

Until you came along, Hiromi Higuruma didn’t usually enjoy travelling with people he knew, because, among other things, it often forced him into conversations.

But now, sitting next to you on the train, he realised that he could enjoy moments like these. Being a part of something, even if it was just a simple chat. A silent walk under the rain, sharing the shelter of an umbrella...

Because it was with you.

Raindrops splashed against the train windows as it sped along the tracks, making a faint noise that neither of you seemed to notice amidst your conversation. The sky was dark, with flashes of lightning visible now and then, followed by rumbles of thunder.

But Hiromi paid no mind to the storm outside, the rain, or the sounds it made as it struck the roof and sides of the train. Instead, he was absorbed in every little thing you said, the way your hands moved as you spoke, or the expressions you made to emphasise your words – something he found endearing.

Above all, he noticed how your eyes lit up when you responded to his questions, which often managed to hit on something meaningful to you. Unfortunately for Hiromi, your answers were often brief, so he found himself compelled to keep asking subtle yet thoughtful questions, hoping you’d elaborate and share a bit more of your perspective...

Your world.

Yet, at the same time, he wrestled with the fear and anxiety of coming across as overly curious, or worse – intrusive. It was as if one part of him wanted to ask you a hundred questions, while the other was terrified of making a poor impression.

To his momentary relief, it seemed that you were grappling with a similar inner conflict. He could tell by the way your eyes occasionally drifted from his, or how you played with your hair or clothes, or twisted your fingers slightly.

“She’s nervous. Am I making her uncomfortable? Should I... stop asking her questions? Just let her speak if she wants to? Should I stop looking at her so much, sit back a bit?” Hiromi wondered, a faint crease appearing between his brows, almost imperceptible. “Or should I...?”

And, as though you had a radar for his thoughts or the subtle shift in his mood, you tilted your head, looking at him intently. You even seemed a little concerned. “Hiromi… Are you alright?”

The tiny crease between his brows – invisible to most people – wasn’t to you.

“Oh no. I must have asked too many questions, right?” your eyes seemed to say when Hiromi looked at you. Realising this, he felt a pang of guilt squeeze his chest for a moment.

He swallowed and shook his head quickly, slightly anxious. “No, no. Don’t worry, I’m fine,” he said, looking out the window, as if searching for an excuse not to admit that his nerves, caused by you, had made him lose track of reality for a moment. “It must be the weather; it distracted me for a second. Sorry, what were you saying?”

But Hiromi’s answer didn’t seem to convince you at all. In fact, it left you with even more questions. Not wanting to put any more pressure on him, you decided to let it go. “Oh, no. It wasn’t much. It was just a question about whether you worked at the same firm as Prosecutor Forger. I found it interesting since you two seem like friends.”

Hiromi sighed. Honestly, he hadn’t expected to have to talk about the insufferable Forger, but he had to give you credit – it was a good question. Taking a moment to gather himself, he adjusted his tie and glanced out the window for a second. “We work together, yes. And anyone would say we’re ‘friends.’ Right.”

“You don’t sound convinced,” you noted with a slight smile. “Why’s that?”

Hiromi tilted his head and let out a small chuckle. He looked at his hands, frowning slightly, then looked up at you. “Because I didn’t see it coming at all. We were roommates in university and sat next to each other in classes...” he paused briefly. “I thought Forger would join the firm his parents had told him was the ‘best suited’ for him...”

Hiromi gazed at the blurred horizon through the window, watching as the rain obscured his view of the city’s beauty. You noticed right away; he must have been recalling that exact moment. “And what happened then? Did you find him standing at the entrance of the same firm you’d chosen?”

Hiromi tilted his head and looked at you, pulling a slight face. “Embarrassingly, that’s exactly how it happened, as you put it.”

You laughed, and he felt his heart warm up with a sensation that reminded him of summer. “I’m not joking,” he said, smiling slightly.

After a while of silence, Hiromi realised he was approaching the station where he needed to get off, but he lacked the strength or the desire to move.

He placed a hand on the seat in front of him and took a deep breath. Even you shifted in your seat, feeling conflicted, as though neither of you was ready to say goodbye.

“Y/N...” Hiromi said your name softly, realising it was the first time he’d ever done so. It tasted like honey, or like a brand-new symphony he could repeat endlessly without growing tired.

“Yes...?” you replied, a blush – now familiar to him – colouring your cheeks, as if you were surprised and a little flustered by him saying your name.

“Will I see you again tomorrow?” The question slipped out of his mouth unthinkingly, as though it had come straight from his heart. And it was racing so quickly that he found it strange it hadn’t burst, as he awaited your reply.

“Yes, you’ll see me tomorrow… I promise.”

‘I promise.’

Those simple words... left him stunned for a moment, making him miss his stop once again. He stood up, grabbed his briefcase, his gaze fixed on yours.

He smiled a little. “Then, tomorrow’s conversation will revolve around you, alright?”

Your cheeks turned from pink to a deep red. “Alright. But I should warn you, it’s quite a long story...”

Hiromi let out a small laugh, relieved. Happy. Excited. He ran a hand through his hair and gave you a genuine smile as he said goodbye.

“Don’t worry, I have all the time in the world when it comes to you.”

And, until you came along, Hiromi Higuruma didn’t usually enjoy travelling with people he knew, because, among other things, it often forced him into conversations.

But now, sitting next to you on the train, he realised that he could enjoy moments like these. Being a part of something, even if it was just a simple chat. A silent walk under the rain, sharing the shelter of an umbrella...

Because it was with you.

guys i scream writing this, i'm not kidding. i hope you love it <3.

[rynnthefangirl]

Alicent could do this, Aegon could do that - maybe Rhaenyra could not give birth to bastards? If everything is so simple and people can JUST do it "the right way." And who is the monster - Aegon?Practically the most innocent male character in the show at the moment? Who is to blame for leading the standard life of a Medieval prince? That's...interesting. And yes, Rhaenyra herself says that she must execute Aegon, she HERSELF admits that while he is alive, her rule is in danger. She would have done the same if he had knelt himself. This is politics.

I’ll go ahead and answer this ask, but to be very clear, this is a heavily pro TB, anti TG, pro Rhaenyra blog. I’m here because it’s fun to sound out my opinions and thoughts, and I’m not not interested in prolonged debates with TG stans (specifically if this is the same person who sent me the previous ask on this topic). You won’t change my mind, I won’t change yours.

Key difference is that while having bastards was a very reckless thing for Rhaenyra to do, it was not an act of war. Usurping the throne IS an act of war. Unless you assassinate all other possible claimants, it can be safe to say that usurping = war. Having bastards was a contributing factor— usurping was the direct immediate cause. The Greens were well aware of this. They were banking on the hope that Rhaenyra would not be able to gather enough support, and the war would never progress past the Cold War stage, to end quickly with her surrender. They were wrong, and they should have known they were wrong given Rhaenyra’s dragon power and the importance of oaths in westerosi society. Aegon willingly and knowingly participated in an act that directly declared war on his sister.

As for Rhaenyra needing to execute Aegon — yes, after he has usurped her throne, murdered her son, sacked and slaughtered her allies, killed Princess Rhaenys, and for this entire time persisted in calling himself king… it is too late to back out. While many of these were not Aegon’s doing, as the King he is ultimately responsible for the actions of those under his authority. That is the downside of being king— you are given ultimate power, but also ultimate responsibility. He is the face of Team Green in the eyes of the entire Realm, and to keep the respect of the realm, Rhaenyra must punish the usurper.

However, had he come to her before there was bloodshed, after his coronation, he would have been offered mercy. In the book Rhaenyra acknowledges that he is being influenced by the Green lords and offers him to change paths and save himself; and show Rhaenyra is wayyy less ruthless and vengeful than book Rhaenyra. (Even after Luke’s death, Aegon could probably have made peace so long as he gave up Aemond.) A younger brother, pressured into accepting a throne by ruthless grasping lords, who gives up his crown and swears fealty to the rightful queen at first opportunity? That is a person Rhaenyra can offer mercy too without showing weakness. A usurper king who has murdered her lords and her people, killed her son, and persisted in calling himself king for months? No longer an option.

[scentednuttragedy]

Meow

Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

Slightly NSFW but no smut

"You could have called out for me, you know?" Leon said in annoyance as he accidentally put too much pressure on your wound, and you whimpered in response. 

"Things can't always go well... you should know that better than anyone else", You taunted him as you put salt on his wounds. You reminded him of the event that took place a few years ago: you, Him, Claire, Sherry and Ada.

All he did was sigh in response. He didn't want to remember all the memories. He just wanted to be near you, not drive you away. You saw him sigh in guilt, pain written on his face. Poor Leon must have been in so much agony, so much pain. 

"I'm sorry", you muttered in a low tone but just enough for him to hear it. He smiled as he finished patching your wound on your forearm. 

"It is alright." He smiled, reminding you of the young Leon you met back then. He was so sweet and kind. He was still the same but a little more careful. You didn't want to admit it, but you adored him. You both walked to his car, ready to get to your respective houses, but something was pulling on your heart, and he told you to wait a little longer. 

"Ladies first" He opened the passenger side door for you as he smirked 

"Such a Gentleman" you scoffed jokingly.

There was an eerie silence between you two as you sat.

"Did you have the chip?" He began. He didn't want it to himself; he wanted to let you have it for your mission. He wanted to be on your good side.

You hummed in response as you turned your head to look at him. You smiled, admiring his features. He had grown up, and so were you; both of you are now mature and much more experienced. You'd hate to admit it, but he had also gotten much more handsome, making you want to pounce on- maybe it's the adrenaline making you feel this way. 

"Good...How have you been?" He spoke softly. It was clear he missed you. Leon had forgotten what you both had. He missed the kiss you both shared at the Umbrella facility. He'd be a liar if he were to say he didn't just want to kiss you and not let you go, but he controlled himself after all; he didn't want to drive you away.

"I've been good" You smiled and kept admiring him. 

"Have you had any encounter with Ada yet?" The name that leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. 

You didn't hate her, but you didn't like her either. After all, she was the one helping Wesker all along. She was one of the reasons for many deaths and casualties. 

"No... I haven't." He sighed as he looked out the window. The dim moonlight hitting his features made him look ethereal. He also felt the bitter taste on his tongue as you spoke her name. She was someone that you both knew would haunt you forever. 

"I missed you", He blurted out. He felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment, but it was hard for him to hold it in much longer. The more time you were around him, the more his skin burned to be on yours. He hated this feeling, but he also loved it. 

You tilted your head wide-eyed, and your cheeks heated up as you realised what he had said. You grabbed his collar as you smashed your lips against his, earning a gasp from him. He didn't understand what had happened, but when he did, he kissed you back with the same passion and longing. And desire. God, you tasted so good, and he just wanted more and more from you. He snaked his arms around your waist as he unclasped the seat belt while still kissing you, making it easier to pull you closer to him. 

He bit your lip as you moaned against his lips, and he took this opportunity to slide his tongue inside. His hands went lower to your ass as he lifted you and made you sit on his lap. He paused as he moved back to look at your blissed-out face. Both of you were breathing heavily, wanting more, needing more. How long have you both been apart? If he knew how you'd make him feel, he could have done this right then with you. 

You cursed under your breath, wanting to get more of him. As soon as he heard you swear, a surge of heat spread throughout his body. He knew he might never see you again if he let you go tonight. He wanted to keep you in his life, and you were the one for him. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” He said, unsure if you'll accept. The night was still young, and you knew you wouldn't let him get away so quickly, either. He grinned and started the car, driving you away to a night full of unpacking.

After so long, whew! I did not proofread anything, so I just<3 Can't believe I'm still in love with this man even after a year. I hope y'all like this! Mwah~

[seamayweed]

In Defense of Lady Kang/Queen Sindeok (1/3)

As promised, here's the first part of my defense of Queen Sindeok, explaining her historical political situation + clearing up some common fandom misconceptions about her, which I don't blame anyone for since they originate from the show itself. I must admit that I have a bit of a soft spot for her since history generally tends to be unkind to women - this extends to modern media and MCTNA is no exception:

(more under the cut)

Before we start, I thought I'd give a small refresher on the Yi family constellation - crucial for setting up the conflict and crown prince issue - with the aid of this extremely useful graphic by bodashiri (excluding the daughters for simplicity's sake):

(From here: x)

As you can see, Yi Seong-gye (King Taejo of Joseon) had two wives:

His first wife Lady Han (Queen Sinui) gave birth to six sons: 1. Yi Bang-woo (Prince Jinan), 2. Yi Bang-gwa (Prince Youngan), 3. Yi Bang-ui (Prince Yikan), 4. Yi Bang-gan (Prince Hoean), 5. Yi Bang-won (Prince Jeongan) and 6. Yi Bang-yeon (Prince Deokan).

His second wife Lady Kang (Queen Sindeok) gave birth to two sons: 7. Yi Bang-beon (Prince Muan) and 8. Yi Bang-seok (Prince Uian),

meaning that Seong-gye had eight sons overall.

With that out of the way, let's get started!!!

1. Queen Sindeok was NOT a concubine

(From here: x)

She is referred to as Yi Seong-gye/King Taejo's capital/Seoul wife in the show too:

However, every time Bang-won calls her a concubine and her children illegitimate there is never any pushback or correction by anyone, not even when he calls her younger son Bang-seok/Prince Uian a ‘seoja’ (illegitimate child born to a commoner concubine or royal concubine) in front of Seon-ho:

You'd think Seon-ho would defend Bang-seok by correcting Bang-won... but nope. Nada.

Not even Queen Sindeok (!!!) is allowed to defend herself and her children when they get accused of the same:

Like, what is this madness!!!

Anyone who doesn't know about Korean history would never even SUSPECT that this isn’t actually true, and that Queen Sindeok is in fact a legitimate second wife and queen. By giving no pushback to the (false) claims of illegitimacy, the show seems to implicitly support Bang-won’s narrative of her being a lying, conniving, greedy bitch who wants to push her child on the throne despite having no right to it whatsoever as a concubine and bastard respectively.

Queen Sindeok's tragedy, the one that MCTNA fails to portray, is not that she was a concubine who tried to rise above her station (because she was not); it's that, due to the transition from Goryeo to Joseon, she found herself caught between two conflicting sets of laws:

(From Tombstones without a Tomb by Hildi Kang)

A queen while alive, and unjustly demoted to a concubine in death by Bang-won/King Taejong who used these legal changes and the new Confucian ruling to his advantage, her status was a matter of contention for scholars and kings alike for almost 300 years, until finally, in 1669, the scholar Song Si-yeol managed to amass enough people and put enough pressure on King Hyeonjong to make him give in to their demands and restore Queen Sindeok to her rightful status and honor as queen.

+ Bonus:

(From Tombstones without a Tomb by Hildi Kang)

Turns out that according to the new Confucian ruling, Bang-won himself should have been considered illegitimate too!! Surprise!!!