#don't ask me the color of anything but i'm sure there wasn't even water on the set when this was filmed.

[clairedsfield]

sdl ep. 85

[kamospeach]

plot: ceo!sukuna and the woman he was forced to marry finally learning to get along.

content warning: none at all. it's not 18+ but if i make a fic it will be.

peachy's yap: i wanna make this into a fic but im not 100% sure yet, lmk ! no smut just a small fluff to test out the waters. one last one shot coming until i go on a lil break.

this wasn't what you wanted at all. ever since you were a little girl you planned to get married to a caring man. years later give birth to a love child hold he or she in your arms as you and your loving husband smiled at one another.

that dream was gone now and here you were a year after your wedding. terrified to even knock on the door of his study knowing his temper was off the wall at the moment. when you were cooped up in your hobby room you could hear him barking orders. while you sat in silence writing novel after novel he forbade you to publish.

this was your everyday, wake up alone, eat alone, write alone, shower alone, watch movies alone, and even go to sleep alone. he was in his study night and day until his hefty body slipped into your shared bed waking you at 2am. he didn't bother to apologize he just turned away going to sleep himself. and yet you found yourself wanting to be close to sukuna.

you sighed already knowing the conversation you both were bound to have today... just like every month for the last year. you were given to him for your writing and negotiating skills. his father the previous boss offered to pay your father millions to suspend the contract at your job for you to work for them. all for money. you raised your hand knocing on the wretched door.

you and sukuna moved into this house 6 months ago and it felt like you'd been locked away in a tower. although sukuna never listened to your ideas or let you have your way about anything he left the house details to you. he stood back as you worked with the sketchy architect who purposely looked down your blouse (his words).

he let you pick out the number of rooms, and bathrooms. the ceiling height, the shape of the pool, even how many patio chairs you wanted. he let you decorate the house pick the colors, even would let you throw splashes of pink and purple where ever you pleased. but you never did it, you didn't want to do it if not with sukuna.

but to sukuna none of this mattered because his work was more important. in his words he said 'i'll let you deal with less important matters. at least im positive you won't fuck that up.' did that statement hurt? hell yeah but even then you still wanted to be close to him.

"s...sukuna?" you stuttered waiting to hear his gruff voice.

"get in here." he said sternly and you pushed the heavy doors open, struggling at the weight. once you pushed in you stood by the door hands behind your back fingers laced. "sit." he said pointing to the chair in front of his desk and you scurry not wanting to anger him.

"i'm sorry i didn't come sooner i was writing and i had a idea i couldn't lose." you plead his eyes never left yours. he face expression neither annoyed nor pleased.

"why must you continue writing, when you have a duty to fulfill here." he grumbled and you looked down at your thumbs.

"sukuna you wont let me go with you to negotiate that's all m'good for." you say and he scoffs at your excuse.

"you are here to write contracts and negotiate deals you have not done any of that over the last year!" he said his voice raising, by no means were you a push over. scared of this big, brolic, hunk definitely but one thing you'll never be is a punk.

"you have yet to assign me any work. i know what you'll say 'you should come ask me if there's anything to do' but you are my boss. you instruct i follow, i refuse to do anything for you if you can not request it on your own." your reply was calm, you didn't want to anger him further.

"i don't want to overwhelm you," he sighs. his strict facade dropping as he handed you papers and you hum. looking down at the papers it was full of stats and numbers that made your head spin. "this is everyday work for me, i need your help but i must figure it out alone."

"the numbers are a bit crazy but it's not much to find a way to make a deal that'll pretty up the numbers." you tell him and he nods.

"how?" he asked and you looked up at him. this was the first time sukuna had asked for your help. you were shocked that he even let you know that he needed help.

"i mean your the statistics man. once you work out the numbers we can talk negotiating." you tell him with a smile hoping the sly compliment of him being good with numbers didn't slip past him. his red eyes looked up at you through his thick lashes. the corner of his lips tugging upwards as if he wanted to smile and couldn't.

this day was the first day you sat next to sukuna behind his desk. your knees touched and even that amount of contact was enough for you. you helped him clean up his desk and he didn't object he just said 'make sure you put them where i tell you'. and you did picking up the papers on his desk and organizing them for him. placing them in different stacks based off who and what they were from.

little did you know sukuna admired your every move. he watched how you walked around his office complaining about how dull it was. how your curls bounced with every step you took. he watched you search up paint colors and decor for his office. not once did this distract him, he either hummed in agreement or disagreement as he worked on the numbers.

even days later the connection between sukuna and you began to grow. he listened to your opinions and even stepped out of his office during the day. he came to your writing room to sit and drink coffee with you at 3am when you felt like you had a good idea. he even showed you the room you called the 'junk room' that was quite literally filled with sukuna's junk. he pulled out an electric guitar bragging about how it was signed by one of the best.

he tells you the name as you face scrunches up in confusion never hearing of this man ever. but even your disinterest in that didn't deter his sheer audacity and gall. he called you a degenerate and said you were a bug under a rock. you replied with 'more like a boulder' as you looked him up and down judgingly.

this comment made sukuna laugh, yes actually laugh. from that day you never held in a joke, letting anything on your mind loose. sometimes sukuna would look at you as if you said the stupidest shit on earth. most times he'd shake his head with an endearing smile but 2 times out of 10 he'd laugh.

day after day the more time you spent with sukuna the more you were pulled out of the depression. you watched movies of families with a smile even thinking about having a child with that demon.

in return sukuna became more comfortable approaching you. initially he was scared to anger you or say something that would hurt your feelings. heeding his father's warning 'don't talk to her too much. you know how you are, you'll hurt her feelings.' so he listened avoided starting conversation, leaving the bed before you woke up and coming in after you fell asleep. ate in his office and never ever entered your writing room.

that day you came in and told him he was your boss changed his brain chemistry. his father was wrong, he wouldn't hurt your feelings because you wanted him to act like your boss. you could dish it out and take it. that day was when sukuna thought to himself 'i could really get used to this'.

that's why after a month of the two of finally getting along sukuna instructed you to meet him at the dining table. dining table was a stretch as it only had 2 chairs. as you waited for him assuming it was about work you were shocked for sukuna to slam down your houses floorplan.

"it's about time we made this house into a home don't ya think?" he asked looking at you and you smiled. and the two of you sat there all night you sipping on a shirley temple and he drank whiskey. he promised he'd make you cocktails from now on since you found out he was a bartender for all of 3 months.

you planned and brainstormed until the next morning. you were leaned on the table drool coming out of your mouth. sukuna smiled at how comfortable you had became around him. he lifted you and carried you up the stairs. that was the first day sukuna felt like he was really a husband. that day was when sukuna swore to himself that he would be a husband.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

i had this silly idea that i was gonna write but i trust you with the idea more so i’m pitching this tent here in your inbox for no particular reason (as i will never tell you what to write!!!)

but like.. pretending you got fratboy!jaehyun’s name tattooed and he goes the whole day stressing thinking you permanently inked yourself with his name… until you wash it off at the end of the day 😭 i just thought it was funny :3

oh Sweets stressing Jaehyun out, you will always be famous to me

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

⋆⭒˚.⋆ tell me that's not permanent ⋆⭒˚.⋆

Fratboy!Jaehyun never thought that anything good ever came of you and your roommates going out and drinking. Sure, the drunken calls where you poured your heart out were sweet but damn, the stress that came from these nights was unlike anything he'd ever experienced.

Going into college he never thought he'd have to convince a police officer to not take his girlfriend's roommate to jail. He didn't think there would be a handful of nights where he had to chase you down the street while you left a trail of clothes behind you. He didn't think he'd have to worry about permanent body modifications on someone other than himself, but here he was.

Last night he'd gotten a picture sent to him from Kira. A picture of you sitting in a reclined chair with your arm extended to a heavily tattooed man who held a needle over your arm. When Jaehyun zoomed in, his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. Fuck, that couldn't be his name he was reading on your wrist right?! But who else could 'Jaehy' be?! A very sloppy 'Jaehy' that looked like a 6 year old with a marker scrawled it out.

He'd called you earlier this morning but the call went unanswered. Later in the afternoon he called you again and all he could see was your face surrounded by your blankets while you groaned and croaked about never drinking again. Unfortunately for Jaehyun, he didn't see much more than your face. This would be perfectly fine of course, if he wasn't a nervous mess about you potentially having his name tattooed on your skin.

He'd heard it was kind of like a curse to get your partner's name tattooed on yourself. He didn't want the two of you to break up, he wanted to be with you forever! What if you regretted it? Tattoos were permanent! Didn't anyone try to tell you that last night?!

By the time evening rolled around, Jaehyun had been anxiously awaiting your arrival after the chapter meeting. You waltzed right in, looking far too cute and cozy in one of his hoodies as you greeted the guys on your way to your boyfriend.

Instead of hugging you like he usually did, he grabbed your outstretched arm and rolled your sleeve down. He let out a high pitched yelp, the color from his face draining immediately upon seeing the plastic wrapped letters of his name on your skin.

"No, no, no, no, no," Jaehyun chanted, pacing around the room with his head buried in his hands.

"What? Don't you like it? Now everyone knows I'm yours!" You call out with far too much happiness for the dread he feels.

"Are you still drunk? You do know that tattoos are permanent, right?" Jaehyun asks exasperatedly.

You nod fervently, "yeah, duh. That was the whole point of a tattoo."

"Sweetheart, tell me that's not permanent. I'm begging," he drops to his knees dramatically, "please tell me it's not real. I've been so stressed since Kira texted me last night."

You roll your eyes, helping him to his feet to lead him to the sink in the kitchen. There you take the plastic off your wrist and hold the tattoo under the water. He watches as you drag your finger over the tattoo and the tattoo... smudges?

"It's not- It wasn't real?" He asks, relief evident in his voice.

"Fuck no, Jaehyun. I'm not an idiot. It was liquid eyeliner," you reply with a roll of your eyes as you wash the rest of your 'tattoo' off.

"But the picture?" He asks with furrowed brows.

You laugh, a sound still far too sweet for the stress draining from Jaehyun at the moment, "I asked the guy to pretend to tattoo me."

"What the hell were you doing in a tattoo shop anyway?"

"Ari wanted to get pierced," you shrug casually.

"Pierced?" he asks, "pierced where?"

You freeze, turning your gaze away from him as you stare blankly at the kitchen towel in your hands, "you don't want to know..."

"I think you and your friends are going to be the reason I go bald by 30. Do you want that? Do you want a bald husband?" He asks while cupping your face in his hands.

"Husband?! Let's finish school first at the very least!"

Jaehyun groans, "stress! Woman, you stress me out!"

[lostbookmark]

MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

Game Masterlist here

Summary: After the death of your brother and his wife. You find yourself adjusting to a new role in your life. A single parent to your teenage nephew. How do you help him heal? How do you help yourself heal? You're not sure. You don't think you can, until an annoying basketball coach enters your life and turns everything around.

Pairing: Basketball Coach Yoongi x Single Aunt F. Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, Strangers to Lovers,

Warnings: Death Of Parents / Brother/ Family, Car Accident (Cause), Swearing, Explicit Sex, Arguments, Physical Fighting, Past Abusive Relationship, Talks Of Domestic Violence, Gore (Horror Movie), Smoking, Use Of Word Slut. Grieving

With your tongue poking out of your mouth in concentration, you press the blue painters tape along the ceiling with as much precision as possible. Your mother had agreed to let Nicky paint his room, but of course, she had to have the final say. She quickly vetoed the colors that she didn't like. Dark blues and black were pushed aside as she gave him the options of Serene Green and Pastel Yellow. Needless to say, Serene Green was the winner. It wasn't awful. Nope. In fact, you actually like the color, but it didn't exactly scream that a teenager lived there. You don't think that he cares, though. It was just nice to see his room start to come to life.

“These brushes are nice,” you dad says from the step ladder as he paints a perfect line just under your tape. His hand was completely steady, and he probably didn't even need you to tape off the room. “Where did you get these?”

“Oh, one of your new potential vendors gave me some,” you say casually, causing your parents to give you a look. “What?”

“He just gave them to you?” Your mom asks. “He should have given them to your father or even Elly for that matter.”

“Well, maybe, I might have flirted a little bit with him,” you admit. “But look, it got us some good brushes.”

“Do you think you could flirt for some rollers?” Your dad asks jokingly, making your mom throw a water bottle at him. “I'm kidding. Unless, she really can. The good ones are expensive.”

“You can't do that, Y/N,” your mom scolds. “You need to keep things professional at work. How do you think that makes you look? How that makes you father look?”

“She gets it from you,” your dad cuts in while still painting his perfect line of Serene Green.

“Absolutely not,” she disagrees.

“Should I recount the story of when we first met?” He asks, smiling over his shoulder at her. “I believe it was when I was working for my own father.”

Your mother gives him a look and walks out of the bedroom. You laugh, throwing down your blue tape roll and watch as it rolls across the room. Climbing down your own ladder, you sit on Nicky's bed that was moved to the center of the bedroom. “Don't let her get to you. She means well.”

“I'm not so sure,” you say, watching him as he climbs down and approaches you.

“How are you doing, kiddo? Do you need any money? Food?” He asks, squatting in front of you. “You two aren't going hungry, right?”

“No, things have been good?” You say, giving him a small smile.

“Just give her some time, kiddo,” he says. “Things are hard for everyone. Emotions are really high, but you know that I won't let anything happen. Nicky isn't going anywhere.”

“I know,” you agree.

“Just try to keep some sort of peace between the two of you.” he tells you. “I know you two haven't really ever gotten along over the years, but she loves you. After what happened to you…”

“When will the room be done?” You ask, changing the subject. “I think Chris and Elly are bringing him back in a couple of hours. I would like to have everything done and the room put back together by then.”

“Yeah,” your dad says quietly as he studies you sadly. “We’ll get it done.”

You walk to the opposite side of the room, grabbing a paint roller to distract you. You don't like to talk about your past. If you don't talk about it, then you can almost pretend like it never happened. You watch as the roller spreads the green paint across the wall. Up and down, you drag it over the smooth surface repeatedly, covering any blotchiness that you created.

Up and down.

Up and down, as if everything was perfectly fine.

Up and down.

Up and down.

Nothing was all right.

Up, down and repeat.

Ignore and pretend.

Repeat.

You pick the stubborn green paint from out underneath your fingernails as you sit on the bleachers waiting for practice to start. Nicky, with as much enthusiasm as a teenage boy could muster, he thanked everyone for painting his room when he saw it. That night, you two sat down, ordering him shelves and an entertainment center that he liked. You told him that the choice was his to unpack his things or you could go shopping to decorate his room with brand new things. He asked to think about it. You hope he chooses his things that were boxed up in his closet. Things that once brought him comfort and held happy memories. You don't want him to be scared of those memories. Memories of his mom and dad. Memories that you don’t want him to forget. That was the last thing you wanted.

Giving up on your nails, you yawn. For once, you were one of the first adults in the gym, and it was boring. You'll have to make sure that it never happens again. Resting your elbow on your knee, you place your chin in your hand. You contemplate closing your eyes when the door opens loudly and both coaches walk in. You watch as Coach Min gives you a double take before looking down at his watch. Raising an eyebrow at you, he nods in satisfaction that you were actually there before him. You roll your eyes in response, making him laugh silently. You're so happy that you amused him. At least one of you was amused. All you were was tired.

“We need to decide where to meet for dinner tonight,” Ara speaks up during the middle of practice. “Any suggestions?”

“LUXE EAST,” a mom that you don't care to learn her name suggests. “They have the best wine choices.”

“That's probably too expensive for….some,” Ara says, and you can feel their stares turn to look at you.

“Ara,” Mark says warningly as he makes eye contact with you.

“What? I'm just trying to be thoughtful,” she says innocently. “Maybe we should stick to McDonald's.”

“You can take your fake concern and shove it,” you say, looking over your shoulder at her trying to act unbothered. “I'm not going anywhere with you anyway.”

“You have to,” she smirks. “It's a part of your responsibility as a parent on our team.”

“It's when we decide who's in charge of getting signs made, t-shirts made. You know, things like that,” Mark explains.

Mark was nice. You didn't want to be a bitch to him. Instead, you completely turn away from him and look at the group of women behind you. You wonder if they ever heard the word no before. You doubt it. Their aura screams spoiled. You are sure that they were the type of woman who always got what they wanted.

“I'd rather pull my eyelashes out one by one than go anywhere with you,” you say, standing up and giving her a fake smile. “Go team!”

Walking down the steps of the bleachers, you step onto the floor and head for the door. Well, you attempted to, that is. Coach Min's arm shot out, almost hitting you with his clipboard, stopping your escape.

“Where are you going?” He asks, eyes never leaving the boys on the court.

“Bathroom. Is that alright with you?” You ask, sarcastically. “Do I need a hall pass?”

He doesn't answer as he drops his arm, letting you pass by. Continuing on, you leave the gym and walk down the hall a little ways until you come to the girls' bathroom. Looking around, you notice frosted windows above a small ledge. You smile, climbing up on the counter, and you hold your breath as you pop the window open. You freeze for a moment, waiting to see if you set an alarm off. Thankfully, there was nothing.

Reaching into your bag, you pull out a singular cigarette and lighter. You haven't smoked in years. You had carried the little cancer stick around as a reminder that you were stronger than the bad habit. You were stronger now than your past self, but every now and then, you doubt yourself and your strength. Even though you don't show it, you have your limits, and right now, you are way past them. Maybe Ara and the others that pushed you into caving in. Maybe it was the conversation with your dad. Maybe you were never strong, like you thought.

Fuck it!

Bringing the cigarette to your lips, you light it, inhaling the disgusting chemicals that burn your lungs as you breathe it in. Turning your head toward the window, you blow out the smoke, trying not to cough. You're disappointed. You're not sure what you were hoping to feel, but the cigarette did not give it to you. Maybe you were hoping for a rush of dopamine. Maybe you were looking for a sense of calm and peace, but you got nothing. You still feel tense. You still feel weighed down. The nightmares will still be there when you close your eyes at night. Everything is exactly the same. Except now, you probably smell like an ashtray.

You don't bother with another puff. Snuffing the cigarette out, you close the window and hope down off the counter. Flushing the evidence, you walk back into the gym like nothing happened.

Sitting further away from the group, you take your earlier position. Elbow on knee, chin in hand, you wait. You wait, like you have been waiting almost every day since Nicky came into your life full time. You need to learn to have patience because waiting felt like torture. Maybe your mom was right all along. Maybe you weren't equipped to handle this type of life. The mom life. You need to change. Unfortunately, you don't know how to change, but you need to figure it out.

Fast.

“What's the temperature you need to store hot food at?” Coach Min throws at you as you remain unmoving, waiting for your nephew as practice ends and everyone filters out of the gym.

“220 degrees,” you answer automatically, looking up at him as he looms over you, looking down at you.

It was a lie. You didn't know the answer, but you sure answered him with as much confidence as you could muster. He stares at you through narrowed eyes, scrutinizing your answer. You are sure he knows that you have yet to look over the paper he gave you on food safety practices.

“You don't know, do you?” He asks, calling your bluff and confirming what you thought.

“If that's wrong, then what's the answer?” You ask back. He chuckles and looks away from you. This time, you were the one to narrow your eyes as you study him. Standing up from your seat, you stare at him with astonishment. “You don't know either,” you accuse, pointing your finger at him.

“Of course I do,” he scoffs, crossing those arms of his. “I've been doing this for years.”

“Then what is it?” You ask, mimicking his stance.

“It's…..in the paper I gave you so you better learn it,” he answers and walks away from you. You shake your head as you watch him walk away and pat Nicky on the back as he passes him.

That motherfu…..chucker!

A/C is not working. Bring extra water.

Damn. The text that came through the team app did not lie. The gym was hot and stuffy as you entered through the double doors. A wall of heat from inside almost stops you in your tracks as it hits you in the face, wanting to tempt you into running your ass back to your car.

It just felt gross.

Nicky waves at you from where he was stretching on the court. You raise the water bottle in your hand in the air, indicating that you bought him an extra one. He points to his belongings sitting on an empty set of bleachers. You nod, walking over. You find his things easily and place his extra water down before joining the parents.

It's gotten easier the last few practices. Coming here almost every day is still just as awful, but keeping your head down and not paying attention to certain people made the time more bearable. It helps that you have been bringing your earbuds to drown out their yapping mouths, but unfortunately, today, you were in too big of a hurry to change. You forgot to grab them. Instead of an audio book or music, you had to listen to the squeaking shoes, whistles, and the yapping of the mothers mouths. Today, you just try to focus on the boys doing…whatever it was that they were doing, but the yappers wouldn't shut up.

“I need a new formal dress,” one of them says. “Hubby and I have dinner with his idiot boss next weekend.”

“At least you're able to get a new one. My husband says I have too many dresses that I don't need another one,” a new voice chimes in. “How ridiculous is that? He can buy a new boat, but I can't have a new dress.”

Dear god, you think as you roll your eyes. You wish those were the only problems you had.

“There's plenty of shops you can go to. Just don't shop where she does,” your shoulders stiffen as you fight the urge to turn around. You just know that the comment was directed at you. “Hey, you.”

“What?” You question, not even bothering to look over your shoulder at them.

“You should go and change,” Ara tells you.

You look down at yourself. You didn’t think the pair of cut-off shorts and a black and white striped tank top that you were wearing would be considered inappropriate. Your ass wasn't hanging out, and your boobs were where they belonged. If she thought this was bad, then she was faint if she saw what else you had in your closet.

“If your son can't keep his eyes to himself, then maybe you should teach him better,” you snap at her as you finally look at her. She, as always, was wearing too much makeup. You hoped that she would sweat it off and look like a drowned rat by the end of practice. “That's your problem, not mine.”

“Well if you didn't dress like a slut to begin with then we wouldn't have a problem,” Ara tells you with a sharp look. Her scowls have become harsher since you refused to go to the meeting with them, but nothing was ever said to you.

“What did you call me,” you demand ever so calmly, fully turning your body around to look at her.

“You heard me,” she smirks as her glossy lips shine under the gym lights.

“Say it again,” you say, standing up, but it only makes her laugh. “FUCKING SAY IT AGAIN BITCH!.”

“WHOA!” Coach Min says, blowing his whistle as he turns swiftly to see what the commotion was. “Get down here now.”

You don't listen as your eyes continue to zero in on Ara, your number one enemy at the moment. You don't plan on backing down. Ara's glossy little smile drops as she studies you when she realizes that you're not backing down. Good. Very good. You haven't fought anyone since high school, but you're sure you still have what it takes to kick her ass.

“Fucking say it again,” you growl, getting closer into her space, making her back up in her seat.

Yup, you still got it.

“Y/N, get down here now,” Coach Min demands, but again, you don't pay him any mind. Footsteps ascend the wooden stairs, and a hand grabs your arm, trying to pull you away. “Now.” You shake him off and follow him down the bleachers. “Three practice suspension,” he tells you as he points to the doors.

“I thought they needed a guardian here at all times,” you say smartly, testing his patience.

“Do you want to make it 6?” He asks, eyes hard as he studies you.

You look over to Nicky, who, like the rest of the boys, was watching the commotion that you were a part of. You shouldn't make such a scene in front of him. Squinting your eyes in a glare, you turn from him to head for the doors. However, before your feet actually were able to take off, you looked back at the smug woman, whose smirk was right back on her face. Staring directly at her, you flip her off with your hand held high for everyone to see.

“Jesus christ,” you hear Coach Min mutter.

Stomping out of the gym, you walk back to your car, slamming your door loudly after you climb in. Swearing at the top of your lungs, you hit the steering wheel with the heel of your hand. You can feel the burning of tears start to well behind your eyes. Rubbing them harshly, you stop them before they fully form. With a deep breath to calm your rapidly beating heart, you lean forward, pressing your forehead against the steering wheel, you exhale. 1….2….3… you slowly count as you focus on the rising of your chest. 4…5…6… Finally, you can feel your heart rate slow.

Your whole life, you were a wild child. Your brothers were steller students, great athletes, and never had detention. You, on the other hand, practically lived there. You never talked back to teachers, but boy, did the other students piss you off. You weren't one to back down when someone was running their mouth about you. Maybe you did it for attention. Your parents were always busy going into your teen years. Supporting you and your siblings plus Nicky and your sister-in-law, it was a lot. They both worked a lot, and their time at home was stretched thin with all the responsibilities in the household.

Unfortunately, you never really grew out of the rebelliousness. You were responsible around Nicky when you were with him, but otherwise, you didn't care. Skipping school, sneaking out, all became routine for you. Your self-esteem wasn't the best and sought attention from the wrong type of men as you grew older. Men, who would frequent the shady little bar you worked at. Who knew all the right things to say to draw in and make you fall in love with them. You fell for it every time, and every time you paid the price.

You were angry. You were angry when they would call you names. They made you feel bad and tore you down. You couldn't fight back. You tried once, and it didn't work out so well. You promised yourself that you would never let anyone make you feel like again. Make you feel insecure, weak. Make you feel like you were always…..wrong. You close your eyes, trying to convince yourself that you did nothing wrong. You shake your head slightly. You didn't do anything. Nope, you didn't do anything wrong. You stood up for yourself like anyone would. You didn't do anything wrong back then, and you didn't do anything wrong now. You hope that if you keep repeating it, you might actually start to believe it.

The car door opening has you looking over at Nicky from where you lay your head on the headrest of your seat. You let him throw his bag in the back seat and buckle himself in before you speak.

“I'm sorry,” you tell him softly. “I'm sorry if I embarrassed you.”

“I know what she called you. All the moms were laughing about it,” he tells you. “It's not fair that you got into trouble, but they don't.”

���I know,” you agree, nodding your head.

“I don't want to come back tomorrow,” he says, looking down at his hands in his lap. “I don't even like playing with half of them. Especially her son, he's a shithead.”

“Watch it! You can't quit,” you say, shaking your head at him. “Isn't like the number one rule for these things? You can’t let your team down. What's that saying? Never give up, never….something.”

“Coach is headed this way,” he tells you, and you follow his line of sight out the windshield. Everything in you hardens once more as you watch the blonde man make his way over to your car.

“The fuck he is,” you mutter under your breath.

You quickly start your car, throwing it in drive, taking off out of the parking lot with squealing tires. Absolutely not. There was no way you were going to talk to that man. If Nicky changes his mind about wanting to play, you'll have to send Chris or Elly to take your place. You know they would do it in a heartbeat, but as of right now…you're done.

《Chapter Four》

Tagged Readers:

@busanbby-jjk , @meelismee , @jajabro , @wicked-game-black-butler

@wobblewobble882, @damn-u-min-yoongi , @mintedagustd , @Granataepfelchen

@yoongiiuu93, @jimeg629 , @jincapableoflove , @minghaosimp

@redragdoll, @ot72025 , @seoullove96 @our-cool-jenny , @kam9404

@amarawayne , @haileyborig, @mar-lo-pap

[delulujuls]

his eyes | mv33

hi! you asked about part two for the mad dutchman and the fearless dutchess so i delivered (its still hot, fresh from the oven). i'm not sure if i like it but don't worry, for sure i will write something about the mad dutch duo in the future. but now enjoy this one!

summary: eyes can say a lot so where it comes to reveal feelings there is no place to hide

warnings: none, mentions of car accident

pairing: fem!redbulldriver x max verstappen

Max's eyes were beautiful.

They were always beautiful when they had small wrinkles around them caused by smiling. Always then, they were the color of a cloudless sky on a warm july morning. They were beautiful even when there was a storm raging inside. They were dark and agitated then, but still beautiful. But they were beautiful in a terrifying way, because at that moment there was no trace of a smile on Max's face, and the only warmth was the rage burning in his veins.

Y/N could have sworn she had never met another pair of eyes like Max's, so whenever she could, she allowed herself to drown in them. Even during arguments, when they were shouting and calling each other names, his eyes were beautiful. However, they lost all their beauty when they were struck by fear.

When Max was scared, his eyes faded. The july sky was covered with clouds and the turbulent sea was shrouded in fog. Y/N stopped noticing the fear in Max's eyes when he managed to break free from his toxic father and their karting years ended, replaced by Formula 1.

However, on that day when she woke up in the ambulance, the first thing she encountered was the cloudy sky in his eyes. Max wasn't scared; he was terrified to the core. When, after a few seconds, his brain acknowledged that his friend was alive, he sighed with relief. The sky began to clear.

"I never thought I'd be so happy to see those deceitful eyes of yours."

Verstappen smiled, squeezing his friend's hand.

"What happened?"

She asked with difficulty. Her throat hurt terribly; the hot smoke and fumes had taken their toll.

"You had an accident and lost consciousness. We'll be at the hospital soon."

"Accident is an understatement," a paramedic interjected, removing her drip from the hanger "You did a Grosjean from Bahrain 2020."

Y/N blinked several times and it took her a moment to connect the dots. Judging by the man's comparison, her accident must have been truly unpleasant.

"How's the car?"

"Just needs a wipe."

She rolled her eyes at her friend's words, and a moment later, she coughed. Quickly, she put her oxygen mask back on.

"Don't worry about the car," Max said, still holding her hand. "The most important thing is that you're back with us."

"At what cost? At least, being unconscious spared me from looking at you."

She replied sarcastically, pulling the mask slightly away from her face. Max chuckled quietly at her words, relieved that she still had the strength to joke after everything. She returned his smile. She still didn't fully grasp what had happened or what she had been involved in, but the feeling inside her body told her it must have looked bad. The last time she saw fear in Max's eyes was years ago.

But something had changed after that. Since her accident, she noticed that Max's eyes looked at her differently. In a way she had never seen before, a way she couldn't compare to anything else. They looked at her with unimaginable gentleness and tenderness. They looked at her with love.

"You're damn stubborn, you know that?"

Max said when barely two weeks after the accident Y/N, using crutches, appeared in his garage. He didn't say it maliciously; he was just genuinely worried. He put down his water bottle and approached his friend, gently hugging her and pulling up a chair for her.

"I'm glad to see you too."

She replied, leaning her crutches against the chair and sitting on the workbench.

Max sighed and shook his head. Since the accident, Y/N had been a constant source of concern for him.

"What?" she asked, glancing at him, "I'm not getting into the car, don't worry."

"You should be resting."

"I am resting, see?" Y/N pointed to her makeshift seat, "More comfortable than a bed."

Max was about to reply, but he was called to take his place in the car. Friends exchanged glances one last time and as he left the garage, Y/N hopped off the bench and approached Christian's workstation, taking a seat next to him. He smiled at her and handed her headphones.

"Good to see you, Y/N."

"Some would prefer me not to be here."

She replied, glancing at the monitor. Christian smiled at the thought of Max, who was very concerned about his friend.

"He was really worried about you, like we all were."

"I guess I'm just not used to Verstappen seeing more than the tip of his own nose."

The man laughed at her words. She was absolutely right; Max's reputation could be unpredictable. However, lately, his behavior had changed noticeably, evident to everyone in the paddock.

When the training session ended, friends returned to the hotel. Max kept pace with Y/N, ready to catch her if she stumbled. Moving on crutches wasn't problematic for her, though.

"Don't look at me like I'm an eighty-year-old grandma."

She said, seeing his gaze as they reached her room and she plopped onto the bed with a heavy sigh.

"I'm not looking at you like that. We both know that you are slower than this only in a car."

Y/N grabbed a pillow and threw it at him and he laughed, effortlessly catching it. They looked at each other for a moment in silence, but Y/N lowered her gaze when she noticed his eyes doing it again. Looking at her in that way.

"Christian said you were worried" the girl said, after a moment gathering enough courage to look at him again, "Really?"

"I thought I was pulling a corpse out of that wreck. Of course I was worried."

She lowered her gaze again, focusing on her hands. Max squeezed the pillow in his hands and sat next to her.

"Thank you."

She said softly. Even though she had thanked him earlier, she knew that no amount of gratitude would match the level of his deed. She turned her head towards him and their gazes met again. He smiled.

"I knew you'd do the same. You've always got my back, no matter how angry you are with me."

Y/N snorted and nodded. Max was absolutely right. Although some time had passed since the accident, they hadn't had a chance to talk about it. Not about the accident itself, but about what changed between them. Because something definitely had changed.

"Can I ask you something?"

She spoke up, glancing at him. He nodded.

"Did what happened change anything between us?"

"What do you mean?"

Max tensed a bit. Although he didn't move an inch, after so many years spent together, you could pick up every detail.

"You're behaving differently toward me."

She explained. He looked at her attentively.

"You're more affectionate. I've never felt something like that from you before."

Max lowered his head and interlaced his fingers. He wasn't sure how to put into words what had been swirling in his head for some time and growing stronger with each passing day. So, he decided to go for honesty.

"When I was pulling you out of the car, I had no idea if you were alive. Riding in the ambulance, I wondered if I would ever be able to talk to you again and apologize for that senseless argument."

He took a deep breath and rubbed his face with his hands.

"When you woke up and looked at me, I thought I'd cry with happiness. That's when I realized how much you mean to me and how important you are."

Y/N stayed silent, trying to absorb all the words he had spoken. She could feel the emotions quickening her pulse, so she decided to lighten the mood a bit and probe whether they were on the same page.

"If you had kissed me, I probably would have woken up faster."

Max felt as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water on him. He blinked several times and looked at his friend. She just smiled slightly.

"Kissed?"

She nodded.

For a moment, Max struggled to open his mouth to say something, but to no avail. He was in too much shock.

"Are you setting me up now?"

"I'm not setting you up, Max."

"Yes, like if I had kissed you back then, you would have woken up faster. But only to punch me in the face."

She laughed and fell back on the pillows, pretending to be dead.

"You have to check it yourself."

Max wondered for a moment if she was joking, but he didn't have time for further contemplation. She grabbed his shirt and pulled him toward her. He leaned on his elbow next to her head and looked at her face. Her gaze and a faint smile indicated that it wasn't just a silly joke.

Without hesitation, Max lightly touched her cheek and kissed her. She smiled and hugged him around the neck, returning the kiss.

When they separated for a moment to catch their breath, the eyes of the two met again and Y/N once again allowed herself to drown in the boundless blue of his eyes. The turbulent sea was calm and the july, sunny sky was cloudless. Everything was fine.

Everything was just how it supposed to be.

[ivystoryweaver]

With You part 12

<-prev next-> || Fic Masterlist || My Masterlist

Summary: You and your husband adjust to life with Jake in the mix and Marc gone quiet.

Pairings: Steven Grant x gn!reader, Jake Lockley x gn!reader, Marc Spector x gn!reader. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3k

Content: fluff, some angst, spicy times (more under the cut)

Warnings: cursing, references to Marc's trama/past, food prep and talk about food (I know this can be triggering for some) sex implied, foreplay, handjob, but language is not overly explicit and is gn. Probably inaccurate DID, based on the show.

Steven arrived home from work, having narrowly escaped a London downpour. Setting his bag down right inside the door, he shed his damp jacket and kicked off his shoes, thinking Marc might pipe up and scold him at any moment.

Marc was the neat one. Like military neat. Like, don't leave a mess or mom will make you regret it, neat. Like erase your existence from your alter...from the authorities...from the world, neat.

Steven was the messy one. Scatterbrained, he'd been called by a boss or two. It wasn't so much scatterbrained as it was a bit of unaware brain sharing.

But he hadn't shared much of anything with Marc lately. Not since Khonshu had stripped him of his armor mid-fight and almost gotten him killed. That was two weeks ago.

Padding over to his fish tank, Steven placed his hands on his knees, bending forward to take a look at his tiny little school. There were four fishies now, which almost seemed appropriate. One for Steven, Marc, you and now Jake.

Narrowing his eyes, Steven scrutinized the colorful little creatures before reaching for some fish food.

"All right then, time to eat," he chimed. Dumping a few flakes into the water, he smiled at their eager nibbles, until his eyes caught his own reflection.

"You there?" He asked, not actually addressing anyone, but definitely thinking of Marc. "No? ...didn't think so."

With a sigh, Steven sauntered to the kitchen to start the kettle. The flat was dark - the thunderstorm outside made sure of it, and he worried, for a moment, about you trudging home in these conditions.

"Should be alright," he mused to himself, the way he was prone to do. "Not due home for a couple hours yet."

He stopped short when he saw a note on the kitchen counter. It was not unlike the several notes you had left for Jake, on the bedside table. Same envelope at least.

"What's this, then?" he mused, picking it up.

The letters, displayed in your handwriting, spelled 'Marc'.

"Hm. Left you a note. Best come read it," Steven tried to tell his alter. Hearing nothing, he chewed on his lip for a moment before turning the envelope over in his hand.

The contents really did belong to Marc, but Steven felt that maybe had had the best chance of actually communicating with him. So he opened the letter and began to read aloud.

"Hope you don't mind, but I'm going to be reading this," Steven said to no one, because apparently no one was listening. "If you're not going to look at it, you should at least hear it."

'Dear Marc, I can't remember the last time we've gone so long without seeing one another, or at least speaking. Even on your longest missions, it never felt like this. If I could go back to the last time I saw you huddled on the kitchen floor, I would have never let you out of my arms. I would have never ranted about what Jake should do, or how much I hate Khonshu. I would've just held on and told you the truth over and over - that you're everything. That it didn't matter to me if you wore the suit again without telling me because I trust you, and because you can make your own decisions. I've always trusted your judgment. You are the real Moon Knight and you had every right to put on the suit if you felt like you wanted or needed to. I would have told you I support you 100%, that you're needed, that you're loved - that my anger and my bright ideas about how we should march right up to Khonshu and punch his bony beak didn't matter, not when you were feeling so shut out, so displaced, so thrown backwards in time, made to feel any less than. You are not less than Steven. You are not less than Jake. Or me. And you sure as hell are not less than an ancient deity who needs a modern day human body to roam the streets of London. It is he who needs you. And I need you. I need you, Marc. I need to see you again so badly, I can't even breathe sometimes. Not at night, after Steven falls asleep, not in the shower sometimes, or at work, when someone asks after you. I need you so much. Please, this isn't about making you feel guilty. You're my husband. You are the love of my life. I know you're resting now. I know you're taking the time you need. Steven is taking good care of you. But when you're ready, please, please come back to me. I love you so much.'

Running a hand over his chin, Steven folded the letter and put it back where he found it. Peering at his reflection in the microwave, Steven waited...hoping...

But it was quiet.

The next night, you made it home first. Steven had spoiled you rotten the previous, stormy evening. He claimed he was treating you to some warm soup and a hot bath because you were drenched when you arrived home.

But you knew it was because he read your letter and wanted to cheer you up. In fact, you believed that Steven missed Marc too. They didn't always co-front - you typically were only with one of them at a time, but they did talk all the time, and what you had sworn to Marc one afternoon on the rooftop was true: he was Steven's best friend in all the world.

So, a comforting bath and cuddles in bed made you both feel worlds better.

Tonight you wanted to show Steven a little love right back. It was really too bad that you found yourself elbow deep in making vegan fajitas when you heard the front door, because you desperately wanted a big hug.

"I'm in here, babe!" You called, dripping your way over to the sink to wash up.

Steven would have normally spouted off a greeting, two terms of endearment and one fun fact by the time he reached you, but as you turned to see him leaning against the door frame, you only heard the sound of your name...in an American accent.

Your heart rate tripled - your face flamed hot...then you saw your husband's dark curls were covered by a flat cap.

Holy shit. "Jake?"

"Hola," he winked, folding his arms over his chest. Noticing your apparent distress - and automatically assuming he was the cause, the corners of his mouth turned downward.

"Mi amor?" He questioned, his eyes going wide like a child getting in trouble.

"Jake!" You breathed, rushing up to throw your arms around him.

His body sagged in relief, melting into yours until he found the strength to wrap his bigger, stronger arms around your frame.

"Oh my god, oh my god," you gasped, gripping him desperately. "You're here, I can't believe it."

Surprised but thrilled at how relieved and happy you seemed, Jake nuzzled the spot right above your ear, running his hands up and down your back soothingly.

"I hope it's all right," he whispered, his hot breath tickling your ear.

Easing back, you gazed up into his deep brown eyes. "What do you mean? Of course it's all right."

Chewing on his lip worriedly, he shrugged one shoulder adorably, still holding on to you. "It's not a bad time, is it? You're not...supposed to be with Steven? Or anyone?"

You melted. "Baby, it's your body. If you're here, you're here. You don't need my permission." Gently caressing his cheek, you shook your head in wonder. "I just - I don't think I've ever seen you before midnight."

Glancing down at his outfit, you realized you didn't recognize his clothing as Steven or Marc's. Your heart swelled, seeing this new piece of him - a faded, denim jacket over a striped t-shirt.

"And I've never seen you wear anything except Steven's PJ's or your driving uniform," you added, brushing your hand over his.

"Or nothing at all," he cheekily added, biting his lip, waiting for your reaction.

You grinned like a fool, giggling as he swooped you up into a tender kiss. He sampled your lips one at a time, sucking gently, taunting you - until you licked hotly into his mouth, sinking your fingers into his curls. This knocked the cap off his head, which made him growl in response.

Two strong hands dragged your thighs around his waist and in a few long strides, he planted you on the countertop with an 'umph!'

"Sorry," he murmured, his forehead touching yours affectionately as he squeezed your hips, settling right between your spread thighs.

"Was that an offer?" you whispered, referring to him wearing nothing at all. Peppering his smiling lips with little kisses and driving him absolutely crazy, you added, "Is that why you're here?"

Easing back slowly, he swallowed. "I just wanted to see you," he earnestly admitted, a little uncertainty creasing his forehead. "I thought...maybe we could have dinner together. Is that okay?"

He was pretty new to this whole...you thing. Being married...sort of. Making an effort to...be with you. And not just sleep beside you. So he wasn't entirely sure if he was barging in to a special evening with Steven. He also wondered if you were hoping he was Marc. Actually, he was pretty certain that the surprise on your face when he first called your name was you mistaking him for Marc, for just a second.

"Come here," you softly cooed, pulling on his jacket to drag his mouth back to yours. Brushing your lips over his, you used your legs to urge his body flush against your center. "Yes, we can have dinner together..." which reminded you - you were mid-fajita prep when Jake arrived.

Tapping him cutely on the nose, you kissed his mouth one more time. "To be continued."

As you carried on with food prep, a different energy sizzled in the kitchen with Jake, most notably because he was a different person. Marc cooked with you plenty of times. In fact, he probably cooked more often than anyone and he was pretty good at it.

Cooking with Marc was precise, detailed - he knew what he wanted to do and you willingly played a supporting role. The two of you moved with practiced synchrony, like a well-rehearsed dance.

With Steven, it was all about experimentation. As a vegan, Steven was used to substituting ingredients and making things up on the fly. He also left a huge, hilarious mess behind, and typically ended up wearing a portion of his recipe.

For this reason, you had bought Steven an apron that said, 'Team Herbivore' which made Marc roll his eyes every time he saw it. Not because of the slogan but because it had three cute little veggies with smiling faces on it.

With Jake, there was no precise exchange of places, nor an experimental mess. Jake moved right with you from behind, loosely caging you in, picking up a spoon you would set down, stirring while you reached for a knife. You chopped and he added spices. He didn't even ask.

Once your hand was knife free and scraping veggies into the skillet, he was nuzzling into your neck and humming.

You lost your concentration a few times because he was just so close.

"This okay?" He would ask periodically, slipping his hand around your waist to sway with you.

"Where did you learn to cook?" You giggled, melting at the sound of his apparent singing voice?

He paused, going a little stiff.

Hoping you hadn't hit a nerve, you turned around slowly to find him smiling wistfully. "I used to watch my mom."

Your eyes widened as you tried to figure out what to say. Marc had never mentioned cooking with his mom, or her really cooking much at all. He had mentioned going to bed hungry though.

"I know...how she was," Jake softly interjected into your buzzing thoughts. "Especially with Marc." His gaze dropped as he eased back a step. "But sometimes, she would sing in Spanish. And cook. Sometimes I helped."

Reaching for his hand, you gently squeezed. "I didn't know you guys spoke Spanish until we met," you admitted, trying your best to connect a little more with Jake. "That sounds like a wonderful memory."

"One of the few," he sighed. Almost shyly meeting your eyes, he smiled warmly. "I've never told anyone that - or anything...about her."

Using your hold on his hand to pull him closer, you slid one arm around his waist. "You can tell me anything. You know that, right?"

"Mm-hmm," he hummed back, nodding over your shoulder toward the sizzling skillet. "Better stir, mi vida."

Jake's seasonings were totally on point and dinner was delicious. The two of you cleaned up the kitchen and headed to the living room to relax. You noticed Jake sat a little awkwardly on the sofa - in total contrast to the smooth, panther like movements you were accustomed to, late at night, in your bedroom.

"Jake, you okay?" You asked him, grabbing your current reading material and settling down beside him.

He nodded unconvincingly. This was wildly foreign to him. Jake only did a few things in this world: protect, kill when he had to, serve Khonshu, sleep and fuck. He didn't even eat that often - his alters usually saw to most of the body's physical care.

"What...what do you do? At night? What should I do?" He adorably asked.

You almost laughed, it was so cute, but you didn't want to hurt his feelings.

"Well...Marc and I play card games or do puzzles. We watch baseball games or old action movies - "

"You like baseball?" He asked, his eyes lighting up.

"I do," you confirmed with a smile. "The time change is a little weird from here to Chicago or New York, but we watch some afternoon games, or we watch older games."

He nodded, absorbing the information as you went on.

"Steven and I read together, or he reads to me. We like documentaries too. Sometimes I help him study for school." You chuckled, wondering if this all sounded boring to such a night owl like Jake. "Sometimes we have word search races - like, to see who can finish the fastest."

"I do crosswords in my car sometimes," Jake shrugged, as if he totally understood the appeal. "Do you like crosswords?"

"Mm-hmm," you grinned.

It was on. The two of you found a crossword website online and printed out two copies of the same puzzle. Turning on your phone's stopwatch, the race was on.

Jake kicked your ass.

"Let's go again," he chimed, finding another crossword on the laptop. "Loser has to take of their clothes."

You gasped, pretending to be offended. "Mr. Lockley," you playfully scolded.

Hearing you call him Mister anything had him shutting the laptop and scooping you up in his arms, almost racing to the bedroom. "Fuck it," he chuckled. "I surrender, I'll take off my clothes."

You howled with laughter as he deposited you on the bed and kicked off his shoes. Next came his socks - then he went for his belt. Shit, he wasn't kidding.

Crawling backwards on the bed, you settled back to enjoy the show, propped up on a pile of pillows.

Jake had peeled off his jacket while you were cooking, so once his pants were loose, he tugged off his t-shirt. You licked your lips at the way his abdomen flexed at the motion, and almost mewled at the way the shirt's collar mussed his curls. Then he paused, checking for a reaction before removing his pants.

"Don't let me stop you...Mr. Lockley," you teased, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

The corner of his mouth curled as he pushed his pants and boxers all the way down. Leaning forward to kick them off his feet, a loose curl fell across his forehead.

Your mouth went dry at the sight of him naked and ready for you. Climbing onto the bed on his hands and knees, he hovered over you, reveling in the way your eyes devoured him.

"Your turn," he purred, teasing you with a nibble to your lips.

Running your hands all over his smooth skin, you felt between his legs, teasing his length with your fingertips.

Hissing in pleasure, he more than willingly allowed you to have your way, licking wickedly into your mouth while grinding into your palm.

"Do you really read and study all the time, mi vida?" He groaned out, rolling his hips in time with your strokes. "Or is this more your idea of fun?"

"Definitely this," you breathed against his mouth. "A fucking lot of this."

Spending the evening with Jake was a balm to your tender heart. You had seen him since the night Khonshu healed him - since your first night together - but only late at night, for a quick conversation, or for a repeat performance.

So spending an entire, domestic evening with him, ending up between the sheets for hours, before falling asleep draped across his naked body - you were in heaven. Maybe Jake really was going to ease into your life - actually be in a relationship with you.

Your heart swelled with love for your husband - for all the lovely, wonderful parts of the system he was. You would have to grab some extra ingredients from the store and plan another vegan fajita night for Steven, since Jake enjoyed the first batch. Not that Steven minded, angel that he was.

Which only left Marc.

Even with your heart so full and alive, there was still a gaping hole. As always, you tried not to put the other two in the middle of any situation, or treat them like messengers to try to get to Marc. But they were more than ready with updates.

Steven had confessed to reading the letter, and trying to talk out loud to Marc several times a day. Jake said the same, finally asking you if maybe it was his fault that Marc was so absent - so silent.

The three of you agreed that Marc just needed some time. As always, you decided not to take it personally. This was about him.

You beat Steven home again the following evening, and this time, waiting on the kitchen counter, was an envelope bearing your name.

next->

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dividers by saradika

[mintsuwu]

please how did you come up with her design I've been trying to make a design for my poppy playtime oc but it always ends up looking like rubbish please give tips😭😭

Hello, thank you for asking! Truth be told is that it took me a bit to figure out how to do LoolaLamb in general, she didn't come out too well on the first try xD I had to tweak a couple of things in her like the hair, colors or snout.

Initially, I wasn't quite sure of what animal picking for her, but then I went with the lamb idea for a few reasons:

- When I was little, I used to have a lamb plush I used to love dearly. Sadly I don't have any pictures to show since I no longer have it with me so I tried to look for one that looked similar on the Internet- But that was the main inspiration for her character. And since the Smiling Critters have their own plushies as well, I thought it would be interesting to make one of them after a real toy. I also took reference from other characters in media that were based on sheeps, like in Pokémon (Flaaffy & Whimsicott).

I would always recommend using references if you ever don't know where to start with a design. And in the case of a Poppy Playtime OC, you can look for references if you desire as well, or even turn a beloved toy of yours into a character, anything works!

In many cultures, the lamb is a revered symbol of innocence, purity, and sacrifice. It is often associated with religious connotations, particularly in Christianity, where it symbolizes the embodiment of Christ's innocence and the sacrificial lamb offering redemption and atonement for humanity's sins. I simply liked the symbology of this because I'm always a sucker for that when it comes to creating characters;;

This was mainly due to lore reasons, her association with Catnap, a follower of an entity, the Prototype, whom he workships and would do anything to get its blessing. LoolaLamb "sacrified" her voice for the Prototype (well, it actually was that Catnap took away her voicebox with that excuse).

Her name "LoolaLamb" is a word play for "lullaby", given the role she was going to have in the Smiling Critters line, a replacement for Catnap who would have a similar role as his, except that instead of using a gas to make people fall asleep, she would use her voice. Sheeps and lambs are also heavily associated with sleep and dreams, given the advice: if you can't get to sleep, just “count sheep” until you drift off into a peaceful slumber.

Sheep are wanderers. It's their nature. Even in the best and safest of places, places that provide protection, water, and food, sheep are known to wander off, get lost, and sometimes eaten by predators.

Her color pick was mainly because even if the smiling critters have more or less the colors of the rainbow and there are already two blue colored critters (Bubba Bubbaphant being more of a neutral blue or azure and Craftycorn cyan or aquamarine), I noticed that there were no dark blue or indigo colored ones. My first idea for LoolaLamb was to give her more violet colors, given her correlation to Catnap, but at the same time I wanted her to stand out amongst the others, being a little more of her own character, so that´s why I ended up picking a different color pallete for her.

And those are pretty much the basic things I had in mind when creating LoolaLamb! Of course it doesn't always have to be so elaborated with all characters, but I'd always recommend to find references, information, symbolism, anything that might help you with the creation of your character in case you don't know where to start or are simply stuck!

I might not be the best when it comes to explaining things but I hope this has helped you and I wish you the best in your creative process, anon! 🙏🏻💖

[idle-compy]

jwct season two review!! spoilers below!!

to start off, I really enjoyed this season! it definitely had some weak spots, but overall wasn't a bad season

the animation is definitely the first thing I want to bring up. it was absolutely beautiful. the colors and lighting were stunning, and the way everything moved made it feel a bit more real. I'd like to give a special shout out to any scene involving water because, one, the water was animated extremely well, and two, the way the characters looked after getting wet was a huge upgrade to jwcc

speaking of the characters, I want to talk about them a bit! this is going to be a bit of a mix between good and bad

darius: unfortunately, darius felt kinda flat this season. before the initial release, the show was advertised around him, and he shone his way thru season one. he had conflicts, he had emotions, he an arc. in season two, he felt kind of like a side character. only watching the season once so far, the only memorable moments I remember are him trying to bond with zayna and that extremely awkward flashback of his confession (which is a whole other thing I will get to). other than that, he didn't really have much going on. there was no actual story; no arc. maybe when I do a rewatch, something else will stand out to me

sammy: unfortunately, sammy's story this season also felt kinda weak. for starters, she didn't get to kick a single ass. I feel like her whole arc was just being attached to zayna. she clearly got very emotional about the mballo family, so I guess I was just hoping they would elaborate a bit more on what's going on with her own. I also definitely do think she saw a bit of herself in zayna, so I was hoping that would go somewhere, too. I was really happy about her being a canon vegetarian, though

yaz: yaz, as always, was an icon. she was THE character this season. she was so good at reading people and noticing they weren't okay, and then she tried to help her friends, no matter how much they refused to communicate. a moment of appreciation for her patience when dealing with kenji and ben, because they were not making it easy for her

also her solo episode!!!!! was insane!!!!!! it was literally never ending tension, and good god nothing was going right for her, and yet she kept going. she kept fighting. that episode was also a really good example of how much she's grown. no matter what was thrown at her, she didn't let herself fall into a state of panic and irrational thoughts

ben: I loved his arc. he was put in such an insanely messy and complicated situation, and mixing that with his anxiety and paranoia, of course he'd struggle with it. they did a good job at making the audience understand his thought process. he had to choose between telling the group their dead friend is actually alive because he saw her in the background of one video, or holding back this info until he got more solid proof. then, said dead friend video calls him and begs him not to say anything. that only made it more difficult for him, because he was 100% sure she was alive then, but was asked to not tell. watching him fall deeper and deeper into a state of panic absolutely crushed me

kenji: oh kenji, kenji, kenji. I don't even know where to begin with him, so I guess I'll start with the overall character. to be completely honest, there were moments (especially in the middle of the season) where he just did not feel like kenji. he was abrasive and just seemed off somehow. I'm not gonna go too much into that, though, because most people aren't the same person at 22 that they were when they 15. he has also been through an insane amount of stuff and was at a point where he was overwhelmed with emotions, but was trying to convince both his friends and himself that he wasn't

now his arc is a different story. I like where they took it (in a way that added complexity to an already complex character, not in a yippee!! kenji wants to kill himself!! way). the arc itself was hard, and absolutely depressing, to watch. the way he kept throwing himself in danger's way as if he had a death wish was absolutely heart wrenching. then when he realized what he had been doing and how it affected others, and when he said "I don't know how much more I can take" I wanted to rip him through the screen and give him a big hug

brooklynn: loved loved LOVED her storyline. I was so happy to see her side of the story and how she ended up where she did. the first scene I want to talk about is when she wanted to see her family and friends, she wanted to reach out, but realizing that it could potentially put them in danger, she solidified her decision to stay "dead." I loved that scene so much because it knocks out all of those "heartless brooklynn" theories. she faked her death for them, not to hurt them

I loved that they had moments of focus where she adapted to her new limb difference, and that she was allowed to grieve her missing arm. it felt real and human. also watching her ability to manipulate others and make her way into those different situations was so extremely fascinating. like she is an amazing investigative journalist

also the final scene, where she went with soyona. as agonizing as it was to watch, I'm actually glad she made that decision. it wouldn't have felt realistic for her to choose her friends, not after everything she had gone through to even get there. she was in too deep, and it was very brooklynn of her to continue the investigation instead of going back to her old life. I feel that giving bumpy's egg to the others was her little sign saying "I'm still in here"

ok moving on!

there's also some good and some bad when it comes to the way they told the story

for the good, I really liked the way they switched back and forth between brooklynn and the others. it was a good way to keep up with the timeline while also filling in gaps (ex: the crate moving into the pen just long enough to get them out only to find out brooklynn was on the controls)

on the other hand, the story in the middle of the season (more specifically eps 4, 5, 6), felt like it was moving a bit slow at times. certain things seemed dragged out and there was a lot of filler time. the first episode and the last four did a really good job at avoiding that. the stakes were high and the scenes were so full of tension and ominousity that I was drawn in just about the entire time

now for random little things

I loved the inclusion of the mballo family. it was so refreshing to get new characters that didn't have bad intentions, and I feel like they were exactly what the five needed in that moment

going off of that, I absolutely adored zayna!! she was such a good inclusion. she was determined and strong-willed while also still being a kid. her sarcastic personality (towards darius specifically) was a good way to bring in some light humor too

geba!!! that's all just geba

also the eyeless leucistic baryonyx. I felt so bad for the poor thing knowing that she was intentionally created to be that way. her interactions with the characters were absolutely terrifying, though, and when she communicated with the acrociraptor???? I didn't think it could get more intense

I was actually losing my mind when the baryonyx and red were hunting the nublar five with all the lights turned off. that was another extremely well done scene

the darius confession flashback was..... something. definitely NOT how I was expecting them to go about that scene. season one made it seem like she had been staying with him for a while and he slowly developed feelings that way and eventually she caught on. but that flashback threw all of that away. like she clearly hadn't been there very long and darius had already fallen HARD, and it just seemed out of character for him to insist kenji didn't love her that much. the whole thing was just ugh

the video call flashback was great tho!! it was nice to see they still continued those calls

ben and kenji!!!!!! no but I was actually obsessed with what they did with their relationship this season. the bickering, the divorced couple vibes, and of course the heart to heart. I've been waiting years for that to happen and it did. just for their relationship to go to shambles the next episode 😭

but on that note I will say the reveal to kenji was set up so extremely well. being able to see and hear ben and brooklynn but they don't know he's there, and then everything he does witness is out of context, so he builds up his own conclusion. him confronting ben was so intense like godddd. I couldn't stand the pain in both of their faces. when kenji cracked the glass??? imagine if he had actually aimed for bens face

on the other hand, the reveal to the rest was kinda meh. I just felt like they could've done more with it, but hey, I guess it's realistic. not everything is going to happen under dramatic circumstances

speckles ❤️ (just call me kenji the way I'm attached to that egg)

I loved to see some behaviors from nublar come back!! like yaz going for casual runs through the forest with dinosaurs and darius creating another field guide. I missed dino nerd darius

also the roar identification competition they were having in the beginning was so funny but also such a them thing to do

wish brooklynn would've kept her grey graphic tee (I think it said kroxic??). I liked it more than the plain navy one (/lh)

speaking of clothes, why did they change for that one episode then immediately change back??? felt like a waste of those models (/lh)

anyway I think that's all!! I might come back and edit if I think of anything else to add

[spee-eeeeee]

“Welcome our house! My misty”

Tomas (a little bit like Yandere)x female reader

I wrote this in Japanese and then translated it into English with Google Translate, so I've edited it but apologize if there are any mistakes! I hope you like this,,,

Warning: kidnapping

An unfamiliar ceiling spreads out before your eyes. Where on earth are you? Yesterday, you were sure you had been sleeping in your room like usual. But when you woke up, you found yourself self lying on a bed with clean white sheets. A blanket had even been carefully placed over you. You looked around, and saw a teddy bear on the edge of the bed, two small tables and chairs nearby, and no windows in the room. And a wooden door.

　Stay calm, don't panic. There's nothing good to come from being in a hurry. Everything will be okay,,,,First, you took a deep breath to calm your palpitations. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. You felt a little better. Luckily, your hands and feet weren't chained or tied with rope. You got off the bed and touched the doorknob, but of course it wasn't unlocked. There wasn't much furniture in the room, so there was nowhere to look for anything, and you couldn't find any clues to escape from this room. There was nothing you could do, so you reluctantly sat on the bed and sighed.

　Suddenly, you heard the sound of the door in front of you unlocking. You could only stare at the door as it creaked in surprise. Then, a man stepped in.

"Good morning, sweetheart ,,,,you're awake! How are you feeling?"

The man asked you as if you were lover, as if you'd known each other for a long time. Even though it was your first meeting.

"Who are you? Did you kidnap me here?"

You couldn't help but ask. You never know what someone might do if you provoke them. The man was visibly muscular, and if he hit you even once, you’re sure you would lose consciousness easily. Perhaps seeing your confused and impatient expression, the man began to introduce himself.

"I haven't introduced myself yet. I'm Tomas. Sorry for being rough with you. But I don't mean to hurt you."

　Even if you make a big fuss and try to escape, you won't be able to win against this man. You have no choice but to obey him obediently.

"Are you hungry? I made breakfast for you! I'll bring it to you so wait a moment."

　He said, and left the room. Of course, the door was locked again.

A few minutes later, you heard the sound of the door being unlocked again, and Tomas came into the room with a smile on his face, carrying a tray. He put it on the table, sat down in the chair opposite, and looked at me. He said with a slightly shy smile.

"I hope it's good."

On the tray were an egg omelet with ketchup, a colorful vegetable salad, steaming hot soup, and water. If this wasn't the place where the kidnapper...you mean, Tomas, had brought you, what an exciting breakfast it would have been. No one would want to eat something made by a kidnapper. It wouldn't be surprising if there was something foreign in it. Suspicious medicine... But you thought it would be bad if you didn't eat here and upset Tomas, so you reluctantly moved to the seat opposite.

　you prepared myself, and took the omelette. The fluffy egg spread in my mouth. It wasn't bad at all, in fact the opposite. The soup had a mild taste. The salad dressing seemed homemade, but it was very well made. You didn't want to admit it, but you had to admit that it was delicious. When you finished eating your breakfast, Tomas said happily.

"I'm glad you like my cooking. From today you'll be living here! And as your lover, I'll do anything to make you comfortable my misty,,,"

Living is the wrong word to locking you in. And he just called you his "lover." You couldn't keep up.

"Well, I'm going to go and clean up this."

While you were thinking about what he was going to do, he gently pulled me to him and kissed your forehead. You were frozen in shock, but he picked up the tray and left the room. You didn't have time to feel disgusted. All you could do was stand there.

Part2↓

[liamket]

"Huh?"

"I said," Legend kept a firm tone "that you should consider the option of a full-rested night"

Four understood why was he saying this, he didn't woke up the veteran last night to his shift and decided to stay more late than he should've.

In my defense, Vio tried to justify himself. that book was interesting.

"Maybe, thanks for your suggestion" He turned back to reading his book, it was too early for getting scolded by their veteran.

"It wasn't a suggestion" That firm tone didn't leave, this time stronger "This is already the fifth time! And don't act like you don't get affected by this, I've noticed how clumsly you're getting each fight we get into"

He has a point, at this rate we will really get injuried. Green was considering Legend's words.

Sure, if they took other's shifts the rest of them will be having more rest, even if it means that they will be getting more and more wore off.

"If Rulie finds out that you got yourself injured just because you decided that sleeping is for the weak, may Farore protect your soul" Legend didn't say anything else and walked away, letting the cup that he brought to Four next to them.

They grabbed it and took a sip. Oh, its chamomile tea! and with honey! That was a sweet gesture from the pink-haired hero.

He could've brought coffee, its so much better if he wants us to not be all tired during fights. Blue showed aside the warm color, not too happy with their drink.

That's true, but right now? Some tea wouldn't do harm It was a little late and camp was already set up, there will not be any problem if they just fell asleep.

Aw, but I wanted to finish that book. We can read it tomorrow! I also want to see the ending. I bet the traitor is the hunter, he seems really suspicious. 50 rupees that it is the sorcerer. Deal!. Stop doing bets with our money!. Its the musician one!. RED-

---

Wild thought that some tea would help them to relax from their last fight, a horde like that could easily take all energy from any warrior. But it wasn't the main reason that he decided to use his chamomile reserve.

Legend came to him some hours ago to talk about something, he thought that it was about something from the fight, sure he was getting too much with the throwing-almost-broken-weapons thing, but it worked!

"Listen," The vet hushed, coming closer to the champion "I'm not sure if you already noticed, but haven't you seen Four acting a little off?"

Oh, so this was about their smithy.

"Uhm, no? I mean, he's been a little more..." How was it called?

"Clumsy? Distracted? Tired-looking?" Legend gave some options.

"Tired-looking, yeah" It is more often that he finds their smallest hero nodding off while traveling. "Why the question?"

He knew Legend, he could come as cold and a little harsh, but if he was asking this it must be for a reason.

"I know why, he has been taking longer shifts more and more frequently. I want you to help me to get him rest today, the whole night without interruptions" He kept the tone down, trying to not catch anyone's attention.

So, helping the smith to sleep? An easy task, he can do some tea and it will be it.

When the camp was set he started working, putting the water to boil and preparing the chamomile that he got from Twilight's era. After half an hour he went to give each one of the chain a cup, some with extra honey and others without nothing to make it sweeter. It was weird, drinking almost plain water, but he will not judge.

For Four he prepared a cup with some extra things; some mint leafs, a little bit of linden and, of course, sweet honey that Legend gave him specifically for the smithy's cup.

He send the veteran to deliver the special cup, and then went to work on their dinner.

Broth will make their stomachs warm, they skipped lunch and something with a lot of nutriens will do well for them. When Wild went to give the last bowl of dinner he found the results of Legend's plan.

Four was calmly sleeping, resting his back on the tree that he was sitting next earlier, with an open book and his bag slighly open next to him.

It would be mean to wake him up, so he left the bowl next to the smithy with a cloth covering it to keep it warm and free of bugs, made sure that his bag was closed (Wind will take any opportunity to stick his nose in anyone's bag) and covered him with a blanked.

Wild went back with the rest of the Chain to talk and finish his own portion. The only thing that was haunting his mind now was the musician being the traitor, but he didn't know who was the one that he betrayed. He needs to ask Four to let him borrow a copy of that book tomorrow.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve sniffled as he cleaned off Eddie's gravestone once again. The town had been saved, the crack closed, and somehow Vecna had been defeated. No one really knew what happened. Only that a mysterious figure with wings had saved their asses. El was still trying to find them, but they were hiding themselves pretty well. Hopper believed he slunk back into the Upside Down before it closed, but no one else believed that, especially Dustin. He didn't say it outloud, but he knew the kid believed that it had somehow been Eddie. Steve didn't want to discourage him or get his hopes up. He didn't know what to do.

All he could do now was to keep cleaning Eddie's headstone. Edward Munson: Now At Peace. Yeah, right. People keep spray painting "burn in hell" across the headstone. He didn't deserve this. . . Even in death, they were still fucking with him. Steve let out a strangled yell and threw the rag.

"It's not fucking fair!" Steve snapped.

Steve breathed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. He stared at the headstone and did some breathing exercises to help calm him down. Now would be the perfect time to tell him everything, at least, Robin said it would help.

"I never got to really know you, man," Steve said. "And I really wish that I did, though. I wish I could see you play that guitar even at the Hideout. . .to see you up on that stage. I kind of wanted to see you graduate, too. I would have loved to see you give Higgins the finger. I always hated that guy. Fucking asshole. I would have loved to see you DM up on your throne. I'm not sure I would be able to play, I honestly would have gotten distracted. I wish I knew more than that, though. Like, what's your favorite song? Your favorite movie? Your favorite color, man? I don't know. . .anything. I wish you were here to tell me. I just wish. . ."

He stood there for a moment as though he were expecting an answer. Steve sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He went to reach for the rag, but someone beat him to it. A man with a hat over his head and sunglasses on his face was kneeling in front of Eddie's grave. Steve had no clue who it was.

"Let me help, son," the man said in a deep southern accent.

Steve had been spending enough time with Wayne and Dustin to realize that this man sounded an awful lot like Wayne with his accent. He knew it wasn't Wayne, though, because this man was too young and he knew that Wayne was working.

"You didn't do this, did you?" Steve asked.

"I just want to help, boy," the man said. "A handsome man like Eddie Munson doesn't deserve this. Although, I guess you could say he is hot as hell."

"That's a weird thing to say about a dead guy," Steve said, scrunching up his nose. "Did you know him?"

"You could say that. You could also say that I knew him a little too well," he said. "I kind of overheard your speech there, son. I can answer some of those questions for you, ya know?"

"I - would like that," Steve said softly as he grabbed the extra rag and knelt down to clean up the headstone.

"Well, most people would think differently about his favorite song. He loved the song Rolling Stone by Muddy Waters. His mama would teach him how to dance to that song. Sometimes, she would place him on her feet. He loves red, but he also loves the color blue," the man said. "He loves Conan the Barbarian. He used to sneak into the theater with his best friend, Ronnie."

"Ronnie?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, she was the first friend he ever made, and she was never more than his best friend despite him making an embarrassing move on her," he chuckled.

"That sounds familiar," Steve laughed. "He told you all this?"

"In a way," he said. "Ronnie showed him the way into leading lost sheep. His uncle gave him the kick in the ass he needed into not giving a fuck what other people thought of him. He still had some learning to do. He was kind of queer in the head, though, despite all of that."

"What? Who cares what he was into?" Steve scoffed. "Are you seriously judging him on that? I'm queer in the head myself."

"Wait, hold on, son. I ain't judging him for that, and you do know that queer also means weird, right?" The man asked.

"Yeah. . .I mean, I forgot," Steve stuttered.

"Should I just forget that you came out to a complete stranger, son? Doesn't matter, I didn't have a problem with Eddie being like that," he said, and then he dropped the accent. "I can't believe you did that!"

He dropped the hat and the sunglasses, slapping his knees as he stood up. Steve gaped up at him. His hair was cut short, but he would recognize those dimples anywhere. He was grinning wildly down at Steve.

"Eddie?!" Steve choked and he stood up.

"Hey, Stevie," Eddie said.

It was the first time he had called him that, and it made his stomach flutter. His brain tried so hard to comprehend that it was Eddie, but he looked so drastically different without his hair that he couldn't really focus. He noticed that he was also wearing a hoodie and a polo that looked awfully familiar.

"Hey, that's my polo," Steve said.

"Yeah, I broke into your house," Eddie said. "I wanted to look the least like myself."

"Why?" Steve asked.

"So, that people won't try to murder me, Steven," Eddie said.

"No, I mean, I get that. Why the deception?" He asked.

"Hi, I'm Eddie Munson. I like to be dramatic," he said, and he held out his hand. "Go ahead, take it."

Steve wrapped his hand around Eddie's like he was shaking his hand. His skin was cool to the touch, and Steve couldn't help but stare at it.

"You're real," he whispered.

"Very," he grinned.

"Why is your hand so cold?" Steve asked.

"I'm vampire now so. . . ," Eddie said, shaking his head from side to side.

"You were the mysterious figure that destroyed Vecna," Steve said in realization.

"He tried to make me his little bitch. Wanted me to do all his dirty work and kill of you," Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes. "No thanks. I can't even clean my room when my uncle asks, and I love the man. Do you think I'm going to kill people I care about for someone I hate? Yeah, no."

"You saved us. You saved this town despite the fact that they hate you for no goddamn reason," Steve said.

"Well, my dad conned half the town, so yeah," Eddie shrugged, and then his eyes lit up. "Oh, I saved Higgins! You should have seen the egg on his face. He does know I'm alive, but he probably feels guilty about blackmailing me into dropping out in '84 now."

"He did what?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, crazy story. I should tell you all about it over dinner," Eddie said.

"That was smooth," Steve smirked.

Eddie ran his hand over the vest Steve was wearing and smirked.

"My vest looks good on top of a polo," Eddie said and paused, looking at him softly. "I'm not going to waste my chance this time. Hey, Steve?"

Suddenly, Steve was brought back to the Upside Down, and Eddie had looked at him with meaningful eyes before they parted ways. The memory was soon gone.

"Yeah?"

Eddie grabbed him by the vest and pulled him in, crashing their lips together. Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, pulling him in closer as he deepened the kiss as Steve gripped his hips. Eddie broke the kiss, allowing Steve to breathe.

"We're kissing over your grave," Steve said.

"Better than walking over it," Eddie cackled.

Steve suddenly began pushing him backward until Eddie's back hit the tree that was next to his grave. He pressed his body up against Eddie's and covered his mouth with his own. He really should care that he was making out in a cemetery, but all he was aware of was Eddie. Eddie's mouth against his, Eddie's tongue making its way back in, and Eddie's hands quickly pulling his polo out of his pants so his hands could press themselves against his skin. All that mattered was how alive Eddie was and how much Steve could feel it. It was like all the lights were turning on inside of him, and it was Eddie that was flipping them on. Steve quickly broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against his, breathing heavily.

"We better stop before we do something else in cemetery that we're not supposed to," Steve said.

"Probably a good idea," Eddie said. "I think we just gave a granny quite a shock."

Steve looked over his shoulder and saw an older woman standing a few yards away, looking appalled.

"My God. She's literally clutching her pearls," Steve said.

"What do you think it is? That we're two men or that we're making out in a graveyard?" Eddie asked.

"Young man, my hearing is just fine! I don't care if you two have dicks! I mind that you two are fooling around in the place where the dead sleep!" She scowled.

Eddie and Steve looked at her in shock for a moment.

"I was not expecting her to say that," Steve said with wide eyes.

"Who would?" Eddie asked and glanced at the old woman. "Alright, time to adopt a grandmother."

"No, Eddie, we have to tell everyone you're alive, especially Wayne and Dustin," Steve said.

"Right. . .Dustin. Shit, I died in front of him. I know this is a stupid question, but how is he?" Eddie winced.

"Devestated but also hopeful that the mysterious figure who saved us all was you," Steve said and took Eddie's hand. "Let's get you home."

They laced their fingers together and walked out of the cemetery, apologizing to the granny as they left. They didn't care if anyone saw them, but after the town nearly went apocalyptic, how could anything else matter? The only thing that mattered was that they were both very much alive.

[thottythoughtdaughter]

MAY i request headcanons/one shots/anything for vincent please and thank u... your writing style is giving me brain worms (affectionate)

( i'm obsessed w u tbh. also sorry this is unedited loll )

PICNIC. vincent x lovely . pre-lovely's turning . fluff!

You loaded the car with a heavy wicker picnic basket, the woven kind you only really see on television. But Vincent had seen one while thrifting with Sam and thought of you instantly, plunking down fifty bucks without hesitation.

Bottles of lemonade clinked together, water droplets sliding down their glass necks, ice rattling cheerfully. The setting sun cast an orangey glow on everything, turning your eyes a liquid golden color.

From the window, Vincent stuck his head out into the part shadowed by the roof. "You know, Lovely, when I bought that basket I meant for you to use it with someone else. Like the Shaw pack, maybe. You really don't have to do thi--"

You held up a hand. "Vince, I already put the sandwiches in the car."

"I just mean, a picnic in the dark can't be entirely--"

"Vincent."

"You don't have to do all this for me--"

"Vincent Solaire."

He shot you a sheepish grin. "Well, I can't say I'm not excited."

You moved to the window, placing a kiss on his lips through the glass panes and shutters. His lips gently parted yours, the cold press of his fangs against your warm skin. The sun sank below the horizon, plunging the world into dusky purple light.

You pulled away, and Vincent chased the kiss, eyes still shut. You laughed, stroking his nose.

"Silly," you teased. "Hurry up and get in the damn car."

"Hurry, you say?" Vincent cocked a dark eyebrow, and in a blur, you were in the passenger seat of the car. Your stomach churned, and you turned and punched him.

"Asshole!"

He laughed, giddy, like a little boy playing a prank. "I was just trying to make my Lovely happy. Is that so wrong?"

"Yeah, it is when you make me puke!" you rolled your eyes, smacking him in the chest for good measure.

He caught your hand and pressed a kiss to your wrist. You watched his lips touch your skin and felt a flutter erupt in your stomach.

His eyes met yours, red and serious. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly, lips moving against your wrist. "I didn't actually make you sick, did I?"

You cupped his cheek with your hand, stroking those sharp cheekbones with your thumb. "No, no," you reassured him. "I like it when you pick me up."

He wiggled an eyebrow. "Oh? Is that so, hmm?"

You yanked your wrist away, smirking. "Drive the car, you miscreant."

"Anything you say, Lovely," he smiled, and pulled out of the driveway.

The sun was fully set as Vincent pulled into the parking lot, the headlights of the car creating two triangle-shaped beams through the stalks of the cornfield. Gravel crunched as he hopped out of the car, zipping around to open your door.

"My Lovely," he bowed, proffering a hand.

"Cornball," you took his hand and hopped down. Before you could make your way to the trunk, he pulled you into his chest, holding you close.

"I am a cornball. But only because you're so lovely you make it easy," he smiled. You stood on tip toe to kiss him, then pulled out of reach.

"Enough kisses, lover boy."

"Sure. For now."

He took the basket from you, and you tucked the bottles of lemonade under your arms. Still cold, they pressed against you in the muggy summer heat with a refreshing kiss.

"Where to?" Vincent asked, his red eyes gleaming in the dark. Ordinarily, you would've been terrified, stumbling in the pitch black in the middle of a cornfield. But Vincent was so self-assured, so calming, you would've felt safe even if he wasn't a highly powerful magical being.

Plus, he was so hot, it was almost too distracting.

"Just a little way in. Turn the car lights off, so we can see the stars."

He clicked the car keys, and you were both plunged into darkness. His hand found yours, seamless and familiar.

"All right. This way. Oop, careful there Lovely! Big branch in the way, step up-- yep-- Good. Almost there!"

As he did everything, Vincent led you gently and encouragingly through the dark, his voice guiding you with the warmest affection. His hand squeezed yours with every word, as if thrilled to be reminded that you were still there with him.

You broke into a clearing of grass, the moonlight finally breaking through the cornstalks, glittering constellations filling the sky. You craned your neck upward, soaking it all in, so dazzled you didn't see Vincent approach.

His lips pressed against your neck, then down your collarbone, across your chest, up the other side of your neck. You shivered, hands automatically threading themselves in his thick hair.

"Lovely," he sighed, a prayer.

"Vincent," you murmured, stroking the back of his neck. "This is a picnic, not a freak-fest."

He groaned, collapsing his face in your neck. You laughed, stroking his back. "Up, baby," you cajoled. "The point of a picnic is to eat."

"Then I guess I can only hope you're on the menu for dessert," he winked, that sparkle in his eyes.

You kissed his cheek. "Maybe."

You both set up the picnic, laying out a red-striped blanket, taking out silver spoons and gleaming white plates that looked like little moons themselves. Vincent poured lemonade into plastic cups, and you dished out little sandwiches, angling them just so. A bag of blood was chilled among the ice packs, and you handed it to Vincent with a smile.

He gave you an awed look. "Lovely, this is..."

"I know," you winked. You drew out a few candles, lighting them with a match.

"You're magical," he breathed, drawing you in for another kiss. His lips, so cold, tasted like ice cream on a summer day. His tongue felt like fire.

The stars glittered above you, and you curled into your boyfriend. Vincent Solaire. The love of your life, the joy of your heart. Candles flickered in the wind, illuminating his thoughtful face, as he looked at you warmly.

"I love you," he said.

Your heart nearly burst, full to the brim. "I love you, too."

[that-basic-simp]

Let Your Hair Down

Mizu X Fem!Reader CW: N/A WC: 1.2k+ A/N: This was originally going to be the first one-shot I was going to upload since this was the first one I wrote.

"You should wear your hair down more often," I said.

"And what? Get you and I killed?"

"No, I meant when we're alone. When we don't have to worry about people coming after you."

"I'm still surprised you haven't gotten killed either. Or kidnapped and made to be a prostitute."

"That makes two of us," I said.

"You really should hide yourself better."

"Like you?"

"It throws people off. And also no one will ever know because they die. A dead man tells no tales."

"Funny, weren't I the one to figure out your secret?"

"Because you kept following me when I said not to."

"You really don't remember me?"

"I try not to remember Kohama all that much."

"Can't say that I don't blame you. Kohama didn't treat me right either."

"This world doesn't treat women right."

"That's why we're not women," I smiled at Mizu.

"You do a horrible job at disguising yourself, you know that right?"

"Come on, try to be at least uplifting once in a while, Mizu."

"I can't when I am constantly worrying about our backs out here. More specifically yours."

"Aww, did I warm my way into the cold samurai's heart."

"I'm not a samurai. They're honorable. I have no honor."

"Not yet you don't."

"You think seeking revenge is honorable? It's anything but, Y/N. I don't know why you even followed me to begin with."

"Because I saw something you can't see in yourself."

"That being?"

"A lost, broken soul that is trying to get back at the people who wronged you. Especially that white man who caused your birth."

"What gave it away?" Mizu asked sarcastically.

"I wasn't finished. But also someone who constantly views themself as a monster, an onryo."

"Join basically everyone I have ever met," she sighed.

"But I also see a person who just wants someone to see you for who you truly are, not what you are."

"And who am I, Y/N?"

"You're Mizu. Simple as that."

"And who exactly is Mizu?"

I let out a soft chuckle, "Seems you need to do some soul searching, Mizu. Currently you're out for revenge, so I don't think soul searching is your thing to worry about right now."

"Well, who is Mizu to you?" she asked, curious.

"A strong person who will go the distance to get whatever needs to get done. A driven soul that wants to get back at the people who wronged you, but don't really go after those of your past. Those who treated you poorly and called you horrendous things. Just after the guy who made you and your mother suffer. Someone who is in need of a kind and caring  soul," I smiled at Mizu, trying to find her true eye color, but with her tinted glasses, they weren't helping.

Closing her eyes, she reached up and removed her glasses. Slowly opening them, she tilted her head upwards. My eyes found hers. I have only seen her true eye color once in a while and it was when she glared at me over her glasses. So to finally see them in their fullest and at their most vulnerable, it reminded me of the calm waters on the peaceful beach. How clear and stark they were, piercing like the ice, cold, too. Harsh, like a winter storm was raging behind those eyes. A single tear slid from her right eye and dropped onto the floor we were sitting on.

"I'm a monster, Y/N. Simple as that. Someone who shouldn't even belong in this world."

"Yet you're still here."

"I'm here for a reason."

"Your body could have easily given up on you. But you're resilient and able to push yourself through struggles. Sure you're here to get revenge, but you being here," I reached over and grabbed her hand gently. "Is a gift."

She shook her head, "I'm not, Y/N."

"To me you are. That's all that matters. And to me, I don't see a monster."

"Then what do you see?"

"A beautiful woman or handsome man. Whichever you prefer, with the most alluring blue eyes I have ever seen. Bright like the sun lit sky, calm as the waters at a peaceful beach, and yet, harsh and cold like a winter storm."

Another tear slid down her face as she turned away, shaking her head, "I-I--"

"It's ok, Mizu."

She turned and faced me, "No one has told me that before. T-Thank you, Y/N."

"You're welcome. It's a shame people only see you for your physical features and not what you harbor on the inside. Aside from revenge," I chuckled.

A slight smile formed on her lips. It was very rare for her to smile for a long period of time. Actually, it was just rare for her to smile period. Rare to show any kind of emotion other than being serious and taking no bullshit. But for some reason, I was able to worm my way into her life and still stick around.

"Everything ok, Y/N?" she asked, a little worried.

"J-Just thinking," I said.

"Thinking about what exactly?"

"Nothing too serious. Not like I could plot to kill you. I could never raise a blade like you do. It's almost as if you learned everything on your own. All the different fighting skills and blended it together to kind of make your own."

"I guess you could look at that in a sense."

"You're amazing, Mizu. You know that, right?"

Looking into her eyes, they widened slightly and she blinked a few times. Her mouth opened and closed before some pink crawled underneath her eyes. Reaching over, I placed my hand on her left cheek, turning her head to face me.

"Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise. Because I will come back and prove them wrong."

The right corner of her mouth twitched slightly, as if she was going to smile but didn't. My eyes flickered between her eyes and her lips. Letting out a soft sigh, she reached up and removed the string that held her hair together. Her long, raven like hair fell down past her shoulders. It really complimented her blue eyes, making them stand out even more than they already do. I couldn't help myself now.

Leaning towards her, I lightly placed my lips against hers. A surprised sound came from her as she backed up slightly, causing me to pull back.

"I-I'm sorry. I-I should have asked. Fuck," I breathed out, some tears forming in my eyes now. "I-I read into it too much, didn't I, Mizu? Shit, I-I'm so so sorry, I-I didn't mean t--"

I was cut off by Mizu returning the gesture. Fluttering my eyes closed, I reached up with both of my hands and dug them into her silk like locks. Pulling away, she found my eyes and smiled. It was soft, genuine, and for the first time, full of love and admiration for someone.

"Don't be sorry," she whispered. "I should have done that first, but you beat me to it."

I giggled, "You know, I was right."

"About what?"

"That you look gorgeous with your hair down. Or handsome. Whichever one you prefer."

"I prefer yours," she smirked.

My eyes widened and blinked rapidly as blush crawled onto my cheeks.

"I--uhm--uhhh," my mind went blank.

She chuckled and pulled away, "Thank you, Y/N."

"Y-You're welcome, Mizu," I said once I gathered my thoughts.

Sitting beside her, I set my hand down. Looking down from the corner of her eye, Mizu placed her hand on top of mine. Smiling, I leaned against her shoulder, placing my head on hers. Hers rested against mine and both of our eyes closed, taking in one another as we fell asleep, getting some much needed rest.

[cherry-queens-blog]

DATE ON THE BEACH

Summary- You're getting ready for the date with all might though you don't know where he planned to take you for the date.

Content- All might X Reader, Beach date, Picnic, Date, Enjoying the day, Cute, Cuddling, Holding hands, Playing in the sand, Splashing, Romantic, One shot.

Note- Sorry it took me so long to get on part two of the first fanfic I was thinking of a cute date that isn't the typical dinner date or anything lol. I wanted it to be super cute and just adorable as hell. There is no smut or anything like that in this fic. I do have a smut one in mind for shigaraki though after I get on requests and get those done. Anyway hope you guys enjoy!

All morning you had felt so excited. It wasn't just because you finally found someone that really liked you for you but it was also cause it was Toshinori aka All might the number one pro hero who asked you out. You constantly felt butterflies in your stomach thinking about how the date will go with him and what the date might be. You had no idea what he had planned for this date but you knew for a fact you just couldn't wait for it. You picked out a nice long sleeve, flowy dress, that had a slit up the leg. You picked it for the classy but sexy look and you knew for a fact he'd love it on you, maybe even drool at that sight of you in it.

When two O clock rolled around you stripped down and hopped in the shower, washing your hair, body and face before getting out. You wrapped yourself in the towel before brushing your teeth really quick. You plugged in your hair dryer and started drying your hair while keeping an eye on the time to make sure the time didn't fly by to fast and you didn't have time to do your makeup and hair at all.

After finishing up you stepped out of the bathroom, slipping some clothes on to do your makeup in so you didn't risk getting makeup on your dress and have to end up picking a different one. You headed back into the bathroom pulling your makeup down and got started. You went with nice classy colors for your makeup. You still kept an eye on the time which it was now almost 3:00 so you needed to hurry cause he was gonna be there any minute now.

Once you finished your makeup you threw your clothes off in a bit of a hurry and slipped the dress on. Once the dress was on you heard your doorbell.

"shit I don't have my shoes on yet"

You said to your self as you grabbed a pair of flats and quickly slipped them on your feet before rushing out of the room. You hadn't even done your hair yet but oh well.

"COMING"

You shouted as you made your way to the door, opening it to see him standing there in a nice button up shirt, a nice black tie, and some pants. In his arms he held flowers, a basket, and a blanket. When he seen you though it was like his mind just died. He couldn't find the words for how beautiful you looked to him. You were just more than beautiful you were like a goddess he was looking at. His heart rate couldn't help but quicken seeing you, a light dust of pink painted over his cheeks.

"Wow'

He finally said. His reaction was exactly how you thought it would be and honestly you really thought it was cute how he looked right now.

"oh uh here I brought these for you"

He said handing you the flowers which made your heart flutter a little. They were beautiful and smelled amazing.

"oh wow.. thank you. Let me put these in some water really quick and then I'm ready"

"Alright no worries please, take your time Y/N"

He waited as you took the flowers and put them in a vase of water before you grabbed your keys and stepped out, shutting the door behind you and locking it. Toshinori set the blanket over the basket that was sitting on his left arm before holding his arm to you for you to take. You smiled and held his arm as you two started to walk together since the beach wasn't far from your house.

"I hope you've been well Y/N"

"Oh I have have. I hope you have been as well Toshinori?"

"Yes though just been busy lately."

"I understand that'

You both had walked till you both had finally arrived to the beach. There was a nice breeze in the air, the sound of the waves, the birds flying and walking on the sand. You stopped for a moment and so did Toshinori as you pulled your slip ons off so you could walk barefoot on the beach. You were glad you picked the right dress just not exactly the best shoes for the date. You both pick a nice spot to set up at. Toshinor lays the blanket down and sets the basket down on the blanket as you took a seat on it.

"I'm not one to drink but I will for this date"

He said as he pulled out a nice bottle of wine with two glasses from the basket. He really wanted this date to be as nice for you as he could and it was very obvious he was willing to put in so much effort if it meant you were happy to be here with him.

"You don't have to drink Toshinori so don't worry alright?"

He looked at you and his expression was soft with a warm smile on his face. He knew he didn't have to go the extra mile but he wanted to for you.

"Yeah.. haha I know Y/N but I want you to be happy"

"I am happy Toshi"

That made him very happy to hear that. He still poured you both a glass of wine before pulling out some sandwiches and setting them down. You took a drink of the wine and it was really good. You could tell it wasn't that super cheap wine, it was definitely a nice rich wine that was amazing. He unwrapped the sandwiches and handed you, yours first.

"I hope I got ones you like"

He said sounding a little nervous hoping he didn't mess up at all but your smile said he didn't and made him feel a relief.

"You didn't get the wrong ones. These are actually the best ones"

You replied and he chuckled a little as you said that.

"I'm glad I got the right ones then"

Toshinori was still nervous since this was a first for him taking a girl he fell head over heels for and he still worried he didn't mess anything up. You both ate and drank the wine when you looked out towards the ocean seeing the sun starting to set. It was a beautiful view that's for sure. You looked over at Toshinori who was picking up and setting the sandwich stuff and glasses back in the basket.

"Hey wanna play in the sand?"

You asked. He looked at you with a smile as a faint laugh left him.

"Sure if you'd like to"

You smiled before getting up with Toshinori and heading a little out sitting a few feet by the water. He sat by you curious what you were wanting to do in the sand when you started to make a sandcastle. It was almost like being kids again which was fun. That was until you got up while he was still working on the sandcastle you both were building. You went over to the water and scooped some water into your hands before running over to him and throwing it on him. He was surprised by the cold water but laughed.

"So that's how it is haha"

He got up himself and started running after you, you both were laughing and just having fun on the date. You ran a bit into the cold water with him following before he pulled you into a hug, your back pressed against his chest but he had lost his balance and you both went down falling into the water. You both sat up laughing at what had just happened when he looked at you.

"you alright Y/N?"

"Hahaha yeah I'm okay how about you?"

He smiled feeling his heart flutter again at your precious, beautiful smile. Even soaked you still looked so stunning. He couldn't believe this was happening to him, how he landed such a beautiful woman like you to have fun with and just relax with.

"I'm glad to hear that"

He said standing up and holding his hand out to you. You took his hand and he gently helped you up. It had been so long since he got to have this much fun and he's glad it's with you. He held your hand as you both walked out of the water as the sun started to set further in the sky. It started to get pretty cold now as the wind started to pick up a tiny bit. You both went and sat on the blanket to watch the sun fully set in the sky as the waves rolled up onto the sand.

"It's beautiful isn't it?"

"Yes. Yes it is. Just as beautiful as you are Y/N"

You blushed at his response when you started to shiver a bit. Toshinori quickly noticed you were getting cold and moved closer to you and put his arm around you to help keep you warm. You laid your head on his shoulder as the sun lowered before disappearing completely. It was now night out. You both laid back for a bit with you snuggled up against him.

"I really enjoyed today"

Toshinori looked at you with a gentle expression. He felt so happy that you had fun with him today.

"I'd love to do this again sometime."

"I'm glad to hear that. I'd love to do this again as well Y/N"

You smiled at him looking at him in his eyes as he looked at yours for a good few seconds before you both leaned in, both of your lips making contact. You both could feel the butterflies in your stomachs as you both kissed for the first time. He held you close to him as the kiss continued with the sound of waves in the back ground. Once you both pulled away, you both had that tint of pink painted on your faces. This was a night Toshinori will cherish forever.

"It's getting pretty cold out. Did you want to start heading back Y/N?."

He asked. Though he didn't want this to end at all he didn't want you getting sick with you both still being wet and sitting in the cold. He didn't care if he ended up getting sick but he really didn't want you getting sick after this.

"Yeah I should be getting home and into dry clothes. The dress is a bit uncomfortable when it's wet haha"

"Alright let's get you back home then"

You both got up with him helping you up. He grabbed the blanket shaking it off making sure no sand was stuck to it before putting it around you. Even if the blanket is still a bit damp as well it was better than nothing to help keep you somewhat warm. He put the basket on his left arm and you grabbed your shoes before taking his hand. You couldn't wait to be able to do this again with him.

@isabeauwolf

[ambrosiagourmet]

Gimme a Kabru for the ask meme

Ahhhh hi I'm still doing this I will finish them let's go

Kabru!!

First impression

Once again gonna go for a pre-reading impression, bc honestly I really think the fandom osmosis impression I got was so off imho. So, Kabru first impression:

what if there was a hater. in the dungeon. :0

Impression now

I LOVE HIM... He's constantly agonizing over everything he does and the impact it could have and the big picture and its gonna burn him out completely someday if he doesn't slow down and realize he's allowed to live for himself sometimes. In a story chock full of survivor's guilt he is Mister Survivor's Guilt. He feels like he needs to do something to earn his existence, and that's such a heavy burden he has put on himself. Ough.

Favorite moment

There are a ton of little parts from the story that I love, but I actually want to highlight this bit from one of the Adventurer's Bible comics that lives with me:

I don't know, there's just something... something about it. Allowing Mithrun the privacy of his own story is such a strange kindness. Who else but Kabru could have thought to provide it?

Kabru, who wears Utaya across his shoulders everywhere he goes, but also never shares much about his mom, his food, the things he misses from Utaya. Or the superstitions about his eye color, and the ways that even the place he misses most wasn't always a kind home to him. Kabru, who has learned exactly how to cut up the piece of his own story in order to be able to hold the weight of them all and do the things he needs to do.

Kabru looks at Mithrun, someone who doesn't have the ability to care for himself, and provides this service to him. Offers him privacy. Privacy. The people around Mithrun have cared for him for years, but who has given him this?? Food, sleep, water, basic hygiene... but Mithrun deserves dignities beyond that too, even if he isn't able to ask for them.

And Kabru takes his eye for creating palatable stories, which he has often used to make himself fit in or force himself through unpleasant things, and uses it to help Mithrun in a way that no one else had.

Idea for a story

I don't have anything super specific here, just a GREAT DESIRE for post-canon Kabru stuff. I want to see him and Marcille become friends. I want to see him struggle to figure himself out now that his driving motive has been resolved. I want to see him forced to consider that he can't always do things for the Bigger Picture. I want to see how his relationships with his party members change. I want to see the adventures of the Laios - Marcille - Kabru trio. Pleaaaaaaase

Unpopular opinion

He's not just a hater in a dungeon.......

Like for sure his feelings about Laios are complicated and boy can they include Haterism, but also he is like the only person who vouches for Laios at certain points. Kabru intentionally chooses to have faith in him at several key moments, and the ending of the story hinges upon that faith.

I think he's got a very black and white way of looking at things sometimes, and he likes to be in control. This is where the haterism can come in.

BUT there's so much more than just that to him. Kabru is an extremely caring person in general. He notices details about people and often uses those observations to care for them - Mithrun in the example above, for instance, or the way that he thinks about how hard it would be for Rin to go back to the elves when considering whether to hand the dungeon over to them. He has a strong sense of justice. He is loyal to his promises.

I just wish those elements of his personality were given more significance in the fandom :/

Favorite relationship

Gotta go with him and Mithrun here. They bring out such interesting sides to each other. Some of my favorite moments are them surviving in the dungeon together, and of course that comic is one of my fave moments. The way Kabru understands him and continually chooses to use that understanding to provide kindness and support to Mithrun... it's good.

But also I think that Mithrun gets to a core part of Kabru that Kabru usually tries to keep hidden. Some part of the survivor's guilt, I think... the way Kabru is driven by a sense of obligation to a thing he Cannot Ever Bring Back.

They both pull something out of the other that no one else does, at least over the course of the story.

Favorite headcanon

Hmmmmm... does "he and Marcille will be besties someday" count? I think it counts. I love the idea of them being gossip-heads.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Changing Seasons

A brief interlude of sorts before we get into the next big plot section! Sprinkles of some things here and there, thank you to @gigi-the-bear for the watering can :)

also! thank you so so so much to @shiphappen-s!!! you're an icon and i adore you

anyways let's watch ethan realize with horror that he's still crushing on chris >:)

Read on Ao3

Warnings: none

Pairings: winterfield (we're getting there)

Word Count: 4170

It takes a period of readjustment for Ethan to get used to the whole, y'know, having-a-body thing. Rose is more than happy to help.

It's not a cell, Chris had said gruffly when he brought Ethan to this tiny room, it's yours. You can—you know, decorate it and all that. If you want to.

Ethan had known that Chris isn't the most emotionally available of people, but having him shuffle awkwardly in the door sounding like an RA explaining the concept of a dorm room was just this side of borderline hysterical. He'd thanked Chris and asked about the bathroom, the laundry, all the normal things he'd ask if he was staying at someone's house, and when Chris had left, it had taken approximately three minutes for Rose to text him saying that yes, she knows the rooms here are bare as hell and yes, she was figuring out a way to drag him out to go shopping.

"I don't think you and I have the same going-off-base permissions, sweetie," he'd tried to say, but Rose had glared at him.

"I didn't have them either until Chris yelled at people. He'll yell at them some more."

No, he won't, Ethan had tried to say, but he'd just smiled and let Rose pepper him with questions about what he wanted his room to look like. Apparently there were things he hadn't even considered when it came to interior design—he'd never really had someone ask him what his color palette was before, aside from at his wedding, but that wasn't something he wanted to think about. Not after his conversation with Mia.

God, Mia…he loves her, he knows he'll always love her, but things were…he's not sure he'll ever be able to reconcile the two halves of Mia he thought he'd known. One of them had never been real, not entirely. He'd been part of her fantasy, hadn't he? That dream of a white picket fence, happy marriage, he'd been part of that. An accessory at worst, a willful fool at best. And learning the truth, diving into this world of bioterrorism and wretched creatures headfirst, just for the chance at having some of that back, then having something, anything, it was a rude awakening.

And, you know, dying. That'll put a damper on anything.

"You're drifting off again."

"Sorry, sweetie."

Rose huffs and leans against his side. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and holds her close. He can't say he's upset at how cuddly his daughter is, not when Chris had muttered something about Rose not having a lot of physical affection. Plus, he's missed out on sixteen years of cuddles. He's gotta start making up for those somehow.

"What were you thinking about?"

"Just…wondering how my life got here."

She shifts, putting her chin on his shoulder. "Yeah. I get that. Are you…do you regret any of it?"

Wow. Going hard with the big questions. "I don't know, Rosie. I'm…I wouldn't give you up for anything, you know that, right?"

"I know, Dad."

"And that's—that's kinda it for me." It's not, and they both know it, but Ethan will not make his daughter deal with his bullshit if she doesn't have to. She's his kid. That's not her job. "That's what's most important to me."

Rose squirms, wrapping her arms around his waist. The two of them sit there for a while, just enjoying each other's presences. Then she snorts.

"What?"

"I just—sorry, it's stupid."

"I love stupid."

"I was thinking about how we're gonna decorate your room and how mushrooms are like, everywhere right now?"

"They are?"

"Yeah. It's like a—it's just a thing right now."

"Is it anything like that weird mustache thing that happened years ago?"

"A what? What weird mustache thing?"

"I don't even really know what it was, it was just—they were everywhere. Like the stereotypical mustache was on T-shirts and coffee mugs and keychains…it was bizarre."

"Wait—" Rose sits up— "like, just a mustache? Like the—oh, God, what's an old thing with a mustache—"

"Hey!" He shoves her lightly. "Who're you calling old?"

"You, you old man! Was it like—the Monopoly guy's mustache?"

"I can't tell whether I'm more upset or relieved that Monopoly was your go-to 'old' thing."

"Okay, Monopoly's not, like, that old but it's an old board game and almost no one plays the classic one anymore. There's so many of them now."

"How many of them are there now? It's gotta be in the thousands."

"Easily. But was I right? Is it that sort of mustache?"

"Basically." He shakes his head, holds his arm back out for her to nestle against his side. "But I interrupted you. Mushrooms?"

Rose settles back against him, her hand gripping the edge of his shirt. She probably doesn't realize she's doing it, but the feeling warms his chest all the same. "Yeah. And I thought it'd be funny if your stuff was all mushroom-themed."

Ethan chuckles. "I think we'd give Chris a heart attack."

She snorts. "Imagine his face."

"Does he still do that thing where he's trying to be sincere—"

"—and he just looks really constipated?"

It's Ethan's turn to snort, turning his face to cover his mouth as Rose cackles freely next to him. "Maybe one mushroom thing, then. Just for fun."

"You're gonna need, like, boring stuff too. Like clothes and sheets and stuff. Wait—" and suddenly she sits bolt upright, turning to face him— "what about a computer and that sort of thing? Chris was only able to get them to give me a laptop is 'cause my teachers said I'd need it for school—"

"Hey, hey, sweetie, settle down," he soothes, quickly bringing her back into his arms—God, he's never taking getting to hold his daughter for granted again— "we'll figure that out when we get there, okay? It's okay, calm down, I don't need a computer right now anyway."

"But then what're you gonna do? Just stare at the wall all day?"

She makes a good point. But he's got a sneaking suspicion that the BSAA is going to be way less inclined to do him any favors versus Rose.

A problem for another day.

"Maybe I'll start reading again. Had a few books on my list that I never got to check out."

"Like what?"

They talk about books for a while. It's nice. It's really nice. It almost feels like they haven't missed sixteen years in the worst way possible. They're just a father and daughter, sitting on his bed, talking about books.

He could get used to this.

***

Rose has a shit-eating grin on her face as she holds out the bag. It's the only thing that's been vaguely gift-wrapped. Ethan takes it, warily glancing at Chris over her shoulder. Chris offers the most exasperated I-Have-No-Idea shrug he's ever seen and well, looks like he's on his own.

He gives her a narrowed-eye look as he carries it over to his desk—they did give him a desk, a notebook, and some actual books, to his surprise, and Chris had mumbled something about getting him a laptop too. He peers through the tissue paper and muffles a snort.

"Okay, so you clearly understand why this is funny." Chris looks between him and a now cackling Rose as Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose. He quickly schools his expression into something approximating neutral.

"How much do you know about taking care of plants, Chris?"

"Uh—not that much."

Rose quickly catches on and makes herself stop laughing. "You know, how it's important to make sure they have enough sunlight? Nutrition?"

"Water?"

Chris looks back at him with a deadpan expression. Without breaking his gaze, Ethan slowly lifts the watering can from the bag, turning it so Chris can see the cartoony mushroom on one side. Chris's eyes dart to it.

He snorts.

He tries to cover it up with a cough but Rose calls out a triumphant ha! and swats his shoulder. And then, well, then Ethan can't stop himself from laughing at it too, proudly putting the watering can on one corner of his desk and holding out his arms to Rose. She lets him hug her, still giggling, as Chris shakes his head.

"I gotta water my dad, Chris."

"I was considering asking for a humidifier in here. It's really dry."

Chris is about to say something when there's another voice from down the hall. He turns and Leon appears next to him. "What're you laughing at?"

"Those two." Chris waves at them.

"Oh? What's the joke?" Rose, still giggling, picks up the watering can to show him. Leon looks at it for about two seconds before he's nodding sagely. "Nice new decor, Winters. Always thought you were a real fungi."

Ethan's grin widens. Rose groans and Chris just glares at Leon like he's done the worst thing in the world. "I was thinking of asking for a humidifier too."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah, but it's gonna have to be a small one. You know, considering there's not mushroom in here."

"Oh my God, shut up," Rose grumbles. "That was bad."

"C'mon, sweetie, don't be a spore loser." He chuckles when she punches his shoulder.

"Chris, make them stop."

"Rose, I'm gonna tell you this and you need to understand that it's the goddamn truth, okay?" Chris folds his arms. "I've seen a lot of impressive things done over the years, but nothing in this world or the next one is gonna be able to stop Leon from making stupid jokes. Nothing."

"You're making it sound like you don't appreciate my sense of humor, Redfield."

"Yeah, it really sounds like he wants you to button up." That one gets him blank looks. "The early part of a mushroom's life cycle is called a button."

"Dad!" Rose groans as Leon's eyes gleam.

"You and I are gonna be really good friends, Ethan."

"No cap?"

"No, no, no." Rose claps her hands over her ears. "You can't make a shitty mushroom pun out of not using slang correctly, stop it."

"I've missed out on sixteen years of embarrassing you, sweetie, I gotta start making up for that somehow."

Rose scowls at him without any real heat and makes a grab for the watering can. Ethan snatches her up around the waist, laughing as she squeals in surprise. It quickly turns into squeaky fits of laughter as he peppers kisses all over her face until she's batting weakly at him to make him stop.

"This is my fault for getting you the watering can, isn't it?"

He presses one last smacking kiss to her forehead. "Yep. Totally is, sweetie."

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Chris relax a little as he and Leon watch them. Leon leans over and mutters something too quiet for him to hear, but Chris huffs and turns away—wait.

Wait.

There's no way that Chris Redfield is blushing right now, right?

But no sooner does he turn to look, Chris is already blustering something about training or going somewhere and hustling them down the hall and Ethan barely has time to glance at Leon, who just claps him on the shoulder and starts talking with Rose about…something.

It lingers in his head for the rest of the day. Chris couldn't have been blushing. Not only does that completely go against everything he knows about Chris Redfield, but why would Chris be blushing? Leon doesn't strike him as the type of person to say something crude or crass just to get a reaction out of someone, and Chris doesn't seem like the type of person to get flustered by that sort of thing anyway. Maybe it was something embarrassing Chris did? But then why remind him of it right then?

He shakes his head, resolving to not think about Chris Redfield blushing anymore. It probably didn't happen anyway.

It also is probably completely unrelated to the small humidifier that turns up outside his door a few days later. The one that fits right on the edge of his desk next to the watering can.

He feels Eveline shift slightly under his skin and it feel suspiciously like she's rolling her eyes at him.

***

Ethan tries not to pay attention to the files he can see over the doctors' shoulders when they run their tests on him, but sometimes he can't help it. Especially when said doctors are doing a really bad job of whispering about his similarities to someone they're only referring to as W.

Which, really, isn't all that clever. He can tell it's short for someone's name. Part of him wants to tell them that they need to pick another letter because his last name begins with a 'w' too, but that would probably just make them clam up and insist on running more tests. And with his laptop still under heavy negotiation, frankly, he's bored. He's not gonna blow his chances of learning something interesting.

He manages to sneak one decent glance at a screen as he's walked back to his room. There are two files open on the monitor, one with his face, one with another that looks…vaguely familiar. His eyes dart to the name at the top.

Albert Wesker.

He's pushed out of the door before he can see anymore—or let them know that he did see it—but the name rings a bell somewhere. He's pretty sure he's heard Chris mention the name once or twice, and it came up in some of the reports he'd managed to glimpse before Romania, but something…something else.

When he's in his room, he feels Eveline shift like she's trying to show him something. He closes his eyes, lying back on his bed, and feels her start to nudge different memories toward the forefront of his brain. He's back in the village, moving through the barren, snow-covered ground, across that cold bridge to Heisenberg's factory. He can't help the slight swoop in his gut as the images flash past, hands clenching and missing fingers throbbing with phantom pain. Eveline pauses, unsure, but he pushes onwards.

He settles on the memory of that giant wall with all the photos on it. His heart clenches at seeing the Lords again, Mother Miranda, God, even that picture of Mia with Rose…

Focus, he can almost hear Eveline hiss.

He feels his gaze drawn up to a corner, past a picture of Chris's face—had he even noticed that the first time around? Heisenberg had called Chris a boulder-punching asshole, so clearly he sort of knew him, but why was he there? He keeps going, looking at the photos connected to Chris, until he lands on a photo of a man with sunglasses.

His eyes fly open.

It had been a different photo, to be sure, taken way after the other one, but the same man.

Who was he? Someone related to Chris, obviously, though probably not family—then again, he hadn't even known Chris had a sister until recently, and no, they were very much not done with that conversation. If the doctors had his file…a bioweapon, then.

Eveline shifts again and this time he can feel her hesitance. He tries to reach back, reassure her somehow. This time the memory is far more visceral; Ethan winces when he catches sight of a giant Eveline looming over him in the sunlight of Louisiana. It's blurred with Eveline's memory of it too, of seeing him there on the ground, of being riddled with pain—this time it's his turn to get them to focus, we're not there, we're not there, it's over, it's okay.

His—their?—gaze lands on the weapon.

The Albert, he remembers someone calling it and—oh.

Oh, this was complicated complicated.

He figures that probably means it's a good idea not to try to talk to Chris about this right now, and definitely not to tell him about that picture on Heisenberg's wall.

At least not yet.

***

He's wrenched out of a deep sleep with the feeling that something is wrong. He sits up, scrabbling at his chest with blunt fingertips, trying to figure out what's going on, closing his eyes tight to try and see—

Oh. Oh, his baby's crying.

He squeezes his eyes shut and pushes, trying to focus on finding Rose in the network, letting her know that he's here, he's right here, he's gonna take care of her, and he can feel the responding twinge from her that she can see his words. Her voice sounds as it always does like this, as though she's speaking through bubbles.

"Dad?"

hi sweetie, are you okay?

Instead of replying, she fumbles for something and a few seconds later, his phone rings. He scrabbles for it.

"Hey, Rose? Rose, sweetie, what's going on? Are you okay? Did you have a nightmare?"

She sniffles—oh, his poor baby—and he can hear fabric rustling. "Y-yeah."

"I'm sorry, sweetie. It's over now, you're okay. Everything's okay."

"I—I miss you."

His chest aches and he's up and out of bed in a second, going to the door before remembering that it's locked, they won't let him out without an escort, and he's overwhelmed with a wave of uselessness. The world narrows down to the cold metal under his hand and the sound of his daughter sobbing through the phone. "I'm right here, Rosie, I'm right—I'm here, okay? I can't—I can't come to you—I can't get out but I'm here, okay? I'm right here."

"C-can I—" she sobs— "can I come to you? Please?"

"Yes, yeah, of course you can, sweetie, come—come here—c'mere, I'll—how do you get to me?"

"Ask—ask the—is there still a guard outside your door?"

Yes, as a matter of fact, there was. A guard that was currently asking if he was alright. He thinks he manages something about Rose having a nightmare, wanting to come see him, please, let me see my daughter, and too many minutes later there's a muffled sob on the other side and he's going to break this door down if it means getting Rose in his arms—

The door flies open and there's a bundle of fabric and blonde hair throwing itself at his chest and he wraps his arms tightly around his baby girl and pulls her close, stumbling back to sit on his bed, his mouth pressed to her ear as he shushes her and rocks her back and forth.

"I've got you now, sweetie, I'm right here, see? You got me, I've got you, you're safe. No monsters can get you. I'm gonna protect you. I'll keep you safe."

Rose just sniffles and buries her head in the crook of his neck. He runs his hand through her hair, scratching the back of her scalp, kissing her temple. He pulls her into his lap and the two of them just breathe each other in for long moments. Eventually, she sags into his grip and wraps her arms around him too.

"Hey, Rosie," he mumbles, "you feel a little better?"

"Mhm." She sniffles. "I really, really missed you."

"I missed you too, sweetie."

"I wish—I wish we didn't have to do all of this."

"All of what?" Rose just flaps a hand at the door—ah. Right. The door that's still open with the guard looking in on them with a worried look. "Oh."

"You got Jack, though. He's nice."

"Yeah. Jack's nice." One of the few guards that actually seems to treat Ethan like a person. Like he doesn't agree that Ethan's basically locked in like a test mouse. "Thanks, Jack."

"I'm not gonna keep a kid from her dad," Jack says, smiling as Rose's little pink nose peeks out over the crook of Ethan's arm. "Are you guys alright?"

"Better now."

"Better now," Ethan agrees. "Are…can Rose stay here?"

Jack sighs. "I have to let the captain know that she's here, but I'm pretty sure he'll be fine with it."

Rose curls up a little more as Ethan starts moving them toward the middle of the bed, fussing with the covers until she's tucked in up to her chin with his arms around her. He can hear Jack talking quietly with Chris on the phone, glancing at them every so often until he's laughing at something.

"No, Captain, you don't need to come, they're alright." He raises his eyebrows. "You wanna talk to them yourself?"

Without waiting for a response, he walks over and holds out the phone. Ethan takes it, holding it close so Rose can hear too. "Chris?"

"Ethan." He can almost hear Chris sagging in relief. "Are you both okay? Is Rose alright?"

"She's okay. Just a nightmare."

"'M fine, Chris," Rose mumbles, snuggling into Ethan's side, "I'm okay now."

"Okay. Good. That's…that's good." There's the soft rustle of fabric over the phone. "Are…you should stay with Ethan tonight."

"Can I?"

"Shit, Rose, yeah, stay with your dad after you've had a nightmare. That's fine."

Rose slumps against him in relief and Ethan can't help but do that same. "Thanks, Chris."

Chris grumbles something that he can't quite make out before he's wishing them a good night's rest and asking him to hand the phone back to Jack. He tells Chris to sleep well too, handing the phone back to Jack, who winks and closes the door.

"Do you think you can go back to sleep?"

Rose shuffles. "Maybe."

"You wanna cuddle with me anyway?"

Rose doesn't reply—teenagers don't typically like to admit that they want to cuddle with their dads—but she snuggles right up to him anyway and he grins, kissing her forehead. "Dad?"

"Yeah, sweetie?"

"You're not gonna leave again, are you?"

Oh, his poor baby…

He shifts so he can take Rose's face in his hands, leaning down so he can kiss her cheek properly. "No, sweetie. I'm not going anywhere."

He thinks, as Rose finally starts to drift back to sleep, that he might've just threatened the universe.

Oh, well. It should know better by now.

***

He honestly thought he was over it.

He thought he'd burned and salted the earth. He thought he'd razed it so nothing could ever grow there again. He thought the world had done a pretty good job of beating it into his head that it was impossible, stupid, hopeless.

But then they were outside in one of those small courtyard things one afternoon. They'd been talking about nothing, not really, and Leon and Rose had started talking about this movie they'd seen. Something about assassins and dogs. Then onto something about tropes and story structure and character arcs, and then Leon had mentioned it.

Something called 'fridging.'

"Wait, what? What's that?"

"You know, how a male character's wife is always killed or something to further his man-pain story?" Rose had flipped her hair over her shoulder. "Sometimes it's his sister or his mother or something like that?"

"Basically the character dies for no other reason than to further the male character's storyline," Leon had added, "like…oh, God, like every action movie ever."

"It happens a lot in superhero movies? Or in, like, certain types of TV shows?"

"Give me an example."

"Uh…did you ever watch that old show about the drug lords?"

All three of them had groaned. "That show isn't old, Rose," Chris had said.

"It came out, like, more than ten years ago, that's old."

Leon had winced. "Yeah, though, uh, Jane in Breaking Bad, that's an example."

"Or like—most superhero movies? When the female character makes this, like, big sacrifice that's supposedly an arc for her but really it's just to get her out of the way so that the male characters can feel bad about it?"

"Huh." Ethan had stared at the ground for a few seconds. "Did I get fridged?"

Silence.

"…what?"

"If our lives were a movie or whatever, did I—did I die to fuel Chris's man pain?"

Now, in the grand scheme of things, was this an appropriate thing to say? No, probably not. Was it kind of insensitive? Probably more than kind of. Did it make any sense once he said it out loud? Only a tiny bit.

But Chris had burst out laughing.

Fully bent over, gasping for air, tears in his eyes, laughing so hard it echoed off the buildings around them. Then Rose had started laughing too. Then Leon. Then all four of them were struggling to breathe as Ethan kept going— "you really had your own story line and everything! I broke your nose once and then practically died in your arms—"

"Stop," Chris wheezes, "stop, Ethan, you're gonna kill me."

"I don't think there's a fridge big enough for you, buddy."

And he's off again, head thrown back, and—and—

And Ethan can't help but stare.

Because Chris looks years younger. Sure, there are still wrinkles where there didn't use to be, but they're laugh lines. And his cheeks are bright red from exertion and he's grinning at Ethan like he still can't believe he can laugh this hard, and then it's softening slightly but he's still smiling like he's glad Ethan isn't dead, like he's glad he's back, like he's…he's…

He thought it was over.

He comes to the screeching conclusion that it isn't.