#drastic letting them be buried in the ruins

[doefated]

I love my Asriel Dremurr lives AU’s and I will stand on this hill until the day I die

[wroteclassicaly]

Gator definitely gets off on eating your pussy. Not only lapping up what you give him, but the praises as well.

He’s eager and enthusiastic, a quick learner with your guidance. Mostly your hands tugging that coiffed mane into caramel colored disarray - slick and greasy between your fingers from the gel he layers on top. He ruts his slender hips into the floor, which you permit the poor and pathetic boy to do. He’s uncaring that you don’t shave at times, eagerly inhaling the creamy curls like a wildly starved creature, his nose buried in them, nudging your clit. Learning not to jackhammer your walls with his thick fingers, now that had been a task and a half.

Letting him know that what he’s seen and heard, just because he’s a guy — it doesn’t mean he knows jack shit. And he’s gotten better, to his credit. It’s never reached that point you’d wanted, not until much later.

He was humping himself into your couch cushions, panting and licking at you like he hadn’t eaten in days. His fingers were moving, searching, but when he’d ventured a little farther in, pushed up to scale that thick trigger finger — you’d shot up into an arch that scared his dumbass half to death.

“What?! What the fuck did I do?” Stubble clad face shining with your essence, brown eyes blown to hell, mossy shards laying about in the abyss of the midnight black pupils, he stared, chest heaving in the simple black, tight t-shirt. His uniform attire discarded, with the exception of his pants, boots, and top.

Your answer was to shove his head back down, tugging at the roots, nails clawing at his scalp. Words followed momentarily. “Your finger. Don’t you dare move it, Tillman! Add the other one and curl —“

“Curl? Am I spelling something out, I don’t get it —“ His hand had started to reach for the vape on his tighter fitting pocket, spare set of digits attempting to adjust.

“If you reach for that disgusting ass vape, I swear I will leave you with balls so blue that you’ll lose all ability to function for the rest of the day!” You cut in.

When he’s not occupied with your pussy, of course the idiot wants that gross ass thing. He quickly calmed himself and did as told.

You weren’t aware that he possessed it within him to make your thighs shake or your eyes roll back this much. And as you began to hear the wetness increase between your legs drastically, you smirked and used one hand to drag his spare to your breast, your thighs tightening to hold him and that mouth in place. “I’m gonna fucking soak you.” Was all you got out before one more stretching drag of his fingers over that spot and swipe of his tongue against your clit brought your over the edge, and the translucent liquid spurted from your cunt.

His brown eyes had widened comically, but he regained, following your quick direction not to stop. And that’s when he did something unexpected… by far. He opened his mouth in the direction of your squirt, fucking his hips into the bed in a sloppier, messier direction, hand slapping and squeezing your tit in alternation, fingers not slowing down until you couldn’t take it anymore and you became spent. He came moments later, whining, biting into the meat of your inner thigh, ruining another pair of those Wal-Mart camouflage khakis.

“I thought that only happened in porn? Like a pussy party trick or something.” He’d said, marveling in the after math, blowing a cloud of that acidic fruit in your direction.

You rolled your eyes at his terminology. You didn’t want to let him know you hadn’t ever been able to do it before. After all, he’s still your student.

Yeah, you’re a damn good teacher…

[thereoncewasagirlnamedjane]

you’re a mean one.

‣ pairing — lloyd hansen x doctor f!reader

‣ contents — oneshot, coarse language, rom-com vibes??? dark but soft??? new year special, allusions to violence, blood/injury, fluff, and i would say morally grey protagonists but tbh there’s really nothing grey about them.

‣ summary — they say that there’s nothing more frightening than a pissed off, gun-wielding, profusely-bleeding lloyd hansen who’s trying to be nice… except, maybe, for his equally unstable doctor.

‣ word count — 1.8k (omg finally a short one!!)

‣ notes — this is my first time writing for lloyd and it was so much fun, even if writing a rom-com style piece for a couple of psychopaths is still extremely hard lmao. i might make this AU a ~thing~ later, although i’m still a bit unsure 👀 anyway, happy new year, my loves! bonus points if you can pinpoint my pushing daisies reference 🤭

✩ read on ao3 ✩ janie’s masterlist ✩ library blog

Lloyd stares down at the brown file folder lying open on the kitchen counter, your picture pinned to the inside flap, pondering how quickly even the most carefully laid plans can change. 

Because you were supposed to be the means to an end. He’s been doing this a very long time and he’s since learned, that for men like Sierra Six, it always comes down to sentiment. According to Carmichael’s intel, before you left the CIA for the private sector in search of more, let’s say, lucrative work, you and Court Gentry had quite the history—the sordid romantic kind, the kind that’s the easiest to exploit. 

Lloyd scoffs, his hand tightening around his wine glass. The thought of you in bed with that rogue CIA shitbag makes him physically ill, and he quickly throws back the remainder of his drink to push down the bile that’s rising in his throat. 

You were supposed to be bait. Lloyd was to kidnap you and hold you hostage, use you to lure Gentry out into the open. It’s a classic move; it had worked so swimmingly—er, for the most part—with Fitzroy and his niece, after all. 

But he’s made a devastating miscalculation. 

He failed to consider how different you’d be compared to what was written about you on paper. He already knew you were probably decent, if not outright good, at your job, but to be singlehandedly the most talented surgeon he’s ever met? And he’s met a lot of them, given his line of work. At the very least, you are a million leagues ahead of his previous physician; casualties have gone down drastically since you came around. 

And even though he’s been shot, stabbed, and shivved more times than he can count, he can barely even see the scars those wounds left behind. Your sutures are impeccable, each stitch immaculate and uniform, like a work of fucking art—and he’s not exactly the kind of man who’s known for appreciating art. 

Not to mention you are absolutely fearless. The day you met, when he’d slapped those handcuffs on you and pressed the barrel of his gun to your temple, demanding your cooperation or else he’d splatter the walls with your pretty little brains, you simply smirked and said, “I don’t know, Mr… Hansen, was it? I only bow down to one master.” 

He almost swore. 

“Talk dirty to me then, sweetheart,” he quipped back, his lips brushing over the shell of your ear, not expecting you to lean in closer and press yourself to places you had no business touching. 

“The almighty dollar,” you whispered, your beautiful face then splitting into a wide and menacing grin that matched his own. He felt a shiver shoot up his spine and almost ruined his favourite pair of pants on the spot. Lloyd took a deep whiff then, his nose buried in your hair, the sweet smell of your shampoo mixing with the distinct scent of batshit crazy. It made him a little lightheaded, to be honest. 

To a mercenary like himself who’s loyalty also only ever lay with the highest bidder—and he uses the term “loyalty” with a very large grain of salt, the kind that’s less like a grain and more like those blocks they give cows to lick—you were a woman after his own damn heart. 

He really had no choice then, did he, but to place you under his employ. Not only was he already in the market for a new doctor, he needed someone exactly like you—someone who showed no fear whenever Lloyd lost his temper and threw one of his infamous tantrums. Even Brewer would have to leave the room with a roll of her eyes, but the way her shoulders tensed up belying her discomfort… but you? 

“Calm down and shut the fuck up already,” you’d tell him, looking bored as you carefully inspected your perfectly manicured nails, “or else I’ll pump you so full of ketamine your pathetic little heart explodes.” 

You’d then bat away the barrel of his gun that he points at you in anger, calling him a goddamn drama queen. You never bat an eyelash whenever he returns to the base with someone else’s blood splattered all over his clothes, some of it even dripping from the ends of his hair. 

And on occasions when he does return all banged up and cut open, you’d giggle manically as you unravelled a roll of gauze, bundling the strands together in a tight wad before unceremoniously jamming it into his wounds. He’d scream in surprise and agony, a litany of curses bouncing off the walls while you ordered some nearby men to hold him down by the shoulders. Once it was over, with Lloyd panting through the pain and sweat dotting his hairline, you’d unabashedly boop him on the nose with a proud grin. 

“Here you go, Boss Man,” you’d cackle, pulling off the plastic off a lollipop and shoving the candy into his mouth, sugar mixing with iron on his tongue. “For being such a good boy.” 

If anyone else spoke to him the way you do, they would already be sinking to the bottom of the harbour. Whenever he threatens to end your insolent, insignificant life with a simple wave of his hand—because what exactly did you think happened to his old doctor?—you’d laugh right in his face as though you don’t believe him. 

You really are fucking insane, aren’t you? 

Lloyd rules over his criminal syndicate with an iron fist, a notoriously short fuse of a temper, and a penchant for holding grudges for as long as it suits him. It’s why, even though it’s been weeks now since he last saw signs of Sierra Six in the vicinity, he should still be more than determined to use you to get even. 

All good things to those who wait, after all, and Lloyd definitely knows how to savour a meal. 

He’s killed countless times before and slept soundly afterward, sometimes pulling the trigger so casually he didn’t even bother looking at his target. He’s never had any moral qualms about using people to get what he wants, then disposing of them once they were no longer useful. You wouldn’t be the first, and you certainly would not be the last. He can make it so that nobody even knows you’re missing, and he should, by all means, enjoy every last delicious second of it. 

So, why?

Why, if he is all those things and more, are you somehow the dangerous one? 

Because, a voice taunts him, a voice he’s both thrilled and loathed to realize is none other than his own… wait, what’s the opposite of a conscience? 

You won’t do a damned thing. Not now, and not ever. Lloyd picks up your file and, after a few more seconds of meaningless contemplation, he tosses it into the nearby fireplace. He watches, growing more satisfied by the second, as the flames lick at and curl the edges of the pages, the logs popping and crackling until there’s nothing left but cinders and ashes. 

Because you and everyone else in this godforsaken place is wrapped around her tiny little finger. Everyone at the mansion straightens and practically salutes when you pass, some of them staring after you longingly as you walk by. Men hardened by years of service, disillusioned by a government that was more than happy to use them for their own means and then leave them to fend for themselves once they were back on home soil, simper and whine just for a few seconds of your attention. 

It makes him fucking seethe, so much so that he’s made sure to threaten every single one of them with acid poured into the empty eye sockets—oh, because they will be empty once he’s scooped the eyeballs out of their heads with a dull and rusty melon baller—of the next person who makes heart eyes at you. 

After all, while they say that near death experiences can change a man, it can’t change him that much. 

“You’re not supposed to be drinking yet,” your voice drifts into the kitchen, prompting him to turn around and smirk when he sees you leaning against the doorway, that blasted white coat doing things to him it shouldn’t be. You glance around, noting the lit candles and chilled champagne, smile growing wider when you smell a roast cooking in the oven. “And here I was thinking you only ever call on me when you’re bleeding or dying.” 

“You’re my doctor, that’s kind of how it works,” Lloyd snarks, knowing that, if he’s lucky, you’ll make him pay for that comment later. “And I’m not dyin’ anytime soon, cupcake.” 

“Is that right,” you chortle, striding closer to pour yourself a glass of wine. The movement jostles your coat open enough that he can see your outfit underneath, the same one you’d been wearing when you stitched him up the other night. “So, this isn’t your blood that came out of a giant hole someone cut into your body, staining all of my nice clothes?” 

“Occupational hazard, but if it makes you feel better—” and since when did he care about what made people feel better? “—I’ll buy you a whole new wardrobe,” he offers, eyes trailing up the shape of your thighs, the mouthwatering curve of your hips, his hand finding its way into the delicious dip of your waist. For the first time in his life, Lloyd is seriously considering honouring a promise. 

“You certainly know the way to my heart,” you turn around in his arms and loop one arm around his waist. He yelps when you press at his wound, the skin healing well but still tender. God damn, he thinks as he watches your gaze darken; it actually gets your rocks off when he’s in pain, doesn’t it? “Looks like you’ll live another day, at least.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” he can’t help but quip. The oven timer goes off suddenly, at the exact same time the clock strikes twelve. “Now get your claws off me, you sick freak, or the food’s gonna burn.” 

Despite the colourful nicknames, you seat yourself at the table and softly hum your approval, sounding much more pleased than offended. And Lloyd knows he’s just as crazy as you are, even though there really hadn’t been much doubt, because he proceeds to serve you dinner in full view of his henchmen. He doesn’t think they’ve ever seen him set foot in the kitchen once since he started this little business of his, but tonight they will learn. 

You are his, the Harley to his Joker, a tenacious but not so delicate flower blooming in the concrete. Tonight, he finally makes that clear to everyone who’s around to see, and they all have no choice but to bow down to the newly minted queen of his castle. 

“Happy new year, Boss Man,” you grin, “think we’ll make it to the next one?” 

“Maybe,” he considers before clinking his wine glass against yours, leaning in close enough to taste the dessert off your lips, “no thanks to you, sunshine.” 

It earns him another pinch, but damn it all if he doesn’t like it.

fin.

afterword — not me finding new ways to incorporate food as a love language in my stories 🙈 i can’t help it, okay???

© 2024 by thereoncewasagirlnamedjane

[theink-stainedfolk]

The General's Bride

---

The moonlight spilled into the chamber through narrow latticed windows, painting intricate patterns on the polished stone floor. Jian sat at his desk, a half-finished calligraphy scroll before him, his brush poised in midair. His serene expression belied the storm brewing in his mind. Opposite him stood Luo Xingchen, arms crossed, the tension in his shoulders betraying his impatience.

"You're awfully calm for someone about to set fire to the empire's most respected duke," Xingchen remarked, his voice low.

Jian's lips curved into a faint smile. "A fire, dear Xingchen, is only as useful as the wind that fans it. And I intend to control every gust."

The general frowned, watching as Jian returned to his calligraphy. "You’ve been writing that for hours. I don’t see how poetry will destroy Duke Ming."

Jian’s brush moved in precise strokes, the ink forming elegant characters. "Poetry, no. But words? Words have toppled dynasties." He finished the line with a flourish, set the brush down, and finally turned to face Xingchen. "Tell me, what do you know of Duke Ming’s second son?"

Xingchen stiffened, caught off guard. "Zhao Hui? He’s... ambitious. Reckless. Known for gambling and indulging in pleasures his father disapproves of."

Jian’s smile widened, dark and calculating. "Precisely. A weakness. One that Duke Ming has tried desperately to keep hidden. Imagine if the court were to learn that the good duke has been using imperial funds to cover his son’s debts."

Xingchen’s eyes narrowed. "You have proof?"

Jian gestured toward a neatly folded document on the table. "Receipts from Zhao Hui’s favorite gambling den. Signed by Duke Ming’s steward. It wasn’t difficult to obtain them—everyone has a price."

Xingchen leaned forward, his brows furrowing as he scanned the papers. "This could ruin him. But how do you intend to make it public without implicating yourself?"

Jian rose gracefully, pacing toward the window. The moonlight kissed his pale skin, giving him an almost ethereal glow. "By letting him destroy himself."

Before Xingchen could question him further, there was a knock at the door. Jian called for the visitor to enter, and a young servant stepped in, bowing deeply. "The messenger you requested has arrived, Your Highness."

"Excellent." Jian’s tone was soft, almost languid, but there was a sharpness in his eyes that sent a chill down the servant’s spine. "Send him in."

A wiry man entered, dressed in plain clothes that marked him as one of the emperor’s spies. He dropped to one knee, his head bowed. "Your Highness."

Jian approached him, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator circling its prey. "You will deliver a message to Duke Ming," he said, his voice as smooth as silk. "Inform him that his son owes a substantial debt to a certain gambling house. Let him know that this establishment is... considering taking drastic measures to collect what they’re owed."

The spy hesitated. "Your Highness, won’t the duke simply pay the debt as he always does?"

"Of course he will," Jian replied, his smile sharp. "But this time, he will do so publicly. And when the whispers reach the court, it won’t be long before the emperor himself demands an explanation. By the time Duke Ming realizes he’s been maneuvered, it will be too late."

The spy nodded and left, leaving Xingchen and Jian alone once more. Xingchen stared at him, a mix of awe and unease in his eyes. "You don’t even need to wield a sword to destroy your enemies."

"Swords are crude," Jian said with a dismissive wave. "A truly skilled player uses his enemies' own hands to bury them. Duke Ming has always prided himself on his loyalty to the emperor. Let’s see how loyal he remains when his reputation crumbles."

Xingchen leaned against the wall, his expression thoughtful. "And what if the emperor doesn’t act? What if he lets this pass to preserve Duke Ming’s position in court?"

Jian’s smile didn’t falter. "Then I will introduce the next piece of evidence—the letters Duke Ming sent to the northern warlords, offering support in exchange for their allegiance. Treason, Xingchen. I always ensure there’s a second blade hidden in the sheath."

Xingchen exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "You terrify me sometimes, Jian."

Jian chuckled softly, returning to his desk. "Good. Fear keeps people predictable."

---

A week later, the court was in chaos. Duke Ming stood in the center of the hall, his face pale as the emperor’s voice thundered from the throne. The accusations of misusing imperial funds had spiraled into a full-blown scandal, with half the court calling for his removal. And when the letters were revealed—delivered anonymously, of course—his fate was sealed.

Jian watched from his seat, his expression placid as though the spectacle before him held no significance. But when he glanced toward Xingchen, there was a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes.

Xingchen leaned closer, his voice low. "You planned every step of this, didn’t you?"

Jian’s smile was as sharp as the knife hidden in his hairpin. "I merely set the board, Xingchen. The pieces moved themselves."

---

My ♡s: @paeliae-occasionally @willtheweaver @drchenquill @wyked-ao3 @the-inkwell-variable @corinneglass @seastarblue @frostedlemonwriter-deactivated2

[mysticraven20]

I’m excited to announce that this year I have once again taken part in the @mlbigbang

‘The Situationship’ will begin releasing on Friday 5th January (my birthday 🥳) as a special celebration. Then chapters will follow on a Sunday.

This year I have been paired up with the incredibly talented @peonyfanart and Miraculouslyshellie and I cannot wait to share the artwork for the fic! I am completely overwhelmed by what I’ve seen so far and I cannot thank you both enough for choosing this fic to work on 💗

Also, a huge thank you to my beta @uptoolateart for being magnificent and such a wonderful support, and also Lorena for reading through for inconsistencies in the story line.

Be prepared for 32 chapters of shenanigans, chaos and fun — with a twist

The Situationship

Synopsis: What if ‘the one’ split into two…?

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Lady Luck herself, has finally fallen on her feet after years of playing catch-up. Her boss, Mary Humphries of The House of Humphries, has invited her to be first assistant at an important meeting in London with none other than Gabriel.

But with bad luck seemingly always knocking on her door, she needs to make sure she doesn’t ruin this opportunity — which is easier said than done.

When she mistakes handsome, geeky looking Adrien Agreste as Gabriel’s personal assistant, suddenly she seems to have magicked up some luck.

They could not be more different in personality, yet after surviving a rather interesting Akuma together, a strange and exciting friendship begins… It’s just a shame one person doesn’t agree.

Someone who happens to be his ‘other half’.

Except:

Absent-mindedly, she reached out and grabbed her Chat Noir plushy, holding it tightly against her chest and feeling the bubbling emotion edge to break free. She didn’t want to leave him, not when she’d just figured it all out, when she’d figured out what she wanted them to be. It wasn’t just Paris she was unwilling to let go of — it was her partner too.

They’d been dating for just over three months, and what a blissful three months they’d had! But now it was all prematurely ending. They’d known this would happen. They’d known when they decided to give it a try that there was an expiration date looming over them. Both understood that their lives were about to take drastic changes in direction – but they’d decided to do it anyway, to finally give in to their overwhelming feelings — even if it had a short shelf life.

And now, the inevitable was happening and she hated it. More than anyone could ever imagine.

Alya stood from her position, making her way around the back of Marinette and wrapping her arms around her neck, her chin perched protectively on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Marinette nodded in response, aware the bubbling had finally broken free, spilling over and making a great escape down her cheeks. Alya knew the heartbreak she experienced every time she thought of leaving her partner. It felt like a divorce. Like a bereavement.

Every time Marinette thought of saying goodbye to her partner it was as though her heart had been ripped out. Nothing more than a confetti of complicated and complex emotions.

“I just… I…” She broke down, tears falling as she buried her face in her hands and grieved the loss of the most important thing in her life.

The sobs continued late into the darkness of night, as she and Chat Noir said their final goodbyes. Their hands were joined tightly together as they sat under the moonlight.

They were spending their last remaining hours together on their rooftop — exactly where they should be, spending hours talking into the darkness of night, reminiscing and conversing about nothing and everything – Chat Noir being his usual fun self even through the heartache he easily displayed on his sleeve. He was an open book to her, an encyclopaedia of all that was good and sweet in this world. No one would ever come close to him, and she understood that. No one was Chat Noir.

“You’re my true love,” he said. “And, as in the fairytales, true love will always prevail — because it's strong, and we’re strong. Stronger together.”

Marinette didn’t know where he was going, or what he was doing, but the pain of having to say a final farewell hurt more than anything she had done before, both giving in to one more night of passion before reluctantly leaving in the early hours of the morning.

Later that day, he left Paris.

Three weeks later, she did too.

[kmhappybunny240]

The French Nurse

Chapter 6

Hope you all enjoy.

Arrow house was a large looming mansion that scared Olivia a little. Why would he ever buy a home so ugly. Peter told her how well off Tommy had become but the property looked like it had been in a duke or a Lord's family for generations. It had been obvious Tommy has change drastically over the years and she didn't know if she likes who he has become. She started to think Arrow house reflected how he felt on the inside.

Olivia turned off the car and gathered her purse and the two cakes next to her.

"Will you grab the cookie box for me sweetheart ?"

" of course mama. "

Olivia and Oscar exited the car and made their way to the front door. She had to park at the end of a long line of very expensive cars. As they got closer she could hear the ruckus going on inside. Polly did say it was a family dinner.She didn't think the entire family. She didn't know how the others felt about her and Oscar. The biggest worry was Grace.

It didn't matter how much reassurance Tommy gave her , she didn't want to ruin their relationship. She didn't want to create a situation where Tommy would feel like he had to choice between his relationship with Grace or a relationship with his son. Peter told her he felt odd about and she wanted to confirm his suspicions but felt like a gossip. She wanted to find the good in Grace, it was a difficult too but she was put in a terrible position by that inspector. Right ?

They got to the front door and Olivia banged on it several times. She was about to tuck tail and run but a young woman opened the door. She was medium height with perfectly styled brown hair. She wore a modest yet expensive dress. The woman looked Olivia up and down. When they made eye contact , Olivia knew she was a Shelby.

"Who are you?" The woman was blunt.

" I'm Olivia . "

"Oh goodness please come in." She rushed them in and she took the cakes out of Olivia hands.

" I'm Ada , Tommy's"

"Sister." Olivia interrupted before she could finish .

Ada had a friendly smile and bright eyes.

"Sorry. Tommy told me so many stories of you all. I feel like I know you already."

Ada couldn't of been happier. She hated being the only girl and wanted a sister growing up. She was thankful for sister in laws. Well for Esme and Jenna. Grace was still undecided. A maid walked by and Ada handed the cakes to her. Ada heard a small voice and took her by surprise. In all the excitement she didn't notice that Olivia had a little boy with her. Her newest nephew.

"N'obliez pas les biscuits maman."

(Don't forget the cookies mama.)

"Oh right. Here you go." Olivia gave the box to the maid. Ada crouched down in front of Oscar and set her hand out to shake.

" I'm your auntie Ada. What is your name ? "

Oscar looked at Ada with caution. His mama debrief him about his father and the extended family , he wanted to give her a hug but was nervous. He held on to one of Olivia legs and stuck out his other hand to give Ada a formal hand shake.

"I'm Oscar Shelby miss Ada."

Olivia rubbed his back and pushed him forward some. She taught him to always have manners but she could see he was nervous. She didn't want him to hide behind her skirt all night.

"You can hug her. She is family. Go on ."

Oscar took one last assessment of his aunt and decided she looked friendly enough. He threw his arms around her neck and felt emotional. He wanted to cry but he wasn't sad. His mama called them happy tears. He could feel the love radiating off aunt Ada. He buried his face in her neck and squeezed her. He never wanted to let go.

" It's nice to meet you Oscar. Please just call me aunt Ada alright. "

Ada pulled him back and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. She was in love with this beautiful little boy. He was a mini Tommy for sure and knew he would have fun with Karl and the others.

Ada picked up her nephew and took him and Olivia to the living room. It was filled with chaos. Children were running around while the adults were clearly tipsy. Olivia could see Tommy in the corner with a beautiful blonde exchanging in a heated conversation. She was beautiful. Her hair was in perfect finger waves , her make up accented her soft facial features ,and her dress fit her body like a glove. The way Tommy caressed the blonde's left forearm and the glint of a diamond ring , it was obvious who she was . Grace , his perfect fiance.

Olivia stomach dropped. She shouldn't be feeling this way but she did. Tommy was touching another woman. He had every right to since they were to be married , she knew that, seeing them in person made it real. She didn't anticipate that.

Ada loudly whistled. "Oi Tom."

The whole room silenced and turned towards them. Tommy gently put Grace hand back on to her lap and rushed over to them. Olivia saw he was jumpy like a Jack rabbit. She said one last prayer under her breathe for this evening to go smoothly.

"Papa !" Oscar crashed into Tommy and he threw the little boy in the air . Tommy held Oscar close and hugged him. He last seen his boy only three days ago but it had felt like months. It was as though part of his heart was missing and has now returned. If Tommy had the full authority he would move Oscar and Olivia to Birmingham , unfortunately he knew Olivia wouldn't pick up and leave her new life she just created. Grace wouldn't want her around constantly either.

"Everybody , this is my son Oscar Charles Shelby and his mother Olivia DuBois."

Heads turned while the noise died down. Most were curious but there were a few hateful stares. One from Grace and the other was a tall brunette. She was modestly dressed but that didn't take away from her beauty. She looked like she could be in the magazines with her cheek bones. Her stare had more caution than complete hatred . The woman got up and moved to the other side of the room to join a man. The way they embraced she guessed they were married.

A sweet young woman came up to Olivia and hugged her.

"I'm Jenna , Arthur's wife, it's so good to meet you and little Oscar."

Jenna moved over to Tommy and gave Oscar cheek a little pat.

I'm your auntie."

Oscar blushed and the whispered to his father to be set down. Once he was down he hugged his new aunt. Jenna kissed him on the head and Arthur came to them.

"Ello We met already, at the hospital. "

" Yes , you're the oldest brother. He used to talk about you. I'm glad we can properly meet."

Arthur moved to his nephew and bent down to his eye level. He pulled out a cap to put on Oscar head.

"Eh now he's a Shelby."

Raucous laughter filled the room and Olivia felt more at ease , so did Oscar. She met John and his wife esme , their children , then Finn. One by one everyone introduced themselves. She learned the tall brunette was named Lizzie Keene. She was Tommy Secretary. Her husband was Albert , a foreman at a Shelby factory. Lizzie gave Olivia a stiff hand shake and gave Oscar a warm greeting. Her motherly instincts didn't feel that she was a threat. A shy but sweet man introduced himself as Curly , and uncle Charlie strong as well. The final introduction was with Grace.

Olivia could see how much anger and frustration Grace was holding in.

"Grace Burgess , Thomas's fiance."

Grace purposely stuck out her left hand for Olivia to shake. The engagement ring glinted in the light . She had a very posh Irish accent and a delicate hand. No calluses , which means she never worked with her hands. Most likely grew up with servants and was expected to marry a man with high standing, be the perfect wife. Why was she with Tommy ?

"I'm pleased to meet you . I love your dress."

Complement her Olivia thought. Stay on her good side.

"Hello Ms.Grace" Oscar, the little gentleman that he was , stuck out his hand to Grace. She gave him half a cold smile and quickly shook his hand.

"You look just like your father."

Olivia wanted to throttle that woman.

"Let's make our way to the dinning room please. Dinner will be served soon." Grace exited the room with a stiff strut. She seemed to hate the attention was off of her.

Olivia looked down to Oscar to see his disappointment. He so badly wanted to make a good impression on Grace.

As they walked towards the dinning room , Olivia kept repeating under her breathe . Benefit of the doubt, benefit of the doubt, give Grace some room to adjust . Taking on a step son can be overwhelming. All Grace needed was time to warm up to Oscar and then become best friends.

"You don't need to be worried sweetie"

Polly had slinked her way to Olivia side , nearly making her jump.

"I think you need a cat bell around your neck Polly. You scared me."

Polly rubbed the middle of Olivia back and chuckled. Polly was loving Olivia more every minute. As far as she was concerned arrow house and Birmingham was Olivia and Oscar new home and no one would make them feel uncomfortable.

"Don't be afraid to stand up to Grace if you need to. You are a Shelby now , you command respect."

"Polly I don't want to cause any trouble and I'm not a Shelby , Oscar is."

"Tommy might be the head but I'm the heart of this family and what I say goes. You are a fucking Shelby. Time to assert your dominance , otherwise Grace will walk all over you."

Polly gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and left her to enter the dinning room. Olivia was taken aback by the grand scale of the room. A massive long table that could seat a hundred people sat in the middle of the room. A fire place on left so big you could stand in it. What got her attention was the head of the table. A painting of Tommy standing next to a white horse holding its lead. It was a rather ugly picture in her mind. He wasn't even smiling just looking down on everyone in the room.

"Oscar you come sit here next to me and Olivia you can sit on the other side of him."

Grace sat across from them on Tommy right side. Ada rushed to the seat next to Grace just in case the dinner went sideways. Lizzie nearly pushed her way to Ada. She wanted a good view of any drama. Grace loathed how the family members clamored for Olivia attention. Polly won of course , followed by Jenna and Esme. Tommy saw Grace fingers digging into her thigh. He had to pry her hand away to kiss her knuckles. A comforting and intimate gesture Grace appreciated.

An army of serving staff came from left and right. Filling glasses with alcohol and water . Removing plates and replacing them with bowls of soup. A multi course dinner. Olivia was impressed.

Once every guest had their bowl a butler stood next to Tommy. The delicious aroma made Olivia stomach rumble.

"The first course is a tomato and anchovy filet soup."

Olivia saw out of her peripheral view Oscar about to eat a spoon full. Thankfully she heard the ingredients being listed in time.

"NO" Olivia shouted slapped the spoon out of her son hand.

"I'm sorry I should have mentioned earlier but Oscar has a few food allergies , one of them being anchovies. "

"Sorry baby I didn't mean to startle you."

She kissed Oscar on his head. She glanced over to Tommy and Grace. He was concerned while she was mad there was a stain on the carpet.

"Yes that is helpful information to have."

" Take the bowl away , NOW. "

Grace said rudely. A mousey young girl took the bowl away while profusely apologizing to Tommy and Olivia.

"I can ready a plain tomato and creme if he would like."

" Yes that would be lovely. Thank you so much. "

"What else is he allergic to ?" Tommy asked.

" Well peanuts , rice , and anchovy. His reaction isn't the worst case but he can become sick for several days. With the anchovy his ears start to itch and his throat swells some. I keep medication on hand for emergencies. "

"James."

Tommy called over his head butler.

" I will inform the chef of your son's dietary requirements Sir. "

"Thank you " Olivia tried to get the butler attention but he swiftly left the room.

Conversation lulled between the first and main course. Oscar was oblivious to the tension coming from across the table. He was too busy stuffing himself with fingerling potatoes. Grace ate her beef Wellington with precise bites. Ever so the proper lady. Controlled and calculated. The evil step mother from Cinderella came to mind. Olivia was waiting for a fluffy cat named Lucifer to make an appearance by the end of the night. A cough broke Olivia from her musings .

"Sweetheart you have to stop eating so fast or you'll choke." Olivia patted his back and made him take a few gulps of water .

"The potatoes are delicious mama."

"I agree your chef is very talented Tommy."

"It was a small miracle I was able to convince Mr. O'Neal to accept a position here at Arrow House. " Grace butted in before tommy could reply .

"He was fifth generation chef for the duke of Howth and the St Lawrence family. That's how I met Mr. O'Neal. The duke hosted a lavish state dinner in honor of my father and his exemplary service to the community and to the king."

By the end of her little speech Grace was smug. Her smirk faltered when the small murmur of "Fucking Calvary man " was heard down the table.

Olivia could see Tommy jaw tighten up at that word. Men on their high horses who laughed at being late to battle. A copper‚ from what Polly had told her, and a Calvary solider. Olivia didn't think Grace should be bragging about her father . Not in front of Tommy at least.

Olivia took a long sip of her wine.

"I must say that's impressive to have a man of that calibre working as your private chef."

"Yes I know." The arrogance was overwhelming and repulsive. It was so off putting that Olivia had a difficult time coming up with a witty remark. Some thing that could jab back at Grace to deflate her giant ego. Before she could make a weak comment about not knowing who the duke of howth was , Lizzie chimed in.

"I don't see a wedding ring. Does that mean you've never married ?"

Olivia couldn't hide her shocked expression from the question. Why was Tommy Secretary questioning her marital status ? She got that feeling Lizzie and Tommy had a deeper relationship than employer and employee.

"Um." That's all Olivia got out before she took a another sip of her wine.

"No I've never been married. I have this little one to keep me busy." She kissed Oscar head. Olivia would not let any judgment get to her. There were worse things to be than an unwed mother.

"Hhmm. I would think having a father for your son and setting an example for him would be a priority." Another jab from Grace . It was as if Lizzie and grace were playing off each other. Setting Olivia up for humiliation . Thankfully Tommy put stop to the pettiness .

"He has a father. Me." Tommy said forcefully and with finality . Lizzie was apologetic but not Grace. That just made her more angry.

"Do you have more family back home in France?" Jenna sweetly asked, wanting to defuse the situation.

"Yes , I have my parents , my brother and his wife. They have a little girl and another child on the way."

" Uncle Julien and aunt Lillian are coming next month to visit. " Oscar added.

"That sounds exciting. " Jenna gave a loving smile to Oscar.

"Will your parents be joining them?"

"Not sure. My father is currently training his replacement , he wants to retire."

" What is his profession ? " Ada asked, curious and also wanted to keep the ball rolling on the pleasant conversation.

"My father is a surgeon and my mother is a nurse , mostly midwifery. Julien and I followed in their foot steps."

Olivia felt her spirits lifted. A topic in which she felt joy and pride.

"You must have grown up privileged." Grace once again with a slight jab.

"I grew up comfortably. I did experience hard times occasionally. It taught me to work hard and appreciate the fruits of my labor. I was privileged enough to attend Boston training school at Massachusetts General hospital. " Olivia let her own arrogance seep through. The family members started asking questions. The room became loud with conversations over lapping. By the end of desert Oscar and Olivia felt the famille love. Olivia felt an added boost to her ego when the family picked her cakes and cookies over Grace requested plain white cake.

When the adult retired to the parlor for drinks and the children to the play room, Olivia was floating on cloud nine. Polly was right. She had asserted her dominance over Grace and it felt powerful. Olivia wanted to build a respectful relationship her but if grace stepped out of line with Oscar , she would have to answer to a very pissed off mama bear.

Olivia quietly stepped outside to retrieve Oscar over night bag. The sweet young maid offered to show her Oscar bedroom when an argument across the hall caught her attention. The young maid hast with Oscar bag , she knew better than to eaves drop on Mr. Shelby but Olivia couldn't move. Inside what looked to be an office , Tommy and Grace were in the middle of a very heated argument. She was pacing while Tommy had his head hung low , trying not to snap. This was likely all her fault. Olivia's gut began to churn with guilt. She got so wrapped up in her anger against Grace , she didn't think how it would affect tommy and by extension their son.

"Usually Polly is the only one who can get her that mad. I'm impressed." Lizzie said with a hint of admiration. Olivia stared at her quizzical while the office door was slammed shut. She had been caught.

"Smoke?" Lizzie asked while pointing to the back of the home. A door was open that led to a private patio. Olivia declined the cigarette while following Lizzie. They sat on the stone balustrade in silence. Lizzie smoked half of the cigarette before she spoke up.

"He would mumble a woman's name in his sleep. Liv. Over and over again. Sometimes he called out that name when he finished. I asked once . He just gave me a deadly glare and left. Didn't talk to me for a month after. I never asked again. When he called a family meeting two days ago it came full circle. Olivia ,Liv. It was you he was calling out to." Lizzie tone wasn't bitter only a sad hint of nostalgia. Olivia was right about them. Their relationship was romantic and not only professional. The guilt was coming back in waves. She had possibly tainted another relationship of Tommy's.

" I am truly sorry."

"Its alright." Lizzie patted Olivia hand.

"Tommy would pay extra if he felt that my feelings were hurt.He didn't have to. That was my job but tommy was sweet in his own way."

"He paid you?"

It took a moment to understand. They weren't in a romantic monogamous relationship. She was a prostitute .

"Une courtisane."

(A courtesan)

"You French can make any word sound exotic , including whore."

"How did you fall into that line of work ?" Olivia was curious now. She wanted to be tactful and not make Lizzie uncomfortable. Lizzie wasn't used to being met with kindness . Something about Olivia made her feel safe enough to tell her story.

"I was raised by me mum. Poor. Grew up two rows down from the Shelby. I didn't attend school for long , I couldn't. We had to eat so my mother and I worked. Worked any job available. Maid work mostly. She died when I was twenty then the war broke out. I wasn't smart enough for the office and not many people were hiring maids at the time. I became desperate . I used to fuck seven men a day now I hold the title of senior secretary of Shelby company limited."

"You should be proud of how far you have come. You did what was necessary to survive. No one can fault you for that." Olivia felt compassion more now. The woman was given a terrible hand in life and obviously suffered some.

"Queen Grace would have had me flogged through the streets of small heath for being a harlot."

"I want to have faith that grace will be kind to my son so please tell me the truth. Is grace truly an awful person? There has to be some good in her for tommy to be in love with her." Olivia craved a strong drink during this conversation.

"I believe Grace wants more that tommy can give her. His true self is a Romania boy who loves horses and traveling the countryside. The house , money, the OBE is all for Grace. She won't harm your boy but tommy will keep hold on her attitude. She will always hate you. No way around that."

"What did he get himself into?"

"She swooped in on him while he was vulnerable. She does love him but not unconditional love sadly."

"I want to apologize for my behavior at dinner. Tommy is family and I don't want to see him get hurt."

"I understand and thank you."

A brief silence settled between them. Olivia appreciated her sincerity . A burning question floated around in her brain and blurted it out.

"Do you love Tommy ?"

Lizzie chuckled.

"Dear god no. What we had was out of comfort. We needed each other at that time. I work for him because he owed me. Tommy gifted me a type writer and secretary classes. He also introduced me to my husband. I'm loyal to the family because they have protected me."

Olivia pulled Lizzie into a hug."

"I'd like for us to be friends if that's alright."

"I would like that too." Lizzie could see a long lasting friendship with Olivia.

"There you are my love" Albert greeted Lizzie with a kiss on the cheek and a subtle rub on her stomach.

"Congratulations on the baby." Both Lizzie and Albert looked a little shocked Olivia mentioned it. They found out a few days ago and hadn't told anyone.

"You couldn't eat the anchovy soup or the beef Wellington. You've rubbed your belly through out the night . Albert just confirmed it for me."

"We haven't told anyone yet."

"I understand your secret is safe with me"

Olivia and Lizzie hugged a final time when they all entered the house. Olivia veered off into one of the many corridors. Dark wood framing , dark wall paper , dark paint. This house was out of a gothic novel. The only reprieve was the paintings.Most of them colorful scenic wildlife. A few abstract paintings to portray tommy and grace as serious art collectors.

The grand portrait on the stair case burned holes into Olivia. Grace was perfect. The chandelier light highlighted her eyes and she was haunting. Olivia swayed left and right waiting for the eyes to follow. The long night was getting to her. She felt emotionally drained and wanted to cry. Cry because her little boy was leaving the nest. Cry for her family back home she hadn't seen in months.The kindness and acceptance she was shown by the Shelby family. Crying at the realization she is lonely.

"No one FUCKING listens to me."

"Fuck"

A raging bull stormed down the hall oblivious towards Olivia .Grace chewed tommy ear off. Blah blah Polly disrespected her in her own home. Blah blah Jenna should remain loyal as a sister in law. Blah blah blah.

He had never hit a woman but when grace nearly called Olivia a that French whore , he had to resist the urge.

After many assurances about their future , grace wouldn't shut up. He kept giving and giving to the relationship but grace didn't trust him. Oscar was an added blessing to his life not a burden. His mother was not a threat. He had to run from the argument otherwise he knew Grace would demand he not pursue a relationship with his son. No one would stand in the way of his son. NO ONE.

In his blinding anger , Tommy clipped a shoulder. He wanted to hide upstairs until he calmed down.

"Ouch."

The voice stopped him. He turned to see Olivia rubbing her upper arm.

"Fuck"

"You've already said that Thomas."

"Fuck I'm sorry. Didn't see you."

His adrenaline was pumping. After a nasty fight he and grace would usually have make up sex , tonight that didn't seem like a possibility. He was directing that sexual tension towards Olivia. He feral urge to take her to his bed and not let her leave till morning

He gently stroked her bicep and murmured another apology.

"Would you care to see Oscar new room ?"

Tommy pulled Olivia along before she could reply. They ran up the stairs and past Tommy room. The door was slightly ajar, Olivia saw the large inviting bed and wondered what it would feel like to roll around naked on the sheets.

"Stop it". Olivia whispered out loudly .

" What ?" Tommy furrowed his brows.

"Oh , nothing." She accidentally chastised herself out loud. She shouldn't having any sexual thoughts towards Tommy at that moment. Standing in front of her son's new bedroom and the fiance downstairs. Being celibate for five years and nine months was starting to get to her. Maybe it was time for a lover.

Tommy opened the door, the smell of fresh paint lingered in the air. Brand new comforter and pillows with a horse pattern decorated the bed. Two large dressers sat on opposite walls . A giant toy chest joined them. From afar Olivia could see the curtains matched his bedding. She smiled.

"He is going to love this." Olivia walked around some. Tommy sat on the bed , proud that Olivia approves.

She ran her fingers across the soft blanket when Tommy pulled her to him. She became lost in his eyes. He brushed a loose lock of hair behind her ear. Their faces gravitated towards each other until their noses touched. He pulled Olivia by the waist , nearly sitting her on his lap. Hot lustful breathe passed between them. Just as Olivia was about to press her lips to his, A pop of laughter broke the spell.

So damn close. Olivia stood up and walked to the window.

"We can't be doing that Thomas. We are to familiar."

"Livy."

"Stop Thomas. Please just stop."

"I can't give grace another reason to hate me. Tonight would have ended in disaster if not for your family intervening."

"Everything will be fine if grace will just fucking listen."

"No tommy . She feels threatened. I don't like how she behaved but I understand."

He was trying his hardest to rationalize. Yes it was wrong to try and kiss Olivia but he couldn't help it. His brain hurt trying to juggle Grace's demands ,his family and now his buried feelings towards Olivia.Would it be so bad to marry Grace and carry on an affair with Olivia?

"Olivia please."

"I lost my mind,that's why I didn't find you."

She needed to create distance. To show how broken she had become. He heard shovels digging but she had come close to being hospitalized. The first two years after the war was horrific for her mental health. Possibly she could make him hate her for staying away and being selfish. She felt she needed to be punished for her actions.

"It started after I was discharged. I was promoted and continued to work at a civilian hospital. Slept in my own bed , in a warm home.I was filled with anxiety and had nightmares. The same one over and over again. Dead everywhere in the battle field while you were screaming, begging me to find you."

Olivia made her way to the plush winged back chair in the corner.

"I was so sad I barely ate.I didn't go back home to my parents , they didn't know I was pregnant. He woke me up. When I felt Oscar kick for the first time I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. The birth was rough and thankfully my family had been contacted. I had hope going home , that I would have a peaceful life. Sadly that wasn't the case."

Tommy heart broke for Olivia. He felt her sorrow. She shouldered the responsibility of a mother and the shell shock. She had to be one of the strongest people he had known. Tommy admired and loved Olivia more.

"Do you remember the stories I told you about my childhood , the festivals ?"

Tommy nodded his head in recognition.

"The field that has held so many happy memories of my life is now a cemetery. Soldiers from all over the world who couldn't go home are buried there. Some Germans too. Two thousand eight hundred and thirty four headstones . I kept thinking you were buried there."

Olivia leg was jumping. She hated how vulnerable she was in that moment but she also felt the pressure was lifting off of her. The truth was setting her free. If he hated her after so be it. Her next confession should push him to the edge. It's a sad fact that was out of her control but still felt guilt. She knew and understood it wasn't her fault. A little voice in the back of her mind wouldn't let it go.

"I don't remember much of Oscar first year. My parents did most of the work in taking care of him. I don't remember his first words , when he started rolling over and crawling. I was in a haze. I went from nightmares to night terrors. You kept blaming me for your death. Hated me for keeping Oscar away. I would walk to the cemetery at night searching for your name on the stones. I don't want to get into what fully happened but I did have a breakdown."

Tommy rushed over to her with a handkerchief. Small tears ran down her face and he wiped them away.

"I started seeing a doctor after that. He helped me understand what I was going through and lessen the burden I was feeling."

Tommy was now on his knees in front of Olivia holding both of her hands.

"I wanted him to myself. I wanted to remain clueless about if you were alive or dead. I built a perfect life for Oscar and I that no one could touch."

"There it is Tom. The truth. I selfishly kept your son while being a terrible mother. I ignored him while pregnant and during his first year."

"You had no control over it."

"WHY AREN'T YOU ANGRY ?!"

Olivia held tommy vest lapels in her tight fists. Panting and vision starting to blur. Tommy cradled her head to his chest.

"Shh. You're safe." He continued to whisper in Romani . The same words he would use to calm scared horses. He didn't want her to hyperventilate .

Panic was setting in for Olivia. It had been months since an attack. Tommy's words soothed her. She breathed in through her nose and out of her mouth. The smell of cigarettes whiskey and an unknown cologne filled her lungs. A unique smell that she will always associate with comfort and peace.

"I apologize for my outburst. I've been holding in for so long."

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. He held her close kissing Olivia on her forehead. He pulled back to stroke her cheek.

"You are strong. Stronger than I am. I could have not picked a better mother for our boy. Never doubt yourself."

Olivia gave tommy a small warm smile. Her hands moved to his back. Rubbing up and down while both of them swaying together. The memories of their impromptu first dance came flooding back.In the garage next to the medical trucks. Humming a tune while shuffling in the dark.

A familiar tune filled the silence. Olivia had started humming , the swaying changed into more pronounced movement. Murmuring in the hallway stopped their dancing.

"This is room belongs to you now."

Olivia pushed tommy a few inches to create a respectful distance. Polly and Francis ushered Oscar into his bedroom. Polly saw how close their were and couldn't help the Cheshire grin .

"Mama I have horses on the blanket."

"I know baby. Look at all the toys papa got you."

Olivia pointed to the toy chest. He squealed.

"Mr. Shelby should I turn down his bedding and unpack his suitcase." Francis asked.

"Yes and if you could draw him a bath in half an hour. I need to throw my family out by then."

"Thomas that's rude." Olivia gave a little jab to his side. They both chuckled.

"Seems I forgot to mention Ada , john , Esme , and the children will be staying over. We all thought it would help Oscar adjust to his new surroundings."

"When did you all decide this ?" Just what tommy needed. If he didn't know grace certainly didn't know of the extra over night guests.

"A few days ago.Don't worry the children will be on their best behavior."

"Oh good." Sarcasm seeped through tommy.

" Resteras-tu pour l'heure du conte maman?"

(will you stay for story time mama?)

"Bien sûr mon amour, mais d'abord ton bain. Allons dire bonne nuit á votre famille."

(Of course my love but first your bath. Let's go say goodnight to your family.)

Francis busy herself while Polly cornered Tommy.

"You both seemed rather cozy before we entered the room."

"Polly. No plots , no schemes."

"Plots and schemes are the same thing."

"Nothing was happening between us. Do you understand ?"

"I understand."

Tommy nodded at her and left the room.

"For now." Polly mumbled that last part under her breathe.

"Since you will be around I have to show you the city tomorrow. A lovely spa recently opened at the Midland hotel. I had a facial treatment that made me look and feel ten years younger. Also it's an all women staff." Jenna was buzzing with excitement.

"I'm staying at the Midland, I can set up an appointment for us in the afternoon. Would any other ladies like to join ? My treat."

"I'm comin. I need a day away from those little devils." Esme gave a deadly side eye to John. Daring him to argue with her.

"My back has been hurting. Before we leave I will tell Tommy I need a sick day tomorrow." Lizzie announced with a smirk.

"Ada and I are unable attend but we can meet you all for lunch." Polly would have loved to of gone on their day of relaxation but she and Ada had to smooth over their official business with Mr. Thompson.

Glasses rattled in the corner of the room. Everyone turned to the sound. Grace had snuck herself back into the lounge after the humiliating fight with Tommy. She had legitimate concerns about their future together. Tommy swept her feelings to the side in favor of that bastard.

"Grace would you care to join us." The smirking whore had the audacity to invite her to some girly outing like they were best of friends.

" No." Her decline was blunt. A little to blunt appearing rude.

"Tomorrow I have an appointment with the florist for the wedding." Grace said in a sickly sweet tone.

"Oh well next time we can have lunch." Olivia cheeks stretched into the best smile she could muster.

"Hmm yes. If you all would excuse me , I'm awfully tired and want to retire for the night. Thank you all so very much for coming. Good night." Grace left in a huff. John burst out laughing, obviously drunk.

"She needs to take the stick out of her arse."

"JOHN" Esme slapped him. The children giggled at the antics.

"Say goodnight , it's time for your bath."

Olivia and Oscar left in a flurry of hugs and kisses.

They met Francis in the bathroom. She set out warm towels and drew a bubble bath. The faint sent of lavender filled the room. Tommy watched them from the door. Olivia washing Oscar hair while conversing in French. His heart warmed with familiar memories. His mother bathing the Shelby children. After a long hard day she would drag the copper tub in front of the fire without complaint. She bought special soap for each child. His favorite was chamomile scent. She would hum a soothing tune , each time he managed to fall asleep in the tub. His mother would rap him up in the lone fluffy towel they owned and tucked him into bed. The strong maternal love that radiated from his mother was coming from Olivia. How could one woman be calming and peaceful.

Olivia lifted Oscar out of the tub to dry him off. Tommy lifted Oscar into his bed to tuck him in. He sat off to the side , listening to the story Olivia spun so eloquently he started to drift off.

"Papa."

Tommy opened his eyes to a sleepy Oscar reaching for him.

"Goodnight my boy. I'm just across the hall if you need me." Tommy kissed him on the forehead.

"Are you sure you can't stay mama ?"

"No sweetheart. The hotel isn't very far and your father has the number. I will call you in the morning and will be around for dinner."

"Love you mama."

"Love you. Sweet dreams. "

Tommy left his son door ajar and escorted Olivia down the stairs , his hand on her lower back. He hated she would leave to a hotel. This was the situation. She didn't belong with him. Grace did unfortunately.

Olivia retrieved her coat and purse while exiting the house. She stood by her car door staring at Tommy.

"I had a wonderful time with your family."

"Livy."

"I said what I had too and that's all I will speak on the subject. Please understand Tommy , we are parents to our son and that's it. That is all we can ever be."

"I know." He swallowed the words like acid.

"Oi , Olivia." Arthur shouted to get her attention.

"Arthur don't be so loud." Jenna gently scolded her husband.

Arthur pulled Olivia into a bear hug. He pulled back and gave her a pat on the shoulder. His emotions were bubbling to the surface which he hated. He still hasn't figured out how to deal but Jenna was a saint in helping him.

"We were surprised when tommy told us about you and the kid , always thought it would be me or john with secret kids running around the city. Maybe our dad."

"Arthur." Tommy gave him a warning and Jenna put her palm against his for comfort.

" I can see you both make my brother happy. That's what matters. You have brothers in me , john ,and Finn now."

Olivia kissed Arthur cheek in thanks. He was a sweetheart despite his tough exterior.

"That means so much to me thank you."

She gave her goodbyes and left for the hotel. Tommy stood in the chilled night watching the tail lights disappear down the drive way. He understood what she was trying to do upstairs. Pushing him away, trying to convince him she was a terrible mother . Mentally unstable , not fit to be in a relationship.Damaged goods , that's how she saw herself. It made him respect her rather than hate her. She took control of her problems and confronted them. She admitted she had a problem , which is more than tommy ever did. Olivia was better than him in every way.

Tommy made way to his bedroom dragging his feet the entire way. He looked in on his boy sleeping soundly. Another person that he didn't deserve. A hard truth he had to face. He loved grace because they were the same type of person. He killed so many men in France to get back home. He killed men in Birmingham to ascend to the top of the food chain. He destroyed families , pulled the trigger without blinking. Ruthless when he had to be. Grace was the same way. All of her sins led her to him. She saw what she wanted and didn't stop until she conquered it. Olivia wasn't that way. A soft compassionate heart. She found a way to heal her mind and soul.

Tommy wasn't so lucky. It was the same viscous cycle everyday. He was a broken man . A career criminal. He didn't want her to see him wash the blood off his hands after the end of the day. He was scared to admit that he feared rejection. Olivia might not be able to handle Peaky blinder Thomas. She knew the soldier who she dug shrapnel out of. A man who dreamed of owning horses. Not the man he is now. Grace accepted that part him. She used that part to her advantage. Sweep it under the rug when it hurt her image. Two peas in a pod.

"You were right Grace."

Grace eyes widened at Tommy statement. She had just finished a scolding hot bath and wanted to sleep the anger away.

"My feelings for her came back but its not something I'm going to or wanting to pursue. I apologize."

"You have to stay away from her. She can not be an intrusive force in our life."

"She is my son's mother I can't cut either of them out my life."

"I know but you don't have to around her. Don't entertain her or be alone in the same room. Polly or Ada can do that. Set boundaries and make them perfectly clear to her. You and I are getting married. She has no place other than Oscar mother ."

"Mmmhmm. I promise I will ."

Tommy push Grace up against the wall with a kiss. He wanted to shut her up. Grace robe was thrown to the floor , tommy buttons flew in the air , lust thick in the air. Tommy pounded into grace with fury.He was punishing himself while symbolically severing any hope for a romantic future with Olivia. She will find a good man in time and marry him have more children. Maybe Oscar will end up loving his step father more than him.The thought enraged him so he took it out on Grace which she loved. He carried her to the bed and took her from behind. He wanted to finish at that point.

Once it was over Tommy held Grace to his chest.

"I should be more force full you seem to like it." Grace broke the silence with her comment.

"Goodnight."

Tommy managed a few hours of sleep before he woke up. Grace turned on her side with even breathes. He looked around his siren wasn't there calling out to him. He strained his ears for humming but there wasn't any. He couldn't smell her perfume. She was gone. That's what he wanted. He didn't understand why tears were slipping down the side of his eyes. Of course he understood why but it's what is best. He cried himself back to into a nightmare.

He was in the pit that Campbell men dug for his dead body. On his knees with a gun to his head he looked to his left to see Olivia , Oscar , A mystery man , and a small toddler. They were enjoying a picnic. Laughing their cares away. His impending death was invisible to them.

" She is doing just fine without you. You aren't needed." The man who spoke was Campbell. Blood pouring out of his chest. He wanted to scream for Olivia but nothing came out. He felt the multiple bullets hit his chest while falling into the pit. He looked up to the sky waiting for her to rescue him. She never did. Dirt piled on top of tommy. He was being buried alive. Shovel after shovel rang in his ears. Olivia laughter was faint and faded. He was dying alone while she was happy.

When tommy woke he rushed to the toilet to vomit. His dream would turn into reality one day. Olivia didn't need to be brought down by his misery and misdeeds. He would do everything in his power to make sure Oscar was safe and not inherent his melancholy. He will keep a respectful distance with her.

Tommy met an excited Oscar in the hallway . He wouldn't stop talking about the horses. An icebreaker they could bond over. He was such a Shelby boy like he and his brothers were at that age. An innocent soul he would keep pure. He still worried about Grace. He had hope after the night they had and the promises he made towards their future. She wasn't his true love but Grace would do. He made his bed now it's time to lie in it

[logically-asexual]

another fanfic i won’t write:

about gabriel misusing his power to take advantage of nathalie’s feelings for him. because i love toxicity.

at some point during season 4?

gabriel walks past nathalie’s bedroom and gets a strange sensation. he gathers that he must be sensing an emotion coming from nathalie but it’s too muffled to decipher. she’s always been way too good at hiding her feelings, so even this subtle hint at something is rare for gabriel to spot. but it still isn’t enough.

he stops by her door and tries to get a clearer impression but it doesn’t work. he calls duusu and asks her to check on nathalie, which she gladly accepts.

duusu gets inside and asks her what’s wrong, but nathalie is just sitting in her bed working as normal and insists nothing is wrong. and duusu is like “please miss nathalie, you can talk to me! i promise i won’t tell mr gabriel anything!”

nathalie wasn’t even thinking about that possibility, but now that the kwami mentioned it she says “you can’t keep that promise. he could force you to speak, and you’re not even good at keeping secrets anyway”

and duusu says “so there is a secret!”

gabriel is overhearing everything from the other side of the door and at this moment he can make out a tiny speck of nervousness coming from inside.

duusu goes on “i mean in addition to the one about you being in lo—“ before nathalie holds her little mouth shut and whispers “don’t you dare say that out loud.” then she sighs. “besides. i don’t even know if that’s still true.”

that little confession is what gabriel needed, because nathalie lets her guard down just enough for him to feel her emotion. which turns out to be distress, caused by the conflict between her loyalty for him and her worry on whether she’s doing the right thing.

(nathalie has been thinking about their actions and doubting if it’s all really worth it. she still loves gabriel but he’s changing and what she admired before as commitment to his family is turning into obsession, and she doesn’t like it.)

gabriel steps back and frowns. this is bad, he can’t lose nathalie’s support. he would be ruined without her. he can’t let her hesitate and must bring her back on his side. and he knows just the way to do it. >:)

nooroo knows his bad intentions and tries to talk to him like “uuh.. master? what are you going to do?” gabriel responds “i need to take drastic measures,” before waving the kwami away. then he knocks on the door.

👀..

nathalie tells duusu to get lost and turns back to her screen as she tells gabriel to come in. she’s able to bury her feelings again and once again gabriel feels nothing coming from her. but it doesn’t matter. he walks straight to her bed and ignores her when she asks what he needs.

he says that he just came in to check how she was doing, and let her know he’d have someone bring her food in a few minutes. she says she’s fine, and it’d be impossible for anyone else to know she was lying.

he looks at her in the eye with a sad expression. he just says her name and puts a hand on her cheek. she’s surprised and lets some nervousness show. she starts to ask what’s wrong but he interrupts her.

he gives her a little speech like “im so sorry. i know i’ve made too many mistakes but i promise i’ll fix them. i… i just need you to know how important you are to me, nathalie, how much i care about you.” he leans in closer, supporting himself with a hand on the bed on the other side as the one still on her cheek, so she’s caged in. “you’re the main reason i’m still doing this,” he lies, of course. then he closes his eyes and leans his forehead on hers.

nathalie is too shocked to do anything. she’s trying to process what he’s saying but she can’t, as overwhelmed as she is.

he moves his hands to wrap his arms around her in a hug that is a little awkward, but she hugs him back. then he pulls back again just enough to look her in the eyes and say “i’m going to save you, nathalie, i promise.”

she’s moved by this, feeling for some reason protected and safe in his arms. and now it’s her holding his face in her palm. “it’s okay,” she tells him “we will figure it out.”

gabriel smiles, then pauses for a moment, still feeling a little doubt in her. he takes a deep breath, and kisses her.

and it’s like. painfully soft and barely there. but clearly intentional. nathalie’s heart is running a mile a minute and she looks away in embarrassment after it’s over, but doesn’t push him away.

gabriel brushes a strand of hair away from her face, drawing her attention back to him and whispers “don’t give up on me, okay? i’ll fix everything.” to which she replies with the tiniest nod. he smiles and finally pulls away, and walks out without a word.

👀..

once he leaves duusu begins gushing about the kiss but stops once she notices nathalie is tearing up. duusu is confused because she thought she understood romance (though she only knows what she knows from fairy tale books) and a kiss is supposed to be the happy ending. nathalie doesn’t have energy to explain and she just says that it’s more complicated than that.

but gabriel’s plan worked. though a voice in her head tells her not to, she wants to believe him, because that small taste of what could be is enough to leave her wanting, hoping for more.

meanwhile gabriel left to his office to stare a the portrait, silently apologizing to emily, reassuring her (rather himself) that he did what he had to do to succeed.

nooroo mutters something about how he shouldn’t take advantage of people’s emotions like that, to which gabriel responds “don’t lecture me, kwami. im just using the power that you gave me.” he turns back to emily’s face “and i’ll do whatever it takes.”

[sour-heart-treats]

Ananas needs Pitaya for somethin (Idk what, you can decide ^^) but he's too prideful to ask for help so he suffers

"Ananas Dragon, sire... are you sure we can't ask the other dragons for help? Since they're also dragons, surely they'd know why you've come down with-"

"I do not CARE if they knew the cure to crumbling itself!" The golden dragon Ananas would snarl, startling their poor assistant Mango. Normally he wouldn't be scared so easily, but it was understandable considering the dragon's current condition. What normal cookies would state to be simply 'ill' was a drastic understatement. "We are NOT allowing such pathetic excuses of my own kind in here... this territory is mine, and I can find the cure on my own."

Mango would look up at the bed-ridden dragon, blinking sadly at them as he looked down to the dragon's legs- that of which has been frozen to stone. The full color next to golden scales was such a sharp contrast in Mango's eyes. He's heard many tales about creatures with this capabilities, he's told some himself! But those were in deserts or buried in ruined lands. "I understand, my dragon, but... how can you rule and protect the islands like this? Can you even shift into a dragon?"

"Of course I can! How lowly do you think of me? I am simply... not feeling up to it." The gilded legend huffed, refusing to make eye contact with their friend and assistant. They both knew that the excuse was as pathetic as Ananas' own state. They hated feeling Mango's gaze on them when it wasn't a form of awe or admiration... they didn't want to- need to- be coddled.

"The red dragon is nearby, though I am certain you don't want to see them..."

"Never in a thousand years or more."

"Hm..." The tour guide would hold his oar in both hands, wringing his hands around the handle idly. "In that case, I will have to look for a cure myself. It can be an adventure! And you know how much I love those!"

Ananas would near-instinctively growl, nearly snapping at Mango again, but only holding themself back by virtue of knowing that with a dragon's blessing, he can take care of himself for certain. For someone so small, for someone that's nothing more than a regular cookie, Ananas had faith in him. There's a reason why he's the only assistant Ananas has. Even so...

"And what of myself?" The question was weak- a feeble attempt to keep Mango from leaving. It seems that the softness that Ananas unwittingly let through was reciprocated, as the guide set a gentle hand on the dragon's scaled shoulder. "You still have your geomancy, don't you? There's plenty of ways to use that to get around, especially if you're in danger! Think of it as... a rock canoe!" Mango would smile sweetly, giving a quiet laugh that nearly got the dragon to grin themself.

"Right. A good idea, coming from a cookie." The dragon would snicker, eyes meeting Mango's in a moment of understanding. "Then you are permitted to go find whatever will aid me. Not that I need it, of course, but if it will benefit me- then I see no point as to why I should distrust you."

"Thank you, Ananas Dragon." Switching his ore to one hand, the sunset-colored cookie would salute the dragon and turn away to depart. "You can count on me!" Well, more like count on the red dragon. They were nearby for a visit a few isles over. The timing couldn't have been better! Even the island's protector hated their guts, he had to try.

Anything would be better than letting Ananas lay there and stew in their own selfishness and paranoia... and that stone skin that coated their scales sure looked like it covered more than it did yesterday...

[legaciestold]

@spookyagentfmulder

variables.

her parents had always taught her to look at context clues to unravel the truth of the past, the truth of a people, the truth of society. one couldn't ascertain what had befallen a lost city in the jungle from a single piece of broken pottery or bone or understand the social dynamics that resulted in finding two distinctly different artifacts from two warring tribes within the same ruined household buried under a mountain of dirt. you had to investigate, you had to look at the ruins as a whole, the uncovered weaponry, the uncovered art, and chemical residue from the clay pots unearthed that held traces of foods from the other side of the country (even if it hadn't been that country at all back then). you had to look into what'd happened on that side of the land too, consult geologists that helped support, through their own independent research, the theory that a geologic event caused an ancient migration that forced two societies to merge into one.

it was much the same thing investigating how the dead became that way. one in her field didn't just look at the body, though the primary and secondary causes of death were always important in the work of a forensic pathologist. but one had to examine a victim's life, their medical records, speak to family at times. one had to understand how this person met their fate and what factors predisposed them to such. one sometimes had to understand the suspects too, the fact one favored one arm over the other and how that matched with the angle of a wound. it aided the investigation of detectives as they went about their side of things. though, doctor ariadne cross could readily admit her role these days has been drastically blurred. she'd seen things and learned things she'd have previously been hard pressed to understand while working for the foundation and now consulting with the bprd she'd seen more. she'd ended up in the field too, something she'd never quite been officially trained for but when the body was going to dissolve into a pile of goop in an hour or the body in question had gotten up and moved to another location, you learned quickly to go with it.

so it's variables which she takes into consideration as she works at the post mortem in the smaller theater of the medical examiners office, leaving the larger one to her collages who weren't privy to the work she did for the 'fbi' (except this time it really was the fbi wasn't it?). the local news had been discussing crude grave robberies for the past three weeks which rivaled what one would hear centuries before when medical students paid for cadavers in secret no questions asked. (how many of those had been undead? she wonders morbidly.) there'd also been a rash of murders the press had dubbed with a sanguine moniker due to the lack of blood and viciousness of the attacks. most of them had come through this office, some had found themselves a jurisdiction over, and a few even crossing state lines into new york.

she imagines that's what'd alerted the fbi.

of course the bprd had been aware too, eventually, once the independent pieces had started to come together and the last body she'd examined had decided to get up and grab her before she'd called john and a team had... dealt with it. that'd been yesterday, another body already fresh on her table-- an escalation. the issue had become the fact that the actual or the normal part of the fbi had come become involved in the case and from what she'd been told director manning seemed convinced it'd cause more issues to attempt to block the other division than just let some spooky agent he seemed annoyed with after talking to some other director she thinks was named skinner investigate the case himself. why she'd even been there when manning was having it out on the phone she wasn't sure. she'd been called in and had waited to be told what they expected of her.

was she supposed to tell him the facts she knew to be true and the ones she suspected? would the agent even believe her?

then again, that all seemed rather above her paygrade. if the bprd wanted to run an investigation at the same time as some random fbi agent that was their choice. she supposes they likely think they'll have it wrapped up before this agent does. some alternative explanation able to be presented eventually or maybe they plan to tell him what they think is causing the influx of undead. she doesn't know. she also kind of thinks manning might be getting some enjoyment out of making this agent mulder (their brief introduction an hour before had told her) go on a wild goose chase that'd actually be close to the truth only to pull a fast one. (if she'd guess, this wasn't the first time said agent has caused him issue even if the agent hadn't known it.) of course this is all conjecture. it wasn't as if she had afternoon tea dates with director manning. she didn't know him well, only from the sidelines.

so, doctor cross continues noting her findings to the blinking light of a camera feed, stating how the marks and her findings were consistent with the other bodies that had been found drained or nearly drained with blood. she queries aloud (the speaker in the gallery actively on) that if a strigoi (also known as a vampire) like the press was stirring the pot with allusions to had been responsible it seemed strange for any victims to still have blood if the goal had been to kill for sustenance. perhaps such a wild theory is just her unserious commentary given the newspaper reports, though it's said with a seriousness as if it's something valid. it wasn't as if her co-workers would see this video. the bprd would though. she goes on to state that such findings were also consistent with the few bodies that had been stolen from the graveyard that pre-dated the more recent bodies. the ones that all evidence indicated, as she states, the same killer had caused those deaths and it had failed to be realized until their bodies had been reexamined. further, the brutality of the crimes appeared to be getting more extreme and frenzied. she held theories about that one though she hasn't voiced them yet. maybe she wants to what the agent up in the gallery will say first. go from there. "you can come down here now, agent mulder. i'm about to put him on ice."

[tnerb90]

Like the legend of the Phoenix...

Today is the first day of the rest of your life...

Yes, it’s true. It’s been almost 2 years since my last post and here we go again. It feels like Into the Spiderverse. Let’s start from the beginning one more time....I wanted to create a new profile and start fresh, acting like none of the previous failures happened. I’m still tempted to, even as I write. 

But here we go again. I read through each and every post again, looking for patterns. Looking for strengths. Looking for lessons basically. So what happened? A fuckton of different factors, I’m sure. Underlying stress was a big one. I didn’t really acknowledge it much in past posts because I didn’t realize how drastic it was until I started my current job, outside of counseling. Since 2019 when I started...global pandemic. Fired from CHILL. Took 2 jobs that I flamed out on, including a DOH investigation and dealt with that for several months. More?... All the change at PV... Jessie leaving. Jone being fired. Peggy leaving. Desiree taking over as my boss.... also promotion to PHP Manager... burning the fuck out. Changing buildings.... A lot of stress. Looking back, it’s such a relief that I’m not there anymore. I quit PV in April 2022, so it’s been nearly a year now. Working at Conquest now obviously. From early on, I could tell this was a much better fit for me, and it continues to be. Especially stress-wise.... 

But the stress stuff was just underlying it all. Looking at my habits themselves, I can see a lot of areas for improvement... namely, the fad diet thing. I mean, I said it from day 1 that I’ve tried them all and nothing’s worked. So of course, I continue the same method again and failed again. Sure, I lost weight each time. But how sustainable was it? Obviously not very. Because I never once got below 300. Idk if that’s a mental barrier or what. But it sucks. I was doing so well. Got to 300 then gained it back + more. Then got to 302 or whatever...of course, I gained it back+more. Again. A -fuckin-gain.... Looking back, even though it felt like I was onto something (again, losing weight wasn’t the issue, I was doing it). But the method was unsustainable. Panicking over whether beans are too high carb. Sugar free italian ice...corn... chili...apples and honey on rosh hashana. Like come on man. You were doing great! Why was I so worked up about being perfect. It was such an unhealthy all-or-nothing mindset. I felt that if I wasn’t perfect, it was a failure. So one slip easily leads to “fuck it” I can’t do it! Or fuck it! Today’s ruined anyway, might as well start fresh tomorrow. Or monday. Or.... next year. Idk.

Ok, stress. Trying the same old methods/mindset. What else? I’m sure I started smoking again right after the last post. It was late July, early Aug when I got my card. So I’m sure that + the “promotion” and the shitshow that followed did it for me. 

What else?

I’m burying the lede here. The biggest thing I’ve learned so far this time, is I need help... I always do this shit alone. Because I’m afraid to be a burden on others. Or afraid that if I’m accountable to someone I can’t quit and ghost on myself. 

Okay. So those were the major lessons taken from a negative side. Now the positives.... in one of the previous posts, I had the eureka moment that should have always been obvious, but I guess I was in denial or something. I have a fucking eating disorder. BED? Sure. Regardless of the diagnosis, I overeat. Not just overeat. I eat to soothe myself. I eat as a coping mechanism. I can’t believe it wasn’t as obvious my whole life. Like wow. I was stressed AF. I ate. Then I was at peace on the couch. What a fucking concept. Really hard puzzle to figure out. 

(Sidebar- another negative I forgot to mention. I was so harsh on myself. I beat myself up for every little detail, mistake, craving, etc. so maybe I’ll trying being easier on myself, not bees a sarcastic ass like in the previous paragraph.)

Ok. Strengths. I understand now that I was using food to cope. It’s a huge development for me. Like Rogers said, now that I accept it, I can change it. Another thing positive, is I was journaling! I had an outlet! That was awesome. And apparently it’s still beneficial for me to look back on and learn from myself. My mindset. etc.  

So overall, I couldn’t handle my stress. I was using food to cope with that stress. I was being perfectionistic, all-or-nothing about it. I was being harsh on myself. Another thing I forgot to mention was how concerned I was at times with what others may have thought. So again, doing it alone. Hiding it from others. Ironically, I think I did that in order to feel like I wasn’t doing it “for them”. If I do it alone without telling anyone, I’m obviously doing it for myself right? Nah. I need support. Help. Accountability. All of it. And on my own, what did I do? Intermittent fasting. Keto. IF again...counting cals... keto again... Through these past few years, I was also so paralyzed by fear. I didn’t know what to do. I kept failing. I didn’t know what to do that would work... it was really scary for a while. I felt I needed bariatric surgery. I saw no hope otherwise. And the price was of course out of reach.... 

And here we are. March 1, 2023. Another do-over. But what else can I do? Stop trying? Give up? No. Like the legend of the phoenix, all ends with beginnings. So again, I rise and try again. Fall down 7 get up 8. To be continued in my next post above.

[tommybaholland]

when they’re needy for their s/o’s attention

featuring: kuroo, kenma, akaashi, kageyama, and nishinoya

kuroo

he walks into the room where he sees you diligently trying to read something in one of your textbooks

he smiles bc you’re so cute and hardworking 

and he almost (almost) feels bad that he’s about to ruin it 

he gets closer and observes that it’s more like you’re staring at the words on the page rather than reading them

“oh, there you are, lovely. do you have a minute?”

you look at him with a dropped expression, slumping over in your chair

“babe, you’ve been in here almost all day. i think it’s time for a break.”

you tell him about the huge chapter that you have to read, annotate, and generate several questions on by tomorrow 

“please, baby? i just want to show you something. you can come back in here after if you want but i wanna show you what i’ve been working on.” 

you halfheartedly agree and he takes you by the hand to lead you into your room 

the first thing you see when you walk in is all the pillows removed from your bed, including your stuffed animals and squishmallows 

they seemed to have migrated to the floor where there was a little awning of blankets which were held up by desk chairs 

“here it is! it’s a cozy, little blanket corner and it’s the perfect size for two.”

you smile and laugh a little at the craftsmanship

he had obviously put some time into this

you feel his fingertips trace over your shoulders as he wraps his arm around you

“so i thought we could watch a movie as a little break and i promise i’ll make sure you get your work done before tomorrow but you don’t have to if you feel like you want to get it done now--”

you respond by simply hugging him tightly around his waist as you thank him, telling him you love it 

he smiles earnestly as he pets down your hair and rubs your back

“of course, kitten.”

he feels smug but happy that his plan had worked 

because he loves getting to spend care-free time with you 

kenma  

less about words, more about (wholesome) actions

and therefore he’s not very subtle about wanting attention 

sits down next to you as you’re doing something for school and will pout like >:| when you don’t immediately greet him or acknowledge his presence

so he decides he has to resort to drastic measures 

he’s a literal cat

bumps his forehead into your shoulder multiple times until you look at him 

sometimes he’ll just simply rest it there and lean into you 

you feel his little forehead bumps or the weight of his head on your shoulder

and you’re like, ‘what is it, ken’

again, he doesn’t speak, he just takes your hand and places it on top of his head 

the silent signal that he wants you to play with his hair 

it’s, without a doubt, one of the cutest things he does 

he lays his head next to your thigh as you rub over the side of his head with one hand as you continue to try to work 

he’ll try to slowly inch his head to rest in your lap 

it’s beginning to hinder your work time, so you suggest that he go play a game or something 

*sigh* “i want to lay with you...also i already played today.”

buries his face into your tummy as he hugs you around your hips

“i’ll help you finish whatever you need later but please, can you just do that thing with my hair? i like that.”

it’s that serious 

and your only choice is to surrender 

so you decide to stop what you’re doing and lean back, placing both your hands in his hair, letting strands slide through your fingers

you put little braids in it like he likes

he sighs contently at the feeling, as it gives him little tingles from his scalp all the way down his spine 

akaashi 

he’s very discrete about wanting attention 

he’ll find you on the couch, working on something on your laptop 

he gets you out of the work trance momentarily to greet and kiss you sweetly on the lips 

he sits down close next to you and peers over your shoulder and asks you what you’re working on 

he’s interested but has no idea what you’re talking about 

“sounds...complex. do you need anything? or maybe want to take a little break?”

you know the ‘do you need anything’ is just his way of saying, “it’s my turn to have your attention.” 

you shake your head and tell him that you’re almost finished

“okay. can i sit here with you, baby?” 

you allow him under one condition

“no, i won’t distract you. i promise.”

that promise doesn’t go very far as he inches closer to you and tries to fit himself behind you, nudging his shoulder behind yours

you eventually ask if he wants to sit behind you

he smiles softly, “yes, please. i’d like that.”

you shift around and get comfy with him now sitting behind you

“just relax and lean into me, babe. there we go. do you mind if i...play with your hair?”

even though you can tell he wants your attention, consent is still at the top of his priorities

(which makes him the sweetest boy)

fools with your hair for a bit until he brushes it all to one shoulder

“is it okay if i..kiss your neck a bit?”

it’s getting harder to concentrate with the feeling of his feather light kisses on your skin, but luckily you only have a few sentences left to write

you feel him pressing closer to you and you ask him what he’s doing

“i’m just wrapping my arms around you and holding you, baby.”

he sits quietly for a bit, holding you tightly around the waist as you finish up your assignment and close your laptop

“oh, you’re finished? do you wanna... finish that show and cuddle now?”

you nod and he grins, “yeah? okay. now, can i have a kiss?”

kageyama

this man is not known to be a master communicator alright 

doesn’t really know how to express his feelings verbally :’(

so he generally tries to hide when he wants your attention 

but then hinata shows him the ‘i want the cuddles’ tiktok 

and at first he cringes and thinks it’s gross 

“i bet your poor s/o must wish they had a boyfriend who would do that!”

“shut UP you turd licker! you’re just jealous that i’m actually in a relationship, unlike YOU >:P”

but in the back of his mind, he wishes he could be the one to do that for you

fortunately you make it very easy for him  

you’ll be reading a book and he’ll come sit close to you and just kinda stare at you 

you feel it on you and you ask him if everything’s okay

“what? ye- yeah, i’m fine.”

you grin, knowing something’s up and ask if he wants to be held  

“no, actually-- i, uh, just, um, i wanted to hold you this time? if that’s okay?”

you’re like, ‘of course it’s okay!!’ but first you finish reading the page of your book that you’re on

once you’re done and the book is officially put down, you ask him where he wants you

he’s visibly nervous and doesn’t know how to say it so he just opens up his arms 

you wrap your arms around his waist and hug him close to you and he leans back so you’re resting on his chest 

his arms wrap around you and the one plays with the hem of your shirt, his fingertips occasionally brushing your skin

he lets out a content sigh at the pressure from you being on top of him 

you ask him if it’s okay for him

“yes, thank you.”

he loves that he has someone as patient as you 

nishinoya 

in terms of level of discreteness, he’s at the bottom out of these boys

honestly will attack you if you’re not doing anything

but you’ll usually hear him before you see him so you’re prepared for the impact

he literally yells and practically jumps at you when he sees you anywhere so you’re pretty used to this very ‘noya display of affection’ 

and it’s no different when you’re alone 

except he tries to be not as loud, especially when it looks like you’re doing something important

“hey, my sweet and gorgeous-- oh, look at you working hard. sorry, i’ll be quiet.”

he’s someone who’s the type to annoy you every five seconds, even in a quieter voice

and he asks about a million questions 

“what are you doing?”

“what does that mean?”

“why do you have to do it like that?”

“haha! sounds like that time me and tanaka had to study for our english final.”

“okay, sorry, i’ll let you do your work.”

but this boy can literally not sit still either and has to change his position on the couch every minute or so

you eventually decide to get up from your seat, wanting to move to the desk where you know you’ll probably get more work done

“hey, where are you going? come back here!”

and you’re like, ‘i love you but..’

“well, maybe if you held me in place, i wouldn’t move around so much!”

you knew exactly where this was going, looking unamused

“aww, c’mon sweetheart.”

and then he starts making that ‘psppspsps’ sound like you do with cats, as if it’s going to get you to willingly go back over to him

“yeah, you’re my cat now. hahahahaha”

you just ignore him and that’s when he gets whiny, very whiny and pouty and kinda dramatic

“c’monnnnnnnnn ughhhhhhhh. please, babyyyyyyyyy i need your cuddles or i’m gonna dieeeeeeee.”

at this point, you’d just give in but there are days were you can ignore him long enough to miraculously get your work done

“are you finished yet-- oh, you are? yay!”

will either sit in your lap or pull you into him to attack your face with kisses 

“let’s go get something to eat! are you hungry? i’m starving.”

hope we’re having fun on this haikyuu night! got any requests??

[kaleidoscope77]

FAVORITE (NaLu One-shot)

Summary: Natsu has always been good at keeping certain feelings in check, but after waking up one early morning and finding himself next to his favorite blonde, he finds it hard to keep his resolve.

Rated: T

Words: 1331

A/N: This was my first ever one shot that I posted to ao3 back in January.

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Natsu inhaled deeply, a feeling of contentment crossing over him as her scent filled his nose. 

He'd woken up earlier than usual, giving him some time to enjoy this moment. Lucy was fast asleep, and she didn't so much as stir when he pulled her towards him by the waist.

He could get lost in her for hours, regardless of the circumstances. On jobs, at the guild, hanging around her apartment, or just early mornings like this, being together with her was his favorite thing to do. Lucy had an effect on him like no other, and it was clear that his feelings for her were far different than his feelings for anyone else.

The guild was in his heart, he'd protect every member with his life, but it was no secret that the blonde in his arms gave him feelings that even Happy hadn't. 

She was like a drug, he found himself being drawn towards her without even realizing it. Every little thing about her drove him crazy, and he fought to keep his transparency. Nothing could best fairy tail's Salamander, and he refused to give in to her temptations. Even so, he could let himself be weak every now and again, at least she was asleep, and Happy was in the other room, so there would be no witnesses. 

His grip around her waist loosened when he heard her mumble under her breath, afraid of getting caught. She'd probably freak out and kick him out of the bed if she knew he'd been cuddling so close to her, and that'd be no good. Not that it made any sense, they've definitely gotten to a point in their relationship where they're much more than friends. 

Between the handholding, rainy day cuddles, and letting him and Happy stay over more, Natsu was sure she'd been opening up to him in a way both of them had been too shy to do so before. Of course, Lucy would always be Lucy, and she was just too quick to fluster up.

Natsu learned that the hard way, too, when he pulled her flush against him and buried his face in the nape of her neck at the guild that one time. Lucy had flinched away from him so hard, he almost toppled over. Later, in the privacy of her home, they had a talk about it- Lucy said she'd just been startled, but Natsu knew she wasn't ready for that type of affection yet, and he'd give her some time before trying anything like that again, at least in public. 

He knows he loves her, but it surprised him to find that he would want so much more from her in their relationship. They'd spent ages as just friends, and even when he realized his feelings, Natsu was fine with what they had. It wasn't until she started getting more comfortable with him did he realize what he was missing. 

Natsu longed to be able to tell the world that she was his, to be able to show her off and claim her. He wished to have her in the way Erza has Jellal, to be able to kiss her in public like Gray does with Juvia, and maybe, to be able to start a family with her like Gajeel and Levy. 

It didn't help that Natsu had no idea how she felt about any of this. Yes, she had been the one to initiate these affectionate, private moments, but they'd never openly spoken about it. Maybe he was just misinterpreting her actions? Maybe there was nothing special about what they had, that she only saw him as no more than a best friend. 

"Natsu?" 

The dragon slayer froze at the sound of her voice, closing his eyes and evening his breath to pretend to be asleep. He'd been so caught up in his thoughts, he hadn't even heard her wake. Hopefully she'd think he'd only cuddled up to her in his sleep and wouldn't be too mad.

Lucy turned to face him, quietly eyeing him up and down. She was testing him, he knew, and he struggled to keep still.

She lowered her face to his, her lips meeting his own in a soft peck. It was too much and not enough at the same time, they hadn't done anything like that before. Natsu couldn't help but open his eyes, the sight of Lucy hovering above him was just breath-taking.

"...Hey." She mumbled, a soft smile quirking at her lips as she looked down at his dazed expression. 

"Hey." He grinned up at her, threading his fingers through her hair and pulling her back down to his lips. The kiss was just as soft as the first but much longer, the two savoring the intimate feeling. As they separated, Natsu nuzzled into her neck, her airy giggles like music to his ears. 

"Lucy…"

"Hm?" 

Natsu inhaled her scent as he thought over his words. He didn't want to offend her or scare her off, but he had to know. 

"...What do you want from me?" 

She laid back down, facing him and idly running her fingers up and down his chest. "What do you mean?"

"I mean… um… do you want more?" This was harder for him to explain than he thought it would be, and he hoped she'd catch on to his meaning on her own.

Of course, just as she always does, Lucy understood him, and she rested her head atop his pectoral as she thought. "...I do want more."

Natsu caressed her cheek, motioning for her to look him in the eyes. "Like what Gajeel and Levy have?" His voice sounded a little more excited than he'd planned, and he hoped he wasn't making her uncomfortable when he noticed her face redden.

"Um… yes, but…"

"But?" 

Lucy bit her lip, looking away from him as she flushed darker. "But… I dunno, I'm kinda scared…"

"Scared of me?" Natsu pouted, he'd hate for her to be afraid of him.

"No, of course not. It's just… I've never had a boyfriend before, I'm scared this'll be too drastic of a change… or, if something bad happens, I'm afraid of our relationship being ruined…"

Despite her words, Natsu found himself smiling at how cute she looked. "I was scared at first, too, but we'll be okay, I know it. 'Sides, you're basically my girl anyway, we just haven't talked about it." He grinned widely, she meant too much to him for him to let their relationship be messed up, and he needed her to understand that.

"I wanna be yours, Luce, and I want you to be mine. Does that make sense?" 

Lucy smiled up at him brightly, leaning up to peck him on the cheek. "Yeah… I want that too, Natsu…" The two got lost in each other, their lips connecting in kiss after kiss, each one more passionate than the last. Lucy separated for air before leaning in to kiss along his neck, her hand coming up to feel along his abs.

"Natsu…" Their eyes met, her hungry look betraying the dark red flush of her cheeks. "I-"

"You loooooooove each other!" The two jolted away from one another at the sound of Happy's tease, Natsu groaning in irritation and Lucy squeaking in embarrassment. 

"Happy! What- How long have you been there!?" Lucy jumped off the bed and began chasing the taunting cat as he zipped out of the window, chanting something along the lines of, "Wait'll I tell the guild about this!"

Natsu sat alone on the bed, over the moon about what just happened and a little afraid that this was all just a dream. That'd been easier than he'd thought, and he sighed happily as he crashed back down on the covers, inhaling Lucy's scent off of the pillows. 

She was like a drug, drawing him in and making him lose himself in her brilliance, and although Natsu hated being bested, she was his favorite battle to lose. 

[giorno-plays-piano]

Cry Little Sister

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, verbal threats, gaslighting, both reader and Peter are high school students, kinda slight incestuous undertones (the characters aren't related, though).

Words: 2214.

Summary: Your adopted older brother is not as nice as he seems, but no one is willing to believe you.

P.S. And yep, I used one of my favourite citations from Grishaverse in the end of this story. Hope you enjoy!

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"Peter, sweetheart, I knew you'd make it!" Your mother had clasped her hands together while your father patted Peter's shoulder. "The best test results in the whole class! My goodness, we need to celebrate it!"

You smiled at them tiredly, seeing the faces of your parents practically glowing. True, Peter was a damn smart guy. You had never achieved such high results despite all those nights you spent studying, while he didn't care much about it at all, it seemed. You hadn't seen him with a book yet.

"I'm gonna bake an apple pie for you." A smile of your mother made you feel bitter, and you averted your eyes, missing an odd look your older adopted brother sent you.

Half a year ago he finally came to live with your family once your parents finished gathering all the papers and waited for almost a year to receive "the call". You remembered how you had jumped happily in the living room along with your mom, believing it was finally over. Well, maybe it was over for Peter, but for you it was only a beginning. You could hardly imagine the sweet skinny guy who you considered very shy and bashful would change so drastically.

It started very subtle. First, Peter was trying to be helpful, assisting you when you did the housework - he was actually way better at cooking and cleaning than you and easily got praised by your mom. You were truly thankful to him for his help, especially since it was easier to get to know him while working together. It was then when you first spotted the odd looks he was sending you when he thought you didn't see. There was something... uneasy lingering in his gaze. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but sometimes Peter made you shiver with the way he spoke or touched you discreetly. It was strange. Of course, the boy didn't do or tell you something that would make you worried, but you just couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. You blamed it on the fact you couldn't get accustomed to a new life with an adopted brother yet. Surely, it wasn't supposed to be easy?

But the more you spent time together, the stronger that feeling got. Despite Peter becoming a part of your family as easily as if he had always been your parents' son, you were wary of his sudden urges to touch you and always keep you in his sight. At first you thought he was just touch starved and needed human warmth. Maybe for Peter it was just easier to come to you rather than your parents since you were almost the same age as him.  But then... one day you saw him going through your things and taking one of your lipsticks from your makeup bag. You suddenly remembered losing a lip gloss two weeks ago.

Trying to voice your concerns, you talked to your mom who was so insensitive she went to speak with Peter right away. Of course, he said it wasn't true and you had probably misunderstood him since he only wanted to borrow a pen. He even showed his table and wardrobe to demonstrate he didn't hide anything.

From that time Peter had changed. He didn't hide his unhealthy behavior from you anymore, and he was scaring you with the things he had done, keeping an eye on you when you were around and stalking you if you were not, never staying far away aside from the time he had to be in class.

Of course, he sensed that you were becoming resteless, less and less eager to spend time with him, blaming it on lots of homework or sudden meetings with friends. You weren't blind to his frightening affection - if you could call his feelings like that. Why was he doing it? Despite spending only several months living with you, your parents loved him dearly, paying him twice more attention than you. You had never protested against it, knowing a poor soul like him who didn't have his own family needed all the help he could get now. But this... this wasn't alright. This wasn't a feeling siblings should have for each other. Did Peter consider you one? Did you truly consider him your older brother? You weren't sure. Nevertheless, it still didn't feel right.

Carefully, you attempted to talk to your father about it, vagualy wording your concerns and giving him little details - sure, you didn't like how Peter was behaving, but he didn't deserve to be banished from your family and sent back. You still believed something could be done to set everything right. Maybe the boy just didn't realize things were not supposed to work this way in a family. However, your father laughed it all off. He said little girls like you were thinking too much of themselves lately, claiming the whole world was obsessed with them. Peter simply tried to be a good brother and look out for you.

You had never felt more humiliated in your entire life.

Dropping all attempts to bring Peter's unhealthy behaviour to your parents' attention, you decided there was just one thing to do - separate yourself from him completely.

No more doing the housework together, no more chats in the kitchen in the morning, no more having lunch together at school, no more cuddles in the evening. You kept yourself as busy as you could - in the morning you did jogging, at school you spent time with your friends, in the evening you were taking your books and doing your homework in the park, at your friend's place or anywhere convenient. Even though Peter tried following you, you had started to change places all of a sudden to keep him away from you.

This was when he had enough of you distancing yourself.

Suddenly, Peter fighted for affection of your parents with such ferocity as if you tried to strip him of their love. His gradea were suddenly way better than yours - he claimed he had finally felt safe in his new home and could spent his energy elsewhere. The way he behaved was even more sweet than before. On the other hand, strange things started happening to you: once your mother found your expensive satin blouse torn and blamed it on you and your carelessness; the other time the chicken you cooked was so salty it ended in a trash bin; your friend received threats coming from your phone number, though you had never ever sent anything like that to her.

It was easy to guess who was doing this to you, but Peter never admitted it out loud. Talking to your parents was worthless, too, as in their eyes the boy was a pure blessing. How could you blame him for things you did to catch their attention?

Shit. You knew something was wrong with Peter, but you could hardly imagine to what extent he could go to have his way. It was unbelievable a boy like him could manipulate people so easily, wrapping them around his finger. Why was he doing it? Everyone already loved him. Everyone but you.

"Y/N!" Your mother's sharp voice broke the silence, and you hurried downstares, finding your mom near the washing machine with a wet black sock in her hands. "Are you out of your mind?! Did you put your black socks in there when I said to bring your WHITE clothes?!"

"But I didn't!" You gawked at her, knowing perfectly you only brought her what she asked you to. "I swear I didn't!"

"Oh yes, of course, it's Peter who went through your dirty clothes to incriminate you, dear." She sneered at you. "You have to come up with a new excuse, this is getting old. Look what you've done, my white jeans are ruined!"

"Please, mom, I-"

"Go to your room. I don't want to see or hear you." She snapped, tossing the sock to the floor as you stared at her in horror. She had never been so irritated like in the past month when your "slip-ups" were happening more and more often.

Racing upstairs, you pressed your hand to your mouth, trying not to cry. Why was he still doing it to you? Why did Peter want everything to be like he wished? Why did your parents never believe you? It was you who was their true daugther, for God's sake!

Locking the door, you fell down on your bed, burying your head in your soft pillow. It started to become unbearable. Why was this all happening? Despite your growing hate towards Peter, you couldn't say that he was ugly and unpleasant. He was easy on the eyes and could be really nice to people around him, and it made Peter quite popular among the girls at school. Why on Earth didn't he set his eyes on anyone other than you? There were plenty of girls who'd be willing to date him and give him as much attention as he wanted.

You wiped away your angry tears with your pillow, biting on your lower lip. It was unfair, and you weren't going to give in to him just because Peter wanted to play with you like a spoiled child. You'd find a way to prove you weren't guilty of all those things he wanted to pin on you, you just needed to gather yourself and think properly.

Suddenly, you heard someone knocking on your window and rushed to it immediately: your room was on the third floor. Seeing Peter sitting on the bench of a tree, you gasped in shock. You opened the window right away, praying for him to stay still.

"Are you out of your mind?" You whispered in horror, holding out your hand to him. "What are you doing there?!"

He smiled at you like nothing was happening, taking your arm and crawling towards your window. In the next moment he was already inside your room, grinning like a kid and shutting the window behind himself. You furrowed your brows, your heart racing. Peter was insane!

"What if you slipped?" You asked him furiously. "Are you mad? Do you want to die?!"

"No, but you wouldn't let me in your room unless I came in the window." He admitted carelessly and smiled, reaching out to you and enveloping you in a hug. "I'm glad you don't want me to fall."

"You're out of your mind, brother." You grunted, trying to push him away, but his grip was only becoming stronger. "What are you doing? Let me go, please."

"But I want a hug from you. Is it so bad?"

You clenched your teeth, watching him angrily. "You just made my mom scream at me for that stupid sock. You think you deserve a hug?"

"I only did it because you're stubborn. It's your fault I had come to this, Y/N." His sickly sweet smile made you nauseated as you put your hands on his chest in attempt to keep him away. "Come on, why have you been acting so cold? I just want to be a part of your family."

"Are you serious?"

Your eyes could burn a hole in his face as you stared at him, getting more and more angry with his behaviour and trying to blame you for his own actions.

"This isn't like it should be in a family, Peter. We're siblings now. Siblings don't do it... l-like that." You felt your face growing hot as you became deeply embarrassed, knowing how your words could be interpreted.

"But we're not siblings, are we?" He tilted his head to the side, narrowing his dark eyes at you and smiling widely.

You growled in irritation, still unable to get rid of him holding you like a doll in his hands.

"If you don't want me to be your sister, what family are you talking about, then?"

"We'll, it's not the only family I can have with you, right?"

You stilled, unsure you understood what Peter meant as he chuckled with content, watching you getting more and more confused while he gently caressed your back. What other family he could possibly mean?

It took you a few seconds to realize he was talking about marriage between you two.

Your eyes popped out of its sockets. Was he fucking serious? That kind of family? No, he should have been out of his mind completely. He definitely had to see a psychiatrist or something!

"You're joking, aren't you?" You muttered, shocked. "You can't be serious!"

"But I am, sister." Peter's sweet smile was slowly turning sinister as he leaned closer to you, dropping a kiss to your temple as you shivered against him, wanting nothing but get away. "And you better stop with that silly attitude of yours if you don't want me to get real angry."

"And what are you going to do if I don't? What if I will tell everyone about this?"

He smirked, touching your forehead with his and closing his eyes for a second.

"I see you still don't understand." Peter whispered to you, watching you getting more and more nervous. “I will strip away all that you know, all that you love, until you have no one but me.”

___________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@void-hoechlin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight

[ssajj]

Experience

Basically, a collection of moments from dating Spencer. Features Spencer learning how to knit, his little tummy, a few mishaps, and how much he loves you. 

gn! reader, 2.7k

“Did you know that it’s believed knitting originated in the Middle East around the fifth century?” Spencer asks you, wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on your shoulder. 

You feel a small smile growing on your face. “I didn’t know that, actually.”

“Since knitting is largely defined by the yarn used, it’s also interesting to note that early Egyptians used cotton fibers instead of wool. However, by the time the practice made it to Europe, wool was the primary material used.”

“What’s got you looking into knitting?” You turn around in his arms, pressing a kiss to his nose. 

He blushes, which is exactly what you wanted. Since the beginning of your relationship, you always try to foster an environment where Spencer feels comfortable talking about his interests. You hate the way his face falls when he gets cut off or when he realizes that the person he’s talking to clearly isn’t interested. The team loves him, you know this, and you also understand that the middle of a case isn’t the best time for him to ramble about something random, but you do wish they’d be better about it when they weren’t on a case. So far, little acts of love are the most effective way to let Spencer know that you care. 

“I wanted to try it.”

“Yeah?”

His blush gets deeper. “According to a few studies I’ve seen, knitting can be considered a psychosocial activity that encourages stress relief. It can also improve fine motor skills, cognitive anchoring, and reduce awareness of pain. Some therapists are even using it as a technique with their patients.”

You hum. “Sounds cool. Do you have all the stuff you need? What do you even need, just needles and yarn?”

“No, not yet,” he says, pausing. You wait for him to continue. “Can you come with me?”

“Duh.”

An hour later, the two of you are at Michael’s. It’s the first time either of you has ever been in, and frankly, the store is huge. You look around with wide eyes. “Good thing the aisles are marked, huh?”

You take Spencer’s hand, letting him trail behind you as you find the aisle with all the yarn. There are so many colors to the point where it seems overwhelming. “Any clue what colors you want to start with?”

To your surprise, Spencer seems to know exactly what he wants. Without saying anything to you, he heads toward the yellow section, pondering for only a few seconds before grabbing a few and heading back to you. 

“Yellow?” You question, holding out the basket you’d grabbed. “I figured you’d go for like...neutrals or something.”

Spencer places his pick in the basket. “Greys, blacks, beiges, browns, and whites are generally considered neutral colors.”

“And you got yellow.”

He nods.

“Do I get to know why you picked yellow?”

He shakes his head, some of his hair falling in front of his face from the action. “Eventually.”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, Mr. Secretive. Let’s go get the other things you need.”

…

Spencer continues to be oddly secretive about the entire knitting thing. He tells you about it, sure, but he tends to work on his projects when he’s off on cases and won’t let you see them after. 

“Eventually,” he keeps repeating, even after you try to bribe him with cupcakes. 

Because you’re a weak human being, you give him the cupcakes anyway. You’ve never been able to resist his puppy eyes. 

After he grabs a cupcake, he joins you on the couch, pulling you against him with his hand on your waist. “These are really good, bub,” he tells you. “I’ve missed your baking.” You adjust so that you’re laying down, head resting in his lap. You kiss his stomach, smiling when he lets out a little giggle. God, you’re so in love with him. You’ve loved watching him become more confident, you’ve loved watching him become comfortable in his body, and you’ve loved watching his smile come out more and more. When you first started dating, you never thought he’d be the giggling type. 

“I’ve missed baking,” you admit. “Work’s just been crazy.”

"I know," he says, tangling his hand in your hair. "You've been more stressed."

Sighing, you shift again so your face is practically buried against his stomach. "I know. And it's stupid. It isn't like my job is even that hard. Nothing like hunting down a billion serial killers."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, just long enough for shame to start burning through you. Before you can start backtracking, apologizing for being stressed over nothing, he pulls you up, settling you so you're seated in his lap. "Y/N," he says, shaking his head. "Your job is important. And you're allowed to be stressed over it. You help people in a different way than I do, but that doesn't make it inherently lesser."

You hum. 

"I'm serious!"

"Be a weird thing to joke about," you mutter. "Look, it's fine. Seriously. You don't need to try to make me feel better."

He kisses your forehead. "I love you. I'm always going to try and make you feel better."

…

Spencer has a bad case. You can tell the second you see him, the brief moment the two of you lock eyes before he slams into you, rocking you back on your heels as his arms wrap around you. 

"Hey, hey," you soothe, rubbing circles along his back. "C'mon, Spence. Breathe with me."

He sucks in a few panicked breaths, his grip on you tightening. You make sure to keep your breathing even, coaxing your boyfriend to follow the rhythm. Eventually, he settles down enough that you feel okay pulling away a little. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" You ask. 

He shakes his head. "Can we just go to bed?"

You've never been one to say no to him, so you don't. Instead, you let him lean on you as you make your way to bed, helping him strip off his clothes and get into something more comfortable before sliding under the sheets. 

"I don't know what I'd do without you," he whispers, voice sounding raw. 

"You'll never have to find out."

…

Significant others are always allowed at team hangouts, so you, Beth, and Will are all gathered at a table with the BAU at their favorite bar. Morgan and Penelope are off dancing, Rossi’s chatting up a confused looking bartender, Hotch is glued to Beth's side, JJ and Emily are playing darts, and Spencer's standing behind you, letting you rest against him. 

"I love you," you blurt out randomly, twisting in his arms. You think you can hear Beth's "awww" from where she's seated. "Like, a ton."

Instead of answering, he kisses you. It sends an electric current through you, just like it always does. His hands come up to cup your face, tilting your chin to allow you better access. Your arms go around his hips. Every time he touches you, it always feels like you're on fire but in the best possible way. You'd let yourself burn like this for an eternity, you'd let yourself stay in his arms and melt away. 

"Whoa, there!" Morgan shouts, making you smile into the kiss and ruin it. Spencer's smiling too though, so it's okay. "Keep it PG, you two! Mom and dad are here!"

"Mom and dad?" Will questions. 

You don't let go of Spencer, but you do turn your head to look at Will. Spencer's hands drop down to your shoulders, like he can't stand not touching you either. "Hotch and Rossi," you explain. 

He nods, even though he still looks pretty confused. 

After an hour, Spencer wanders off with Morgan, asking the older agent something about Star Trek that you don't quite catch. You trust him well enough with your boyfriend, so you make your way over to JJ and Emily. "I have an important question."

They both turn to look at you, eyebrows raised. For people who were so drastically different, they have a lot of the same mannerisms. You wonder if they got them from each other. 

“Do you know what Spencer’s been knitting?”

JJ gives you a small smile as Emily starts giggling. 

“That’s your very important question?” Emily asks. 

You nod. “Sure is.”

“He said we aren’t allowed to tell you,” JJ shrugs. “I’m sure you can figure out why.”

Frankly, it takes you an embarrassingly long time to allow the dots to connect in your brain. When it does, you can feel your entire body soften. “Oh. He’s making me something.”

Emily rolls her eyes. “Did it take you this long to realize that? I thought Spencer liked smart people.”

“Em!” JJ chides gently before refocusing her attention back on you. “She’s kidding. Spencer will give you what he’s been working on once he’s happy with the final product.”

As you walk back to your table, you ignoring the warring feelings in your gut.

…

“Why do you always ask me “did you know” before you start rambling about something?”

It’s late, and your question catches Spencer off guard. He rolls over in bed so that you’re facing each other. “What do you mean, love?”

You bite your lip, chewing at it as you think. Before you can even answer him, he reaches out and pulls it free. 

“You’re going to make yourself bleed if you do that.”

He’s right. He’s always right. “I was just wondering if, well. If you’re going to get bored of me, since I’m not nearly as smart as you.”

Spencer sucks in a breath. “Y/N, where is this coming from?”

You shrug one shoulder. “Dunno. Look, why don’t we just forget-”

“I’m not going to forget about it,” he interrupts, voice surprisingly stern. “Even if my mind allowed me to forget about things, I wouldn’t want to forget about this. Because honestly, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life.”

When you go to speak again, he takes one of your hands and brings it up to his face, kissing it gently, effectively shocking you back into silence. 

“I love you,” he says like it’s the simplest thing in the world. He’s still holding your hand. “You make me happier than I thought I could be, happier than I thought I deserved to be. And I know I’m not always great with words or emotions, but you need to understand how important you are to me. You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I fall asleep. When I’m feeling down, I know that I can turn to you and you’ll help soothe me and I hope you know you can always come to me, too. When I talk, you listen. And you aren’t even listening just to placate me, or out of pity. You’re really, truly listening. You engage with the conversation, and you do your best to remember the things we converse about. When I learn something new, I’m excited to talk about it with you. When we’re together, I count how many times you’ve smiled. One, because it’s gorgeous. Two, because I need to make sure you’re happy, and if you’re not, I need to help as much as I can, becuase you always deserve to be smiling and happy. I just- I trust you in a way I’ve never trusted anyone else, Y/N. With my mind, my body, with everything. I don’t need someone with the same IQ as me. I don’t want someone with the same IQ as me. I just want you.”

“Spencer,” you breathe, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. 

“I know it can be hard not to doubt yourself. It’s a natural human emotion. But I just need to make sure that you’re aware that I’ve never doubted you, okay? And if you need a reminder, just let me know.” He wipes at the corners of your eyes, catching the tears. 

“I love you.” He smiles. “I know.”

…

Spencer laughs when you jump on his lap, a soft exhale of breath escaping. “Yes, dear?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“Guess what I did this morning?”

“What?” “Made you cookies.”

His eyes light up. “Chocolate chip?” You give him a quick kiss. “Of course. Let me go grab them.”

In one quick movement, Spencer stands, sweeping you into his arms. You shriek, lacing your fingers together behind his neck for extra security. 

“What’s happening?”

“We’re going to get the cookies you made,” he tells you, starting to walk toward the kitchen. 

You laugh. “I guess working out with Morgan has been going well, huh? As long as you don’t lose your tummy.���

He blushes. He knows how much you love his entire body, but he also knows how much you love that one area in particular. 

Once you’re in the kitchen, he puts you back on your feet, but still wrapping his arms around your midsection. By now, you’re used to his tactile nature, but it had come as a shock to you back at the beginning of your relationship. Spencer had told you a million times that he wasn’t particularly touchy, and that had been fine. You’ve seen him dodge other people’s handshakes and hugs. After a few months, though, you figured out that he loved affection from the people that he cared about. It’d been obvious in the way he always stood a little too close to Morgan and JJ, in the way he let them ruffle his hair with a smile on his face, and the way he hugged them like the thought of germs or cross-contamination never even entered that big brain of his. When he started getting like that with you, it had made you want to weep. 

The cookies are in a tin on the counter, so you don’t have to separate from Spencer to grab them. “Here,” you say, opening it up. “Here’s the result of my day off.”

…

“Okay!” You announce loudly, covering Spencer’s paperwork with your hands. “I was under the impression that a certain someone isn’t allowed to work from home when he’s injured?”

Spencer glares at you, not that there’s any real heat behind it. “I’m bored.”

“You’re injured, honey.”

Last week, you’d gotten the most terrifying phone call from JJ, who told you in a shaky breath that Spencer had been shot. She assured you that he’d be okay, but you didn’t breathe again until you were in his arms, his voice filling all your senses. 

Despite him continuing to protest, he doesn’t stop you as you pack up everything on the table, placing it on the counter. “I know you don’t like to let your mind wander,” you acknowledge “But you need to let yourself rest a little bit. C’mon. Come sit with me in the living room, I’ll get us takeout.”

Five hours later, the two of you have binged the worst reality show you’ve ever seen. Spencer had watched most of it with his mouth slightly open, like he couldn’t even believe what he was watching. “Hey,” he whispers. “Thank you for taking care of me.” “Always.”

…

On your birthday, you get to find out what he’s been knitting. 

It’s painfully early in the morning, but you and Spencer had agreed to celebrate early, since you were both nervous about him getting called away on a case during the day. He hands it to you with a blush coloring his nose and you unwrap it gently. 

It’s a winter set. A hat, a pair of gloves, and the softest looking scarf. They’re all the same shade of yellow he picked out when you went with him to Michael’s. 

“I know it’s kind of stupid-” he starts. 

You interrupt him with a kiss, pulling him against you and letting him deepen it. He smiles against your lips. “Does that mean you like it?” “I love it, Spence.”

He’s standing above you, so you put the gifts on the table to give him room to sit on your lap. He does almost instantly, pressing his forehead against yours. “The color reminds me of you. Sunshine.” You don’t think you can ever be any happier than you are at this moment. You bask in it, in him. “You’re perfect.”

[kpop-zone]

Selfish | Jihyo

Hogwarts AU | Enemies to Lovers | “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck this shit. Fuck.”

Wordcount: 3,890

A/N: Sorry if the formatting is weird, but Tumblr won’t let me post anything on my computer, so I had to post this from my phone 😬

“Y/N!”

When Jihyo saw you running through the hallway, she could immediately feel anger seething within her, and she called your name with a sharp tone.

“Oh Jihyo, fancy meeting you here.”

After hearing her voice, you had stopped running abruptly and were now grinning at her sheepishly, pretending like you didn’t know why she was staring you down.

“Stop feigning innocence, Y/N. You’re late. Again! Snape will for sure deduct some points from Gryffindor.”

Jihyo felt like ripping your head off. Of all the Gryffindors you were by far the most reckless one and usually involved when your house lost some points in one way or another. Your favorite activity was to prank Slytherins which always led to particularly hard punishments for your house by Professor Snape, the head of Slytherin. But you just didn’t seem to learn from your mistakes.

“You’re late too though...”

You smirked cheekily, causing her to get even angrier.

“Yeah but I have this opposing to you.”

With her right hand, she pulled out McGonagall’s letter that allowed her to be late for classes if her position as prefect required it and waved it in front of your face.

“That’s unfair.”

You pouted and Jihyo had to suppress her laughter. It was a little unfair indeed. She had simply overslept this morning, but as a prefect, she rarely got punished for anything. But she always told herself that she deserved those benefits. After all, she had to deal with you and your shenanigans almost every day.

“It’s not. I had some...important stuff to do this morning. And now go before we’re even later!”

She lied and you rolled your eyes before starting to run again.

Like expected, both of you arrived late to class and Snape gave you a lecture about the unreliability of Gryffindors for almost fifteen minutes. At the end, he took away some points from Gryffindor with a smug grin tugging on his lips, causing Jihyo to curse you silently. She was sure that Gryffindor had only lost the house cup championships to Slytherin because of you the past years. This year, she had to put a stop to it. Talking with you, however, wasn’t useful. The two of you were in your fifth year already and not once had you listened to her. She had to find another way to keep you in check. The only question was how... The options had thinned out over the years and it seemed like she was only left with one by now. Despite hating you with a passion though, that option seemed to be a little drastic and Jihyo had shied away from pursuing it until now. A fact that changed, however, when she walked into the Gryffindor common room that night.

“That was hilarious...”

“You should have seen Sejoo’s face.”

“I would have never dared to do that.”

Agitated chatter was filling the whole room and Jihyo immediately knew that something bad must have happened; something that most likely was connected with you in some way.

“What happened?”

Jihyo huffed while plopping down next to Jeongyeon on the couch.

“I don’t think you want to know...”

Her friend responded hesitantly and Jihyo buried her face in her hands in desperation.

“Y/N?”

She asked although she already knew the answer to her question.

“Yeah...Let’s just say the incident involved Y/N, Sejoo, the ‘Ossio Dispersimus’ spell and... a 200-points deduction for Gryffindor.”

Hearing the statement of Jeongyeon, Jihyo’s head snapped up and she looked at her classmate bewildered.

“200 POINTS???”

She yelled, causing the surrounding Gryffindors to look at her in shock. But Jihyo couldn’t care less about them. Enough was enough. You could be glad that you weren’t in the room right now, because she was sure that she would kill you if you were standing in front of her in this moment. You had once again ruined the championship for them with your selfishness and she was tired of it. You had to disappear. If you weren’t part of the student body anymore, Gryffindor couldn’t lose points because of you. And there was one easy way to reach that: she needed to get you suspended for the rest of the year and she already knew how.

If there was one person in this school that hated you more than she did, it was Snape. He had tried to get rid of you on several occasions, but your misdeeds had never been severe enough to make him reach his goal. But if she would help a little, she was sure that they could get you out of the way with joined forces. It was a risky scheme, but Jihyo was sure that she could come up with the perfect plan. For two weeks, she martyred her brain to find a way to set you up while protecting her own reputation simultaneously. Coincidentally and much to Jihyo’s chagrin, you didn’t get into any more trouble in those two weeks. On the contrary, you actually stood out for behaving extremely exemplary. You were the first one to appear in every class and the last one to leave because you offered your help to the teachers who often made you stay longer to clean up the classroom. You also didn’t roam around in the hallways anymore after curfew and didn’t even prank the Slytherins. In fact, there were now other Gryffindors that did more mischief than you.

Your good behavior didn’t manage to lift Jihyo’s mood though. If any, it made it worse. Now that she had finally decided to take action against you, you were playing innocent? Of course, her conscience was immediately telling her to stop her plan and to give you another chance. But her brain strongly opposed to that idea. Your good behavior wasn’t enough to erase all the trouble that you had caused the rest of the year. Therefore, she decided to follow through with her plan, even though her bad conscience heavily weighted down on her.

On the due date of her plan, Jihyo went to the library, tightly clasping a letter in her hand while nervously looking around. Being secretive definitely wasn’t her strong suit. As a prefect, she usually advocated honesty and compliance, so everything that she was doing right now went against her principles. She kept telling herself that it was for the good of Gryffindor, but the little voice in her head kept telling her that she was acting out of pure selfishness and it took all of Jihyo’s strength to muffle it. Arriving in the library, she scanned the students and soon found the perfect protagonists of her scheme. There were some first-year Slytherins roaming the aisles, apparently searching for some books to help them solve their Transfiguration homework. Their school supplies were scattered across a table next to one of the huge windows in the library and Jihyo approached it while skimming her letter one more time.

If you want to learn some curses that they don’t teach at school, come to the Forbidden Forest at midnight.

Sincerely,

Y/N L/N

Jihyo cringed at the primitivity of the letter, but she knew that it would work. Slytherins were overachievers with an affinity for illegal activities. They would be too intrigued by the offer to turn it down. After looking around one last time to make sure that no one was watching her, Jihyo dropped the letter on the table of the first years before scurrying off. Her heart was beating out of her chest and she felt like she was close to passing out. She didn’t know how anyone could enjoy going against the rules; she felt absolutely miserable right now. Not being able to be around people any longer, Jihyo wanted to rush off to her dormitory, but before she could leave the library, someone suddenly called her name.

“Jihyo!”

Jihyo didn’t need a second to realize who the voice belonged to and her body froze instantly. Had you caught her red-handed? For a split second, she considered running away, but before she had the chance to, she could already feel your hand on her shoulder. Reluctantly, she turned around with guilt reflecting in her eyes, ready to get yelled at by you.

“Um...I know it’s a little late, but I wanted to apologize to you.”

You mumbled sheepishly and Jihyo’s jaw dropped. That was definitely not what she had expected to hear from you.

“I know that I’m the reason for a lot of your worries and I also know that I took it too far with the incident with Sejoo two weeks back. I’m really sorry about that and I will try my best to make it up to you and the whole house. I’m proud to be a Gryffindor, so I want to make you guys proud in return too from now on.”

You continued while firmly looking into her eyes as if you wanted to convey the seriousness of your words by allowing her a glance into your soul. A glance that Jihyo didn’t want, because she could feel the complete sincerity of your apology and it made her actions even harder to bear. Why did you need to tell her all this now?

“Um...i-it’s a little late for regret now, don’t you think?”

Jihyo stuttered, trying to sound snappish, but her bad conscience forbade her to harm you even more. You didn’t seem to notice the lack of sharpness in her voice though. Instead, you looked like a beaten puppy who was painfully aware of their misdeeds.

“I know and I’m really sorry. I hope you know that this is nothing personal. I’m really grateful that you’re our prefect, no one would be better at this job than you. I’ve never meant to upset you with my actions.”

You smiled sadly, managing to break Jihyo’s heart. What had she done? You didn’t deserve to be suspended and she didn’t deserve your kind words. What person would set somebody up like this? She needed to get that letter back. Panicked, she looked over your shoulder to the table of the first years, but to her sorrow, the Slytherins were nowhere to be seen. They must have left the library already. Looking back at you, she could see that you were anxiously waiting for some kind of response and she would have loved nothing more than to give you the chance to explain yourself. Maybe the two of you had started off on the wrong foot right from the start. But there was no time to talk right now; she needed to get that letter back first.

“I need to go.”

Jihyo exclaimed breathlessly before running out of the library, leaving you behind with a confused expression on your face. Frantically, she ran down the corridor while scanning the passing people. Yellow, blue and red uniforms passed her by but not a single green one.

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck this shit. FUCK! Where are those little brats??”

She cursed under her breath as she reached the stairs. She had no idea where the Slytherin common room was and even if she did follow another Slytherin student there, she would not know the passwords to enter. Desperately, Jihyo grasped her hair and turned around her own axis. What was she supposed to do now? The castle was too big to find the first years. Panicked, she walked up and down the corridor, trying to think of a way to prevent the fatal consequences of her plan from happening. Her only chance was to stop the first years from going to the Forbidden Forest tonight. If she could intercept the Slytherins on their way to the meeting point, they couldn’t get caught by a preofessor and the letter wouldn’t come into play. It was the only way to make this right.

Therefore, Jihyo reluctantly went to the Gryffindor common room where she waited on the couch in front of the chimney like on pins and needles. The hours passed painfully slow, but after a while one fellow student after the other left the common room to go to bed until Jihyo was the only one left. 11:45, the clock face read, causing her to jump off the couch and to stumble to the exit. Under no circumstances, she could let the first years slip through her fingers; she needed to stop them. Being allowed to roam the hallways after curfew as a prefect, Jihyo didn’t worry about running into any professors and headed straight to the entrance hall where she was just about to open the heavy double doors when they suddenly swung open without her help.

“Oh Ms. Park, I’m glad to meet you here. Look who I’ve found loitering outside.”

Mr. Filch croaked smugly while dragging two of the first years from the library by their robes.

Shit.

Jihyo tried to fake a smile, but on the inside she felt like dying. How was she supposed to change the course of these events now?

“What a lucky catch. Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Filch. I can take them to their head of house.”

She tried to pull the first years to her side, but Mr. Filch tightly clasped their uniforms.

“It’s ok. I will accompany you. I want to propose some punishments.”

He giggled ugly before shoving the scared Slytherins forward. Reluctantly, Jihyo followed them to Professor Snape’s office while martyring her brain to find a solution for this hopeless situation. But there didn’t seem to be one. Before she knew it, Mr. Filch already knocked on the dark oak door to Snape’s office which swung open a second later to reveal the irritated-looking professor.

“What?”

He grumbled and Mr. Filch snickered silently.

“I’ve found two of your students outside. After curfew.”

Mr. Filch put exaggerated emphasis on his last sentence, causing Professor Snape to grunt angrily before motioning all of them to come inside. He looked at the two first years in disgust, making Jihyo wonder why he was the head of Slytherin in the first place.

“P-professor Snape, we can explain.”

One of the Slytherins stuttered anxiously before pulling out Jihyo’s letter from his robe, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. She couldn’t just rip it out of the younger student’s hands and destroy it, right? That would be too suspicious. Instead, she had to watch how Snape took the letter and started reading it grimly before his face lit up suddenly.

“Y/N...”

He mumbled, looking happier than Jihyo had ever seen him before.

“Let’s pay Professor McGonagall a visit.”

Before anyone could disagree with him, Snape already scurried out of the room and the rest of them had to follow him wordlessly. Jihyo didn’t know who looked more miserable right now. The two first years or herself. All of them slouched their shoulders and regret was written all over their faces. Filch and Snape on the other hand resembled two Cheshire cats, especially after bolting into Professor McGonagall’s office.

“Y/N has endangered the lives of two first years. I plead for an immediate suspension.”

Professor Snape blurted out before giving the other professor the chance to process this ambush. Jihyo had never been more distressed in her life to have a plan of hers work out just like she had wanted it to.

“I beg your pardon?”

Professor McGonagall asked confused, causing Snape to snicker in amusement.

“These two students here have willfully been lured into a life-threatening situation by Y/N L/N, your student.”

He repeated himself while handing over Jihyo’s letter. Silently, the head of Gryffindor read the harmful words before sighing in desperation.

“That is a severe delinquency indeed...but I’m sure there must be an explanation for this.”

Professor McGonagall was quick to jump to your defense, causing Jihyo to draw hope that was destroyed a second later though when Snape scoffed dismissively.

“Yes, there is an explanation. Y/N L/N is a danger for this school, or have you forgotten about the incident with Sejoo only two weeks back? As a responsible head of house, I can’t tolerate such behavior.”

He narrowed his eyes and Professor McGonagall straightened up defensively.

“I haven’t forgotten about that, but if I may remind you, it was your student who used a slur about Ms. Park’s decent here that caused this whole incident.”

She bit back while pointing at Jihyo who flinched in surprise. What did Professor McGonagall mean by that?

An unsettling feeling started to form in Jihyo’s stomach, and she gulped thickly. What if everything wasn’t like it had seemed?

“That still doesn’t justify the endangerment of fellow students.”

Snape tried to distract from the misdeeds of his own student, leading to a stare down between the two heads of houses. The tension in the room increased with every second until the door of the office suddenly swung open. Inside came Filch accompanied by you, causing Jihyo’s eyes to widen. She hadn’t even noticed that the caretaker had left the room.

“I’ve taken the liberty to bring L/N in.”

He snickered before shoving you into the room.

You ended up standing next to Jihyo and looked at her nervously.

“W-what is this about?”

You stuttered, trying to sound relaxed although a slight trembling in your voice gave away that your heart had to be pounding in your chest.

“You have been caught red-handed. It’s over.”

Snape grinned while pointing at the letter in Professor McGonagall’s hand. Confused, you frowned, obviously not being able to know what he was talking about.

“Why would you lure them into the Forbidden Forest?”

The head of Gryffindor asked in disappointment and you looked at Jihyo for help.

“I did what?”

The confusion and fright in your voice was unmistakable and Jihyo hung her head in shame.

“Quit playing innocent Y/N. We have all the proof we need!”

Snape yelled causing you to flinch in shock. In reflex, Jihyo immediately grabbed your hand and you squeezed it tightly.

“You’re going down for this! You lured two first years into the Forbidden Forest. They could have died if Mr. Filch wouldn’t have found them in time. I will not let this go until you are suspended for the rest of the year.”

With every word more tears started to pool in your eyes and Jihyo couldn’t manage to avert her gaze from you. You looked so helpless right now and all she wanted to do was to save you from this horrible place.

“I-I don’t know what you are talking about. I have never seen this letter before. Why would I Iure first years into the Forbidden Forest??”

Your voice cracked in desperation, but Snape just kept on accusing you aggressively. After all, you had a history of pranking Slytherins. Jihyo couldn’t imagine how wronged you had to feel right now, and she gently rubbed your hand with her thumb, not knowing whether she was trying to calm you or herself down by doing so. She knew that she could end all this by admitting that it had been her who had left the letter, but despite being a Gryffindor, she wasn’t brave enough to do that. How was she supposed to explain it? How would she be supposed to ever look into your eyes again?

“That’s enough. We’ve understood your point, Professor.”

Professor McGonagall eventually ended Snape’s rant before looking at you with a sad face.

“I see how this incident is out of character for you, Y/N. Nevertheless, I have to agree with Professor Snape, the evidence is overwhelming. Therefore...you are hereby suspended until we can prove your innocence.”

Your jaw dropped, hearing these words from the head of Gryffindor and you looked at Jihyo as if she was your last hope. But she wasn’t strong enough to save you. Instead, she flung her arms around your neck and pulled you against her body.

“I’m so sorry.”

She sobbed, not being able to hold back her own tears anymore. Suddenly, however, she could feel how you started to stroke her back soothingly.

“Hey, it’s ok. This is not your fault.”

You tried to calm her, apparently not suspecting her betrayal in the slightest.

“Y/N, let’s go to your dormitory to get your belongings.”

Professor McGonagall asked you and you pulled away. With a light smile tugging on your lips, you reached out and gently wiped away the tears that were streaming down Jihyo’s cheeks.

“Don’t be sad, your job is actually going to be a lot easier from now on. Although I really would have loved to celebrate our victory in the championship together at the end of the year.”

You chuckled sadly to cheer her up before trying to turn around to leave but Jihyo held on to you and crashed you into her body again. She couldn’t bear to see you cheering her up any longer. Not after what she had done.

“It was me. I wrote the letter.”

She whispered into your ear while new tears streamed down her cheeks.

In disbelief, you separated your bodies and stared at her with betrayal written all over your face, causing her to avert her gaze. Her guilt was squeezing all air out of her lungs and she waited impatiently for you to expose her. This charade was unbearable.

“And here I was thinking that you were starting to like me back... What a foolish thought.”

You chuckled, causing Jihyo’s head to snap up. Slowly, you started to back away from her while grabbing your forehead in disbelief and Jihyo shakily reached out for you.

“Y/N...”

The words in Jihyo’s mind were all jumbled and the only thing she could utter was your name. Why weren’t you yelling at her? Why weren’t you standing up for your innocence? Your calmness and the disappointed look in your face was slowly killing her. She needed you to punish her for her betrayal, but you didn’t show the slightest inclination to do so.

“No, it’s ok. Don’t worry about it.”

You mumbled, still seeming to be dazed due to her confession.

“Y/N, what are you doing? You should expose me...”

Jihyo shook your shoulder lightly, but you only smiled at her.

“Yeah you’re probably right. But I won’t. I could never hurt you like that.”

You shrugged while trying to remove her hand from her shoulder but Jihyo only tightened her grasp.

“What are you talking about, Y/N?”

She furrowed her brow in confusion although the blurry picture in her head was slowly starting to get clearer, revealing a truth that she would have preferred to keep ignoring.

“I genuinely hope that you’re happy now, Jihyo. That’s all I ever wanted. You should look out for Sejoo and his gang though. They don’t like to see a muggle-born in such a powerful position and I don’t know what they will do now that I’m not going to be there anymore.”

With that, you removed her hand from your shoulder and walked up to Professor McGonagall who looked at you apologetically before giving you a sign to leave the room. One last time, you turned around and nothing hurt Jihyo more than to see that the sadness in your eyes still couldn’t manage to erase the affection that reflected in them. She had been so blind all this time...

Who would have thought that she had been the selfish one all along?

[my-socialdiary]

Behind His Mask

Words Count: 1973

Pairing: Childe x Lumine

Warning: it contains intense fighting scenes, blood

Here we go again, an angsty fanfiction about Childe and Lumine. For these past days I’ve been CONSUMED by this pairing and all I can think is that writing angsty story for them just becauseeeeee. And again, english is not my first language so bear with me >_< enjoy! 

***

He pushed them, they went away. It’s fair. It’s how things should be done. 

He also pushed her. He pushed her so badly, he even did wicked; he lied, he betrayed her, he even broke her faith in him. He showed her his bad side. 

Yet, 

She stayed. She smiled. She put up with everything he did. 

She’s too good to be true. She’s too perfect for someone like him.

She’s…

Unreal.

Lumine knows sooner or later, she needs to confront her biggest enemy in this quest given by Zhongli. Her enemy, he is someone who is now carving the biggest scar in her life, pushing her away because of the perspective that has been given to him, made him believe that he’s wicked. 

Yes, dozens of times, she wanted to run away from him but she just couldn't do that. Somehow, deep down in her heart, she wants to believe… in him. 

And today, she’s trying to not let her faith be shaken while she’s seeing Childe一now finally一standing in front of her, showing her that he’s her enemy she needs to beat in order to complete the quest. 

“Well… what do we have here?” His voice sounds different. It’s not the voice of Childe she knows. “Finally, the time has come. I don’t need to explain anything, don’t I? Let’s just start the battle, then.” As he was saying that, he forms a water blade each in his hands. The sound of water along with the groans of the whale. 

“No. I want an explanation.”

“No. You don’t need one,” he said. “You’ve already seen the facts but you just want to believe in your own thoughts and opinions.” Childe walks forward, he lifts up his right hand and makes a slashing move towards Lumine. 

All she needs is just one second. She dodge her way and try to balance herself while aiming her right hand forward, palm facing directly to Childe, ready to cast palm vortex. She’s shocked by Childe’s sudden movement, but she tries to calm herself. She’s now looking at him, and trying to convince herself that this is still the man she knows. But all she sees is that the warm smile is now replaced by a cold, distant smile. “You have no idea who I am, do you?” His eyes were cold and lifeless. There’s anger, rage and… guilt. “Why are you holding back?” He asks with his husky voice. He raised up his eyebrow and gave her a smirk. 

“I demand an explanation, Childe,” meanwhile, she takes her sword from her back. “Now.”

“I told you since we first met,” He is now moving again and striking her with his blade, twice. Which makes her now tossed to the side, dealing high damage to her body. Pain creeped up through her palm, making her unable to cast anything except fight him with her sword. “I am a bad guy. But you don’t believe.” Before Childe can do anything, she gathered up her stamina and stood up then ran to the center of the Golden House. 

“The truth is, I was just going to aggressively ignore that part until it goes away,” she said. Suddenly, a burst of wind fills up this space. Soon enough Childe sees a hurricane come right towards him, but he doesn’t have enough time to escape from it. The pain it caused is not high enough to stop him so as soon as he freed himself from the grasp of the hurricane, he took out his bow and shot her with six consecutive water arrows. Her body is now marked with Riptide Blast which deals more damage to her body. 

“That’s definitely not going to work!” He shouted. He now changes himself into his delusion, which is an electro and casts his homing attack. A purple-ish ring of electricity appears around her body. Before it can deal anymore damage, she runs and attacks him with her sword, once, twice, thrice. Cancelling his moves. 

Childe seems tough but now she’s sure that she’s dealing enough damage to him. And that makes her heart ache. But she is still attacking him, half of it represents her anger towards Childe. I hate you. You hurt me. I want to kill you so badly. The tears burst forth like water from a dam, spilling down her face. She feels the muscles of her arms tremble like a small child caught stealing those delicious fried radish balls. Her walls, the walls that hold her up all this time just… collapsed. Ruined. Destroyed. 

Her sword is making clanging sound when it met with Childe’s water blade as he tries to defend himself. With her endless attack, she is now slowly pushing Childe to the wall. I can't stop... I can't stop. Why can I not stop crying? She thinks to herself. Her vision is blurry, but she still can see expressions Childe makes. Eventually, she now pinned him to the wall. Panting, she stopped attacking and now looked at him. Her right hand holding a sword pointed to his throat, ready to slit it while her left arm held him in his chest. “All this time… you made me feel so many… emotions,” she muttered between her breath. “I was sad, confused and angry… but I couldn’t understand why,” She pressed her sword gradually into his throat. “But why does it have to be you? Why, Childe, why?” She just broke down. The sobs bursted out, ripping through her throat, muscles, and guts. 

She didn’t care anymore. All she wants is just to stop this nonsense, go back in time and choose not to follow him after he saved her from the Millelith guard. She would rather not meet him. Or she would rather not come to Liyue at all. 

Next, all she knew was she dropped her sword with a trace of Childe’s blood and pressing her forehead into his chest while grabbing his armor with both hands. She cried. And cried. And cried. She can’t hold it anymore, she chooses not to. The pain came out like madness in the form of a scream. She thought if she acted like it didn’t matter, then it wouldn’t. But turns out the more she pretends, the greater pain she gets. 

“I don’t want to put up with everything you did anymore,” She whispered. 

***

Memories are the worst form of torture. 

And Childe couldn’t agree more with that. You can heal the pain from physical torture with herbs and medicine fom Bubu Pharmacy but you can’t just cut you head off to get rid of things you don’t want to remember. Even though you really want to do that. Even though that ‘thing’ is the most beautiful thing he ever experienced. The thing that he will never, ever dare to dream in his life. And that’s exactly what he feels now. 

The muffled sobs wracked against his chest. The world turned into a blur, and so did all the anger he tried to keep. Except for those damn memories. Instead of forgetting it, it keeps playing in his head, rewind itself, filling his mind with a picture of her smiles, her cheerful expression, her flowing hair, her beautiful golden eyes and conclude with the sound of her footsteps, keep coming back to him even though he pushed her away. 

Childe, I’m back! Are you feeling better now?

Childe, I hope you don’t mind if I come back here. 

Childe, let’s go! You won’t think I’ll leave you here alone, will you?

Childe, I was being too pushy yesterday, wasn’t I? Sorry, I’ll try my best not to do it again if you don’t like it. 

Childe…!

Childe!

...Childe!

He tries to shrug that off. He doesn’t want to remember anything at all. 

Childe looks down where he sees her bleeding head, probably from one of his attacks. That girl is still burying her face in his chest, clutching his clothes, begging him to stop all of this, while he tried so hard to not lift up both his arms and bring her to his embrace. The sound of her footsteps played again. Stop coming back. Just… stop. I didn’t deserve you. His head now swarms with new formed-regrets. 

“I regret a lot of things,” he finally opens his mouth. The heaviness was in his limbs as much as his throat. He sounded tired. “Having this kind of conversation tops the list.” He pushed Lumine from himself just to see her face, now red and wet because of tears. He tried to look away but his eyes were stubborn. “Now let’s finish this game and一”

“Is this a game to you?” 

“It’s nothing more than a game with reward,” He forms the electric polearm. Ready to fight her. He’s bleeding, but he doesn’t care. “You should’ve slit my throat. Now I won’t give you another chance.” As he said that, the mask that he keeps on his hair flies over to cover his face entirely. His mind is now consumed and so all of his action. The anger form in a mask is now a safe haven to protect him from the regrets. With this anger, now he can freely do anything he wants. With this anger, his fear of hurting someone he cherishes is now gone.  

“I give you the chance to kill me, but you don’t,” With the mask on, his voice has now changed drastically. “This is what cost you for thinking that I can be tricked by your actions!” That gravelly voice is now filling up the entire Golden House, making it tremble a little. Without hesitation, he comes towards the weaponless Lumine and attacks her with his electric polearm. He didn't mind electrifying, slashing and stabbing her with his weapon. Lumine tried nothing to defend herself, she’s now beaten, smacked, thumped and all of her body is screaming with ache but she keeps doing nothing. Because she knows; nothing is matter for him right now. He had been titled Eleventh of The Fatui Harbingers for a reason. 

Behind his mask, it pained him to let out all of his attacks to her yet soon enough… a little bit more energy in a form of purple flash and waves combined into one deadly attack should be enough to kill her, giving him a sense of satisfaction amongst agony to end all of this. 

Childe is now casting his final spell when suddenly a burst of wind blows away his mask, exposing his rough face. At that time, his eyes locked to Lumine who is now strengthless, her eyes are half closed, and she’s bleeding everywhere. It was Lumine who blew the wind for the last time and made him realize what he did to her.

“Do… it…” She said under her breath. 

“No…” The anger is now gone, his emotions are back, his eyes now filled with fear, anxiety and guilt. He threw his polearm and kneel beside the girl who did nothing but good things to him. “What did I do… No…Lumine, no…” He has seen so many deaths, he never truly cried. But now, he’s unable to speak, unable to breath. The world around him becomes darker. The weight in his chest locks in his throats. A token of sorrow and misery. He bawls and screams, and that is more than crying. It sounded like a desolate weeping that comes from a person drowned in the sea of regrets. His tears mingled with the rain outside Golden House which suddenly showered the entire Liyue and his gasping wails echoed around that place. 

“Childe一” She whispered, and coughed a little bit. 

“All this time,” he cuts her sentence. His voice is now trembling with agony. “Why are you doing that?”

“Doing… what?”

“Treating me…” He sobs, again. “Like a person.”

She smiles. “Because you are.”