#eighteen down thirteen more to go

[kneelbeforeclefairy]

What I think is most different and most striking about Sunrise on the Reaping is how CYNICAL it is. To some extent we knew it was going to be. This is a midquel. That the reapings go on and the Hunger Games only ends 25 years later is a forgeon conclusion. We know nothing that happens here is going to work.

The book is about implicit submission, and why, with numbers on their side, the many submit to the few, even when the few are unjust. And it's because, the book seems to say, numbers aren't ENOUGH. the Newcomers alliance is much bigger than the Careers. They should be able to team up and defeat them easily. But they don't. Eighteen of them are killed outright, because the Careers have the strength, the skill and the training. And that's just that.

Plutarch asks why the tributes don't overwhelm the Peacekeepers during training, and Haymitch is rightfully outraged at the privilege of this question. Why don't they? Because they probably couldn't kill them all, and even if they could, what good would it do? It wouldn't stop the Hunger Games. It wouldn't change a thing. No one would even know about it outside that room, because the Capitol would change the narrative. Just like Katniss and the Star Squad can't REALLY take on the Capitol single handed and assassinate the president, the scrappy alliance of kids can't really do any real damage to the system the Capitol has in place. All they can do is choose if they want to die now or later. So why don't they, if there's no difference to them, as Plutarch asks. Because, as Snow puts it. Hope. The slight chance that one of them will come out of it. And, more cynically, the hope that if they are good tributes and obey, their families will be left alone. If they choose to rebel and choose to die now they guarantee retaliation against their families and perhaps their entire district. We see that even in the tributes that attack the Gamemakers in the arena. They rise up, they break that bond of implicit submission--and they die bloody for it.

Why don't they rebel? Because they don't have the privilege to lose.

Even Lenore Dove, the Joan of Arc of Twelve, fails to do any real damage or have any real effect. All she does is get herself a reputation for being a trouble maker, and eventually get herself killed. Was she killed as part of the retaliation against Haymitch, or was her punishment because she's a rebel, and that's what happens to rebels? (and Snow hates covey girls.) but she fails because she IS alone. She focuses on small, symbolic acts that do nothing, but that she hopes will rally the people to action.Unfortunately, the people of Twelve don't want their lives to get any worse, and they don't have the privilege of spending time and energy on revolution the way a teenager girl whose family doesn't need her income to survive does--sadly, Twelve will remain this way, in an uncanny valley where they're beaten down enough to need change, but not enough to have NOTHING to lose. They are not one of the districts that rise up. So acting alone does nothing, teaming up does nothing. How does one fight an enemy with better technology, better weapons, and better organization? Beetee's plan doesn't work out. Of course it doesn't. Could it ever? Was it just borne out of grief for his son? And even if it had, then what? What was the plan? Haymitch's poster gets edited away. The Newcomers fail. Lenore Dove dies. The most you can say is Haymitch himself becomes too important to kill, like Beetee, and Snow let him live to fight another day, but so destroyed that he no longer WANTS to.

So, then, what WORKS?

The answer is, quite cynically, Plutarch's version of the world. Numbers mean something, there are more of US than there are of THEM , but that isn't enough. You need weapons, you can't bring a knife to a gun fight, you need EVERYONE on your side. You need organization, not just a series of disconnected rebellions, and you need an Army, provided by Thirteen, as problematic as they are. The timing just needs to be right. And most crucially, what I think Plutarch and everyone involved here learned is that victory belongs to those who control the narrative. Those who control the flow of information and tell their story. And it's not Plutarch, for all his cameras and his propos and his idea behind The Mockingjay, who eventually does that well.

It's Haymitch.

Who learned to tell a story and sell a narrative with himself and the Newcomers. Who tried to paint his poster in the arena only to see it rewritten in front of him. Who won't make that mistake again. When it's time for the deciding factor in the revolution, it's Haymitch who creates the Mockingjay-- and is he also using Katniss and her image? Yes. but he at least sees Katniss and the human she is inside it, unlike Plutarch who hasn't changed much from the man who makes a grieving family do reshoots over and over so he can get his footage, while congratulating himself for letting Haymitch have his goodbye.

When Katniss sets off the spark twenty five years later, the world is ready. The work is in place. Plutarch, Haymitch, Beetee, everyone can say GO , and this time it'll work. So buckle in, and wait for the Long Game, even though only Plutarch really has the privilege to wait, the rest of them don't have a choice. It's cynical. It's awful. People die. The lone rebels and the plucky girls and the alliance depending on its numbers all fail. Plutarch motherfucking Heavensbee, the richest of the rich the privilegedest of the privileged, pulls off the revolution, takes the credit, and lives to see the end of it, without ever once examining his own privilege, and unpacking the fact that despite his head being on the right side of history, he's never managed to see the Districts as PEOPLE . (and you could argue, ANYONE as people. ) But it's just the only way.

But this book isn't the middle of the series. It's the end. How awful would it be to read if we didn't know that Katniss and the Mockingjay rebellion would eventually succeed. We know that despite the cynism of a failed revolution and all its players, that one day it WILL work out. This book is called sunrise on the Reaping....the sun rises on a world where this is inevitable. But one day it won't be.

[searchingforserendipity25]

conclave is a very good film made up of cardinal thomas lawrence having three horrible horrible days.

however the one thing it lacks is the consideration of how much worse they could have been if it lasted longer.

day four of conclave and the draw between tedesco and lawrence does not budge.

five days of conclave and at least one of the cardinals whose name got covered up in the trembley report backs lawrence against the wall and tries to threaten him with a kitchen knife before falling to weeping on his shoulder. day six of conclave and cardinal adeyemi and cardinal trembley nearly come to blows in the loggia. day seven of conclave and people start sneaking wine bottles into the sistine chapel.

day eight and they're passing them around covertly during the interminable voting process. day nine and three separate white collar crimes come to light because the guilty parties are sweating in their cassocks thinking lawrence has the dirt on them and they can't take the pressure anymore, they just can't.

day ten and vincent benítez is doing quiet prayer catechism hour in the garden after lunch.

day eleven and sabbadin is snorting someone's vicodin in the bathroom.

day twelve and the cardinals for warsaw and budapest are having a terrible breakup everyone is trying to pretend not to notice. day thirteen and lawrence stays in his room the whole day pretending he has a stomach ache and keeps having his nap dreams interrupted by dreams of turtles.

day fourteen and aldo bellini has brought his copy of giovanni's room to reread, half-heatedly hidden behind a bible cover.

day fifteen and vincent benítez has lead by example a number of cardinals into helping out in the kitchen at least once a week to frankly terrible culinary results and growing camaraderie.

sixteen days of conclave and lawrence has to sit down ray o'malley and actively beg him not to tell him anything else, please, no more info, no more digging into old scandals, no nothing.tedesco's tax audits may be suspiciously clean but lawrence is a man of god not a forensic attorney and he will not dig deeper.

day seventeen and lawence tracks o'malley down and asks him to look into tedesco's brother's recent real estate acquisitions.

day eighteen and the new whisper campaign to discredit lawrence keeps trying to bring up his most controversial progressive views but he keeps answering impatiently back with well-thought of biblical references as he did in the homily and accidentally causes a reprise of his canon law school lecture debates. which temporarily brings everyone together and opens the stage for a fierce ideological debate.

wherein lawrence gets accused, not entirely inaccurately, by trembley and adeyemi, united once more in offense, of being the last figurehead for the complacent liberal establishment/a judgemental prig and/or treating the college of cardinals like a group of jumped-up seminarians.

aldo bellini implies very loudly that tedesco is ugly, a fascist and too stupid to ever be invited to lecture at the sourbonne even once, and cardinal vincent benítez speaks up with great dignity and strength against american imperialism.

day nineteen and someone actively tries to murder the patriarch of venice. day twenty and it is revealed via sister agnes ex machina and cardinal benítez's disconcerting familiarity with very real and more successful murder attempts that tedesco was trying to frame bellini for it.

the proof is circumstantial and so are any accusations lawrence or anyone could make against him of corruption, but this does prompt him to go on a long speech about how the leftist agenda has thoroughly ruined not only the church but society at least and made any possible unity among men a sham.

day twenty-one and someone actually dies, unrelated to the tedesco fake-plot.

day twenty-two and they elect vincent benítez. lawrence hides in the room of tears having an anxiety attack of relief.

vincent benítez holds his hand tenderly through it and immediately accepts his resignation as dean but not before telling him his secret and having his hands held back tightly, and being told very earnestly that, short of actual unreasonable harm to other people and an extraordinary amount of bribery, he could be made by god's will in any possible variation and still have lawrence's trust. and most importantly, lawrence's papacy.

day one of innocentius xiv's papacy and lawrence finds him in the gardens feeding the turtles instead of taking the next train to a nice monastery in liège and offers himself as secretary of state. and this is why netflix should hire me.

[starkeymeow]

PLOT you enter the hunger games a proud weapon of your district, only to find your sharpest blade is the boy beside you, and you’re not sure which one of you the capitol wants to break first.

CONTENT rafe cameron x reader au, blood, violence, murder, manipulation, grief, hallucinations, intense survival situations, just the hunger games sobs

main masterlist | tag list | post-games idea | edit

prologue — “rafe cameron and y/n y/l/n, this year’s tributes for district two!”

reaping ceremony; district two is coming. and it’s already soaked in red.

chapter one — “i don’t plan to die.”

the train ride to the capitol; the parade; rafe and reader step into the arena of public eyes, and they already know it’s all a game.

chapter two — “if anyone was gonna die, might as well be me. someone who at least knows what they’re walking into.”

the night after the parade; reader and rafe find each other on the balcony.

chapter three — “rise and shine, sweetheart.”

the first day of training; reader and rafe show each other what they’ve got. sneak peak to district fours tributes.

chapter four — “y/n y/l/n, with a score of . . .”

the rest of training week; the private sessions loom, and every tribute sharpens themselves into weapons, including y/n.

chapter five — “i don’t think he ever really saw me. just some idea of who he wanted me to be.”

caesar’s interview, the world watching; on the final night before the arena, rafe and reader tear down their last walls and find something almost human in each other.

chapter six — “win.”

the bloodbath; steel, blood, and desperate survival, reader and rafe fight their way out, but not everyone makes it.

chapter seven — “they could’ve fucking killed her.”

the birch forest is not all what it seems. an ambush shakes the group; kie’s injured.

chapter eight — “you think it’s a trap?” “everything’s a trap.”

the group finds some new solid ground to camp on; y/n finds the roses. y/n and topper come across their first mutt of the arena.

chapter nine — “just you ‘n me for right now, huh?”

rafe and reader are alone; reader finds out about the rose thorns toxins. they share a moment before their first sponsor gift comes.

chapter ten — “you’ve got that hero edit shit going for you.”

rafe and reader reunite with kie and jj again, but it doesn’t last long.

chapter eleven — “i’m not dying for their cameras.”

the gamemakers open up a feast at dawn; devastated with the loss of kie, jj makes a sacrifice.

chapter twelve — “do you trust me?”

the final fights; glory, victory. rafe and reader make a decision that puts them down in history.

part thirteen — “make it worth it.”

reader wakes up from weeks of being in a coma; enobaria gives y/n a talk. y/n sees rafe for the first time in weeks and someone she never expected to see so soon.

part fourteen — “i don’t wanna be alone tonight.”

collection of imagines: rafe and reader move into victors village. y/n’s mom visits. snow proposes that rafe and y/n move into the same house together. reader has a nightmare.

part fifteen — “she’s good. the kind of good that makes you want to be better. even when you’re sure you can’t be.”

caesar’s interview with panem’s new victors; rafe and reader get closer.

part sixteen — “you’re owned, my dear.”

the victory tour commences; rafe and reader join together in the capitol for a victory ball to wrap up the tour. y/n finds something shocking about her victory.

part seventeen — “snow’s gonna kill me.”

collection: aftermath of reader refusing being sold. reader finds out rafe has to take her place, but while out one night, rafe comes back home to reveal he finally broke.

part eighteen — “we’re in the same boat now. might as well get used to each other.”

rafe and reader meet 18-year-old finnick odair the following year. headcanons and ideas of their dynamics and how post-quell plays out.

part nineteen — “i wanna be more than that.”

rafe confesses his love to reader who’s avoidant; reader lets rafe touch their back for the first time since the implants.

part twenty — “may we meet again.”

the 74th hunger games commences. rafe and reader must mentor cato and clove; y/n is devastated to find the victors are falling into the same footsteps as her and rafe.

chapter twenty-one — “even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the capitol.”

catchup of post-74th; president snow announces the quarter quell three months before the reaping.

chapter twenty-two — “i volunteer as tribute.”

enobaria has to decide whether to stand for or stand down when it comes to who will be reaped into the games; rafe volunteers.

chapter twenty-three — “you’re different than i thought you’d be.”

haymitch finds you and rafe on the train ride to the capitol about the rebel plan; you meet katniss before the tribute parade that night.

chapter twenty-four — “anyone can swing an axe, but not everyone knows how to make one from twigs and wire.”

day one of training; you spar with johanna. everyone gets to see katniss work her magic up-close.

chapter twenty-five — “if it means she gets out of this alive, i’ll let her charm every last person in this damn place.”

days two and three of training; you find a new ally in peeta mellark.

chapter twenty-six — “she’s the only thing left i believe in anymore.”

rafe and reader help to try to take down the quarter quell at caesar flickerman’s interviews; they spend time together for the rest of the night.

chapter twenty-seven — “i promise you that the next time you see me, the world is gonna be different.”

the quarter quell has begun.

coming soon.

[yamumsyadadd]

the end of the road

The start of a new series :) alexia Putellas x Leah Williamson!ex wife. Other writings about it here: 4 times

When you were thirteen you thought you met the love of your life, but now at twenty-six you realised you were wrong. 

Leah had always been the pretty, popular girl. When you immigrated to Melton Kaynes in 2013 with your papa, you were intimidated by her. Her natural blonde hair and blue eyes made everyone fawn over her. Everyone but you. Though that would quickly change. 

After an assignment threw the two of you together, she wanted to be around you. You didn’t think you were anything special, your ordinary brown hair, brown eyes and Spanish skin but to Leah, you were the most beautiful person she’d ever seen. 

There was something about your demeanour that drew her in. Maybe it was the fact that you didn’t care what people thought about you, or the way you helped others in class when they didn’t understand. She wasn’t sure, but she was ready to risk everything for you. 

Leah would follow you around like a puppy begging for a crumb of food. She wanted your attention, for you to see her. Truthfully you did see her but you weren’t confident in your own sexuality, so why would you be confident in hers? 

Slowly, your walls around her came down. You had a lot more in common than you realised. Her parents were divorced and so were yours. The only difference was who you lived with. Your mami had stayed behind in Spain, continuing on with the group homes and foster care foundation she had started. Your papa opted to move back to England and extend the foundation to more European countries. 

It was a random Tuesday when you first kissed Leah. She was rambling on about some football thing she disagreed with and you couldn’t help it. After the initial confusion Leah kissed back. It didn’t even get to the end of the day before she asked you to be her girlfriend, you were slightly hesitant, but said yes nonetheless. 

You tried to hide the relationship from both your parents. Your mami was the one that caught it first, secretly telling your papa not to freak out if and when you decided to share the news. It took a few months before you felt confident and comfortable enough to share it with them. 

Since their divorce, they remained friends. Real friends, there was no huge fight or cheating that caused it, they simply just grew apart and no longer loved each other in that way. As all three of you sat around the dinner table in Barcelona, you started to cry. The overwhelming feeling that your parents would be disappointed, angry or even resentful.

“Querida, what’s wrong?” Your mami was alarmed, one minute you were all laughing then you burst into tears. 

“I’m in love with Leah. She’s my girlfriend, I’m a lesbian.” It came out in a mumbled mess. “Please don’t be mad.” You quickly added once you realised neither of your parents were talking. 

“Pumpkin, we know.” Your papa smiled at you. 

“You do?” 

“Of course. Why do you think you have to keep your bedroom door open when she’s over? Or that she has to sleep in the guest room for sleepovers?” Oh. You never thought about that. 

“Why would we be mad?” 

“I don’t know. I guess because I won’t give you grandkids?” 

“You can have a baby another way. I’m sure if and when the time comes, you will give us the most perfect grandchildren.” Your mami wiped your tears. She was wrong though. 

As the years progressed, so did your relationship with Leah. Throughout the final two years of highschool you were an anchor to each other. When your mami was diagnosed with breast cancer, she was there. 

When your mami died eighteen months later, she was there. Holding you on the hospital floor as you sobbed so hard you made yourself sick. The entire time Leah was by your side, refusing to leave, letting you cry into her until you passed out. 

At twenty, Leah proposed in the country side of England. Without hesitation you tackled her to the ground repeatedly saying yes. You were going to marry the woman of your dreams. 

It felt like a dream, telling your friends and family, throwing an engagement party, having everyone congratulate you. Never in a million years did you expect for this to happen. 

Thanks to the inheritance you received from your mami, you were able to buy a house big enough for you and Leah, maybe a few kids down the line. It wasn’t the biggest or fanciest house, but it was yours. It felt and smelt like home. 

After being engaged for two years, you had set a date. The wedding was everything you and Leah had dreamed of. Her teammates from throughout the years, high school friends and your family from Spain were all in attendance. There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in either of your minds. 

After the reception, you and Leah were able to sneak away for a few quiet moments. 

“You look so beautiful.” She said as she wrapped her arms around your waist. 

“So do you. I love you.” Your hand ran along her jaw as you took in the way she looked. Wanting to savour this moment forever. 

“I want to have a baby.” You were slightly taken aback with her serious tone but agreed straight away. 

Almost as soon as the honeymoon was over, the fertility treatments started. It didn’t take long, your second try, and you were pregnant. The pregnancy was a dream, you had limited morning sickness and no stretch marks. You and Leah were in heaven. But then the world shut down.

The COVID-19 restrictions awoke something inside of you. The feeling of missing your home country, the people who helped run the foundation and your mamis best friend, Marisol. You longed to go back to Spain, but with Leah’s football career kicking off you knew it wasn’t a possibility. 

The birth of your first child, a boy called Oscar, was something so magical and beautiful. You laboured at home with Leah for as long as you could, she was there doing whatever she could. Getting ice, massaging your lower back, swaying with you. You name it, Leah did it. 

After 49 hours, Oscar came into the world screaming incredibly loudly. As soon as he was put on your chest, both you and Leah burst into tears. 

Oscar was a dream baby. For a while it was just the three of you. While it was completely exhausting, it was worth it. You and Leah had created the most perfect little boy. You were happy with the life you created but you still longed to return home. 

It was harder to run the foundation from England then you anticipated. Marisol was taking care of the Spanish part of it, your dad looking after Germany and Switzerland. The UK was on you. Everything would go perfectly and then, in a blink of an eye, things would fall apart. 

Cracks started to appear in your marriage too. Leah was in the prime of her life, travelling all over for football, but you were stuck. Oscar was in nursery throughout the day when you worked but you couldn’t help but feel empty. 

Leah was coming home later, sometimes close to midnight. The sex had dwindled to maybe once a fortnight if you were lucky. You were the one that did everything. The laundry, house cleaning, paid all the bills, took Oscar to swimming and little kickers, read his bed night stories. It was as if you were a single parent. 

Then you noticed the signs. The change of the her phone password, no more flaunting you on social media, inviting you to team events. She made it seem like she was single. 

Oscar was only fourteen months old. You could see the future you hoped for disappear in a flash. Amanda, Leah’s mum, had taken Oscar for the night. It was supposed to be your date night. 

But as you sat there in the couch, heels thrown off near the door, dress started to feel constrictive, you realised that Leah wasn’t coming home. 

It was well past midnight when Leah came in. smelling like alcohol and someone else’s perfume. 

“Where have you been?” You asked, anger evident in your voice. 

“Out with mum.” She couldn’t even lie properly. 

“That’s a lie.” You said as you stood up, “your mum has Oscar. He’s been there since 3pm.” You watched her reaction. You walked closer to her, wanting her to know how serious you were, “I don’t care who she is. If you keep seeing her, we are done. Oscar and I will go back to Spain.” 

“Babe-“

“No.” You put your hand up to stop her, “it’s us or her. You decide.” 

She chose your family. You never asked who the girl was, you suspected, but it was never confirmed. You made her go to therapy, then for you both to go to marriage counselling. You worked hard to regain trust and Leah proved to you again why you loved her. 

It took six months but then stupidly you agreed to a second baby. For the first two trimesters Leah was there. Helping more with Oscar, doing house work, taking you out on dates and being the loving wife you knew she was. 

As you were nearing your final month of pregnancy, things were getting harder. Leah was barely around, the love you once shared seemed to be a distance memory. Most nights you cried yourself to sleep, hand in your belly as you did so. 

You needed help, Leah would have excuse after excuse so you hired a nanny. Isobel was from Spain too, spending the year studying in London. She was perfect, you were able to speak your mother language to her, Oscar picked it up quickly too. 

It was a relief. To have the help with Oscar and household chores. You got to focus on the last few days of work before you went on maternity leave. The due date of your daughter was approaching fast, as was Christmas. 

The Christmas market was a favourite of yours. The light snow dusted the ground, the smell of cinnamon and hot chocolate filled the air. Oscar looked so cute in his winter suit with his gloves and hat, and there was Leah. Looking as beautiful as you remembered. 

You felt giddy like a children when she told you she’d be joining the two of you tonight. This would probably be your last outing as a family of three. By the time you were at home in bed, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. You were incredibly happy that your family was slowly coming back together. 

It didn’t last long though. On December 21st, you sat at home on the couch. Oscar was already in bed asleep and the time was nearing 8.30pm. All day you had been having slight contractions, but the sharp pain that ripped across your stomach was nothing you’d ever felt before. 

Something was very wrong. 

You tried ringing Leah. Over and over again. But each time she declined the call. You texted and she left you on read. The final text message you sent that she did reply to broke your heart. 

You: somethings wrong Leah. I’m bleeding and the pain is horrible. 

Leah: what do you want me to do about it?”

You: I need to go to the hospital. Oscar is asleep. 

Leah: call an uber or something. Idk. 

The anger you felt was very quickly replaced with fear. Your two and a half year old son was sleeping upstairs, your wife was being a bitch and there was no other option than to call for an ambulance. 

So that’s what you did. First you rang Amanda, Leah’s mum, then you rang an ambulance. As you potted around the loungeroom, blood was dropping onto the floor. You knew it needed to be cleaned before Oscar woke up otherwise he would freak out. 

Thankfully, Amanda arrived quickly and so did the ambulance. 

“Leah’s not coming. Please stay with Oscar.” You begged her as they loaded you up. Something flashed across Amanda’s face, probably anger and disappointment in her daughter but at that moment all you could focus on was your own daughter. 

Somewhere along the way you rang your dad and Marisol begging them to come as fast as they could. They tried but ultimately you gave birth to your beautiful daughter alone, at 4.44am. 

You were exhausted and didn’t even bother looking at your phone, missing the millions of instagram notifications until it was too late. 

Marisol was the first to get to the hospital, meeting your daughter, Amelia, a mere 45 minutes after she was born. She told you how proud she was of you, how you did such a good job and you couldn’t help but cry. 

Since your mami had died, Marisol took over that role. She was your mamis best friend, your godmother, one of the best people you knew. After a few hours and minimal sleep, you decided to message Leah. Letting her know that her daughter had been born. 

Before you could though you were overwhelmed with the amount of notifications on your phone. As you clicked on one, it lead you to the comments section of an instagram post. 

A post that contained your wife and a teammate. Kissing. At the same Christmas markets you took your son to a few days prior. You couldn’t stop the sob that came out of your mouth. Both your dad and Marisol stopping what that were doing immediately.

“What’s wrong!” 

“Is something hurting?” 

“Leah-“ was all you were able to get out, shoving your phone into Marisol’s hand. Their hearts broke for you, less than 10 hours after giving birth you found out your wife was cheating on you. 

It started to make sense. The distance, the late nights and early mornings, the way she separated herself. It made you nauseous. Was she cheating when she begged for a second kid? Did she fuck someone in the house you lived in together? In your bed? 

Before you had the chance to completely spiral, Oscar ran into the room. Excited to meet his baby sister and see his mama. There was a look of anger on Jacob’s face when he walked in and saw Leah still wasn’t there. 

For an hour they kept up appearances but then you politely asked everyone but Amanda to leave. 

“Leah cheated on me. I don’t know details, and I don’t want to know details but I want all of her stuff out of my house by the time I’m home.” 

Amanda was confused so you took the liberty to show her the photos. Confusion turned into anger. She called her own family to organise the removal of Leah’s belongings, your dad took the chance to call a locksmith. 

If or when Leah decided to return to the family home she would find all of the locks changed and her belongings at her mother’s. 

You were good in a crisis. Level headed and calm, always the first point of call when something went wrong with the foundation and this was no different. The crisis was now your life and you had to fix it. 

Christmas was a good distraction, Leah had attempted to reach out, to promise it was a mistake, a one time thing. but the wound had been created and she couldn’t fix it now. 

Over new years Oscar struggled. You all did. thankfully your dad and Marisol hung around for as long as they could. 

Leah had only met Amelia twice. By the second time she didn’t seem interested at all. As if this baby was just a burden to her. Amanda visited often, as did Jacob. One night you decided to break the news to them. Oscar was already passed out in bed and Amelia was asleep in the bassinet. 

“I’m moving back to Spain. The kids will obviously be coming too. I’m selling the house.”

“What about Leah?” Amanda asked. 

“She can see the kids whenever she likes. I won’t keep them from her. However in the last week she hasn’t reached out at all.”

“That’s it? You’re giving up?” Jacob asked, raising his voice. 

“There’s nothing to give up on Jake. She cheated, she ruined this family. Not me. I gave birth alone, I have been raising our son alone.” 

“Have you told her?” 

“I tried. She left my message on read. I sent in the divorce papers, I don’t want any money from her, I don’t want to fight over this but I will if I have to.” 

Amanda let a few tears slip before she spoke up, “you deserve better.” 

“Mum!”

“No jacob she does. Leah broke this family, Leah left her wife alone to give birth, she went out to a public place and snogged a teammate. You can love your sister but this, this is her fault. Y/n, I will support you through this. You’re a wonderful mother, both those kids are incredibly lucky to have you.” You cried as she hugged you goodbye, the chapter was closing and while it is what you wanted, you felt incredibly heartbroken. 

Leah fought the divorce. It was ugly and it was messy. The prenup prevented either of you from getting each other’s money, you would keep the house. The judge agreed that sole custody would reside with you for the mean time and in a year it would be revisited. 

The alienation started almost immediately. Leah would tell Oscar it was you that broke up the family, that you were taking him away from her. Never once did you correct her, there was no way you wanted to mess up his toddler mind more than it already was. 

Spain was a breath of fresh air. You had reached out to Isobel, explaining most of what had happened and said if she was to find herself in Barcelona anytime soon, you’d happily hire her again. 

Oscar settled into his new daycare easily, at home he wasn’t so settled. You tried to be understanding, but it was so incredibly hard. Your marriage was over, your soon to be ex wife was alienating your son, the friends you shared with her slowly stopped reaching out. 

Once your maternity leave ended, you threw yourself into the foundation. Wanting to make it grow, fix everything you could. 

The idea of a compound came to you in the middle of the night. Amelia was teething and as you sat there comforting her you thought about all the teen parents doing the best they could. Fostering teenagers wasn’t something many people did, so foster a teenager who had a baby was even more limited. 

You drew up a rough plan, something to discuss with Marisol later in the day. It consisted of an apartment style complex, 6 or 7 houses, 1 and 2 bedroom apartments with one on the end for a caregiver. 

When you bought the idea up with Marisol and Miriam, the manager of the under 10s portfolio, they were on board immediately. It wouldn’t be easy to pull off but you were sure you could do it. 

While you threw yourself into work to get over the heartbreak, Leah threw herself into the beds of other women. No matter how hard to tried to avoid it, there was pictures and comments plastered on the internet. 

Oscars behaviour was getting worse. After every phone call, every quick visit, he would come back rude and mean. You knew he was struggling but you also knew that he couldn’t talk to people like that. Leah refused to help, she claimed he was the perfect child for her and this was all your fault. 

As the months pushed on, you worked tirelessly to began this project and when it started, you couldn’t help but shed some happy tears. All the extra hours you put in once the kids were asleep was finally going to pay off. 

When Leah tore her ACL you were conflicted. On one hand you were sad she wouldn’t be able to captain her team in the World Cup, but on the other hand she would be able to be move present in your children’s lives. 

Her relationship with the now five month old Amelia, was practically nonexistent. You weren’t breastfeeding, finding that it was causing you more stress than it was worth. When offered to have her over night, Leah would straight up refuse. It was getting to a point that was concerning to you. At no point did you want your daughter to grow up feeling less Love from her own mother. 

Oscar’s third birthday was fast approaching. Leah, who had done her knee, wouldn’t be attending the pre-world cup camps. Her family and yours would come together in Spain and celebrate him. As much as it hurt seeing her and her family, you had to swallow your own feelings to put Oscar first. 

He loved every second of it, all the attention, the food, the love. It had been a while since he had been that happy. As the day came to a close, Jacob and Oscar were outside on the trampoline, Marisol and Amanda were pottering around tidying up and you had just put Amelia to sleep when Leah came up behind you. 

“I miss you.” She whispered, learning up against the door frame. 

“Leah-“

“No I do. I know I fucked up but I want to fix it. I love you, only you.” She looked at you like you hung the moon, as much as you still loved Leah, you couldn’t do that to yourself. 

“I can’t Leah. You cheated on me, left me to have a baby alone. I know you’re sad and scared and whatever but I’m not the person to find comfort in. I’m sorry.” You tried to push past but she grabbed on your arm. In an instant her mouth was on yours, kissing you. 

For a moment you let yourself melt into it. Forgetting what it was like to be kissed by here but then you realised what was happening and pushed her off. “Leah no.” It’s all you could muster before you headed back outside to collect Oscar. 

After that night, something in Leah switched. She started to be more cruel, not just to you but everyone around. 

You tried to co parent with her, but ultimately you had to take her back to court and get help. From that point on, all communication went through a parenting app. The lawyers and court could read it all and see what was being said. 

The worst part of it all was watching the fallout on social media. Leah’s fans were coming for your throat. Everything was your fault, it didn’t matter that she cheated, that she ruined your family. To them, their favourite captain could so no wrong. 

things changed when you met alexia. You were scared, nervous but mostly excited.

[hysteria-things]

smut w chris and goody 2 shoes reader who always acts so smart and innocent w people then acts like a brat to chris?

he gets sick of it and roughly fucks her into her place , caring less for her pleasure and using her just so she knows how much of a slut she is!

LESSON LEARNED

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: brat tamer!chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you get taught a lesson when you act like a brat in public.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, swearing, spanking, humiliation, face fucking, dry humping, squirting, p in v, rough sex, degradation, a sprinkle of praising, overstimulation, unprotected sex (no bueno!)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,502

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: HAPPY KINKTOBER!!!

this is based off one of my blurbs from a while ago😜

your reputation to others is excellent. you’re a nice girl, who is outgoing and will always follow directions or help whoever is in need. goody two shoes is what people mostly describe you as, which isn’t that far off. however, when you’re with your significant other, your bratty side slips up.

“let me go!” you tell chris like you’re a toddler, stomping your feet while he leads you to his bedroom. “i’m being serious!”

opening the door, he lets go of your wrist to have you lead inside, yelping when his palm smacks your ass to usher you more quickly before bending you over the edge of his computer desk. pouting your lips, you hear his heavy breathing as he forcibly pulls up your skirt. you know what’s coming. your punishment.

your eyes start to well up, feeling the slightest bit bad that you acted like a brat in front of his friends, but you’re one of all things. “o-one.” you say between a sob when your boyfriend’s hand slaps your ass for the first time out of many to come tonight. you start spewing out apologies, wiggling in his grip that’s pinned your hands behind your back. “i’m sorry, okay?” you admit, his hand spanking you once more. “i didn’t mean to!”

“if you didn’t mean to you wouldn’t have done it in the first place.” chris snarls back, followed by another smack. “keep counting,” he says through gritted teeth.

SPANK.

your cries echo throughout the room as he continues to punish your reddening bottom. each slap lands with accuracy, leaving its mark on your tender skin. your tears fall on your cheeks now, mixing with the stinging sensation. “seven... eight... nine!" you wail, your voice hoarse from yelling. your body shakes with each impact, trying to squirm away another time. again, no use.

his palm connects again, the force jolting you. the pain courses to your core, pussy throbbing in response with a mix of mercy and arousal. “ten! i swear i won’t do it again!” you plea, desperate for at least some sympathy. alas, chris remains careless, his anger still fresh.

he acts like he didn’t even hear your lame apology, his focus only on disciplining you for your actions. raising his hand high, he prepares himself for another smack against your now-colored rear. “eleven.” he says under his breath, starting to count for you. the sound of skin meeting skin chimes, along with your pained whimper. he pauses for a moment, letting you take a breath to let your punishment sink in — and there’s no way out of it. then, without warning, his hand comes down again, striking your already sore ass with a vicious hit.

“twelve.” chris states clearly, his tone lacking mercy. he continues this harsh pattern, each spank followed by a number. “thirteen... fourteen... fifteen...” the more he counts, the more you sob.

“sixteen… seventeen!” you take back your job, shouting after each brutal strike. your body trembles, feeling like every nerve is in pain. the heat from your bruised cheeks radiate down to your thighs and the folds of your pussy. despite being punished, you feel thrilling and excited all in one. “eighteen... nineteen... twenty!” you choke out, your voice barely audible over your heavy breathing. the tears keep streaming, skin shining from sweat.

by the time his hand falls for the twentieth time, your bottom is a crimson mess. the sting lingers, knowing it’ll be that way for days. yet, you’ve never been so turned on.

chris finally stops after the last spank, admiring his work. your ass is a beautiful shade of red, the perfect blend of pain and pleasure. he can see the arousal glistening between your thighs, a clear visual of what this has been doing for you.

with a firm grip, he grabs your hair and pulls your head back, forcing you to look at him. his eyes stare into yours, filled with a mixture of anger and desire. “what a fucking brat.” he sneers, his other hand roughly groping your numbing ass cheek. he releases your hair, pushing himself off of you with so much force you fall to the ground, landing with a thud. from the impact, your butt stings even more.

curling into a ball, you wrap your arms in front of your legs and cry softly. “i-i’m sorry, chris.” you whine, voice shaking. the humiliation of being bent over and spanked like a naughty child, combined with the intense physical sensations, leaves you feeling vulnerable and exposed.

despite the pain, you can't ignore the ache between your legs. your cunt throbs with a need that it’s confusing. you’ve never felt this way before, and it scares you.

chris watches you on the floor, a smirk playing on his lips. he knows exactly what's going through your mind. “get up.” he snaps, standing tall and towering over you. “and get on the bed; on your knees. now.” he waits, expecting a protest, but he doesn’t receive one. that means it’s working.

once you're in position, he comes over, his cock already half hard. “if you're going to act like a brat, you'll learn how to get treated like one, too.” chris explains, running a hand through your hair. he unbuckles his jeans so they fall freely onto the floor, dick springing out right in front of you while gripping your hair and pushing his tip against your lips. “open up.”

trembling, you part your lips, allowing chris to guide his thick cock past them. the taste of pre-cum fills your mouth as he thrusts deeper, hitting the back of your throat. “mmph.” you gag slightly around his length, eyes glossy. you don’t pull away, of course. instead, you relax your jaw to accommodate him.

he sets a steady pace, fucking your face with elongated strokes. each snap of the hips sends vibrations through your head, making your nose pressed against his pelvis. your hands grasp at the sheets below, wanting to hold onto something since he’s in full domination. you’re uncomfortable, but your pussy continues to clench with need, juices dripping down your thighs. without thinking, you start humping the blanket to try and get friction on your clit like a bitch in heat.

groaning in satisfaction as he uses your mouth for his pleasure, he can feel your throat tighten around him, fighting to breathe around his girth. “that’s it, take it all.” he grunts, holding your head in place as he ruts in and out of your stretched lips. “this is what brats like you deserve.”

taking his free hand, he reaches down to cup your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. the sight of you, tear-streaked and submissive, only makes him want more. noticing your desperate humping, he chuckles deeply. “look at you, getting off like a pretty little thing. you do enjoy this, don't you?”

you moan muffled around chris’ cock as he continues to use your mouth, driving you wild. “mmph! mmph!” you manage to respond, nodding frantically at his question. your hips buck harder against the bed, chasing the friction your clit needs. your pussy clenches tightly, a clear substance gushing out to soak the bedding beneath you.

seeing you drench the sheets, he grins, knowing he's pushed you to ultimate submission. he speeds up his thrusts, fucking your face with more power. “yeah.” he grunts, watching you fall apart beneath him. “you filthy slut. show me how much you love taking this dick like a good little whore.”

his words are degrading, but you enjoy the hell out of it. your mind goes blank, focusing on the feeling of his cock in your mouth and the desperate need pulsing between your thighs. sensing your climax, he pulls out abruptly, leaving you gasping for air and drooling. before you can recover, he flips you over onto your back and yanks your legs apart.

panting heavily, you stare up at chris in a daze, your body still shaking from the intensity of the previous actions. the sudden loss of his dick in your mouth leaves you feeling empty. you. want. more.

the exposing of your dripping cunt has his eyes widen, as if he’s a kid in a candy shop. “jesus, chris.” you whimper, feeling ashamed by how pathetic you seem right now. “please.” you’re desperate, not even sure what you're begging for anymore. release? punishment? his harsh words? all you know is that you’re craving every bit of him.

chris takes in the sight of your exposed, fluttering hole, his horniness shooting straight to his dick. “you want it?” he murmurs, his fingers tracing the swollen slit of your pussy. “you want my cock inside you; stretching out every inch of this needy pussy?”

when you’re about to answer, he lines himself up and plows in deep, burying himself in one stroke. a guttural groan rips from his chest at the tightness gripping him. “holy shit, you were made for this.” chris exhales, each pump of his hips driving him impossibly deeper. “taking my cock like the perfect slut you are.”

a sharp cry tickles your throat as he thrusts into you, the sudden stretch sending waves of pleasure and pain through your core. your nails dig into the sheets as he fucks you, each ruthless thrust hitting that sweet spot inside you and sending stars flying behind your eyelids. “yeah! oh, fuck, yeah!” you shout, your hips bucking fast to meet his brutal rhythm. “making me feel so good!”

the filthy words spill from your lips before it’s too late, fueled by the overwhelming pleasure you’re experiencing. you’ve never felt so full. his cock is hard inside you, pounding repeatedly against your cervix with each stroke.

his eyes flash with possession as he rails into you, living for the way your cunt clenches around him, gripping him deep. his balls slap against your ass with every violent thrust, the lewd sound mixing with your wanton cries. “mhm, scream for me.” he says, angling his hips to hit your g-spot just right. “let everyone hear what a cock sleeve you are for me.”

leaning down to your chest, he takes a nipple and swirls his tongue around it. his other hand snakes between your bodies to rub circles over your clit, wanting to push you over the edge. “cum on my cock, you filthy girl.” chris demands, his voice filled with lust.

each bite to your nipple sends sparks of ecstasy through your veins while his stimulation on your clit has you close to the brink of release. “oh god, oh god! i’m-i’m gonna—” your words turn into incoherent babbling as the waves of your orgasm crash over you. your pussy clamps down viciously on his length, milking him as your body shakes and becomes limp beneath him.

the grip on your clit tightens, prolonging your pleasure as he chases his release. with a final, sharp thrust, he buries himself and cums inside you, filling your spasming cunt with his seed. his cock throbs with each string until he collapses on top of you, his weight pushing you further into the mattress. “fuck, that was amazing.” he pants, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “and it’s all for me.” he whispers in your ear, referring to your body.

after a moment of silence, he pulls out with a wet pop. a trail of cum flows, painting your thighs with its sticky substance. he rolls off of you with a satisfied smile, but bites his lip when he spots his cum on you. “turn around and show me that pretty ass.”

“what—” you’re cut off when he guides you on your hands and knees, in the position he wants you in. his favorite; ass up with your pussy on full display. a shiver runs down your spine. it was silly to think you were getting off the hook that easy.

he shifts behind you, hands grasping your thighs as he aligns himself between your spread legs. one finger traces the marks he left earlier, your hips backing into him unknowingly. “so eager. tell me what you need, slut. beg for it.” he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance, letting you feel his growing erection.

chris waits patiently, your body practically calling his name to be filled again. he can see the desperation in the way you arch your back, presenting yourself even more. “you know what to say.” he points out. “i want to hear those dirty words from your smart mouth.”

he delivers a sharp smack to one cheek, watching the flesh jiggle and flush pink under the force. he massages the sting away, waiting for you to give him what he wants. “please, chris.” you pout, feeling embarrassed about how at this moment you can’t live without his cock. “please, fuck me again, baby. use me however you want.” it seems like you don’t know who you are anymore. hours ago you were tough and mighty, but now you’re small and submissive.

pulling you back against him, he lines up his dick with your soaked sex. “that’s it, princess.” he says, his breath hot against your ear. “swallowing my cock like the good girl i know.”

bullying himself inside of your used hole, your eyes roll back from being filled with him again. just as before, you wrap deliciously around him. he sets a quick pace, the sound of your bodies conjoining bouncing off of the walls. “you’re still so tight.” he hisses.

your mouth falls open in a silent scream as he slams into you, the wideness spreading you open and hitting spots you didn't know existed. it’s almost too much, but you love it. “yes! yes! yes!” you cry out, meeting each of his powerful thrusts. “h-harder.”

the explicit sounds of your guys’ love making fill the air, conjoining with your moans and the slap of skin. you can feel another orgasm building, your walls fluttering wildly around his base. “do-don’t stop. don't ever stop.” you babble incoherently, lost in the trance of ecstasy. “i’m g-gonna—”

feeling your gummy walls squeeze around him, chris is determined to bring you to release. “cum for me.” he insists, brunette strands sticking to his forehead. “come on, give it to me.”

he can feel his own high approaching, his balls tightening as he nears. he holds back, wanting to put you before him. walls spasming, your moans become a higher pitch. “i’m cumming! fuck, i’m—” you don’t finish your sentence when the familiar ring of white moves down his shaft. chris fills you up one more time shortly after, ropes of cum shooting into your womb.

exhausted is an understatement. you know damn well you’re going to be walking from side to side for days, possibly weeks. “i love you so fucking much.” he breathes from next to you, kissing your shoulder. you hum in response, shutting your eyes. if that didn’t make you learn your lesson, you don’t know what will.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @freshsturns @etershine @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew @deareststurns

[chvoswxtch]

the devil and the widow

[status: in progress]

summary: matt murdock is recruited by S.H.I.E.L.D. to help take down a trafficking ring run by a new crime organization that rose to power in fisk’s absence. he’s forced to work agent y/l/n, who’s just as thrilled about the pairing as he is. as the investigation unravels more webs of lies, haunting details are uncovered, and matt starts to question who he’s actually working for, especially as he digs further beneath the skeletons of his mysterious partner’s dark past. every revelation leaves matt with the same unsettling question; who’s the real villain?

a/n: there was an idea...and it got out of hand and so here we are. i'm so excited to finally share this with y'all. it's been in the works for quite some time now. if you loved the bodyguard, I really hope you'll love this one. it's another slow burn, so get comfy. there's also going to be a lot of mature themes in this series, as well as spice (duh), but as always, I will post specific content warnings for each chapter as they drop.

if you've been in the daredevil fandom this whole time, it's great to see your beautiful faces again. if you're new here from dd born again, on behalf of all of us, welcome. we're glad you're here.

without further ado, sit back, relax, grab a drink and a snack, maybe some tissues, and enjoy.

»— anything marked with an astrik contains explicit content. minors dni.

»— all work is my own. please do not repost anywhere else without my consent.

chapter one: the head of the snake

chapter two: follow my lead

chapter three: by any means necessary

chapter four: an olive branch

chapter five: lucky

chapter six: the entertainment

chapter seven: back up plan

chapter eight:

chapter nine:

chapter ten:

chapter eleven:

chapter twelve:

chapter thirteen:

chapter fourteen:

chapter fifteen:

chapter sixteen:

chapter seventeen:

chapter eighteen:

chapter nineteen:

chapter twenty:

chapter twenty one:

the devil and the widow soundtrack

taglist sign up for updates

[f0point5]

i NEED jealous Max. Please 🥺🥺🥺 I love jealous/possessive guys haha the feminism just leaves my body

Me too! GOD. Me, too.

It took me ages to decide how to go about this because I had soooo many ideas but I hope you like it!

✨set during the Miami GP weekend 2022✨

Everybody wants you, but I don’t like a gold rush

Max glances down at his watch. 17 minutes. 17 minutes you’ve been standing in the gallery area of the garage, fanning yourself with a magazine - with Max’s face on the front of it, no less - in the Miami heat, talking to some freakishly tall guy in a Louis Vuitton denim jacket and aviator sunglasses. He’s so painfully American that Max wonders what you even have to talk about for…eighteen minutes.

You tighten your high ponytail while Paul Bunyon talks, his mouth wide with every word. Max studies your face for any sign that you’re bored. He’s bored of watching this, but he knows from experience that not looking isn’t a real option. You haven’t looked over at him once in those eighteen minutes, in fact you haven’t even been distracted by the mechanics moving around or the noise of drilling and clattering tools.

This guy must be really fucking interesting.

You smile at something Captain America says and Max feels his jaw clenched so hard he thinks a tooth is going to crack.

It’s like he’s thirteen again, watching you stand in the middle of the makeshift paddock at the karting track, swarmed by every one of his competitors, their parents packing up their stuff as they vie for your attention. He was the only one who stayed away, following his dad’s instructions on how to properly dismantle and store things while sneaking glimpses at the show you were running. He would win every race and still go home feeling like a loser.

It’s different now, of course. He doesn’t take your gregarious nature so personally now, and he can admit he understands what men see in you now, even if he doesn’t feel it. But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t trigger something in him to see the way men react to you. It might irritate him less if you enjoyed it, but you’ve long since grown out of that. Now, you expect it so much that you ignore it, and Max has no choice to but to notice it, the same way you’d notice a rusty knife embedded in your side.

“You’re not listening to me, are you?” GP says, which snaps Max out of his calculations.

“I’m listening,” Max says, fiddling with the brim of his cap. “Drive fast, win race, I got it,”

GP frowns at his dismissive tone, and Max makes a point of looking at his water bottle, lest GP realise what actually had his attention. “Max, you need to focus. What are you even-“ It’s the sound of your laugh - high pitched over the deep bass of the music - that makes GP look across the garage. His features twist in disapproval as he turns back to Max. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”

Max looks down at his shoes, moving his foot as he inspects them. “What?”

Above him, GP groans. “I’m not going to say anything about the situation as a whole, because it’s waste of my time. But specifically now, she’s right there, she’s not going anywhere. Can we please just go through this once and then you can carry on staring?”

Max rolls his eyes, steeling his face as a cameraman enters the garage. He’s wearing a Red Bull shirt so Max doesn’t mind too much, but he can’t be captured looking as morose as he feels. The cameraman pans past him and onto you and the guest. Max watches you cringe as the guy throws up some hand sign to the camera, clearly at home with the media attention.

“Who even is that?” Max asks, unable to hide his rancour. He’s probably going to be forced to take a picture with Popeye later.

“I don’t know, some American football player?” GP says with a shrug, giving Max a helpless look. GP couldn’t give less of a shit about the celebrity guests touted around the gargae, and normally Max is his ally. “Are we done?”

Max nods, but not even a second later he’s looking again. It gets worse the more you talk, he can see this guy becoming more enchanted by the second. He wonders what kind of steroids they take in American sports leagues because the meathead is acting like a dog in heat. He leans towards you at an angle that is wholly unnecessary, his eyes fixated on your mouth, nodding too emphatically at everything you say.

“My God, why doesn’t he just lick her face,” Max says incredulously, more to himself than anything.

“Max,” GP sighs.

“Come on,” Max implores with a scoff, stopping himself from outright gesturing in your direction. “Look at him. That’s embarrassing,”

GP fixes Max with a deadpan expression. “Right, but you being sulky and jealous is the height of cool?”

“I’m not jealous.”

And he isn’t. Because Joe DiMaggio over there doesn’t have anything he wants. He’s not going to waste time being jealous of a guy getting half an hour with you when he has cats, and a home, and a life with you.

Finally, you look in his direction, but only because GP calls your name. “Can you come here?”

You give GP a thumbs up and excuse yourself, trotting over to Max without a second thought. Wannabe Tom Brady brazenly enjoys the view, and Max swears he hasn’t been that close to punching someone since Monza last year.

“What’s up?” You ask, slotting yourself between the two men as you lean back against the shelf.

GP hands you his phone. “Beat this Candy Crush level for me, would you? Been stuck for days,”

You look at him skeptically, but years of being filmed up close by cameras on the pit wall have given GP a hell of a poker face; he just stares back at you, and you give up with a huff.

“Men are hopeless,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“Couldn’t agree more,” GP says, his eyes pointedly on Max, who can’t even defend himself.

Desperate to avoid GP’s scrutiny, he glances over at the gallery, only to find the Yank looking at him. Well, not him, you. He’s got that curious expression as he assesses you fiddling with GP’s phone, one that says he’s trying to understand if he has something to be worried about. He doesn’t. You’re not his to worry about.

“Here,” Max says, pulling off his cap. You barely look up at him before he puts his cap firmly on your head, holding it steady with one hand while pulling your ponytail through the hole at the back with the other.

The brim of the hat obscures half your face, and Max turns so that half your body is shielded by his, which he tells himself is in case a camera comes by.

“It’s sunny,” Max shrugs in his own defence, when he notices you looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

You adjust the cap on your head but don’t take it off. “Why don’t you just give me your letterman jacket?”

“My what?”

“Never mind,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him as you pat his chest with an indulgent smile.

He takes the opportunity at the sound of a large wheel gun to glance over at the gallery, only to meet the eyes of the guy you were talking to. Now that you’re no longer next to him, Max does sort of recognise him. He plays for some team named after an animal. Max just looks at him - he’ll do this all day if he has to - until the guy shoves his hands in his pockets and pulls out his phone, starting to tap away. Yeah, go back to Raya.

Good riddance, Max thinks to himself as he turns back to you, only to find that you already looking at him. He wonders for how long.

He can tell by your smirk that he’s been caught. If he’s honest with himself you caught him five years ago, this was just one of the few moments he let you know it. And you know it. How could you not know?

He thinks for a second that you’re going to tease him, but you don’t. You shift on your feet so that some of your weight rests against his arm, and go back to playing on GP’s phone.

“Go on, GP,” he says, fighting a smile at the large number 1 on the brim of what is now your hat.

He knows from the way GP is looking at him that he’ll get an earful about this later, but right now, he just clears his throat.

“Right, so,”

[zorosangell]

⛥*ﾟ・。* masterlist (under construction)

note: masterlist updates will be sporadic and not scheduled at all. if you want the link to a specific fic just ask. and they are in release order

— protector: full wattpad ver.

⤷ chapter one, ⤷ chapter two, ⤷ chapter three, ⤷ chapter four, ⤷ chapter five, ⤷ chapter six, ⤷ chapter seven, ⤷ chapter eight, ⤷ chapter nine, ⤷ chapter ten, ⤷ chapter eleven, ⤷ chapter twelve, ⤷ chapter thirteen, ⤷ chapter fourteen, ⤷ chapter fifteen, ⤷ chapter sixteen, ⤷ chapter seventeen, ⤷ chapter eighteen, ⤷ chapter nineteen, ⤷ chapter twenty, ⤷ chapter twenty-one, ⤷ chapter twenty-two, ⤷ chapter twenty-three, ⤷ chapter twenty-four, ⤷ chapter twenty-five, ⤷ chapter twenty-six, more pending...

— lucky punch

⤷ chapter one, ⤷ chapter two, ⤷ chapter three more pending...

— perfect match

⤷ chapter one, more pending...

— piña colada

⤷ x -- some women just can't take a hint... good thing zoro's only got eyes for one girl

— onigiri

⤷ x -- zoro's on a training binge and refuses to bathe... this, unless its with you

— happy birthday

⤷ x -- it's a known fact that zoro can't stand his birthday... but when you finally discover the date, you can't help putting together something special

— oiran

⤷ x -- while luffy and the others are off saving sanji, zoro is assigned the role of a ronin, and told to keep a low profile as he roams the land of wano... but he riks revealing himself and the entire crew when he discovers you're a nearby oiran, and in need of his rescue

— rice crackers

⤷ x -- after nami discovers a little girl stowing away on the sunny, the crew comes together to interrogate her... but she won't stop claiming to be your daughter

— stein

⤷ x -- while you're laughing at the stories told to you by some rando at the bar, zoro can't help but be affected by the green-eyed monster. nami and robin try to quell his worries... but things take a turn for the worst when the man puts his hands on you

— kunoichi

⤷ x -- the story of how you met the strawhat crew (and your swordsman)

— vice admiral

⤷ x -- after receiving some terrible news by news coo, you're left completely devastated. the crew does their best to console you, to no avail... and zoro realizes that, for once, his actions won't speak louder than his words... and makes a promise he's willing to die to keep

— jug

⤷ x -- after going out to search for luffy, you and zoro stumble upon a bottle of pink sake. zoro drinks it without question, but lives to regret it, as you have to deal with the consequences... physically

— theory

⤷ x -- the effects of a devil fruit age zoro into a forty year-old version of himself. and after his initial annoyance passes, he grows thankful... as you can't seem to keep your hands off him.

— fantasy

⤷ x -- part two of theory

— pit

⤷ x -- time and time again zoro has forgotten about your outings, leaving you dressed up and alone on several occasions. but after nami witnesses it in person, she finally puts her foot down... and you finally confront your swordsman.

— knight

⤷ x -- as a princess, you constantly have a bounty on your head, which means you are almost always under attack whenever the crew docks on an island. so, after zoro saves you from being kidnapped again, you both have a heart to heart... which ends in a little confession.

— inn

⤷ x -- you'd known zoro nearly all your life—having grown up with the swordsman in his home village—and considered him the most important person in your life... so, after luffy saves you both from the execution yard and invites you to join his crew, you can't help but feel like your lack of strength will end up becoming a hindrance to zoro's dream

— bento

⤷ x -- part two of inn -- you and zoro have a heartfelt reunion on the sabaody archipelago... with the help of a kindly fisherman.

— mistletoe

⤷ x -- nami has to school zoro in the art of gift-giving in order to save your first christmas together. luckily, he manages to wise up... and gives you a gift you won't ever forget.

— ham melon

⤷ x -- after you contract a rare, deadly disease, zoro has to take care of you... the best he can.

— nurse

⤷ x -- a mysterious man crash lands on your gloomy island, and you patch him up... unaware of his odd relationship with your father.

— nightgown

⤷ x -- after two wonderful years with the swordsman, you're reluctant to let him go, especially without telling him how you feel. luckily, he feels the exact same way... and more than accepts your scanty going away present.

— brand

⤷ x -- you return to the ship with a horrible injury... and zoro goes fucking berserk.

— bmf

⤷ x -- zoro doesn't take kindly to you being disrespected... at all.

— endgame

⤷ x -- prequel to inn -- when chopper asks about your past, zoro reminisces on your history together... and is reminded of exactly what you are to him.

— boxers

⤷ x -- part two of pit -- zoro saves your life (ish) and finally finds the courage to win you back

— stupid

⤷ x -- part two of oiran -- zoro starts an argument over you going undercover as orochi's personal oiran. and it ends... interestingly.

— pleasures

⤷ x -- in an effort to get him to relax, you give your moss-haired boyfriend a massage, and get him riled up in the process... how else is he supposed to repay you?

— sweetheart

⤷ x -- after winning a candlelit dinner for two, zoro tries his best to ask you out... though you don't seem to catch the hint.

— rum

⤷ x -- part three of nurse, part two of nightgown -- nami notices zoro's recent, odd behavior and decides to drag him out to a bar in order to confront him. little does she know his funk is due to the absence of a certain someone... and little does he know that certain someone is right under his nose.

— white lotus

⤷ x -- you and your squadron reprimand zoro and bring him back to the castle after he's found wandering around in your kingdom's forest. turns out, the crew is already there since, surprise surprise, luffy destroyed something he wasn't supposed to. now the crew has to plead their case... but while they're doing so, zoro can't seem to keep his eyes off a certain someone, nor understand the weird feeling in his chest at the sight of her strength.

— reading

⤷ x -- after plotting on zoro for the longest, you finally decide to make your move... the only question is what zoro's willing to risk.

— round two

⤷ x -- part two of white lotus -- things get a little heated during a sparring session between you and the moss-haired swordsman. and the results are... inconclusive.

— firewood

⤷ x -- stumbling across a small shack in the country of wano, the last thing you expected was to find your boyfriend snuggled up with an oiran... zoro's got a lot of explaining to do.

— hibiscus

⤷ x -- after a wardrobe malfunction at the pool, you're left soaked and topless... luckily, you have a hot boyfriend to come to your rescue.

— scent

⤷ x -- zoro wakes up in the mood... and you'd be crazy not to oblige.

— stall

⤷ x -- after you catch a girl trying to spike zoro's drink, all hell breaks loose... hell being you.

— receipt

⤷ x -- part two of reading -- a rude store manager and an unruly gang of bounty hunters learn how much zoro DOES NOT play about the daughter of red-haired shanks (i.e you)

— beach

⤷ x -- after zoro finds you unconscious on an abandoned beach, he quickly takes you to shelter... where he learns that something's off.

— sake

⤷ x -- your friends-with-benefits relationship with zoro becomes complicated when he gets monstrously drunk and begins to confess his deepest, darkest feelings about you.

— daises and posies

⤷ x -- a kid with the hots for you begins to challenge zoro, insulting his pride as a swordsman and capabilities as a partner until the mosshead finally snaps... leaving you as the only thing standing between all-out war

— pocus

⤷ x -- when you're a no-show for your scheduled merienda, katakuri begins to worry. little does he know you're right in the middle of a Big Mom hunger pang, and she seems to be craving your specialty...

— sample

⤷ x -- prequel to pocus -- katakuri's dreams of you come to a head when he learns that the two of you are already engaged to be married. and to make matters worse, your ex-boyfriend makes a rather unpleasant appearance while the sweet commander is picking up his order of doughnuts.

— merienda

⤷ x -- prequel two of pocus -- a year into your marriage to the minister of flour, and you two had failed to progress past that of acquaintances. so, to liven things up, you decide to deliver your husband's daily tea in a rather scanty outfit, hoping to ignite a spark... only to discover his deep, dark secret.

[echodoctor]

I wonder if part of why Siffrin is the party member most willing to let Bonnie do things the others are worried will be too risky or scary for them is because they were more or less on their own from a fairly early age?

The creator of In Stars And Time mentioned once that Siffrin was a teenager when the Northern Island vanished.

I personally assume that he was thirteen. Now, there's wiggle room there- she didn't specify an exact age, just "a teenager". They could have been older.

But since they were trying to play a prank by "running away from home" (for like twenty minutes tops) when the whole thing happened- and over not wanting to eat their veggies, no less- I feel pretty reasonable in assuming that we're talking about someone on the young end of the teenage range here, not like an eighteen year old with the RPG Fantasy World version of a job and a driver's license.

So, thirteen.

And if Bonnie is somewhere around eleven or twelve, that's... not that far off, age-wise.

Siffrin doesn't really seem to have had anyone looking out for them, before. Presumably someone must have helped them at least a little when they first arrived, but I get the feeling it was less "oh no we have to get you a foster family you poor dear!!" and more along the lines of getting directions to the local homeless shelter and food pantry equivalents- probably a House of Change, since caring for those in need seems like the kind of duty a religious institution would have in a pre-modern society, and what we see about Housemaiden duties from Mirabelle and Euphrasie does appear to involve a lot of community outreach and support.

Which is great in terms of "not actually dying", but larger institutions are usually dealing with a lot of things at once and can't provide a lot of careful individual attention. So Siffrin was likely just... figuring out how to be a functional person on their own.

So all of that basically boils down to: I'm not sure Siffrin actually has any idea what the normal amount of responsibility and independence a kid is "supposed" to have is, because they have no memory of ever having an adult who could look out for them in the first place.

They're just mentally referencing what they were doing when they were Bonnie's age and going 'hmm, well that wasn't great but I didn't die or anything... let's make sure they have some adult supervision and reassure them they can ask us for help if they want to, and it'll probably be fine'.

...Which, it turns out, is actually a pretty decent approach here, because despite the party's best efforts Bonnie is still essentially a refugee from a country-wide disaster, and trying to treat them like a kid who's living a completely stable, normal, sheltered life ignores a lot of what they're going through.

They're not trying to make Bonnie's life fit into what a "normal" childhood should be, because they never got to have one. And Bonnie responds well to that because it's coming from a place of empathy and shared similar experiences.

tl;dr Former semi-feral free range child mentors current semi-feral free range child, results surprisingly positive.

[grandline-fics]

Immune To Your Charms

DESCRIPTION: Soulmates are incapable of harming the other in any way. Normally that would be a good thing but not when you're meant to be enemies.

WARNINGS: It's Doflamingo so he's his own warning. Brief mentions of violence and killing. Enemies to Lovers, Soulmate!AU, some slight suggestiveness(?)

CHARACTERS: Doflamingo

WORDS: 4,540

A/N: The next chapter is here and I'm a lot happier with how this one turned out. Thank you to everyone who voted in the recent poll to determine one of the reader's talents and I think it linked into the story better than I'd anticipated. I hope you all like what I came up with and thank you for all your support, it means a lot 💕

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen(here) | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen(coming soon)

——————

After having a taste for escaping your room, you grew more determined to get out of bed at least a couple times a day. In your eyes if the doctors were happy to reduce the strength of your medicine then you were getting well enough to be more physical even if it was a light walk into the corridors. Some attempts were more successful than others. Some occasions you’d managed to avoid anyone spotting you until you were already headed back to your room and allowed them to usher you back to bed without much resistance. Other times you were caught almost immediately. Depending on who it was, their tactics for getting you back to your room varied. 

The servants pleaded, fearing Doflamingo’s anger would be directed their way, some even going so far as to fall onto their knees in front of you. The doctors tried to convince you to be a little more patient and with a few more days of complete bedrest you could maybe start attempting light exercise but not yet, throwing medical jargon at you to exhaust and frustrate you. For them you dug your heels in but eventually went back. Then the middle and lower ranked pirates seemed the most unsure about how to approach you because you always held your ground with them, refusing to go to your room. They couldn’t order you to go back and touching you was not an option so all they could do was block your way forward while one of the group ran off to get Doflamingo. 

It didn’t matter what the Warlord was doing, all it took was the report you were out of bed to get him to his feet. He followed the subordinate to your location. Upon seeing him appear you would let out a huff, watching him approach and let your body go limp when he lifted you; sometimes under his arm or over his shoulder. Normally he went straight for your room, this time however he turned and started to head back in the direction of his office. “Oh, we going the scenic route today?”

“You’re sounding better.” Doflamingo noted, choosing to ignore your question. “Your breathing seems clearer.”

“That’s what I keep telling you and your doctors, I’m practically completely healed.”

“Apart from your unrecovered energy levels, remaining infection reading in your latest test, limited-”

“I said practically, not entirely. No need to get smart.” You cut in with an unimpressed roll of your eyes as you heard the office doors open while Doflamingo laughed. “So, why the change today?”

“I have a lot of work to catch up on and so long as you’re here you won’t get into trouble.”

“I could get into plenty of trouble here if I wanted to.” You answered with a disgruntled mutter as you were dropped unceremoniously onto the plush sofa near his desk. 

“Well then by all means, cause trouble.” Doflamingo taunted down at you, the challenging grin fixed firmly on his lips as he watched you recline against the cushions and glared at him while a pout shaped your lips. 

“Don’t want to. Maybe later.” You explained. Truthfully the walk through the halls before you were caught had started to drain you and now that you were sitting down again, you weren’t going to get back up anytime soon. Doflamingo didn’t need to know that though. Even if he correctly assumed the reason for your choice to relax against the sofa, you weren’t going to admit it out loud. Draping your arm over the back of the sofa and laying your head against it you glanced towards the desk to see the stacks of papers on the usually tidied and more managed surface. “Wow, you weren’t kidding about work. Guess there’s more to being a King and ruler of a criminal empire than attending fancy galas and terrorising civilians.”

“I much prefer the paperwork to fancy galas.” Doflamingo told while while he slid into his desk chair and lifted the top sheet of paper on one of his piles. 

“Oh yeah, good food, good booze. Simply torture.” You drawled sarcastically.

“Go to one you’ve been to them all. Besides there’s no actual entertainment.” Doflamingo explained without taking his eyes from the report of materials expected to be brought to Dressrosa’s SMILE factory in the coming days. “Everyone tries to be sneaky and subtle about their clumsy assassination attempts and seductions and fail spectacularly. Plus the fancier they are, the less blood gets spilled. Boring.”

“Awww poor King Doffy doesn’t get to massacre rich people.” You pouted in false sympathy. “However will you survive such hardships?”

“With admirable dignity and humility.” Doflamingo grinned when you let out a small amused huff at his reply and moved onto the next set of reports. “Why so curious anyway? Would have thought you’d have harsher feelings than I do on fancy nobles and their parties.”

“Being a bodyguard on the sidelines or stationed outside their rooms until they returned isn’t exactly the same as attending.” You shrugged lazily. You weren’t often stationed on those kinds of missions. Normally your assignments were more action and surveillance based. Protecting people of importance and wealth was usually left to those with higher ranks and for the most part those were the easiest jobs about since it was more a precaution than a necessity to have a Marine presence at such events. You hardly needed to worry or think about that now though, given your new place in life. No longer dwelling on it, you focused your attention onto Doflamingo once more.

Silently you were impressed to see how much he’d manage to work through in such a short amount of time. It made you wonder why he’d let it all just gather in the first place. You knew enough by now to know the correspondences, missives, updates and completed reports from subordinates never came through at a rate to make it unmanageable. Because you’d been so ill you hadn’t heard much chatter from the servants that you’d normally pick up on when they were unaware you were in earshot so you had no idea what else was happening with Doflamingo or the rest of Dressrosa. Then you paused, had he neglected everything because you’d been ill? You recalled how nervous everyone was around him while you’d been so close to death. Perhaps it was for the best he’d ignored those reports until now. You noticed his jaw clench slightly as he read over the sheets of paper in his hands before setting it aside to a new pile while making note of something on a different sheet of paper. Had he read that a week ago, there was no telling how he’d have dealt with it and the person who sent the report had no idea how lucky they were.

————

Over the course of the next few days your plans to leave your room were already met and anticipated by Doflamingo before any servant, doctor, or subordinate could find you first. As expected you were brought to his office and dropped on his sofa while he continued to work. Some cases you grabbed a random book from the shelves to flick through to pass the time in between idly talking to Doflamingo or taking a small nap. 

For you it was just nice to be somewhere other than your room and you weren’t pestered as much here as you would have been in your room by the still hovering and assessing doctors. Even with your visible improvement they weren’t ready to give you a complete all-clear just yet, their protectiveness and cautiousness stemming from their own need of self-preservation more than anything. For Doflamingo, having the reassurance that you were staying still and technically resting while also being in his line of sight brought him the ability to focus on things again. At least for the most part because today it seemed like you were determined to be restless. You were constantly shifting on the sofa, adjusting the cushions, lifting the current book that had your attention only to close it and set it aside repeatedly. 

While he was re-reading the same line of the report for what felt like the tenth time he finally looked up when you rose from the sofa and started walking around the spacious office. Surely you had everything memorised by now but still you casually let your eyes scan everything, searching for something you might have missed or something to capture your unsettled attention. Finally you stopped longer than you had at anything else and Doflamingo sighed when he realised what it was. “Have you been cleared yet for alcohol?”

“Have you given them permission to clear me yet for alcohol?” You asked lazily, turning your head to give him an accusatory stare. Your fingers curled around the handle of the drinks cabinet and slowly opened it, your knowing smile growing when Doflamingo clicked his tongue. Your pressed a little more. “I’m down to medication just once a day now. Just a little one? I’ll even be nice and let you pour.” 

Even as you asked you didn’t fully wait for an answer, your fingers were already skimming along the neck of the first bottle you came into contact with, but not firmly taking it yet. Keeping your eyes only on Doflamingo allowed you to at least pretend to be innocent. After a few seconds Doflamingo sat back in his seat and arched his fingers, pulling two glasses from the inside of the cabinet and letting them settle silently onto his desk. Immediately you grabbed the bottle under your touch and brought it to him, perching yourself on the edge of the desk while handing the bottle over. You looked momentarily surprised to see him pour a plentiful amount into the first glass but then you glowered when he poured a pathetic dribble by comparison into the second and pushed it towards you. “Cheers.”

“Gee thanks.” You hummed unenthusiastically. Really you knew to be grateful to even get that much when he could have easily been a bigger asshole and given you a single drop instead. Lifting your glass you took a small sip, deciding to savour the drink you had. The rich taste flooded your mouth and you wanted to drain the glass completely now but knew you had to resist that urge. Forcing yourself to take sips you distracted yourself with the paperwork on the desk. 

Your eyes scanned the different locations each report was coming from, places deep into the Grand Line and as far back as the North, South, East, and West Blues. You caught sight of ‘Wano’ on a letter underneath a few other pages and your eyes flickered to Doflamingo. So his criminal empire even had a connection to Kaidou? Deciding you were better off not delving any deeper into things you turned on the desk so you were instead facing the window behind Doflamingo and let your gaze drift upwards. The usually bright blue skies seemed to be gathering more clouds today. While you were silently predicting that rain was going to hit at some point in the day you were pulled from your thoughts when you heard Doflamingo’s pen snap and his voice growling out a curse of anger. “Problem?” 

“Weapon shipment got intercepted by the group they were meant to be used on.” Doflamingo growled, casting the missive aside to take a longer drink from his own glass, now in greater need for the sharp alcohol. These things did happen occasionally but it was infuriating all the same. You lifted the paper and scanned over the report. You didn’t see any mention of who the groups were. The name of the island the report came from didn’t ring a bell as being a place under protection or rule of the World Government. Your expression became thoughtful, not escaping Doflamingo’s notice. “What?”

“Civilians aren’t involved in this?” You asked, deciding to address that point before speaking your mind. 

“No, it’s a lawless island. Two major criminal groups are fighting over territory.” He explained, sitting back in his seat, propping his foot onto his knee. “What are you thinking?”

“Let the opposing group keep the weapons they intercepted.” You explained, rolling your eyes when Doflamingo interrupted you with a bored, uninterested noise. “Extort a bigger payment for replacement weapons to be sent out to the group it was intended for since they’re clearly compromised and there’s a risk of getting intercepted again.”

“Who said they’re compromised?” 

“They probably aren’t but it’ll spread distrust amongst them.” You shrugged, taking the final sip in your glass. “Tensions will be high anyway, no doubt some will already be thinking how their enemies knew about the weapons coming. It’ll lead to infighting, some will most likely defect and start a third group. That third group will need weapons too and they’ll reach out to you.”

Doflamingo’s grin had been spreading the more you talked. Truly you had a diabolical mind when it came to dealing with criminals. So long as it didn’t involve innocents or civilians, you held no remorse for letting criminals hurt or kill each other. It was an added sign you were recovering because the last time he caught a glimpse of this side of you was just before you’d fallen ill and you’d both kissed after he watched you kill. Quickly needing to wipe the memory of the tempting taste of your lips Doflamingo drained his glass and grabbed the bottle of alcohol, pouring another small amount into your glass and then poured into his own. 

“I think a plan like that deserves another drink.” He explained, grinning at your confusion over his actions. Slowly you looked up at him and smirked, not going to say no to another glass of the delicious drink. You lifted your glass and this time, you clinked your glass against his in gratitude.

————

As you’d expected rain did fall that night and into the following morning. When you stepped out of your room you were slightly caught off guard to see that Doflamingo was nowhere to be seen. Partly you suspected he was still in the dining room with the family for breakfast and if that was the case you knew it wouldn’t be long before he made his way to his office. As you walked you thought you would have run into him along the way but still he didn’t show. You were confused until you opened the doors and stopped to see Doflamingo already at his desk, reclined back on his seat and from the deep, even breaths you could see he was asleep. His face was obscured by an open book and as you stepped closer you saw it was the one you had been idly reading while he worked. 

Standing by the desk you saw that save for a couple of new reports and letters, everything else had been cleared away. Silently you became suspicious that he had decided to work through the night to clear the backlog. Perhaps after coming across the days old report of the intercepted weapon shipment, he didn’t want to risk missing any other important reports. With a small sigh you reached out, beginning to lift the book from his face only to stop when you saw under the cover of the book his glasses were no longer covering his closed eyes. You froze and stared as your attention was firmly grabbed by his face. You knew he was handsome, but without there was just something that heightened his looks now that the glasses no longer obscured his features. 

You could finally see the full peacefulness in his expression as he slept. Tilting your head you spotted the pale lashes brushing against his cheeks. You curiously now tried to picture him with different eye colours, trying to work out what suited him best and what the truth was. Looking around you couldn’t see his signature glasses anywhere and you weren’t about to start rifling through Doflamingo’s pockets for them. As carefully as you could you set the book back over his face and took your place on the edge of the desk, deciding to stay close just incase the book fell. In all your time here you knew it was an unspoken rule to never see Doflamingo’s eyes without his permission. 

You recalled passing by in the gardens one day to overhear one of the maids shaking in fear as she recounted for her friends that in the middle of one of his attempts to kill you, the glasses had slipped slightly. She explained that she turned her back in time and didn’t see a thing, relieved that Doflamingo was too busy with you to have even questioned what she saw. You remembered how the other servants sympathised with how frightening that must have been while also joining in her relief that no harm befell her for what would have been an accident. Part of you had considered waking him now while it was just the two of you but after seeing how peaceful he was, you decided he needed the rest even if it was for just a little while longer. 

That extra time didn’t last long at all. You heard the sound of footsteps approaching and moved on the desk to block more of Doflamingo from their view when they would open the door. However in your adjustment, it caused Doflamingo to stir in his sleep, the book falling to the floor before you could stop it. As you heard the soft knock and handle turning you moved without thinking. Your hand fell over Doflamingo’s eyes while you landed on his chair. With your knees on either side of his legs you made sure to keep all of your weight off of him and turned your head sharply to see who had entered. 

“Ah! U-um.” You stared hard at the servant who froze in place at the scene in front of him. For yet another instance in your time on Dressrosa there was an innocent explanation for what was happening but those that intruded saw things differently. From this servant’s perspective you were straddling his King, unable to see you were only doing this for his benefit.

“What is it?” You asked sharply, not knowing how much longer Doflamingo would be asleep for but your tone only served to fluster the servant, mistaking it for frustrated impatience. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to force his mind to work. His floundering however only annoyed you. 

“N-no-nothing important!” The servant finally managed to declare once he wasn’t so tongue-tied. “Sorry for intruding!”

You watched the servant bow lowly and scramble to leave the room, pulling the door shut behind him. You let out a sigh at the same time Doflamingo’s chuckle began to build in his chest. Still you remained unmoving, staring down at his laughing face as you kept your hand over his eyes. Only now you could feel that his eyes were open, his lashes brushing against your skin with each relaxed blink. 

“Where are your glasses?” You asked, not needing to explain yourself, knowing Doflamingo was awake long enough and smart enough to connect things. Still he laughed at the situation and could already imagine the gossip-hungry servants having this spread through the palace before lunchtime. To lazily answer your question, Doflamingo sat up from his previously reclined position and used his strings to pull his glasses from the top drawer of his desk and let them dangle in the air. With Doflamingo’s change in his seat you were closer against him but still you refused to draw any further attention to how close and intimate this was and how easily it could have been deepened should either of you wishes it to. Instead you kept on the topic at hand. “Aren’t you going to put them on?” 

“Don’t you want to see first?” Doflamingo asked in amusement but you could clearly hear the curiosity underneath. 

“What horrors await me if I look?” You asked, a small smile curving your lips while Doflamingo’s grin grew. “Everyone’s so scared about what happens if they see, it needs to live up to the hype. Will I turn to stone? Or will I have my eyes gouged out maybe?”

“Does it matter? You’re unaffected regardless of what would await you.” Even though his eyes were covered, Doflamingo could practically hear the bored pout shaping your lips at his answer. “Choice is yours though.”

You weighed the options but ultimately decided that seeing that part of Doflamingo, to see a part of him no one else was allowed to was a step in trust and further closeness you weren’t ready to invite or indulge. Keeping your hand in place you leant over to reach for the glasses suspended in the air. You stilled when you felt Doflamingo’s hand settle on your lower back; not to pull you closer but just to simply keep you steady. You managed to get a firm hold on the glasses and pulled them towards Doflamingo’s face. “Close your eyes.”

Doflamingo smirked and did as you instructed, only feeling the gentle warmth of your touch leave his face when you felt his eyes close firmly and were certain he was going to keep them closed. He felt the cold frames brush against his skin and even after he felt the familiar dark tinted lenses hover over his eyes he still kept them closed. You stared down at him for a moment, amazed at how different he seemed now all because of his glasses. To those who were scared of him, never knowing what lay beneath the very recognisable accessories only added to the menacing and mysterious enigma that was Donquixote Doflamingo. To you though, this was the version of him that you knew and were used to. “Okay, you can open them now.”

“You took your time.” Doflamingo chuckled. “Were you going to change your mind?”

“Nope, was just relishing in you doing as you were told for just a little while longer.”

“Well with a view like this can you blame me? Now I can fully appreciate what got my servant so flustered.”

“Oh shut up.” You lightly rolled your eyes at his teasing, shoving his shoulder as he grinned widely. You finally rose from his lap and crouched down to collect the fallen book from the floor. As you straightened and stronger and clearer knock sounded compared to the soft and meek one the servant had made. 

“Doffy, is it okay to come in now?” You frowned at the deep voice, you didn’t recognise the speaker on the other side of the door. Doflamingo knew him though and with a twitch of his finger he pulled the doors open with his ability. You watched the figure enter and you stiffened to see Vice-Admiral Vergo walk into the room, completely at ease. You knew Doflamingo had people working on his behalf from inside the Marines given how well-connected he was but you had no idea it went so high. You remained standing in place by the desk while Vergo came to a stop in front of his, his attention firmly on Doflamingo. 

“This is a surprise.” He grinned at his subordinate. “This a social call or is it something more pressing?”

“Social but I’ll be setting off again very soon.” Vergo replied simply. “Decided to stop by on my way to Punk Hazard. Partly I wanted to see your soulmate for myself Doffy, I truly didn’t see that coming when you first told me they rendered your abilities powerless.” Finally Vergo turned his head toward you. “Your personal affects from your Marine lodgings were sent into storage. I brought what I could with me and instructed one of the servants to leave them in your room when I arrived.”

Your personal affects? You frowned slightly at that. Any uniforms you had there would have been reclaimed for officers. The same would have been the case for any of your standard issue weapons. At first you couldn’t think of what would have been snuck out of storage to bring to Dressrosa then your eyes widened. You wasted no time and left the room, moving straight for your room. Seeing you leave so abruptly made Doflamingo’s grin slip slightly, and he looked to his elite officer as he rose from his seat. After having sat for so long through the night finishing his work and sleeping, he now needed to stretch his legs. “What was that about?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. First I need to ask, when I arrive on Punk Hazard am I to check on his progress regarding the research you asked him to look into?” 

Doflamingo left the office with Vergo matching his strides, walking in silence as Doflamingo considered the question. In the beginning when the first few attempts to kill you hadn’t worked he’d tasked the scientist to look into the matter of soulmates to find a way to kill you by his own hand. Since there’d been no updates or theories on how to undo fate from him, and with the recent events Doflamingo hadn’t bothered to contact him. “Since he’s yielded no results in the time I’ve given him, tell him to stop and return all of his focus to SAD. The last thing he needs is to fall behind schedule.” Vergo nodded and for a moment Doflamingo thought he’d take his leave immediately. It was never in him to linger, out of a need to ensure the wrong person didn’t spot him in Dressrosa and blow his cover that he was truly on the side of the Donquixote Family. “Was there anything else you wanted to discuss, Vergo?”

“Hm? No. I just wanted to hear first.”

“Hear what?” To answer Doflamingo’s question a sound began to break through the silent corridors. What began as the low testing of a bow against the strings, playing individual chords soon turned into the starting of a song. Immediately it caught his attention, the striking melody building and capturing notice of the rest of the inhabitants within earshot. Vergo let out a low appreciative whistle at the obvious mastery of your playing. Satisfied he bid farewell to Doflamingo and moved towards the palace’s exit while Doflamingo headed closer to the sound of the violin being played finally stopping at the open door. You stood in the middle of the room, eyes closed and lost entirely in the song you were playing. As the song quickened Doflamingo couldn’t help but stare at your fingers moving against the strings under your precise command, noting how they arced and pressed beautifully in a way almost reminiscent of how his own hands moved when he used his strings. Of all the things you had a talent at, of all the instruments you  could have known to play, it had to be this. It just had to something that created another similarity and connection between you both and with each one he discovered it made it just an extra bit harder to want to sever it.

——————————————-

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[ageingfangirl2]

Hazbin Hotel x Child Reader Series

PART 1 - INTRODUCTION

TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTY-ONE TWENTY-TWO TWENTY-THREE TWENTY-FOUR TWENTY-FIVE TWENTY-SIX TWENTY-SEVEN TWENTY-EIGHT TWENTY-NINE THIRTY THIRTY-ONE

The last thing you remember is your dad coming into your bedroom and telling you to hide, mum screaming and many loud, angry male voices. You were hiding in your wardrobe when some police officer pulled you out and dragged you downstairs, where you saw both your parents handcuffed.

‘Mummy,’ you scream, break loose from the officer and run towards her.

A single gunshot rings out, and time slows down for you as you look down and see a red patch on your nightgown. You don’t hear your parents screaming; you feel warm before you close your eyes, tired.

When you open your eyes, you’re no longer in your living room but lying on red, hard ground. You check yourself over and see your nightgown is blood-free. You slowly stand up and take in your surroundings, noticing you are outside and that everything has a dark tinge to it.

‘Where am I?’ you mutter to yourself.

You see a large, slightly rundown hotel in front of you called ‘Hazbin Hotel’, maybe they could help you understand where you were and what had happened to you after you were shot. 

You walk up to the front door barefoot and knock, hoping whoever is inside ended up being friendly.

CHARLIE

The moment the front door opens and Charlie looks around, she sees no one until a small cough draws her attention down, and she sees you, small, shivering and eyes wide with fear. Her heart nearly breaks. She doesn’t hesitate to kneel to your height and reach her hands out.

‘Hey there, sweetheart. What’s your name?’ she asks softly.

You don’t answer right away, too overwhelmed by your surroundings. The hotel is big and run-down but strangely warm. Charlie gives you a reassuring smile.

‘You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. But you’re safe here, okay? No one is going to hurt you.’

You reach out to her, and she scoops you up like a protective mother, rubbing your back, while internally, she’s losing her mind at your cuteness.

Vaggie stands behind Charlie, shifting uncomfortably because nothing in hell is ever as simple as it seems.

VAGGIE

Vaggie stares at you suspiciously in Charlie’s arms. Charlie is already in ‘mum’ mode, but Vaggie has seen enough in both hell and heaven to know that nothing just happens. A child appearing on their doorstep all alone doesn’t sit right with her.

‘Charlie, babe, we don’t even know their name or where they’ve come from. What if this is some trap?’

Charlie glares at Vaggie, ‘The child is scared, Vaggie! We can’t just throw them back out there.’

Vaggie exhales sharply, rubbing her temples before walking up to you, ‘Okay, kid. Be straight with me. How’d you get here? Where’s your family? What’s your name?’

You squirm in Charlie’s arms, and she puts you down, still making sure you stay close to her.

ALASTOR

Alastor is interested, coming down to the lobby after hearing a commotion. He’s interested not in the ‘aw, cute kid’ way. More in the ‘what kind of mischief do we have here?’ way.

He looms over you, smiling wide, his red eyes gleaming, ‘Well, well, well! What a peculiar little guest we’ve gotten ourselves.’

Charlie frowns, ‘Alastor, don’t scare them.’

‘Scare them? Oh, perish the thought, dear. I simply find it…fascinating that a child would be wandering hell all alone. What could have possibly happened to bring them here, hmm?’ As he talks, he notices something. The way your lip curls when you’re nervous. The glimpse of something sharp beneath them. Fangs.

He chuckles and crouches down to your height, ‘Oh my, what sharp teeth you have. Why, I’d wager wherever you’ve come from, you’ve had a little taste of something…meatier before, haven’t you?’

Charlie steps between the two of you, ‘Alastor!’ she warns.

He raises his hands and stands back up, swinging his cane, but the amused glint in his eyes doesn’t fade, ‘Just a harmless observation, Charlie. I do wonder, though, what our little guest is truly capable of.’

Alastor, Charlie and Vaggie start arguing about you, leaving you to your own devices.

HUSK

Now, Husk doesn’t do kids. When he sees you begin to walk towards his bar, he groans, ‘Oh, hell no. Nope. nuh-uh. You? Over there. Anywhere but here, kid.’

He grabs you, carefully but firmly, lifting you by the back of your nightgown like a stray kitten. He seats you on one of the barstools, away from the booze.

Charlie shoots him a sharp look, ‘Husk, be nice.’

Husk grumbles but relents, shoving a deck of cards towards you, ‘here. Go nuts. Just don’t make a mess.’

When you start playing with the cards, he watches you out of the corner of his eye, maybe hoping you know a thing or two about cards, ‘Huh, maybe you ain’t so bad, kid,’ he mutters.

Until you drop all the cards on the floor, and he groans loudly and maybe a little over dramatically than what was actually called for, ‘Yeah, okay. Nope. You’re Charlie’s problem.’

Feeling a little bad, you clamber off the barstool and jump slightly, coming face to face with a small, one-eyed demon. Who blinks up at you with curiosity and a little too much excitement.

NIFFTY

Nifty appears out of nowhere, ‘OH MY GOSH, YOU’RE SMALL! LIKE ME! THIS IS AMAZING!’

She’s already buzzing around you, talking a mile a minute, ‘Do you like cleaning? Do you want to help me organise the kitchen knives? OOH, maybe we can fold towels together! Wait, do kids even do chores? What do you do for fun?’

Before you can answer, she’s grabbing your hand, giggling manically, and you can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. She starts dragging you away, mumbling about cleaning and what she’s going to show you first.

SIR PENTIOUS

In her enthusiasm, Nifty lets go of your hand, running off giddily. You nearly fall over, but you stop, coming face to face with an egg that had a face, hands and feet, something you’d never seen on earth. Then three more eggs appear, staring at you curiously.

Then you see a human-sized snake slithering towards you. Where exactly in hell were you?

‘Ah, a new guest,’ he hisses, ‘I’m Sir Pentious, a master inventor, and these are my egg bois.’

You giggle when he bows, so you curtsey back, ‘I’m y/n. Do you like science experiments? I like seeing things sizzle and boom.’

Sir Pentious’s eyes light up, ‘Ah, another kindred spirit; you’re welcome in my workshop anytime, little one.’

You watch him slither away with his egg creation,s following after him, calling him boss.

ANGEL DUST

He was lounging on the sofa, scrolling through his phone, when he felt a set of eyes on him. He puts his phone down and notices a kid staring at him, not in fear, just pure wide-eyed admiration.

‘You’re so pretty,’ you blurt out.

Angel freezes. His fluffy ears perk up, and he gasps dramatically, ‘Ohhhh, honey, say it again!’

You nod eagerly and approach him, ‘You’re the prettiest.’

Angel melts. He picks you up effortlessly with two of his arms, twirling you in the air, ‘finally! Someone in this dump with taste. Kid, you’re a breath of fresh air. C’mere, let's play a game while the adults bicker.’

He lets you climb on his back as he prances around the lobby like a model on the runway. At some point, he plops you down on the sofa and starts styling your hair with his many hands, ‘we gotta fix you up, sweetie! If you’re gonna stay here, you’ve gotta have some flair.’

Charlie and Vaggie watch, unsure whether or not to intervene. Meanwhile, Alastor watches with a smirk, ‘How adorable.’

[graciescott27]

thank youu! for responding to my comment so quickly I was just thinking like a sort of childhood friends but the reader becomes a famous actress and sae still a footballer something cute like fluff and maybe a bit of smut but honestly whatever you prefer cause I really love your work and would like to see more of sae but it’s no rush whenever you have the time and thank youu again!!

Ughhh I had so much fun writing this request! I almost never write Sae, so something’s might be out of character, but I hope that you’re happy with what I wrote!

just a flicker - s. itoshi

cw: childhood best friends! actor!reader! language, angst, fluff, possibly ooc, some brief making out at the end

wc: 1.8k

Growing up was never easy on anyone. Growing up alongside Sae Itoshi brought even more complications. He was never quite as creative as you. Not as academic. Never as polite or gentle. If you didn’t know him, Sae was harsh. Not intentionally rude, just blunt. It was difficult to get used to if you weren’t already close to him. It was just as much a curse as it was a blessing that you knew him.

When you were little, Sae was one of your only friends. You got along well with his little brother, and he got along well with your big sister. You lived nearby. You went to the same school. Sometimes your sister would have a soccer game before his or on a field nearby. It was almost guaranteed for you to get close to him. You both had finally found someone who was equally as passionate at such a young age. He knew that he wanted to play soccer. You knew that you wanted to act. And you were both exceptionally talented already. You were both considered prodigies by all of Japan. Prodigies tended to be best friends, right?

Best friends tend to be our first heartbreak, though.

When you were both thirteen, Sae broke the news to you that he was going to Spain. You were still processing it as you sat in the back seat of his parents’ car, driving to the airport with him and the rest of his family. You didn’t talk to him at all on the way there. When you got to the airport and dropped him off at security, you told him bye and he reassured you that he’d still text. Then that was it. You watched him go through the line, and he disappeared the moment he passed through.

You didn’t speak to him for four more years.

Despite both of your promises, the years ended up going by without so much as a single word from the other. You cut ties with Rin around the same time. Now, at eighteen years old, you were world famous. You had already starred in several productions and received even more role offers. You were finally where you had always wanted to be, and there was still something missing.

Finally, the dreaded day came where you had to go fly out to Madrid for onsite filming for your new rom-com movie. The entire plane ride over, you couldn’t stop thinking about Sae. Would you run into him? Madrid was a big city, sure, but you were supposed to be there the week of one of his biggest matches of the season. Surely you’d at least see a fan or two.

Apparently you had forgotten who the love interest in your movie was supposed to be. A professional soccer player. You’d be at the goddamn stadium.

The film crew had set up just down the road from the stadium. You were standing there on a break, trying not to die in the heat, talking to one of the crew members. That was when you saw him across the street leaving the stadium. He had his practice bag slung over his shoulder. Of course, with your horrible luck, he noticed you, too. And he just stared at you, unblinking.

“Hey, Mina…? I’m gonna head to my trailer really quick. I forgot a couple of my script pages, I think,” you told the girl you were talking to, never breaking eye contact with Sae. You took a few slow steps back, and then sprinted. When you looked over your shoulder back at the stadium, his bag was abandoned on the ground and he was no where in sight. You glanced back a couple of minutes later to see him running after you through the crowd of actors and crew members.

What the hell was his problem? Why was he following you like a crazy person? Thank god your trailer was nearby, because you knew you wouldn’t ever be able to outrun him. You reached the door just before he caught up to you, slamming it shut, locking it, and throwing yourself in front of it. God, you were out of breath. He was gone, though. You were safe.

The you heard the banging. “Open the door, Y/N.” His voice was relatively calm, but clearly frustrated in his own emotionally constipated way.

“No!” You yelled back at him. Your back was still pressed against the metal door.

“Why?” He scoffed, stopping his knocking.

“Because!”

“You’re the one who stopped texting me, you can’t be mad.”

“Yeah, that’s why I don’t want to see you!”

You could almost sense him freezing on the other side of the door. “Did you just start hating me the moment I was gone?”

You froze, too. “What? No, that’s not… that’s not what I meant, okay?”

“So you’re running from your own guilt?”

That comment made you nearly stop breathing. Somehow, after four years, Sae Itoshi of all people could read you. The only person who was worse with emotions was his brother. How could he pinpoint how you felt?

So you opened the door. And you talked to him. And you got out years of pent up frustration, and confusion, and guilt. You were the one who had abandoned him, after all. You decided that it wasn’t worth it to text him when you knew that he’d be in a completely different country from you forever. Why be friends with someone you could never see? Especially when you were thirteen and just starting to realize that you were in love with him?

You started talking to him again. He texted you every morning and every night and called you once a week. It was structured, and exact, and way too Sae Itoshi. Then eventually he was flying you out to Spain for weeks at a time when you didn’t have filming. After a couple of months, you two were going on dates without ever asking each other out. Then you were going to his soccer games and he was at your movie premiers. Then you were hugging and holding hands without putting a label on your relationship. And suddenly the entire world started to think you were dating Sae Itoshi.

You were starting to think so, too.

Right when you were about to give up again and leave him to figure his own shit out, you caught it. You were just sitting in the box at one of his matches — debating what you would say to him after the game — when he scored. It happened so fast that you could barely process what he did afterward, but you could just barely catch his hand wrapping around a chain he was wearing. You had bought him that.

You could still picture the exact moment you had given him that necklace, actually. It was just a stupid silver chain with a soccer ball pendant you had found when you were hanging out with him one day. You were twelve. Back then, any mention of soccer made you think of Sae, so you thought it would have been a cute gift. His birthday was coming up anyways.

When you handed it to him, all he said was, “You’re weird.” And he shoved it into his pocket.

You never expected him to still have it, though.

The night after the match, you had planned to stay at his place pretty late having a movie night. It was your idea. He went along with it because he didn’t care enough to argue with you. So, you met him outside of the locker room like usual. You had gotten special permission to be in the back area of the stadium by then.

He gave you a small nod of acknowledgment as he left the locker room. You two walked silently beside each other as you left the stadium; you didn’t dare to open your mouth until you reached his car.

“So,” you began the moment the doors had closed and he started the engine. You weren’t entirely sure where you were going with it. “That was a nice goal.”

“Thanks.”

“Cool that you guys won.”

“Yeah.”

And then it was silent again. It was always silent when you were with Sae.

“Were you… wearing a necklace during the game?” you promoted, trying to be subtle enough to not sound crazy.

“I always do,” he shrugged, his eyes completely focused on the road.

You nodded. “Where did you get it?”

He raised a brow in confusion. “You gave it to me.”

“Oh.”

Then you both went quiet again.

After just a few minutes, you had both settled next to each other on the couch in Sae’s living room. The only movie request he had made was one of your most popular ones. In that moment, you doubted you could stand to see your own face in some shitty romance.

It took forty minutes for Sae to look over at you. “Your face is all scrunched up.”

You blinked, meeting his eyes. “Is it?”

“Yes.”

“Didn’t realize it,” you shrugged, feigning indifference as you turned your attention back to the TV screen.

“You’re so clueless,” he scoffed, clearly still staring at you.

You huffed. “Okay, rude.”

“You’re seriously clueless.”

“Stop repeating yourself, idiot,” you threw a piece of popcorn at his face, trying not to grin as it got stuck in his hair.

He rolled his eyes. “You’re an actor. Shouldn’t you be able to pick up on cues without me having to directly tell you something?”

“What do you not want to tell me?”

“I’ve been in love with you since we were twelve and you’ve been too stupid to figure it out the entire time.”

Oh.

You froze completely, not even daring to glance at him. You wanted to run and hide, to bury yourself under forty pillows, to burrow away like an ostrich. That wasn’t what you were expecting. That wasn’t what you wanted. Was it?

No. It absolutely was.

In the blur of you nodding your head, telling him that you’ve felt the same way the entire time, and whatever he had said in response, he had paused the movie and pressed his lips to yours. You had expected Sae to be more rough, maybe a bit ruthless like how he played on the field. Maybe even apathetic like how he presented himself to everyone. But he wasn’t. He was eager. He was hungry.

He placed a hand on the small of your back, gently pulling you closer. His other hand slid from your cheek to the back of your head, deepening the kiss more than you were prepared for. When you recovered from your shock, you moved your hands into his hair. Even with the intensity, he still kept the pace slow. He was still careful. For the first time in four years, he was finally somewhere to could consider home.

@graciescott27

[starredblood]

NOWHERE GIRL MASTERLIST

genres: coming of age, slice of life, strangers to lovers, angst, comfort, fluff, slow burn | status: complete

PART ONE. desperate to find a place to stay, your former high school friend ji-yeong let’s you crash at her apartment for the week. but things get complicated when her roommate doesn’t seem too happy about your arrival.

PART TWO. time is ticking but sae-byeok seems to grow more irritated by your existence meanwhile you come face to face with the secret you’ve been holding onto.

PART THREE. sae-byeok gets a concerning call from her brother while you start to get paranoid of yesterdays events.

PART FOUR. after facing an intense altercation, it leads you to another one of sae-byeok’s interrogation.

PART FIVE. your late night talk with the stone face girl unexpectedly turns sour.

PART SIX. you confront your classmate, determined to make her ex leave you alone.

PART SEVEN. things start crumbling down.

PART EIGHT. you’ve gone off the grid. however, your short lived presence finds a way to haunt sae-byeok.

PART NINE. you reunite with the ones who helped you from the start, hoping for a fresh start.

PART TEN. just when you start to feel closer to Sae-byeok, she tries pushing you away after having doubts of her character.

PART ELEVEN. after countless attempts of trying to reach out to you, you finally decide it’s time to meet up with your parents which leads to a bitter resolution. and not wanting to be alone with this grief, you decide to join cheol and sae-byeok to forget.

PART TWELVE. when ji-yeong goes missing you and sae-byeok go on a fever dream goose chase.

PART THIRTEEN. in a weird turn of events, sae-byeok tries to comfort those around her.

PART FOURTEEN. restless and filled with conflicted emotions, you and sae-byeok take a midnight stroll.

PART FIFTEEN. for the last day of the semester, you have to become the bearer of bad news.

PART SIXTEEN. you and sae-byeok’s plan to sneak back into your apartment goes haywire, all in the midst of your conflicting feelings towards her.

PART SEVENTEEN. sae-byeok has been ignoring you for a couple of days and you have to find a way to confront her.

PART EIGHTEEN. before your ultimate departure, you spend your last moments with sae-byeok.

PART NINETEEN. you come back with an anxious ridden feeling that becomes worse as time goes by—all because of the stone faced girl.

PART TWENTY. when the truth unfolds, are you ready to face it?

[jetblack4realz]

you call this a date? - rip wheeler

summary - rip's the new kid on the ranch and you sure as hell love to tease him about it

word count - 1.7k

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

when rip showed up at the ranch you didn't think twice about him. just another stray boy john had picked up along the way somewhere.

you'd been working summers with the duttons since you were thirteen. all of your siblings had done it, your families were real good friends, and you were no exception.

well, except that you were the only girl.

the other wranglers adored you from the get-go and you'd become a staple part of the team over the years. you'd seen your fair share of young boys come in and out of the ranch. very few lasted past their sixteenth birthday.

except for rip.

you didn't know exactly when he'd turned eighteen, but you knew that he was your age. he'd always stayed quiet, just put his head down and worked, which you respected.

it was that and the way he looked at the animals that made you notice him. he cared for them like they were something reverent, something worth protecting.

and, yeah sure, he was cute. in a boyish brooding sort of way - like if he stopped to breathe for two seconds a raincloud would pop up behind him.

the older hands whispered things about him since no one really knew his story - words like "murder" and "abuse" and "hell of a life" tossed around along with his name.

but none of that scared you. not at all.

you loved teasing the hell out of him. and while he could take the other wranglers' jokes like a champ, he always seemed to get pretty flustered when you took to him.

you tossed a rag in his face as he washed tack, laughing lightly as he threw it back in the bucket with a small frown.

"i think you missed a spot there, cowboy," you told him, pointing at the leather as you walked up behind him. he knitted his brows, following your finger before you turned and flicked him in the forehead. you laughed. "got ya."

he rolled his eyes as you walked off, heading off to do whatever chore you'd been asked to do without him.

when you'd get paired together, you'd pass by him on your horse as you gathered cattle and call his way something joking like: "stop lookin' so serious! we've got scarecrows for that!"

he always huffed, just continuing on with his work.

the one that stuck with him the most was when you were both on fence duty in the middle of july. you both were sweating up a storm as you moved down the fence line, you resorting to stripping down to a tank top and tying your flannel around your waist instead. you poured some of your water bottle into your hand and splashed it on your face.

"geez, it's hot," you complained.

"yeah, it sure is," rip said with a sigh, standing from his crouched position to pull his shirt over his head and shove it in his saddle bag.

he was way more toned than you'd expected, and the beads of sweat covering his shoulders and running down his spine wasn't harsh on the eyes either.

you grinned, whistling loudly as you eyed him. "damn, wheeler! it really is hot - and i ain't talking about the weather no more."

he side-eyed you, but you could see the light pink flush rising to his cheeks - and that wasn't from the weather either.

"you done messing with me now?" he asked.

you shook your head, laughing as you offered him your water bottle. "not even close."

and just like that, a friendship started forming. well, something close to one. close enough that you started spending your very brief lunch breaks together and sharing more easy conversations during dinner or as you worked. close enough that you began to notice the small smiles you pulled from him, or the way his eyes lingered as you passed.

the pie thing started as another tease.

"you gonna keep hiding in the barn all night or are you finally gonna let me steal you away for an evening?" you asked, stepping into the stables with a small smile.

he looked up at you with wide eyes, mouth open as he looked for a response.

"you promised me pie, wheeler," you told him in a sing-songy tone, smile widening as you walked closer up to him.

he looked at the tack wall like it had something important to say. "i didn't say i had pie, i said i knew where to get pie."

you crossed your arms, raising a brow with a teasing grin. "you backing out on me, cowboy?"

"no. just didn't think you were serious," he admitted, jaw tightening slightly even as a flicker of amusement flashed behind his eyes.

"i'm always serious about dessert."

there was a long pause, like he was doing the math in his head before he set his rake to the side, and waved you after him.

you followed obediently, grinning excitedly as he flicked the lights off and walked to the back of the bunkhouse where his old ranch truck sat a bit of a distance from the rest of the guys'.

he pulled the door open and fished a takeout box from under the seat. he nodded towards the bed. "go on."

you climbed quickly into the bed, taking the box from him to let him hop in himself before you both sat up against the window, facing the vast expanse of mountains and the slowly emerging stars lined up above them behind the setting sun.

you opened the little box and grinned at the sight of gator's peach pie.

"damn, you stole from the chef. i guess you do have a rebellious side," you teased, and you saw that cute little blush rise to his cheeks. "now do you got forks or are we going full heathen?"

"heathen?" he echoed with a small laugh as he pulled two mismatched plastic forks from his jacket pocket. "that's what you think of me?"

you grinned as you took one from his hand. "i think you try real hard not to show how thoughtful you are."

he didn't say anything to that, only watching you for a few moments before turning to the pie. he gestured for you to take the first bite and so you did, smiling once the sweet cinnamony pastry melted in your mouth.

"oh, that's unfair. now you're setting expectations," you told him.

rip finally cracked a small. small, but there. "can't say i've ever cared much about expectations."

"you care about mine?" you asked, glancing sideways at him.

he didn't answer again, the question just hanging comfortably in the air between you both. he stabbed his fork into the pie, both of you picking at it as you slowly scooted closer together.

at some point you'd grabbed his hand and he'd been happy to lace his fingers with yours, eyes on the stars as your head fell against his shoulder.

"you ever done this before?" you asked quietly.

he snorted. "what - eat stolen pie and sit in the back of my truck past curfew with a girl?"

you smiled. "i meant something like a date."

he faltered, looking down at the half eaten pie.

"no," he answered. "not really my thing."

"why not?"

"i don't live the kind of life that leaves time for it. don't live the kind of life that leaves girls wanting me to make time for it," he said softly.

you hummed, squeezing his hand. "well i'm glad you did make time for it. you're doin' alright so far."

his lips quirked into a small sort of smile. "only you would call this a date."

"only you would think this isn't."

he looked over at you, brows knitted slightly as he met your eyes with an intensity you weren't prepared for. the wind whistled around you both, and he watched as it blew your front pieces across your cheek. he softened a bit when you smiled up at him, reaching his free hand out hesitantly to tuck the hairs behind your ear, pausing and letting his fingers brush lightly against your cheek.

"i don't know how to do this," he admitted roughly, eyes bouncing between yours to gauge your reaction. "i didn't grow up with much... tenderness."

"i think you're doing just fine, cowboy," you told him softly, grabbing his hand and pressing it more firmly against your cheek, leaning into him.

his eyes flicked to your lips and you were all too aware of it, leaning closer to him as he finally dipped down to press his lips to yours.

you reciprocated immediately, slightly surprised at the pull he gave you to get you to lean into him more.

you just figured it was his first kiss - evidently, it wasn't.

you let out out a breath when he pulled away, brows knitting as he looked away from you. "sorry."

"don't be," you said, kissing him again shortly and smiling through it. when you pulled back, he was smiling with you. "i liked it."

by the time you wandered back to the bunkhouse the sky was pitch black and the stars were coating it completely. you couldn't hear the wranglers yelling about some card game, which told you it was well past midnight - and way past your unofficial curfew.

rip held your hand tightly, using it to pull you back towards him just short of the porch.

"don't tell anyone about this, yeah?" he said, looking at you intently. "about the pie or anything else."

you smirked, squeezing his hand. "why? scared they'll think you're soft?"

his eyes were serious when they met yours and he gave you a simple shake of his head. "i ain't soft. but i got something to protect now."

he pressed a kiss to your forehead when he moved back towards the stairs, pulling you up after him as your smile softened and then grew again.

it lingered all the way to bed.

and so did the taste of peach pie on your lips.

[digitaldaydreamm]

After ur done with ‘helping out’ s parts could u do a headcanon on how rafe and reader became friends as kids and how he’s been w her during this whole time?

a glimpse into their past <3

rafe x childhood friend!reader

headcannons 3

masterlist

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°

★ You met Rafe when you were eight and he was nine, at some fancy country club event your parents dragged you to. You were hiding behind your mom’s chair, not interested in playing with the other kids, while Rafe was already causing chaos, throwing ice cubes at Topper and daring Kelce to climb onto the buffet table.

★ He spotted you sitting alone and, in typical Rafe fashion, marched right up to you. “Why are you just sitting there?” You shrugged, not used to kids being so forward. “Dunno.” That was enough for him—he grabbed your wrist and dragged you off, deciding you were going to be his new best friend whether you liked it or not.

★ By the time you were ten and eleven, you were practically attached at the hip. If there was a party, you were together. If there was trouble, Rafe was usually the cause, and you were usually the one sighing, “Rafe, we’re gonna get in trouble.” Not that he cared. You were his favorite person to cause trouble with.

★ He always had this weirdly protective streak. If some other kid tried to mess with you, Rafe would shove in front of you like a human shield, crossing his arms and sneering, “Say that again, I dare you.” Even back then, you were oblivious to how much he cared.

★ At twelve and thirteen, you started sleeping over at each other’s houses more. At first, your parents thought it was cute—just childhood best friends—but as you got older, his dad started raising an eyebrow. “You sure you two are just friends?” Ward would joke, and Rafe would roll his eyes. “She’s just a kid, Dad.” (Like he wasn’t only a year older than you.)

★ Teenage years hit, and suddenly things started shifting. You still saw Rafe as your best friend, the boy who stole your fries when you weren’t looking and let you win at board games. But Rafe? He saw you differently. You didn’t notice how his arm stayed around your shoulders longer, how he scowled when other guys talked to you, how he always found a way to be close to you in a room full of people.

★ At sixteen and seventeen, you were the only person who could calm Rafe down when he got too worked up. He’d storm off after a fight with his dad, fists clenched, breathing heavy, and you’d just place a hand on his arm. “Rafe, it’s okay.” And somehow, it was.

★ If you ever went on a date (which wasn’t often, because, well—Rafe scared off most guys before they even had the chance), he had to approve first. Not that he ever did. “That guy? Seriously? He looks like he cries when his mom yells at him.”

★ By eighteen and nineteen, he wasn’t even subtle about it anymore. He liked that people thought you were his. He didn’t correct them. He let the rumors swirl because, deep down, he wanted them to be true.

★ You, of course, were still oblivious. Still looking at him like he was just your Rafe. Still trusting him with everything. Still thinking his protectiveness was just friendship. And maybe it was.

★ Rafe doesn’t even pretend to let you out of his sight anymore. If you’re out, he’s with you. If you’re talking to someone, his arm is slung around your chair, fingers tapping idly against your shoulder, making sure they know exactly who he is to you—whether you acknowledge it or not.

★ You still leave things at his house like you always have—hoodies, chapstick, a spare pair of socks—but now? Now, Rafe keeps them. Your hoodie stays folded in his room, your chapstick never actually makes it back to you. “I don’t know where it went,” he lies, while it sits in his truck’s center console.

★ He still bickers with you like he always has, pushing your buttons just to see you roll your eyes and nudge him. But there’s a shift now, something heavier in the air when he leans in too close and murmurs, “Say that again?” just to watch you get flustered.

★ When you’re tired, you don’t even have to ask—Rafe just opens his arms, letting you curl into his side like you’ve done since you were kids. The difference? Now, he stares down at you, jaw tight, forcing himself to stay still when all he wants to do is grab you.

★ Everyone knows. Everyone. Topper, Kelce, hell, even Sarah. They all see the way Rafe is with you. “Just tell her,” they say. Rafe just clenches his jaw. Because he’s already told you—in every way but words.

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + masterlist

summary:

The Bloodline is a notorious crime family known all across the underground world. A family that’s been at the top of the food chain for generations. Currently led by the ruthless, stoic Roman Reigns, their success has never been better. But as Roman moves up the age ladder, his chief advisors are pushing him to set aside the one night stands in favor of settling down to ensure the continuation of the bloodline.

Enter: Solana Miller. Scarred both literally and figuratively from a lifetime of trauma, she finds herself embedded in a twisted game of politics when she’s forced into an arranged marriage with the tribal chief himself. A union built upon lies, Solana doesn’t expect her days to last long given Roman’s notorious temper.

Roman initially opposes the union, finding Solana to be entirely too fragile for his preference but eventually agrees under the guise that she will be unseen and unheard outside of her duties in giving him an heir.

What neither of these two realize is maybe there’s more to each other than meets the eye and that maybe the healing they’ve both been unconsciously looking for can be found in one another.

***click here to read the story faq's***

details:

status: completed

cw/tw: extreme violence, graphic language, murder, drugs, torture, abuse (of children and adults), childhood sexual assault, mental health struggles, mafia, crime, fluff, smut, and suggestive content

song inspo: 'looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

pairing: roman reigns x bipoc!oc

feat characters: jimmy uso, jey uso, solo sikoa, naomi, nia jax, paul heyman, rikishi, the rock, sasha banks, cody rhodes, brandi rhodes, seth rollins, becky lynch, bianca belair, jade cargill, sami zayn, kevin owens, brock lesnar and more. (see cast here)

chapters:

act one

chapter one + chapter two + chapter three + chapter four + chapter five + chapter six + chapter seven + chapter eight + chapter nine + chapter ten + chapter eleven + chapter twelve + chapter thirteen + chapter fourteen

act two

chapter fifteen + chapter sixteen + chapter seventeen + chapter eighteen + chapter nineteen + chapter twenty + chapter twenty-one + chapter twenty two + chapter twenty three + chapter twenty four + chapter twenty five

act three

chapter twenty six + chapter twenty seven + chapter twenty eight + chapter twenty nine + chapter thirty + chapter thirty one + chapter thirty two + chapter thirty three + chapter thirty four + chapter thirty five + chapter thirty six + chapter thirty seven + chapter thirty eight: part one + chapter thirty eight: part two

shorts:

dulce interrupting roman and solana during 'spicy' time

roman calling sam 'solana' while being intimate

jey's bad ass kids

au roman and solana first meeting

solana visits roman in his office

roman and solana halloween costume short

star-crossed lovers au short

roman and solana cooking short

roman and solana talk about dom short

solana asks roman to go out to dinner short

au roman being at the first ob-gyn appt

oneshots:

sick days

unpretty

fix you

sleepless nights

before the fall

family

gym time

nobody's business

made for me

little things

lunch dates

the story of our lives

prayer for the broken

dangerously in love

visuals:

roman's lock screens: part 1

roman's lock screens: part 2

roman's nsfw lock screens: part 3

roman and solana's lock screens

roman and solana's house

roso visuals

roso texts

roso texts 2

roso texts 3

roso texts 4

solana's instagram

solana's posts 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

extras:

⪨ click here to read asks regarding the story ⪩

⪨ click here to see current list of short suggestions ⪩

story inspired spotify playlist