#i am realizing as i type this that i rather would like to go back

[icewindandboringhorror]

Misc. photos from the past year or so ~

[galacticlamps]

no idea why but for some reason i feel like the next episode of dr who's gonna be one i'll especially want to be caught up for? again no clue why i feel that way since i'm currently behind - it's not even like i've seen the teaser for it yet or anything - but fwiw the last time i had that feeling was before fugitive of the judoon, and love or hate that episode i'd say i was right about needing to experience it in real time. i've never been one to care about spoilers much but i do very clearly remember making a point of staying off dr who related internet spaces until i got home from work the day that one dropped (and having any feelings that remind me of pre-pandemic 2020 is already a trip in itself wow) & i kinda think im about to wind up doing the same this weekend (since i already know im not gonna be able to watch it right away)

[aayakashii]

soooo I wrote this for the art god @devotion-disorder because

1- they're one of my favorite artists ever!!!!!!! And they're someone who portrays yanderes in such a 😙🤌 chef's kiss way that I can't help but admire

2- I am obsessed with their oc kuuya

but if you'd rather I delete it, just let me know!!

Warnings: NSFW, yandere behavior, unhealthy obsession !!! Minors DNI !!!

Part 2 of this fic here <3

The skin on the nape of your neck prickled, making you shiver at the strange sensation.

The steady gaze outside your window was so piercing and unmoving that it could be as sharp as needles nicking your skin.

Although, if you were to be fully honest, it felt more like a knife.

It would be just another night, if it wasn't for the fact that your co-worker lurked outside your house.

"Kuuya", you mouthed his name, just to feel how it moves against your lips, because you could never really say it during daytime without having him spiral headfirst into a meltdown.

Kuuya was a disaster.

He never talked to you.

You would sometimes catch him staring at you during work, which made him blush like an anime schoolgirl, but that was the extent of his interaction with you.

He was a regular employee, didn't stand out much, nor caused problems. He was just... there. Constantly looking exhausted, with his back hunched and in the verge of a mental breakdown.

And you were so attracted to that mess of a man.

Your friends would probably frown and sigh if they knew, but they were also pretty much aware of your type: sickly victorian-looking men, anemic, with extremely dark circles under their eyes, who probably sneeze a lot and shake like chihuahuas.

And, hey, that was Kuuya to a T. How could you not have a crush on him?

You soon realized, however, that he probably had a few screws loose.

It started slow, a few things going missing. First it was a pen, then some of your hair ties, then old post-it notes you had forgotten about, until their absence reminded you of their existence.

These things were inconsequential.

You wouldn't even notice their disappearance, if it wasnt for the fact that one day you saw Kuuya with a fluffy hair tie that looked way too similar to yours to be a coincidence. It even had the same little star charm that yours had.

And then you noticed the pens, carefully placed inside a cup near his computer.

And the erasers, the post-its, the pencils, all the other office appliances that you were pretty sure were yours.

But they weren't, right?

That was just your fertile imagination playing tricks on you.

Right?

One day, just to erase this silly idea from your head – I mean, you were probably just paranoid – you waited until you saw Kuuya take a break from his assignments and make his way to the bathroom.

You observed through the corner of your eyes how he stared at you while making his way to the other side of the office, anxiously shaking your leg as you mentally egged him to hurry up and go to the damn toilet.

As soon as you were sure he was inside and you were out his sight, you bolted towards his desk, earning a few pissed off glances from your other coworkers.

You had to work quickly though, since you didnt know how long he would take to come back. Looking over your shoulder constantly, you opened the drawers under his desk, searching for something and feeling silly all the while (what if you're the crazy paranoic one for real?), until your hands haphazardly touched some papers and you heard the sound of crinkles.

Looking over your shoulder one more time to make sure he wasn't around, you lifted the papers and mouthed a silent "oh." as you saw what was underneath them.

Dozens and dozens of candy wrappers, discarded notes and even more of those old post-its laid organized in what you could say was impeccable fashion, if it wasnt for the fact that it was all trash.

Your trash.

In the back, you saw some plastic bags with questionable contents, but your anxiety was in an all time high and you decided to just put things back were they were and close the drawer.

You had your confirmation. He WAS crazy and you were still paranoid, but at least you were right.

You made way back to your desk and sighed, sitting down.

Conflicted feelings pooled in your gut.

You knew all of that meant that he was indeed crazy and obsessed and potentially dangerous, but also... you couldn't really deny the excitement that made butterflies fly all around in your stomach and the giddy feeling that made your heart race with expectations – of what, you didn't know.

And as these feeling swarmed you, you failed to realize the pair of eyes that were locked tight onto your figure from the very start.

If Kuuya could properly express his feelings, he would be moaning and whining in pure despair.

They saw everything. They saw where he keeps all his treasures he had been collecting for the past months.

But why?! Why did they even think about looking for that? Has Kuuya been acting too obvious? But he made sure he wouldn't be too creepy! Well, at least not as creepy as he truly wanted to be. How was that happening all of a sudden?!

The taste of copper interrupted his mental breakdown and he looked down at his thumb, where tiny droplets of blood appeared after he anxiously chewed it.

"It's okay, it's fine" he kept repeating in his mind, like a mantra. He'd just need to see how you'd act around him after that.

If you stopped interacting with him (even if most of those interactions were just good mornings and good evenings coming from YOU), he would probably just... end it all for once. Or maybe kidnap you so you wouldn't run away. Whatever crossed his mind first.

With his heart beating loud on his chest, Kuuya walked back to his seat and forced himself to work, spreadsheets and numbers flashing on his mind, unnoticed.

All he could think was of your hands rummaging through his drawers.

Oh god, your hands touched his things.

Kuuya exhaled sharply, rubbing his thighs together to alleviate the sudden discomfort in his groin. What would he do if you never even looked at his direction again? Sure, you could even report him to the HR, but not being able to see you was a fate worse than being fired!

His mind tumbled, wandering through every worst scenario possible, and in his despair, he didn't notice it was already time to clock out.

"Good evening, Kuuya." You say as you pass by him, nodding your head, with a tight smile.

'Huh?'

Kuuya stares at nothing in front of him, until the fact that you talked to him registers in his mind.

'HUH?'

You talked to him?

Wait.

Did you really see what was in his drawers? Was he just hallucinating? No, there's no way he was. He saw how your colleagues stared at you when you ran to his table. They SAW you. Just like he did. So you saw everything. And you don't hate him? What the fuck. You don't find him disgusting? What? What the hell.

He didn't understand.

He couldn't understand.

He had to understand.

And so, he led himself towards your house, hiding in the bushes right in front of your bedroom window.

How lucky was he that you didn't live in an apartment building?

He was there to understand you better. Just for that. And it'd be just this time, he swore. Just to see what was up with you.

His breath was ragged and heavy and his cheeks burned red. He bit his bottom lip tightly to keep any moan from escaping as he palmed himself through his pants, while he watched the way you stripped yourself of your work clothes.

Quickly undoing his belt buckle and his pants, he let himself be completely overtaken by pure lust and began pumping his dick mercilessly as he was graced with just a little bit more of your skin, right in front of him.

He saw you sigh as you got rid of your pants and his eyes rolled back, imagining how you'd sound if he was the one taking your clothes off.

Oh, what would he give to be able to jump through your window and grab one of your dirty clothes and get drunk on your scent...

The thought made him buck his hips forward clumsily, and he gritted his teeth, hard.

Well, fuck.

He panted, while he observed the way his cum dripped from the leaves of the bush, and as coherent thoughts started flowing back to his mind, he suddenly hoped he wasn't moving too much to catch your attention.

You hadn't even looked his way, so he was safe, right?

Right?

You rubbed your thighs together as you kept your back turned to the window. The windowpane was open, in order to allow the wind to flow through your bedroom, and due to this little fact, you could hear a faint sound coming from the plants right in front of your window.

A quiet, almost indiscernible (if you weren't paying close attention) plap plap plap sound.

You bit your lip to keep your grin from spreading through your lips.

The dumbass was masturbating! Right there! Right in front of your room!

You sighed, feeling the heat pool in between your legs, but controlled your instinct to pull him out from wherever he was and fuck him silly in your bedroom.

You desired him so fucking much. You thrived in his attention, like a sunflower leaning towards rays of light.

The thing is: while you loved his obsession, you were also deathly afraid that he would lose interest in you as soon as he found out how much you also wanted him.

Much like a cat who discards a prey. Except this cat was wet, sad, pathetic and still, you were ridiculously eager to keep playing dead so he would put his grimy, sticky little paws on you just a little bit more.

How would Kuuya feel, you wondered, if he knew you were as obsessed with him as much as he was with you?

[buckyalpine]

I love Bucky loving his body. I love Bucky loved by the team. I love Bucky having his happy ending with a family. Imagine Bucky lounging around the sofa with his little baby girl tucked in his arm, her sweet face covered in frosting after smothering half of her cupcake onto her cheeks. The icing is bright red just like Tony's suit and it's his birthday party afterall, so everything is in full swing. Most of the cupcake is squished between her fingers, very little actually making it into her mouth but Bucky doesn't mind. He chuckles, watching her with heart eyes as she happily smears it onto his crisp white shirt, babbling and cooing, now sucking her thumb.

He is absolutely unbothered by this, all he sees is his happy little baby with her cheeky smile licking up all the frosting just like her mama. While Bucky couldn't care less about his shirt, a few others certainly did.

"Better get dunk that shirt into a bucket of tide pens Barnes" Clint snorted.

"Actually the quicker you get it off, the less likely it is to stain. Take it off now" Tony's voice went from fatherly advice to a seductive growl making Bucky's face twist in amusement, pink starting to color his cheeks.

"Yeah, give the little munchkin to y/n and take it off. Cause of the stain" Nat agreed, cocking an eyebrow. You giggled watching the scene unfold before you, your husband growing bashfully shy.

"Can't hurt punk" Steve shrugged and Bucky's eyes nearly popped out of his head until he realized his best friend had been nursing a rather large glass of Asgardian mead. Tipsy Steve was always a little bit of a pervert...

"I-

"For the stain"

"I think you just want me to take my shirt off" Bucky huffed while you grinned, giving his cheek a peck before taking your little princess in your arms.

"Can't blame them handsome, c'mon, show em' how lucky I am" you whisper and that sells it. Couldn't hurt and since they were all asking...

"Just take it off!" Nat howled with a wink, a bunch of whistles when Bucky sighed, indulging the team a little. He unbuttons his shirt and hands it off to a genuinely concerned Sam who would normally make sure the shirt got sent to the cleaners but this is too good so he throws it into a bucket of cold water and is back within seconds.

"Good God"

"Jesus"

"You look fuckin' good terminator"

"Alright, alright" Bucky holds his hands up, unable to stop the way his ears are bright red, shaking his head when you blow him a kiss making him blush more.

"Body shots!"

"What?"

"Yes"

Tony's eyes glimmer with excitement, and Bucky snorts, loving the way you egg him on, his daughter also squealing with excitement.

"Go on Sarge, y'know you look good"

He lies down on the bar table, surrounded by just the team, abs beautifully flexed as Nat pours a generous amount of some type of alcohol right on his belly button.

"When else will we get this lucky" She says with a playful smirk while Steve cracks his knuckles.

"Why are you cracking your knuckles, what the hell do you plan on-

"ME FIRST" He doesn't give anyone a chance, face planting himself into Bucky's tummy, his lips sealed, drinking every bit of the burning liquor with a satisfied hum.

"How much has he had to drink"

"Who cares, me next"

"I think you've licked enough of my husband"

"You get him all the time, don't be greedy"

"That cute little chubby ball of frosting and giggles is enough evidence you get him every which way, besides isn't there another one cooking, y'can't have any now git"

"Blink twice if you need help"

"Bro looks like an angel"

"Why aren't you blinking"

"Crafted by the heavens"

"You like this, don't you"

Bucky can't help but chuckle, surrounded by idiots. Drunk idiots. His wife. His baby girl. Another little one on the way. All who love him. Would protect him. Life was good.

[girlgenius1111]

hallmarks of sisterhood

putellas!reader. r mediates a fight between her sisters. they don't realize they're tearing her apart in the process. at least, not until they ruin an important night for her. can they make it up to her? fluff & angst.

-------

Being significantly younger than your sisters, you were the true baby of the family, and were treated as such. You were already a pretty sensitive person, and the overprotective tendencies of the entire family only increased this. You were quite different from both your sisters. Alba was an extrovert, always talking, always laughing, never thinking too hard about anything. Alexia was quieter in public, but always loud at home in an attempt to match Alba’s energy. The competitive gene only seemed to skip you, and you hated conflict. Any type of it. You didn’t like yelling, you didn’t like arguments, and you couldn’t stand when people were mad at you. 

It made sense then, that you’d always been the mitigator between your sisters. They were always fighting growing up, and it took a very small you to break up the fights that the teenage versions of them would get into, often shoving your small body in between theirs and singing a song so loudly they had no choice but to stop arguing. If the singing didn’t work, then you’d cry, and that always worked. 

As you got older, your role changed slightly. You were still the mitigator, but more because you were logical and smart and both of them could normally trust you to be objective. You didn’t really enjoy it, but you hated it more when they weren’t speaking to each other, so you did what you could to resolve their fights easily. 

All of this considered, you were not surprised to catch yourself in an argument between them yet again. This one wasn’t super similar to the others, though, in that it was much more emotionally charged. Both Alexia and Alba seemed angrier at each other than normal, and you didn’t know why. Still, you tried to fix it, as best you could. 

-------

“I cannot believe you, Alba.” Alexia sighed, shaking her head at her other sister. 

“Don’t try to guilt trip me, Ale, this isn’t my fault. I told you before there was a chance I’d have to go to this conference.” Alba shot back.

“You don’t have to go, you are choosing to go. So you can hook up with that coworker you're seeing.” 

Alba flushed red with anger. 

“Let’s calm down, guys,” you began, shifting uncomfortably in your seat in the corner of the sectional. Neither girl paid you any mind. 

“I am going for work, Alexia, I wouldn’t sleep with anyone at a work conference.”

“Oh, yes of course, you’re so above that. You are notorious for not hooking up with people in inappropriate situations Alba, how could I forget. It was only 4 of my teammates you slept with? And how many of my other friends?” 

“You are such a-”

“Stop.” You cut in. “Alexia, that was mean. Alba, she’s just disappointed because she was looking forward to spending time with everyone.” You cut in, trying to cool the rising temperature of the room. 

“No, I am disappointed because we made a commitment to do this for Mami and now she’s backing out. Like always.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Alba scoffed. 

“The last trip to Ibiza. Mother’s day last year. My 25th birthday,” Alexia began to list, counting the events off on her fingers rather condescending. 

“Guys, please calm down.” You attempted. 

“Will you ever get over me missing your 25th birthday? Or are you going to have it engraved on your tombstone? ‘My sister missed my birthday once and I never shut up about it.’” Alba yelled, getting to her feet and walking closer to where Alexia was sitting at the kitchen counter. 

When Alexia rose to meet her, you stood nervously, too, moving a bit closer. “Why don’t we all stay seated?” You tried. 

Both of them continued to ignore you, as if you weren’t even there. “That is not the point, Alba.” 

“No, Ale, the point is that only your career is important. Everyone has to drop everything for football, but what I do doesn’t matter, and I have to bend over backwards to make things work with your insane schedule. The world doesn’t revolve around you, Alexia.”

“Oh my god, Alba. You are such a bitch.” Alexia sighed, rolling her eyes in a way she knew would make the younger girl furious.  

“You are the bitch, Alexia. A selfish, bossy, mean bitch,” Alba yelled, crossing her arms and taking a step closer to the older girl. 

“Alba, I swear to god,” Alexia threw back, the volume of her voice making you flinch. You stepped in between them, forcing them to both back up a bit. 

“Please stop shouting.” You pleaded, looking between them. Both of them turned to you, annoyed.

“Go somewhere else if it’s bothering you, pequeña! Adults argue. Grow up.” Alexia yelled, sending a glare your way. You stopped back, blinking away tears, looking incredibly hurt. Alexia sighed. “Sorry, nena, I didn’t mean-” 

It was too late, though, you were pushing past her towards the door of her house. “No, whatever. I’ll go. Solve your argument by yourselves for once.” You snapped. 

“Nice job, Ale, you made the el bebe cry.” Alba said mockingly. 

“Shut your mouth, Alba. Pequeña, come back,” Alexia called, but the door was already slamming shut behind you. 

You wiped at your eyes furiously, getting into your car. You’d always hated how sensitive you were, how anyone raising their voice at you made you cry. You couldn’t argue, couldn’t disagree without dissolving into tears. Normally, angry tears. You’d always been like this, and your sisters often made fun of it, but were aware of the fact that you hated yelling, and tried to avoid doing so. Even when they were fighting with each other. Today got too out of control, though, both of them taking this specific issue very seriously. 

They’d have to figure it out themselves, this time. You were done with this. They knew how you felt about conflict, and yet they always put you in the middle. It was exhausting and hurtful being caught in between them. They were adults, they could solve this argument. 

You and Eli didn’t live far from Alexia, and you reached home before you were really ready to. You needed to erase all evidence of your tears from your face before heading inside, because Eli could not know about this. You and your sisters did not tell on each other, for one thing. For another, there was a possibility the trip in question could be rescheduled and you didn’t want to ruin the surprise. 

You checked your face in the mirror, took a deep breath, denied Alexia’s phone call, and headed inside, prepared to pretend that nothing was wrong. 

------

You got past your mother with very few questions asked, as she was distracted reading over Alexia’s new Nike contracts. Your sister still had Eli read all her contracts, a habit you and Alba teased her about often. 

Eli did come knocking, though, only a few hours later, while you were in your room getting some homework done. “Nena?” She called from the hallway, not hearing a response to her knock. 

Still, you didn’t say anything, so she pushed the door open, only to find you asleep at your desk, your head resting on a pile of photographs, your computer opened up to photoshop. A black and white photo of your sister at training was pulled up, and Eli quickly averted her eyes, knowing very well she wasn’t supposed to see this particular assignment until you were done.

“Mija,” Eli said, covering her eyes as she heard you stir. “Go to bed, it’s late, and you are exhausted.” 

“Do not look, Mami!” You cried, sitting up completely and quickly flipping everything over and shutting your computer. 

“I’m not!” Eli replied, laughing at how secretive you were about these photos. 

“Okay, everything is away.” You said, standing to give your mother a hug before getting into bed. She squeezed you tight, as she always did, kissing your cheek before letting go. 

“Goodnight,” she said, giving you a kind smile. 

“Goodnight mami,” you replied, knowing she was smiling because she knew you were about to get back on your computer as soon as she left the room. 

“Oh, do you know why your sister’s are fighting? I texted the groupchat with them, and they both replied to me separately.” Eli asked with an eye roll, quite used to your sisters’ antics. 

“Something dumb, probably.” You said with an unconvincing laugh. Your mother gave you a weird look, like she didn't believe you, but didn’t push it. 

As soon as she was out of the room, you were, in fact, back on your computer, finishing up the final touches on a photo of Alexia. You were really too excited to be preoccupied with your sisters at the moment. You were in school studying photography, and after a recent exhibition at your school, a gallery in Barcelona had reached out and asked you to shoot a series for them to display. They’d given you full creative control, which was an insane amount of trust to put into a 20 year old, and you were determined not to mess it up. 

If that meant staying up late making sure every photo was perfect in the next couple days, so be it. You were proud of this work, and that wasn’t really a common feeling for you. You’d grown up in the shadow of your two sisters. Alexia was the best female footballer in the world, and Alba was… Alba. Everyone loved her. Nothing you ever did seemed to really make anyone pay attention, except for your Mami. Eli had always been careful to celebrate your and Alba’s accomplishments, like she celebrated Alexia’s, even if they weren’t of the same magnitude. Your sisters were a bit better than the rest of your family and friends, paying attention to what you did, but it always felt a bit like your mother was making them do so. 

This was your chance to do something impressive of your own. Something that everyone could understand, everyone could be impressed by. It was an opportunity you were not about to waste. You didn’t realize the potential that other people had, though, to ruin it for you. 

------

The next few days were busy. When you weren’t working on your photos, making sure they were perfectly edited and printed properly, you were worrying about what people would think about them. Or you were trying to pick the perfect outfit for Saturday evening, the opening of the gallery. There wasn’t a ton of time for you to respond to Alexia’s repetitive apologies, or to Alba’s pleading for you to be on her side. It was annoying, really, that during such an important and stressful week, they couldn’t leave you out of their argument. 

You finally had enough on Friday, pulling up the groupchat with both of them in it, and sending a rather harsh message. It wasn’t like you to be harsh and snap at them, and you were hoping they would get the message that they’d upset you, and you wanted to be left out of this. 

If one of you texts me one more time about this idiotic fight, I am going to tell Mami that it was you two who dented her car, not the neighbor backing into it. I am so tired of being pulled into the middle of this. Both of you apologize to each other for being mean, and get over it. 

You hoped that would be the end of it. When your phone buzzed a few minutes later, though, you knew that had been a naive hope. 

Alexia had responded first. 

It should not be hard to pick a side when I am right, nena.

Alba responded after that. 

You always let Alexia get away with things you’d yell at me about. You can both apologize to me when you are ready.

You weren’t really sure how Alba had decided that you’d sided with Alexia, but you certainly were not going to be apologizing to her anytime soon. You left them both on read, figuring they’d make up before the gallery opening tomorrow night.

-------

You were up pretty much the entire night before the gallery. This time, not because anything needed to get done, but because you were nervous. You were thinking about everything that could possibly go wrong. By the time morning rolled around, you slept for maybe a couple hours, and created a decisive list of every bad thing that could happen today. 

You actually hadn’t thought of everything, but you wouldn’t know that until later. 

You’d passed out just as the sun had started to rise, and Eli came in to wake you up only a few hours later. 

“Nena, despierta,” she said softly, setting down a mug of coffee on your nightstand and shaking your shoulder. 

You bolted upright in bed, and looked around frantically, startling your mother. “Am I late?!” You gasped, moving to get out of your bed as fast as possible. 

“No, no, you aren’t late. It is only 11. Relax, mija, everything is okay.” Eli soothed, gently pushing you back down onto the bed. 

You let out a relieved sigh, rubbing at your face with your hands. “Sorry.” 

“Did you sleep at all?” Eli asked with a disapproving look. 

“Not much. I tried, I swear, I just couldn’t turn my brain off.” 

Your mother patted your cheek reassuringly. “You’re almost done, nena. It’s all going to go perfectly.” 

You nodded, trying to believe her words. You just had this weird, nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong. There wasn’t time to focus  on this feeling, though, no matter how much you wanted to. There was simply too much to be done. Accepting the hug your mother offered, you got up, ready to prepare yourself for the long day ahead.

-------

You didn’t really think anything of it when you didn’t see either of your sisters right away. You were busy greeting other people, family and friends. Some of Alexia’s teammates had made it, and you spent some time taking in the awestruck expression on Mapi’s face when she saw the singular photo of her included. 

That was the best part of the whole thing, you decided. Getting to see everyone’s reactions to seeing themselves up on the wall. 

The theme was people you loved, in their happy place. The project was joyful and fun, radiating happiness. Looking at the photos made you smile, and you were glad to see that everyone seemed to have the same reaction as they took their time looking at each image. 

You had Mapi giggling at something Ingrid had said, a candid taken after a Barça game. Ingrid was smiling back at her, like making her girlfriend laugh was the only thing she wanted to do for the rest of her life. 

You had your Mami, sitting in the stands of one of Alexia’s games, looking on with pride all over her face. You had her pinching Alba’s cheek, a fond smile on her face as your sister said something that was, no doubt, ridiculous. 

You had your aunts and your uncles around the dinner table, all laughing hysterically. 

You had your friends at the beach, all lounging and staring out into the ocean, looking peaceful. 

You had your best friend sitting in the driver's seat of her car, singing along passionately to her favorite song. 

More than anyone else, though, you had your sisters. 

Alexia preparing to take a penalty, determined. Celebrating with her teammates after a goal. Cheekily blowing a kiss to Olga in the stands. Smiling proudly at Vicki after an impressive goal. Proudly wearing the captain’s armband in front of a completely sold out stadium. Leaned against Olga on the couch after a movie night, out cold. She was completely peaceful, with Olga looking down at her adoringly. 

You had Alba at the school where she taught. Candids of her face, when one of her students got the answer right, or made her laugh. With her dog, holding him up at the aquarium, eye level with one of the dolphins. You had her watching Alexia play, too, a grin on her face that you were sure she was unaware of. Your favorite of Alba was a photo you’d taken in your Mami’s kitchen, while she’d been baking. Alba was sneaking a taste of the cake batter, and you’d captured her mid-wink, giving the camera a smile while Eli’s back was turned to her. 

They hadn’t seen any of these photos; you’d almost gone crazy not showing them, and not giving in to them when they begged to see.

 You’d finally managed to break away from a crowd of your friends, having a moment to yourself, when you realized that you still hadn’t seen your sisters yet. Ale’s teammates were here. Some of Alba’s friends were here. The whole family was here. You checked your watch, a frown on your face, seeing that they were both already over a half hour late, which was unlike both of them. It was only when you saw Olga looking up at one of the photos she was pictured in, all by herself, that you really got a sinking feeling in your stomach. She was talking to Irene when you walked over and interrupted, gently pulling Olga away from the conversation. 

“Where is Ale? Is she coming late?” You asked, confused by the sad look on Olga’s face. 

“No, nena, I’m sorry. She didn’t want to see Alba, so she decided not to come. I tried to convince her to, but she didn’t listen.” Olga said delicately. You looked like you’d been hit across the face, honestly, and Olga wanted nothing more than to march home and drag Alexia over here, but she knew better to try to convince the blonde to do something she had decided she wouldn’t. “She said she texted you?” 

You pulled your phone out, taking a deep breath when you saw almost identical texts from both of your sisters. 

Can’t make it tonight. I’ll come see it another time. Good luck! 

Sorry, hermanita, I can’t come tonight. Love you.

You had been so excited for them to see their pictures. There was a little note up on the wall, too, a statement thanking everyone for coming. In it, you mentioned being excited to allow your sisters to finally see the photos, as they’d been begging to for a while now. And they hadn’t come. 

A wave of embarrassment washed over you, your cheeks flushing red. You were angry, too, but you blinked your tears back, looking up at Olga and trying to look more put together than you felt. 

“No Alba either.” You said, your voice cracking slightly. 

“Oh, nena, I am so sorry.” Olga whispered, pulling you into a tight hug. It was too soft, and too comforting. You pulled away rapidly, shaking your head. 

“It’s fine. I don’t care.” You said, cutting the brunette off before she could say anything else. “I have to go talk to someone, thank you for coming, Olga.” 

You rushed away from your sister’s girlfriend, focusing on taking deep breaths. You couldn’t be sad, not right now. So many people had come here to celebrate you and your work, and you weren’t going to ruin it. You could be upset later. It was almost excruciating, pretending that you weren’t upset that your sisters hadn't come, but you managed it. You kept up a pretty good façade for the rest of the evening, even when you saw Olga speaking in hushed voices to Irene and Mapi, even when everyone kept asking where Ale and Alba were. You held it together. Because you, unlike them, could pretend that nothing was wrong for the sake of others. 

-------

Your mother knew you better than anyone. You should have been thrilled, ecstatic. Everything had gone so well. Your photos had been a hit, the owners of the gallery had been thrilled. She realized neither of her other daughters had shown up, but she assumed they had talked that through with you. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with you, but when you declined going out with some of your friends as the night came to an end, Eli knew something wasn’t right. 

She had every intention of letting you come to her, but you weren’t talking. As everyone began to file out of the gallery, saying their final goodbyes, Eli overheard you tell your friends you were going to go home because you were tired. You didn't say a single word to her aside from telling her that you’d see her at home, before you practically fled the building, heading for your car. She didn’t couldn’t imagine what was wrong, never expecting her daughters to have done what they did. Eli didn’t even think of them being a possible reason as to why you were upset. Mapi pulled her aside, though, before she could go after you, an infuriated look on her face. 

“Do you know what your daughters have done?” She asked quietly. 

Eli frowned. “No. What have they done?” 

Mapi shook her head. “They both bailed on tonight over text to pequeña. They are in some stupid fight that they’ve put her in the middle of, and they didn’t want to see each other, so they didn’t come.” 

Suddenly, Eli was quite furious at her eldest daughters. There would be hell to pay, she’d make sure of it. How could they be so selfish, and ruin your night like this? You’d been almost beside yourself for weeks about this night, and she knew the people you wanted to impress most were your sisters. And they hadn’t come. Before she yelled at them, though, she needed to go home to you, because she was very sure that you weren’t okay. Your odd behavior made sense, now, and Eli’s heart ached at the thought of you driving all by yourself while you were so upset. 

“I will deal with them.” Eli said quietly. “Thank you for telling me, María, and for coming. It meant a lot to her.” 

Mapi smiled sympathetically. “Of course. Let me know if you need help kicking some Putellas ass.” 

Eli chuckled. “I will.” 

She set off to her car after that, ignoring Alexia’s numerous phone calls. Likely, Olga had arrived home and laid into her for not coming, and Alexia was looking to be let off the hook from her Mami that she hadn’t messed up that badly. Eli wouldn’t be doing that. 

-------

You didn’t make it far into the house. In your new dress, one that was reminiscent of the dress Alexia had worn to win her first balon d’or, you’d collapsed onto the couch, harsh sobs ripping their way out of your chest. You cried until your makeup ran and your chest hurt. Until your Mami arrived home, rushing through the door, her heart breaking when she saw the state you were in. Eli was by your side instantly, pulling you into her arms. It was rare that a hug from your mother didn’t make you feel better, but this was the case today. You weren’t really sure that anything would help, but you still buried yourself into your Mami’s arms, wishing more than anything that she could fix this for you. 

“They didn’t come, Mami,” you sobbed. 

“I know, mija, I am so sorry.” 

“Am I not more important than their stupid fight?” You asked, looking up at your mother with a devastated expression on your face. “I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.” 

Eli felt anger fill her at a level she’d never quite felt before. “I am proud of you, cariño, so proud of you. It’s all going to be okay, I promise. Everything is going to be fine.” She soothed, running her hand through your hair, shushing you softly. Her fury would have to wait, until you stopped crying. Eli would always put you first when you needed it, even if your sisters didn’t. 

-------

It was late by the time you’d stopped crying and headed up to bed. With a soft goodnight to your Mami, you’d slumped upstairs, barely changing into your pajamas before you collapsed into your bed, absolutely exhausted. Being disappointed was tiring, apparently. And you were more disappointed than you’d ever been in your life. 

Downstairs, Eli waited until she heard your door shut before she pulled her phone out, returning one of the 15 missed calls from her eldest daughter. Alexia picked up quickly, her voice dripping with guilt.

“Mami, I-”

“No. Do not try to explain yourself. You and Alba have done a terrible thing, Alexia. I am not sure how you will make it up to your sister, but you will. You will figure out how to fix it, you will apologize, you will mean it.” 

“Sí, Mami.” Alexia said, her voice small like when she used to get scolded for kicking the football in the house or holding the tv remote high out of her sisters’ reach. 

“I am so disappointed, Alexia. In you and Alba both.”

“I know, Mami.” Alexia replied, blinking hard to fight off her tears. “I’ll fix it, Al and I will fix it.” 

“You will. Goodnight, Alexia. I love you.” Eli was furious, but she’d always say it, always make sure her daughters knew how loved they were. 

“I love you too Mami,” the blonde choked out, feeling worse about this than she’d ever felt about anything in her entire life. 

Eli called Alba next, who was significantly more clueless about the situation. Neither had known the other wasn’t going, but it was beyond your mother how either of her daughters could have underestimated how important to you this night was. Alba was in tears, like Alexia, by the end of the call, also promising her mother she’d fix it. 

Eli knew the level of guilt Alexia and Alba must have been feeling at the moment, considering how protective they were of you. They never wanted you to be hurt, but you were. And they were the reason why. As she checked on you, ensuring you were asleep, she knew that her older daughters would go to the ends of the earth to make this up to you. 

--------

Alba was sitting on her couch, willing herself to be the bigger person and pick up the phone to call Alexia, when she heard a knock at the door. The brunette knew who was there before she pulled it open, not flinching when her older sister was standing on her front porch. 

Alexia had a drink carrier in one hand, and two bags in the other, giving Alba an unreadable look. “Can I come in?” 

Alba nodded, stepping aside to let her sister in. The blonde headed for the living room, setting the coffees down, and grabbing hers out of the holder. Alba grabbed the other, noting that it was her favorite coffee, and her favorite breakfast pastry, from her favorite bakery. A bakery Alexia didn’t particularly like, but had clearly stopped at just for Alba. 

It was a peace offering. One that Alba took, grabbing the coffee and the pastry, sitting on the couch next to her sister in a much less tense silence. They made up in the way only sister’s could, with no words necessary for either of them to know that the other was sorry for what had been said. 

“We fucked up.” Alexia said after a minute, glancing at her sister. 

“We really did.” Alba replied. 

“We have to fix it.” Alexia declared. 

“We really do.” Alba agreed. 

“Are you going to keep agreeing with me, or are you going to come up with a solution here?” 

“As the one who started the fight that led to us letting our sister down, I think it should be you who solves the problem, Alexia.” Alba retorted, a smirk on her face. 

Her sister shook her head, shoving the brunette’s shoulder lightly. “You are supposed to be the smart one, hermana. Get thinking.” 

“New car?” 

“New house?”

“Can we buy her a country?”

They broke into laughter, the tension completely gone from the room, before they really got brainstorming. They were a good team when they weren’t fighting, and it wasn’t long before they’d come up with something that they hoped would make up for their horrible behavior. 

-------

The minute you saw Alexia’s car pull into the driveway from your spot on the couch, you were standing up, prepared to flee the room. You’d known this would happen at some point today, but you weren’t ready to see them. You felt so humiliated and so neglected, you were sure that seeing them would have you in tears, and you didn’t really want to show that emotion in front of them. Not now, not when they were the reason you were so upset. 

You knew how important family was to your mother, though, and you knew that if she told you to stay and talk to them, you would. Looking at her cautiously, you took in the wary expression on her face. 

“Do you want to hear them out, mija?” Eli asked gently. 

“No. I don’t want to see them right now. Please don’t make me.” You begged. 

“I won’t make you do anything. Go upstairs, I’ll tell you when they’re gone.” Eli sighed, and with her permission, you practically sprinted up the stairs to your room, closing and locking the door behind you. 

Your older sisters walked through the doors to the house like they were afraid of what awaited them inside, and it seems that they should have been. Eli stood from her chair, walking over to them, looking unimpressed at the large present in Alexia’s hands. 

“Hola Mami,” Alba greeted softly. They both wanted to make this up to you, of course, but they also hated when their mother was mad at them. 

“I do not think that buying her a present is going to fix this.” Eli said pointedly. Alexia and Alba exchanged nervous glances, relaxing slightly when Eli allowed them further into the house. “What is it?” 

“It’s the new camera. The brand new canon model that she wanted, with all the extra lenses and storage and stuff.” Alexia said, feeling less and less confident about how she and Alba had chosen to go about this. 

“And you think that is enough?” Eli asked bluntly. 

“It’s a start.” Alba said, a bit defensively. “We know we messed up, Mami, and we missed the opening night but we can go see it today. Are you not being a little dramatic about this?” 

Alexia shot her younger sister a look, knowing exactly how hurt you were, because Olga had returned home from the gallery and told her. 

“You did not see her last night. When she realized you weren’t coming? She completely shut down. She talked to everyone she needed to, but I did not see her smile the rest of the night. She rushed out of the building just as the evening ended, and by the time I got home, she was sitting on the couch, sobbing. It was supposed to be her night, and you ruined it.” Eli snapped. 

Alexia and Alba both looked appropriately ashamed, their heads dropping, gazes pointed at the floor in an almost identical fashion. They felt guilty, obviously, but Eli wasn’t quite sure they understood that it wasn’t just about them missing your event. It was so much more than that. 

“She asked me why she is not more important to both of you than an argument. I do not want to spoil the gallery, but I do not think you understand how embarrassing it was for her to have countless photos of you two up on the wall, when you did not even come.” 

Both her daughters’ heads snapped up at this. “Of us?” Alba asked. “The project was of us?” 

“It was about her loved ones. You two were featured more than anyone else. She was so excited to see your reactions to the photos.” Eli continued, only making them feel worse. 

“Please, Mami, I cannot hear anymore.” Alexia said softly, her heart aching at the thought of how upset you must be at the moment. Every detail that her mother added made it worse. She wasn’t sure she’d ever done anything like this to you before, and the thought that you might not forgive her was filling her with anxiety. 

“No, you will hear all of it.” Eli said, shaking her head. “She said to me, ‘I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.’” 

“We are proud of her, she has to know that.” Alba cut in desperately. Her mother just shook her head. 

“She does not. Nothing she ever does feels very important to either of you, because it is always something you have done before. This was something that was her own, and she just wanted to share it with you. Everything your sister does is so that you two will be proud of her, and pay attention to her.” 

At this, Alexia stood up from the couch, walking over to the window and putting her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with silent cries, and neither her mother or her sister were very surprised at the emotional outburst. Alexia was always emotional when it came to you; she remembered the day you’d been born, every milestone in your life. You were your very tough sister’s soft spot. 

“Do you think we can fix it?” Alba asked quietly, terrified of her mother’s answer. 

With a deep sigh, Eli nodded her head. Alexia turned around hopefully, hanging on to Eli’s every word. “Your baby sister has always been more forgiving than both of you. She is hurt, but she will forgive you. She loves you both too much not to.” 

Every word Eli said felt like a bullet to the chest to both of your sisters, something your mother was well aware of. She wasn’t going to sugar coat this. It was silent in the room for several minutes, every member of the family lost in thought. Alexia looked furious with herself, Alba looked like she was close to tears, and Eli just looked disappointed. She’d always trusted your sisters to take care of you when she couldn’t, but she wasn’t so sure she had that confidence in them anymore. 

“I have an idea.” Alexia said finally, looking between her mother and her sister hesitantly. They both agreed to what she proposed, though, and it wasn’t long before Eli had pulled out some paper and pens for her daughters. They both sat on the floor around the coffee table and got writing. It was reminiscent of when they’d do their homework in the same spot years ago, sitting on the floor so they could play with you while they finished their assignments. 

Now, though, you were painfully absent from the scene in front of your mother, and Eli could only hope that this would work. 

-------

Alexia and Alba agreed that only one of them would go upstairs, give you the two pieces of paper, and let you be for the evening. Alexia was desperate to see you, while Alba wasn’t sure she could do so without crying, and she didn’t particularly want to put that on you at the moment. You hated seeing your sisters upset, and she didn’t want to inadvertently guilt you into forgiving her before you were ready. So, Alexia made her way upstairs, agreeing to Eli’s warnings to leave you alone if you wouldn’t let her in. 

Her knock on your door was uncharacteristically gentle, and her voice was almost shaky as she announced herself. 

“Nena? Can I come in for a minute?” 

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, feeling rather satisfied to see the guilt all over her face. 

Alexia stepped into the room, looking so nervous and so unlike herself. She was fidgeting with two pieces of paper in her hands, barely able to bring herself to look you in the eye. “I am so sorry, hermanita. More sorry than I can put into words.” She didn't seem to know what else to say, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Do you think that is enough?” You asked. 

Alexia shook her head rapidly. “No, I know it isn’t. Alba and I are going to fix this, nena, I promise. Whatever we have to do, whatever it takes. We will make this up to you. There is nothing more important to us than you.” 

Your eldest sister could tell you didn’t believe her, the way you looked away from her was a dead giveaway. 

“I know you are upset, and that is okay. I just… can I give you a hug, nena? You can still be mad at me and everything. I’d just really like an hermanita hug.” Alexia said vulnerably, tears clouding her vision. She had underestimated how painful it would be to see you so upset with her, but her chest truly ached as she took in the betrayal and disappointment on your face. A few tears fell from her eyes, and it was this bit of emotion that had you nodding your head, stepping forward as Alexia wrapped her arms around you almost painfully tight. 

It made you feel better, even though it probably shouldn’t have. Your sister’s hugs always felt warm and safe, and today was no exception. Even though she’d hurt you. It was still Alexia, and she was a hard person to stay mad at. Still, you pulled away before you wanted to, and the blonde cleared her throat, holding out the pieces of paper for you. 

“From me and Alba. We will be downstairs, if you want to talk.” Your sister opened and closed her mouth a few times, before shaking her head, mustering a weak smile, and leaving the room. She shut the door behind her, something she never did, always insisting on leaving it open just to bother you. 

You opened your sisters’ letters, not quite sure what you would be reading. You weren’t quite angry anymore, just sad. You were never one to hold a grudge, but you weren’t sure how they were going to be able to make this stop hurting. 

You underestimate, however, how well your sisters knew you, and combined with the information they had from Eli, they knew just what to say. You read both the letters a few times, tears streaming down your face for what felt like the 12th time that day. This time, though, they were good tears. 

Both letters were similar, but very… specific to each of your sisters. 

Alexia’s was practically a bullet pointed list, in her messy, big handwriting. There was a mark on the page that looked suspiciously like a teardrop, and Alexia talked about her emotions in the letter the way she always did in real life; saying as little as possible, while still somehow saying a whole lot. 

Alba’s was a real letter, paragraph after paragraph of neat writing, beautifully articulating what she wanted to say to you. It was always a bit surprising to remember how perceptive Alba was. She was a forgetful person, but not when it came to the things that mattered. This was clear in the letter, as she listed small details out that you hadn’t thought she’d noticed. 

Both of the letters were an apology. An apology, and a deep dive into how proud of you Alexia and Alba were. They apologized for not making it clear, before going back to when you were a baby, and they watched you walk for the first time. Through the years, they had overlapping and different memories of things you’d done that made them swell with pride. There were things you remembered, and things you didn’t, but they made you feel special all the same. Alexia and Alba did pay attention, that much was clear. Even if they weren’t always the best at showing it, they paid attention to you. 

It did more than a verbal apology could have ever done. It was something tangible, kind, warm and loving. It made you feel loved, and seen. It made you feel like you mattered. You weren’t Alexia, and you weren’t Alba, but you were you, and they felt that to be something much more special. 

You tried to hold out a bit longer, you really did, but you were putting the letters down and rushing downstairs before you could really stop yourself. 

You passed the kitchen on the way to the living room, where your Mami was preparing dinner, a small, relieved smile on her face. Wishing you had something funny and unbothered to say, you walked into the room, seeing your sisters sitting on the couch, looking pathetically distraught. 

“Hola.” You said softly, feeling indescribably happy when both of their faces lit up at the sight of you, and you quickly crossed the room, wedging yourself in between them. They made room for you, as they always did, allowing you to fit easily into your spot squished with Alexia on one side, and Alba on the other. 

They each wrapped an arm around you, and both tried to pull you in opposite directions. It was ironic, the way they used you to play a silly game of tug of war. This time, however, they stopped pulling when they realized neither of them would win. Instead, they both wrapped you into a very awkward and suffocating hug, arms wrapped around you from seemingly every direction. 

“I love you, nena.” Alexia whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. 

Alba did the same to your cheek. “I am so sorry, hermanita, and I love you so much,” she whispered. 

“I know.” You said softly. “I forgive you.”  

And if it had been either of them in your position, it would have taken a lot more. You were the forgiving sister, though, and you’d really just needed proof that your sisters thought that you were as important as you felt them to be. 

When Eli came in the room a few minutes later, it was to see the three of you in a rather familiar position; you in the middle, each of your sisters holding on to as much of you as they could, completely content. They’d always like to hold you like that, starting when you were a baby. Alexia would carefully put you on the couch in between them, and put a movie on. They would take turns telling you all the important details your brain was far too small to comprehend, but you didn’t squirm, and you didn’t fuss. You would stay plopped right in between them, one of each of their fingers gripped tight in your hands. 

It was a lot different now, because you were all bigger. It looked like an uncomfortable pile of limbs on the couch, but Eli knew you were all as comfortable as you’d ever get. 

-------

Neither of your sisters seemed very willing to let you out of their sight anytime soon, which you were sure would grow annoying very fast. For now, though, you enjoyed the attention, especially when Alexia pushed the wrapped box that had been sitting on the table into your hands. 

And, you’d already forgiven them before you’d seen the camera they’d bought you, one that you’d been desperately wanting for a while. If you hadn’t forgiven them, though, you would have now. You could be bought, and your sisters were well aware of it. As was your Mami. She rolled her eyes as you stared in awe at the camera, as Alexia and Alba looked on proudly, sharing a discreet fist bump. Personally, Eli thought you’d let them off kind of easy, but she shouldn’t have underestimated you. You were a youngest child, and you knew how to get what you wanted. 

“Can we go see your photos after dinner?” Alba asked, not even getting a glance from you, your attention completely zeroed in on the camera in your hands. 

“Nope.” You replied. Alexia and Alba looked uneasily at each other, and then at their Mami for guidance, before you spoke again. “Alexia, you are going to clean my room. And Alba, you are going to make me those cookies I like. We can go see the gallery tomorrow.” 

Your face was smug, and your mother stifled a laugh as your sisters looked disgruntled at each other. Begrudgingly, though, they both nodded. 

“Anything for the princess.” Alexia mumbled, and Alba snickered quietly. 

“What was that?” You asked, turning your attention to your sisters. They looked at you in defiance, smirks on both of their faces, not willing to let you completely walk all over them, even if they deserved it. 

“You heard me.” Alexia teased. “The baby princess always gets her way.” 

“Really, Ale?” You asked calmly, before turning to Eli, your new camera briefly forgotten on the table in front of you. “Mami, do you have any plans in two weekends? I was thinking we could take a trip just the two of-” 

Alexia cut you off by rather aggressively throwing herself at you, covering your mouth with her hand. “NO HERMANITA!” The blonde shouted. “Oh, gross, nena, really?” She groaned, pulling her hand away when you licked it. You smiled triumphantly, managing to push away from her a bit. 

“You are not a princess, nena. Just a little baby.” Alba chimed in, reaching over from her chair to pinch your cheek in one hand. “Now keep quiet before you ruin the surprise and give Ale a stroke.” 

Your mother shook her head, taking pity on her eldest daughter, who looked prepared to explode at the thought of the surprise being ruined. “Do you think I do not know you were planning a trip for the four of us, Alexia? Honey, you asked me several times if I was free that weekend, and reminded me not to make any plans then either. You also asked me for hotel recommendations, and pretended it was for you and Olga. You are a bad liar, mija. I have known for weeks.” Eli laughed. 

Alexia frowned, shoving you and Alba both away from her as you both collapsed into giggles, despite the fact that this was entirely her fault, and you and Alba were blameless. She knew there was teasing coming her way, but the smile on your face was well worth it. Order had been restored, and both of your sisters had made promises to themselves, and to each other, to not let their arguments hurt you anymore. You were just happy to have them both there, at home. All four of you together, how it was supposed to be. 

-------

it will really always be funny to me that my sister and i do not say the words "i'm sorry" to each other. like we'd both rather die than apologize. she could hit me with her car and i wouldn't want her to apologize because... ew. anyway sometimes having a sister is cool and sometimes its not but i love mine.

everyone applaud me for not splitting this into two parts. seriously i am astounded at myself right now.

hope you all like it :) give me all your thoughts.

[dredshirtroberts]

To be so clear I am also regularly in denial about how much pain i'm just in

even with meds, even with rest, even if I haven't done anything in a week, even if i did only good things the day before, even if the exercise was necessary

buuuuut the meds do take the edge off (still in pain but less which is a net good) and i can always tell when they've worn out (naproxen SAYS it's good for 8-12 hours and I get Maybe 7.5 on a good day). I'm attempting to change to preemptive pain relief from chasing pain constantly and it's hard. But we're getting better.

speaking of which. Naproxen time.

i think i'm like. really in denial sometimes about how much pain i'm just Casually In...

OH NO WAIT HANG ON WAIT ACTUALLY MY MEDICINE WORE OFF AND I DID LIKE A LOT OF UNANTICIPATED ACTIVITY NEVER MIND I'M DUMB I'M HURTING FOR ACTUAL REASONS THIS TIME

[microclown]

I was rewatching s1e3 and something finally clicked for me..

Please forgive me if this seems obvious to you. It helps me to type out my thoughts, but I'm sure I'm just an idiot and no one else needs this explained to them, lol. That said - I was always slightly confused by the emotional weight of the holy water arc during the flashback sequence. Particularly I was confused by how angry Crowley got when Aziraphale referred to their relationship as fraternizing in the 1862 fight. I mean, "to associate or form a friendship with someone, especially when one is not supposed to" is exactly what they are doing, right? So why the 80 year breakup?

Crowley says he wants the holy water for if "it" all goes pear shaped. The phrasing is necessarily vague, and could mean lots of things. Since I know what he eventually uses it for, I was thinking about it in the context of Armageddon, or maybe more generally and vaguely about Crowley not always choosing to go along with Hell, and associating with Aziraphale. But there was not much reason for Crowley to already be thinking about Armageddon back then.

As we know from the full diary entry Neil posted, the timeline of the Edinburgh entry, and the cut bookshop opening scene, it seems like Crowley and Aziraphale were spending A LOT of time together by the 1800's. When Crowley is pulled back down to Hell in 1827, he learns that Hell is paying more attention to him than he'd previously thought. Crowley realizes at this point that spending so much time with Aziraphale is actively putting him in real danger. He recognizes that, and instead of breaking things off, or seeing Aziraphale less, he doubles down. If this relationship is dangerous, then he wants the tools to fight for it.

That's what I think I didn't get about the holy water request. It's not just general insurance, it's specifically insurance for if Hell finds out about him and Aziraphale. It's also a super vulnerable request because in making it, Crowley is openly acknowledging how important their relationship is to him. Aziraphale casually brings up the arrangement at the beginning of the conversation, and that's part of it, right? Because the whole basis of their relationship is the arrangement. It continues to be the pretense under which they meet, despite the relationship clearly having developed beyond that. And the arrangement, as Crowley proposed it in 537, is born out of convenience, and the assumption that Heaven and Hell would never notice anyway.

Crowley's request for insurance breaks that facade. He's acknowledging that it's not convenient, or safe, but he wants to do it anyway, despite the risk.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, is not ready for the screen to be taken away so abruptly. To make it worse, he assumes Crowley wants the holy water as an escape, rather than a weapon. Suddenly he is confronted with both the danger their association poses, and the idea that Crowley might choose to take his own life. He can't imagine the guilt of being directly responsible for the latter.

I also think the strength of his own emotional response to the thought of losing Crowley catches Aziraphale off guard. He hasn't admitted to himself how much he actually cares, and it scares him. Worrying about Heaven is more comfortable and familiar, so he falls back on that and switches to "If they knew I'd been... fraternizing!"

But bringing up the threat of Heaven reads to Crowley as Aziraphale saying "You may be willing to put yourself at risk for the sake of our relationship, but I am not." The word choice of "fraternizing" comes off as a dismissive and demeaning way to describe a relationship that Crowley just admitted he would risk his life for.

It's an unintentionally deep cut when Crowley is already at his most vulnerable, and so he lashes out. As far as we've seen, this is possibly the first time Crowley has truly lashed out at Aziraphale. So yeah, 80 year breakup makes sense!

And what makes this so much worse is what happens next. Crowley reaches out again in 1941 with a dramatic gesture (rescuing Aziraphale from the Nazis, saving his books). It's clear they've missed each other. They don't discuss the fight, but it's there subtextually. Aziraphale, tentatively and thrillingly, refers to them as friends, for the first time ever. He tells Crowley that he trusts him.

And then, that very same night their worst fears are confirmed. Just when they've finally reconciled a fight over the dangers of their relationship, and just when Aziraphale has finally admitted that it is not a relationship of convenience, but genuine friendship, they are exposed. Crowley is going to face punishment from Hell, explicitly for being Aziraphale's "trusted confident", and he doesn't have insurance. If Aziraphale's trick hadn't succeeded, Crowley would have had no way to protect himself.

idk it just makes me feel things ok

[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song [Part 1.5]

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: There is a little, annoying human trapped in this bay with him. And he's going to eat them. (Vil's POV)

[PART 1] [PART 1.5] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [PART 5]

There was a little, raggedy human staring up at him from the sand, and Vil had never felt so miserably persecuted in all his years.

The thing had been bound to him in a mess of ropes and frantic, bipedal flailing, and he’d honestly thought that it had drowned. Hoped that it had drowned. But no, apparently he couldn’t be quite so lucky. None of his pod’s raids had ever gone so terribly, and normally he was better able to keep his head about him. But it had been Epel’s first attempt at sneaking on board one of the grand, creaking, human vessels, and maybe he’d been a touch concerned about it. Like a fretting parent sending their guppy off to the deep for their first solo-swim. And perhaps he’d struck a bit too quick and sharp when he saw things headed South. Not taking the normal care he would to assess for traps, or weapons, or stupid humans and their equally stupid, fraying ropes.  

But none of that mattered. It was hardly a crime to want to protect your family. It had happened, that was the end of it. There was no changing things. And now he was here. In this cove. With that thing.

You pedaled backward in the sand like those two legs of yours hardly worked at all, and even though it looked like you were retreating (rightfully so, at least you were smart enough to realize this was a lost battle), Vil still bared his teeth in a challenge. Because he was angry, and sore, and at the moment you were the cause of every, single one of his problems in the world. He tossed his tail in the surf, splattering stinging bits of ice water into your face.

“Stop! Stop!” you squawked, wheeling away like he was dousing you in acid rain rather than a bit of pissy water warfare. “I get it! I won’t come near you, jeesh! I wasn’t planning on it to begin with!”

“Of course you weren’t,” he spat. “From the looks of you, you don’t plan much of anything at all.”

You didn’t respond to his scathing insult, only kept scooting yourself back against the sand on legs that still apparently refused to work. Or maybe you’d simply forgotten about them. You seemed like you could be the type.

He ground his talons into the damp sand at his hips and felt the ridges of the fins along his spine prickling tight and painful, trying to puff out in a predatory display that they simply couldn’t because he was still bound in the godforsaken rope.

“I don’t know what your little plan was,” he hissed, “but you’ve done both of us a disservice. And while I’m sure you’re used to disappointment, I am not going to tolerate this.”

More silence. You looked—not confused, per se. But definitely not particularly keen on following his very justified rant against your person. Your gaze kept darting from his vicious glare, to his claws digging up the shoreline, and then to his lips. He could see your own mouth moving a bit alongside his, like you were trying to echo the shape of the insults flying off his tongue.

“Listen here, you fleshy rat,” he snapped, jabbing a black talon in your direction. “You’re going to tell me the course that your ridiculous ship had set so that I can return to my pod at once. Do you understand? And if you’re lucky, I won’t crawl my way up there to bite off your fingers one by one. How’s that sound?”

You blinked back at him with no comprehension, like his marvelous depiction of having your bones gnawed on for snacks just wasn’t a vivid enough picture.

The rage in his chest bubbled bright and hot, and the age-old magics in his veins zipped through his blood like a stroke of lightening.

Insolent brat.

Fine. He’d make you listen then.

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you said, and oh, you were a nuisance. He was going to rip your nerves out from the depths of your useless, human limbs. Feast on your bones until the marrow had been picked clean and leave the scraps for the gulls—

He parted his lips and sang loud and sharp—letting that familiar lull roll off his tongue like the sweetest poison. His Call had always been the strongest in his pod, after all. That’s why it was his job to keep them safe, to ensure that no one was lost in a hunt that was meant to be so simple just because they couldn’t keep their purple-headed curiosity under wraps long enough to not to be caught—

Vil turned his sneer back your way, fully prepared to see you kowtowed before him with your nose buried in the sand. And—

You were just sitting there. Butt in the muck and just as wide-eyed and brainless as before. Staring back at him with a startled sort of expression on your face and nothing else. Normally there was a sort of tether between him and his victims. A call, an answer. Simple principles. And while he could never see the tangible net of his influence tightening around their brains, he could always sense it. Or at least something like it. But this time, there was just… nothing.

Vil snarled, swallowing around the spiky pinch of something in his gut that he refused to call panic, and canted his head back to sing louder.

The shallow dregs of the cove rippled at his hips with the force of it, and he could feel the swell of his influence curling out further and further. Digging its claws into anything and everything it could reach. He could feel one tether spooling out and grabbing after the other, feel the familiar pull of subservience from the very sea itself. And—

“I can’t hear you!”

Oh, you mocking piece of—

He widened his mouth until his jaw was creaking and his tongue was going numb from the sharp bursts of arcana snapping from throat.

“It’s not a challenge!” you wailed, hands cupped over your mouth to try and shout over his howling song. “My ears literally, actually, do not work, you fucking overgrown anchovy!”

His mouth fell closed all at once, the Call cutting off so abruptly that the returning wave of snapping magics almost made his head spin. The power of it hung along his nerves like the zipping prickle of electric eels, and the water at his hips churned and bubbled.

“There,” you huffed, like someone who’d just been horribly inconvenienced by a gust of wind ruining their hair, rather than a human bearing the full weight of a siren’s fury. Brushing off some of the most powerful magics in the ocean like it was nothing worse than a bit of sand in your trousers. It was… unnerving. And it had something uneasy curdling in Vil’s stomach.

He dug his claws into the sand, fins flaring along his sides in a defensive display before he could help himself. Your eyes tracked the way the muck gave way beneath his talons and he watched your throat bob. Good. You should be afraid of him. Because he refused to be afraid of a human like you. No matter how the hair at his nape prickled or the fins at his ears pinned against the sides of his head.

“Well…” you said after a long moment, awkward and stiff. “I should get going, I suppose.”

And then you were stumbling your way to your feet to venture deeper into the crags of the small island. Vil smacked his tail against the surf, loud and sharp. A plaintive ‘good, begone,’ if ever there was one. But you didn’t even flinch, let alone turn around to witness his grand ‘fuck you.’ He wasn’t sure why he was expecting you to.

He watched you crawl your way up a mess of boulders and old shells, eyes narrowed and that same, unpleasant prickle running through his nerves. Once you were well and truly out of sight, he returned to his fins and started doing all he could to assess the damage. The sooner he could deal with this setback and set out into the depths of the ocean, the sooner he could return to his pod. And the sooner he’d be away from you, and all your strange, human ways.

.

.

You returned maybe an hour later, only a few minutes after he’d given up on trying to pick the horrid mess of twine from the wounds along his tail. His claws weren’t made for such delicate work, and the poisoned tips of them weren’t doing his shredded fins any favors.

He turned on you with a snarl that would have sent any other sentient creature scurrying for cover, fins pinned and canines on full display. But apparently you had less self-preservation than even the brainless, teeny, rock crabs burrowing hurriedly into the sand.    

“Hello,” you said. Like that was any way appropriate.

“Get lost,” he snarled.

You nodded back, simple and sage, and then pointed to the mess of your ropes twined along his fins.

“I can get that off if you promise not to eat me.”

Vil sneered and surged forward to scrape his claws through the muck again, hoping his demonstration of what he would do to your face if you stepped near him was clear enough to get through your head.

“Touch me and you’ll be lucky if all I do is eat you.”

You blinked back, and he watched the way your eyes jumped across his expression. Trailed to his mouth, his brow, his teeth. Reading whatever you could see there. And then you shrugged again, unbothered by his spitting threats as before.

“Alright. Your loss, I suppose.”

There was a keenness to your gaze though, a sharp, pointed consideration that had his hackles rising all over again.

“If you think that you can be rid of me that easily, you’re solely mistaken,” he spat, smacking his fins into the shallows until the water was churning wild and angry. “This is all your fault, and whatever ridiculous plot you’re considering, I’ll gladly return it tenfold.”

Your face pinched like you had any right to be annoyed by this at all, and then promptly turned away from him like you’d lost all interest in his theatrics. You meandered around the shore, scooping up the battered remains of some of the fish that had stranded themselves during his failed Call. Then you sat yourself well away from the water’s edge and pulled a knife from your boot, running it along the fish’s scales and clearing out the muck.

“Thanks for the food!” you chirped petulantly, making long, pointed, eye contact as you did so. Like that little blade of yours was supposed to be any sort of a threat. Perhaps he could use it to pick the leftover bits of you out of his teeth.

Vil turned up his nose and returned to carefully grooming the shredded ends of his fins.

“You’re an obnoxious brat,” he growled, wincing as his claws caught over a frayed patch of scales and began to bleed all over again. “And I’m going to drown you.”

Naturally, you did not respond.

.

.

The rope burned, and he knew he wasn’t helping himself. The twine of it was frayed, poor quality. And combined with the tacky, salt-sticky damp of the waves, it made the worst sort of web. Vil threw himself around in the shallows like a pup stuck in their first net. And he knew—knew—this wasn’t going to make things better. But the more he worked to free himself and the less progress he made, the angrier he got (Not afraid, angry. He wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t).

A tight bit of fibers snagged along the delicate mesh of the fins at his hips and gave a shrieking riiip that had him collapsing into the sand bed with a bitten off noise that he refused to call a gasp. But Sevens, it did hurt. He pressed his face into the shallow pool of warm water beneath his chin and forced his breath to calm, to dig his claws into the grit beneath him rather than his own scales. Because this wasn’t working. And he—he needed to fix it. On his own. Because he was on his own. And he was going to manage, just like he always had.

There was a noise off on the shore—the tumbling of pebbles against stone as you shifted around in your little, makeshift hideaway. And he refused to look up to meet your gaze. Because surely you were staring. Humans were always so happy to watch his kind suffer, flailing about in their traps and bound in nets like a garish display. And he wasn’t going to give you the satisfaction of knowing he’d been seen like… like this.

So he forced himself to go still and silent, ignoring the pain biting into his sides like the teeth of a shark and the panicked, clawing thing in his gut that kept screaming that he was going to die here.

.

.

The next morning, you were wandering the shoreline, scrounging after the remains of various crabs from the day prior. Vil refused to look at you, and spent the time pointedly running his claws through the tangles in his hair and primping himself like he didn’t have a care in the world. Because if a stupid, lowly human fit for nothing but an after-dinner-snack could thrive in these circumstances, than surely he could do even better.

There was the soft, wet sounds of your footsteps behind him, and Vil turned on you with a roaring snarl—fins pinned and spines perked, defensive.

“What?” he snapped, beating his tail.

You awkwardly held up one your pickings—a round, red crab with fat claws.

“I don’t know if you all eat fish or whatever, but…”

Vil fought the urge to gawk. Were you offering him one of—but why would you—

He bit through his surprise with another sneer. “Firstly, crabs are crustaceans, not fish. You’d think any self-respecting creature that spent their days on the ocean would know something as obvious as that. Secondly, why would you even think that I would share a meal with you? Even I didn’t think humans could be that stupid, but you’re certainly setting a new bar.”

Your mouth twitched at his very sharply enunciated ‘stupid’ and he fought a smirk.

“Oh. Know that one, do you?” he cooed, all mocking.

“Look, do you want it or not?” you snapped, irritated, and his fins flared up again—wide and defensive.

Vil crossed his arms on an exaggerated, pointed huff and turned in the other direction. A clear dismissal. “I’d rather starve.”

“Whatever,” you griped, voice canted sharp with your foul temper, and then there was a crack and a yelp.

Vil turned back to see you reeling away, hand over your mouth to catch a mix of blubbering, wincing curses and a shattered crab shell clenched between your fingers in the most obvious show of stupidity he’d perhaps ever seen. He burst out into laughter before he could help himself, and you stormed away with warm cheeks and pieces of jagged, red shell still clinging to the corners of your lips.

.

.

That night he fought the ropes even harder, ignoring the way they pulled, and tore, and dug into places that he knew they should not. And maybe it was self-destructive, stupid, but if he didn’t get himself free of this horrible mess his fins would never heal. He’d never be able to swim properly again. And he’d never be able to leave this cove, never return to his pod, his family. Never—

A shell walloped him in the back of the head and Vil turned with a shriek so vicious it nearly startled even him. Because there you were—the bane of his existence. Standing at the edge of the water with that ridiculous, deadpan look on your ridiculous face and already scrounging about in the sands like you were looking for something else to throw at him. He didn’t even know what he was screaming at that point, absolutely brought over the edge in rage, and pain, and fear, and it was all. your. faul—

Then something in your expression snapped and you were storming forward towards the surf—absolutely incensed.

“Look, fish face! You were the one who attacked me! You!” you shrieked, stomping in the sand and nearly pinning the longer, trailing ends of his fins beneath your heels. “So stop acting like I’m some scheming shithead who was planning to trap you like this from the start!”

“You trapped me!” he howled, outraged. “You were going to kill a member of my pod! Who’s barely out of his pup days! And he was my responsibility, and you were going to attack him!”

Magic zipped along his tongue, demanding that you kneel. Show your throat and be done with it. But when you just kept glaring back—absolutely stone-faced and seething with indignation—Vil forced himself to take a breath, and then another.

“Epel,” he spat, low and exaggerated. He saw your eyes flicker to his lips, trace the outline of the word. “Epel,” he said again, sharp and angry. And when your own mouth began to subconsciously follow the shape of it, he was off and running again. “He’s my responsibility. Epel. He—” Vil pointed at the pale, lavender creases at the base of his fins. “His hair is like this. You saw him. You spoke to him. And you were going to tie him up just like you did to me.”

Your eyes narrowed, sharp.

“That kid,” you said after a moment, lips twisting in a frown. “You attacked me because of Purple Head?!”

“Epel,” Vil spat again, smacking his fins into the surf to douse you in a mess of seawater. “Not some kid. A pup. Barely of age. And you were going to—”

“You—” you hissed, scrubbing the salt from your eyes with the back of your hand. “He was still attacking us first! He was going after my friend!” you snapped, kicking your own wave back. It splattered along Vil’s hips, barely a sprinkling in comparison to his own tidal waves. “You don’t get to act all noble and protective, and like any of that makes any difference when you all were going to eat us!”

Vil snarled, and the twist of it left a bitter, rotten taste on his tongue. It wasn’t the same. It didn’t matter what you wanted, because you were just some human. Humans were vile, and cruel, and good for nothing but filling their bellies. And this was his family. So what if you claimed you were just standing up for your own brood? It wasn’t the same. It wasn’t.

So he turned back to dive into the shallows with as much force as his aching, crippled fins could manage. Sinking to the bottom of the cove in a huff of bubbles and clawing his way through the muck until he was well and truly hidden in the murky, sandy depths. He smacked his tail against the mess of pebbles and rocks until every creature beneath was scurrying for safety—fleeing outwith the flailing, destructive force of a Siren’s tantrum.

Was that why he was here, then? Bound and gagged on some hellhole of an island because of his own mistakes? Because you’d just been aligning yourself with the moral high ground he’d been riding this whole time? Saving your kin at the cost of your own, fragile skin. Dragged overboard to fight the monsters trying to devour your family whole. Ridiculous. He wasn’t going to let himself feel bad for the slighted prey in a hunt gone wrong. Sharks certainly didn’t regret the fish they chased, nor did the great black-and-white whales that pursued those sharks in turn. This was just the way of things, the circle of life. And he wasn’t going to feel guilty about the tight, protectivelook on your face as you shouted him down about defending your own pod at all.

.

.

You were curled up by the same rock the next morning, sleeping soundly against the rough hewn edge. It looked hideously uncomfortable, with your chin tucked up against your chest and your head pressed against half-a-dozen layered, jagged ridges. Vil had always heard that humans were used to luxury—soft, plush blankets made of foreign fabrics and great, stuffed squares of bedding that could put even the finest woven siren nests to shame. And there you were. Scrunched up with a shell clearly embedded in your cheek.

He frowned, fins rippling awkwardly at his sides where the majority were still knotted up in twine.

He needed to leave this cove. As soon as possible. And get away from… all of this.

It generally wasn’t considered the best of ideas to Call openly across the sea. Lone sirens were prime targets for all sorts of nasty scavengers. Human hunters, rival pods, even other rogues looking for a fight. It was dangerous to mark one’s position so openly, let alone in a manner that made it obvious of the less than stellar situation they had no doubt found themselves in. It was also a nasty toll to try and Call so far for so long, on himself and the environment around him. A screeching, horrible thing that he’d only heard a few times in all his years. It was a terrible idea for everyone involved, himself and his fellow castaway most of all. But, well, desperate times, and all that.

Besides, it wasn’t like you’d be able to hear it anyways.

So began his endless song.

He’d sing, and sing, and sing—feeling the ripples of it carrying across the surface of the water and shivering through the air. And then, after he’d worn his throat ragged, he’d pause. Just long enough to swallow around the sting and tilt his head to listen. His fins would flare out against the side of his head, and he’d wait. And then, when there was no answer to his Calling, he’d circle back and do it again. A part of him hoped there would be none. He’d taught his pod better than to do something so foolish—to put themselves at the mercy of all the monsters of the sea. And… if they didn’t answer, perhaps that just meant they were searching for him. Using his own, ridiculous harping to trace him down. And if not that, then at least that they were off somewhere safe. Somewhere far, and hidden.

He swam and sang until he was too exhausted for either. Bound fins a heavy, leaden weight at his hips and head barely cresting above the water.

When the sun set over the horizon, Vil let himself roll in alongside the surf to rest in the sand, boneless and sore. His eyes slipped shut with the encroaching darkness, too heavy to hold open at all. He hadn’t seen much of you today. Occasionally you’d wander down to the shoreline, head popping up over a cluster of rocks to shoot him a look that he couldn’t quite decipher, but for the most part you’d stayed hidden away. Out of his hair, at least. Perhaps you’d finally learned what was good for you, and that keeping as far away from the beast lurking in the shallows was the only way you’d be getting out of this alive.

And then his eyes were snapping open to a field of stars overhead and the moon hanging fat and low in the sky like a fruit ripe for the plucking.

And there you were, hovering over him with that laughably small knife of yours.

Carefully and gently working the rope away from his tattered fins.

Your fingers were delicate, precise. Every time those woven fibers tugged in a way that could even begin to hurt, you were softening your touch and muttering reassurances under your breath. He wondered if you realized you were doing that at all—chattering quiet, rambling nonsense like a nervous tick. ‘Ack, don’t twitch so much, it’s just going to cut deeper,’ and ‘sorry! Sorry! I didn’t think that would move like that! Just—just stay still and it will all be done way faster and then you can swim off, and—’ You were exceptionally careful over the areas of rough, beaten scales along the dip of his tail, wincing in sympathy at the raw, raw skin there. The blade never strayed anywhere it wasn’t needed, and you never touched any part of him that wasn’t in an effort to work another tangle of knots free.

Vil kept himself perfectly still and his breaths even and deep. He watched you through the low, golden dip of his lashes, eyes tracking your fluttering hands and quiet mumblings.

The last of the rope fell away with a wet, heavy plap in the sand and when you sighed there was a smile in your voice.

“There,” you muttered, soft. “Now he can swim home again.”

He froze, startled, and something dropped low and tight in his gut.  

Because humans were cruel. Humans were food. Humans were nothing more than vermin crawling over the surface of his ocean in their hunkering, wooden vessels and finless feet. They didn’t deserve sympathy, or anything of that ilk. And—

Your gaze met his and the spark of horrified realization didn’t even manage to settle properly in your wide, wide eyes before he had you pinned in the sand.

It was easy—far too easy. Compared to him you were so small, so fragile. No heavy, bulk of muscle and scales to help keep you alive and fighting. Just fragile limbs and lungs that were good for nothing. He dug his claws into your shoulders and felt the warm prick of blood curl up beneath his talons—could see you wince with the first pinch of acrid poison sharpening the wound. He was going to rip you apart, just like he’d said he would. Even if you hadn’t been able to hear him, he’d show you. Because humans were vile, and no matter what you’d claimed, you didn’t deserve anything better than an end beneath the points of his fangs. Fuel for the journey back to his pod and nothing more.

‘There. Now he can swim home again.’

He reeled back, nose scrunching and teeth grinding in his jaw.

You were still beneath him, blinking up in shock but not fighting. Like being flipped onto your back had been startling out of principle, but not unexpected. Like the idea of dying at his claws was just something you’d been expecting from the get-go.

And yet—

‘Sorry! Sorry!’ you’d been rattling. ‘Ah, if you squirm it’s just going to hurt, you stupid, overgrown fish—'

Vil reared back with a snarl that had goosebumps racing all along your arms, and then he was diving back into the shallows—swiping the tip of his fins against your nose as he went in a sharp crack that he hoped would have you yelping and stumbling away from the ocean’s edge.

He paced along the edges of the bay, newly freed fins slowly uncurling in the lull of the tide. And he felt free. Sore, certainly, and aching in ways he never had before, but free.

When he popped his head back out of the water, you were sprawled out in the sand like a dying starfish, absolutely out of your mind and babbling nonsense about ‘captains’ and ‘collars’ under your breath.

‘Good,’ he harumphed, diving back into the shallows to twirl along his unbound tail. ‘Maybe that would teach you to stay out of the water.’

.

.

[TAG LIST - CLOSED]

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[tojisun]

sun, i am on my knees begging while typing rn. PLEASEEEEEE HURT DBF!SIMON BACK. he has hurt reader and gotten away with it tooooo many times

im kinda zooted rn but

beg more, sweet thing.

okok but im feeling mean rn and i do want simon to start regretting. i wonder if it’ll take seeing john price treating his girl right for him to snap out of it. imagine if he got blindsided. if simon assumed that you would never look for affection somewhere else, not because you’re unlovable—dear gods, you are the perfect girl—but because what you needed was someone like simon. someone older, someone who provides for you, who spoils you. but simon got complacent. he thought that sprinkles of affection are enough.

but they aren’t, are they? yes, the thrill had been addicting but you’ve gotten too soft. too in love. you’ve forgotten that this should have been temporary, forgotten that simon isn’t one for commitment. you thought you would continue to be trapped in that endless cycle of eating the scraps of simon’s affection; living off of a passion that gets easily snuffed out.

then, john came along. beautiful and rugged and ‘old man’ john. john whose eyes are a storm as they gazed at you; whose hands have never strayed closer, only swiping your hair away or drying the tears staining your cheeks; whose words are short and curt but gentle and soft, and you realized that the timbre of his voice fills you up with want.

john who strapped his helmet on yours and plopped you on the back of his harley before dropping you off at your dorm. john who didn’t ask for anything—not your number, not a chance to climb up with you to your room. he did not even ask if you were going to be alright—john knew you wouldn’t be, and he rather stay silent than ask you to lie to him.

you felt so out of your element as you stood there, trembling, looking at him.

“i-…thank you,” you said.

john said don’t worry about it. said don’t forget to drink lots of water because crying can cause dehydration, and don’t forget to grab a chew because he heard your stomach grumble on the ride home. you don’t tell him that you are starved for something else so you nod and climb upstairs to your room, thinking that was the last you would see john.

but john isn’t the type to let what he loves slip from his grasp so he began to fill your days. he’s always there when simon can’t—doesn’t—come, filling up the hole in your heart one fragment at a time. always there to distract you from the yawning in your chest. always there to listen to you, to watch you, to spoil you.

he smells of ozone and burnt rubber and petrol. he has weary lines on his face and unimaginable exhaustion buried within his irises. he has scars on his palms and his forearms and on his knees. and yet, he is gorgeous to you. so gorgeous.

john’s the one who tells you he loves you first. you don’t say it back. not yet. he understands.

then, simon confronts him. asks what he’s doing with you; why is he driving you around in his harley; why is he picking you up from uni.

why is he putting a wedge between you and simon?

john downs his bourbon and rumbles, “cause i love her.”

and simon fumbles because—

[silent-stories]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader

Summary: Astarion fears that he is forcing you to spend the rest of your life in darkness.

Astarion was lying on the bed, next to you, his eyes were staring at an indefinite point on the ceiling and between his eyebrows there were a few more wrinkles, as if he was intensely thinking.

The inn room was comfortable, clean, and scented with lavender. It was nice to finally be able to spend a few days of peace after Cazador's death and sleep in a real bed, next to someone you loved.

You looked at his profile, the curve of his lips, the white curls on the pillow and some falling onto his forehead, the way his chest remained completely still, devoid of a beating heart and air in his lungs.

His ruby ​​eyes looked darker now that they were no longer in daylight and you found yourself thinking that you already missed the way they sparkled when hit by the sun's rays.

You glanced at the window in the room, the curtains were drawn so as not to let in the slightest bit of light, obviously. Ever since Astarion went back to not being able to be in the sunlight, you were always careful about that.

"Is something bothering you, Star?"

You already knew the answer, you knew him, but you didn't want to force any explanation.

"Don't you think you made the wrong choice?" He responded with another question, his voice low.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you think I am the wrong choice?" He continued speaking without looking at you, his pale hands lying one on his stomach and one on his side. You wanted to grab one, kiss his knuckles and play with his fingers in that way that always made him laugh no matter how hard he tried to hold it back.

You decided against it only because he seemed so deep in his thoughts that a sudden touch would start him. You knew that some types of physical contact were still new to him.

"Star-"

"I feel like I'm forcing you to spend the rest of your life in the dark, hiding."

"You're not forcing me, it was my decision to stay with you."

"This is exactly why I ask you: don't you think you made the wrong decision?"

"You will never be-"

He interrupted you.

"I want you to know that if at any moment you realize that this is not the life you want to live, that you are tired of hiding from the sun, I will understand.

And although I may never be ready to let you go, I will, because you deserve to live. You deserve to walk among people, village festivals, going through the markets, you deserve the sun's rays kissing your skin. And I don't want to deprive you of what you deserve, my love. I can't deprive you of living."

The way he spoke and the sincerity in his voice, devoid of any hint of sarcasm and irony, struck you in a way you couldn't quite place and left you speechless.

He was telling you to leave him for your own good.

"As much as I would like to have you next to me for eternity, I find it a too selfish idea. Even for me." He continued, "So I'm telling you, if one day I won't find you lying in bed next to me, don't feel guilty for running away from someone who was limiting you, who was forcing you into the darkness when you wanted to see the world.

I'll understand it. I won't lie and say I won't spend the rest of my days trying in vain to fill the void you left in me, but that won't change my mind. You deserve to live, my love. Not to hide."

He was saying you could go, even though it would cause him pain. That it was more important to know you were happy with someone else than unhappy with him. You wondered if there was a greater sign of love than this.

"My star."

The way you called him, maybe stirred something in him. He turned his head towards you and his gaze finally met yours, his red eyes were big, sad and full of affection.

“I would rather spend the rest of my life in the darkness with you than in the daylight with someone else.”

He slowly moved his body towards you, his hand gently brushing your hip and so you reached out to trace his features with your fingertips, brushing a curl away from his forehead.

You kept talking.

"The world is still alive when the sun goes down, we can go out and live with it. We can see how the moon reflects on the waves of the sea and on the surface of the lakes, we can walk in the woods that only we know, we can try to count the stars and invent new constellations."

His grip around you became firmer but still extremely gentle as he pushed you closer to his body. You put your arms around him in the same way and with your hand you caressed his back, aware that under the light fabric of his shirt, the scars of his past stood out on his skin.

You remembered the day he told you that it was okay, when you touched them, that they hadn't caused him physical pain in years and that, when he felt the tips of your fingers run gently over them, it was as if they were healing for a second time.

"I don't care what we do, as long as we're together. I'm not interested in running away from you because I don't want anyone else. You won't find my side of the bed empty one day, because that's the only place I want to be. You didn't force me to do anything, Star, it was my decision to be with you. And it will be my decision to stay with you every day to follow."

There was a moment of silence, then his lips curved into a slight smile. Almost invisible, but enough to show the tips of his white canines.

“You have always been so stubborn.” He murmured before leaving a kiss on your forehead. It was light and sweet and made you giggle.

"I think you like that."

"Just a bit."

"Just a bit?" You asked, pretending to be shocked.

"Mh-mh."

"Now don't you try to tell me that-"

When his cold lips met yours, you couldn't finish your sentence. The kiss was sweet, full of meaning and slower than usual.

Because in the end, you had all the time.

Because you weren't planning on leaving anytime soon.

[timdrakesmissingnotebook]

Scolds and Red Tulips

summary: damian wayne doesn't think he ever had a crush until, of course, you scold him for the first time.

pairing: damian wayne x reader

notes: okay so, maybe i liked writing these type of fics, they are fun!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Damian doesn't notice at first.

He didn't notice how he started looking out for you on that crowd of students, or how he began to find new topics to discuss with you.

He never notice how he would steal glances at you, or how sweety his palms felt when you were around.

He didn't notice until after he almost beat a boy up because he was trying to get your biology project topic.

God, he was so stupid.

"He started it, (y/l)." He mutters, looking down at his shoes.

You sigh and put a hand over your forehead, "I know. But you could've talked to Ms. Halle, Damian."

"I fight my own battles." He spits, raising his chin, "I do not need the help of a teacher."

"You were going to punch him because he got our subject." You deadpan, rolling your eyes. Putting an accusing finger on his chest, you say angrily, "I'm gonna go solve this. You stay here."

Damian watches as you turn around and stalks towards the classroom again and feels his face flush a deep scarlet red, and not because he was angry.

And just like that, Damian Wayne realized he was head over heels for you.

_______________________II_______________________

"Richard, Cassandra, I request your help. Now." Damian says, grabbing both of his siblings arms and fleeting to his room, ignoring the weird glance his father gave them.

"Hey, what is going on, Little D?" Dick asks, receiving a nod from Cassandra when the three entered the youngest room.

Damian just shoves both inside, quickly locking the door behind them. The boy just stands there for a minute, a hand on the round hand as he tries to calm his rapid breathing.

"Baby brother?" He hears his older sister calls out and suddenly he turns around to face both.

"I have been... Compromised."

"What?" Dick inquires, stepping closer to him, "What happened? Are you okay?"

"Of course I am not!" The younger groans, "I don't even know how it happened!"

Cassandra tilts her head and scans him from head to toe, "What happened?"

"I almost punched someone-" Damian starts, ignoring Dick frown, "I was just trying to help and then she- she started telling me off! And my face started to burn and my heart started to beat faster and- I'm so stupid, how didn't I notice it before?"

"You have a crush." Cassandra states, crossing her arms.

"I do not have a crush!" Damian stomps, feeling his face flush again. He turns his eyes to his feet, then to his siblings, "I don't do I?'

Dick stares at him for a few moments and a gentle smile creeps onto his lips, "You do."

Damian freezes, his heart skipping a beat.

This can't be happening. No. Fucking. Way.

"Are you gonna do anything about it?" His sister asks and he finds himself without an answer.

"I don't know. Should I?" Damian replies and frowns, "I don't- I don't even know if she interested on me."

"I think you should." Dick nods again, "How will you know if you don't even try."

Cassie hums in agreement and brings a hand to ruffle the boy's curls, "Do something. I feel like you will have a surprise."

Damian glances between two and feels himself nod, a determined expression painted creeping on his face, "Yeah, okay. I need to go search for a flower shop."

_______________________II_______________________

Damian felt his hands start to tremble as he spotted you at the end of the hallway.

The, rather comically, large bouquet of red tulips feels suddenly heavy on his hands.

Closing his eyes, Damian breaths heavily and mutters to himself, "Okay, okay, I can do this."

He walks towards you with quick steps, taps your shoulder lightly and when you turn around he shoves the bouquet on your face.

Looking at the bouquet and then back up at him, you ask puzzled, "Um, hi."

"Hey." He replies, still looking down.

"What is, um, this?"

"For you." He frowns and finally looks up at you, "You don't like them?"

"I- I do." You say, a small smile creeping on your face as you gently grab the flowers. Bring them towards your nose, "They smell amazing, thank you."

Damian glances up at you, a blush covering his cheeks, "You're welcome."

"So, is something going on?" You ask, tugging a strand of your hair behind your ear, "Not that I don't like them, I just- This is kinda random."

"I... came to a realization yesterday." He breaths out.

"And that is.." You prompt him to continue.

"I like you, (y/n)." He says, looking down again, "And I've been liking you for a very long time. You are sweet, and smart, and kind, and, with all due respect, the most beautiful person I have ever met, so, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm totally enchanted by you."

You stare at him, a blush rapidly creeping onto your face and the grip on the bouquet a tad harder, "Oh."

Damian sighs and meets your eyes again, "(y/n) (y/l), do you want to go on a date with me?"

You two stare at each other, both faces crimson red. You look down and let out a soft chuckle fall from your lips. Looking up again, you nod your head, "I'd love to go on a date with you."

Damian shoulders fall from relief and he smiles, "Perfect."

"Perfect." You repeat, and tilt your head again, "And just for the record, I like you too."

Damian comes home that afternoon with a smile on his face and if he saw Richard and Cassandra giving each other a fist bump, he doesn't say anything.

[pablitogavii]

Protecting her

Life with Pablo Gavi, the boy everyone adores, and I hate with all my passion not for any particular reason. I actually tried making peace with him the moment I stepped foot into his house at the beginning of my exchange program.

I tried to be nice, to even become his friend but he would always push me away and find some reason to fight me. Even Aurora and his parents tried to make us like each other but it didn't work so I just deiced to stay out his way..somehow that didn't stop him to sabotage me every step of the way all the freaking time!

leo: look at what your brother did to me! boy is a delinquent! I can't do this anymore Y/n..I'm sorry.

There was a picture attached of my soon to become boyfriend with bruised eye and busted lip. Did Pablo really did this just so Leo dumps me knowing it would spite me!?

I heard stumbling and rushed towards the front door to comfort Pablo about this. I was done staying on the sidelines and letting him do whatever he pleased just because I am guest at this house..this is MY life he was messing with for his own amusement!

"Why did you do it!? Tell me he said something to provoke you? Tell me you weren't just trying to spite me by doing this Pablo.." I said but he completely ignored me, like I was invisible, unimportant and that drove me mad.

"No! You're going to start listening to me! WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO LEO!!??" I said pushing him against the wall with all my strenght which was not possible unless he let me do it.

"Hm..or what if I don't listen chiqui? What will you do to me precious..huh??" he pushed back and I needed up glued on the wall in the matter of seconds. I gulped..he was so close..and I was no longer angry at him..I was tired of this whole "hate" thing.

"I'm tired of this Pablo..just leave me alone!" I said trying to push him but he wouldn't budge looking down at my face like he was lost in thought. I would give up everything ot know what he was thinking right now.

"P..please.." I was close to tears yet again being dumped not to mention that all my "friends" here only hang out with me thinking they will get to meet my new "brother"..I just wanted to be left alone by everyone especially Pablo Gavi who made this whole trip horrible!

"Fine.." he moved and i walked away not knowing that something in him broke seeing me so sad in front of him knowing he was the reason for it.

I was crying rather loudly knowing his parents and Aurora are not here and Pablo probably didn't even care about it. I was very wrong since he was glued to my door listening to each sound until finally opening the door and walking closer to the bed.

"Stop crying.." he said and I realized that he was indeed there watching me, probably in amusement.

"Leave me alone asshole!" I yelled feeling the bed move as he laid behind me making my whole body contract especially when his strong arms wrapped around my body..what was this nervousness and why did it feel so good to be held by him!?

"Please stop crying...if you like Leo that much I'll stay away.." he said while his hands were tracing invisible shapes on my bare skin making shivers moving down my spine and make me breathless. I truly didn't care that deeply for Leo..I almost cared more how it was angering Pablo..how I finally gotten some type of reaction out of him. I slowly moved turning around in his embrace to face him.

"It's not about Leo..it's about you..why can't you just stop hating me!?" I spoke my hand moving to his face caressing it gently and he let me do it for a few moments closing his eyes looking like he was enjoying it..maybe Pablo felt something for me..maybe I did for him too..maybe that's this tension between us..maybe it's love?

"Because you're annoying!" he pulled away and that gentle caring Pablo vanished in a matter of a second and he was back to being hateful asshole..he only wanted to feel in control and I gave him the chance..like an idiot..thinking he was genuine.

Quickly, he was out of my room returning to his crying himself to sleep..he was a coward to speak about his emotions..because I am not permanent..I will leave him soon and he couldn't afford to get attached.

Weeks went by and I couldn't sleep without imaging those strong arms wrapped around me. Leo asked me to try again but I rejected him..I couldn't stop thinking about my "gentle" Pablo wondering if that was his true nature..I wanted to get to him again..to feel that way again..to understand him.

"Are you ready hermanita?" Aurora said and I met her outside as she was my ride to the stadium for El Classico. I rarely went to his games thinking he would hate me there, but today I wore his jersey and went with the rest of his friends with pride. I wanted him to look me in the ye and tell me hates me if he does so much!

y.n.bebe

Rora and me at #ElClassico ❤️❤️

comentarios:

gvirafans: with Gavi jersey👀

aurorapaezg: hermanitaa💗

belengavira: pretty girls ❤️❤️

pablogavi: ❤️

I saw his comment..he probably did it because people would talk if he didn't..but a heart..it felt special..and made me even more determined to get close to him again.

During the game, Gavi was comeptlely focused as always wanting to win against the biggest enemy. Barca was better but it was frustrating that no ball would finally enter the goal..and time was running out till end of first half.

"I saw that new hermanita of yours..hmm..the things I'd do to her body" Vini provoked and Gavi lost it kicking the ball into the audience and walking towards him while everyone pushed him backwards and referee showed him a red card.

"Say that again hijo de puta!? Let me hear you say it again!" Pablo was not stopping until Xavi himself pulled him away from the pitch giving him a whole lecture about being more mature player.

"It was a good game hermano" Aurora said when we met with Pablo since Barça still ended up winning. Pablo was still heated and seeing me there wasn't helping.

"It's all her fault!" he said pointing at me in front of everyone and I looked away sadly..he was trying to hate me so I give up but I'm not giving up that easily because i know what I felt that night is real!

"Leave her alone! She did nothing wrong!" Aurora tried defending me but I was done being silent walking towards him bravely.

"Let's leave them alone.." Pablo's guy friends said and everyone left as the two of us stood there across from each other not saying a single word. Two can play this stupid game Gavi!

"What did I do to you huh!? Why don't you admit that you don't actually hate me Pablo?? I know you don't.." I said touching his sweaty jersey but he pulled away quickly like he was scared..

"Don't touch me!" he yelled expecting me to turn away and run but I moved closer again.

"Why? What are you sacred of when I touch you huh?"I said once again touching his chest and this time he didn't move staring at my lips longingly.

"Chiqui don't.." he whispered when I moved closer feeling my cheeks blush at the new nickname he chose..the feeling was back and I didn't want to lose it.

"Why?" I asked touching his face and again he closed his eyes as his hands wrapped around my waist pulling me even closer as our chests touched.

"B..because I won't be able to hold myself back" he whispered as we both opened around eyes looking into each other.

"P..Pablo.." I said breathlessly moving even closer but then Leo's familiar voice interrupted our little moment and Pablo pulled away angrily.

"Please let's talk Y/n..about us" Leo said and I internally cursed seeing Pablo's disappointed look as he just walked away without a word..freaking great!

"Is she coming?" Aurora asked

"She has another ride" Pablo said annoyingly reminding himself why he put up a wall..last thing he needed is to get hurt by a girl right now.

"No! I don't!" I said rushing after them after telling Leo I was done with him and sitting in the backseat next to Pablo whose jaw was clenching and he was clearly angry.

"He understood that it's over.." I whispered to Pablo but he was unfazed..once again like he didn't care. Here we go again!

"I don't care!" he whispered back before going on his phone as I sighed loudly besides him.

That night I couldn't sleep..I couldn't have him mad at me anymore..I did maybe the stupidest thing in the world walking to his room in the middle of the night. Luckily he was awake..

"P..Pablo.." I said and he turned around sitting in his bed with a surprised look on his face.

"Go away!" he said but I moved closer standing in front of him.

"I'm not going anywhere..I know why you hit Leo, he told me what he said to his friend and that you heard him" I said and Pablo looked up with raised eyebrows.

"He said you're alone and he can get with you in a week..and I showed him you're NOT alone" Pablo said and I smiled nodding my head and touching his hair as he looked up at me.

"And Vini?" I asked moving my hand down to his face while he looked at me finally putting down his guard and being vulnerable once again.

"Don't talk to me about that disgusting hijo de puta!" he said angrily and I knew he must have said something about me on the pitch..something that didn't sit right with Pablo and he needed to protect me..something you don't do for a person you "hate".

"Don't get angry.." I said and he nodded feeling more sad than angry while his hands snaked around my waist and he pulled me in kissing my stomach over my dress and I breathed heavily.

"I can't stop hating you chiqui.."he spoke into my stomach and I sighed raising his chin up and moving to sit on his lap.

"Why Pablo?" he said moving his hair back and he leaned into my touch as his face went into my neck and he started kissing my skin passionately.

"Because you're leaving me so soon..and I don't want to lose someone I love so much.."he finally said what's been on his mind for awhile and I felt my heart banging against my chest.

"So you decided to hate me? Why didn't you just ask me to stay with you??" I said with a smile and he was surprised to hear me say those words looking up into my eyes hopefully.

"And would you stay for me chiqui?" he said while I held his face and his hands tightly held onto my waist.

"Hmm it depends.." I said smirking moving in and he gulped once again looking at my lips longingly and I smiled.

"On what chiqui??"he smirked and I blushed to scared to tell him what I wanted right now..I just wanted him to finally kiss me.

"Hm..let me guess then" he held my face pulling me in and kissing my lips hungrily making me breathless but never happier. Then he pulled away..and I wanted to cry..I was so tired of these games and I just wanted to be with him!

"Please don't push me away again..please" i latched onto his shoulder and he smiled kissing the top of my forehead before pulling me in bed with him letting me lay my head on his strong chest.

"I'm never letting you go again precious.." he said as I looked up kissing him again as we continued to make out pulling onto each others clothes int he heat of the moment...

[sweetbans29]

Meatball (Photography AU)- CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader (lowkey Meatball)

Photography

Summary: 3 interactions between Caitlin and Meatball - your cat, Photography AU

Warnings: I don't even know how to warn you for this... oh and there is one curse word

Word Count: 2.5k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: Meatball supremacy.

one. stare.

"Do you have to go?" Caitlin says not wanting to release you from her hold.

"Yes, I do this invitational every year, you know that," you say referring to you leaving to go photograph the Nike Nationals. It had been in both of your calendars for weeks and Caitlin has refused to acknowledge it.

"Ya but wouldn't it just be better to stay here and cuddle with me the whole time," Caitlin counters not knowing how she is expected to sleep without you next to her.

If there was one thing that grew since the world found out about your relationship with Caitlin, it was Caitlin's constant need to be near you. She was a level 5 clinger and knew it. There weren't many people who didn't know it, you being an expert in the matter. If it were anyone else, you would have major issues and most likely would have ended the relationship a long time ago. But Caitlin was different. Her need to be near you wasn't suffocating. It wasn't the type of clingy that kept you at attached to her hip, but it was the need to know you are always around or near her.

Like when there is a game, she doesn't need to have eyes on you at all times, doesn't even need to talk to your before, during or after. She just needs to know that you are in the same building as her. That you are in the vicinity.

This is why she is trying to get you to stay with her rather than go to Chicago for Nike Nationals - she had to stay and practice while you flew somewhere she wasn't.

"I will be back before you know it," you tell her as you bring your backpack out to your suitcase and double check you have everything you need.

Caitlin takes on a look of defeat knowing she will be sleeping alone for the next two nights.

"Hey," you say coming face her. "You will be okay."

"Haven't slept without you in months," she mutters, her head plopped down on your shoulder. Your arms come to wrap around your 6 foot child and you rub her back. Caitlin is slouched just a smidge and you can't help but love how much she loves you.

"You can cuddle up with Meatball, he is a great second to me," you say joking and you feel Caitlin groan. Meatball, as if he heard you talking about him (he did), comes to the door to see what is going on.

You part from Caitlin and lean down to pick him up, he purrs instantly.

"Right Meatball? You will take good care of my Caity babe while I'm gone won't you?" You say to the cat as you give him a few last pets before heading out the door.

Meatball gives you little head-butts and you give him several kisses.

"See babe, you will be very well taken care of. You won't even know I am gone," you say trying to cheer her up. But by the look on her face, you can tell you have just annoyed her.

Putting Meatball back on the ground you give Caitlin one last hug and head out the door. Caitlin is forced to look at Meatball after you leave and he just walks away, going to do his own thing.

That night Caitlin can't sleep, she is tossing and turning like no other. It gets to the point where she gets up and goes to watch something on the couch.

It is not that she wasn't tired, the girl was exhausted. When she looks at the clock and realizes that it is 3AM, she makes her way back to her bed.

Caitlin sleeps maybe 3 hours before needing to get up to go to practice. When she gets there the whole team mentions how tired she looks which only aggravates her more. She single-handedly had one of the worst practices she has ever had and has to go one more night without you.

When she gets back to the apartment, Meatball meets her at the door. When he realizes it isn't you, he walks away leaving Caitlin alone.

"Trust me, I don't want to see you either," Caitlin says to the cat.

That night Caitlin is yet again tossing and turning. She starts to feel like she is going crazy from exhaustion and feels tears form in her eyes. Right before they fall she feels movement on the bed.

Her head whips up as she sees Meatball making his way towards her. Cait groans and throws her head back into her pillow.

'Of course it's the fucking cat,' Caitlin thinks to herself.

Meatball makes his way to Caitlin. He is hesitant at first, almost as if he doesn't want to be there. Once he reaches Caitlins stomach, he puts one paw on it - testing the waters. When Caitlin doesn't move, he proceeds to put both of his front paws on her stomach and begins kneading.

"Meatloaf, stop," she says tried and frustrated.

The cat stops for a second and looks Caitlin directly in the eye as a tear finally escapes. Meatball then proceeds to walk onto Caitlin's midsection - moving around before loafing right in the middle of her stomach.

Caitlin doesn't know what to do as she stares directly into Meatball's eyes. Meatball is staring right back at her. After about a minute of staring at one another, Meatball gives Caitlin one slow blink before closing his eyes. It is as if saying, 'You aren't my first choice but both of our favorite human is not here so you will have to do'.

After a moment, Caitlin feels herself calm down as her eyes begin to feel heavy, sleep finally overtaking her.

The next morning, Caitlin wakes up slowly. She turns over reaching for you then remembers you are not home. When she turns all the way over, she is met with Meatball sprawled out on your side of the bed - the events of the night before flooding back to her.

"Nobody has to know about this," Caitlin says as she brings her hand up to pet Meatball. It is then and there that they make an agreement to never speak of that night again - really it was Caitlin saying she is never going to speak of it because Meatball can't talk...because he is a cat.

two. hair ties.

"Hey babe, have you seen any of my hair ties? I swear I just bought some," Caitlin says as she comes out from the bathroom.

"I thought you had one on the counter in there?" You ask, seeing it that morning.

"I thought so too but it isn't there," she says. "Are you using it?"

You shake your head no.

"What the heck, I literally just bought a pack and I don't know where half of them went.

Over the next couple of weeks, Caitlin feels like she is going insane. One after another, Caitlin's hair ties go missing. It has gotten to the point where she feels like she needs to search every inch of the apartment and that is exactly what she does.

It is an off day for her and instead of going out and doing something fun like you had wanted, Caitlin was determined to figure out what was happening will all of her hair ties. You being denied the fun day, want nothing to do with her search.

Caitlin begins by checking everywhere in the bathroom. She looks in all the cabinets and drawers but comes up empty handed. Room by room, Caitlin searches every inch. That is until she gets to the living room to see Meatball loafing on the couch, watching Caitlin tear up their apartment.

Caitlin calls your name and you come out from the bedroom.

"What?" you say and see Caitlin and Meatball in a stare down. You laugh at the sight.

"Where are they?" Caitlin asks the cat as if he can respond.

"Babe, Meatball isn't going to respond to you," you say as you go to the kitchen and take this opportunity of you being up to grab a snack.

"This fur-devil is the one who has been taking all my hair ties, I know it. Where are they?" Caitlin asks again. Meatball doesn't budge.

It then dawns on Cait - under the couch. She makes a quick move to being to push the couch from its home and is met with dozens of black hair ties. Your eyes widen at the sight.

"Ahhha!" Caitlin yells causing Meatball to jump off the couch. "You little menace!"

Caitlin is now going after Meatball who runs away from her. He runs right to you and you pick him up, giving him scratchies.

"Do not love on the enemy," Caitlin says coming to grab Meatball. You stop her.

"Don't you dare hurt my child," you say kissing Meatballs head and he looks at Caitlin as if he knows he has won.

"You can not seriously be picking a cat over me right now," Caitlin says in disbelief.

"You had the day off today and the choice to go out and have a fun day with me and you chose to stay here and go on a manhunt for something that costs less than a coffee. You chose this," you say taking Meatball back to your bedroom.

"Babe, it has been driving me crazy for weeks," Caitlin says in defense.

"And this is one of the first days you have had off in weeks," you counter.

Caitlin knows there is no way she is winning this battle so she lets it go. She gives you space as she collects all the contents from under the couch. She knows she needs to salvage the day and decides to make dinner reservations at your favorite restaurant.

She takes you out later that night and the two of you have a great time. You thank her for saving the day as the two of you head back to the apartment. As the two of you get ready for bed, you ask Caitlin for a hair tie.

"There is one on the counter," she says from bed.

"No there isn't," you say looking everywhere but not seeing one.

"I just put it there for you before I got in bed," she says. You look around but don't see it.

Meatball walks in and sits in the doorway. You looks down at him and shake your head knowing that your fur-baby was about to start another war.

three. you're okay.

You and Caitlin are home with your 8 month old baby girl. The two of you decided that Caitlin shouldn't take the season off as you were the one to carry your first. It had been a wild ride but each bump in the road the two of you took together.

That is how you ended up on the couch with Cait watching your little one laid out on the floor.

"We did a pretty good job didn't we," you say watching Maya.

"We did," Caitlin says kissing your head.

The two of you watch Maya as you see Meatball walk over and stop about 3 feet from your daughter.

"Meatball, don't you think about it," Caitlin says as he sits and watches Maya just like you and CC are. Meatball licks one of his paws as he looks up at you. Caitlin is shaking her head no and he lays down.

"He is going to give me a heart attack," Caitlin says. You laugh.

"Why is that?" You say still laughing.

"Because he is going to do something to Maya," she says.

"Meatball is a loaf of sweetness, he is not going to do anything to hurt Maya," you say. Maya is now reaching her hand out to Meatball and opening and closing her hand. It is as if she wants to pet Meatball but doesn't know how to do that.

"I don't know," Caitlin says as she watches Meatball inch closer towards Maya.

"Okay that is close enough," Caitlin says and Meatball looks up at her with unamused eyes.

"He is fine," you say and Caitlin doesn't like it. She gets up and moves Meatball away from Maya.

"Do you feel better?" You ask as Caitlin picks Maya up and brings her to you on the couch.

"Much," Caitlin says.

Maya smiles when she sees you.

The next time Caitlin has a day off the three of you go out in the morning for breakfast. When you get home, it is time for you to put Maya down for a nap and she is just not having it.

"Baby, you need to sleep my love," you say as you rock her back and forth trying to get her to a spot where you can put her down and she won't cry immediately. It takes you longer than you want but you finally get her down in her crib. What you didn't see was Meatball chilling on the rocker in the corner of the room.

When you close the door and walk out to Caitlin, you fall on the couch in defeat.

"She is so fussy right now," you say, closing your eyes. Caitlin moves you so you are leaning up against her and she holds you.

"I know baby," Caitlin says. "It won't be like this forever, she is just teething."

"I know, but it is so draining," you say.

Caitlin kisses the top of your head when the two of you hear Maya crying on the baby monitor.

"I got her," Cait says as she moves you a little to get up.

Caitlin makes her way to Maya's room as slowly opens the door. She is a little confused when she doesn't here any crying and slowly makes her way over to her daughter. Looking into the crib she is surprised.

Laying right next to Maya is Meatball. He is not overwhelming her like Caitlin has been so afraid of but is sitting at a comfortable distance while Maya's hand is holding his outstretched paw.

"Meatball, what are you doing in here?" Caitlin whispers.

He looks up at her and without saying (because he is a cat) gives Caitlin the 'I am taking care of our child'.

Caitlin's eyes drift to Maya and she is fast asleep. She looks back at Meatball.

"You're okay," Caitlin says to the cat. It is in this moment that Caitlin shifts her idea of what Meatball is. For so long she has looked as Meatball as competition for your attention or as a pest that bugs her when she doesn't ask for it. But thinking back to when Meatball was there for Caitlin when you were out of town and she couldn't to sleep to now seeing how he is comforting Maya when she is fussy and can't sleep. It is the first time that she really sees the value that Meatball holds in the family.

AN: I love Meatball and NO ONE will ever change my mind. Meatball for life! Let me know all of your Meatball thoughts. And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[verycoolusername1]

My Honey Bee

Summary: In which you were a dream came true in the eyes of Luke Hughes.

Track 7 of short n' sweet - espresso

Luke Hughes x gn!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warning: mentions of underage drinking(not reader and luke), terrible flirting(I'm very single, cut me some slack)

A/N: Ehehehehehe Espresso just be stuck in my head whenever I listen to it, so enjoy this(and a massive ego boost that I did not plan for) :)

If you catch my shadow and bone reference, I love you tons.

Luke has been at the bar for two hours now, or at least Luke thinks he has. He's been glancing at you since the team got there, celebrating their win. When he saw you walk through the doors, he swore his heart stopped with his breath caught in his throat.

The team were immerse in their conversation till Dougie noticed Luke staring off into the distance.

"Looks like someone caught Lukey boy's attention." He whispered to the others.

"Hey, Lukey boy! You good?" Jack nudged his shoulder.

Luke pulled his eyes away from you and looked back at his team, who were all staring at him.

"Hm yeah yeah I'm fine." Luke muttered. "Fine."

"I don't think so." Nico pointed out.

"Yeah, you've been eyeing this stranger all night. Just go and talk to them." Jack urged.

Luke's eyes widened as he looked at his brother then the rest of their team all nodding their head.

"What? Are you insane?" Luke exclaimed. "I couldn't, no!"

"You need to have more faith in yourself. Just go to them and be yourself." Nico encouraged.

"Easy for you to say." Luke rolls his eyes.

"That's because it is easy." Jack chuckled.

Luke sighed as he looked back to where he last saw you, and when you weren't there, he swore he was dying. That was until he felt a tap on his shoulder.

Luke turned around, and his breath got stuck in his throat. It was you, you was standing right in front of him. You looked pretty, beautiful, gorgeous even. There wasn't a single word Luke could use to describe you. You were just all of them combined.

"Hi," you said warmly, Luke swore he was melting.

He sat there staring into your eyes, hearing the snickers of some of his team before he realized he needed to reply.

"H-Hi," Luke stammered, clearing his throat.

You chuckled at his awkwardness before offering your hand.

"Want a drink?" You gestured to the bar where you had been sitting prior.

"I would love to!" He replied rather quickly. "I just- uh can't drink yet."

"I figured." You slowly started to smile. "I was just gonna get us some water."

Luke's face flushed in embarrassment. "Right then uh yeah let's go."

Luke shakily took your hand, and you led the two of you to the bar where you sat next to each other.

You ordered two glasses of water before a silence was laid upon you two.

Luke spoke up. "I'm sorry."

You turned your head to him in confusion, and he noticed that and continued.

"For tonight." He clarifies. "I've been watching you all night, I just couldn't help myself. You were just so captivating- wait no that sounds creepy. I swear I'm not a stalker-"

You had started to laugh. He knew instantly he wanted to bottle up the sound and keep it with him wherever he went. One question came to mind, Why were you laughing?

"What-what's so funny? I'm apologizing for being weird and you're laughing." Luke looked at you in surprise.

"Sorry, sorry it's just-" You calmed down. "I know you have been. It was endearing."

"Wait so you aren't creeped out?" Luke asked.

"Why do you think I went to you and not any of your friends?" You sipped on your drink.

Luke stayed silent, studying your question.

"You're- You're into me?" He spoke in a low whisper.

"What would you do if I was?" You replied in the same tone.

"I would ask for your number and most definitely your name." Luke chuckled. "I'm Luke."

"Y/N." You took Luke's phone and typed your number in and sent a text.

"That's a nice name." Luke said before realizing he said that aloud. "Sorry! I thought I said that in my head. Gosh why am I so stupid-"

You kissed him on his cheek, caughting him off guard. Your lips felt soft against his face, he loved the feeling. He loved your touch. He wanted more- He craved it.

[cryptidghostgirl]

Loving You (Alastor x Gn!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Description: Valentines day special :) How Y/n and Alastor met and fell in love.

Warnings: Cannibalism, cannon levels of violence and gore and the like. Gender neutral reader.

Word Count: 2,686

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N I promise I am getting to requests, I just wanted to write something cute and fluffy for Valentine's Day :)

Loving Alastor was like dancing for Y/n. It was something they did by nature. There had never been a period of having to learn and they didn’t have to be good at it, they just had to try. Sure, he could be mean. He could be quick to anger and cruel but, so could everyone. It was worth it in their mind. He was wonderful enough that all the bad was more than manageable.

Alastor had not had the same experience when it came to Y/n. They were nothing if not stubborn and from the moment he met them, Alastor didn’t really know what to do with them. He had tried all the usual tricks: getting them to make a deal, threatening to put their voice in his next broadcast, the usual things that normally worked quite well. Y/n had just brushed them all off with a light hearted laugh as if each and every one of them had been some poorly planned joke on his part.

When he had realized none of his normal tricks were going to work, Alastor had tried to avoid the strange demon. He had done everything he could to stop seeing Y/n save for out right murdering them. While normally that would be an option, perhaps the best option, something about the way they thought it was all a joke just took the entertainment right out of it for Alastor. It was no fun if they weren’t scared and Y/n seemed like the type of person who’d keep laughing until the very end. He was sure their murder would just wind up being unsatisfying, maybe even vaguely off putting. It just wasn’t worth it in his mind.

Y/n on the other hand, had taken quite the liking to the feared Radio Demon and his straight edged sense of humor. Of course, they’d heard the stories about him. If anyone had asked them the truth back in those days, they would have admitted it was all an act. That secretly, beneath it all, the were scared of Alastor, that they were just trying to save face. The thing was that while he did freak them out a bit, send the odd shiver down their spine with his grin, they also found him intriguing. Y/n, like any demon, liked being entertained and Alastor? Well, he was the most entertaining thing they’d come across in years.

They had tracked him down all over the rings of Hell, there was no escape. Everywhere Alastor turned, he was met with their kind and oddly appealing face. At last, he had relented. Giving in to Y/n’s persistence, the two entered into a mildly uneasy contract of friendship.

They were his antithesis in every sense of the word. Where Alastor was prim and proper, put together and always well dressed Y/n was rather wild and undone. Where he had nearly perfect manners even when feasting on the flesh of unsuspecting demons, Y/n always seemed just slightly out of their depth. Somehow, they also seemed to always end up on top. It irritated Alastor in a way. He worked hard for his image, to get what he had. Y/n just seemed to stumble into their fortune, winning because they were too hard headed to do anything else rather than because they particularly deserved it.

It was a loose relationship they had. The occasional run in, the once in a while team up against someone neither of them liked. Not enemies, but not quite anything else either. An uncomfortable and confusing middle ground. Alastor liked it that way, he kept it that way. If Y/n was a distant facet of his life, then things didn't have to be confusing. Things could be normal and alright and under his control, just how he liked them.

It was the day Alastor walked in on them in his library that his opinion began to shift. Y/n had broken in, and inelegantly at that. The glass of one of the windows was completely gone, shattered in unrecognizable shards across the floor. He was about to yell, to attack them even, as he rounded the sofa they were lounging on. That was when he realized that the book they had pulled from his shelf was in Latin. He had stopped, staring at them in mild surprise. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat that they even seemed to notice he was there.

“You broke my window.” he had said, crossing his arms and tapping his foot.

“Yeah, sorry.” Y/n waved him off, barely looking up from their book, “Can you remind me what gravidis means?”

“Gravidis?” Alastor repeated after a moment, taken aback as always by their casual manner of being.

“Yeah.” they sighed, at last letting the book fall face up into their lap as they met Alastor’s eyes, “You don’t have a dictionary in here and know it is an adjective. I remember it meaning pregnant? But this is Thyestes, famously known as Seneca’s play without women so it can’t be. That doesn’t make sense, I just can’t think of what else it could be.”

“I didn’t know you knew Latin.”

“So?” Y/n had shrugged, raising the book to their eyes once again, “You don’t know a lot about me. Just cause I know how to have fun doesn’t mean I’m stupid. Gravidis. Help me. Now."

They were silent for a moment. Y/n rolled their eyes.

"Please.”

“It can also mean laden down, heavy, things such as that I believe.”

They carefully examined the words on the page, their mouth moving silently as they read. Suddenly, their eyes went wide, a smile breaking its way across their face.

“Oh my gosh wait, Seneca was so smart." they had exclaimed, barely looking up at Alastor, "He’s full of his children, laden down or whatever, because he eats them but it’s a perversion of pregnancy so that’s why Seneca used gravidis. I love him so much!! That’s literally such an insane move to pull.”

Yes, that had been the first thing. The first event to occur that caused the switch to flip in Alastor's head, made him stop seeing Y/n as so much of an irritation and rather more as an object of curiosity. Still, he did not seek them out. Still, he kept their conversations short and to the point. That was until the second major event occurred.

A few weeks later, Alastor was visiting Rosie in Cannibal Town. The pair were quietly having tea in the back room of her shop, catching up and enjoying one another's company. It had been quiet and pleasant. That was, until there was a knock at the door.

Alastor could picture it like it had happened yesterday. Rosie had gently placed her cup and saucer on the table, calling for the person to enter. It had been one of her employees, shaking in the doorway in fear of the pair of overlords. He had announced that there was a guest and in response to Rosie's furrowed brow, Y/n had peered out from behind the demon with a little wave.

Rosie had lit up immediately, getting to her feet and pulling the younger demon into her arms. Y/n had sighed, pretending to be irritated by the affection. Alastor could have sworn he caught a smile as they at last freed themself from Rosie's grip and sat down lazily on the couch.

"Y/n, dearest, I don't believe you've met Alastor. He is one of my oldest friends."

Y/n had shot Alastor a menacing look, halfway between a joke and a challenge.

"Oh we've crossed paths once or twice." they had hummed, grabbing a finger from the box on the table and popping it into their mouth.

Alastor rubbed his temples in irritation, sighing deeply.

"You broke into my house three weeks ago. I would not call that crossing paths."

Rosie looked between the pair for a moment in surprise before she broke out into peels of laughter. Alastor looked up, confused at the reaction as Rosie calmed herself. She took a deep breath, a hand to her chest.

"I should have known." she smiled, "You two would be close."

Y/n and Alastor had shared a look.

"So, how do you two know one another?" he asked after a tense moment.

Rosie smiled, grabbing Y/n's hand in one of her own and rubbing their knuckles gently with her thumb.

"Y/n here is my favorite protege."

"What?" Alastor asked in utter disbelief.

"Yep." Y/n nodded with a smile, "Rosie took me under her wing when I first arrived. She's a true peach."

It didn't take much time after that for Y/n to realize that the nature of their interest in Alastor was maybe not so innocent after all. They came to terms with the fact that it was something more that mild curiosity, a thirst for entertainment, with relative ease. It was just who they were. Of course it made sense the dangerous demon with a quick wit and sharp teeth would be the object of their affection.

Alastor on the other hand had barley come to terms with the fact that Y/n might be worth his time in any capacity when a few months later, he walked in on them murdering another demon. He had heard a noise from a nearby ally when taking an after dinner stroll. His sense of intrigue getting the better of him, Alastor had turned down it.

At the end of the dead end ally were a pair of demons. One was sitting on the other, hunched over it and tearing at it's skin with their elongated claws. Sensing they were no longer alone, they sat straight up and turned their wide eyes to the ally's entrance.

That was when Alastor had realized two things. One, the demon who had been attacking the other demon was, in fact, Y/n. They were soaked in someone else's blood, their hair wilder than normal and their eyes wide with surprise. They smiled, their teeth sharp points.

"Alastor!" They happily called to him, "Want some?"

That was when he realized the second thing: Y/n was beautiful. He looked away immediately, quickly turning his back on the scene as he felt his cheeks grow warm.

"No." he hurriedly called over his shoulder, "I wouldn't want to spoil your fun."

He heard the rustling of fabric as Y/n stood from the demon and walked over to him. Taking a deep breath, Alastor turned to them as they stopped beside him. Y/n shrugged casually.

"I'm not really hungry, I just was bored. You wouldn't be spoiling anything."

For Alastor, loving Y/n was like a disease. It was a diagnosis, the doctor refused to meet his eyes when he broke the news. It was terminal, his death hinged on them.

He spoke to Rosie. She was far from the neutral party on the matter he desired but, Alastor didn't know where else to go. She had smiled brightly when he had revealed the truth of his confusion, made some comment about knowing it was going to happen sooner or later. From that point on, he and Y/n were inseparable. Somehow, they always managed to find their way to one another's sides.

They never said anything about it because they didn't need to. It was fundamental, they each felt the need from one another. The gentle touches were enough, the bright smiles, the lingering gazes. They both knew how the other felt just like they both knew that no matter what happened or how long they were apart, they would always wind up back together.

Y/n was not worried when Alastor disappeared. It wasn't the first time and they knew it wouldn't be the last. They knew he always ended up okay. It was, however, most certainly the longest time they'd spent without him since meeting the Radio Demon. When, seven years after his departure, they caught the familiar static of his voice through the radio, trashing Vox who had tried to fill Alastor's shoes in his absence, it didn't take long for Y/n to track him down.

They rang the bell to the Hazbin Hotel, looking fondly up at the radio tower that had been haphazardly added to the side of the building near the roof. There were some shouts, some quiet footsteps, and the door swung open. Standing behind it was none other than the princess of Hell herself, Charlie Morningstar.

"Hello, would you like to check in?" she asked with a bright and kind smile.

Y/n looked over her shoulder to the lobby. Sitting on the couch within were a handful of demons, some familiar and some not so much. They shifted their gaze back to Charlie as a smaller, gray demon missing an eye came up behind her.

"Is the Radio Demon here?" Y/n asked, clasping their hands expectantly before them as they rocked back and forth on their heels.

Charlie exchanged a sceptic look with the demon behind her.

"You're not here to attack him, are you?"

"Something like that." Y/n hummed in response.

Before any of them could say another word, Alastor pulled himself from the shadows behind Charlie and the other demon. Y/n's breath caught in their throat.

"I thought I heard someone at the door." he stated, eyes fixed on Charlie, "Is everything quite all right?"

"Yeah." Charlie replied after a moment, "I think so at least. They asked for you?"

As Charlie spoke, Y/n slipped past her, walking right up to Alastor. Vaggie grabbed her girlfriend's arm, drawing her attention to the situation at hand. Charlie stopped speaking, watching the pair of demons intently. Alastor looked down with wide eyes as Y/n stood their ground, their hands on their hips and a slightly irritated expression on their face.

“Hey. I’ve been looking for you.” they stated matter of factly.

“You found me.”

“You happy about that?”

It was the first time either of them had really addressed the reality of their emotional situation. It was the first time either had ever asked instead of just assuming. Alastor’s smile softened as he realized the great Y/n, awe inspiring demon, afraid of no one and nothing, was nervous. They looked away, their hands fiddling with the cuffs of their sleeves as they waited for him to answer the question.

“Of course I am.” Alastor hummed, grabbing their shoulder and pulling them into his chest, “Don’t be a fool.”

Gently, he wrapped his arms around their smaller form, holding them close. There was a delicacy to his movements, a fear to harm. Charlie watched in excitement. Surly if someone like the Radio Demon could treat someone with such care, such grace, such… love, surly that meant that even Alastor himself had a chance at redemption. His chance was rough around the edges. It had bruised knees, messy hair, and a crooked grin. His chance wore beat up old converse and was easy to excite.

“You’re the fool.” Y/n shot back, their voice muffled by the fabric of his coat as they slowly wrapped their arms around his waist in return.

“Oh yeah?” Alastor chuckled fondly, planting a soft kiss on the top of their head.

“Yeah.” Y/n nodded, lifting their head slightly so they could meet his eyes.

“And why is that?”

Y/n thought for a moment. Their cheeks flushed pink as they shrugged.

“I don’t know. You just are.”

Alastor chuckled lightly and released Y/n from his grip. They took a step back away from him but not before sliding one of their hands into one of his. They slotted together like they were cut from the same stone.

“Don’t disappear like that on me again, okay?”

“Even if I do, you’ll just find me again.”

“Yep.” Y/n nodded, “It’ll take more than seven years to get me off your back.”

Alastor squeezed their hand gently.

“I’ll remember that.”

[inky125]

Mary Linton and Jack Marston meeting in 1922

Okay but these are just my headcanons for the very improbable scenario that they end up bumping into each other in the future. / My headcanons for what they would do with their lives after the events of rdr/rdr2

(I'm going to explain them under the cut)

Okay so, starting with Jack:

I want to believe Jack lived a more or less normal life after killing Ross, successfully getting away with this one (1) murder, and having that as a skeleton in his closet. Not finding peace really, so the whole revenge thing doesn't fix his miserable life but he can go on to try to do something with his life. Gunslinging doesn't really have a place anymore here.

When the US joined WWI I know that boy DID NOT join the US Army, he would NEVER join the group that killed his dad, or make the same mistake as him and make a deal with the government. He would rather be jailed for dodging the draft, what will they do, threaten him with what? He has nothing to live for really, so they can't make him. I don't think he cares much if he gets shot (he has a like saying as much in rdr when he duels Ross).

After the whole jail thing he'd go back to a more or less normal life, I'd guess he would have to have a regular job and write whenever he's able (I want to believe that one Easter egg in GTA is canon...it is to me...), but I don't think he'd be able to make a living just from writing.

As for Mary, I always wondered why Mary was dressed the way she was during the credits cut scene in Rdr2. Because I'm guessing it takes place in 1907 (given that most cut scenes appear to happen at the same time more or less than the epilogue). But I wondered why Mary was dressing in black; I mean, during the Victorian era there were very specific mourning traditions, especially for women. Wearing black was pretty much a part of a social thing, you'd publicly mourn. The extension of your mourning would depend on who died and what was your relationship with them.

And here is the thing, Arthur had died 8 years ago by then, we could assume Mary had found out shortly after of his dead because newspapers in the Rdr2 universe love to brag whenever law enforcement/Pinkertons kill renown outlaws. (Even Arthur and Hosea get mentioned years later in some sort of article in 1907 too). And additionally, we know that Mary kept up with how the gang, especially Arthur, was doing through the news on the newspapers. So again, it wouldn't be crazy to assume she knew about Arthur's death back in 1899.

So then, why is she wearing a black dress to visit his grave in 1907?. Black is the color of mourning, but as far as I am aware (and correct me if I'm wrong) it was not required to visit a grave back in the day. So I like to headcanon Mary mourning Arthur like a widow, because widows would have to wear their black weeds for 2 years (there were different periods of mourning, for instance Mary's clothes could be classified under the 'half-mourning' type, meaning there has been at least 6 months since her loved one passed away, meaning she could now wear some jewelry, other colours, ect.

But here is a little extra, Queen Victoria popularized among some women the practice to never abandon their period of half mourning, and especially, keep wearing black the rest of their lives even if they move on, as a sign of love for their dead husband.

Mary and Arthur never got married, but I like to think Mary lived as a widow for him. Continuing with her life as normal, of course, but always having that bittersweet ache in her heart, dressing in black out of respect and love for him and the life they couldn't have. Even if she had wanted to move on from him after she realized they couldn't be together as Arthur wouldn't leave the gang, I think she would have folded if Arthur had gone after her (I mean she did re-initiate contact after they were supposed to never speak again), and I think she was still preparing herself emotionally when she heard the news that Arthur was dead, ironically not moving on from him.

She didn't remarry, Jamie made good money and maintained her, Mary knew the kind of life she didn't want and she could be respectable and old as a widow. Plus marrying someone new at her age would be a titanic task.

I think Mary kept her mother's brooch Arthur returned for her as her reminder of him, given that she returned the picture and the ring. In fact she's wearing it when she visits Arthur's grave in-game!. So I kept that

It just warms my heart to think of the very few people left who knew about the gang finding each other in usual ways. Maybe next time I'd do Sadie or Charles. I'm just a sucker for this kind of things