#i always thought roundabout was a way to say you were going on a car ride

[violetflowers55]

Hot & Cold - Chapter 7

Synopsis: You return with the team to Pokolistan, only to end up with the whole Pokolistani army hunting you. You and Phosphorus run together, killing soldiers and hiding in dumpsters. Winding up at a little girls house, you end up learning more about his past.

Notes: Slower chapter, no smut, just relationship building and a tiny bit of angst. Also I think next chapter will be the last one! Hoping to get it out by monday night at the latest.

CW: Violence and death, discussion of his past

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

Waller at least let you change out of your scratchy prison clothes before dragging you back to the tarmac. The rest of the team was already there waiting, except for Flag. A bit odd, but at least you wouldn’t have to deal with him banging on your door to wake you up again. The five of you loaded up into the plane and headed off to Pokolistan.

“Are you two ok?” Nina asked, “I saw what happened in the cafeteria.”

“More importantly, are you going to be able to fight with that thing wrapped around you arm?” The Bride said, pointing to Phosphorus’s injured arm.

“I’m touched by your concern,” he said sarcastically, “but I’m fine. More than fine really, just ask Y/N.”

“Hey!” you exclaimed, swatting at his leg. The Bride looked at you, putting the pieces together.

“Ugh, did not need to know that.”

“What? What did they-“ Nina asked before finally putting it together, “Oh, gross! How does that- how could you even- you know what, I don’t even want to know.”

You groaned, leaning your head back. Phosphorus laughed before returning to his magazine. A minute passed before The Bride spoke again.

“They want us to kill the princess”

“They want us to kill the person we just saved? Why?” you asked incredulously.

“Says it on a need to know basis.”

“And we don’t need to know,” Nina and The Bride finished. You bit your lip, pondering what possible reasons Waller could have for ordering the princess dead. Killing women randomly wasn’t really your thing.

“She must have a good reason, right?”

The Bride shrugged. “It’s one less human. That’s always a good reason.”

Unlike The Bride, you never saw the world through the lens of monsters versus humans. Maybe because most people didn’t know you were a monster until you had already decided to kill them. The more you thought about it, though, the more you started to see her point. No monster had ever hurt you the way humans had. Waller probably had a good reason for ordering you to kill the princess, but even if she didn’t, maybe The Bride was right.

The plane landed and you exited, only to pile into the car, getting squished between Nina and Phosphorus. It was a little hard to concentrate with his leg pressed against yours. As Alexi drove, he lightly brushed your thigh with his fingerprints. The lightness of his touch was comforting, reassuring.

Alexi’s phone rang. After a short conversation in Pokolistani, he hung up and changed directions, claiming there was traffic en route to the castle. The Bride looked back at you and Phosphorus, silently signaling to stay alert.

“What’s up Alexi?” The Bride asked as you got further and further away from the castle, “This isn’t- We’re leaving the city. The castle is that way.”

“Oh! It seems roundabout, but it’s good shortcut.”

She looked back at you and Phosphorus again. Something was up. Alexi pulled up to a chain-linked fence and stopped the car. He made up a lame excuse about the engine sounding funny, but a moment later, armored vehicles, choppers, and flying soldiers appeared in front of you.

“Damn it!” The Bride shouted.

“My men have fought and died for the princess. We are not going to let you kill her now,” he pointed a gun at the Bride’s head, “Stand down Bride. You-“

With a shout, Phosphorus cut him off, punching through the headrest and his skull. Blood squirted from his neck as his head toppled to the floor.

“What a shame. I liked that guy.”

Damn, why does he sound so sexy right after killing someone?

Preparing for a fight, you turned your skin to steel and preemptively readied your whip. The doors of the car swung open and Phosphorus pulled you out by your wrist. The two of you ran, dodging the hailstorm of bullets raining down on you. You ran through alleys until you ended up in one with a tank bearing down on you both. Phosphorus stripped his clothes off and handed them to you.

“I don’t think now’s really the time-“

“Dirty mind,” he teased, “Just watch.” He motioned to the tank to come to him.

Hot.

The gunmen atop fired at him, but Phosphorus exploded every bullet mid-air before they hit him. As the tank got closer, he roared, setting himself ablaze. The tank rolled over him, and his body cut through it like butter, flipping off the soldiers as they died. When the tank fully went through him, it exploded, illuminating him standing with his arms out wide.

HOT.

A lone soldier remained. He crawled towards you begging for his life. You smiled. Slipping off your boot, you pressed your foot in his face, slowly crushing his skull. His screams of agony were like music to your ears.

“Vicious. I like it,” Phosphorous remarked as he walked back over to you. Your cheeks flushed, and you knew it wasn’t because of the heat from the explosion.

A car with its sirens on passed on the street behind him. He redressed and grabbed your hand before running down more alleys. As the sun started to go down, you stopped by a dumpster.

“We can hide in here,” you whispered, pulling him into the dumpster and closing the lid.

It stunk. Something hard stuck your ass. The two of you were cramped together, folded in ways you didn’t know you could fold before. His body illuminated the darkness. You sat facing each other, your legs pressed together. Somehow, he made the stinky dumpster tolerable. He cocked his head to the side, looking at you, but said nothing. You didn’t either, knowing any sound could alert the soldiers.

The sounds of soldier footprints passed by the dumpster. Phosphorus gently lifted the lid to see two soldiers walking away and motioned for you to get out. You got out and saw both of you were littered with garbage. He gently picked the scraps off you before wiping away his own.

You continued moving and running until you reached a residential neighborhood. Helicopters flew overhead, using a spotlight to try to find you. Phosphorus darted to a house and burned through the doorknob, pulling you inside. Both of you left out a sigh of relief when the spotlight passed by the house. Looking around, you realized you were in some random family’s house.

Phosphorus stepped forward, inspecting their photos on the credenza. He picked up a photo of a man and a woman on their wedding day and stared at it, seemingly lost in thought. A little girl holding a blanket padded down the steps, standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“Phosphorous,” you whispered, trying to get his attention. He turned and looked at her.

“Gladen,” she said, her voice tiny and innocent, not caring about either of your appearances.

“Gladen? Hungry?” he asked.

She nodded and he headed towards the kitchen like he was in a trance. You followed, unsure of what he was doing. He rummaged through the cabinets until he found a bowl and a box of cereal. He poured her a bowl and sat across from her at the small dining table. The spoon clanged softly against the bowl as she ate.

“I really wish you wouldn’t’ve come out here. I don’t want to risk you telling anyone I was here,” he said to her. Worry that he was going to kill this little girl seeped into your bones.

“Alex, what are you doing?” you whispered again. He ignored you, transfixed by her.

“Skelet?” the girl said happily, pointing at him.

“Skelet. Yeah. Skeleton, that’s me.” he sounded tired, almost distraught.

“Priyatel skelet,” she continued, resting her head in her hand.

“Not sure what that means.”

She giggled and pulled her lips apart to show her teeth, imitating him. He let out a short laugh

“It looks like I’m smiling too. But I’m not.” You were starting to get very worried he was going to kill this girl.

“Alex, we should go,” you placed your hand on his shoulder, hoping physical contact would break him out of this weird trance.

He stood up silently and moved towards the back door. You followed, thankful this was finally ending. To your dismay, the girl followed him into the backyard too. She tugged on his pants and said something else to him in Pokolistan. He chuckled lightly and bent down, picking her up. He tossed her in the air and she spread her arms out like a plane. She shrieked and giggled; he laughed from real joy. You’d never seen him like this.

What the hell is he doing?

The back door slammed open. A man and a woman holding a bat stood there in shock. Noticing them, Phosphorus gently put the girl down. Still laughing, she ran into their arms

“Oh, I’m sorry, we were just…pretending to fly.”

You nervously smiled at the girl’s parents, trying to look non-threatening. Phosphorus stood up and straightened his coat.

“Would you folks mind telling us the way to the castle?”

Still in shock, the woman pointed towards it. Finally, you could leave. You headed in the direction she pointed, Phosphorus tailing behind you. Once you were safely in the woods, you spun on your heels to face him.

“What the hell was that?” you snapped, hands on your hips.

“What?” he asked. His voice was detached, like he was still back with that little girl.

“You and that girl - what the hell were thinking?!”

“I’m not doing this,” he groaned and tried to push past you, but you sidestepped to block him.

“You could’ve gotten us killed! Or captured! We’re about to go kill a princess, and I need to know where your head’s at, so yeah, we’re doing this.”

He paused, looking down at his shoes.

“She reminded me of my son,” he rasped, his voice full of pain.

“You-You have a son?” you gasped. You never would’ve imagined him as a father.

“Had. Had a son. And a wife.”

Your head spun. He had a wife? And a kid?

“Wha-“

“Rupert Thorne killed them,” he answered your incomplete question, “and then he tried to kill me. So I killed him and his whole family. And that little girl reminded me of them.”

He finally looked at you. Your mouth hung open in shock.

“So, can we go now?” he asked, irritated.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly, moving to touch his arms. You were sorry about his family and that you pushed him to tell you. All you wanted to do now was comfort him. He stepped back and your arms fell back to your sides.

“Let’s just go,” he mumbled, walking past you. You followed and silently prayed that he wouldn’t hold this against you.

At the top of the hill, you ran into Weasel, Nina, and The Bride. The castle loomed in front of you, the sun rising behind it.

“Let’s go kill a princess.”

[woso-dreamzzz]

Little Buddy

Arsenal Women x Teen!Reader

Summary: Three members of the team take you under their wing

"There you are!" Steph said as you pulled open the car door, slipping inside and immediately placing your hands in front of the heater," I thought you got lost!"

You rolled your eyes. "Ha, ha," You said dryly," I didn't hear my alarm go off."

"Didn't your parents wake you up?" Steph pulled off from the curb, turning down the music from the radio.

"Dad's on the early morning shift and Mum was on the night one, she's knocked out in bed," You replied. You dug through your bag to check that you'd brought everything.

Waking up with twenty missed calls from Steph and another one coming in was not exactly the nicest wake up calls - especially when it was paired with getting dressed and ready for the day in under five minutes.

You yawned slightly as you tugged your bag closed again, head moving to rest against the rest.

"There's breakfast and a drink in the back for you," Steph said as she turned onto a roundabout. "You look like you need it. Have you eaten yet?"

You gave her a deadpan look at you leaned toward the back and snatched up the brown paper baggy. "Well, seeing as you woke me up this morning. I'll let you guess."

Steph laughed as you practically attacked your breakfast wrap. "I didn't think I would get your sass this early."

"Thanks," You said brightly, your mouth full of food," Leah calls it my moody teenage hormones."

"Don't listen to Leah," Steph said as she turned another corner," She's just jealous that you're younger and fitter than her."

Your ride to the training grounds made you feel much better than when you woke up and by the time you and Steph pulled up, you were energised and ready.

"Mornin'," Katie said, getting out of her car at the same time you two were.

"Morning," You said brightly and she groaned.

"How can you have this much energy so early?" Katie looked annoyed but you knew she wasn't by the way that she threw an arm over your shoulder and steered you inside.

"Steph gave me food!"

"This wave of energy is recent," Steph assured her," I had to get her up this morning. Her alarm didn't go off."

Katie gave you a look. "You parents couldn't get you up?"

You gave her the same excuse as you gave Steph. "Besides," You continued," It's not really a big deal. Mum and Dad are always busy. I'm pretty self-sufficient."

"You're sixteen," Katie deadpanned.

You shrugged. "And? I'm doing better than most kids my age." You puffed out your chest in pride. "I have a job."

Katie laughed, ruffling your hair as you approached the locker room. "Look at you, superstar!" She said, a hint of teasing in her tone," A job?! Wow!"

"Stop teasing me!" You batted her hands away as she continued to knock you about. "I'm going to bring this up in therapy in a few years!"

She laughed at you again, knowing that your threat was meaningless, but still let you scamper off to your cubby to change.

As usual, Alessia was already there. She wasn't changed yet though, typing away on her phone. You leaned over to read what she was saying. "You spelt that wrong."

She rolled her eyes but corrected herself. "Anything else, grammar police?"

"Actually, yes." You dug through your bag and pulled out your school planner. "I have to go in tomorrow morning and I need someone to sign off on my schoolwork." You offered her a pen.

"Gladly!" Alessia signed with a flourish and you gladly took your school book back.

"What?! Why couldn't I sign?!" Steph sounded outraged.

You rolled your eyes as you pulled your training shirt over your head. "Because you don't know a thing about my schoolwork."

"That's a lie!" She said and you sent her a pointed look.

"Oh, yeah?" You challenged," What classes do I take? Hell, where even is my school?"

"I know your address, isn't that enough?"

"Not when I need a responsible adult to sign off on my work."

This seemed to get Katie's attention.

"I'm responsible!"

"Yeah, for more than half of the yellow cards we get," You said with a laugh.

"Alright, that's it!" She leapt across the changing room and got you into a headlock. A rough noogie was pressed onto your head and no matter how much you tried to get away, Katie wouldn't release you.

"Say you're sorry!"

"Never!"

You howled with laughter as you were suddenly shoved into Steph, who hoisted you over her shoulder like you were nothing but a sack of potatoes.

"Don't know what you're laughing about, Russo," Katie said," You're next!"

●～●～●～●～

You panted as a cross came in from Katie. You barely had any space but you still went for it.

Your foot kicked out and connected with the ball. You didn't try to watch it go in, more focussed with landing on your feet after your bicycle kick.

But suddenly, you were eating dirt.

A body crashed into yours, pushing the air from your lungs.

You were stunned for a moment before you felt more force on your back and then the pressure was released. You gasped for breath, groaning in pain. You could feel a pain and ache in your face.

A hand turned you over and you looked up into Alessia's eyes. She looked concerned and reached out to steady you, helping you sit up. She wiped at your cheek.

"That was a nasty fall," She said," How are you feeling?"

You didn't answer at first, still struggling to draw in the breath that had been forced out of you. You smacked your chest a few times as Alessia rubbed your back.

"Wh-What happened?" Your breathing was still shaky but you had enough in you to speak.

"Ouahabi tried to stop your kick," Lessi said," Crashed into you as you landed. You wiped out." She rubbed a bit of dirt from your cheek and you leaned away, the pain becoming worse when she touched you.

"Did I get the goal?"

Steph laughed as she jogged over, catching your last question. "Of course you did."

"Did it look cool?"

"Real cool."

Together, she and Lessi got you to your feet. With the dirt rubbed off your face, it became clear to both of them that there would be a nasty bruise on your cheek in a couple of minutes.

It seemed Katie came to the same conclusion because she squared up to Ouahabi without prompting, shoving the other woman back with force.

"You wanna have a scrap?!" She demanded," I'll have a scrap if you really want!" She looked like she was a second or two from getting another yellow card so you hurried over and took her hand.

She quietened for a moment and allowed you to drag her away.

"You should watch your back, Ouahabi," Steph warned as Katie tucked you under her arm and walked you back to your position.

"I think I can handle McCabe for another two minutes or so, Catley."

Alessia stepped forward. She was taller than Ouahabi put not by much so they were practically eye to eye. "She wasn't talking about Katie."

Across the pitch, Katie wiped at your cheek. "We'll get some ice on that as soon as its full time. You're gonna have quite the shiner."

"It'll look cool though."

[sim0nril3y]

Driving Worries

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Simon gets a first hand experience at your driving and is less than impressed Note: Set in 2014 Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), teasing, canon-typical swearing, very bad driving, very British driving.

Simon had begrudgingly agreed to joining you at a drink out over your friend’s house for the evening. In your own words it was one of your nicer friends, which made him a little worried about the rest of your friends. Regardless, if it would make you happy then Simon would join. Plus, you’d offered to drive so at least he could sit back and relax on the journey, or at least that was what he had thought…

The beginning of the journey was harrowing. There were multiple times that Simon had to remind you the speed limit, wave his hand apologetically to other vehicles you had pulled out on. All this whilst you happily sat beside him, either chatting away or humming along to the music. His sunshine girl. Fuck, she was gonna kill them both.

The way that Simon gripped at the handle above him as you drove a little too close to a parked car. His eyes flickered over as you continued to hum along happily to the radio seemingly unaware that you’d almost written-off your car along with the poor idiot who’d parked on the curb. “Turn this down a bit…” His fingers diligently rolled the sound down on your stereo as you frowned in his direction. “Eyes on the road.” He commanded, now that the radio was low, he could hear the gears churning, it made him visibly wince, allowing for it to continue thinking that maybe you might right the error before needing to be told, but it didn’t happen. “Think you’re in the wrong gear, love…” “Oh yeah…” You laughed with ease, changing the gear with a heavy sound.

As they approached a busy roundabout Simon wondered if he should just stare straight ahead and pray for the best, but the moment he glanced to his right and saw you about to pull out into two cars he had to stop it. Yanking up the hand break furiously you looked at him suddenly. “Who the fuck let you pass your test? Are you having a laugh? You could have killed us both.”

“What are you talking about?” Taking your foot off the clutch without taking it out of gear lead it to stall and you huffed. “Bloody hell. Look what you’ve made me do now…” “Good. Fuckin’ hell. Swap with me. Now.” He commanded in a rough voice. Unplugging his seat belt Simon rounded the car, angrily glaring at anyone backed-up behind them who dared to think about honking. You climbed over the centre console and took the passenger seat. “Kid, you fuckin’ terrify me…” Simon took a moment to roll back the seat from where it was uncomfortably close to the steering wheel.

You had the gall to laugh, pinching your brows together and saying. “I have no idea what I did wrong.” His hands gripped at the steering wheel and looked over to you for a second. “That is the most worrying thing…” A second later pulling out safely onto the roundabout and continuing the journey. “I always thought it would be going to war that would kill me, but I think it might actually be your driving that does it.”

Leaning over she pushed his shoulder gently. “Don’t say that.” She commanded softly, clearly the idea of him not being around was something she certainly wasn’t comfortable joking about. “Sorry.” He huffed, reaching over and squeezing her knee. “You scared me.” You scoffed and shook your head. “I’m serious. You fuckin’ really scared me. I can cope with being in danger, but not… not you.” He said, squeezing your knee again, feeling terror bubbling at the base of his spine.

The night with your friend and her partner hadn’t been as bad as Simon had been expecting, it was a nice evening so you’d had a little BBQ whilst sat in their back garden. They both seemed nice enough and Simon was just happy to get a little insight into your life outside of him.

A few paces in front of him you approached your call, pulling your keys from your purse and said. “I’ll drive-” In a second Simon snatched then from your hands and wrapped his arm around your waist to yank you firmly back against his warm body. “Absolutely fuckin’ not.” You laughed as he walked you forward pressed you against the car. “I value my life, but more important I value your life.” He pressed a kiss to the side of your face. “Get in.” He smacked your rear as he moved to the other side of the car.

Masterlist | Ask | 09-09-2023

[ohsohoney]

When it comes to love you're just as blinded.

Part Five

Eminem x Musician

Summary: It starts with a drunk embarrassing video, it spirals into something a whole lot more.

Note: Five! Posting in honour of the face-off. It's a long one again, just started and couldn't stop ngl. But it's pretty fluff filled! Brief warning though, TWD is mentioned here, there aren't any real spoilers but if you're a fan then you'll get what's going on!

| Set in 2014, just after the release of LP 2

taglist: @thelastemzy

Masterlist

I couldn’t quite help the way my mind wandered. Back to the diner. Back to Marcie’s words. Back to his smirk. Even as the conversation continued on in the car, Rosie laughing whilst she complained about the radio station that had been put on and Marshall flashing the pair of us funny looks in the rearview mirror. 

Most reasoned that you could tell a lot about a man by how they treated the people around them, not just their kin or the ones they worked closely with. But all people. And somehow, Em kept on surprising me in that regard. 

But maybe surprise wasn’t the best word to use, because it went without saying that his intentions were always pure. Even so, every time he did something I didn’t quite expect I found myself reeling a little further and watching him a whole lot more.

It hadn’t even been a full day and yet, I almost felt at home here in this city I hardly knew, with these people I’d only just recently met. And the entire concept left me waiting. Just waiting for the other shoe to drop, for something to go wrong. Because that was just the way I was wired.

“Sound good?”

I tuned back in at the sound of Marshall’s voice, snapping my gaze away from where it had been trailing out the back window and into the car. Rosie was smiling in the seat beside me, looking all excited, and so I blinked over towards the front seat to meet Marshall’s gaze in the tiny mirror.

“Sorry, I zoned out.” I apologised, blinking once more to try and push away my spiralling thoughts. “What did you say?”

Em took it in stride though, smirking at me before he eventually repeated himself, “Z reckons the park sounds like a good idea.”

Perking up at that, I could easily see why the girl had practically been bouncing in her seat, I peered between the two. “Has it got swings?”

Rosie nodded her head hastily in answer whilst her father just snorted, taking the next right at the end of the road instead of left. And that was that.

It felt strange to say, after having been in the states multiple times before, but everything I did I just kept on finding myself thinking about how it was my very first in America– as in, my first time in Detroit, my first time in a too big car, my first time at a diner. Now, it was my first time experiencing something as insignificant as a park.

It was a nice one though, just to drop that in there, not too shabby and practically empty aside from a far off dog walker in a bright yellow jacket and a couple of runners who were doing laps. 

Em had pulled the car into some sandy lot lined with white lines not too long after the decision had been settled and told us to get out once he’d parked, messing about with the meter whilst Rosie had urged me on.

I let the girl guide us, trying to admire the green grass and the trees that were still slowly changing with the seasons, whilst Z talked a mile a minute about how her soccer team used to meet there. I cringed internally at the use of the American term and vowed that if she ever came to visit London then I would take her out to see just how real football was played.

Marshall managed to catch up to us not long after, though he’d still been muttering about damn machines and dodgy government schemes. Which had me snorting to myself as I’d continue to spin Rosie on the roundabout, jumping on and off its edge to make the thing shake every so often.

The kid seemed to love it though, content to just lie in the middle and watch the sky above fall and swirl. Marshall appeared humoured by the whole ordeal too and had even taken a turn at jumping, landing with just enough weight to produce a loud boom that had Rosie screaming. She’d laughed wildly afterwards, hand over her heart to keep it from beating its way out of her chest.

Em and I watched her spin around some more before it slowed enough so that she could just jump on off, wanting to try her luck at the monkeybars, or ‘jungle gym’ as she’d called it. I chuckled quietly to myself, kicking out a foot to catch the roundabout’s edge to try and stop it completely. Marshall stuck near, watching as it slowly began to steady once more.

“Used to drag motorbikes in here when I was a kid.” I found myself telling him, eyes still stuck on the dragging metal as a memory flashed to the forefront of my mind. I felt Em shift and then caught the way his head then turned towards me from out of the corner of my eye. He waited. I wet my lower lip and felt myself smile, “Would lay ‘em down flat at the very edge here then rev it just enough so that the back wheels would start to make it spin. We would all be crowded in the centre, seven or so of us, clinging to the rails for dear life and screaming bloody murder.”

I glanced over at him then by chance and grinned at the way his brows had since lifted, then huffed out another laugh. 

“The thing would just keep spinning and spinning, until one of us found the courage to throw ourselves off. Or, you know, just yuck up.”

Marshall gave a short snort in return and shook his head with a wrinkled nose and pursed lips, “Fucking nasty. Don’t tell Rosie any of that.”

We shared a snickering laugh, me leaning into him on impulse and him holding me up for just that brief moment. I was quick to reassure, “Promise.”

And what was it with me today and making promises with the Mathers? I bit my tongue to dampen my grin and let the thought go.

The girl mentioned called for us then, having somehow managed to hang herself upside down from the metal bars, practically giving Marshall whiplash as his head spun back around twice just to be certain of what he’d seen. “Girl’s gone be the death of me.” He muttered but was already jogging over to where she was cackling away, hair swinging wildly in the wind.

I followed, albeit at a slower pace, hollowing my cheeks in hopes to hide my obvious amusement, especially when Marshall tried to figure out a way to get his daughter back on even ground. Rosie was far too entertained by the effort though, dodging the man’s attempts and swinging back, forth, left and right to avoid his hands. 

Eventually, she did come down, much to Marshall’s evident relief, which was too easy to see even with the hard frown he’d since taken on. And so Rosie was quick to wave his worries away and hurry over to the next thing, throwing herself onto a swing and gesturing for me to join her. I did, but not before I tossed an impish smirk Marshall’s way as I went to settle in beside her. 

It was Em’s turn to follow me then it seemed, he shook his head at the pair of us when he came to a pause by the swings edge and propped himself against a pole. “You gotta kick a little harder, Z.” He told Rosie after a moment. 

“I am!” The girl laughed in retort, glancing my way to try and match my stride. “It’s not my fault she has longer legs!”

Marshall lifted a brow, arms crossed over his chest, “You can lap most kids on a field and almost give me a heart attack by hangin’ upside down like some sort of bat, but a swing is what stunts you?”

“Dad!” Rosie all but whined, although she was still giggling away. I tried to catch the chain of her swing as I slowed in hopes to pull her with me, but the angle was off and so the most it did was rattle her seat and send me swinging in the opposite direction. 

My hand jumped to grip my own chain once more and I blew out a breathy laugh when the immediate danger of falling flat on my face diminished, but it left me just enough time to have caught the slight startle Marshall had made at the scare. I smirked over at him and raised my palms up so that I was barely holding on by the jut of my thumbs, “All good!”

The man clucked his tongue and looked away from me, almost as if to take a breath, before he was pushing away from the pole and marching over. Instead of stopping by our feet like expected though, Marshall slid behind the two of us and surprised me by grabbing the back of my seat. I jolted at the sudden pull as he lifted me higher, fingertips grazing the back of my jeans ever so before he let go completely. 

I wasn’t ashamed in the least to say that I screamed, dropping so suddenly and from a height I hadn’t expected him to reach was jarring, but then I was laughing breathlessly again as the wind got caught up in my hair, allowing him to give me another hearty shove before he did the same thing to Rosie.

I don’t know how long we sat there swinging, Rosie daring her dad to run between us in between my attempts at trying to teach the girl how to kick her legs a little harder so that she’d be able to swing higher on her own, but we must’ve been at it for a while. At least long enough for the sky to have warmed overhead and then turned into a glazed pink full of bruising purples.

It was then that we decided to call it a day. 

The trip to the playground seemed to have tired Rosie out some though by the time we returned to the car, because the girl slumped into my side not long after we’d set off. Still mostly awake though, she spoke in a soft murmur and pointed out the things that we passed by, her eyes growing heavier and heavier as each moment slipped by but continuing to explain. 

Marshall kept the radio low throughout the drive and let her wear herself out, so much so that she was almost asleep by the time he pulled into the driveway.

“Hey, lovely, we’re here.” I whispered to her, lowering my head just enough so that my cheek pressed against her hair, and rubbed her arm like I would Lottie to coax her into moving, “Gotta head inside now.”

Rosie sniffed sleepily but blinked her bleary eyes open to undo her seatbelt, she smiled as she rubbed at her face then turned to look at me. “I like it when you call me that.” She let slip, leaving me to blink before I realised that she then looked a tad bit sheepish at the admission.

I squeezed her hand and smiled back, “What— lovely?”

She hummed around a tired nod and it was then that the engine and headlights switched off. I peered up in the sudden quiet to find Marshall attempting to appear busy, quietly collecting his keys and the wallet he’d left in his car’s cup holder whilst pretending he hadn’t heard, but I knew he had.

“Just like it.” Rosie murmured again and so I forced myself to glance back at her and her weary smile, she shrugged sleepily.

I couldn’t help the emotion that spread through me and warmed my chest, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to her temple as my hand came up to smooth the back of her hair. “I’ll keep it up then.” I told her in the hush that followed, “Thank you for today.”

Her smile, whilst exhausted, was wide enough to squint her eyes and dimple her chin. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

My nose tingled at the emotion that flooded through me at her heartfelt response and so I was quick to undo my own seatbelt, listening as Marshall’s door opened and the man slid from the car. A second passed, and then two, before there was an audible click and the low light of the driveway crept into the backseat. Rosie smiled up at her father warmly, who extended a hand to help her out whilst I waited, taking a moment to compose myself before I followed, slipping out of the opposite end.

Rosie leaned heavily into his side the whole walk up to the house, muttering about the dog treats she had to give Marcie and how she was looking forward to the coming days, which led to Em softly agreeing with her as he guided his daughter through the front door and gestured for her to head on up the stairs. 

“Night, El.” She didn’t forget to say before she took that first step, kissing her dad’s cheek goodnight and gifting me a quick hug.

I breathed in sharply at the gesture and then smiled softly over at her. 

“Goodnight, lovely.” It only proved to make her grin.

Then it was just him and I, left standing in the hallway, only spurred on by the gentle click of the door that sounded from upstairs. Marshall dragged his cap off and tossed it down onto the ornate cabinet sitting nearby, running a hand over the hair he always kept so short. I moved too, stepping over towards the coat closet door so that I could toe off my shoes and place them neatly inside. 

Em followed and came up behind me a minute later to do the exact same thing, my mouth quirked as I turned towards him though, stealing the shoes out from his hand to set them down beside my own. He shook his head at the gesture but didn’t comment.

The house hummed around us as the door clicked shut, the lights up on the landing soft and yellow where Rosie had just disappeared but enough to stretch out and shine down on us. Marshall jutted his chin in the opposite direction of the kitchen after a minute and when he spoke it was in a low breath, “Don’t know how you’re feelin’ after today but imma watch some tv. If you wanna join.”

It was an offer I was all too appreciative of and so I gave him an eager nod in answer, “Jet lag has yet to hit so I figured I’d just be up unfolding my suitcase until I eventually passed out.”

His grin was small but indulgent, and he shook his head again as he dragged in a slow breath. “Get comfy and I’ll put it on.”

My head tilted on its own accord and I could only guess that the smile I gifted him then was sappy as fuck because he swatted playfully at my chin to turn my face away. I blew out an airy chuckle but kept on grinning, “I’ll be quick.”

Marshall hummed and then turned to walk away, it was only once I’d reached the staircase that he paused and looked back to ask, “Salted or sweet?”

I stopped short, foot dangling in the air just before it could settle on the next step. Pivoting, I shot him a smirk over my left shoulder, “Salted all day, everyday.”

He dipped his chin in a nod and his usual stoic expression melted into something just short of approval. I swallowed down another laugh behind my smile and hurried up the rest of the stairs, anxious to get out of my jeans and into anything else.

I made quick work of it, washing my face free of the makeup I’d put on that same morning and tucking my hair behind my ears. I did jump out of the denim too once I’d pulled a pair of shorts out of my suitcase, although I paused just before I could reach for the hem of the hoodie I still had on.

Peering down at it, I wondered if he would care if I wore it for a little longer and chewed on my lower lip. I realised all too quickly how much time I was wasting with the debate so I simply shrugged and just kept the thing on, slipping out of the tee I had on underneath before I was putting my phone on charge and heading back out the door. 

Marshall, it seemed, had already settled in, the smell of popcorn and the light from the tele leading my way into the family room he’d shown me earlier on to find him already spread out on the sofa, arm thrown over its back whilst he scrolled aimlessly through a couple of films.

As I padded in, hands tucked into my pockets and chin ducked into the neck of my hood, he turned to greet me. I watched, rounding one end of the couch, as he raised a brow and let his eyes flicker down to the hoodie I still wore before they darted back up to my face. “I’m not gettin’ that back, am I?”

I snuffed out a short, airy chuckle and rolled my eyes at the idiot before I plopped down to sit on the other side of the popcorn bowl he’d brought in, gaze catching on the stash of drinks and chocolate he had on the coffee table too. “You will,” I assured him, rolling my head against the back of the sofa to look his way, “Just warm, is all.”

Em hummed sceptically, but let the matter drop– for now.

“What are we watching then?” I wondered, pulling my legs up so that I could better settle into the cushions.

He went down a couple slides on the browsing page before he switched from films over to tv shows, “Up to you.” I groaned, hating having to be the decider, and he laughed to himself because he knew it too. “Jus’ pick something, girl. Damn.”

Picking up a popcorn kernel, I tossed it at his head and smiled snarkily when he jolted back just a tad and peered down at the offending piece that had settled on his chest. He shot me a look that had me stifling yet another chuckle and then popped the thing into his mouth. I rolled my eyes once more and sighed. 

“Um,” I drawled out in thought after a brief moment, eyes scanning the few series that were being advertised. I blinked when I spotted the ‘Because you watched..’ portion of the screen, “You’re a Walking Dead fan?”

Marshall glanced over at me, “Got addicted a while back, all I could fuckin’ watch for months.”

My eyes widened in sudden excitement and I felt the way my grin dimpled my cheeks. “Don’t. ‘Cause I was the same. I’m legit sitting on my hands waiting for the next season to come out.”

His brow pinched and he shifted in his seat. “Comes out Sunday, right?”

“Yeah, for you lot!” I immediately argued, straightening up in my chair as I turned to him again, “I have to wait ages for it to even premier back home, so I’ve resorted to using dodgy websites in an attempt to not get any spoilers.”

Em snorted and then tsked, “Oo, she’s bad.”

My eyes crinkled around my next laugh and I reached out to nudge his arm. “Why are you such a dick?” I tutted before I relaxed back into my seat again to chew on the corner of my mouth, wondering if I should even dare ask the next question that came to mind.

“‘Gotta keep up appearances, baby.” Marshall smirked as his gaze slid back on over towards the tv screen, unaware of how I had just gone and paused for a split second. “But see, this is just another reason why America wins.”

I instantly scoffed, “Wins what? Because I can start listing off a whole load of gross shit right now about all the fucked up shit you guys have done and do. Or,” I dragged out, feeling a little triumphant when he rolled his eyes at me, “We can just pretend you didn’t say that.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He sniffed as he jutted out his chin, “Actin’ like your people didn’t come over and colonise this place.”

My head lazed back when I glanced towards the ceiling in hopes of finding the slim chance that there’d be some kind of peace waiting up there for me. But if there ever was such a thing, I knew it wouldn’t be hanging over my head. 

“You have to have the final say, don’t you?” I ended up chuckling, before I let go of a sigh and turned to look back at him, only to find that he was already watching me.

He smirked. “Look, if you shut up we can rewatch this last season and maybe.. Maybe. I’ll think about lettin’ you watch it with me Sunday.”

My jaw snapped shut in my haste to agree to his terms, the clink of my teeth almost audible in the quiet room. Marshall let go of a low chuckle before he scrolled a little lower and clicked start on Season Four.

The prison.

I reached out and took a small handful of the popcorn as a pair of long legs came into view, the camera following them and winding its way lower and further out, I shifted so that I was sat with my feet tucked beneath me.

A couple minutes passed by with the pair of us entirely focused on the scene, and so it was surprising for Em to be the one who broke the silence, “Bet you right now, I can guess who your favourite is.”

Glancing over at him, I let him witness my sly smile, “Oh, we’re doing this then?”

He grunted a hum in response before his eyes flickered between me and the tv. 

“That mean I can guess yours?” I wondered out loud and he thought it over before eventually giving a single shoulder shrug. I didn’t really need time to think about my guess, I could remember most of this season pretty well and I liked to think that I knew Em well enough too. “What do I win if I get it right?”

Marshall’s head lolled against the back of the chair to meet my questioning gaze, “The pleasure of my company.”

I tossed another kernel at him, pulling a face when he somehow managed to catch it in his mouth. “Do better,” I told him and picked up another piece to throw his way again, the pair of us making an odd game out of it. “Come on, what do I get?”

He sat up slightly and actually put some thought into it, “I don’t know,” He eventually muttered before his gaze met mine again, eyes roaming over my face. “You can keep the hoodie.”

I gawked a tad, “I don’t even wanna know how much this thing costs, so no.”

With a mirthful shake of his head, Em wet his lower lip and blew out a huffed breath, “It suits you better anyway. So you can keep it whether you get it right or not.”

I met his languid gaze with a look of my own. “You’re just saying that ‘cause you think I stink, aren’t you?”

It truly was utterly hilarious how fast and how wide his eyes then grew, and I got to watch it all happen, even the moment he spluttered over the handful of popcorn he’d just started to chew on. “The fuck?” 

He coughed and laughter spilled from me, enough so that I was actually unable to breathe with how hard I was chuckling, hand on my chest to keep from wheezing. “You–” I snickered, unable to kill my laughter entirely, “You should– God, Marshall. You should’ve seen your face!”

He grabbed another large handful of popcorn and threw it straight at me. Even as I continued to laugh, I cowered away to shield myself from the attack, only dropping my hands down once the dull thuds stopped to find kernels littering the majority of the seat as well as my hair. 

“Such a bitch.”

“Me?” I gaped around another chuckle, “You literally just shit yourself!”

Flipping me off, Marshall shook his head and moved to pick up the popcorn he’d just thrown, and so I did too, smiling all the while, even more so when he reached out to untangle a stray piece from the side of my hood.

It was quiet for a short while after that, us moving around one another to put the popcorn in the bin, the first episode of The Walking Dead continuing on without us. It was then that I finally decided to make my guess and paused an arms length away, “Hershel.”

Marshall’s head snapped up from where he was emptying his handful into the bin. He blinked, then stood to his full height. “How’d you guess?”

I grinned, or rather, positively beamed at his reply. “So I’m right?” I asked avidly, having stopped dead in my tracks. He reluctantly nodded, rolling his eyes at my obvious enthusiasm even though the smile he wore was almost fond. “I can’t believe it.”

He pushed out a disbelieving laugh and shook his head. “How?” He prompted again, leading me to shrug.

“Can’t explain it, just had a feeling.” I told him truthfully as he wandered back over towards the sofa, I straightened out the cushions and then sat down beside him. The popcorn bowl had been moved onto the coffee table after all the fuss, which meant we were a lot closer now, but neither one of us seemed to mind it.

“Nah,” Marshall said, knuckle knocking into my knee, “Really. What gave it away?”

I chuckled and waved the offending hand away, “Honest. I really don’t know, it just– It felt like the right answer. He’s sort of like you in a way actually.” Em gawked a tad at that but I just continued on, “He’s stubborn,” I listed with a rueful smile, “almost to a fault.” And as Marshall’s lips thinned, I carried on in my observing, “But he believes strongly in what he considers is right and loves his family to the bitter end. All of them.”

He mulled it over.

“Plus,” I couldn’t help but add, “He’s fucking tough. Just keeps on going, even with everything they throw at him. I mean, the leg. Come on!”

I was met by a surveying look before the man finally cracked a smile and hummed. The blue of his eyes were dimmed in the low light of the tv now but they flickered back and forth between my own, “Daryl.” He said softly in retort, to which I frowned. 

Marshall just continued on though, smiling still as he relaxed back into his seat completely. “Your favourite. It’s Daryl.”

The corners of my mouth twitched and I watched him for a second before a gentle chuckle bypassed my lips, “Why?”

His head pressed further into the back of the couch and I found myself shuffling to join him, cushioning my cheek on my forearm. “Hearts of gold.” He murmured, voice deep and low whilst still also managing not to resonate off the surrounding walls, his words meant only for me to hear. “Selfless, too. You’re a fighter and your silence speaks volumes.” 

He paused, watching again, waiting. “There’s just more to you than what first meets the eye, you know?” 

I didn’t really know. Didn’t know how to respond to that either and so I just smiled, reaching up to tilt his chin away from me so that I wouldn’t be stuck under that hypnotising gaze of his. He huffed a chuckle, the sound of it warm enough to hollow out a small part of me. 

It was then that we both chose to move, I shifted just as his arm came up to rest on the back of the sofa, tipping the cushion beneath me a tad so that I was pressing further into his side. He didn’t complain though, merely draped the arm over my shoulders instead and focused back on the tv screen; Rick crouched in the grass, his eyes glossy as he contemplated the decisions people made in a world like his.

“I forgot to thank you, by the way.” Marshall mentioned after a while in not quite a whisper.

The skin between my brow wrinkled, “What for?”

Rick stood, eyes stuck on the burlap sack. Then, almost as if it pained him, he started to walk away, away from the couple, their decisions, their desperation, and back into the woods.

“Today.” Marshall murmured quietly, before he then added, “Rosie.”

I shook my head as best as I could, “I should be the one thanking you.”

But he was adamant it seemed. “No, really. You–” He stopped and took a small breath, “You’re good with her. She likes you. And then that shit at the park, and in the car.” I felt him shrug lightly, the motion thoughtless, and could picture the struggle that warred over his face. So I didn’t dare move. “Don’t think she’s ever really had someone treat her like that.”

Once again today, I found myself wanting to probe, to question. But I could feel how hard it was for him to speak, to get his words out and across in the way he wanted. I kept quiet.

“It–” He forced himself to exhale, “It just means a lot. So I gotta say thanks.”

My arm came up around his waist almost automatically and I squeezed briefly before I pulled away again, swallowing the emotion that had welled in my throat. “She’s a good kid.” I told him in a soft hum, “You don’t have to thank me for anything. It’s not how shit works with me.”

He snorted a breathy laugh out through his nose and finally eased back enough that I could actually feel the tension flood from him. “I’m starting to get that.” He admitted quietly, as though it hadn’t even been meant for me.

I didn’t question it though, or the way it made me feel, because I suddenly felt my eyes begin to droop. I licked at the corner of my mouth and sniffed, “Think it's hitting me now.”

I felt when Em moved to peer down at me, smirking when he saw just how heavy my eyes had quickly become and the way I was now fighting to keep them open. “Come on,” He prompted gruffly, shifting in his seat to stand before he held both of his hands out towards me, “Bed.”

Snuffling a tad, I did end up taking his arms, allowing him to tug me up. I swayed ever so slightly once I was finally standing. “I hate flying.”

He snorted but entertained me, “Yeah?”

I uhuhed, blinking again slowly. 

Apparently, me all doped out due to a lack of sleep was enough to get Em laughing because he cracked up when I almost toppled back down onto the sofa on my way out of the room, pouting at the knock my knee had taken instead. “Shuddup.” 

“Almost there, sure you ain’t gone fall down them stairs?” He teased and the air that escaped him at the blow I hit him with tickled the back of my neck, “Fuck. Remind me not to mess with you.”

I smiled sleepily before his hand came to settle on the small of my back almost thoughtlessly, peering up to find that we’d made it to the staircase. I grabbed at the bannister and pulled myself up the first few steps.

“You good?”

I hummed at his ask, the sound buzzing somewhere in the back of my throat, before my eyes were slipping closed once more and then shooting wide open when I managed to miss the edge of the next step. 

Marshall’s hands were immediately there to catch me. “Careful, baby.” He murmured, so focused on the task of getting us up the stairs without injury that he was blissfully unaware of how his words had chased some of the sleep away.

“I’m okay.” I reassured him once I’d finally managed to find my voice, but his hands remained on my hips all the way up the stairs and to the landing.

We stopped there, at the patch of hall that separated his room from mine. “Sure?” He quizzed, dipping his head to catch my eye.

Unable to do anything other than smile, I chuckled. “I’m sure. Sorry, I was fine and then it–”

“I get it.” He cut in, “Hits you hard and sort of comes outta nowhere.”

“Yeah.” I croaked out another laugh, tired eyes trailing between his. “Bet I won’t even sleep that long either.”

Marshall perked up a little at that, understanding exactly where I was coming from, “Well, you need anything you know where I am.”

I rolled my eyes but kept on smiling. “I’ll be okay.”

He hummed, not entirely satisfied with that, but took a step back once he realised I really was fine. “Just say okay for my own fuckin’ peace of mind.”

Raising my hand I saluted him stupidly, but it had him biting back another smile. 

“Dork.”

“Dick.” I shot back.

He shook his head, “Go to sleep, asshole.”

“I am.” I snorted just as my hand gripped the handle to my room, “So fuck off.”

Marshall continued to stand there though, tucking his hands into the joggers he was wearing as he waited for the door to swing open and for me to step inside. 

I paused just short of the threshold, fingers playing with the handle for a second. “See you tomorrow then.”

A small smirk worked its way across his face.

“Tomorrow.” He repeated before he finally took a step back and turned to head down the hallway. I watched him go, until he disappeared into the shadows and I was left alone for the first time since I’d arrived.

Tomorrow, I thought to myself as I moved to shut the bedroom door.

–

Turned out that I had been right. 

It must have been around twelve or so when Marshall and I had finally turned in, but I was blinking back to consciousness no less than a few hours later. 

One glance at the clock told me it was only half five and the hour had me biting back a hefty sigh. Still, I knew I wouldn’t be getting much more sleep so I took the shower I hadn’t had the chance to the night before and started to get ready for the day, playing music low to keep myself company in the quiet my room offered.

An hour or so must have passed with me just puttering about, pulling out some clothes and drying my hair, it was when I’d just finished applying a little makeup to mask the darker circles that had appeared under my eyes over the last couple of weeks that I first heard it. A slight scuffle.

I paused and set down the makeup bag I’d been packing back away, waited for a second until I heard it again. Just a slight shuffle of feet beyond the door.

Forcing myself up off the bed, I stood and wandered over towards it, watching as a small shadow casted under the foot of the door before I turned the handle. The face I was met with shot over towards me in startled surprise and I chuckled inwardly, choosing to smile instead.

“Hey, lovely. You okay?” I asked, peering out down the hallway to find that the lights were still off, probably for my sake.

Rosie was chewing heavily on her lip when I looked back at her, the girl already dressed for school. She nodded and lifted her mouth in an apologetic grin, “Sorry, hope I didn’t wake you. Dad said to be a bit quieter.”

I grinned at the thought but rolled my eyes at the man and bumped the door open a little wider with my hip, figuring that Rosie had been shuffling outside for something but unsure on whether or not it could land her in trouble. Especially seeing as Marshall had instructed her to keep the noise down, thinking I was still asleep.

“You’re all good, been up for a while.” I told her, wandering back over to the foot of the bed after I’d gestured her inside. I packed away the remaining products which were still laid out on the bedspread and let her peer around a little. “Excited for school?” I asked, glancing over to where she still stood by the entrance.

She hummed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “It’s school.”

Releasing a soft chuckle, I dipped my head in an amused sort of nod. “I can understand that. You got a favourite lesson at least?”

Rosie chewed her lip again in thought before deciding on History. I smiled at the way her little face lit up at the mention, but I prolonged the silence a little in hopes that it would get her to open up about why she’d been shuffling about outside. It was a trick that had worked a dozen times over on Lottie.

Seemed it worked on Z too, who toed at the carpet just as I moved my makeup bag off to the side. “You any good with hair?”

The question did catch me by surprise, I couldn’t lie, but then I was grinning. “My sister had me learning all sorts,” I divulged to her, “and when I was back at school me and my friends would spend our lunch hour plaiting each other's hair. Drove the teachers mad.”

Rosie giggled at that and finally seemed to relax, moving further into the room. “Would you braid mine?” She wondered and peered up at me with those doe eyes I knew Marshall must have a hard time saying no to, “Dad’s getting better but he usually says it's just good up and out of the way in a ponytail.”

I pulled a face, wrinkling my nose at that. “Well, sure. But I reckon it’s just ‘cause he spends too long trying to work it out all over again each time you ask. You’re lucky though, my brother won’t even try.”

We shared a giggle as I wandered around to grab a few products I’d need. “Didn’t know you had a brother.” Rosie stated once I’d pointed her over to the chair closest and started on brushing her hair, being careful not to tug or pull.

I hummed softly in reply, “He’s a little younger, has a job that takes him all over the world so I don’t see him too often.”

“What’s he do?” She quizzed me, and for all that I’d learnt about how excitable the girl could be, she sat almost stock still in the seat as I sectioned off her hair. 

“He’s in the Army,” I answered her, figuring that I’d do two dutch braids and use the black ribbons I’d gotten in New York to tie them off. “He’s good at it too, loves it there.”

That set her off and she began asking question after question, probably curbing all of her enthusiasm into it seeing as she couldn’t move. I rambled away too, regaling lighter stories of my brother’s experiences, as well as the pair of us as kids. Rosie seemed to prefer those, smiling up at me and wondering if she could see the picture I’d just told her about, of Danny and I at the beach covered in thick, muddy sand. 

I wrapped up her two braids, tying the bows before I moved away to grab my mobile, finding the picture easily enough seeing as though Danny had sent me it the last time he’d been on leave.

“You look so alike!” Rosie giggled when she took a look at it, taking in the obvious traits we shared.

I chuckled as she stepped back, “Not really, he’s got a much bigger head.”

She laughed at that but then appeared to catch her reflection in the mirror on the dresser, she gasped and hurried closer to get a better look at the braids. She admired them for a long moment before she eventually grinned up at me, “It’s so pretty.” Rosie murmured gently, fingers toying with the black ribbon before she wrapped her arms around my waist, “Thank you.”

Anyone else I would have waved them off and said it was nothing, and in a way it was, but with Z I could only hug her back and smile. “You’re most welcome.” I told her as we parted, “Just glad you like it.”

“Like it?” The girl’s eyes widened like something straight out of a Disney movie, “I love it!”

I did chuckle then, “Well, I’m glad.” It was in that next moment that I went to tuck my phone into my back pocket and blinked at the time, “Best to go find your dad, don’t want you to be late.”

Rosie nodded around another grin, looking in the mirror one last time whilst I gathered up the last of my things to join her. We headed out together, Z telling me all about the lessons she was supposed to have today as we trailed down the stairs. 

All of our talking must have alerted Marshall because he only lifted a brow at his daughter when we entered the kitchen. “What I tell you?”

I gifted the man a placating grin as I wandered in behind her. “It’s fine, I was already up.” I reassured him, “And besides, I was doing God’s work.”

Rosie snickered at my words, but did a twirl when I pointed over at her. She was giddy when she approached the kitchen counter in a rush, pushing against it to beam up at her father. “Like it?”

Marshall’s face softened at the sight of her so smiley and went to run a hand over the girl’s head, but there was just enough time for Rosie to duck out of his reach.

“Dad!” She admonished, shooting him an appalled look before she moved to settle onto a stool on the opposing side.

The man held his hand up in surrender, eyes disbelieving. “Apologies, didn't realise I was talking to Dolly Parton.” He muttered and shook his head before turning and mumbling under his breath, “Jesus.”

I snorted to myself and glanced about the kitchen, not an avid breakfast eater but used to having at least a brew first thing. Marshall must have noticed after he’d slid a bowl of cereal towards his daughter and glanced my way.

“Thanks for that, by the way.” He said quietly to me, gesturing over to where his daughter sat, munching away. “She didn’t bother you none?”

My head shook quickly, “No, not at all. It was nice, I’ve missed the days of doing my sister’s hair. She’s long grown out of that phase now.”

Marshall quirked a small smile of his own and then padded towards a cupboard, it was there that he dragged out a box. I frowned at the wicker exterior and honed in closer when my eye caught on something familiar poking out the top. 

I gasped. “No shit.”

“Dollar!”

My head spun back to find Rosie grinning at me from around her spoon. I winced at the slip and shot the pair an apologetic smile which Em just waved off, but I jumped to grab a dollar from the small card case I’d brought down with me anyway and slapped it on the side. “I have a feeling this house is going to bankrupt me.”

Rosie giggled whilst Marshall just shook his head and pushed the dollar back to me. I hardened my stare and dared him to fight me on it. To my surprise the man just huffed out a short sound that could only have been a laugh before he gestured back over to the box.

“Was meant to give it to you yesterday.” He revealed as I carefully moved to peer into it again, marvelling at all the little treats that sat inside. “But things got real busy.”

I released a breath, my mouth parted whilst I reached a hand into the box. I grinned, heart warming at the item I held. “Tea.” I practically exclaimed as I looked back at the pair, not having had a cup since I’d arrived in The States, “And my favourite kind, too. How’d you even know?”

“Mentioned it before.” Em said breezily, before he moved back over to the island.

Had I? I wondered, perplexed by the idea of him even remembering before the sound of another cupboard opening dragged my eyes away from what else had been in the box.

I watched closely as Marshall dragged out a metal appliance from under the counter, only furthering my shock.

“The girls went through a herbal tea phase a while ago, bought this stupid thing and used it a half a dozen times.” He mentioned and settled down a kettle for me to use, “Figure you’ll need it.”

Rosie laughed then, breaking my daze as she slurped up the remaining milk which lined her bowl, “Think she’s speechless, Daddy.”

I narrowed my eyes playfully in turn, but she hadn’t been wrong. I just couldn’t quite wrap my head around it all. With a short snort, Em smirked and glanced back at me. 

“Come on,” He egged, “we only got a bit before I gotta go. Make me one.”

Unable to dim the smile that then chose to overwhelm my face, I simply shook my head in disbelief but jumped into action, “Grab me two mugs then– the milk too.”

I plugged the kettle in by the simple coffee machine in the corner and peeled open the familiar gold box full of heaven, popping two teabags into each of the mugs Marshall then slid on over to me. I prepped each one a little differently, knowing that Em wasn’t too big a fan of milk in his coffee before I added a couple spoons of sugar to sweeten it. It was always nicer to taste that way the first time around, but most were weaned off of it by the time they were old enough to realise that the practice was sacrilege. 

By the time I was clinking a teaspoon on one edge and had dumped both tea bags out, I padded back over to where Marshall was now sitting with Rosie, both of them having been content to just watch me work, and settled it in front of him. I urged him to try it with a raise of my brows.

He wet his lower lip, shared a brief look with his daughter which made me muffle a giggle, before he finally took a slow sip. He blinked at the taste and my grin widened. “Good, right?”

Em blinked again down at the muddy brew and I watched as his mouth pursed before he tried it once more. Rosie hunched over to get a look too, “Can I try?”

Marshall looked to me to ask if she could and I couldn’t see a reason not to, had practically been drinking tea for as long as I’d been on solids. So I dipped my chin, “It’s similar to coffee, but not. Won’t send her into a caffeine frenzy.”

With a cluck, Em let the girl take a sip, warning her that it was hot just before Z pulled away with a heavy grimace. The girl shook her head to show her evident disgust and both Marshall and I laughed at the reaction. “Gross.”

“Oi.” I rebuked teasingly, pointing at her from around my mug, which earnt me a giggle of my own before she was settling back down on her stool.

“Not for me.” She declared and then jumped off the chair to place her now empty bowl in the sink, “Sorry, El.”

I laughed at her apologetic wince and waved her off, “You’re alright, sweetheart. Isn’t for everyone.”

Rosie’s wrinkled expression eased at my words and she smiled as she rounded the island to lean into my side, “You coming to drop off too?”

Blinking, I glanced over at Marshall in confusion. “Drop off?”

The man continued to sip at his tea, which amused me to no end because I knew by the time I had to leave I’d have him hooked, and licked his lower lip before answering, “School.”

Oh. I nodded in a way that showed an understanding then peered down at the smiley blonde beside me, “Sure, if it’s okay with your Dad.”

Rosie nodded eagerly and looked towards the man in question, who’s eyes darted between the both of us before he ultimately shrugged. It got him a giant grin. “I’m going to grab my bag!” The girl told us and barely even gave anyone a chance to get a word in edgeways before she was darting across the room and up the stairs.

I smiled after the retreating figure, amused by her antics, but eventually Marshall dragged my attention back to him. “You good with comin’?”

Withholding a sigh, I shot him an exasperated smile and another nod. “‘Course. Stop questioning shit.”

He pulled a face. “Just tryna be hospitable, shit.”

“Hospitable isn’t the word I’d use.” I chuckled then finished the last of my drink, peering into the still warm mug, “Thanks for this though. It means– well, I can’t explain how much it means to me. Like having a little bit of home here.”

Marshall dipped his chin in silent understanding, still sipping away. “Can understand why, I’ve had this shit before but it ain’t ever tasted like this.”

That had me grinning, “You pulling my leg?”

“Nah, for real.” He said, nodding his head, “You put somethin’ in it?”

I glared and swiped his cup away, taking the two of them over to the sink to rinse. “No clue why you went into the music business, should’ve just been a clown.”

He was smirking when I looked back over, forearms pressed against the counter as he watched me clean the mugs and Rosie’s bowl. “Have a dishwasher, you know.”

Wrinkled my nose, I shrugged, “Probably have a lot of shit that makes life easier.”

“What’s that meant to mean?” Em laughed, the sound of it low but rippling the otherwise quiet kitchen.

“Take it as you will,” I retorted smugly, drying the dishes off easily and placing them down on the draining board. “We gonna start writing today?”

I asked it as I turned back to face him, pressing back against the sink to meet his stare. He shook his head though and pushed up out of the barstool, grabbing the keys he’d since set out on the side, “Figure I’d show you ‘round first.”

The smirk he wore made me question what it was exactly that he meant for us to do, but before I could even think up a reply he was already trailing away and calling up the stairs to Rosie. 

Still, the thought lingered.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

As Long As No One Knows, Then Nobody Can Care

I'm Bright Baby Blue, Falling Into You

Chelsea!Roy Kent x Coach's Daughter!Reader

2.6k words

Warnings: Language, lying/sneaking around, kissing, no Ted Lasso characters except for Roy, fluff & flirting

You floated up to your bedroom late that night. And the next morning when you came down for breakfast. And while you walked next to your dad through the parking lot.

It had been a perfect evening. After a bit of making out with Roy, he wrapped his arm around you and let you lean on his shoulder for the rest of the movie, unabashedly glancing at you during all the romantic moments that were nothing compared to the look in his eye. After the movie, he walked you to your car, kissing you against the car door and promising to see you at training the next day.

And see you he did. When you followed your dad into the coaches’ office, Roy caught your eye from the changing room, where he stood holding his kit. He offered you that fucking smirk, raising a cool eyebrow at you before slipping his shirt on.

Fuck, he was going to be the death of you.

You spent the morning organizing some paperwork for your dad while the men were on the pitch, pretending that you weren’t thinking about Roy Kent and the way he’d kissed you. Once you finished, you joined your dad on the sidelines, wondering it was obvious that you were struggling more than usual to keep your eyes off of Roy. You smiled as you watched him run up and down the pitch, feeling your heart skip a beat every time you heard his booming voice.

“You alright?” Your dad’s voice interrupted your drooling. “You’ve been actin’ all dreamy all day.”

“Yeah,” you stammered out, quickly averting your eyes to literally any other player on the pitch. “Just fine, Dad.”

That seemed enough for him. For now, at least.

Once training ended for the day, you made your way to the boot room with a question from your dad for the kitman. Finding no kitman and only shoes, you took a moment to lean against a cool wall and close your eyes, trying not to dwell too hard on the image you’d just gotten of Roy wrapped in a towel after a shower. It was always a sight that left you flustered, but now that you knew what kissing the man felt like, the scene was something close to torture.

“Fuck’s wrong with you?”

Roy’s voice had your eyes snapping open. “Nothing,” you lied, both relieved and disappointed to see him fully dressed now. “Heading home, then?”

He shrugged and glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was nearby. “Got that Nike thing,” he reminded you. He narrowed his eyes for a moment, clearly thinking, before opening his mouth again. “Don’t suppose you’d want to come.”

That Nike thing. His Nike photoshoot, for advertisements that would probably follow you all over on billboards and in magazines. But yeah, sure, “that Nike thing”.

“Really?” You couldn’t hide the surprise in your suddenly squeaky voice. You’d hoped Roy would ask you out again, you were desperate for this to be more than just one perfect makeout session during a Nora Ephron movie, but this wasn’t what you expected.

His face was clearly amused as he nodded. “Sure,” he said softly. “Need someone there who’ll tell me if I look fucking stupid. What d’you say?”

What you wanted to say was that he’d never look stupid. What you wanted to say was that you’d go anywhere, do anything, as long as he was there too. But thankfully, you had some semblance of self-control that allowed you to answer, “Sounds fun, Kent.”

It was arranged in quick whispers. You’d meet Roy at his flat, and he’d drive you both to the studio. Afterwards he’d treat you to dinner as a thank you for joining him. Both of you were fighting smiles by the time you’d finished making your plans for the strangest second date you’d ever heard of.

“Don’t feel like you have to dress up for these fashion people,” Roy added before he turned to leave. “Wear what you like.”

A part of you initially thought this was his roundabout way of instructing you to dress up, to not embarrass him in front of the chic photographers and stylists that would no doubt be there. But when you saw the gentleness in his eyes, you realized it was something different. He wanted to make sure you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable or out of place in his world; he wanted you to feel like you belonged there. And damn, if you didn’t want to belong in his world.

After the two of you said goodbye with the tiniest kiss in the world, Roy slipped out of the boot room, taking your gaze with him. A Nike photoshoot with Roy Kent. You were going to a fucking Nike photoshoot with Roy fucking Kent. The thought had you wanting to spin in circles and squeal like a child. Instead, you simply met your dad at the car and half-listened to his chattering all the way home.

Once you were in the privacy of your room, you scoured your closet for the right outfit. You settled on a short, simple dress, one that you usually saved for nights out with friends or dates. After a touch of makeup, you listened carefully at your door for your parents. While jeans could slip by them easily, something like this was a bit more conspicuous.

“You’re all dressed up. Special plans?”

Oh, hell. Why couldn’t your dad catch you last night, when you were in jeans? Why did he have to catch you tonight, with your tiny dress and your hair all done?

“Just going out with the girls,” you lied, lied, lied. “Grab some dinner, maybe hit a club.” You nodded, trying to act nonchalant, like you weren’t sneaking out to see one of his players.

He stared at you for a moment, his eyes narrowing for a fraction of a second. “Alright, love.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, careful not to muss your hair. “Have fun. Make good choices.”

The words your dad had sent you off with since you were a teenager rambled in your head as you drove to Roy’s. He would not like this choice. Lying to your parents, seeing Roy Kent outside of football, letting him kiss you and, if he wanted to, even more than that.

But when Roy greeted you with an impressed “Fuuuuuuuck” and a dizzying kiss, you found that you really liked this choice. A hell of a lot.

Over the years, you’d been to tons of team picture days. You’d seen your dad take photos with fans. You had waved at photographers on game days. You weren’t new to the fame that came with professional football, not by a longshot.

But you’d never dated a professional athlete and gone to a photoshoot with him.

Roy sat still in the makeup chair, eyes on your reflection in the mirror as the makeup artist worked on his already perfect face. You relished the way his gaze roamed your figure, the way he was clearly trying not to smile and make the makeup artist’s job harder. When she pulled out the mascara, Roy narrowed his eyes.

“Do I want to wear fucking mascara?” he called to you playfully.

“You do,” you teased with a wink. “Very hot.”

Roy nodded to the makeup artist. “You heard the woman. Mascara time.”

Watching Roy do his photoshoot was nothing short of entertaining. Lights flashed blindingly as Roy took different poses, looking gorgeous as ever in black Nike trackpants. A young woman kept scurrying up to you, asking if you needed coffee or anything, nodding curtly every time you assured her you were fine. The scene in front of you was enough of a treat. The photographer tried to get the midfielder to smile over and over again, but all Roy would give was a scowl; luckily, Roy Kent looked damn good with a scowl on his face.

“Come on, Roy,” the photographer urged as Roy held a football between his hands and quirked an eyebrow. “One smile.” He glanced over his shoulder at you, perched politely in a chair some assistant had brought you. “For your girl,” he tried.

The corner of Roy’s mouth tugged upward for a fraction of a second before he narrowed his eyes playfully at you. “Do you want to see me fucking smile?” he teased.

Pretending that your face wasn’t on fire at being called Roy’s girl, you shrugged. “Dunno, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile. Might be ugly as hell.”

When Roy threw his head back in a surprised laugh, the chuckling photographer started clicking away, capturing the rarest sight of all: Roy Kent’s real smile. Fuck, some part of you hoped they’d use one of those pictures for the ad campaign. But a selfish part of you wished they wouldn’t, so that you could keep his smile all for yourself, locked up in your heart and memories, away from any and all prying eyes.

It was late by the time the photographer shook Roy’s hand and wished you both a good night. Roy took your hand in his with ease, as though he did all the time, and led you out of the studio and back to his car. He paused, hand hovering over your door’s handle, before glancing at you.

“D’you still want to grab some dinner?”

His voice was sharp and gruff, almost as if he was expecting a no, but his eyes were asking you to say yes. It was a pattern you were already beginning to recognize: when he wanted something, when he hoped for something, Roy hardened himself, anticipating rejection and disappointment, the two things you didn’t think you’d ever be able to give him.

“Of course,” you assured him with a small smile. “I really worked up an appetite, sitting there and watching you pose.”

He chuckled and let his shoulders loosen a bit. “Right. Better feed you before you have your dad make me run laps all fucking day.” He took your hand in his. “C’mon.”

With the late hour, the streets weren’t too full, and with Roy keeping his head dipped, no one noticed the Chelsea superstar wandering down the road holding the hand of his manager’s daughter. Still, your heart was pounding. All it would take was one person to recognize either one of you, to snap a photo of Roy and his mystery woman, and all hell would break loose. But feeling Roy squeeze your hand as you turned a corner made you feel like it might be worth it. He might be worth it.

“Anything sound good?” he asked, nodding towards the rows of pubs and restaurants.

Your eyes flickered from spot to spot, wondering how full these places were and how easily Roy would be recognized. Finally, your eyes landed on an unassuming little hot dog cart across the street. Its dull neon sign and tired-looking vendor looked like the perfect opportunity to avoid unwanted attention. With a squeeze to Roy’s hand, you nodded towards it.

He raised his eyebrows at you. “A fucking hot dog?” His mouth widened into a smile. “You’ve spent too much time eating stadium food, you know that?”

“I’d like to not walk into a crowded restaurant with Chelsea’s superstar,” you mumbled as Roy guided you across the street.

“Good point,” he chuckled. He gave a quick nod to the cart vendor. “Whatever she gets, just make it two.”

You quickly gave your order, never letting go of Roy’s hand as he stuffed a few bills into the man’s hand, mumbling something about keeping the change. Hot dogs in your free hands, the two of you wandered down the road a bit until you came across a park. Roy nodded to a nearby bench, secluded and tucked into a dark corner. A tree offered ample covering, letting in only twinkles of starlight and a couple of rays of moonlight. The two of you sat, close enough that your thighs were touching, and began munching on your simple dinner.

“How’s your hot dog?” Roy asked, his mouth half full of food.

Some part of you liked how comfortable he seemed next to you; you wondered if he was like this with all his dates. You sure as hell hoped not. “Good,” you answered after swallowing a particularly large bite. “Although, I’ve gotta say, this might be the weirdest second date I’ve ever been on, Kent.”

He quirked a thick eyebrow at you. “Date? Who said anything about a date?”

The teasing glint in his eye saved you from any sense of humiliation. “Oh, fuck me,” you laughed, throwing your head back.

Roy’s smirk grew as he shouldered you playfully. “Oi, not on the second date, princess.”

“Prick,” you mumbled, leaning close and planting a kiss on his cheek. “Eat your fucking hot dog, Kent.”

For once, Roy did as he was told, although his cocky grin remained. After a few moments of comfortable silence, he opened his mouth again. “How’s school?”

“It’s school,” you answered simply. “I go to classes, I see my friends, I do my writing. Boring and normal. Not exactly exciting stuff to someone who plays in the Premier League.”

He shook his head. “When your whole life is this one fucking thing,” he explained slowly, “then normal is pretty fucking interesting.” His soft eyes found yours. “Especially when it’s your normal.”

“My normal is reading fucking books and professors telling me why my writing sucks and having debates with twenty-year-olds who turn their noses up at my opinions in class, only to approach me at a pub that weekend,” you scoffed. “Your normal is playing football in front of sold-out crowds and dating models and doing Nike photoshoots.” You nudged his foot with yours. “You looked good, by the way,” you added. “In your photoshoot.”

Roy took your empty hot dog wrapper and balled it up along with his own. “It’s kind of weird, doing that shit,” he admitted. “But at least the photographer was pretty cool.” He studied your face carefully. “Sorry if he made you uncomfortable,” he added, his voice quickening. “With that whole ‘your girl’ thing.” He cleared his throat.

“It’s fine,” you assured him, your cheeks suddenly hot. “Just the risk I take hanging out with you, I guess.” Another kick to his foot, to assure him that the atmosphere between you was still light and playful.

When you looked at him, his face was hard, but not cold. Thoughtful was perhaps the best way to describe it. “It is a risk,” he said slowly. “Us seeing each other.” As he spoke, he reached out and took your hand, intertwining your fingers together. “But if I’m being fucking honest, it’s a risk I’m glad to be taking with you.”

Oh, hell. Your mouth went completely dry as Roy’s words hit your ears and your heart. In the time you’d known him at the club- and now in private- you never thought of Roy Kent as the romantic type. He had dates, not girlfriends, and when he did have girlfriends, the stunning women tended not to stick around for very long. And while he wasn’t vulgar in the changing room, he wasn’t a prude either. He’d roll his eyes and mumble something about his latest fling and joke about how whoever was questioning him would kill to be in Roy’s place. And you’d sit in the office wishing you could be in some model’s place with Roy. Roy Kent was a player, and it didn’t seem like he wanted the game to end anytime soon.

Yet there he was, his words soft and gentle, his wide eyes asking if you were okay with what he just said. Something that implied that this was a little more than a few stolen kisses and a pair of hot dogs in the park.

“Worth the risk,” you murmured quietly, so quiet he almost didn’t hear you.

But he did hear you. And your words had a small smile appearing on that beautiful face. A smile so perfect you couldn’t resist leaning forward and kissing it.

Taglist:@gee72sstuff@book-of-roses@kissykissymouth@emmy2811 @hart-kinsella @klaine-92@dearvoidgoodnight@misshall14@issieruby@royal-sunflower@kissmekent@veryprairieberry @itswhateveripromise @slaymybreathaway @darkmagazineblaze @larascorneroftheworld @infinetlyforgotten @caught-the-feels @rae4725 @sisinever @cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782

[cegiel-athelia]

Zayne’s Tranquil Heart (Tender Moments) ending rewritten

My ramblings on the story. There will of course be spoilers, so read only if you wish.

I do not know exactly when this story takes place in the present Zayne’s timeline, but I am guessing that MC and Zayne are not yet in a romantic relationship.

I honestly did not like the way the story was written. I felt that certain aspects of Zayne’s character were not properly conveyed. Also, I did not like MC being a pushover — she has always been a strong yet amiable character in the game.

Seeing as I am upset about this Tender Moment, I have rewritten the ending. Self-serving, but who cares?🤷🏼‍♀️

So this entry will read as follows:

Summary > Rant > Rewrite.

I hope that despite my evident annoyance with this story, you would at least enjoy the rewritten version.😊

====================================

Summary

Apparently, MC contracted a bad cough and she goes to Akso Hospital and sees Dr Greyson, not Dr Zayne. Greyson prescribes her medicine and advises her to admit herself, which she was not inclined to do.

By this time, Zayne had already walked by the examination room once and she hid herself. But he had seen her and returned.

He helps himself to her medical record and repeats the same medical advice Greyson gave.

So, she admits herself, much to her chagrin, but forms the intention to escape in the night, which she does and gets caught by Zayne.

Strangely, Zayne doesn’t stop her, but offers to send her home.

In his car, she asked if he was mad at her for sneaking out and he says ‘no’ in a roundabout fashion, talking about catecholamine production and whatnot.

He drives her home and she gets better after a few days.

She returns to the hospital thereafter to collect her Hunter’s Health Certificate, which I assume hunters require in order to be granted or to renew a license to hunt.

The said certificate was sent directly to the hospital and Zayne has it with him because she needs to clear her cardiac evaluation.

She goes to see him and he refuses to sign the certificate and then abruptly ends the conversation by telling her to go find another doctor, because he has to get to a meeting.

Hence, the poor girl sits indefinitely at the waiting area thinking of what to do next — planning how she has to tell Cap. Jenna that her certificate would be delayed.

She (much) later receives a text message stating that her certificate was successfully submitted. The story then ends on a happy note.

====================================

Rant

Giving Zayne the benefit of doubt that he actually had a meeting to be at, there was no reason to tell MC to go find another doctor when he is her cardiac doctor and primacy care physician. Who else could she have gone to to get the certificate signed?

Compounding matters is the fact that he had aided her in escaping the hospital. Although not a crime even in such context, it is that he thought it was fine to ‘punish’ her for it that frustrates me.

Zayne knows that her job as a hunter is important to her. By not signing the certificate, it jeopardises her career, and we already know how Zayne feels about MC working as a hunter. Given that his actions were out of concern, it was still disproportionate and uncalled for.

Even if he attempts to draw clear lines between Zayne, the individual, who aided her out of the hospital, and Zayne, the doctor, there is still a clear overlap between what is personal and what is professional because he only knew of and encouraged the action through himself as the individual, yet made himself the judge, jury and executioner.

Sorry, Zayne, I disapprove. 👎

I heard that Zayne is an ISTJ, as am I. He’s a Virgo and I’m a Capricorn (both Earth zodiacs). I usually understand him and his actions, but this one bewilders me. Too OOC for my liking even if they are painting it as if he wanted to ‘teach her a lesson’.

MC, baby girl, I dont have your patience. I would have left the hospital the moment he told me to find another doctor and I will do just that to prove my point.

Still, I admit that I have a soft spot for Zayne and I picture the reconciliation differently. So here is my rewrite of the ending of the story.

====================================

Rewrite

Wearing a stern expression, Zayne got up and proceeded to leave the office, “You should go and find another doctor. I have a meeting soon.” He did not even care to look into your eyes as he made his way towards the door.

“Fine.” You uttered defeatedly. “If that is how you want to be, I understand.” Your words bore more formality in comparison to the ones used in your usual, casual conversations with him.

He paused, retracting the hand that had reached for the doorknob. “Excuse me?” His head tilted slightly just so he could glance at you from over his shoulder.

Needing to keep your composure, you inhaled and exhaled deeply. “I am saying that, I understand if you refuse to sign my certificate.” You swiped the certificate from his desk. “I will do as you have suggested and find another doctor — one who can be reasonable.”

By this time, Zayne had turned towards you, his eyes narrowing at the biting comment.

It took a lot for you not to crumple the paper in your hand from the anger that was flaring inside as you made your way towards the exit, coming close to where Zayne stood.

“Well? Are you going to keep standing in my way?” You seethed, returning him the disrespect of not looking him in the eyes while speaking to him. “My time may not be of equal importance to yours, but it is important to me nonetheless. As is my job.”

You had slipped between him and the door, but you hesitated to turn the handle, because slowly but surely, your composure was slipping. Your lips were trembling and your vision blurring from accumulated tears.

“Y/n..” he finally spoke. You could hear him turn to face you. “I’m—”

“Look, Zayne…” You interrupted, still refusing to regard him. You did not want him to see the droplets that were rolling down your cheeks. “You have made your choice and I would be a fool to hope that you’d change it.” Your voice broke slightly. “I shall not take up any more of your time.. Dr Zayne.”

You turned the doorknob but he catches you by the wrist, and pulled you flushed into him. A surprised gasp escaped your lips.

His warmth radiated around you. You hated that just this alone could comfort you. You hated that you could not maintain your anger towards him, as much as he deserved it this time.

You found yourself burying your face against the space between his chest and shoulder. The material of his lab coat absorbed the tears on your face. His scent filling your nostrils, soothing you against your will. The stiffness in your body ebbed away like a wave drawing back from the shore.

Clutching onto his lab coat with your free hand, you mumbled in a tone that was now soft and exhausted from the fall in adrenaline, “Did you not say you had a meeting be at?” He hummed a short, wordless reply, but made no further movement.

Gingerly, you looked up and found him returning your gaze. “I’m.. sorry for my outburst.” You muttered as you pulled away from him just slightly. “I’ll be leaving now.”

Still, Zayne did not loosen his arms which were wrapped around you. His green eyes reflected the remorse that he felt from hurt that he had caused. He started, “I apologise if I made you feel as though your job was insignificant. I should have been more… mindful of your feelings.”

“You are entitled to your opinion, Dr Zayne. In any case, the fault is mine — I ought to have listened to your advice. You have every right to not endorse the certificate. It’s just…” You paused, attempting feebly to leave his hold, but he held on fast. “It’s just that I cannot understand your refusal to acknowledge your participation that night. Do I embarrass you?”

His eyes widened at your words and he sighed. “Hardly” he said softly as he gently tucked the hair behind your ear. “It seems that the manner in which I believed would instil a lesson has backfired; and I admit that I am the one to blame.”

You smiled faintly, feeling the normalcy gradually returning between the two of you. He finally freed you from his arms and graced you with a small curl of his lips.

“So…. You admit that you were my accomplice?” You broke the silence, failing to hide the mischievous grin on your face.

He sighed, bringing his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I have no intention of implicating myself.”

Folding your arms at your torso, you huffed at him. “Fine, be that way.”

Another sigh, “Hand the certificate over.”

“Hmm?” You questioned.

Without waiting for you to comprehend his words, he retrieved the document from your hand, placed it flat against the door, and in a smooth motion, he appended his signature with his pocket pen. When he was done, he turned to hand it back to you.

“Zayne.. I don’t know what to say…” You murmured in disbelief.

He closed the distance between you to affectionately pat you on your head like he usually does. “Promise that you’d obey to your doctor’s orders moving forward.”

Feeling relieved that it all worked out in the end, you gave him your brightest smile as you nodded “Mm! I promise, Dr Zayne!”

[supersabbatical2024]

5/2/23: Morroco! Flew into Marrakech (as it is spelled here). We met a driver and had the most HARRRROWING ride through the city, flying through roundabouts, motorbikes weaving and crossing in front of us. I could have slapped a few youngsters on mopeds though my car window they were so close…as we got off the main roads and into the winding streets, I thought for sure pedestrians were going to start bouncing off our hood, bikes flying, but our driver? Completely Calm. No one on the streets seemed to have a thought that anything unusual, let alone death defying, was going on. A gal on a motorbike with a rider on the back drove right in front of our van and her helmet fell off…she was jiggling her helmet sloppily back on to her head while trying to wrap her other arm around her handlebars…I couldn’t look anymore but Claude was in the front seat and said we slid by her and moved on. Quite the expereince.

Then when the driver dropped us, we met another guy, Said, who would escort us the rest of the way to our accommodations on foot. We were headed to Riad* Fleur D’Orient, which was another 15 minute maze of tiny back alleys, ragamuffin cats and kittens EVERYWHERE, in boxes, bike seats, hopping through window grates. Later our guide, Amin, would tell us that while cats are not sacred, they are “Respected” around these parts, because in the old days, cats would show the people which water was safe to drink (??) and “save many lives.” OKAY.

Anyway, the route was swirly to say the least, incomprehensible to me how we would ever find our way out. I was getting that claustrophobic-adjacent feeling that I tend to get as we are journeying deep into the woods in Maine, or stepping onto a tiny airless boop of a plane to hop from San Juan to a small Caribbean island. Not saying I am not privileged and kind of excited to be doing these things, but makes me queasy anyway…

Marrakech is the kind of place where you feel very much in another world. Things look and feel very…different, and I have to admit it all made me slightly panicked. I guess we were all nervous about finding our way around, and I guess the locals anticipate this, because our riad host also escorted us to the restaurant that evening. But we did find our own way back after dinner!! The restaurant was in a large courtyard basically open to the sky and had a clubby vibe. Lots of people were dressed to the nines in big groups, and as the night wore on, the lights got dimmer and the DJ music got louder. Every once in awhile, giant sparklers lit up at a table, and the entire restaurant started yelling and clapping…for a birthday we presumed, although I’m not sure I heard much singing. But we gathered that this place was for gathering, and celebrating, and after a bottle of Morrocan wine between us, I kind of felt like dancing 💃 🕺

* A Riad is sort of an old home, Said told us, and this one has been in his family for a very long time. Grandmas and various relatives have lived in various rooms within the complex, and they rent out rooms to tourists as an alternative to a hotel. The whole building is set up around a courtyard, and always with a fountain at the center (there is a “no diving” sign at the tiny pool, which seemed obvious to me, but anyway…). Our little suite, “Dar Latifa” is quite, well, sweet!

[tavarillasgalen]

I have been doing personal training for about a month now (yes, expensive, but much cheaper than therapy and meds, which... how sad is that?) And I saw this car on my way to my first session. And it just... truly was a sign.

And of course, anything can be a sign if you want it to be. But I was truly in such a bad mental health spot, and I was like, I really don't want to go through the trouble of trying to find a therapist when... I've been through 14 different therapists over the years, and being bipolar means they usually want twice a week sessions, plus for you to be on mood stabilizers and whatever other meds (which means monthly appointments with a psychologist). Two therapists were really great, I did love them, but they were both so expensive and so far away. The rest were such a mixed bag. I had one therapist not believe me when I told her about a trauma while another therapist kept pressuring me to report the guy, which I wasn't going to do. And to me, therapy has never really been helpful - I do better just journaling through my thoughts and feelings.

And then meds - ugh. The first doctor I ever saw about meds was fantastic. He believed me about my trauma, he believed me about everything, he was actually the first to bring up "hm, are you sure this is just depression? Have you ever been diagnosed with bipolar?" He will forever have such a special place in my heart. But then other doctors... they act like you're being difficult when you complain about side effects or lecture you for not being on meds when they hear you have bipolar or they reduce you to a sobbing mess in the office because they refuse to believe you or even look up your chart to see that you're not lying about your history or they hear that you tend to have severe side effects to meds and are overly cautious with upping the dosage, so meds mostly just made me feel numb or sleepy and one kind of worked but it gave me such horrible eczema, I was literally scratching my skin off. And after trying all these different meds, I called it quits when one literally made me hallucinate - and I'm not someone who struggles with hallucinations, so that was terrifying.

And then idk. People hear "bipolar" and just... even healthcare professionals get alarmed when they hear that you're not in therapy and you're not on meds and treat you like you are just being difficult when you try to explain that those don't work for you. And no one believes you when you say you can manage it fine on your own.

Which is a very long, roundabout way to get around to being like, OK, my depression is getting really bad, but being active really, really helps me. And I need to get over this social anxiety thing and having someone there to hold you accountable and encourage you was really helpful to me before.

So, I got a personal trainer. Cheaper than therapy. And so much more helpful, for me, anyway.

And really... it has been so, so, so nice. It was exactly what I needed. He is nice, of course, it's part of his job to be. But it's not just him, it's the rest of the gym too. It's been the getting out and being active, and being active helps with stress and depression and anxiety so much by giving you a healthy outlet. I've had more positive interactions with other people in the past month than I have in forever - it gives me something to look forward to so much and makes me realize that people are mostly good, actually. It makes me realize my own capabilities and that if I am consistent, I am capable of growth and getting better. It makes me realize I'm good at things, like fashion (my gym outfits always get compliments), like my abs are strong (I have visible abs now!) and my legs are so strong, my personal trainer was shocked. My upper body is so weak, but it is stronger than it was, and continues to improve.

It helps me not regress into old eating disorder habits - something I was worried about with how they use a nutrition tracker. But if anything, my personal trainer has been looking at it and affirming that I mostly eat "good" (I hate assigning morality to food, but you know what I mean), but telling me I should be eating more than I am with how many calories I burn in my workouts. And with someone having an eye on your nutrition and telling you to eat more, it keeps that healthy relationship with food, which is a relief.

And truly, mentally, I'm still struggling a bit, but having goals at the gym, people I want to please like my trainer, something to look forward to like the sessions, and a healthy outlet for negative feelings, it's done wonders. And I'm making friends!!! Starting to, slowly!! And it's so nice!! I haven't had friends in years!

And I'm just so grateful that I'm in a position at the moment where I can afford this. Because my mental health was getting so bad. But this has helped more than therapy and meds has ever helped me. And I'm so thankful for that.

[warriorgardener]

March 4th

Wei Wuxian knelt down on the sidewalk in front of the kindergarten. “A-Yuan…” The toddler was distracted by a grasshopper so Wei Wuxian turned his face back with his hands and gently squished his cheeks, which were not as chubby as he wished they were. “A-Yuan, pay attention. Do you want ice cream?”

“Yes!” He threw his hands in the air in wild approval, waving them as if about to take flight from excitement alone.

“Okay, listen up. I need you to go inside and say ‘Gege, are you single?’, can you remember that?”

“What’s a single?”

“That’s not important. Just remember to ask him and tell me what he says, okay? Then we’ll get ice cream.”

A-Yuan nodded brightly, but then his smile faded into a grave expression out of place on such a tiny face. “It’s okay. I don’t need it, Xian-ge.”

Wei Wuxian’s heart pinched. Wen Yuan had not experienced ice cream since his birthday last year and the happy memory was still engraved in the forefront of his thoughts. Using it to bribe him at a time like this was already a little cruel, but faced with such altruism, Wei Wuxian’s guilt multiplied. He swore to himself that he really would bring home ice cream no matter what.

“Don’t be silly! You need ice cream to grow big and tall like me! I’m going to go get it right now. Go on, don’t be late.”

A-Yuan’s grin returned in full force. He ran towards the school doors. With his oversized backpack, he looked like a turtle waddling at full speed to win some kind of race. Wei Wuxian huffed a little laugh.

A tall, imposing man wearing a light blue apron appeared at the doorway to help him take off his backpack and coat. Although his face was as unyielding and stern as always, he let A-Yuan hug his legs and even patted his head once before guiding him inside. Their eyes met briefly, and the warm feeling in Wei Wuxian’s chest fluttered.

If only that stuffy Lan Wangji treated him with the same solitary ounce of sweetness he seemed to reserve for his students! With how willfully childish he acted around Lan Wangji, he thought some of that faint nurturing instinct would be sure to apply to him as well, but it only seemed to irritate him. Ah well, teasing Lan Wangji was fun. That’s why he wanted A-Yuan to ask such a thing, right? That was the only reason.

***

That ice cream almost got Wei Wuxian killed. It was one of the few things that was impossible to go dumpster diving for, so he went into a grocery store out of the way from their neighborhood, stuffed two ice cream bars into his jacket (damn near freezing his nipples off) and walked out. After that, he was in the clear and relaxed a bit, sticking to the alleys as he leisurely headed back towards the kindergarten to pick up his kiddo. It wasn’t easy to keep Wen Yuan in school, but he got fed well there and it kept him out of his hair long enough for Wei Wuxian to scrape together a living. Besides, Wen Yuan was already top of his class! He was the first one to learn his alphabet! He could probably graduate high school no problem, even go to college on a scholarship, and then maybe Wei Wuxian would be able to tell himself that he hadn’t failed in raising him.

Lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t seen the men smoking in the alley, never mind recognized them as “old friends” from his brief stint as a cardsharper. Needless to say, they weren’t happy to see him. Nor were they inclined to use their words so much as their fists. It took several blows for Wei Wuxian to finally recover his wits, fight back and make his escape. Just to be safe, he took an even more roundabout way to the kindergarten.

His throat burned with every step. His feet dragged. He stopped once to heave into someone’s unfortunate hedge, though there was not much in his stomach to come up. Once A-Yuan’s school came into view, he started running. No cars were parked by the entrance. The playground was empty. Wei Wuxian realized he was very, very late. His heart plummeted into his stomach. What if someone reported him for—for—shitty parenting, or something? What if A-Yuan was taken away from him? What if A-Yuan went home by himself? Would they allow something like that? Fuck the school system! How could they let a little boy walk all the way home like a sad little turtle?

His footsteps echoed through the empty hall, the walls covered with scribbled drawings and macaroni art. He knew exactly where Wen Yuan’s classroom was and slowed down as he neared it. A faint conversation came through the cracked door. Wei Wuxian hurriedly tried to put himself together. Without a mirror, it was hard to tell if he was presentable or not, but he straightened out his clothes and combed his hands through his hair.

“What’s a single?”

“It means there’s only one.”

“Are you a single teacher?”

“No,” said the voice patiently. “There are other teachers.”

“Oh…my mama is a single.”

“Wei Ying is not a mother…for several reasons.”

“He’s mine though.”

Wei Wuxian stopped frantically wiping the blood from his scraped knee and burst into the room before the conversation could get any worse. “A-Yuan! I’m late, I’m sorry—Lan Zhan, I’m really sorry.”

The two of them were sitting at a children’s table, Wen Yuan on an appropriately small chair and Lan Wangji on a less appropriately small chair. They seemed to be having some kind of tea party. The plastic scoops of ice cream on the table made Wei Wuxian sick all over again. He patted down his jacket. The ice cream bars in his pockets were squished and melted. Even with that small task, he had failed.

Wen Yuan bolted out of his chair so fast that it fell over.

“Don’t run,” Lan Wangji said mildly, but of course the boy didn’t listen.

He ran straight to Wei Wuxian and hugged his leg. “Xian-ge, you got hurt!”

Wei Wuxian laughed. “I tripped! Like Lan Zhan said, you shouldn’t run inside. I fell right on my face, hahahaha!” He swallowed and finally summoned the courage to look at Lan Wangji, hoping he wasn’t angry enough to call the cops.

Lan Wangji carried a dark expression he had never seen before, something adjacent to irritation but not quite. In the same patient, unerring tone, he ignored Wei Wuxian to speak to Wen Yuan, who looked like he did not know whether to laugh or cry. “Go wash your hands and we will put some bandaids on your mama.”

How could Lan Wangji say such a thing with a straight face?! Wei Wuxian was stunned speechless as A-Yuan happily ran out of the room to do as he was told. Lan Wangji immediately advanced on him.

“I can explain,” Wei Wuxian said. Without realizing it, he had backed himself against the wall. “I mean—I was telling the truth about tripping! Lan Zhan, cut me a break just this once. I’ll never be late again.”

Lan Wangji’s icy, unperturbed gaze lowered to Wei Wuxian’s lips. He anxiously rubbed them with the back of his hand. A small streak of blood came away. Dammit.

“Listen, it’s complicated, but—“ He swore under his breath. Why did he even try? No one could understand, certainly not someone so unerringly perfect as Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji held his chin, turning his face to each side, inspecting the red marks and scrapes in judgmental silence. Wei Wuxian was caught off guard by his close proximity, mesmerized by the length of his dark lashes and the dark eyes that looked him over inch by inch.

His gaze lifted, piercing Wei Wuxian through the heart. “Who did this to you?”

His low voice sent a shiver through Wei Wuxian, who immediately had to fight off gay thoughts. Thankfully, he was saved from having to respond, as A-Yuan bolted back into the room at that moment.

“I’m ready to be a doctor!”

The two of them separated quickly, almost guiltily. But as Wei Wuxian took a place at the tiny table in an equally tiny chair, letting Lan Wangji clean his scrapes with antiseptic and letting Wen Yuan clumsily apply bandaids anywhere he pleased, he couldn’t stop thinking about those words, that voice, the anger in his eyes that was not, as he was beginning to realize, directed at him this time.

Maybe Lan Wangji…Wei Wuxian shook his head at himself. No, certainly not. But just in case…

“Hey, Lan Zhan, are you single?”

[thegeminisage]

wait go on i unironically want your thoughts on john calling the car vs dean saying "she"

okay.

firstly, we are discussing the tags on this post

secondly, i want everybody to know that this meta is the reason i ended up cracking open john winchester’s journal last night and became patient zero for this whole damn website spiraling about dean killing dead gay nuns. it’s all because of this! this is why we’re here today! stupid car pronoun meta!

anyway.

this is jumping off the idea that the car is not just an extension of dean’s soul but his body and hhhhholy fuck when did that get that many notes. alright! anyway to recap: the car is an extension of dean - he lashes out at her in his moment of ultimate self-loathing (2.01), she becomes dirty and neglected when dean is in emotional turmoil (1.21, 13.01), she’s damaged when he’s hurt (in 2.01, in 5.22, just to name a couple of the most iconic examples), she was kept under a tarp (shroud!) during the year dean was emotionally dead (season 5/6 timeskip) and after dean ACTUALLY died for good in the accursed finale (she even showed up in heaven because obviously she’d go wherever he did), he is able to kill monsters with her, making her body a weapon just like his is (11.04), she and dean even get stolen/kidnapped at the same time (also 11.04). she’s full of personalization and personal items - sam and dean carved their initials into her, the legos and the toy soldier in the ashtray - this is akin to dean wearing sam’s amulet and his father’s jacket. he’s picky about who drives her (because there are a very limited number of people he trusts with his physical safety), he knows her inside and out the way one knows themselves, etc. 

dean also frequently refers to the car as both his only worldly possession and his home - she gives him a place to sleep, eat, and fuck when there’s nowhere else available. she gives him shelter in a world where there is none, privacy in a life that affords very little personal space.

dean, for the above reasons and more, treats the car like a person. he refers to her as “she” (almost exclusively - he used “it” when convincing a young john to buy her during 4.03, and there might be some early season examples i’m forgetting, but for the most part his pronoun usage is solid), he takes care of her better than he takes care of himself, devoting the kind of time and effort to her upkeep that he only devotes to family. she’s the woman of the family, so to speak, kind of the way dean is - they’re both acting as the stand-in for the missing mary, and he cherishes and values her. (the way a healthy individual might value themselves and their own physical well-being, if they didn’t have dean’s self-loathing attached.)

john, on the other hand, calls the car “it.” which isn’t really that weird by itself because most people use it pronouns for cars (sam calls the car an it too, it’s not necessarily an indicator of anything malevolent), except for the fact that john is a mechanic. much like a sailor is more likely to call a boat “she,” you’d think a mechanic would be similarly inclined to humanizing cars. considering that john was the one who TAUGHT dean how to care for a car, you’d think dean’s usage of “she” was yet another learned behavior, along with dean’s jacket and music and hypermasculinity. 

but john never refers to the car as “she,” only “it.” john may place some emotional value on the car, just the way he places some emotional value on dean, but NOTHING comes before his quest to avenge mary. (if you were wondering, this is what sam was doing while dean was killing dead gay nuns.)

the car is important, but her biggest importance lies not in her being part of the family, but in her being part of the hunt. she’s a tool, a blunt instrument, just like dean. john uses her to get places and cart his kids around the country and sleep when he has nowhere else to go. 

a good example of how john only sorta-kinda values the car can be found in his journal entry for dean’s 18th birthday:

john wanted to give dean SOMETHING, and while he was reluctant to part with the car (“i’ll still be driving it”), but when push came to shove and he couldn’t find anything else, she did just fine in a pinch. 

could you imagine dean EVER giving away his car? every time he has, it’s been prior to his own death, or what he thought would be his death. and aside from the times when no family was around (2.10 comes to mind), she was always given to a member of his family, blood or otherwise - usually sam, who dean knows best and trusts above all others.

since the car is dean’s body, you can pretty directly compare this to john holding dean’s own physical freedom and autonomy over his head well after he reaches the age of traditional adulthood. that john only truly let dean be in charge or the car and keep it for himself once john ABANDONED him speaks more to john’s interest in controlling his tools than it does to him wanting to do something kind for dean.

the car is dean, and dean is the car. for dean, this means she is the only way he is able to take care of and love himself, even if in a very roundabout way. for john, that means caring a little - but not caring about anything more than mary. in the end, everything, even dean’s own humanity, comes second to revenge. no matter how perfect and powerful your tools and weapons are, no matter how much you may care about them, they’re made to be used - and, when they’ve outlived their usefulness, to be discarded.

[spn masterpost]

[letsloveimagines]

Title: Crush II

Pairing: Corpse Husband x fem!youtuber!reader

Collab with: @the-winter-sxldier-posts

Requested by: Anonymous

Request:  You HAVE to write a part 2 of crush where they meet! It would be so cuteeee!

Word Count: 1667

Warnings: a little swearing but mostly fluff

Note: The images doesn’t belong to me, all the credits go to the respective creators. I only made the collage. Also, I will not make anything to make Corpse uncomfortable, if he ends saying he doesn’t like fanfiction about him, I will delete this.

Part I: Here

                                                           ♦⋅☆⋅♦ Y/N pressed her left foot on the clutch pedal, turned the car key and heard the engine roaring loudly afterwards. She added the address on the GPS, looked at herself in the mirror for a moment taking a deep breath, trying to stay calm and focused. She put the car in first gear, and started driving from her apartment complex's private parking lot to the main road.

As her small and comfortable car drove through the streets of Los Angeles, the girl kept listening to what was on the radio. Every now and then, her stomach would churned with nervousness but she would take a deep breath and smile uncertainly to herself, trying to convince herself that everything would be okay.

Fed up with the podcast she was listening to, turned her car's Bluetooth on when she had to stop at a red traffic light, she switched to her current favorite Playlist.

Distracted by the music and humming softly accompanied by Rihanna's voice, she put the first gear back on, moving the car forward when the traffic light turned green, quickly shifting to the second and then putting on the third.

Her mind was racing, however.

Life had gone well since that specific day... since Y/N and Corpse confessed their feelings to each other. Their mutual friends that they played with knew the truth and were extremely happy for them, which was wonderful and soothing. Outside of them, no one else knew what had happened.

Corpse and Y/N talked every day, stayed on the phone every night until one of them fell asleep unfortunately, the girl always fell asleep first, and saw each other through FaceTime whenever they could.

In other words, the two could say that they were basically dating already... Even though there was never a real question. But perhaps that was about to change, for the day had finally come when they would meet physically.

A sound of receiving a phone call invaded the car and interrupted her thoughts. With a smile on her lips already knowing who was, Y/N clicked on the answer button and waited while entering a roundabout.

"Hey." That characteristic deep voice was heard.

"Hey you." She replied while looking briefly at his name written on the car screen.

"Are you on your way yet?"

"Yes, I just left the house. I'll be there In about two hours, depending on the traffic today."

Corpse cleared his throat and Y/N almost visualized him playing with his rings, and messing with his dark curly hair. "Are you sure you haven't forgotten anything?"

"Well, I hope not. I’ve had my bags packed for two days, but I think I have everything that is necessary with me. If not, there is no problem really." She replied.

"This is going to... This is really going to happen isn't it?" She could hear the smile in the man's voice.

"Yes, Corpse, it is. We will finally meet in person."

"I can't wait to see you." He whispered.

Y/N felt her cheeks warm for a moment, and she knew that if she looked in the mirror she would see a dark pink tone on her skin. She bit her lower lip in an attempt to stop the huge smile. "I can't wait to give you a big hug and tell you everything face to face."

Corpse laughed deeply, his tone was warm and full of emotion. "I know... I am anxious, and I am not going to lie about it. I'm super nervous. My hands are shaking so much that I don't even know how I haven't dropped my phone yet."

"Oh, Corpse..." Y/N whispered with a heavy heart, but was attentive to the road at the intersection where she was. "There is no reason to be nervous, it's just me. It’s just us."

"I know..." He sighed softly. After a few minutes without speaking, enjoying the comfortable silence between the two and listening to the sound of the Y/N’s car motor, he continued. "Well..." Corpse cleared his throat. "I will let you concentrate on your driving. Be careful and pay attention to the road."

"I will, I’ll see you later."

"Bye."

"Bye, Corpse."

The call ended but the anxiety and nervousness did not. However, only the sound of his voice and the small conversation they had was able to make Y/N smile all the way to San Diego.

                                                          ♦⋅☆⋅♦ 

Y/N pressed the turn signal, the green arrow flashing to the right, and parked the car in an empty parking space in front of the building. The woman's neutral and almost robotic voice came from the GPS saying: You have reached your destination. Shaking in her place, the girl put on the brake and turned off the car, taking a deep breath trying to calm herself once more.

It was now or never... Should she send him a message to let him know she was already there? Should she just knock on the door? Her hands were shaking so much, and her heart was beating so hard and so fast that it almost hurt.

She sat in the driver's seat for a few more minutes, so nervous she might pass out. It is better to just go there, she thought, the longer it takes the more nervous I will become.

She took a deep breath, unbuckled her seat belt, removed the keys from the ignition and quickly got out of the car, closing the door behind her, and going to the trunk to remove the pink suitcase. When it was on the floor next to her, she closed the trunk and locked the car safely, looking at the intimidating building in front of her.

Without further ado she approached it, opened the entrance door, climbed the stairs with some difficulty to his floor, and trembling, she shyly knocked on the door with her knuckles.

That door was opened so fast that it even scared her.

They were both looking at each other almost stunned... Finally they were there, in person, just a meter away and with a spine of the door separating them. Corpse was even more beautiful in person, and Y/N found herself lost in his dark eyes for a while.

"Hi..." She said sheepishly.

Corpse looked at her examining her from head to toe as if he couldn't believe she was real. Finally he smiled so beautifully that she almost forgot to breathe. "Hi." He replied.

Y/N dragged the suitcase a little closer to her, uncertain how to proceed. She didn't have time to think, however, as Corpse seemed to get tired of the waiting and shyness between them, crossed the space between the two and took her in his arms. His body was warm against hers, extremely hot, and his embrace was loving and passionate. Y/N inhaled his attractive scent - a mixture of soap, men's perfume and something else - and Corpse laughed through her hair.

"You’re here!" He exclaimed loudly, laughing deeply, spinning in circles with her still in his arms laughing out loud like he was.

When the two were inside the apartment, Corpse released her and pulled her suitcase inside as well, closing the door to prevent any curious neighbor from trying to see what was going on.

The two of them stayed there with smiles so big on their faces that their cheeks hurt… But it was definitely a good pain.

"I don't even know what to say..." Y / N confessed, practically shaking with excitement in her place.

Corpse smiled again, taking her hand timidly and gently, caressing her skin and interlacing their fingers and pulling her closer to him. "Me neither."

They were silent just enjoying the moment, and enjoying the fact that they were there, together... that it was real. How many times had they imagined this? How many times had they dreamed of that moment?

Corpse lowered his head slightly looking into her eyes intently, but his brows furrowed as if something troubling was going through his mind. "I…"

"What is it?" Y/N questioned worriedly.

Corpse made a shy expression. “Can I… Can I kiss you?”

Y/N's cheeks caught fire but her smile was so big, and she was so happy that she felt like she was going to explode at any moment. "Yes! Yes, of course you can…"

The young man approached, with his hand on Y/N's waist to pull her closer and the other one climbing up her arm, her shoulder, then her neck and resting on her burning cheek, where he was caressing the hot skin. Their fresh, labored and nervous breaths mingled, closing the distance until their lips touched, finally in what felt like an explosion of fireworks or an explosion of magic. Corpse's lips were soft and warm against hers, kissing her tenderly, as he brought their bodies together even more almost as if he was afraid that she would disappear at any moment.

The kiss was a mixture of lips and tongues, longing, passion and mostly love. It ended faster than they would have liked, but they stayed in each other's arms, sharing passionate smiles.

After a moment, Corpse whispered, "I still think this is a dream, and that I'm going to wake up after the normal three fucking hours that I can barely sleep."

Y/N laughed with her heart leaping and butterflies in her belly, playing with the laces of the black sweatshirt he had worn that day, wrapping it around her fingers and looking him in the dark eyes. "Me too, I've pinched myself hundreds of times today just to make sure this was real. But if this is a dream, I don't want to wake up anymore."

"I will punch the face of anyone who tries to wake me up." Corpse joked making Y/N let out the laugh he liked so much to hear.

"I love you." She whispered dizzy with emotion.

"That’s good, because I love you too."

                                                         ♦⋅☆⋅♦

Tag List: @breathygasps​ @unicornblood4ever  @mintchip17  @jay-jay-love

[thevibraniumveterans]

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

Are you sure about that, Loki? Are you extra, extra sure about that?

Because you:

1. Joined a task force to look for Sylvie (even though you didn’t know her then) and entered the same tent she had just disappeared from mere seconds before;

2. Thought that she was you (which later she would disagree with and say “if anything, you’re me” but anyway) and therefore pretty darn easy to locate;

3. Wouldn’t at first accept the fact that she was superior to you (well, y’all are equals, and maybe she’s better than you, but we’ll get to that later);

4. Theorized with your new friend Mobius that she was hiding in apocalypses by stealing his salad and then proceeding to absolutely destroy it doing so;

5. Visited freakin’ POMPEII to prove said theory and then actually proved your theory correct;

6. Used a candy from the future as a clue to find out where she might’ve taken her next steps, and cross referenced it with the many apocalypses she might’ve been in;

7. Actually found an apocalypse that she ends up being in (Alabama 2050);

8. Went to said apocalypse to look for her (you seem pretty invested in looking for her at this point);

9. Found her first enchantment victim who then passed the enchantment onto her second victim (B-15, looking at you), whom you still thought was you;

10. Found her third enchantment victim who told you not to call her a Loki (which she’ll do again, don’t worry);

11. Acknowledged through her fourth enchantment victim that she was different than you for the first time (“I would never treat me like this,” you said);

12. Followed her through a Time Door back to the TVA after meeting her for the first time;

13. Somehow allowed her to get the best of you even though you probably didn’t mean for that to happen;

14. Grabbed her stolen TemPad and landed the both of y’all in yet another apocalypse, the worst one yet actually, one that she’s probably been to before;

15. Tried to shield her from a falling meteor, to which she said she didn’t need your help (I mean, did you have a reason to save her then?);

16. Called her weird (I mean, that’s funny as hell, I gotta give you that);

17. Opened a door for her and let her enter the mining shack first before you did;

18. Literally let down your guard around her (yes, you’re tired from all that running, but still);

19. Somehow didn’t even stop her from putting both her hands on your neck in an attempt to enchant you (it looked romantic as hell, dude, and how were you not even opposed to her doing that, given both of y’all’s antagonism toward each other?);

20. Told her mockingly “In my heart” when she asked you where you hid her stolen TemPad (I mean, you could have said literally anything else but you went for “in my heart”, okay, I see where this is going);

21. Kind of agreed with her when she said you needed her to get out of Lamentis, “you need me” being the key phrase;

22. Asked her where she was going, and followed her;

23. Acknowledged that she’s not a Loki (yay!), or at least the fact that she doesn’t want to be referred to as one;

24. Followed her into an abandoned mining town where you thought you could fool a resident who chose to stay (you couldn’t);

25. Let her get away with teasing you about your failed efforts;

26. Playfully grabbed her by the shoulders from behind as you used your magic to conjure up a guard’s outfit for yourself (which you looked absolutely hilarious in, by the way, that helmet did not help one bit);

27. Sat down with her at a booth on the train, just the two of you (I’m not calling this anything else other than a date, at this point, to be honest);

28. Told her a wistful story about your mother and how she taught you magic and how she believed in you;

29. Showed her a miniature version of the fireworks you said your mother once conjured up for you, in an attempt to make her happy (I mean, those are beautiful fireworks, and she likes them too!);

30. Playfully conjured up a feather and quill to tease her about saying “Love is hate” (she finds you funny, she just doesn’t want to admit it);

31. Asked her whether she’s got anyone waiting for her when her mission’s complete (well, she did give a sarcastic answer but that’s not my point);

32. Admitted to her that you courted both princes and princesses in the past as part and parcel of being royalty;

33. Disagreed on love being mischief (what does that even mean?!) and then told her that you might need a bit more of champagne to really get that line of thought going;

34. Sang (I’m sorry, serenaded is a better word) her a song about a fair maiden waiting for her beloved to return home (you’ll find out how prophetic that would be in due time, don’t worry);

35. Decided that a dagger was your best metaphor for love (what, does being inebriated make you better at metaphors now?)

36. Let her get mad at you for getting drunk on the train (tbh, that’s kinda your fault, but there was literally nothing else to do, so) and breaking her TemPad (honestly, how do you even break a TemPad when it’s hidden in one of your magic pockets?! How?!);

37. Asked her if she felt better after that frustration-fueled scream (I mean, that’s kinda the first time you’re looking out for her, because that’s about to get real routine);

38. Went along with her after she sarcastically suggested that y’all both should try to get the Ark off the moon, fully knowing the impossibility of doing so;

39. Bantered teasingly with her about enchantment;

40. Believed her on a dime’s drop when she said that everyone who worked that the TVA were Variants, just like the two of you;

41. Let her grab your hand before the both of you ran around the back of the Ark’s docking station in order to find another boarding point;

42. Asked her if she was okay after the both of you got knocked back by an explosion (aww, you do care for her, how sweet!);

43. Finally called her by her name just before the Ark exploded;

44. Apologized to her for ruining her mission and dooming the both of y’all to die on an exploding moon;

45. Sat and listened to her explain her motives for her mission, before telling her that though people like the both of you may lose in sometimes painful ways, y’all always survive one way or another;

46. Freakin’ COMPLIMENTED her (that’s a first), and while the both of you sat waiting for the explosion to wipe the both of you off the map, you took her hand for the first time after she put her hand on your forearm (lovely, by the way);

47. Looked longingly and sadly at her when the both of y’all were hauled back to the TVA for interrogation and then subsequently separated;

48. Denied, when interrogated (is questioned a better word?) by Mobius, that you and her are partners (ha, you’ll soon be, in more ways than one, if you weren’t already), with a look on your face that absolutely betrays your true feelings for her;

49. Couldn’t even sell your lie about meeting her to Mobius that he had to lie right back to you;

50. Thought she was dead and felt so worried for her (you should’ve seen your face!);

51. Asked if she was alive and then SIGHED IN RELIEF when you were assured that she’s still alive (oh, have you got it bad for her, and you know it);

52. Denied that she’s your girlfriend the first time Mobius teases you with that word;

53. Spilled your emotions and your feelings for her on the table when you told Mobius about how much you believe her about everyone at the TVA being Variants;

54. Didn’t even deny it the second time he called her your girlfriend;

55. When asked by Mobius if you cared about Sylvie, you didn’t know if “care” was the right word;

56. Straight-up told him, “I believe her” with such emotional conviction it’s hard to see it as anything else;

57. Nodded your head at her when the both of y’all were reunited at the very same elevators you met in front of (how poetic) and she asked you if you’re okay;

58. Literally had her back when the both of y’all fought the guards in the Timekeepers’ chambers;

59. Got distracted when she got knocked down to the floor by Judge Renslayer;

60. Were on the brink of telling her how you feel about her, telling her that revealing your emotions was kind of a new experience;

61. Decided the best option was to place your hands just by her shoulders for whatever reason;

62. Let go of her so that she wasn’t pruned like you were;

63. Admitted in a roundabout way in just three words that she was your glorious purpose (priorities shifted, eh?)

64. Proudly proclaimed that her being terrifying was the very thing that made her so brilliant;

65. Literally puffed out your chest when you said, “she needs me” (she will, much later, don’t worry);

66. Revealed that she’s the only one you do trust (oh, the way your voice just softens when you speak about her…);

67. Planned an unwise sneak attack (that would’ve involved stabbing a cloud, I mean…) on freakin’ ALIOTH because you believed that doing so would bring you back to her when you really had no idea whether it would or would not;

68. Ran down the hill you were on to reunite with her (classic reunion move, pity you didn’t complete it by hugging her, but I guess you’re not there yet) when she arrived by car and asked her if she’s okay (looks like it’s becoming a habit);

69. Hilariously tried to unsuccessfully argue, through telling her that you’ve been in the Void longer than she has (maybe for like, an hour or two? IDK) that stabbing a cloud with a dagger was your best line of defense;

70. Sat next to her and had a conversation with her, during which you…;

71. Said it was cold (whether it was or wasn’t, isn’t important), so you…;

72. Conjured up a blanket for yourself before asking if she wanted one as well and proceeded to deny that your budding romantic connection with her was the both of y’all’s nexus event;

73. Followed that up with revealing that your nexus event with her felt great, it was a nice moment (aww);

74. Proceed to deny it as another TVA lie (you really need to work on talking about your feelings!);

75. Reassured her that you don’t know what the both of y’all are doing with regards to this relationship you both have with each other;

76. Playfully wrapped part of your blanket around her shoulders (double aww, that’s the classic “I’m gonna fake yawn and drop my arm around her shoulders, y’all think she’ll notice” kind of move, and yes, she did, and she likes it) and smiled giddily like the lovesick puppy you are;

77. Acknowledged in a roundabout (and maybe not so subtle) way that she loves you;

78. Pledged to not betray her, to not let her down, because you’re not that kind of person anymore;

79. Adorably nudged her when you asked her what her plans were when all was said and done;

80. Suggested that the both of y’all could figure things out… “together”, you said (triple aww!);

81. Handed the TemPad she gave you to Mobius and told her, “You go, I go” (I mean…);

82. Let her take your hand before you went to attempt to enchant ALIOTH;

83. Interlocked both of y’all’s fingers while y’all were at it;

84. Walked hand in hand to the Citadel at the End of Time;

85. Asked her if everything’s okay after she becomes nervous before entering the Citadel;

86. Got really unimpressed when that creepy ghost clock offered the both of you a chance to rule the TVA together;

87. Stated that “We write our own destiny now”, cementing the fact that you and her are an item;

88. Warned her to not listen to He Who Remains;

89. Tried to stop her by warning her about the possible consequences of her actions;

90. Suggested that the best plan of action was to take a minute to think of whether allowing a multiversal war was better than the alternative both of y’all never wanted (unfortunate as it was to be a damned-if-you-do-damned-if-you-don’t situation);

91. Got upset when she told you she felt like you betrayed her (don’t worry, you didn’t);

92. Clashed blades with her even though you clearly didn’t want to;

93. Told her “No” when she suggested that you kill her and take a throne you never wanted;

94. Let her blade fall to your neck to get her to stop and consider;

95. Said to her that this feeling of revenge, bloodlust isn’t worth it because you’d once been in her shoes;

96. Told her that you didn’t want to hurt her (after acknowledging that she’s been hurt by the TVA for a lifetime) and that all you wanted was for her to be okay;

97. Shared a kiss with her.

98. Deepened that kiss (you know you did…);

99. Grieved the misfortune of not just losing her but also the outcome of recent events, knowing that what she had to do was her life’s mission that you’d previously supported her on;

100. Went up to a changed Mobius and told him by referring to her, “We made a terrible mistake. We freed the Timeline. We found him beyond the storm.”

And if that doesn’t say “she’s become my girlfriend and I’m damn proud of her”, I don’t know what does.

-

Go get her, Loki. Go get Sylvie back. We’re betting on it.

[ieattaperecorders]

“I’m rambling again aren’t I?” and “Is that okay with you?” for the jmart prompt please :)

Cannon compliant, 1.4k, set at the end of S4. Prompt from here.

---

Cash only, no IDs, change directions at least twice. That was what Basira advised, so they were taking a roundabout route - train to bus to train again, a walk to another station, and then a third train to the outskirts of a town near a village near an isolated cabin. Someplace to hide.

Each time they stopped Jon would grab maps and brochures to stuff in his pockets, studying them carefully during quiet moments. Something about being prepared to act as if they were headed to a different destination if anybody asked.

Nobody did ask, and in any case Jon would have probably looked weird and suspicious, throwing in needless details about whatever place they were meant to be visiting. But it was painfully endearing, the way he poured over them, concentrating like he was prepping for an exam. One hand holding the brochure, the other usually clasped over Martin's or pawing at the fabric of his sleeve.

At one point, Jon's hand absently came to rest on Martin's knee. He flinched -- surprised at the unfamiliar contact, at the intimacy. Then he covered Jon's hand with his own, keeping careful around the edge of the wide, angry scar Jude Perry had left.

It had been so long since anyone touched Jon gently. It had been so long since anyone touched Martin at all.

* * *

There'd been a quick, fearful trip to Martin's flat so he could pack a bag. Jon barely let go of him the entire time, as if scared that he might still disappear. (Maybe he was scared. Maybe he was right to be.) He frowned when, after only a few minutes, Martin zipped up a small bag of clothes and toiletries and said that he was ready.

"You . . . may want to look around a bit," he said softly. "See if there's anything else you want to take. We might not be able to come back here."

"Thought the idea was to get in and out quickly. And shouldn't we be traveling light?"

"We can spare another minute. Besides . . . ." he bit his lip. "You might want to keep a few things. Even if they don't seem important. You may end up missing them if you lose this place."

Martin glanced around. The truth was he'd been living sparsely for a while. Bit by bit, he'd boxed up and donated most of his personal things over the last several months. It had just felt right.

(Jon's flat was long gone. He only had the small satchel he'd been carrying, and a plastic bag of thrift store clothes that Basira had gotten for him.)

He ended up grabbing a few books, a notebook he hadn't written in for a while, a couple of cheap pens, and a scarf that he'd always liked. The small carved box his grandfather had given him ages ago went in the bag too -- he'd never found anything to put in it, but he'd kept it all these years and it still smelled pleasantly like cedar.

Despite Jon's insistence they could spare another minute, he spent the entire time Martin packed bouncing restlessly on his heels, his gaze flicking back and forth between the windows.

"God, it's cold in here," he whispered.

". . . Is it?"

"Yes. Colder than outside . . . noticeably so," Jon looked at him sadly. "You can't feel it?"

Martin shook his head. He hadn't noticed.

"Suppose I'm used to it," he said.

Gravely, Jon nodded. He took Martin's hand and squeezed. Martin held back for a moment, then pointed out it was hard to pack with one hand, and Jon awkwardly let go. Another minute and they were done.

As they made for the door, Martin noticed Jon shivering and thought Basira ought to have gotten him a heavier coat.

"Hold on."

He made a detour to the closet, grabbed one of his thicker jackets and held it out. It would swim on Jon, but at least it was something.

"Dunno if it works on supernatural cold spots, but it'll be cold in Scotland too," he explained. "You'll want more than a windbreaker."

Jon stared at him for a moment, then swallowed heavily and nodded. As he put it on, folding the sleeves back so his hands would fit out, Martin noticed him wiping at his eyes.

Was he tearing up? Why? It was only a jacket, one Martin was probably going to lose anyway.

Jon held his hand all the way to the train station.

* * *

They didn't talk about the Lonely on the train. They didn't talk about any of it there, not the Institute, the entities, the attack. It was all too risky if they were overheard.

Instead, Jon talked about the places they weren't going, the things he read about as they went. Describing historical points of interest or natural features, sometimes adding a jarringly morbid fact that Martin was sure he hadn't gotten from the brochures. He suspected part of it was an attempt to engage him, as Martin found himself going long stretches saying next to nothing.

It was nice, though, listening to him chatter on as if they were out on holiday. Sitting there with the landscape going by, the rumble of the train around them and Jon talking about some landmark or another, Martin could pretend they were just out seeing the sights. Traveling on their own time, without a care in the world.

As it got late into the night, he realized the train car they were in was empty. It was the last one that ran, and there hadn't been many on it to begin with, so it wasn't much of a surprise. But with no one else there, they had a chance to speak more freely.

"Jon?" Martin nudged him, interrupting his description of a stone burial site a few miles down the line.

"Hmm?" Jon started, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry. I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"It's not that. Was just thinking . . . I know the plan is to keep moving, but we'll have to wait for the morning train anyway. Wouldn't make a difference if we got a cheap hotel room or something tonight, would it?"

"Oh . . . no, I don't think it would," he shuffled through some papers in his lap, peering at the train schedule. "Actually, in that case we may want to take the next stop, rather than going to the end of the line. There's a motel near the station that could be perfect. It's cash only, and the only security camera is over the safe."

"Did you See that?"

"Not deliberately. There's just, ah . . . " he winced, "been a lot of really gruesome murders there."

"Ah. Right." Martin raised an eyebrow. "Are we going to get gruesomely murdered if we stay there?"

"Well it's not a service they provide."

"But we do have murderers after us."

"True . . . and I don't think this place would be much protection if they caught up. But the same could be said about a bench outside the train station," Jon shrugged. "And I don't believe it's supernatural, just a bit shady. Which is probably what we want at the moment."

Martin nodded. Then, with a smirk, asked "does it have a pool?"

"Yes. And so many people have drowned in it."

". . . Hmm."

Jon's deadpan look broke into a smile. "I've no idea if there's a pool. Probably not."

"Pfff," Martin reached an arm out over his shoulders, and Jon leaned into the embrace, smiling. "The Beholding didn't think to list amenities, then? Not even an evil laundry service or, like, a continental breakfast that eats you?"

"Thankfully not."

"Good enough for me, then."

He felt Jon chuckle against him and leaned back, yawning loudly, thinking about how nice it would be to lie down in a bed. Jon shifted a little and sighed, looking at him with a smile.

"I love you," he said. Soft and warm, as if he'd said it a thousand times before. As if it was natural and obvious and easy.

Martin must have gone noticeably tense, or maybe his expression changed, because Jon's eyes widened and he looked down, fidgeting. Worried he'd made a mistake.

"Is that, ah . . . okay with you?" he added weakly.

Almost dizzy with it all, Martin let out a breath that turned into an unsteady laugh. He felt tears pricking at his eyes, and he squeezed Jon tighter.

"Y-yeah," he whispered, "yeah Jon. S'good."

[can-youimagine]

Love and Loss Part 9 (Aaron Hotchner x Reader)

Summary: You were in love with Aaron Hotchner, but life got in the way. What happens when years later, he comes back?

TW: Feminine Reader

Word Count: 978

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

You breathe a sigh of relief when you hear the first knock on the door.

Your girls come racing to open it. “Uncle Spencer!” they cheer and immediately wrap themselves around his legs.

“Thank you so much,” you say, giving him a smile. “Jack and Aaron are doing one last room-check, then we’ll be going. We should be back around dinner. You have our numbers if-”

“I’ve got it, (Y/N),” he assures you.

“I know.” You go over the ‘babysitter checklist’ every time he comes over. You’re honestly surprised he hasn’t cut you off sooner. “I’m just a little frazzled.”

Aaron and Jack make their way into the living room with a backpack of nearly forgotten items. Aaron greets his former co-worker while Jack says goodbye to his sisters.

“We did good,” Aaron whispers, pressing a kiss to your head.

You hum in response. Watching Jack and the girls for a few minutes before telling them it’s time to leave. The girls, understandably, protest, but Spencer swoops in with a magic trick to distract them just long enough for you to leave.

Jack and Aaron drive down together, leaving you alone in your car. There are a few blankets in your backseat that you insisted he take, but other than that, you have nothing. You take this opportunity to drive a little bit slower. Let Aaron get the heavy stuff.

Naturally, you show up ten minutes late, just long enough for them to have unloaded the car, with three drinks in hand. Aaron glares at you but takes the drink.

“You’re late,” Jack states, not looking out of the closet.

“Thought I’d get you a drink.”

He comes out, taking a sip from the drink before murmuring that you are forgiven. Jack’s roommate comes in just as the three of you are finishing up. Luckily, the two of them bond instantly.

You quietly set a card on Jack’s desk. “We’ve got to leave soon. Is there anything we can get you?”

He shakes his head before giving you each a hug. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“We’re gonna miss you, too,” you answer. Aaron is quite certain he’s going to start crying as soon as he opens his mouth. “Don’t forget to call us.”

He chuckles. “I won’t.”

“We love you, and we are so so proud of you.”

“I love you too.”

Aaron manages to choke out that it’s time for you to leave before giving Jack another hug. On the way back, Aaron makes you take a roundabout way home just so he will calm down before he sees the girls.

When he manages to calm down, he rushes straight to the girls, holding both of them tight against him.

“Thank you again, Spence,” you say. “You are more than welcome to stay for dinner.”

“I would but I-uh-”

You laugh. “You don’t have to.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you later.”

“Drive safe.”

He nods and heads out the door, leaving you with your little family. A pizza arrives as the four of you sit in the living room. You are quite certain that Aaron has not let the girls leave his arms the entire time he’s been home.

“Don’t worry, Daddy,” your youngest pipes up. “I’m not gonna go to college. School is boring.”

“We’ll talk about that later,” you say before Aaron can encourage her to drop out at the ripe age of five.

He finally lets the girls go once they start to fall asleep. “I can’t do this two more times,” he whispers.

You sit on the bed next to him. “You can.”

He doesn’t argue with you. Instead, he lays on top of you. “Do you think he’s okay?”

“Aaron. He’s fine. He’s making friends and having fun.”

“But what if he’s not?”

You run your fingers through his hair. “If he’s not, he knows he can come back, and we’ll help him.”

“I hate college,” he grumbles. “Always taking my favorite people away.”

You laugh loudly. “If I had never gone to college, I never would have been Jack’s teacher.”

“If I hadn’t gone to college, I never would have left you.”

“That’s not the point.”

“I know, I know-” your phone ringing cuts him off.

“It’s Jack,” you say before answering. Aaron grumbles something about him calling you first, but you aren’t listening. “Hey, bud, what’s up?”

“I love you, mom. I love you so much,” he whispers. “I just- thank you for your card. I never realized what it meant for you to be my mom, but I-I’m so glad you are.”

“I’m always gonna be your mom.”

“I know.” He pauses for a moment before changing the subject. “Dad doesn’t know about you being preg-”

“Nope. I’m not sure he could handle that right now.”

He chuckles. “You’re probably right. Is there any chance you can wait to tell him until I come back?”

“I think he might catch on by then, but I think Lydia can figure out how to hold the phone and record it.”

“Record what?” Aaron says, unable to help himself.

Jack laughs again. “I’ll let you deal with that. I’ve got to go. There’s an event fair in the morning that Chris wants to go to, so I’ve actually got to get up in the morning.”

“Have fun. We love you.” Aaron echoes you.

“I love you guys, too. Bye.”

As soon as you put the phone down, Aaron is on you, trying to figure out what you were talking about. “What would you have to record?”

“I can’t tell you yet.”

“But you can tell Jack?”

“Well, I don’t want him to be completely surprised when he comes back.”

“Surprised with what?”

“You’re a profiler. I honestly thought you would know by now.”

He freezes. That’s the same thing you said to him the first time you were “Pregnant?” he whispers. “You’re pregnant.”

[twstedbeauty]

Just found your blog, and I love it! May i ask for headcannons of Riddle, Vil, Malleus and Idia watching their designated Disney movie with their s/o?(akin Vil, Snow White, Riddle Alice in Wonderland, Malleus, sleeping beauty)

I’m going to assume that they would have the movies in this world since they canonly have The Little Mermaid adaksdjaksdjas

Riddle Rosehearts 

Riddle is still getting used to relaxing and having fun, so watching movies is still rather new to him. 

He sits rather stiffly on the couch at first, not really sure how he should sit, but he’ll slowly relax once you join him. 

 On the whole, I think Riddle would actually really enjoy Alice in Wonderland. It’s very colorful and whimsical and there’s something about it that gives him an almost nostalgic feeling. 

He’d appreciate Alice as a protagonist, but I do think he’d find her a little annoying with how she thinks and does things at times. 

“Who in their right mind just chases after a rabbit into a hole in the ground?” You hear him mutter and you can’t help but smile to yourself. 

The Cheshire Cat immediately reminds him of Che’nya. 

Riddle is immediately impressed by the Queen of Hearts entrance. She comes on screen and has this air of intimidation and power. 

He points out some parts of the movie that reflect real life Heartslabyul rules! Like the rule about painting the roses, the rule about no cats at parties.

I think the part with the court scene he would find a little silly and quite exaggerated, however. 

"So, it was all just a dream?" Riddle watched the credits roll with a rather confused look. "That wasn't satisfying at all!" You couldn't help but giggle at that.

"It's explained at the beginning! She wanted a world of her own, so she made one up herself~" Riddle just blinks owlishly at you at that, which just makes you laugh again.

He'll have to go and have some time to himself, probably having a mental crisis over what is real and what isn't.

Vil Schoenheit 

Vil loves watching movies, so when you suggest watching a movie from your world, of course he’s all for it. 

Knowing him, he’s no doubt seen the movie already, but he’s not opposed to watching it with you. 

The Beautiful Queen summoning the spirit of the Dark Mirror scene makes a proud smirk come to Vil's face. He can't help but feel a bit of pride for his dorm watching it.

But immediately after, when Snow White comes on screen, his face drops into a scowl and he rolls his eyes.

Right off the bat, he comments about how annoying Snow White is. 

“I just don’t understand why they gave her such a grating voice...” He grumbles, shaking his head. “It’s so irritating.” 

Vil would point out how Snow White's dress and makeup, along with the Beautiful Queen's, is a reflection of the fashion from the period when the movie was made. (And if you pointed it out to him first, he'd be VERY pleased and impressed with you~)

"Oh, so THAT'S why they gave the Beautiful Queen pencil thin eyebrows?" You teased and Vil shoots you an unamused look.

"Of course. She's a product of her time, a staple for beauty and fashion from that era."

The dwarves do amuse him when they come on screen. He'd never tell you, but Dopey is his favorite.

He voices his admiration during the Queen's transformation scene.

"The lengths that she was willing to go is truly admirable..." He watches as she dips the apple into the poison. "But even the greats are capable of making mistakes. She should have ensured that Snow White could never be revived from the sleeping death."

He doesn't have much to say towards the ending, but he does look a little put out by Snow White being revived and getting a happily ever after.

"Such is the fate of villains..." He sighs. "Destined to die in the shadows while the heroes get their happy endings."

"Or is this case, getting struck by lightning and falling off a cliff." You remarked, grinning at the deadpan expression he gives you in response.

His rating for the movie is 9/10. The only reason it's not 10/10 is because of Snow White and the ending.

Idia Shroud 

(I apologize in advance, Idia is one of the characters I'm still trying to get a handle on writing ;v;)

I feel like Idia and Ortho watched the Hercules movie as children and it was Ortho's favorite movie.

So watching it again with you was something nostalgic for him, even if he remarks on it being a kids movie. (You can argue that some of the anime he watches is also for kids, but that will upset him and he'll go sulk under his covers and you'll never finish the movie.)

"Uwehehehe...what a clumsy idiot." He's got that sharp smile on his face as he watches Hercules swing the column around and basically destroy his entire village.

Honestly, he's not really interested in Hercules' tale and he's not really a fan of musicals. The only parts that interest him are when Hades comes on screen.

The only commentary that he gives is to make fun of Hercules.

"It's not possible for people to get THAT muscular in such a little amount of time..." He mutters as he watches the training montage with a bored expression. "It's not scientifically possible." You shrug in response.

"He's part god, so maybe that's part of it?" Idia just snickers with a sharp smile.

"He looks like a car test dummy in a toga."

Idia admires how confident Hades is and how fast he can negotiate things. I think he secretly wishes he had that confidence too.

How does he feel about Megara? Mmmm, I don't think he's interested in her character either. She's the main hero's girlfriend and a pawn to Hades, that's it.

If Ortho is watching with you guys, he's really the only one that enjoys it besides you. Idia goes right back to what he was doing before you suggested watching the movie as soon as the credits roll.

Malleus Draconia

Of course, Malleus knew that there was a movie made about the Thorn Witch. He and Lilia showed it to Silver and Sebek when they were children. (Lilia had thought it would be good for them to learn the history behind the tale!) So when you bring up watching it with him, of course he wants to. He loves spending time with you and the fact you want to learn a bit about his culture warms his heart.

He does like the aesthetic of this movie. He finds the music and the hand-painted backgrounds to be charming.

He can't say he understands how animation works, but it's nice to look at nonetheless.

Malleus likes the three good fairies. He finds their antics and the way Flora and Merryweather butt heads to be rather amusing.

"You know, I've always wondered what the third gift would have been if the Witch of Thorns hadn't come in when she did," He muses as Maleficent makes her entrance. You hum in thought.

"Some people theorize it would have been eternal happiness." You look over at him with a slight smile. "You know....never needing to feel blue?" That makes him chuckle.

"Eternal happines....Yes, I quite like that idea for a gift."

If you remark on Maleficent being petty for cursing an infant, Malleus is going to pout.

"Well, quite frankly, I understand how she feels. It's rather hurtful not being invited to events." You look over at him and raise an eyebrow.

"Fine! Then curse the people who didn't invite you. Don't curse the infant child who had nothing to do with whether or not she was invited." Malleus just hurumphs and crosses his arms.

"In a roundabout way, the king and queen DID suffer for their actions. Having their baby cursed to die." A slight smirk breaks across his face. "I'm sure they'll think twice next time."

He doesn't say it, but he quite likes Aurora as a character and he loves the sound of her singing. He finds it very enchanting and relaxing to listen to.

Flora and Merryweather fighting over the dress color reminds him a lot of Silver and Sebek. Fauna's baking strongly reminds him of Lilia's cooking.

During the part where Aurora is being hypnotized, you suddenly gasping and clamping your hand on his arm startles Malleus. "OH MY GOD. I JUST REALIZED THAT THE CREEPY NOISE IS ACTUALLY SAYING HER NAME."

You both pause and listen again as the eerie note that played in between the music stings creepily called "Auuuroooraaa~" in a beckoning manner. Malleus blinked in surprise.

"Oh my. That would explain her expression as she walks up the stairs." He mused, putting a finger to his chin. "How clever. I've watched this film plenty of times and I never noticed that."

The part where Maleficent casts the thorns around Stephen's castle and turns into a dragon are Malleus' favorite parts.

"None of the other members of the Great Seven can do what she can do." He says with a prideful smirk. "She is truly supreme in her ranking."

Watching Maleficent back Prince Phillip onto a cliff and trap him with no protection is VERY satisfying for Malleus. But once the fairies bless the Sword of Truth, he pouts again.

"If it weren't for them, he wouldn't have been able to defeat her." He says. "It wasn't a fair fight." You raise an eyebrow at him at that.

"She turned into a huge, fire-breathing dragon. You call THAT fair?" His little pout in response just makes you laugh.

Overall, Malleus enjoys watching the movie with you and he'll gladly watch it with you again whenever you want to.

[dudeandduchess]

Yakuza!Kyōjurō x F!S/O: Sugar and Spice (Mafia!AU, Modern AU, NSFW Series)[Chapter 5]

Summary: Kyōjurō and (Y/n) meet at a party, only to find out that their lives would change forever— since they had been arranged to be married.

Warnings: Making Out, Dry Humping, Extreme Fluff

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4| Chapter 6

***

(Y/n) wasn’t a stranger to fast food establishments at all; especially when she was far away from her family at university, and well away from having to keep up pretenses— on the off chance that an off-the-rails paparazzo would recognize her and hound her for an interview.

She liked to partake in the occasional burger from McDonald’s, and the odd fried chicken from KFC every once in a while. But it was the first time that she’d even been to a fast food restaurant while dressed to the nines.

Hell, she was even wearing statement jewelry that her mother had told Rin to make her wear. And that had her gripping her seatbelt even tighter than before; especially as Kyōjurō pulled up right in front of the busy McDonald’s without a care in the world.

As if he owned the road, which he may as well have— what with the wide berth that people and cars had given him.

(Y/n) couldn’t blame them at all; she would have dived for cover the moment that she had spotted the 4444 digits, as well as the little crown at the corner of Kyōjurō’s license plate. But that was before she had come to be engaged to a Yakuza member— the heir of the family, no less.

“Are you serious? We’re eating here?” She didn’t have any qualm with fast food at all— it was just that they were extremely overdressed. And it was already garnering the attention from a couple of pedestrians, which had her sinking into her seat even further.

But Kyōjurō seemed like he couldn’t give two fucks about what anyone else thought, as he unbuckled his seatbelt and didn’t even bat an eye as he got out of the car; rounding it, all so he could open her door for her.

Gentlemanly, and it wooed (Y/n) a little, but it did barely anything to ease the embarrassment that she got from the stares of all the passersby.

“Why, princess? Too casual for you?” Kyōjurō teased, watching with amusement as his fiancée huffed a little while undoing her seatbelt. And, as a little act of rebellion, she ignored his hand and stepped out of the sedan as gracefully as she can— impressing Kyōjurō even more, as she seamlessly rose up without even parting her legs to move.

“In this case, yes. And in case you haven’t noticed, Kyōjurō, everyone has been staring at us.”

“So? Let them stare; it’s the first time that they’d seen someone as beautiful as you.” The Rengoku answered smoothly, taking (Y/n) off guard and making her cheeks bloom a vibrant red from embarrassment.

And, with a soft chuckle, Kyōjurō quickly took his fiancée’s hand into his own— before tugging her towards the bustling McDonald’s for a quick breakfast.

To Kyōjurō’s surprise— and his utter delight— she managed to finish her pancake and sausage meal; before giving his remaining pancake longing looks across the table.

(Y/n) tried to avoid looking at the fluffy pancake, as it was rude to do so, but her eyes always gravitated towards it; her stomach speaking for her and making her mouth water for the sweet treat. After all, pancakes were one of her most favorite breakfast items— if only for the fact that her father had always taken her to get them before school, before he was the Prime Minister.

The faintest of smiles graced her lips at the fond memories that came flashing in her mind; a reaction that wasn’t lost on Kyōjurō at all, especially since it gave her such a soft and ethereal glow that had him completely transfixed.

His mouth would have fallen open, had he not caught himself in time and kept it closed. And, before he could help it, an equally subtle smile tugged up at the corners of his lips— all while he admired the woman whom sat adjacent from him; the woman who was going to be his wife.

“What’re you smiling about?” The question wasn’t harsh at all, it was merely inquisitive, which had Kyōjurō playfully tilting his head slightly and amping up the wattage on his smile.

However, instead of being teasing, he decided to be upfront with her— hoping to catch her off guard.

Which he did, with his answer.

“You. The way you’re the most beautiful person here without even trying...”

(Y/n)’s lips pursed at those words, but the smile that she tried to hide with that action still crept through the tiny cracks in her façade. It completely enamored the Rengoku even more, as opposed to turning him off from her false placidity.

“You’re too much of a charmer, Kyōjurō,” (Y/n) conceded in a somewhat playful tone, before idly taking her cup of orange juice and taking a sip of it— if only to hide her oncoming blush and flustered smile behind the action.

“Only for you, princess.” And honestly, he really meant it; he’d always been charming, but it was only with her that he truly meant everything he said.

***

A two hour drive later found (Y/n) staring in awe up at the tall trees that bordered a two-lane road up in the mountains. They had turned off from the main road five minutes ago, but she had yet to see where her fiancé was taking her.

If she were to be honest, she would say that she was getting slightly nervous. She couldn’t help the reaction though, as it made sense— all because of Kyōjurō’s job’s nature. She had come to like him to a degree, but she had yet to put her trust in him.

After all, she had to be careful, as she had gone into the arrangement with her eyes wide open. His family was cashing in a favor her father owed, and she could never forget that.

But that didn’t mean that she should hate him for it, as she’d come to realize during their breakfast. He wasn’t all that bad, and he was very easy on the eyes— which was an extremely huge plus.

“I hate to ask this so late, but where exactly are we going?” (Y/n) finally piped up, turning away from the seemingly neverending foliage and looking over at Kyōjurō— whom had his full attention on the road.

He didn’t even turn towards her when he answered, “Somewhere special, and somewhere... private.”

The way that the last word rolled off his tongue was packed with so much meaning, that she couldn’t help but feel herself get a little hot under the collar at his double entendre. Still, she pushed for complete placidity, and even opted to cross her legs at the ankles— if only to squeeze her thighs together.

“I’m sure you’re gonna like it there, sweetheart. Best of all, you won’t have to deal with your mother for a while,” Kyōjurō joked with a grin, still not looking at her, but turning to his left before veering the car left.

A sharp gasp escaped from (Y/n)’s lips at the reckless move, only to be truly left speechless when she got an eyeful of the view in front of her. From a break in the foliage, she saw that they were on a cliff face, with a traditional Japanese mansion down below— complete with an expansive garden— and partnered with such a breathtaking view of Saitama’s lush mountains serving as the backdrop.

Not even the sound of Kyōjurō pulling up the handbrake ruined the tranquility of the moment.

She had been to so many beautiful places in the world, but something about the place just seemed so... tranquil. Like it had touched not jusy her heart, but also her soul.

From his seat, Kyōjurō watched in fascination as his fiancée’s expression became even lovelier as the seconds ticked by. She took in the view so hungrily, that he wasn’t prepared for the sheer admiration in her eyes when she turned to finally look at him.

“Is this yours?” She asked softly, her voice barely above breaking a whisper.

And, with a subtle shake of his head, he gave in to his instincts and leaned in closer to bridge the gap between them— cupping her cheeks in his hands and bringing her face in so he could brush his lips against hers. “It’ll be yours too. Soon, Mrs. Rengoku.”

It was only meant to be a quick peck, but Kyōjurō couldn’t help himself and deepened it into a proper kiss; one that had (Y/n) melting right into his touch. She pliantly parted her lips for his tongue, moaning softly against his mouth when he moved to play with hers.

But things didn’t stop there for the couple, as (Y/n) released more of her control and allowed her lover to pull her over the console and right onto his lap. Thankfully, her dress was flared enough to have not ripped when she instinctively straddled him.

It was a tight fit, with her pressed flush against him— as the steering wheel was digging into her back— but she paid no mind to it as she traded kiss for kiss with her fiancé. All the while, the Rengoku’s hands anchored themselves to either side of her waist, kneading her sides before the right one moved down to cup her ass and squeeze it through her dress.

“Fuck, baby, I want nothing more than to fuck you right here,” Kyōjurō hissed, as he hungrily devoured his lover’s lips with open mouthed kisses. He had even taken to nipping at her lips every once in a while to ease the frustration he felt, especially with her pussy pressed flush against the steadily rising bulge between his thighs.

But he couldn’t break his own word— that his cock was a wifey privilege. Because not only would that be embarrassing and needy as hell for him, it would be going back on his word. And if there’s anything that Kyōjurō hated, it was going back on someone’s word— especially his own.

In response to that, (Y/n) began to grind her pussy up against Kyōjurō’s erection; wrapping her arms even tighter around his shoulders, while her fingers buried themselves in his hair. “Do it. Fuck me right here.”

Part of her was surprised at her shameless words, but she couldn’t very well take them back anymore so she decided to remedy her gaffe by being the one to dive in for another open mouthed kiss— if only to distract her lover from what she had just admitted to wanting, in a roundabout way.

Kyōjurō’s cock was throbbing with need at that statement, but he still forced himself to pull away before things could press on to the point where even he would lose sight of his own control. It was the hardest thing he’d had to do in a while, and it was obvious by (Y/n)’s expression that she did not appreciate being rejected once more— which he tried to smooth over with one last kiss to her luscious lips.

“Wifey priveleges, princess. Not until you’re officially mine.”