#i just love how this series deals with so many themes

[thebucketpail]

Something about the way Raquelle Ervin desperately wanted to fly, so she invented Icon and became Rocket. But she still couldn't fly, not truly. That is until she stepped back from her dream to take care of herself while letting someone else give it a go.

Something about the way all the heros in Dakota live in the same neighborhood, except for the icon himself.

Something about the way Arnus returned to his home planet but the Icon never left. Because there were more people willing to step up and inspire hope in the same way Raquelle dreamed it in the first place.

Something about the way the series shows community. The people that live together and work together. The inter connectedness of the heros on Paris Island. And the way it shows that sometimes community is all you can fall back on.

Something about the way Agustus Freeman is both alien to the Earth as a whole, and to the people he's protecting. How his status and removment from society has affected his views on people and their potential vs the opportunity to fulfill it.

I don't know exactly what the point here is. I just think there's something there.

[hehosts-moved]

also a favorite “play” method or tactic that goro uses is becoming “your mirror image.” 

the mirror isn’t a necessity to show a “reflection” ... but it does add a creep factor he likes given people are already so distrustful of their own reflections. (we’ll talk reflections in another post with ren/yori shortly). it’s basically appearing to you as yourself, but in a way you would recognize.**

** this plot for like anything is always hard for me because technically we wouldn’t be able to really see our clone / doppelganger / etc as looking like us because we don’t know what we truly look like, if that makes sense. we always see reflections, we don’t see ourselves, so recognizing “us” as an entity outside of our reflected vision, which can already be skewed by a variety of factors (from lighting techniques to mirror types to emotional view of the self, etc). so...you know me, i have to make it somewhat reality oriented, so i think goro would appear to you in the way you would recognize yourself. taking your face for real would mean he’s taking you as you really are, not as you see yourself, which is how other people would also see you. the first is taking an emotional form whereas the second is more equivalent to taking the legitimate physical form of someone. i say “face” but he really does take the whole body, especially if he’s taking that identity for himself. there’s no limit to “who” goro will become, seek out, or engage with. **

he likes to bend or distort reality, so he typically uses this technique (this “trick”) mostly for fun, but sometimes to move a “plot” along. it’s a way to a) challenge someone, who better than themselves? and b) to have fun, it’s boring having ji-hun and deng (and others) do everything. so, while he doesn’t do everything himself, there are some things he still enjoys doing, and he likes to “get out in the field.” 

since he is not “taking” the actual face, just “using it,” it falls under his “parlor tricks.”

i also use this imagery for ren, but that’s in the comic with another character. it’s good imagery. 

a lot of it comes from when i first saw evil dead 2 when i was a kid. this part really stuck out with me, and i’ve used it before in other storytelling, but not as obvious. i also find it fitting to other characters i’ve ended up writing, such as yagami raito, because mirror imagery and mirror play are used a lot in death note to symbolize specific changes in yagami when becoming kira.

“i’m fine...i’m fine...”

“i don’t think so!”

[rhysazriel]

Smoke & Light: Part 1 [Plug!Az]

SUMMARY: Your ex-boyfriend gives you his dealers number, but you don’t expect for him to be so fine. And you certainly don’t expect him to be so goddamn flirty. (3.4k)

WARNINGS: descriptions and dealings of recreational drugs (weed), little bit of swearing, slight sexual themes and lots of shameless flirting. THIS IS A MODERN AU!!

A/N: the first part is here and I’m so excited!! Im still unsure how many parts this is going to be, but there’s a lot I want to happen in this series so probably (I’m guessing!!) six or seven, but we’ll see!! Anyway, I hope you enjoy <3

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Your patience was wearing thin. Very fucking thin. Those three grey dots mocked you as they bubbled at the bottom of the screen—disappearing and reappearing again—until they were replaced with another less than satisfying message.

Brandon: are you taking the piss? Why didn’t you just ask when you were here earlier?

You scanned the message over, swallowing back the groan at the idea of another potential argument. You needed to nip his attitude in the bud, you weren’t entertaining his bullshit anymore. Gnawing at the inside of your cheek, your fingers quickly typed a response.

You: I didn’t realise I was out until I got home. Can you get any or not? Just lmk

The dots appeared again after a few moments of silence, and you prepared yourself for the snarky remark he was most likely to give you, and took a deep breath to compose yourself in advance.

Brandon: no. I can’t get you any. Sort it out yourself for once.

There was no way in Hell you were going to let your frustrations show. Despite the pure anger and annoyance that began to bubble even more within you.

Brandon could be a lot of things. A liar. A cheat. And a fucking asshole. In all honestly, the only thing he was truly good for was the occasional above par fuck and the fact that his dealer had the best weed you’d ever smoked.

But when they were the only two good things he had going for him, it was hard to justify the disgusting behaviour he showed throughout almost your entire relationship. You broke up every few weeks as it was, but if you’d known about the cheating before, you would’ve left for good sooner.

Instead, you found out a year and half into the relationship, coming to the deafening conclusion that he had, in fact, never been faithful for a single moment of his adult life.

Fuck him. And fuck his shit sex. The weed, you could get yourself.

You: lmao ok. What’s his number?

A heartbeat after he read the text, he was calling you. And the moment you answered the call, he was his usual, un-charming self.

“What the fuck do you mean what’s his number?”

“Hello to you, too.” You murmured, tucking yourself under the blanket on your couch.

His clipped tone didn’t startle you, didn’t worry you about any form of consequences. He wasn’t scary, even when he tried to be. He was just a douche.

“What do you mean what’s his number?” He repeated himself, that agitation growing thicker and thicker with every word he spoke.

“How else am I supposed to get any?”

“Find your own dealer.”

He was being bitter now, pathetically so. You picked at the aged edges of your book, a novel you’d read five times over but one you couldn’t get enough of. Your love for it could be seen by the fading print of the front cover and the severely broken spine—despite how careful you tried to be with your readings.

“Brandon, I’m not going to find a random dealer. Your Azriel guy has good stuff and I know it’s safe. Besides, me going to the same person as you is not going to affect you in any way.”

He was silent for a moment, mulling over your words. Despite his dreadful personality and lack of love and care and compassion, he knew how little you knew about marijuana. He was the one that taught you to roll, after all.

You’d barely smoked before you met him, and on the rare occasions you did get high, it was usually in the form of gummy edibles your friends had. And you weren’t addicted or reliant on it in any way. You just enjoyed a smoke every now and then if you’d had a long day.

Alcohol had never been your favourite, and you much preferred to feel the chilled buzz from a joint than cradle a hangover for two days after a soirée.

“Fine. I’ll text you his number. Say Marco gave it to you, it’s a code he made up—had cops on him a while ago. He can be a bit of an ass, don’t let him shit talk you. Ask for a 3.5, he usually charges 40 for it. It’ll last you a couple weeks unless you’re planning on smoking heavy.”

It was easy to be pulled back in when he was like that. When he did the bare minimum of offering advice on things he knew you weren’t too sure on. But you were better than that now, smarter. You weren’t going to fall back into your old ways again.

Not with him. Not with anyone.

“I’m not. Thank you.”

The line went dead as soon as the words left your mouth and a few moments later, he texted you Azriel’s number. You would’ve appreciated a reminder of what you were supposed to ask for but at least you got his number. Small wins. You weren’t his responsibility anymore.

It took you a few minutes to figure out what to say, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you typed and erased, typed and erased. Until you settled on ‘Is this Azriel?’ and finally sent the message.

Ten minutes passed and you didn’t get a response. Your nose was tucked back into your romance novel as you chewed on the drawstring of your hoodie. In all honesty, you could’ve quite easily slipped into a peaceful slumber under the warm golden glow of your lamps.

That was another thing Brandon couldn’t respect. Your No Main Light rule. The vibes were always immaculate with gentle warmth from lamps. The main light was not allowed on under any circumstances. You much preferred the cosy feeling of golden hues that accentuated the deep green leaves of your plants and vines that scattered the walls and crevices of your home.

Your phone chimed from your lap, a small surge of anxiety pulsing in your chest. You unlocked the screen and read over the message.

Azriel: depends who’s asking.

Ah, Brandon did warn you. You considered fucking the whole idea off. Maybe cracking open a bottle of wine and snuggling on the couch with a book or tv show would be better than having to meet this asshole, but the bottle of White Zinfandel wouldn’t give you the mellow buzz you wanted.

Not unless you had at least four glasses which was usually paired with a hangover the next day. Something you did not want to entertain. So, you bit the bullet and typed your reply.

You: y/n, got your number from Marco. You about?

The more you let your mind wander, the more you realised how little you knew. You had no clue how this sort of thing worked. Would he come to you? Your home? Would you meet at a location of his choice? Or would he just stash the weed somewhere for you to collect and you don't cross paths at all?

But the burning fire of the what-if anxiety was quickly trampled and extinguished when another text came through and instead of him deciding for you, you were given choices.

Azriel: sure, I can meet you at old tower in 20 if that’s good for you? If not I can drop to your location.

He didn’t seem as much of an ass now. No, quite the opposite. But you supposed that offer was something he probably gave to all new, female clients. If he truly was an ass or not, you couldn’t fault him for the consideration.

Old Tower was the old old watermill tucked slightly away in the centre of the city. It had been derelict for years, but due to its location—so close to all the necessities and right opposite the police station—no one ever tried to break in or set it alight like the many other derelict listed buildings had been in the past.

Even now, at almost midnight, that part of the city would still be bustling with city-natives and tourists alike. And you appreciated the safe and public meeting spot he suggested.

You: old tower in 20 is fine.

As quickly as you sent the message, you received another reply. A text describing his blue Mustang and his licence plate. You shook the nerves off as soon as they came. Azriel was respectful and well known. He dealt to make his money and that was that.

But the facts didn’t stop you from sharing your location with Brandon just in case, nor did it stop you from double checking you still had your little pepper spray clipped to your keychain.

The walk to the Old Tower wasn’t a bad one. There were many ways you could access it, most of them leading you through the city, but here were a few that hid you behind back roads and alleyways—those were routes you never took. Not on your own and certainly not in the middle of the night.

The air was still a bit sticky from the summer heat, and while the denim shorts you wore kept your body cool, you were grateful you kept on your hoodie—just that extra layer that protected your arms and shoulders from the chill of the breeze that your legs never seemed to experience.

It didn’t take long for you to reach the Old Tower, and it took even less time to spot the electric blue 2022 Ford Mustang. Small tufts of white smoke emitted from the exhaust as it sat in its standstill, headlights facing the opposite direction of what you came in, but you could still hear the engine humming from your short distance away.

You double checked the licence plate to the number Azriel texted you, and slowly made your way closer. While you didn’t know much about drop offs, deals, and weed in general, you did know the unspoken rules of picking up. And if you were picking up from someone in a vehicle, most people got inside for a few minutes before leaving.

Azriel must’ve noticed you from the rear view mirror because just as you approached the back of the car, the passenger door opened wide, inviting you in. You sucked in a breath but accepted the invitation, keeping your eyes forward as you settled into the warmth of the leather seat and closed the door shut.

You finally let your body shift and your eyes met his. And you were fucking done for.

You’d never seen a man so strikingly fucking beautiful before. He was tall, lean and muscular and oozed pure sex and charisma. Tan, golden skin and dark, luscious hair that swept loosely down his forehead and curled gently around the tops of his ears.

His face was chiselled not too sharply, a subtle gentleness to the stark contrast of the cold, brooding aura he carried. And those eyes. Christ, those fucking eyes. Hazel iris’ that dripped with a golden hue of honey.

You swallowed down the dry lump in your throat and willed your lips to part so you could finally speak. “Thank you for meeting me so late.”

And Azriel was absolutely hooked.

When you’d texted barely thirty minutes ago, he did not expect to be meeting with someone so fucking gorgeous. Your soft hair was twisted in a loose braid that hung over your shoulder, wayward strands having fallen from the updo and framing your face mesmerizingly.

Your eyes were the most captivating thing he’d ever seen; rich in colour and wide with slight anxiety, despite the sleepiness he could slightly notice beneath them. Your voice sounded like a fever dream. It wasn’t sickly sweet like most women he knew or dealt to. Perhaps it was just the sleep, but there was a rasp—a very slight ruggedness—in your tone and Azriel was certain he’d never heard something quite so sensual in his life.

He cleared his throat, that all too cheeky grin teetering on the corners of his mouth. “I was already out,” he shrugged, nonchalantly. “How much are you after?”

His voice was a perfect blend of sweet and rough. A deep depth to his tone that skipped hand-in-hand with a sweeter note. God, he was unreal, and the sound of him had you forgetting entirely what exactly Brandon told you to ask for.

You pulled your lips between your teeth and offered a very sheepish—but mostly embarrassed—smile. “Um… I’m sorry,” you found yourself apologising for the second time tonight. “My ex used to do this part, so I have no idea how this works.”

You couldn’t help the flush that rose to your cheeks at your own admission, couldn’t handle being the subject of his firm gaze, and you absolutely could not fucking handle the soft rumble of rich laughter that chuckled through him.

“Do you smoke a lot?” Azriel finally asked, a slightly amused smile on those full lips of his. His pink tongue swiped out to wet them and your heart thundered against your ribcage at the sight.

“Not really,” you cleared your throat. “Just every now and then. Semi-regularly, I guess.” There was no such thing as semi-regularly when it came to drugs and alcohol. To someone’s own self, sure. But not the general mass that consumed whatever it was they did.

Some considered three joints a day ‘semi-regular’, while others considered it as a joint every few days. Azriel had a feeling you were the latter, but he didn’t say anything about his thoughts or what you’d said.

Instead, he hummed and chewed at the inside of his cheek in thought. He wasn’t laughing at you or your lack of knowledge or understanding. Usually, he’d have kicked a new client out of his car by now and told them to figure it out on their own—he was a dealer, not a fucking private tutor—but with you, he didn’t seem to mind explaining or breaking things down so it was easier to understand.

Neither of you quite understood why he was happy to explain, but you didn’t complain. You’d much prefer this than the alternative version of him that you’d been warned about.

“A 3.5 would probably be best for you, then.” He decided.

Yes, a 3.5… that sounded very familiar. You nodded, slowly, considering your next words carefully. You had already disclosed the most embarrassing part of not having a fucking clue how this worked, one more probably wouldn’t hurt, would it?

“This is going to sound absolutely ridiculous,” you chuckled nervously, scratching at the nape of your neck. “But can you break that down in joint terms?”

Azriel laughed again, softer this time, through a breath. It was odd, really. He wasn’t laughing to be cruel or to embarrass you further. It seemed to you that perhaps he found it endearing—your innocence on the matter—and maybe, just maybe, you reminded him of himself when he too at one point, had no idea either.

“It depends on how strong you have them. Do you smoke blunts or just joints?”

Your eyes widened animatedly. “God, no. Just joints. I think a blunt might wipe me out.”

A glint of warmth and light fluttered through his eyes for a split second. “So, a 3.5 would get you like seven joints.”

“Yeah, that would last me like a week, two weeks.” You nodded. “I’ll have a 3.5 then, thank you.”

Azriel hummed in agreement, and it was only when he reached for the centre console and flipped open a compartment that you saw his hands. His golden skin was marred beyond belief, etched in burns and an array of pigmented colours. Your stomach lurched at the sight. Not from fear or pity or disgust, no. Your stomach twisted in agony, your brain couldn’t comprehend a reason for scars like that.

You looked away as quickly as you clocked them, not wanting to stare and not wanting him to notice. You supposed he was used to lingering gazes, but you would not be a name added to that list of people.

Azriel did nothing but make you feel comfortable in the brief few minutes of meeting one another. He was kind enough to not laugh in your face and kick you out of his car after your admittance. You were not about to make him feel uncomfortable either.

He pulled out a small plastic baggie stuffed to the brim with forest green nuggets and handed it to you between two scarred, pinched fingers. You took it gratefully, a full and genuine smile on your lips now as you thanked him, reaching into the back pocket of your denim shorts for the cash.

“Did you want me to roll them for you, too?” Azriel’s teasing voice dripped with sarcasm and your eyes snapped to him with a stern look. “‘Cause that’ll cost you extra.”

“I know how to roll, thank you.” You bit back, and while your voice and tone held all the conviction, the amused glint in your eye and the corners of your mouth told him he hadn’t offended you in the slightest.

“It’s twenty-five.” Azriel chuckled from beside you.

Your brows furrowed as you pulled out two twenty’s, meeting his gaze again. “Isn’t it usually like forty?”

The air now smelt of that tangy, vile scent, something that you don’t think you’d ever get used to. Or enjoy. He shrugged, flipping down the lid of the compartment between you. “You’re a new client.”

You raised a brow now, a taunting smirk creeping at the corner of your mouth. “Do you always undercharge new clients, then?”

Azriel liked you. Very much. You didn’t shy away or hide your personality from him, even after only knowing one another for barely an hour in total. He had a feeling he was barely scraping the surface.

He matched your stare, only he wasn't teasing. “Only the pretty ones.”

There was no hiding the heat that crawled up your neck and sat heavy on your cheeks. It had been a long while since you received a genuine compliment. Let alone one so forward and from someone so unexpected. You averted your gaze from him, looking at the two twenty’s in your hand. Raising them, you pursed your lips.

“I only have two twenty’s on me. So you may as well take the full forty.”

Azriel didn’t listen. Instead, he pinched one note from your hand, his skin brushing yours but you didn’t falter, didn’t shy away. He was warm, and despite the scars and marred skin, his skin was softer than you expected.

You huffed, not ungrateful for the discount but this was his livelihood and taking away from that felt wrong to you.

“Let me know when you’re out.”

You smiled appreciatively and nodded, stuffing the bag and cash into your hoodie pocket and reaching for the door handle. “I will. Nice to meet you, Azriel.”

He watched you climbed out of the car, offering another warm smile as the cooler evening air kissed at his skin. He wanted to ask how you were getting home, if you’d be walking alone or if you needed a ride. But Azriel couldn’t cross those lines, especially not with someone he only just met.

So he bit his tongue and prayed to the Mother above to get you home safely. “You too, Y/N.”

He started up the engine again as soon as the door closed, but he didn’t drive away. He watched you through the rear view mirror until you were out of sight and when he finally looked down, he found his jeans tight around his crotch and a painful erection.

“Fuck.”

Add yourself to the tag list here :) | Series Masterlist

If you enjoyed it, please give it a like and reblog and let me know what you thought!! Thank you for reading <3

Smoke & Light ONLY Tags

@smalljasper289 / @sttvrdustt

Azriel Tags

@serxndipity-ipity-blog / @erencvlt / @azswife / @lili-of-the-wildfire / @dreaming-unafraid / @dr4g0ngirl / @coconut-dreamz

[imaginespazzi]

Part 1: Simple Things

Masterlist - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11

Cause your presence still lingers here (it won't leave me alone)

(In which a procrastinating writer starts another series to continuously procrastinate on)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining

Words: 5.8K (lowkey shocked I managed that)

TW: Swearing (I think that's it?)

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Look at me not being a liar! I'mma try to be good with updates but we all know me. This first chapter is mainly buildup and it's not my favorite but it's important to get the plot rolling. I know very little about California and it's going to become more and more apparent throughout this series so everyone who knows Cali, just pretend thanks! Did I edit? Yes. Are there probably still mistakes? Also yes. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked, and what you wanna see next!

February 2033

“Anywhere but GSV,” Paige says adamantly, staring at the white wall in front of her, instead of her exasperated agent. 

Talia lets out a deep sigh, perfectly manicured sharp red nails tapping incessantly against her desk. For the most part, Paige is a dream client and when Talia says jump, she says how high. It’s easy to trust Talia’s vision when she hasn’t let her down once since Paige’s management company has assigned her to their basketball sensation. But most of those decisions had been about endorsement opportunities, opportunities that wouldn’t have other ramifications on the rest of Paige’s life, opportunities that didn’t come with personal consequences. 

“Paige-”

“How about the Sparks?” 

“They’re not offering nearly as much.”

“I’m okay with taking a pay-.”

“You do not pay me as much as you do for me to let you finish such a stupid sentence.”

“Fine,” Paige spins around in her swivel chair, “you’re telling me nobody else is offering me anything as big as GSV.”

“Well I mean Indiana…” Talia trails off, barely able to hide an impish grin at Paige’s pronounced eyeroll, “and of course you could always just stay in Dallas.”

Paige winces at the mention of the current team. With one championship and two MVP campaigns under her belt, it would be incorrect to say her time with the Wings hadn’t been fruitful but she’d never felt quite at home here. And that had been before the personnel changes had hit Dallas and suddenly, the team coming off a near perfect season with a trophy in their hand, was struggling to keep themselves in playoff contention. Paige had stuck it out two more seasons after, a testament to her loyal nature and desire to start and finish her career at the same place like many legends had done but ultimately enough had been enough and she’s come to terms with the fact that she’s not meant to be a part of the Wings forever. 

“Can’t you try talking to the Sparks again?” she says, hands massaging her temple as she resorts to begging, “it’s fucking L.A. they’ve got to have some money lying around somewhere.”

“Even if they did, you and I both know the Sparks aren’t a good fit basketball wise either. GSV has everything you’re looking for. They need a PG and you need a championship contender who’s offering you a deal like they are. You can’t throw all of that away just because-”, Talia bites her lip, catching herself before she can vocalise out loud the real reason they’re having such a complicated conversation about what should be a simple decision. 

Paige swallows uncomfortably, skin prickling with that all too familiar fire that spreads through her veins every time her past brushes a little too close to her present. It would be impossible to keep them from ever colliding, but for almost a decade now, Paige has managed to keep them separate beyond absolute necessity. She’s done the cordial handshakes when the Wings played the Valkyries and given due diligent praise when the media had asked about the competition, but that was it. More than that would have been like willingly walking into a fire with kerosene all over her body. And Paige can’t do that, not when the burn marks from years and years ago, still haven’t healed. 

“Team chemistry is important,” Paige says finally, “I might be an on-court fit at GSV but that won’t matter if it’s a disaster off the court.”

Talia sighs and Paige can tell she’s fighting the urge to whack her head against her desk, “it’s been years Paige. You've lived a whole life without each other. The two of you are adults. You’re professionals and you’re two of the best goddamn players in the league. You have the same goal; you want to win. You don’t think you can put that behind you to get you both what you want?”

You've lived a whole life without each other

It’s like a well-aimed arrow that barely breaks skin but shatters something underneath, something buried deep within, something she should have gotten rid of years ago but hasn’t been able to let go of yet. Something that feels a lot like a forever she’d never gotten to live out and an always that had flown out of her reach. And Paige knows nobody lives the life they’d expected to live at fifteen or even eighteen but the truth is that most of her dreams had come true. The only thing missing was the person she’d expected to be there by her side when they did. 

“Okay listen,” Talia begins again, “here’s what’s gonna happen.”

“Bossy,” Paige smirks, bracing herself, knowing she’s not about to like the next words out of Talia’s mouth. 

“You’re going to go to San Francisco,” the older woman raises a silencing hand the minute Paige tries to protest, “you’re going to meet the front office, you’re going to meet the GM and you’re going to tour their facilities. And if after talking with them and seeing all they have to offer, if it’s still not enough to counter having to play with her, then we can revisit this conversation.”

“Can I say no?” Paige tilts her head with a sigh. 

Talia smirks and it’s enough for Paige to let her head finally hit the table, “your flight leaves in two days.”

***

Azzi wakes up to a light weight sprawled over her back and tiny fingers rubbing circles against her temple. She can’t help but smile, keeping her eyes closed and listening to the sound of her daughter’s quiet breathing as the little girl continues her ministrations. It’s a new skill she’s been taught, to wake her mom up like this instead of screaming. So far, Azzi think’s it’s been a successful transition. 

“Mama,” Stephie whispers in Azzi’s ear, “are you awake yet cause I really really want waffles.”

Azzi laughs, finally flipping herself over and Stephie squeals as she goes from on top of her mother, to landing on the bed, “I thought you said you wanted pancakes last night?”

“I did,” a thoughtful look crosses the five-year-old's eyes, “I think I changed my mind.”

“You think?” Azzi suppresses a smile. It’s uncanny really how she’d given birth to her perfect mini-me. The moment the nurses had placed the tiny little creature into her waiting hands, she’d noticed immediately how much it felt like looking through a door into her childhood. And with every passing day, it seems Stephie morphs more and more into Azzi. From the way her face betrays her every emotion to the way she can’t make a decision to save her life, it’s all Azzi and really it makes sense, because Stephie is all Azzi’s. 

“Yes,” Stephie nods matter-of-factly as she sits up onto her knee and pulls at Azzi’s blanket, “so can you get up and make me waffles now?”

“Oh of course I can, your highness,” Azzi says dramatically, rising off the bed and letting Stephie climb onto her back, “would you like chocolate sauce or maple syrup with that your majesty?”

Stephie groans, burying her face in Azzi’s neck as if her mother has asked her to make the most difficult decision in the world. They settle into their morning routine, Stephie brushing her teeth as Azzi goes through her meticulous skin care regiment, occasionally dabbing little bits of this and that on her daughter’s skin, eliciting soft giggles from the little girl. It’s her favourite sound in the entire world. Azzi’s life isn’t perfect and there’s a million what if’s, one bigger than all of the others, that plague her mind sometimes but then she looks at Stephie, and she knows she wouldn’t change a single decision she’d made. Because they’ve all led to this moment, 9 am on a Friday, making waffle batter as her five-year old sits on the counter-top. It’s not everything but it’s enough. 

The frantic sound of a door being haphazardly slammed open has both Stephie and Azzi startled, until Colleen comes bursting through it like a tornado. 

“Oh thank god you’re awake,” Azzi’s best friend and manager says, out of breath, as she throws her car keys on the kitchen table.

“Hi Aunty Leen,” Stephie grins, waffle batter all over her mouth as she continues to dip and lick. 

“Hey kiddo,” Colleen ruffles Stephie’s hair before sitting down and staring pointedly up at Azzi, “you might wanna sit down for this. I have news.”

“Sorry to break it to you Collen but your new h-o-o-k-u-p-s are not sit-down-newsworthy,” Azzi smirks as Colleen scrunches up her nose trying to keep up with the spelling. 

“Oh trust me Az, I wish this was about my h-o-o- whatever,” Colleen takes a deep breath, “GSV is meeting with a potential point guard this week.”

“I would hope so. We really need a PG if we’re gonna redeem ourselves next season.”

“Right, well- you see- the thing is-”

“Today if you can please Colleen,” but there’s this knot forming in the pit of her stomach. Her sixth sense that’s been dormant for years is prickling and if she’s honest with herself, Azzi knows the next words that are about to come out of Colleen’s mouth before her best friend has even said them. 

“GSV wants to sign Paige,” Colleen says slowly. 

For a moment there’s silence and it’s ridiculous how all it takes is her name for Azzi’s mind to start flipping through pages and pages of a photo album she’s buried deep in the treasure chest of her mind. And for a second, she allows herself to get lost in a flood of everything we could have been until the sting of her hand slipping against the waffle iron jolts her back to reality. 

“Fuck,” she curses, immedaitely blowing at her fingers. It does nothing. She should know by now that when things burn, the flames might die out, but even the ashes remain on fire. 

“Bad word Mama,” Stephie chides immediately, unaware that her mother’s world has just been thrown off balance, “you owe me a kiss.”

She juts her cheek out and Azzi complies, trying to ignore the way her heart is desperately trying to beat out of her chest. It only calms down a little when Stephie presses a kiss of her own against Azzi’s cheek. 

“Sorry sweetheart, mama’s bad, Here can you mix this batter for me,” Azzi whispers to the younger girl, distracting her child with something to do, before rounding on her best friend, “she can’t come here.”

Colleen sighs, getting comfortable in her chair, “unfortunately I don’t think you have much choice.”

“The h-” Azzi cuts herself off, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, “the haystack I don’t. This is my team and I don’t want her on it and I’m gonna walk into Ohemaa’s office and tell her exactly that.”

“Right and what exactly are you going to tell her when she asks you why you don’t want the best point guard in the league on your team Azzi? Your team, who mind you, lost in the finals last year because you didn’t have a point guard.”

Azzi flinches, gritting her teeth, both at the reminder of the loss that had happened not long enough ago and the fact that she couldn’t very well go into her boss’s office and blurt out the truth about a tragic relationship that had lived and died in secret. 

“It's a bad idea, the two of us- we’ll kill each other Colleen,” she struggles to string the words together, swallowing away the we already have that tastes like bile on the tip of her tongue. 

“Well you’re gonna have to learn not to,” Colleen says decisively, slipping from being Azzi’s best friend to her manager, “because you and I both know that if you want GSV to win another championship, you’re going to need her.”

“Are you my manager or GSV’s,” Azzi grunts, rubbing a tired hand against her forehead. 

Colleen smiles, “it’s the same thing isn’t it? What’s good for GSV is good for you. And we all know the two of you thrive on the court together.”

“We did. Past tense,” the admission falls like lava from Azzi’s lips, singeing the edges of her mouth as everything that she’d let simmer underneath threatens to bubble over, “there’s no guarantee we still will. Besides, it's all a moot point anyways because she would never agree.”

“Wouldn’t she?” Colleen cocks an eyebrow and Azzi groans at the rhetorical question, waiting for the inevitable other shoe to drop, “because last I checked, she’s flying into San Francisco tomorrow.”

***

Paige has a problem. A really big fuck i really want to be a golden state valkyrie type of problem. She’d fought it every step of the way since she’d landed in San Francisco. Something about the city felt like it was bursting with basketball. The drive from the airport into Oakland had been bursting with murals of the Warriors and the Valkyries and for a split second, Paige can see her own face up on the billboards in a #5 Valkyries jersey. She just doesn’t know if it she can imagine herself next to the woman in #35 again, the woman whose smile in the posters is exactly as she remembers it to have been like when it was pressed into Paige’s skin every night almost a decade ago. 

On top of that, Omehaa Nyanin had seemed to know exactly what made Paige Bueckers, the basketball player, tick. Every argument Paige had about why she shouldn’t be Valkyrie, the woman had a counter ready, as if she’d already anticipated exactly what the blonde would say. The Valkyrie coach had been even more prepared with videos of their offensive and defensive sets and how they fit in tandem with Paige’s own skill set, all ready to show off the minute she had walked through the door. It should be the easiest decision in the world to let herself just belong to this world that is screaming her name but there’s a rope around her waist trying to tug her back to safety, trying to tug her away from dousing her still-open wounds in salt. 

Sighing, Paige lets herself into what she’s been told is called the “chill area”. Coach had offered to give her a tour of the facilities herself but Paige had declined, asking instead for her former UConn teammate and currently Valkyrie centre Jana El Alfy to do the honours, desperate for a familiar face who knew her history to bounce her thoughts off. It clearly wasn’t what the woman had wanted, but considering she was trying to convince Paige to choose them, whatever the blonde wanted, she was going to get. Massaging her temples at this irritating predicament she’s unwillingly found herself in, Paige’s head rolls back against the back of the chair, eyes closing involuntarily. 

“You’re not supposed to sleep in here,” a tiny voice echoes and Paige almost jumps out her skin in shock. 

“Fucking hell,” she curses as her eyes fall upon a little girl who seems to have materialized out of nowhere, “shit kid, you scared me.”

The child scrunches her nose and Paige feels her heart beat start to quicken as recognition settles in. She knows this little girl, has seen her on the sidelines at countless games and just like every other time, all she can think of is just how much this child resembles the future Paige had once believed would be hers. 

“You owe me three kisses,” the girl says matter-of-factly, her tone so similar to her mothers. It shouldn’t surprise Paige, not when the kid has those same dark curls, those same doey brown eyes, that same nose scrunch.

“I owe you three kisses?” Paige repeats. 

The girl rolls her eyes letting out a sigh far too grave for someone of her age, “yes. Mama says whenever someone says a bad word around me, they have to give me a kiss. You said three bad words, so you owe me three kisses.”

“And what does Mama say about asking strangers for kisses?”

“Stranger danger duh silly,” the child puts her hands on her hips, tilting her head as she looks at Paige with a far too familiar expression, “but you’re not a stranger.”

Paige purses her lips, “I’m not?”

“You’re Paige Bueckers. I’ve seen you at Mama’s games and Nanna and Pops have pictures of you in their house,” she stops, staring accusingly, “you don’t know who I am? Did you forget me?” 

And Paige doesn’t know what catches her off guard more. The casual mention of a house that used to feel like a home, of people that used to feel like family or the fact that, that puppy dog stare still has the exact same effect on her that it did years ago, even if the owner of said eyes is different.

“Of course I didn’t forget you. You’re Stephanie,” Paige says softly, trying to muster a smile as she adds the last name, “Stephanie Fudd.”

“Stephanie Katarina Fudd,” comes the immediate correction, “but everybody calls me Stephie,” tiny hands wrap around Paige’s neck as Stephie climbs on to her lap, tapping a finger on her left cheek as she smiles up at Paige, “so now can I have my kisses?”

Slowly, Paige presses three featherlight kisses against the little girl’s cheek and when Stephie squeals in delight, she wishes she could record it. Someone somewhere is playing a practical joke on her, Paige is sure of it. Because all of a sudden, all the little things she’s been collecting as to reasons why she might just like the Bay Area are starting to feel insignificant in front of this one, in front of Stephie and her innocent smile and the way her free hand is curled around Paige’s neck as if she’ll hold on forever. And the world is definitely playing a cruel prank on her because Stephie can’t be the reason Paige wants to stay, not when her mother’s the reason Paige needs to go.

“Your Mama just lets you run around the building like this?” Paige asks, trying to focus on Stephie instead of the turmoil in her brain. 

Stephie smiles sheepishly, “well I was ‘posed to stay with Aunty Leen while Mama talks to Miss O but then Aunty Leen got a call and I was bored so I came here.”

It doesn’t take Paige too long to decipher that Miss O must be Omehaa, but she’s stuck on who the hell Aunty Leen could be. She’s distinctly aware that her skin has no right to prickle, her hands have no right to sweat, her stomach has no right to knot, she has no right to feel anything when it comes to Stephie’s mother. But jealousy floods through her anyways. 

“Who is Aunty Leen?” Paige asks and then mentally slaps herself for it. 

“Aunty Leen is Aunty Leen,” Stephie explains unhelpfully, “so Miss Buecks-”

“Bueckers.”

Stephie shoots her an unimpressed look, “same things Miss Buecks. Are you here to join Mama’s team?”

“I-” Paige scratches her neck, only slightly taken aback by the direct question, “I don’t know.”

“You should,” Stephies says decisively, “Mama’s team is the best team in the world and Mama’s the best player in the whole wide world.”

Paige can’t help but smile at Stephie’s loyalty, “so why does her team need me then?”

Stephie looks contemplative for a moment before she uses her index finger to beckon Paige towards her, “can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course you can,” Paige says, leaning her ear down so Stephie can whisper into it.

“Don’t tell anyone but you’re my second favourite player.”

Paige swears her heart feels like it might burst. She’s been plenty of people’s favourite player and it’s always been nice to hear. But somehow, all of that seems to pale in comparison to being Stephie’s second favourite player. 

“Why’s that a secret?” she asks softly. 

“Cause you play for the wrong team silly. I can’t cheer for not Mama’s team,” Stephie huffs and then her eyes twinkle, “that’s why you should play for Mama’s team and then I can support you!”

“Can’t argue with that logic,” Paige concedes, battling against the part of her brain that’s conjuring up an image of Stephie on the sidelines, cheering for Paige. 

“What’s log-ic?” Stephie asks. 

“Just means you’re a really smart kid,” Paige says, tapping the little girl’s nose. Her head is ringing with warning bells because this floaty feeling of belonging that’s encompassed in this little bubble she’s found herself in with Stephie is not one she’s allowed to feel, not now, not ever. 

“STEPHIE,” a shrill voice echoes outside and Stephie immediately dives into Paige’s neck, hiding herself in the crook of it as a frazzled woman bursts through the door. Her eyes soften when they fall on Paige and the blonde can’t help the caught expression that filters on her face. She knows she’s done nothing wrong; Stephie had been the one to find her after all. But perhaps it’s because she’s scared Colleen will take one look at her and see that tiny rebellious part of her that wants to fight what’s coming next, wants to fight the woman who’s going to take Stephie away from her. Paige isn’t one to get attached easily. It had only ever happened once before when she was fifteen and she’d just known that the girl shooting three’s next to her on the court was meant to be in her life in one way or another. But things had been simple then. Nothing was simple now. 

“Stephie,” Colleen says slowly, “what have I told you about running away from me?”

Stephie peeks her head out from Paige’s chest, a coy smirk playing on her lips, “not to do it? But you were boring me Aunty Leen.”

Oh that’s Aunty Leen, Paige thinks and she absolutely should not let out a sigh of relief at that but she does anyway. 

“I was on the phone for two minutes, Steph.”

“Two minutes too long,” Stephie counters and Paige has to stifle a laugh. 

Colleen rolls her eyes before holding out a hand, “well your Mama’s nearly done so we have to get going kiddo.”

“Can Miss Buecks come with us?” Stephie asks innocently and both Colleen and Paige freeze. 

“I don’t think-”

“I’m not sure-”

They both begin before their eyes flicker to each other and they can’t help but smile. It’s funny how relationships work, how one snapped string can cause a whole web to dissolve, no matter how hard everyone involved had tried to make it work. 

“I’m waiting to meet someone sweetheart so I can’t come right now,” Paige explains, “but maybe next time?”

And she shouldn’t add that last part, not when Paige should be devising an escape plan to never be in Oakland again instead of giving Stephie false hope about a next time that’s far from guaranteed. But it’s worth it for the way Stephie grins, staring at Paige like she’s given her the world’s greatest gift. 

Before Paige can say anything, the little girl presses her lips against Paige’s cheek and she swears she stops breathing for a moment, “I hope you choose to play for Mama’s team Miss Buecks. I think you’d look pretty in purple.”

***

May 2024

“I’ve figured it out,” Paige says triumphantly as she unceremoniously flops onto Azzi’s bed.

“Well hi to you too babe,” Azzi grumbles as she scoots over to give the other girl space. It’s unnecessary because the minute she does, Paige only moves closer, wrapping an arm around Azzi’s torso. 

“Hi baby,” she whispers before pressing a kiss against her girlfriend’s lips and pulling away so quickly that it leaves Azzi chasing after her. 

Azzi huffs and Paige laughs as she gets herself comfortable, resting her chest on the darker skinned girl's stomach, “I’ve figured it out.”

“Figured what out?”

“Our future,” Paige says triumphantly and Azzi can’t help but smile at the our as she intertwines their fingers together. It’s been years in the making and there’s nothing Azzi’s more confident in than those two words. Not everyone finds forever this young, but she’s certain they have because really she can’t imagine a life where they don’t belong to each other, a life where every night isn’t spent exactly like this. 

“And what do you see for our future,” Azzi asks softly. 

“Well it’s simple really,” Paige hums, “I’m going to get drafted wherever next year but the year after,  you’re definitely getting drafted to Valkyries-”

“I don’t know about definitely-”

“Azzi it’s rude to interrupt,” Paige sends her a chastising look. 

“Right of course,” Azzi nods solemnly, “continue.”

“As I was saying. You’re definitely getting drafted to the Valks and then we just have to wait for my rookie contract to be up and boom! I’ll join you in the Bay Area and we’ll be together forever and ever and ever.”

Azzi giggles, brushing her hands through Paige’s hair, “that simple huh?”

“That simple,” Paige promises, catching hold of one of Azzi’s hands to press a kiss to her palm, “it’s us Az, we’ll always be simple. Besides, I think we’d both look pretty good in purple.”

***

May 2033

The Valkyrie facilities are state of the art as expected. Jana is the perfect tour guide, pointing out everything she knows will garner Paige’s attention. As they step foot onto the practice court, Paige feels the overwhelming sense of this could be home that’s been dancing along with her every step of the way today. All the resolve she’d carried with her from Dallas is slowly crashing down and she can practically hear Talia’s sing-song i told you so voice echoing in her head. 

“You’d be really good here P,” Jana says excitedly, doing a little spin.

“You’d be lucky to have me,” Paige teases, as she picks up a basketball and subconsciously starts dribbling. 

Jana laughs, before a serious expression takes over, “we would. We got really close to winning it all last year and I think you might be our missing piece.”

“I want to,” Paige confesses, “I just-” her eyes flicker to the most recent MVP poster hanging on the walls, Jana’s gaze following hers, “I don’t know if I should. It’s so complicated.”

“Only if you let it be,” Jana says as she swipes the ball out Paige’s hands, “don’t think of everything else P, just- just think of the basketball. Because you know basketball-wise, this is the right move,” she passes the ball to Paige with a smirk, tilting her head towards the basket, “why not take a shot at it P?”

Paige shakes her head, palming the ball in her hands, “can’t believe my son’s all grown up.”

“Children of divorce have no choice but to grow up,” Jana says gravely and Paige laughs despite herself. 

Taking a deep breath, Paige raises the ball, arching her arms perfect as she shoots it. It barely touches the rim, before falling through the basket with swish. Hitting the floor with a quiet thud, the ball rolls until it’s stopped by someone's foot. Behind her, Paige can hear Jana cheering for the shot but she barely registers it, her entire attention on the new figure who’s just entered the court. It’s a tale as old as time. Azzi Fudd enters the room and suddenly everything else in Paige’s peripheral fades away, until it’s just her and the girl who still manages to steal her breath away. 

“Nice shot,” Azzi says, as she takes a slow step towards Paige. The air is thick with tension as if a time capsule has been opened and their past is leaking onto the pages of their present, staining it with marks of the you and me that we used to be. She should say something, even if it’s just an acknowledgement of the compliment but her tongue feels dry and she’s scared that if she opens her mouth, all the things she shouldn’t say will flood out instead. 

“Hey Az,” Jana’s eyes flicker awkwardly between her former teammates, “I didn’t know you were coming in today.”

“Had to talk to Omehaa about a couple of things,” Azzi says airly, eyes still fixated on Paige, “Jana can we have a minute?”

“You won’t kill each other will you?” Jana asks nervously.

Azzi laughs and even Paige cracks a small smile, “no Jana, we won’t kill each other.”

“Just making sure because last time-” Jana clamps a hand to her mouth as both Paige and Azzi flinch, “because nothing- you guys- you guys talk. I’ll give you guys a minute.”

She scampers away cursing to herself about putting her foot in her mouth and it would be amusing, if not for the fact that Paige can still barely breathe. They haven’t been alone in a room since last time and the air around them hangs heavy with the casings of the grenades they’d hurled at each other. 

“I’ve never seen you with braids this early in the year. They used to be your summer braids,” Paige remarks slowly. It’s a mundane change to notice but it’s significant of the larger truth, significant of all the time that’s passed, significant of the fact they don’t know these new versions of each other. 

“Yeah um, can’t really do summer braids with the W season,” Azzi chews at her lip.

“Right yeah- yeah that makes sense,” Paige nods. The awkwardness is killing her. She’d never been a fan of the silence, always more comfortable in the chaos but it had been different with Azzi. There had been something peaceful, something calming, about the quiet, when it was just the two of them, hands intertwined, eyes closed, as they listened to the sound of each other’s heartbeat. 

“Paige-”

“Are you here to tell me not to come to GSV?” Paige blurts out, “because it’s- it’s okay if you are like I get it. I mean- the two of us- it’s just really fucking complicated so I get it- I get it if you don’t want me here.”

“I didn’t,” Azzi admits and it shouldn’t, but Paige feels it sting anyways, “you’re right. You and I- there’s just a lot there and it would- it would be really complicated and when Colleen first told me I- I was gonna go fight Omehaa and be like abso-fucking-lutely not but-” she sucks in a deep breath, “do you remember the promise we made to each other?”

“We made a lot of promises to each other,” Paige says, unable to keep the harshness out of her tone, “sorry I-”

“No you’re right,” Azzi swallows, “but I meant the promise we made when we first started dating. We said we’d never let the personal affect the professional. We promised each other that no matter what, we’d never let our relationship affect us on the court And I know- I know we’ve broken a lot of promises to each other,” they both let out a breath at that, “but I think- I think maybe we should try and keep this one.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you need a championship contender and GSV needs a PG. Paige, I’m not here to convince you to not come to GSV, I’m here to ask you to join our team,” Azzi says resolutely. 

Paige isn’t easily shocked by anything really. She’s lived what she’d consider a pretty interesting life but of course if anyone was going to surprise her, it would be Azzi. Azzi, who has always been an exception to every rule. 

“You- you want me on your team?” Paige repeats, a little dumbfounded.

“Yes,” Azzi affirms, “you told me once that we could be the best backcourt duo in college basketball and we were, even if it was only for a year, we were and so now I’m telling you that I think we could be the best backcourt duo in the WNBA.”

Paige is silent for a second before a smirk takes over her features, “I think I did a lot more than tell you, pretty sure I had a whole video that proved it.”

“Are you asking me to make you a recruiting video?” Azzi raises an unamused eyebrow. 

Paige shrugs, “could be a nice gesture.”

“I have a five year old child, Bueckers. Trust me when I say I don’t have enough spare time for bullshit like that when you can easily just search up our highlights on youtube. Or just look in your trophy case if you’re looking for proof of how good we can be together,” Azzi says, a hint of that familiar sass bleeding into her spiel. 

“We really were good together weren’t we,” it spills out before Paige can stop it and it’s like they’re taking two steps back from each other, the friendly-ish banter of mere seconds ago being clouded by a past tainted by their mistakes, “on the court I mean. We were really good on the court.”

“Right,” Azzi averts her gaze, “just- just think about it okay? This doesn’t- it doesn’t have to be about you and me, not like that at least. It’s about basketball. GSV is the perfect fit for you and you’re the perfect fit for us. And deep down you must know that too, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

“Maybe I’m just in it for the free trip to Cali,” Paige surmises. 

Azzi scoffs, “you and I both know you make too much money to need a free trip to Cali. If anything, the hotel they’ve given you is probably cheap for your standards.”

“Maybe I just like feeling important? I always did love people showering me with praise.” 

“You always did love the attention,” Azzi grins teasingly, “but there’s one thing you always loved more.”

You, Paige thinks but she can’t say that, “and what’s that?”

“Winning. That’s what this is about. You want another championship, so do we. Come help us and let us help you. It’s that simple.”

As Azzi turns to walk away, Paige can’t help but call out from behind her, “you know I think your daughter’s pitch might have been better.”

There’s a smile playing on Azzi’s lips when she turns her face back a little. It’s a new smile that Paige can only assume is Azzi’s Stephie smile,  “yeah? What did she say?”

“She told me she thinks I’d look good in purple,” Paige smirks. 

Azzi laughs, and it’s exactly like Paige remembers,  “it’s that simple huh?”

“It’s that simple.”

[sen-ya]

Sen's Important Info Post

Post last updated 10/29/24

Hey I'm Sen and I draw One Piece too much! I am terrible at keeping things easy to find, turns out when ur job is project management you don’t want to also do it in ur down time. My current theme is following the dopamine, keeping it as fun as it can be for me to draw. Below the cut is information on the different AUs & serializations I've got going on right now :^)

Important Links

[How to use Airtable]

[Sen's Digital Comic Book] - a database of every comic I've made that is woefully not updated often I am sorry. I gotta work on a better system for easy viewing.

[Life After Digital Comic Book] - a database of every page of Life After

[See Comics Early on Ko-Fi!]

[Life After Info Post] - Life After is currently on hiatus!

Posting Schedule

Thursday - Serialized Comics (current: Family AU//Forgetful)

Universe: Main Timeline

Comics that belong to this timeline are meant to follow through the events of canon, many of them were written while I was actively reading and didn't know what would happen next! Every comic that receives this tag happens in the same universe, so they may refer to each other in both plot-important and not important ways. These comics are largely LuLaw but include sprinkles of Heart Pirates (in general and as family), ZoSan, and general shenanigans.

Serializations:

Getting Together - Will they/won't they? They will, but they're gonna be stupid about it. Anything tagged into this series you can assume they haven't established that they're romantically interested in each other.

Established LuLaw - Two idiots in love. Anything tagged with this series you can assume they're together. They may not refer to each other as "boyfriend" or "partner" but whatever it is that's going on is clear to the two of them and that's what matters.

Law Loses - Most comics in this series deal with the aftermath of Winner Island. Law feels like a curse.

Goofs Only - These comics don't require serialization. They're just some good fun. If they include LawLu/LuLaw, they'll also be tagged as either "Getting Together" or "Established" so you have context for their reactions.

The Heart Bros - Law, Bepo, Penguin, and Shachi found each other as kids. Comics in this series act as glimpses into their time growing up and other brotherly interactions. This is noncompliant with the Law novel. Once they form the Heart Pirates, they consider each other brothers.

ZoSan - I don't draw these two a lot anymore, so this series is just a general ZoSan category!

Heart Pirate Shenanigans - I went all in on Heart Pirates Week 2024 and wrote a bunch of comics about the various crew members! Leaving this as an open series for when I inevitably fall down another Heart Pirate rabbit hole.

Universe: Older/Family AU

Comics that belong to this timeline are meant to follow through the events of canon, many of them were written while I was actively reading and didn't know what would happen next! Every comic that receives this tag happens in the same universe, so they may refer to each other in both plot-importanComics in this universe take place anywhere from 7 - 30 years post canon. Mostly LuLaw with sprinkles of other shenanigans. You can assume events from the main timeline are canon in this AU.

Serializations:

Accidents Happen - Law gets a cold and stops running a few effects that he'd taken for granted.

Getting Married - Did you know if two pirate captains want to get married, they can just say they're married?

Extras - This series is for posts that offer context/additional information about what's going on in the AU

Family Fluff - These are a series of comics where the focus is on Law and/or Luffy as a parent.

Forgetful - Law gets hit by a devil fruit that makes him forget everything that's happened since just before Marineford.

Get back to it - After spending some time on Zou in Rocy's first 18 months, it's time for Luffy & Law to get back to pirating.

Universe: The Worst Timeline

Comics in this universe branch off of the main timeline around Whole Cake/early Wano. These comics may refer to earlier 'main timeline' events, but what happens in them is so terrible I've refused to make them part of my own personal canon. Sometimes it's just too temping to make them suffer :^)

Serializations:

Rightfully Worried - This series is an AU in which Luffy gets the absolute shit kicked out of him in Whole Cake and when he arrives on Wano Law has to save his life. It's not the first time he's performed surgery on him, but it is the first time he's had to since he's cared so much about his patient.

The Worst Wake-Up Call - During an intense battle, Law makes a decision. The ones who love him deal with the aftermath.

[redroomreflections]

Before Sunrise - A Family Of Her Own Series

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A Family of Her Own Series

3/7

Masterlist | General Masterlist

w/c: 3.3k

Summary: After the fall of the Avengers, Natasha Romanoff returns home to her secret family—a life she's carefully hidden away for years. Struggling to balance her role as a mother and wife while avoiding the dangers of her past, Natasha is forced to make difficult decisions that impact her loved ones.

This Chapter: Natasha has a secret family. Set during the BW films. She brings her Red Room family to meet them. She has a moment with her daughter.

Part 3 of many more.

Just like the night, the house was quiet in the early hours of the morning, the kind of stillness that only comes before the world wakes up. Natasha moved quietly through the hallway, her bare feet making no sound on the wooden floor. Despite being away so often, she knew her daughter’s rhythms like second nature—how Stella always woke up just before the first hint of sunlight touched the horizon.

As she pushed open the door to Stella’s bedroom, the soft creak of the hinges sounded louder in the silence, but it didn’t disturb the little girl. The room was painted like an aquarium, deep blues and greens swirling together, with playful fish and, of course, a giant shark on one wall. Stella’s obsession with sharks had taken over every part of her imagination, but despite the ocean theme, she had recently begged for a new princess-style bed set, complete with pink sheets and a tiara-shaped pillow.

Natasha smiled faintly as she took it all in, her heart tugging at the juxtaposition of her daughter’s fierce fascination with predators of the sea and her innocent love for all things sparkly and soft.

She quietly made her way to the rocking chair tucked in the corner, the same one she had rocked Stella in as an infant. Natasha eased herself into the chair, making sure her movements were slow and deliberate.

Sitting there she let her eyes trace over Stella’s small sleeping frame. Her daughter looked so peaceful, her soft breaths steady and uneven. This was the quiet Natasha craved. The moments when everything felt so simple.

The ticking of a clock was the only sound, rhythmic and soothing. Natasha knew Stella would stir soon, her internal clock always waking her before the first light of day. That was part of why she had come in early—to be here, to sit with her daughter before the day inevitably pulled her back into the chaos she couldn’t seem to escape. Even if she couldn’t always be present, she wanted to savor these moments, the ones where she could just watch over her without needing to rush off to fight someone else’s battles.

But as she sat there, a familiar ache settled in her chest. Being gone so much meant missing out on these quiet mornings. The guilt gnawed at her, especially now, watching how peaceful Stella looked. Remembering how excited Stella looked to see her just yesterday morning made her want to call all of this off. Leave Tony to deal with the mess they created. It would be too selfish.

Natasha allowed herself to settle into the rocking chair, peace finding her once again, and she closed her eyes. The familiar rustling of blankets caused her to open them again. Stella stirs against her blankets before sitting up. She sways gently, fighting whatever sleep calls to her, as she surveys the room. She rubs tiredly at her eyes.

“Mommy,” She calls out for you. Though you wouldn’t come. Not when Natasha asked for this morning alone with your daughter.

“I’m here, love,” Natasha says softly.

Stella turns to her, and even in the dimness of the room, she can make out her features—the slight smile that spreads across her face. It seems she forgot that Natasha was home.

“You real?” Stella asks.

Natasha chuckles.

It was a game they had played before. In the middle of the night when Stella would wake from a bad dream, sometimes she would think she was in the past, her mind playing tricks on her.

“I am real,” Natasha nods.

Stella crawls across her bed and onto her knees. She leans forward, reaching out to cup her cheek. She squishes it with her tiny hands and grins.

Natasha reaches out and takes hold of Stella.

“Mama’s home,” Stella whispered as she pressed herself deeper into Natasha’s arms.

Natasha presses her lips to the top of Stella’s head.

Stella curls closer to Natasha, a sigh leaving her. Natasha rocks her back and forth until her breathing steadies out and her body relaxes.

“I love you,” Natasha whispers.

“Mama?” Stella looks up at her with big brown eyes. Natasha studies the features of her daughter. She hums, letting her know she is listening.

Stella shifts in her lap, pressing her nose into her neck.

Natasha closes her eyes and holds her tight.

“Are you going on another airplane?” Stella asks. Of course, most of it sounds like gibberish as she is only two and developing a vocabulary but Natasha understands it nonetheless.

She sighs heavily and kisses the top of her head.

Natasha didn't want to tell her, didn't want her to have to go through the process of waiting for her mom to return.

“Not today,” Natasha answers.

“I don‘t want you to go on any more airplanes,” Stella shakes her head. “I just want you to be my Mama and stay home.”

Natasha feels tears prickle in her eyes. The little girl snuggled into her mother’s chest, unaware of the storm she’d just stirred.

Natasha squeezed her, her grip firm yet tender, but she didn’t say anything. She couldn’t. Her throat tightened, and for the first time in a long while, she felt completely helpless. She rocked them back and forth, trying to maintain the rhythm, as if that could soothe both of them, as if the gentle motion could drown out the ache in her chest.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

Each rock of the chair was an attempt to hold herself together, but Natasha could feel the cracks widening. The words repeated in her head, tearing through her defenses. I just want you to be my Mama and stay home.

She had faced down armies, survived impossible missions, but this—this tiny request from her daughter—felt like a blow she couldn’t recover from.

The tears prickled in her eyes, stinging with the weight of everything she couldn’t say. The truth, the life she lived, the constant leaving—it all flashed through her mind, and for the first time, it felt like she had failed at the one thing that truly mattered. How could she explain to Stella that being Mama wasn’t something she could always do? That her other life—the one filled with danger and sacrifice—wasn’t something she could walk away from, even if it meant breaking her daughter’s heart?

Stella pulled back just slightly, her wide eyes staring up at Natasha, waiting for an answer, for reassurance that Mama would stay.

But Natasha couldn’t lie. Not to her. Not to this little girl who looked at her like she was her entire world. The lump in her throat grew, and she felt the sting of tears pressing harder, threatening to spill over.

“Oh, baby…” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady.

She kept rocking. Back and forth. Back and forth.

But no matter how much she rocked, the ache wouldn’t go away. Stella didn’t understand why Natasha left, why she couldn’t be like other mothers who stayed home and tucked their children into bed every night. And how could she? Natasha had crafted a life of secrecy and danger, one that her daughter couldn’t begin to fathom.

The silence between them stretched, broken only by the soft creak of the chair and the quiet sniffle from Stella, who had already nestled back into Natasha’s arms. Natasha kissed the top of her head, holding her as close as she could, as if holding her tight enough might somehow make up for all the times she couldn’t be there.

But it wouldn’t.

And for the first time in a long time, Natasha let the tears fall. Not because she was scared, not because she was angry, but because she finally let herself feel the weight of what she had sacrificed. She could take down enemies and save the world, but she couldn’t protect her daughter from the one thing she longed for most—her mother.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

She rocked them both, knowing that no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t promise Stella what she truly needed. She could only be there for this moment, holding on for as long as she could, before the world would pull her away again.

And in that moment, Natasha felt like the biggest idiot for ever believing she could balance both worlds without breaking something—without breaking someone.

“Mama, why you not talking?” Stella asks, the confusion on her face reminding Natasha so much of you.

She smiles sadly and presses her lips to the top of her head, inhaling deeply.

She was here, holding her, and even though it wasn't forever, she would soak up every moment.

“I’m sorry,” It leaves her lips in a broken mess. One Stella doesn’t catch. “I’m sorry for leaving you.”

Stella doesn't say anything, her fingers clutching tighter around her neck.

Natasha sighs deeply, her fingers brushing softly over the crown of her head.

Natasha swallows tightly. “You’re my baby and I love you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Stella nods. “Mommy tells me that every day.”

Natasha nods, her lips pulling into a smile.

Her fingers curl into the hem of her shirt and Natasha leans forward.

She closes her eyes, trying to hold onto the moment for just a little longer.

“It’s almost my birthday and then I’m going to be three,” Stella reminds her. “So big. Right? I’m even taller right now.”

Natasha nods, opening her eyes, watching the way her daughter wiggles and moves, showing her height.

Stella stops moving, her eyes widening.

Natasha blinks back tears but doesn't look away.

“Mommy says I need a haircut soon,” Stella grips tendrils of brown hair before dropping her hand. “I want my hair to be like Rapunzel.”

Natasha lets out a watery laugh.

Her daughter was so beautiful and innocent.

Natasha presses her face against the top of Stella's head, the scent of her strawberry shampoo filling her nose.

“Mama, did you see my baby brother? He was sick yesterday but Mommy takes good care of him,” Stella reminds her.

“Your Mommy always takes good care of you both,” Natasha says. Stella simply chuckles. She agrees.

“Can we go eat breakfast now?” Stella asks her.

Natasha lets out a breathless chuckle, shaking her head at her daughter.

Natasha sets Stella on her hip, standing slowly from the rocking chair.

She carries her down the hallway towards the kitchen. They could eat breakfast together.

next part

[iid-smile]

can't get rid of me , fushiguro toji series

| overview |

never date a criminal for the thrill, especially a cheating bum like him. you've forgiven toji one too many times, so many red flags you didn't see, like him stealing your surname and divorcing you right after. the birth of your son, megumi, was the last straw, except he was the one that left you. he's a liar, a cheater, a deadbeat, a misogynist... there's so much more you want to say. did you still cry? yes. did it still break you? yes. six years passed, and somewhere in that time, you saw on the news that he got caught. good for him. but not good for you, because once that prison got a hold of your house number, and then your mobile phone number, they were calling you nonstop. apparently, said cheating bum misses you. really misses you.

| content warning |

cheating, profanity, smoking, crime, mentions of murder and violence, pregnancy, angst, suggestive themes once or twice (no smut!), toxic ex toji, toji honestly just wants some love, nothing that's too off from what happened in the manga/anime except you're "mamaguro" (dont wanna get mixed up with surnames), and his ways of living never changed for the better, may or may not get fluffy as this progresses, nothing violence/crime related is explicitly described

| main cast |

fushiguro toji, fushiguro megumi, kong shiu

feel free to hide this tag — #cgrom ୨ৎ — if you wanna hide this!

prologue: before the storm

you're desperate. seeing the only man you've loved in your life walking away from you was making you desperate. you try you best to keep up with his long strides, attempting to grab at his shirt, only to be just out of reach. "toji—"

"i already told you, whatever's in your stomach, it's not mine." that hurt, those words. it hurts each time he says them.

you speed up and get in front him, to block him away from the only exit. "i haven't been with anyone but you!" you plead. useless, really. "you can't just stand here at tell me it's not yours, toji. this is our son!"

"your son now. you should stay away if you know what's good for you." with ease, he pushes past you, his deep voice rumbling through your veins and making you... dizzy. are you this attached to the point it's driving your body insane? "got too much debt to pay for another needy clone like you."

the one time he willingly turns to you, is when he drops the keys, your keys, on the floor. "keep the place, though it's under your name anyways." and he has the audacity to laugh in your face. indeed it is under your name, because this guy who actually has a "job" refuses to pay for shit, living around for free.

the door slams shut.

you don't doubt he was sleeping elsewhere most nights. who knows who that guy was messing with? now you've only got yourself to deal with... and a plus one.

table of contents

i. a strong legacy to be left behind

you've been muting your phone over and over again the entire week, and it's stressing you out. what's worse is bills are due in a weeks time, you haven't eaten in ages, megumi's elementary school is putting pressure on you, and you're running out of your beloved cigarettes. how many times will you have to come clean to your six year old son to try and make him understand?

ii. sent straight from... hell, with a cigarette in hand

you snuck out at night. you're desperate with any sort of relief, but being a "good" mother comes at its cost. coincidentally, your lighter went out just before your cigarette could light. lucky. as if it was meant to— or orchestrated to happen, there's a man next to you that just so happens to have a light. talking to strangers isn't so risky... or that's what you think, at least.

iii. shopping spree with a stranger's card

talking to strangers really isn't risky! especially when they're loaded with money. not a single time did you have the temptation to fill your carts with the finest luxury, or items that have been on your wishlist for ages. no, not at all. all you asked for was some help with your bills, and to let megumi get whatever he wants.

iv. a jealous ex

not this bum again... it's been six years, why can't he get over you? to your dismay, his personality has become ten times more potent, which means ten times more snarky, sarcastic and smart-mouthed, and ten times more that you're this close to wanting to rip your ears out. just this once, you'll hear him out. no way he still thinks you'll take him back in a heartbeat; he knows you're not that dumb.

v. ???

tba...

[krirebr]

More Than This 1

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~4.1k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, a very brief conversation about the possibility of abuse, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: And here we go! A huge thanks to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for helping me nail down some of the worldbuilding details and @paperweight91 for reading so much of this and especially telling me how to fix the scene that refused to be fixed. You're both the best!!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

It was uncommon to be called to your stepfather’s office. The high rise on the edge of Studio City had housed the heads of his family since the silent film era, give or take a remodel and expansion or five. You’d only been here a handful of times, mostly left out of the family business. When his assistant opened the door for you, you were surprised to see a small group of people, all in expensive business attire, surrounding your stepdad, Joseph Rogers, at his desk. Even more surprising was the figure standing in the corner, staring out the window – your mother. 

“Mom?” you asked, unable to hide your confusion. She just gave you a tight smile in return and turned her attention to her husband.

“Sweetheart,” he called to you. It’s what he’d called you since you’d first met him as a child and it had always felt patronizing and empty. You were well aware that you were an annoyance he’d been saddled with when he’d married your mother for her late first husband’s connections. Eighteen years later, you wished he’d drop the pretense already. “Please, have a seat,” he gestured to the leather chair in front of his large oak desk. 

You sat down across from him. “What’s going on?” you asked, an uneasy feeling building in your gut.

“Congratulations are in order,” he said, smiling at you. “You’re engaged.”

Years of experience at bullshit industry and society parties had you pasting on a benign smile. This was your fourth, no fifth engagement, the first one dating all the way back to when you were 10. They’d all dissolved for one reason or another, the business arrangements at the heart of them disintegrating too. But looking around the room at all the extra people in attendance, you knew better than to dismiss this outright. You were older now. Many of your friends from school had found themselves married as part of business deals in the last few years. Love matches were uncommon in the circles you frequented. There wasn’t much patience for love when this much money was at stake. But still, just because it was expected, that didn’t make you any more ready for your turn. 

“That’s wonderful,” you said, putting all your effort into keeping your tone even. “May I ask whom I’m engaged to?” 

“Ransom Drysdale,” Joseph said. “He’s the grandson of Harlan Thrombey, the mystery writer. We’ve been trying to secure the movie rights to his works for years and this should finally cement it. It’s fantastic news for our family and this studio. The joining of our families should create many opportunities for all of us. Ransom is one of the most eligible bachelors in Boston. You should feel very lucky.”

Lucky was the last thing you felt right now, but you kept your face schooled as you ran through your mental Rolodex to try to figure out if you had any social connections to this man. The fact that he lived on the other side of the country made it less likely but not impossible. 

“So,” he continued, sliding a stack of papers across his desk to you, “all you need to do is sign and initial the contract where it’s marked, and we can get started finalizing the details for the wedding next month.”

At that, all your poise disappeared and the smile dropped off your face. “Next month?”

Joseph nodded. “It’s important to strike while the iron is hot with deals like this. So go ahead and sign so that we can all move on to the next stage.”

Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. This was happening. This one was real. “Shouldn’t I read it first?” you asked, somewhat desperately.

He shook his head, “No need,” he said, gesturing to the man you recognized as one of the family lawyers standing beside him. “Julian has already gone through it with a fine-toothed comb. All of our interests are well represented. It’s all in legalese anyway. Impossible to understand if you aren’t a lawyer.” He chuckled and many of the people standing around the desk, staring at you, joined him. 

“I just–” you stammered. You didn’t know what to do, but you knew you couldn’t pick up that pen.

Irritation bloomed on your stepfather’s face. “Lydia!” he called. 

Your mother stopped staring out the window and stepped up to your chair. “Honey,” she said gently, putting her hand on your back. “This will be such a good thing. And then we can get to all the fun parts of planning the wedding!” She picked up the pen and held it out to you. You took a moment to look at her. Her features were drawn and her eyes looked exhausted. She’d looked that way as long as you could remember. It did nothing to reassure you. 

You glanced at the door behind you. You knew you weren’t getting out of this room without signing the contract. You took a deep breath and took the pen from your mother. There was nothing else to do. No other choice. You quickly flipped through the papers, initialing where indicated and signing the last page. Your hand was shaking so badly you weren’t sure any of it was legible.

When you turned over the last page, Joseph clapped his hands together. “Excellent!” He took a large binder off the desk and passed it over to you. “We’ve put some information together for you on your new fiance. Ransom will be in town next week to take you to dinner so that the two of you can get to know each other. Now, I’m sure you want to go celebrate, so we won’t keep you any longer.”

At the clear dismissal, you stood up. Many people in the room offered their congratulations and you nodded to them, forcing a strained smile. Then you made your way out on shaky legs, needing to see the one person who might be able to help you process what had just happened.

You’d been six years old when you and your mother had moved into the Rogers mansion. You were terrified, already able to sense Joseph’s indifference towards you. But your comfort during that time, and all the time after, had been his son, Steve. Twelve years old, still reeling from the death of his mother and just as deeply lonely as you, he’d named himself your protector, shielding you from his father’s annoyance and your mother’s sorrow. He guarded you from monsters when you woke up in the middle of the night after a nightmare and would stare down your bullies on the playground. You were very quickly inseparable. 

When you became engaged the first time when you were ten, sixteen-year-old Steve had taken you out for ice cream, telling you not to worry too much, there was so much time before anything would happen and that everything would be ok. When the arrangement had fallen apart, he’d hugged you and whispered in your ear, “See? I’m always right.”

That was the memory you couldn’t stop thinking about as you let yourself into your stepbrother’s apartment, using the key he’d given you on the day he’d moved in. He wasn’t in his front room, so you moved all the way to the back, to the spare room he used as an art studio. You lightly knocked on the doorframe as you entered, trying not to startle him. He was standing with his hands on his hips, staring at a half-finished painting, but looked over his shoulder as soon as he heard you. There was a warm smile on his face, but it dropped as soon as he took in your expression. “What happened?” he asked as you flopped down onto his couch.

“I think I might be really fucked, Steve,” you said quietly, your hands still shaking. You couldn’t get them to stop.

“What happened?” he asked again, more forcefully this time, as he dragged a chair from the corner of the room so that he could sit right across from you.

“Your dad, he–” You stopped and shook your head. Steve’s face darkened. “I’m engaged,” you said with a helpless shrug.

“Okay,” he said evenly. “That might not be the most dire thing. You’ve been engaged before. Nothing ever comes of it.”

You sighed. “They’ve set a date this time.”

“Oh,” was all he could say at first, surprise on his face. “That’s new.”

“Yeah.” you nodded. “A month from now.”

That had Steve sitting up straight. “The hell?!”

“It’s happening this time. I can feel it.”

“Hey, no,” he said, reaching out to touch your arm. “Let me try to talk some sense into him. Buy you some time. He might listen to me.”

You shook your head. “Everything’s already signed. They made me sign. I don’t think there’s any getting out of it.”

“He give you a name?”

“Ransom Drysdale.”

Before he was able to stop himself, Steve grimaced.

“Fuck,” you muttered, briefly covering your face with your hands.

“No, it’s– I’ve only met him once or twice, ok? I don’t actually know anything about him.”

“But you don’t like him.”

“He’s–” Steve paused, clearly trying to find the words that wouldn’t upset you even more, “a strong personality.” He looked at you carefully. “And he’s older than you. Older than me, even.”

“I know,” you sighed, reaching for your bag and taking out the folder. “They gave me this.”

You handed it to Steve and he paged through it. “This is intense. Do you think they gave him one about you?”

You shrugged. “Dunno. Probably. Can’t imagine it says anything interesting.”  

Steve nodded, seriously. “It’s probably pretty thin. Just the story of that time you completely freaked out when you weren’t allowed to bring Mr. BunBun to school with you.”

You grabbed the pillow next to you and hurled it at him. “You’re such a dick!” you laughed. “I’m very upset!”

He batted the pillow back at you and cackled when it hit you in the chest. “He deserves to know the kind of person he’s marrying. The kind who throws a five-alarm tantrum when she’s separated from her stuffed bunny.”

“I was eight, asshole!” You laughed again but then your brain caught on something Steve had said. “Holy shit, he’s marrying me. I’m getting married. I don’t know anything about him. He could be anyone. You don’t even like him! He could hurt me and–” 

“Hey, no!” Steve interrupted quickly. “I might not know much, but I know that. He won’t do that. I’m sure of it. And if he ever even tried, I’d be there so fast. They’d never find his body.”

“Will he be kind to me?” you asked quietly. He opened his mouth to say something, but you stopped him. “Be honest with me. Please.”

He sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Well,” you said, trying so hard not to cry, “I guess at least now we know exactly how your dad feels about me.”

Steve closed his eyes and quietly said your name. When he opened them, there was a resolved look on his face that was painfully familiar. His ‘I’m going to fix this’ face. He was intractable when he got like this. He set his jaw. “I’m going to talk to Dad.”

You shook your head. “Steve.” Your stepfather was just as intractable as his son. This would only result in a shouting match that wouldn’t go anywhere.

“It’s going to be alright,” he said resolutely.

All you could do was say “OK,” with a wan smile, knowing it was a lie. You lay down on the couch and curled up on your side. “Do you mind if I stay here for a bit?”

“Of course not. Lola good on her own for a while?”

You nodded. Your little dog was probably asleep in her kennel. “Yeah, for a while.”

“Do you mind if I keep working on this?” he asked, gesturing to his painting.

“I like watching you paint,” you said, trying to find comfort in the familiarity of something you’d done since you were small.

He stood up and turned back to his easel, and you did your best to focus on watching him paint and not think about how, if this went through, you’d have to move to Boston and you wouldn’t get to have this time with your brother anymore.

As expected, Steve’s talk with Joseph yielded no results when it came to your future. The only thing it seemed to have any effect on was their own relationship, Steve announcing to you that he was no longer speaking to his father the next time you saw him. You hadn’t expected anything else.

For your part, you spent the next week vacillating between going overboard preparing for your first meeting with Ransom—pouring over your folder on him, making salon appointments, shopping for a dress that would make the right impression—and pretending your problems didn’t exist. As such, the day of the dinner still snuck up on you. You were a nervous wreck. 

The plan was for him to pick you up at your apartment, but an hour before he was supposed to arrive, you got a text from an unfamiliar number telling you to meet him at the restaurant instead. 

So now you sat at the table, alone, in a new dress with your hair done. You’d arrived ten minutes early, and he was now 20 minutes late. You took a deep breath, staring at the empty seat across from you. He would show up. He had to. 

Another ten minutes passed and, as you waived off the server for a third time, you let yourself consider what it would mean if your future husband had stood you up. You should go. It’d be pathetic to stay. And even if he did show up after you’d gone, it’d make a point. Show you had a backbone. You should definitely go.

Just as your hand began to inch toward your handbag on the table, the hostess came through, leading a tall, handsome man to your table. She stopped beside you and then ducked away. The man looked at you critically. He said your name like a question and, when you nodded, he sat down. He didn’t introduce himself, but he could only be Ransom. 

He was dressed nicely in an expensive sweater and slacks, but much more casually than you were and looking around the restaurant than most of the other people there, too. And when he sat down, you could see the places in his sweater where it was threadbare or torn. You tried very hard to not take it as a sign of how he felt about this dinner, felt about you.

You cleared your throat to say something, you weren’t entirely sure what when he glanced at your glass of water. “You don’t drink?”

“No, I do,” you said, but when he smirked you realized how that sounded. “I can,” you amended, but that sounded odd too. “I mean, I don’t have anything against it. I was just waiting for you.”

He snorted. “Well, aren’t you polite?”  His tone made it feel like the worst thing you could possibly be. He flagged down the server and ordered a glass of the Macallan 18, then huffed impatiently while you asked questions about their wine selection. You didn’t know how he could be half an hour late and make you feel bad for taking your time ordering. 

Once you’d finally made your choice and the server left, you tried not to squirm as he gave you a once-over with his eyes. You felt disappointing without really knowing why. You tried to shrug off the feeling, but then Ransom said, “How old even are you?” with scorn in his voice.

You cleared your throat. “Twenty-four,” you tried to say with confidence.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

You did your best not to shrink in on yourself. Maybe he was just nervous too. It was a weird situation. But, “Didn’t they tell you about me?”

He snorted again and rolled his eyes. “Gave me a whole binder. I never opened it.”

You looked down at your empty place setting, embarrassed. You’d studied every inch of what they’d given you, hoping to show him how seriously you were taking this and he couldn’t care less. “Oh,” was all you were able to say. 

He grinned a little meanly. “You got one too, didn’t you? Don’t tell me you’ve memorized facts about me that you were ready to rattle off to impress me.”

“No,” you growled out. You weren’t going to let him make you feel small just for trying to show interest in the person you were going to have to spend the rest of your life with.

He swiped one hand over his mouth and chin. “My god,” he muttered, “this whole thing is fucking ridiculous.”

The waitress came back and set down your drinks. Ransom immediately took a large gulp of his scotch. You itched to do the same, but you suddenly felt like proving a point. Even if you weren’t entirely sure what that point was. 

You were ready to order, but Ransom hadn’t glanced at his menu yet. Just as you were about to ask for a few more minutes, he said, “Go ahead and bring me another one of these right away,” and gestured with his drink in dismissal. She nodded and left.

Fuck it, you let yourself take a large drink of your wine. “Do you know what you’re going to have?” you asked, nodding to his menu.

He shook his head. “I have dinner plans after this.”

Heat shot through your whole body. “I thought these were the dinner plans.”

He rolled his eyes again. “Getting a head start on the nagging?” he asked, dryly. “Wow, it’s like we’re already married.”

You opened your mouth to do something, you weren’t sure what. Everything in your mind had gone white. But once again, Ransom beat you to it. “Alright, let’s get this done. You’re moving into my house. Fine. But I already have everything we need, so I expect you to pack light. I don’t need your shit cluttering up everything.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. You didn’t know how to have a conversation with him. Someone who left no room for you and seemed not to care at all about anything you had to say. And then there was the voice in your head that kept shouting about how incredibly important this dinner was to the rest of your life. And now it wasn’t even dinner. So when you opened your mouth to speak, what came out was, “I have a dog.”

He stared at you for a moment, seemingly surprised that you’d spoken at all. “What? No. Absolutely not. You’ll have to get rid of it. I hate dogs.”

You didn’t even bother to try to think through the static in your head. “She’s coming with me. I don’t care what else happens, I’m fucking bringing my dog.”

Ransom just narrowed his eyes and stared at you for a moment, then, “Fine. Just keep it away from me. And if it destroys my house, you’re getting rid of it. I’m serious.”  

“She won’t,” you said, as sure of that as anything. “She’s a good girl.”

“Whatever,” he said, as the server returned with his second drink. He slid his empty glass to the end of the table, then said, “The bill,” without looking at her. As she took his empty away, he continued to you, “I don’t know why you want to deal with a dog and a baby, but…” he shrugged.

You just blinked at him, trying to catch up with the massive leap he’d just taken. “Baby? What? Who said anything about a baby?”

He laughed, loudly. “Oh my god, they didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” you asked, harshly, panic starting to build up in your chest. 

“Of course, they fucking left that to me. There’s a clause in the contract,” he said, “requiring you to get pregnant with my child within the first year.”

You stared over his shoulder, you couldn't look him in the eye, horrified and speechless. You couldn’t breathe. How were you supposed to breathe?

“You seriously didn’t read your own marriage contract?” The judgment in his tone had you shrinking in on yourself. You couldn’t help it.

“They didn’t give me any time,” you said, quietly. “They just made me sign it.”

“And you always do what you’re told, don’t you? Yeah, you look like a good girl.” He said it the same way he’d called you polite when he’d first sat down with you. Like it made you weak. Stupid. You’d never thought so before, but now you wondered if he was right.

“Fuck,” you whispered.

He chuckled humorlessly. “We agree on that,” he said. “This whole thing is fucked.”

At some point, without your notice, the server had returned with Ransom’s card and the receipt. He signed it quickly, then stood up. “Listen, now, at least, we can go back to our parents, tell them we met, chatted, got to know each other. Everything is hunky dory. And then do whatever we want for the next three weeks. Right now, I’m going to try to salvage my night. You go do,” he gestured vaguely at you, “whatever you need to do. I’ll see you at the wedding.”

And then he was gone and you were alone.

You sat in the back seat of the car on the way back to your apartment, running over every moment of your evening. You kept thinking about the way he’d looked at you, talked to you. A baby. You were supposed to have a baby with him. A child that you’d have to raise. By yourself, judging by how invested in all this he seemed to be. Forty, fifty years of him looking at you like that, talking to you like that. And a baby. You leaned forward and asked the driver to take you to your parents’ house instead. 

Once you arrived, you said you needed to speak to your stepfather urgently and were shown to his study. You stood in the middle of the room, too anxious to sit down, and waited. Everyone was making you wait tonight. 

Several minutes later, Joseph finally came in. “We weren’t expecting you tonight,” he said. “How did it go?”

You ignored his question, which you guessed was an answer in itself. “Please don’t make me do this,” you pleaded. 

“Sweetheart,” he sighed, disappointed, and moved over to his bar, pouring himself two fingers of decanted whiskey. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”

“It was. It was awful. He’s– I can’t do this. Please, please don’t make me.” Your voice broke, but you couldn’t be embarrassed about it, not when you were staring down an entire lifetime with him. 

“Everyone gets nervous before their wedding. You’ll be fine. This is important. To all of us.”

“It’s not nerves!” You were close to shouting, suddenly. “You weren’t there. You don’t know. There have to be other families we need things from. It doesn’t have to be this family, does it? It doesn’t have to be right now. Please, please, anything else. I’m begging you, don’t make me marry him, have a child with him.”

He chuckled lightly. “Oh, that’s what this is about. It won’t feel as scary once the baby is here. You’ll make an excellent mother.”

You just stared at him, agape. He wasn’t listening to anything you had to say. “How could you not tell me that was part of the contract? I deserved to know. I wouldn’t have signed!”

His face hardened at that. “You were naive to not expect it. Of course, children are part of this. I admit that the timing is a little fast, but Harlan insisted.”

“Joseph, please listen to me. I can’t. I can’t. Please. If you care about me at all, you won’t make me do this.”

“You’re being ridiculous. It’s done. Everything’s signed. You signed. Now,” he said and took a drink, “it’s getting late. It’s high time you went home. Hopefully, you’ll be able to calm yourself down there.” And then he left the room, ignoring you as your whole world fell apart.

As you left, you passed your mother in the hall. Neither of you said anything.

When you got home, Steve was waiting for you, having already let himself in, holding Lola in one arm. “How did it go?” he asked seriously. You shook your head and finally let the tears fall. He pulled you into his arms, smushing you against your dog, and gently guided you into your home.

Part Two

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18

@drabblewithfrannybarnes

@thezombieprostitute

@jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@bval-1

[lee-laurent]

Picture Perfect - Luke Hughes

Summary: There was a reason that Tori and John broke up. Was there not?

content: children, angst, fluff, mentions of breakups, kissing, mentions of sex but no actual smut, mentions of pregnancy, crying, oc x ex!john marino

wc: 4.5k

notes: PART 8!! we're wrapping up guys! there are gonna be 10 parts, so the end is in sight. so happy that ppl have enjoyed this series!! :)

John's shirt was soaked, but he really couldn't have cared less. He was spending quality time with Riley. Getting to spend more time with his son than he almost ever had.

Riley giggled, launching his rubber duck off the faucet and into the bubbles below. He turned, making sure that his dad, who was sitting on the floor next to the tub, had seen the splash that the duck at made.

"Oo' watchin', Dada?" Riley beamed, clapping his hands as the duck resurfaced.

"I am! Very impressive, bud," he chuckled, scooping up some of the bubbles and placing them on Riley's head. The toddler giggled again, smacking the water with his hands. John lived for moments like that. Moments where he wasn't a professional hockey player. Moments where he was one thing and one thing only--Riley's dad.

"More! More!" Riley demanded, scooting forward to put the duck back on the faucet. He gave it a little push and it fell into the water with a plonk. His giggles filled the room again, kicking his legs to make waves that the duck "surfed" on.

John couldn't help but wonder how many moments like that he'd missed because of his career. How many bathtimes? How many storybooks? How many nights spent cuddling because Riley couldn't sleep? How many nights spent ridding the closet of monsters? Sure things with Tori were complicated, but he didn't want to miss out on those moments anymore.

"Alright, Ri-Ri, time to wash up before Mama gets on our case," John said, gently pulling the duck from Riley's grasp and reaching for the washcloth.

"Noooo, more ducky!"

"Hey, hey, no pouting. If we wash up fast and get all clean, maybe Mama will let us watch Scooby Doo before bed. What do you think?"

Riley blinked, considering the offer before finally nodding. "Otay, Dada."

John smiled, relived that he didn't have to deal with a tantrum. He reached for the Spiderman themed "no-tears" shampoo and body wash. Riley giggled as John created a mohawk using the watermelon-scented soap.

"Rockstar Riley."

"Woc-staw Wiley."

"That's right, Rockstar Riley," he said, carefully washing the suds out with a cup of warm water. The bath was winding down, and Riley seemed far more relaxed since the promise of watching Scooby Doo.

Once Riley was clean and towel-wrapped, John hoisted him out of the tub, careful to balance him on his hip as they headed to the bedroom. Tori met them in the hall, smiling when she saw Riley's sleepy eyes peeking out from under the towel.

"Looks like bathtime was a success."

"Yeah, we had a blast," John replied, rocking the bundled toddler back and forth.

"Watch 'Ooby Doo!" Riley piped up, his voice full of energy despite his half-closed eyes.

"Alright, but just one episode. Bedtime is soon."

"Otay, Mama."

Once pajamas were on, they settled into the living room, Riley snuggled between his parents on the couch. John sat back, his arm on the back of the sofa, while Riley rested his head on Tori's chest. His eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment but he refused to fall asleep.

"This... this feels right," John said quietly, more to himself than anyone.

"Yeah... it does."

The credits rolled and John picked up a sleeping Riley. "I'll put him down."

"He, uh, he needs a sleep sack... so he doesn't climb out."

"I know, Tori. He's slept at mine," John grinned, shaking his head.

"Right. I... I forgot."

"I'll be back."

"Night, Ri-Ri. Mama loves you," she mumbled, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

~~

"You heading out?" Tori asked, pausing the episode of Gossip Girl she had put on.

"I, uh, I assumed I was sleeping over."

"Sleeping over?"

John rubbed the back of his neck, "I just figured, since Ri's asleep and I did last night... maybe I'd stay again tonight."

Tori stared at him a moment, processing his words. Having him stay the first night had been because she needed him for support, the second night had been a moment of passion, but a third night? That felt different in her mind. It felt like they were sliding back into something they shouldn't. Especially since she and Luke hadn't officially... broken up.

"John... I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Why not? I mean, Riley's asleep, and we've had a good couple days. Why make things harder?"

She sighed, pulling her legs up against her chest. "It's not about making things harder. It's about... what's right. We haven't really talked about what's happening between us. And I don't think we can just fall back into this without figuring things out."

"I'm not saying we have to figure everything out tonight, Tori. But things have been working well. And I've missed so much not being here... I just-"

Tori swallowed, guilt twisting in her chest. She missed the simplicity of having John around too. The easy routine, the helping hands when it came to having a toddler, the family dynamic she'd always wanted for Riley. But what if their old issues snuck their way back in?

"And Luke," she said softly, not meeting John's eyes. "Things with Luke... we haven't officially broken up."

John tensed, "Right. Luke."

Tori winced at the bitterness in his voice. "It's complicated, John. You know that."

"It's always complicated with him, isn't it?" John muttered. "You're not with him, but you're not breaking up with him either. Meanwhile, you're having sex with me. I'm trying to figure out where I stand. Am I supposed to just wait around, Victoria?"

"That's not what I'm asking for. I just... we need to slow down. For our sake. For Riley's sake."

John just exhaled sharply, crossing his arms over his chest, but gave a nod. "I get it. You're right. I just... I need to be here, Tori. To be with Riley. To be with... I'll go. But I'm coming over after the game tomorrow night."

She stood up, walking him to the door, hoping that she'd made the right decision. "Thanks for understanding," she murmured.

"I'm always here for my son. Just, uh, I'll text tomorrow."

"Okay. Night, John."

"Goodnight, Tori."

It wasn't until she heard the click of the lock that she felt like she could breathe. She went into the kitchen, popping open a bottle of wine, before settling back onto the couch to finish her show. Why couldn't her life be easier?

~~

Tori woke up to Gossip Girl still playing on the TV. She blinked, groggy, realizing that she had fallen asleep on the couch. The empty glass of wine on the coffee table in front of her, a reminder of the emotionally charged conversation she'd had with John.

She stretched, rubbing her temples, but before she could get up to make herself a cup of coffee, Riley's voice echoed from his bedroom.

"Mama! Where Dada?"

Tori felt her heart sink. Riley's voice was getting louder, more insistent, and the last thing she wanted to deal with was a tantrum. So, she pulled herself up from the couch and made her way down the hall.

"Mama's coming! Mama's coming, baby!"

She opened the door to find Riley standing in his crib, his hands gripping the wooden rail, eyes wide and expectant.

"Where Dada?"

"Dada went home, sweetpea. He had to get ready for his game today."

"But who play dinos?"

Tori lifted him from his crib, holding him close. "I know, Ri-Ri. We'll see Dada soon, I promise."

"'oon?"

"Yes, baby. After his game, okay? He loves playing with you, remember?"

Riley nodded, "Play now?"

Tori hated this. Hated how complicated everything felt. She wanted Riley to be happy, to have the world he deserved--one where his dad was there when he wanted. But things didn't fall into place that easily. Last night had reminded her of how stubborn John could be, but maybe he could get over that for Riley.

"How about we eat breakfast first? Then maybe we can call Dada?"

"Otay."

Tori placed him in his high chair, getting him a bowl of cheerios and blueberries together. She knew deep down that he'd play with them more than he'd eat them, but she really wasn't in the mood to make pancakes or waffles.

"Mama?" he asked, sticking cheerios to his spit covered hand.

"Yes, baby?"

"Dada come home?"

She sighed, "We'll see him soon, Ri-Ri."

"'Uke?"

Tori nearly dropped her mug on the floor, her breath catching in her throat. She hadn't expected Riley to ask about him, especially when he seemed so fixated on his dad. She turned to look at him, placing her coffee down for safety.

"Luke?" she repeated, brushing his curls from his face.

Riley nodded, poking at another Cheerio. "Dada no play. 'Uke play?"

His innocent question cut deeper than she had expected. He had grown fond of Luke, and Tori now had to face that fact that Luke had been more than a casual part of Riley's life.

"Luke's... busy right now, baby."

"'ockey?"

"Yes, Luke's busy with hockey. So, he's not coming over today."

Riley's face scrunched up in disappointment, but he didn't press further. He instead just grabbed a blueberry and squished it under his finger.

"Don't play with your food, Riley. It's for eating."

"Otay," he replied, clearly not listening as he squished another berry. Tori just rolled her eyes, letting it go. She grabbed her coffee, leaning against the window. She had already felt bad about asking John to leave the previous night, and now Riley was asking for not just his dad but also Luke. She felt so stuck, like she was being pulled in two directions at once. On one hand was John, the father of her child. On the other, Luke, who had shown her a different kind of love, one that made her feel seen. Like she was more than just Riley's mom.

Her phone buzzed and she picked it up, hoping it would be Luke. But her prayers remained unanswered... it was just John.

Hope Ri slept well. I'll be by after game, like we talked about.

They hadn't really "talked" about it. He'd just kind of stated that he would be by after the game. It didn't really seem like Tori had much choice in the matter.

"Mama! Dinos?"

She shook herself from her daze, grabbing a washcloth to clean up Riley. "Dinos it is."

~~

When 7 o'clock rolled around, Tori had Riley sat in the living room in his 'Marino' jersey, playing dinos with the game on the TV. Even though he seemed only interested in his toys, Tori knew that the moment he heard John's name or his face flashed across the screen, his eyes would be glued to the TV.

Riley looked up, waving his dino in the air. "'Ook, Mama! Dino 's gonna eat Dada! Nom nom nom!"

"Oh no! You better tell dino to be nice to Dada!"

Riley made the dino "apologize," then went back to his game. John was out there, doing his job, being his best self while she sat at home and tried to put her life back together. The image of John being a larger-than-life hockey player conflicted with the John that she knew. The John that she fell in love with.

The game announcer mentioned John's name, and Riley perked up just as Tori expected. "Dada on TV!" he squealed, scrambling to his feet.

"Yep! They said Dada's name, huh?"

"Dada 'gon score?"

"Maybe." She wasn't really sure how much of the game Riley truely understood, but seeing him light up when John played brought a smile to her face.

It was funny how after years of being with John and then being friends that she still found it surreal to watch him on TV. To know that thousands of people knew his name and went to watch his team play, while she sat at home with their child at her feet, talking about how he was going to be just like Dada when he grew up. She'd always respond with "I bet Dada would love that." Although deep down she didn't want him to end up "just like" John. Sure things had been better recently, but John had his flaws. She just hoped that they could keep making things work for Riley.

But she also didn't want to lead him on. She had Luke to worry about, he--

"'Ook, Mama! Dada skatin'!"

"Yeah, baby. He's skating fast, isn't he?"

"Fast! Dada super fast!" He grabbed one of his dinosaurs, making it zoom across the table. God, could Riley possibly admire John more? He was like a fucking superhero to the toddler.

A commercial break started and Tori stood up to grab herself a snack.

"Riley, do you want a--"

Her phone buzzed. Probably just John again, giving her an update on the game.

Hey, we need to talk. I'll call after the game?

Luke? Why now? Why did he want to talk now?

"What, Mama?"

"Sorry, Ri. D'you want a pouch?"

"Yes p'wease! Pouch!"

Tori continued to stare at her phone as she grabbed Riley a fruit pouch from the cupboard. Luke's text felt like it was staring into her soul. Why had he decided to reach out halfway through a game? Had John made a comment, said something he shouldn't have? All the possibilities and she wouldn't get an answer until after the game.

She took a deep breath, then placed her phone face-down on the counter, grabbing herself a bowl of Goldfish crackers. Riley was happily bouncing around to the music playing in one of the commercials. If only she could be so relaxed.

"No more phone for the rest of the game," she mumbled, taking the pouch to Riley.

"Tank 'oo, Mama!"

"Of course, baby. Is Dada back on the TV yet?"

"'Uke! I see'd 'Uke!"

"You saw Luke on the TV?"

"Yes! In jail."

"In jail?" she furrowed her brow. What in the world did that mean?

"Yes, 'Uke in jail."

"I-" then the screen flashed to a furious looking Luke sitting in the penalty box. Of course Riley thought that was jail. John had probably taught him that, she rolled her eyes. "You're right. Luke is in timeout."

"He be bad, so they put him in jail," Riley nodded, making his dinos fight.

A few moments later, Luke skated back onto the ice. It felt weird watching him on the TV too. Like he was even more distant, more unreachable. The man who had become such an important part of hers and Riley's lives, now felt like a complication that she didn't want to deal with.

"'Uke is free. No more jail," Riley pointed, singing 'no more jail' to himself a couple more times.

"That's right. They freed him from timeout."

Tori spent the rest of the game on the floor with Riley, trying to keep her mind off things. And it worked, the rest of the game flew by and before she knew it, John was knocking at the door.

She forced herself to stand up, smoothing down her Devils t-shirt as she walked to the door. With a deep breath, she opened the door. John stood there in casual clothes, opposed to the suit that the Devils had posted a picture of him arriving in. His hair was damp from the showers, a reminder of the game that he had just won.

"Hey! Did you guys watch the game?"

"Yeah, he was glued to the screen everytime he heard your name," she smiled, motioning towards Riley, who was now busy making his dinos 'free' each other from jail just like Luke. "He was excited."

"Hey bud! Did you watch Dada on the TV?" John asked, scooping up the toddler.

"Dada went 'uper fast! Like zooooom! And then Dada win! And then my dino eat 'oo, Dada!"

"What?! Dino ate me?! You gotta be careful with those dinos, huh?"

"It's okay. I kiss it better," Riley grinned, pressing a kiss to John's cheek.

"Aww, thanks, Ri-Ri. I feel all better now."

Riley squirmed out of John's arms to go back to his dinos. Tori caught John's eye and for a moment it felt just the way it did when Riley was first born.

"You gonna stay for a bit?"

"Yeah. It'd be nice to play with him for a bit before bed."

"Perfect. I--"

Her phone started buzzing rhythmically. Someone was calling her. Luke was calling her.

"Shit. I gotta take this. I'll be right back," she forced a smile, taking her phone down the hall to her bedroom. "Hey."

"Hey. I, uh, sorry for texting during the name, but we need to talk. I've been doing a lot of thinking."

Tori sat on the edge of her bed. She had been expecting this, but now that it was happening, she didn't know how to respond. "Okay. What's on your mind?"

"I... I know things have been weird lately. I needed time to think. And I'm sorry I aired you for so long. But I need to know if we're still on the same page here, Tori. If this... if we still have a chance."

Tori swallowed, glancing at the closed door. John was out there, playing with Riley, and the reality of the situation felt heavier than it did before. She hated that no matter what, someone was going to get hurt.

"Things are complicated right now, Luke. I care about you, I do. But John... he's Riley's dad--"

"And you feel like you owe it to Riley to make things work with John," Luke finished for her, his tone clipped. "I get it, Tori. I do. But you need to figure out what you want. What's going to make you happy. Not just Riley."

"I'm a mom, Luke. Riley's happiness comes first. H--"

"Is that why you slept with John?"

"What?"

"Heard him talking to some of the other guys about it. Were you going to tell me?"

"I was going to tell you. I just didn't know when... or how. It-- it was just kind of happened. And we've been on this weird break, so--"

"So you decided that because I wasn't there, you'd sleep with your ex. Great. Do you have feelings for him, Tori? Is that what this is?"

"I don't know."

"You don't seem to know much, d'you? D'you know if you love me? Or is that still up in the air too?"

"Luke--"

"I don't know why I even called you. Call me when you figure your shit out. Until then, good luck."

The line went dead. Luke's words hit like a punch to the face. She blinked back her tears, refusing to have a break down right now--not with John and Riley both a few feet away. She didn't know what she wanted, and that was the truth. But hearing him throw it back at her didn't feel very nice.

Figure your shit out.

He was right. She couldn't keep doing this. Dragging two people she cared about--Hell, three people. Riley was part of this too--into a mess she made because she couldn't make a decision.

She composed herself, making her way back to the living room. John glanced up at her. He could see right through her fake smile. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing. Just, uh, just some stuff with Luke."

"If he makes you upset, why are you still wasting your time on him?"

"John. Not in front of Riley."

"They put 'Uke in jail, Dada," Riley decided to join the conversation.

"Yeah, you're right, Riley. Luke got a penalty," John had to keep himself from sighing listening to his son mention his mother's boyfriend.

"But you no in jail."

"Mhm."

"You was good."

"It's past time bedtime, Ri-Ri," Tori cut off, sensing that she and John weren't going to accomplish much with Riley in the room.

"Dada read cat-pilla?"

"You want Dada to ready you 'The Very Hungry Caterpillar'?" Tori asked for clarification.

"Uh huh."

"Alright. Let's go brush our teeth and get in our jammies. Then Dada and you can read." Tori picked him up and headed down the hall, John following behind. Once they'd settled on a pair of blue pajamas to wear under his sleepsack, he cuddled up with John on his rocking chair. He continued to babble about Luke and being put in jail. Talking about how bad guys go to jail. John sat there with an unreadable expression on his face, holding the picture book that Riley had requested.

"Okay, Ri. That's enough talking about jail. Let Dada read."

"Otay. 'oo stay Mama?"

"No, Mama's gonna go take a bath."

"Say 'goodnight' to Mama."

"Night, Mama."

"Night, baby," she responded, blowing him a kiss.

"In the light of the moon, a little egg lay on a leaf," John read aloud, Riley tracing little patterns on his dad's arm.

Tori double-checked that his nightlight was plugged-in before making her way to the bathroom for a much needed hot bath. She turned on the hot water and let the room fill with steam. She even poured in lavendar bath salts because it was one of those days. As she slid into the warm water, she could still make out John's voice reading out "The Very Hungry Caterpillar." It felt like everything was okay. Like they were a real family again.

But deep down, she knew that wasn't true. Luke's call had been a wake-up call. She needed to stop the indecision. She couldn't ignore the cracks forming around her. John was Riley's father, and he'd been there for her. Well, sort of. He was there for Riley, who was an extension of her. Luke had come into her life and been there for her. Not just for Riley, but for her. No questions ask. John always asked questions. He always had a motive behind his actions, but not Luke. Luke cared about her in a way that she wasn't sure John did. Sure, she was the mother of his child, so he'd always have some love for her. But she found it kind of convinent how he'd only tried to push more into her life once she started seeing Luke.

After what felt like an eternity with her thoughts, there was a knock at the bathroom door. "Ri's down for the night."

"Thanks."

"Mind if I hang out for a bit? Talk?"

"Uh, yeah, give me a minute."

"We can talk in there if you want."

"John..."

"Right. I'll be in your room."

"Thanks."

She sank deeper into the water, trying to get a few more moments of peace before she had to talk to John. Figure your shit out. No more limbo. It was time to face reality, no matter how uncomfortable it was.

She dried off and wrapped herself in a robe before finally heading down to her room. John was sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands resting on his knees.

"So what's on your mind?"

"I don't want to push you, V. I know things have been complicated and I don't want to make them harder. But I need to know where we stand. With Luke in the picture, I just... I can't keep pretending everything is fine."

"I get that. And I can't blame you for wanting answers. I just, I need to figure out what's best for Riley, for me. For everyone."

"I'm Riley's dad. Am I not what's best for him?"

"You know that's not what I mean, John. We'll always need you. You're his dad. And seeing the two of you recently, it... it's been so amazing."

"Victoria. I need to know what you want, though. Not for Riley. For yourself."

"God, you sound just like Luke," she threw her hands up.

"Why? Because we both want you to care for yourself too?"

Tori bit her lip, a lump rising in her throat. She had been asking herself the same questions for weeks, and now, sitting there with John, maybe things were become a little more clear. She cared about him. Hell, she loved him and she loved the family that they could be for Riley. But that wasn't enough, was it?

"I do care about me. But Riley comes first. And I thought... maybe we could try again, for his sake. But then, there's Luke. And he's been there for me, John, in ways that you... you haven't been in a long time."

John's jaw tightened, but he didn't interrupt.

"I feel like you've only really tried to be here for me since Luke came into the picture. And... that's not fair to any of us. I don't want to force something just because... just because we have a child together. I need to feel wanted for me... not because I'm Riley's mom."

John exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "I get that. And you're right, I... I wasn't always there like I shoul've been. But I'm trying now. I want to be there for you, for Riley, because I care about you. Not just because of him. But I can't wait around forever while you figure this out."

"I want to believe you, John. I really do. But... we haven't worked for a reason."

"Tori, I--" His words caught in his throat. "I know we haven't worked in the past, but things change. People can change. I'm trying. I am."

She didn't doubt that he was trying, but it was too late now. The damage had been done. And Luke had finally shown her what real, true love looked like.

"John--"

"I can't just walk away from this, from us. Not without knowing we've given us a real second chance."

"I don't know if... if there is a second chance here. We've tried so many times, but it's always for Riley. It's never for us. Us doesn't work, John. We... we work as co-parents, but we don't work as us."

"Tori, please..."

"John..."

"So that's it? You're choosing Luke?"

"I'm choosing what feels right for me. I can't keep pretending there's something here that isn't. I can't pretend just for Riley."

"But Riley needs us. Together."

"Riley needs us to be good parents. And we can do that without being together. We can give me stability, love, everything he needs. Everything you've been giving him the last few days. He needs that John to be around. I know work is draining, John. I can't even imagine what it's like being a professional athlete. But the John that's been here the last few days, playing and reading books to our boy. That's the John he needs all the time."

"You're right. I just... I haven't been ready to admit it."

"You're a great dad, John. And Riley is always going to need you. I will always need you here as his father. Luke isn't going to replace that. But we need to stop holding onto the past. It's time to move forward."

"I don't want to lose you guys."

"And you won't. We'll figure this out, John. Together, as Ri's parents."

"Yeah. As Riley's parents," John nodded, his voice hoarse.

With that, John leaned down and pressed a kiss to Tori's forehead before making his way to the door. Tori stood there, watching him go, feeling both the weight of what she'd done but also the relief that she was no longer trapped in two seperate worlds.

Now she needed to let Luke know that she'd figured her shit out.

[ejunkiet]

quick & dirty werewolf romance rec list

Wolfsong & the rest of the Green Creek Series by TJ Klune. Addictive, heart wrenching, fantastic. MM, adult, coming of age gay romances with high drama and romantic tension. If you want to read about werewolves, this is the gold standard. I'm in love with Klune's writing style. LGBTQA+ rep -- book three features an ace romance!!!

Cold Hearted by Heather Guerre (Tooth and Claw #1). @matsuoclan has the BEST book recommendations, oh my god. Grace moves to a remote town in Alaska to escape her past, and finds a new family, and more besides. Explores the themes of loneliness and depression with a supernatural twist, with a sprinkle of enemies to lovers. Love this book, will devour the series >:3

Ruby and the Wolf by Clover Down. @dominimoonbeam remains one of my favourite PNR writers. After putting her life on the line for a stranger, Ruby finds herself on the run from vampires with the wolf she saved. SO STEAMY. SO GOOD.

Mating the Huntress by Talia Hibbert. A werewolf falls head over heels for a hunter. SO GOOD. SO FUN. READ IT.

The Lone Wolf's Rejected Mate by Cate C Wells. Another book rec from a moot that I devoured. Wells is a guilty pleasure, and this is my favourite of this series. Deals with trauma, mind the content warnings, Darragh has my heart.

Tumblr recs

@monstersandmaw - Gabe and Odessa, complete, full novel. I cannot tell you how many times I've read this story. It's a comfort read okay. Slow burn. Odessa, lawyer, escaping the city, moves into a small cabin in the woods and meets Gabe, a park ranger, with more to him than it seems. Just a beautiful story.

@snowkissedmonsters - Candy and the wolves. Explores poly dynamics between a wolfpack and the human waitress Candy who is their mate. Gorgeous art to accompany it too!

[darklinaforever]

It kills me how many people think that the gender of a fictional character doesn't matter.

We are in fiction, where the characters have arcs, or they embody themes. Obviously for some characters gender matters.

Michael is literally named the new heir and freaks out about becoming a new John /basically taking everything he had.

Michaela can't really have this arc... Unless we strangely learn that the laws in Scotland are extremely different from England located in the Bridgerton universe (and I speak for the universe of the series, where we have no idea if they will stick to reality where women in Scotland could inherit), and I doubt it for the moment.

So no, Michaela couldn't necessarily have the same arc as Michael.

I'm not even sure she could be a Merry Rake. Can a woman be called Rake in show Bridgerton universe ?

The fact is that Michaela will necessarily differ at certain times from Michael.

Already there are always drastic differences between the show and the book, this time I think it will be even more emphasized. (I even doubt that we will have as many nods to the book as season 3 dedicated to Polin's story did)

In any case, the very basis of Francesca's story is that despite the loss of true love you can always have a second chance, which is a clear originality compared to the other romances in this series of books ; well, is already changed with the way the end of season 3 happened.

It seems that the marriage to John was a mistake, that the physical aspect of their relationship will not prove pleasant in view of the Fran's reaction to their kiss, and worse, that Fran doesn't feel true love for John.

True love in Bridgerton often results in great passion and similarities to the story of Edmund and Violet, and Francesca literally matches Violet's reaction when she first met Edmund, but this time when she meets Michaela.

Whereas Fran is never supposed to have this kind of reaction around Michael / Michaela as long as John is alive. Because she normaly truly loves him.

So how could the story be the same after such a change to the very heart of the story ?

It's not just the gender change from Michael to Michaela that makes the adaptation of When he was Wicked complicated and uncertain for some viewers, including me too, it is above all a whole.

But for some obscure reason people refuse to accept it.

Beyond that, I repeat, Michael Stirling is a fictional male character who has been around for years.

That people are disappointed, including me, not to see this character, as he is basically on paper, be adapted to the screen is not necessarily homophobic, assumed or internalized.

Yes, some are, but not everyone. Some of us are part of the LGBTQ+ community and no, we do not all suffer from internalized homophobia so as not to 100% validate such a change !

We're talking about an attachment to an image that we have formed in our mind about a FICTITIOUS character for fucking years !

Besides, I didn't even say that I was fundamentally against it, because I have already explained several times that a part of me was happy to see a main romance between two women on screen in the television universe for Bridgerton (and the actresses are magnificent and on top of that, I'm sure, will have very good chemistry). Once again, representation is always cool, but, is this really the right place to do it ? I'm not so sure.

And contrary to what some say, I'm not saying that LGBTQ+ relationships should systematically be secondary in fiction. No way. I'm simply saying that transforming one of the main canon ships of the books without which the Netflix adaptation would not exist is perhaps not the right thing to do, since there is already a community attached behind these characters...

And seriously, if the creators really wanted a main LGBTQ+ romance dealing with the Bridgerton universe, they could easily make a spin off dealing specifically with this part of society and how they live.

I'm sure many, including me, will watch such a spin-off ! And damn I would love for something like that to happen !

You see, the opportunity to have an LGBTQ+ romance at the forefront without changing the kind of characters mostly beloved by an audience that already exists. Not very complicated though.

Do you realize how inappropriate it is to insult someone homophobic for that things ?! I don't know what kind of fucking bubble these people live in...

And it's scary to say that you can be insulted by a community of which you are a part, simply for not conforming to everything that is judged 100% morally correct for them.

If you have the misfortune of delay, sometimes there are those who unleash themselves on you to insult you for things that you don't have, simply for a fictional character...

"You don't 100% validate that a fictional male character who has existed for years and whom you have loved for years, with a fairly precise image in mind as a result, becomes a woman in his adaptation ? Well obviously, it's is that you are, at worst, a homophobe, or at least worse an internalized homophobe, and in any case that is not tolerable and you are not a true ally and you are problematic who deserves to be hated."

I don't know if you realize how STUNNING this is ! There really are people on this app who need to get fucking treatment...

And anyway why am I racking my brains ?

There will always be stupid people to come and tell me that what I say is always homophobic because if I have a problem with the change of gender of a fictional character through an adaptation well I'm the real problem.

As they say, you can't change idiots.

So stay stupid if you want, but at least leave me alone.

[bbsantc]

my favorite bts fics so far (hyung!line)

hello lovely readers, i hope all of you are doing great. i've been wanting to make this post for a while now. i really want to share the amazing work and talent that many authors have on this app. as a literature fan and hopeless romantic myself, i made sure to pick out all the fics that i think are beautiful and amazing :)

disclaimers!!!!:

some of these fics contain nsfw content (minors dni), or some heavy themes, i am yoongi biased so excuse me if the fic ratio compared to the other members is waaayy bigger (like by a lot i am so so sorry), also this post is insanely long heh (once again, i am so so sorry :p), all pictures are from pinterest!

fluff- ♾️

angst- Ω

smut- ☻

crack/humor- ☼

i would sell my liver to read this again for the first time- ¶

Kim Seokjin

Turn Back Time- @raplinesmoon ♾️☼Ω☻

''pairing: baseball player!Seokjin x doctor!reader (based on the movie 13 Going On 30) genres/au/rating: fluff, humour, angst, smut, time travel au, 18+ summary: After total humiliation at his middle school baseball try outs, Kim Seokjin wants nothing more than for his awkward years to fade away until he’s thirty. Cue a magic baseball glove, and his wish is finally granted. Seokjin suddenly wakes up seventeen years later, now the star pitcher of the team he’d always dreamed of playing for. Confused and overwhelmed at the prospect of the new life waiting for him, he turns to the only person who seems to understand him — you. Will Seokjin learn what it truly means to be thirty, flirty, and thriving? Or will he find himself wishing he could turn back time?''

Every Year- @another-army-spot ♾️Ω☻

''Pairing: Jin x Reader, some implied Yoongi x reader and Namjoon x reader

Word: 15.6K

Genre: friends-to-lovers!au, richkids!au, chef!Jin, bookworm!oc, hard fluff, smut angst?

Summary:  As the daughter of the Kim’s closest friends, you’ve attended their extravagant annual New Year’s party since the year you were born.  No matter what you always spend time with your favorite childhood friend, Jin, who has always been there for you.  Here are the highlights of you and Jin realizing just how important you two are to each other.''

Let's get married as a joke- @burningupp Ω♾️

''Genre: angst, fluff

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x reader

Wordcount: 8210 (I’m so sorry)

Summary: Your best friend Jin has always had a talent of getting you into trouble. Maybe that’s why you’re not surprised that he asks you to marry him as a joke - or that you agree.''

friends get married all the time- @hobipost♾️

''The silly promise you made ten years ago comes back to bite your asses, and you’re both too weak to pretend it never happened

pairing: seokjin x f. reader

genres/tropes: friends to lovers, fluff

words: 2k+''

Min Yoongi

series:

The Truth Between Us- @jimlingss @gukyi ♾️Ω ☼ ¶

“⇒ summary: a book deal should be the most exciting time of your life, but there seems to be a constant and omnipresent damper on your mood in the form of a certain min yoongi, who you would just cut out from your life, if he weren’t your editor. but then, the world shifts beneath your feet, and you begin to wonder if maybe you’ve always been looking at life from the wrong angle.

⇒ enemies to lovers au with various other au’s thrown in there

⇒ word count: 14k (first chapter)

⇒ genre: fluff, angst, drama”

Dating advice- @taleasnewastime ♾️Ω☻

''Summary: It’s been months – ok, it’s been years – since you last went on a date. And you’re sick of it. Sick of seeing couples kissing and holding hands in the street. Sick of your friends settling down. Sick of everyone buying houses and having families. You’re going to do something about it. You’re going to snap up a man, you’re going to tie someone down, you’re going to finally commit, you’re going to – you’re going to need a bit of advice.

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: fluff; angst; smut

Word count: 54k

Status: Complete''

unexpected lovers- @jjkeverlast ♾️Ω☻

''-> pairing artist!yoongi x female reader

-> genre fake dating!au, romantic comedy

-> summary what happens when you meet min yoongi at the club, or well accidentally use him as your pawn to not get hit on. not knowing your cousins friend overhears and suddenly your whole family knows.

-> word count 19.8k''

Only Yesterday- @borathae ♾️☻Ω ¶

'' “Your life in a small countryside village was nothing of the extraordinary, you owned a quaint little teashop, enjoyed warm evenings in your garden and liked taking walks by the river. One day a handsome stranger moves in the abandoned cottage opposite side of the river and it is not long that he becomes a source of comfort in your life.”

Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: s2l!AU, Neighbours!AU, Teashop!AU, Slice of Life!AU, Romance, Fluff, Smut

Warnings: This is a very feel good story, meant to comfort the soul and warm the heart. However it contains talks about car accidents and memory loss, as well as sexually explicit scenes. If you are sensitive to such topics I advise you read with care. 

Wordcount: 78.620''

Signed in Black- @yoon-kooks♾️☻

''Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Soulmate!AU, BadBoy!AU, FLUFF, Smut [in future chapters]

Summary: Min Yoongi. That was the name magically tattooed to your skin. You were told he was your lover by fate. And as cute as it would be to have a soulmate, Yoongi was the last person you ever wanted to be bound to. But thankfully, there was a way to remove the tattoo. All you had to do was convince six Bulletproof Fairies that the two of you were in love.

Word Count: 3.3k'' (first chapter)

neon signs- @pantoneyoongi ♾️¶

''title ; neon signs [ drabble series ]  pairing ; campus crush!yoongi x campus crush!you 

description ; namjoon doesn’t think it can get any clearer outside of yoongi building a giant neon sign saying i have the absolute biggest crush on you but apparently, book smarts don’t exactly translate when it comes to you and your massive crush on min yoongi.

(alternatively: namjoon and hoseok try for three years straight to get you and yoongi together.)''

Reflection of You- @agustdakasuga ♾️Ω ¶

''Genre: Historical!AU, Timetraveller!AU/ Different Dimension, Romance

Pairing: SUGA x Reader, Yoongi x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Idol!Suga, King!Yoongi, Guard!Seokjin, Guard!Jungkook, RoyalAdvisor!Namjoon, Servant!Jimin, Servant!Hoseok, Prince!Taehyung

Summary: Confirming you were dating the famous Min Suga of BTS, you knew you were bound to make some enemies. But what you didn’t expect was to be cursed, leading you to meet a cold-hearted, arrogant king that shares the same face as your rapper lover. ''

your universe- @muniimyg ♾️☻Ω ☼

''in which min yoongi refuses to lose you

+ 

regretting rejecting oc, min yoongi goes through a circus load of gestures and tasks in attempt to be loved again

pairings:

basketball captain // tsundere yoongi + sunshine // preschool edu major oc

au/genre:

friends to lovers 

uni au

one sided pining / rejection / redemption / a sad excuse of a slow burn

smut, crack, angst

social media au + written

warnings:

implied + actual smut

angst (oc is heartbroken and trying to move on from being initially rejected)

name calling, love/hate friendships, big egos, overprotective friends, childish social culture, and a burnt out era &lt;;3 

parts:

ongoing ( ongoing/25 )''

andante cantabile- @kkulfm-2 ♾️☻¶

''pairing: myg x f!reader

genre: historical / regency au, fluff, smut

wc: 30.6k + 3.8k smutty bonus

summary: You are convinced Mr. Min is nothing but a rude and gloomy man after he leaves a horrible first impression on you. His friends' attempts to convince you otherwise are met with mixed success.''

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

oneshots:

Man of The Year- @raplinesmoon ♾️¶

''pairing: single dad!Yoongi x gn!reader genre(s): pure fluff, very minor angst au(s): graduation au word count: 2.7k warnings: some swearing, Yoongi is a little nervous, Yoongi is bad at flirting, this is so cute I could cry

rating: PG

summary: For the longest time, it’s always been Yoongi and his daughter, celebrating every milestone of life together. But today, that could change.''

Shut Eye- @alpacaparkaseok ♾️

''pairing/genre: idol!Yoongi x reader, fluff

premise: In a world where every night you meet your soulmate in your dreams only to forget their face and voice when you wake up, you’re now more desperate than ever to find them.

word count: 2.6k''

gold- @aquagustd Ω♾️☻

''↣ you’re in love with Min Yoongi, yes, you are, but why do you keep thinking of the boy who broke your heart into a million pieces when you should be focusing on the one who’s mending it.

pairing: yoongi x reader (past jungkook x reader)

genre: angst, fluff, smut, bff2l

word count: 17K''

stood up. -@parkdatjimin Ω☻♾️

''Three years after dumping your toxic boyfriend, you decide it's finally time to try the dating scene again. What you don't expect is for a handsome and confident CEO to come to your rescue after being stood up.

"Just play along. My name is Yoongi and whoever stood you up is a douche."

Pairings: CEO!yoongi x fem!reader

Genre: HEAVY angst, smut, lil fluff, slice of life, mutual pining, non-idol!au''

First-Date BAIT!- @jimlingss ♾️

''Words: 11.3k

Genre: Fluff

First dates are embarrassing. First dates are awkward. I’ve been through countless ones, sitting across from people who bored the living daylights out of me. It was less exciting than watching paint dry. Some dates were so utterly rude - I think you and I both know what it’s like to be on the receiving end on that. But now we both don’t have to waste our time anymore!

With First Date Bait they went out for me! Afterwards, they informed me if it was recommended to go out on a second date. It’s amazing with a 99.99% accuracy rate! That’s how I ended up meeting my husband!

First Date Bait. Why waste your time with awkward first dates?''

DreamCatcher- @jimlingss ♾️Ω

''Words: 13k (oops)

Genre: Fluff & Angst

Summary: When your dreams are more or less nightmares, monsters inside your head that eat you alive, it seems like the only person who can help you is Min Yoongi, professional dream chaser.''

Purr-haps I like you- @taleasnewastime ♾️

''Summary: You have a no pets policy where you live, but when you find a tiny kitten in a box on the side of the road, what can you do but bring it home with you? The only problem? The landlord who made the no pets rule, also happens to be your flatmate.

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: pure fluff; Flatmates au

Word count: 11.6k''

Wild Strawberries- @yoonia ♾️☻

''➤ Character / Genre: Min Yoongi x reader/female OC (told through Yoongi’s POV) | Lucid Dream!au, fluff, smut''

first love- @jungnoir Ω♾️

''⇢ summary:  yoongi meets you, seated next to him at a familiar brown piano, and he steals you away hours before your wedding day, seated next to him at a familiar brown piano + yoongi’s been in love with you since childhood and he only has the courage to tell you when you’re about to marry someone else.

⇢ relationship: min yoongi/reader.

⇢ genre: best friend!au, angst, romance. 

⇢ words: 5.6k''

strike a chord- @snackhobi ♾️☻¶

''pairing: yoongi x reader // word count: 15.8k // genre: smut

summary: your idea of a good night certainly doesn't involve being stood up by yet another blind date and finding yourself alone in a fancy bar; fortunately for you, there's an attractive man playing the piano to keep you busy, instead.''

Anyone But The Groom- @yoonjinkooked ♾️Ω☻

''❅ Summary: After a meet-cute that brings all the romcoms to shame, you realize that for once in your life, the stars have finally aligned and presented you a guy that might be able to make you believe in love at first sight. Only to find out that you’re in charge of planning his Christmas Eve Wedding.

❅ Pairing: Yoongi x female reader

❅ AU: Wedding Planner reader x Arranged Marriage groom Yoongi

❅ Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, will-they-won’t-they type of relationship

❅ Word Count: 36.5k (I AM SO SORRY)''

Not Even a Mouse- @softyoongiionly ♾️☻¶

''Summary:  The week before Christmas, you are tasked with delivering some paperwork to your father’s former business partner in order to secure your ownership of their legendary toy store. However, things don’t go as planned and a sudden blizzard keeps you cooped up inside the tiniest town you’ve ever seen, Snow Falls. You keep telling yourself that it’s the weather that’s keeping you here, but after a visit to Min’s Mini Mart, you aren’t so sure anymore…

Pairing: Single Dad! Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Romance, FLUFF, Smut (18+ only please)''

All I Want for Christmas (ft. Yoongi)- @hayjeon ♾️Ω

''→ singledad, CEO!yoongi x secretary!reader→ 13k words''

ceo!yoongi- @jungshookz ♾️☻☼ ¶

''→ pairing: min yoongi x reader 

→ genre: ceo!au, clumsy!y/n because that’s always nice, jimin is ur best friend, floofy fluff, a touch of nsfw aka office sex

→ wordcount: 21k+ so u should probably read this using ur laptop and not ur phone''

first love | myg- @lavienjin ☻Ω

''synopsis: After an incredibly long day, Yoongi found you crying in the copy room. Though he doesn’t talk much, you’ve always found his presence comforting, and it didn’t surprise you when he stayed and listen to you vent. However, while you sought comfort in his embrace, he proposed a special offer to reduce your stress with the magic of his hands. The only catch to your arrangement? You couldn’t fall in love.

But wouldn’t you know it, just as your friendship deepens into something more, you find an old notebook sitting on his bookshelf, and in it, a collection of poems. The last entry has you reeling because it’s addressed to you. And in that page, a single line is written: Without you, I am nothing

pairing: yoongi x reader

wc: 11.3k

genre/rating/au: 18+ | fwb, coworkers, f2l au | smut, angst

warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, semi public sex, multiple smut scenes, multiple orgasms, oral (m. & f. receiving), masturbation, exhibition, lots of feelings. like a lot of feelings :(''

A Boy Like You | Yoongi- @cinnaminsvga ♾️¶

''→ summary: for whenever you are feeling low, always remember that there is a boy you know who would lift the sky for you.

{or alternatively: Min Yoongi loves you, though he never says it. He’s always been a firm believer in that actions speak louder than any words ever could.}

→ genre: coworker!au, f2l, fluff''

when the stars align- @itskimtaehyung ♾️Ω

''Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: FakeDating!AU with a hint of roommates (well actually more like apartment-mates but roommates is catchier), College!AU, fluff, angst

Word count: 10.5k

Content/Warnings: Mentions of heavy drinking, drug usage, strong language, but also cute things like adopting a dog together

Summary: With cuffing season approaching its end, you thought you had escaped the pressures of finding a boyfriend for the holidays. That is, until your friends set you up on a blind date that goes horribly wrong. This prompts you to enlist the help of your roommate, Yoongi, to fake a relationship so your friends will stop meddling in your love life. And it turns out Yoongi is a lot better at this romance thing than you originally thought…''

p.o.v | myg- @jtrbluv ♾️Ω

''summary: you were eight when you first met your soulmate. then you were eighteen when you realized that the boy who just got hired at the local record store next door, is also your soulmate. the issue at hand: you are the only one that knows.

pairing: yoongi x reader (fem)

genre: fluff, angst, soulmate!au, redstringoffate!au, college!au, high school!au

word count: 17.9k''

Yoongi is a Rock- @yoongsisbae ♾️Ω ¶

''rock!Yoongi x reader :D fluff a bit of angst a lot of silliness

Word Count 1.3k''

android!yoongi- @jungshookz♾️Ω☻☼ ¶

''→ pairing: min yoongi x reader

→ genre: android!au becauSe for some reason android aus are popping up everywhere, the usual heaping serving of fluff and comedy, N S F W like reALLY nsfw i poPPED OFF this time i don’t know even know what happened,,, forgive me god for i have sinned, a n g s t, i definitely teared up a little writing this because i was listening to kim bum soo’s i miss you and it made me 100x more emo

→ trigger warnings: this does get a little intense! beware!! 

→ wordcount: 24k like that bruno mars song''

you’re so concerned about the ending that you don’t even know the plot- @joonsgalaxy ♾️☼

''° yoongi x reader x taehyung

° 1.9 k words ° fluff/humour

🌟 you bring your broken laptop to Tae—the IT specialist—who you have a crush on. you drag your bff Yoongi along with you, who—you’re certain—has a crush on Tae too. what a mess, right? well, the thing is, you never even considered the possibility of your assumptions being totally wrong.''

better place- @cupofteaguk ♾️

''summary: you might be in love with childhood best friend Min Yoongi, and he might be in love with you—and everyone seems to know it. except for the two of you.

pairing: yoongi x fem!reader

genre: hogwarts au, friends to lovers au | fluff

warnings: slow burn, alcohol consumption, truly lowkey an idiots to lovers au word count: 14k''

something to hold on to- @fantasybangtan ♾️Ω ¶

''❦ word count. 17.7k ❦ genre. parent fic, fluff, angst, a bit of boob action ❦ warnings. illness, mention of hospitalisation, mention of minor character death, yoongi is kind of a dick sometimes, accidental(?) flashing ❦ summary. it’s not that you don’t like your job. on the contrary, reading bedtime stories to a certified little princess is something you still can’t believe you get paid to do. it’s just that between all the school runs, snow days and secret second hot chocolates before bed, you may fallen a little too hard for those dimpled cheeks and gummy smiles…. worse still, you’ve fallen for her father too.''

the proposal- @dreamescapeswriting ♾️Ω☻

''WORD COUNT: 35K (No its not missing a decimal point)

PAIRING: CEO!Yoongi x Assistant!Reader

GENRE: Smut, enemies to lovers, CEO x Assistant, fake marriage, angst, movie inspired, slow burn''

basketballcaptain!yoongi- @jungshookz ♾️☻☼ ¶

''→ pairing: min yoongi x reader

→ genre: basketball captain x water girl, cheesy cheesy stuff, the FLUFFIEST fluff, jungoo is an idiot, humour, nSFW = smut, cocky yoongi, spoiler alert yoongi does a body shot off of u it just be like that sometimes

→ wordcount: 18.4k this will definitely make the app crash as per usual don’t come for me''

Hug-o-gram- @cinnaminsvga ♾️☼ ¶

''→ summary: 

“This is probably the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” Yoongi hisses, but it’s kind of hard for Seokjin to take him seriously when he’s wearing a cardboard sign around his neck that says ‘Huggie Wuggie Machine!’ in bubble font. 

“Like, even worse than when we DIY’d your car into a convertible by sawing the top off?” Seokjin asks, genuinely curious. 

“Worse,” Yoongi admits, trying his best to stay out of your line of sight. His cheeks redden, matching the gaudy pink kitten ears he was forced into wearing.

{or alternatively: Seokjin is a terrible wingman. He also runs a profitable business by sending hugs to people’s crushes for a fee. Mix them together and you have a recipe for Min Yoongi’s worst nightmare.}

→ genre: college!au, hugging booth!au,fluff, humor → warnings: yoongi is so smitten that he’s a walking disaster, so much shy!yoongi to the point where you’ll want to scream, seokjin just tryna get his homie some y/n love coochie bro ;o; → words: 13.3K''

I Wanna Hold Your Hand- @minisugakoobies ♾️

''Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, fluff, Roommates!AU

Rating: T

Warnings: pining, a lil’ smooching, Yoongi is very persuasive, reader is easily duped, it’s as fluffy as freshly fallen snow

Word Count: 1.4K

Disclaimers: None, other than obviously I don’t own BTS - they simply inspire me

Summary: It’s hand-holding season, according to your roommate.''

subtle- @joonary ♾️Ω

''↳ summary: just another memory added to the long list of drunk memories that you’ll forget but wish you’d remember, while yoongi will remember but wish he could forget. 

↳ genre: fluff; light angst; friends (?) to lovers (?); min yoongi x reader

↳ rating: pg-13

↳ warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, and yoongi’s soft spots being exposed to the light of day. yknow, just another joonary fic.

↳ word count: 3.5k''

Hobi's Girl- @jjungkookislife Ω☻

''↬ pairing: f. reader x Hoseok, f. reader x Yoongi

↬ genre: smut [18+], angst

↬ summary: Yoongi had a wonderful night with you… but you’re Hobi’s girl.

↬ wc: 4.8k''

The King Isn’t Dead- @another-army-spot ♾️Ω☻

''Pairing: Yoongi x oc (fem)

Rating:  M

Word: 19.7k~ (my finger slipped?)

Genre:  historical fic, smut, romance, fluff, angst, political upheaval shit

Summary:  After the invasion and the King’s miraculous survival, the nation aims to secure stability and his position of power through the prospect of marriage and continuing the Min line.  As a promise to your brother on the battlefield, the King promises to consider you as his potential wife - to love and to protect.  Or maybe it’ll be the other way around?''

the landlord- @ppersonna ☻

''↳ summary- your air conditioner breaks right at the height of a recordbreaking heat wave.  good thing your hot landlord, yoongi, knows how to attend to any needs you may have.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 4.3k

↳ pairing- yoongi x reader

↳ genre- smut, light crack, PWP''

CYBERSEX- @gimmethatagustd ♾️☻☼

''The whole point of being a phone sex hotline operator is that you’ll never have to meet your clients. So what are you supposed to do when you find out your favorite client is your brother’s best friend? 

» pairing: yoongi x fem!reader 

» wc/date: 14.6k | July 2022

» genre: BTS | 18+ | brother’s best friend | smut | fluff | humor

» warnings: alcohol | blowjob | car sex | creampie | dirty talk | fingering | masturbation | pet names | phone sex | pussy slapping | sex work | unprotected vaginal sex''

Jung Hoseok

hot rod- @kinktae ♾️☻

''a 1950′s inspired fic where greaser Hoseok can’t keep his eyes, or hands, off the new waitress at his and his boys’ favorite diner.

pairing: greaser!hoseok x reader

word count: 10k

genre: 1950s au, smut, fluff''

Kim Namjoon

The Bodyguard- @rmnamjoons ♾️☻Ω

''➳ summary: You’re the daughter of the ambassador to a small, peaceful, barely-on-the-map country in Western Europe, working as a diplomat to help your mother with her endless meetings and politics. After a kidnapping attempt gone wrong, you and your protective bodyguard Namjoon are on the run across Europe, jumping from trains, stealing cars, and pretending to be a couple on your honeymoon to stay hidden. As the would-be kidnappers close in, Namjoon promises you that he’s going to keep you safe, no matter the cost.

➳ pairing: bodyguard!Namjoon x reader

➳ genre: bodyguard au, romance, smut, fake dating/fake marriage, road trip (kinda), very slight angst

➳ word count: 62.9k – this is a complete, VERY long oneshot''

Show Me How- @imaginationofacrazyfangirl ☻ ¶

''Summary:You swiped right on a nerd, instead you got a Greek God. Or tired of your virginity, you decide to throw caution to the wind and find a hook up on tinder.

— PAIRING: Namjoon x f!reader

— GENRE: smut. 18+ minors dni.''

I'll continue in a pt.2

(tumblr doesn't let me write more lmao)

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

hello! can you recommend some feel-good and no drama vibes BL series? 😭 been a stressful month, badly need a relaxing series 🫠 thankyouu!

Hello beautiful Anon 🌹

It is a pleasure for me to recommend you some feel-good series! It is not that easy to find series without drama, because people think a series without drama is not a good series, but sometimes we all need this swoony, relaxing series to calm our system and to let us believe in life and love again.

I tried to keep the drama level as low as possible, but most of them have a little bit of drama at some point, just to keep the story going.

My main criteria were personal experience and feelings while watching and rewatching those series and how many trigger-warnings there should be (like violence, prosperity, cheating, mobbing, etc.) - in the best case, there should be none and how heavy the topic is. For example: I absolutely adore the series "The Day I Loved You". It is such a beautiful, wholesome series, but the topic is so heavy, it wouldn't fit here.

The only order this will have is by country.

Thailand

Well let's get started with one of the most unproblematic and innocent, happy series out there:

My School President

Tinn likes Gun. Gun is a little rascal and the singer of the school's band Chinzhilla. Tinn is the school president and son of the principle. Chinzhilla needs to build up their reputation and win this year's Hot Wave Music Contest to make sure the band will still be around next year and to be able to date. And now it's Tinn's time to shine and help Gun reach this goal. It is such an unproblematic, fun and sweet watch.

Cherry Magic Thailand

Karan is the model employee. He is everything Achi wants to be. Achi's confidence is weak and the things he does, he doesn't see them as valuable or important. But somehow he is exactly what Karan wants, because he is kind and attentive. A story about self-acceptance, loving yourself and seeing your valuable traits through the eyes of someone else. And hearing other people's thoughts might help as well. I love the story and yes, Japan's version is gem, but I really like the thai one and TayNew did such a good job, imo.

We Are

People said nothing is happening here. But that is not true. The story might not be drama-driven, but that is exactly what I sometimes want. I want to watch friend groups coming together, sharing secrets with each other and fall in love. I want to see this daily life. The story is wholesome and cute and perfect for a rainy sunday to warm up your heart.

Ingredients

This miniseries is a slow burn between two roommates, one loves cooking and the other one music. And they are just the sweetest. I watched this while I was sick and it made my life so much warmer and less tiring and annoying. Jeff and Gameplay did such a good job in portraying these two characters.

Bonus:

Every You, Every Me

This series is not completed and is airing every sunday. There are only two episodes out and I am completely in love with them and the concept of this series. Every week we see those two fall in love again in different timelines. The story about soulmates and the fate to be together in every universe. My romantic heart can't deal with it! It is exactly what I need after a stressful week.

Taiwan

Well Taiwan is more known for heavier themes and emotional series with a lot of trauma included, but there are some lighthearted series too.

Be Loved In House: I Do

I have no clue how many times I watched this series. Is it that good? Well, for me it is one of the most comforting series out there. For others? Not necessarily. The conflict is a little bit dumb, but it is so good to watch these two to slowly overcome their differences and getting all soft with each other. It is just a sweet series where you don't have to think too much about.

History 2: Crossing The Line

The story of a young troublemaker who likes to pick fights and the manager of the school's volleyball-team, who can't play volleyball anymore because of an accident. I mean, I love volleyball and bl, so this is the perfect combination for me. It is funny and somehow emotional and so good to witness the troublemaker finally having something worth to put his energy in.

South Korea

I absolutely love korean bls. They are my favorite, but most of them come with huge baggage and trauma for the main characters. As much as I love them, I wouldn't call them easy watches to relax. But there are a few I want to mention here.

Our Dating Sim

A second-chance love story. They meet again after being separated for years and finally are able to talk to each other about everything that stands between them. And yes, there is some light trauma, but it fits the story very well and isn't that traumatic for the viewer, imo. As a given for korean bls, it is a short watch and perfect to binge after a tough day.

Roommates of Poongduck 304

A fun and short watch about a rich kid who has to work for the first time in his live to understand the value of money and work and his new landlord who is also his subordinate at work. These two need to work together in every parts of their lifes and it is just so good to watch them getting closer. And don't get me started on their chemistry! If you haven't already, do yourself a favor and watch the behind the scenes!

Sing My Crush

Han Baram wants to become a professional musician. He has the talent and the will to achieve it, but most of all he has Im Hantae, his biggest fan and supporter and his best friend. While Baram already knows what he wants, Hantae needs to figure it out in the cutest way. This series just feels so good! It is one of my favorite bls ever. And the music is good too!

Japan

Japan is the king or queen for cosy and wholesome bls! There are so many, I can't list all of them. I really enjoy diving into this yellowish warm world.

I Cannot Reach You aka Kimi ni wa Todokanai

While Yamato has to deal with his popularity with the girls and being in love with his best friend Kakeru, Kakeru really wants to be as cool as his schoolmates and wants to get a girlfriend too, just to notice, that his heart obviously wants something or someone else. This is such a sweet series. It is wholesome and so freaking soft! And the soundtrack is soooooooooooo good!

Takara's Treasure aka Takara No Vidro

Takara once helped Taichin and with that he influenced his life deeply. In the beginning I didn't understand this series and the actions the characters took, but with every episode this little series grew more and more on me. Both of them are searching for something in their lifes and find it in each other. They are the perfect match and watching their connection deepen will comfort your heart.

If It's With You aka Kimi To Nara Koi Wo Shite Mite Mo

I think this series is highly underrated and didn't get the recognition it deserves. The main character Amane is gay and doesn't keep it a secret. He has made some bad experience in the past and doesn't believe in love anymore. Until he meets his schoolmate Ryuji, a kind and hardworking young man, who is so open and accepting that Amane is not able to not fall in love with him. This is such a beautiful series. Highly recommended.

Our Dining Table aka Bokura no Shokutaku

This is an absolutely wholesome series about found family and food. Be aware watching this might make you very hungry! Tane, the younger brother, is such a sweet child and the best wingman. The drama in this series is not the prominent aspect of it, but the healing from it through love in all kinds and forms, acceptance and finding a place for yourself in this cold world is. And after watching this you feel loved and warm and hungry.

Old Fashion Cupcake

A well played age-gap? Finding joy in life? Food? Living your life in the best way possible? Check, check, check and check. This series means so much to me. Meet Nozue, almost 40 without any real joy in life, because he thinks he is too old for it and Togawa, ten years younger, attractive and obsessed with the idea to make Nozue enjoy his life again. And that with eating together. I love this series so much! It is so good!

Honorable mentions:

Fukou-kun was Kiss Suru Shikanai!

Takara-kun to Amagi-kun

Aki wa Haru to Gohan wo Tabetai

BL Drama no Shuen ni Narimashita: Crank Up Hen

Perfect Propose

Living with him

Kieta Hatsukoi

Anon, I hope there are some series which can give you some relaxation after such a stressful month! And I wish you more quiet and less stressful month to come! Stay safe and enjoy watching bls! 🌼

[writers-hes]

Eye of the Storm

SERIES SUMMARY: You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn't realize that war could change you both. (angst, depictions of abuse, poverty, prostitution, canon-typical themes, death, war, time jumps)

Chapter summary: Everything unfolds and you were the eye of the storm.

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3

PROTECTION SERIES TAGLIST | PROTECTION MASTERLIST navigation

LONDON, 1919

Something clicked in Simon after Johnny’s funeral. He restricted you more than he did before. He was more forceful sometimes. You knew, because you braced yourself to face it everyday. 1…2…3…4…5… You had to count to ten every time he got mad. How many seconds will it take for him to lay his hand on you again? 

“From now on, you can’t come to the garden without asking for my permission.” When he saw your mouth open to protest, he added, “Don’t push it. You’re lucky I’m still allowing you to go.”

“O-of course, Simon,” you tearfully obliged. “I— “

“Tell me you love me.”

“I love you.”

“Good. Now, come here, darling. You know I can’t stand when you’re mad at me,” he coos and you oblige, finding yourself perched on his lap. You hated this; hated how he was treating you. Hated how his arms immediately wrapped around you. “I know that you’re mad at me,” he starts. “Especially with everything that’s been going on but I’m only worried that Tommy Shelby’s gonna take you.” 

“He’s not…you don’t have to worry about him, Simon,” you whispered. “I didn’t know that he was alive,”

“I know, I know,” he said. “But do you know where that puts me? You’ve been his friend since before the war and I’m not anything like him. It’s not you I don’t trust…it’s him. He’s a Birmingham rat with no respect. I want you safe. I want you here. If you behave yourself, then I’d slowly give you everything back. Hm?” he asked. 

You nodded, the small smile on your face could never convey how cold you felt.

Simon knows that what he’s doing is wrong but what else can be done? Tommy Shelby was back and there was no way he’s giving you up to some Birmingham gangster. It was just impossible to do so. It would hurt him and his ego. He’s never been declined of something before as an only child of two rich parents. If he’d be declined of your love and affection, he will burn the world and everything in it. You were the only thing he truly wanted and if it came to you, he’d do everything to never let you out of his grasp.

When he first seeked you out, you were eighteen. He was already enamoured, watching you from afar. You laughed with the girls and stayed with Big Johnny most nights. You were innocent, a fragile little thing that he wanted—needed. You listened to him and even treated him as a friend. It was different from how the girls treated him there. The girls would ask for gifts, and he bought them but you…you dressed up immediately after every visit. You’d smile at him before leaving, going to Johnny for your nightly lessons. He sometimes went to visit you just to talk. You were the most intelligent girl there and he always looked forward to seeing you again. If you slip away from his grasp, he wouldn’t know what to do. It’s why he bought you that house; why he gave you jewellery even before you were married. He wanted you to be reminded of him everywhere you went. It was dangerous dealing with your past—he knew that; but danger was something he’d walk on if it came to having you.  

“Darling, I was thinking…it’s been a while since we last went on a holiday. Do you want to go somewhere?” he asked. Reports of Tommy Shelby in London reached him. There was no way he’d let you meet again.

“Hm,” you hummed. “Can we go to New York?” you asked. “I’ve been wanting to go to Manhattan this time of year.”

“Yeah?” he asked. The farther you were from Tommy, the better. “Then, I’ll have things arranged and I’ll let you know, okay?” he kisses your temple as he passes by.

“Of course,” you replied. Your face seems so unreadable these days, but it always was. Can Tommy Shelby decipher the emotions written on your face or does he have to guess too? He knows that you were still keeping things away from him…knows that you’re not being fully honest with how you feel and who Tommy Shelby was in your life. He was fine not knowing as long as you were his. 

Irrevocably and utterly his. 

BIRMINGHAM, 1910

“You know, Tommy,” you said. “When I was young, my mother told me that there were other lands outside England…outside Birmingham that isn’t London,” you said. Your savings could take you to London, but you could never seem to find the time. Simon has been visiting you more and the owner of the brothel ordered you to always be available for him because of how much he spends on you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I want to go to London at least once. Before I die, I want to go to London,” 

“I’ll take you to London,” he says, voice gruff from the cigarettes. “I’ll take you to London and I’ll take you to the whole world,” 

“You will?” you asked. You were always told by your customers that they’ll take you here and there…but with Tommy, you knew that what he was saying was true. He never liked to break his promises. “If you’ll take me there, I better save up money because there’s no way I’m letting you spend a fortune on me.”

“I’ll take you to New York, Paris, and all the major cities. We’ll see them for the first time together,” he promises.

“Together?”

“We’ll always be together, won’t we?”

“Of course, we will. Together,”

BIRMINGHAM, 1919

Grace has long been gone since Polly revealed the truth to her. Was it mad that Tommy didn’t feel any morsel of anything? He didn’t care if she betrayed him; didn’t care if she loved him…if anything, she was better off gone. It just…unsettled him. Was that the right word? He never liked Grace, but she was a good enough replacement for you in the meantime. She was good enough, but she wasn’t you, no matter how much Tommy forced himself to convince everyone that she was good enough. 

He didn’t even think of lighting a cigarette for her departure. These guns, Billy Kimber…his ambitions of wealth, power, and control were too consuming for him to think of anything else. Too consuming that he knew that all ambition all boiled down to you, that mansion, horses, and a garden. He looks at the toy horses you’ve given him as children. It’s been showing signs of wear; time has the power to tear the edges of something precious so easily. Tommy liked thumbing the wooden toy to keep him afloat sometimes. It reminded him of peace, of home, of you. 

“Tommy,” Polly called. Her conscience has been nagging her, steaming out of pores ever since Tommy showed her how much you meant to him. It was never easy remembering Tommy on the floor, so weak; so defeated. It was never easy to remember that she was the reason why Tommy was miserable. She took you away from him. She decided then, that she’d do everything in her power to help her grieving nephew. If your presence could show her any semblance of Tommy before the war, she’d take it. Maybe she should feel bad for burdening you with that weight on your shoulders, but she knew that you did it so naturally…so genuinely. She relieves herself of thinking that you and Tommy needed each other; so much so that the world she knows now will simply reintegrate. You were the glue that binds Tommy; the melted gold that holds the pieces back together. Without you, Tommy was broken—alone. She’d never want that for him. She’ll never want to see him like that again. 

NEW YORK, 1920

When you told Simon that you wanted to go to New York, you didn’t know that you’ll be staying there indefinitely. You just said that to appease him, really. He made sure that all of your belongings were kept and taken to America. What didn’t fit, you’d buy. He was more lenient here. He’d let you go, and he was back to the Simon you’ve always known. 

“You’ve been married for years,” his attorney’s wife recalls. “Where are the little Simons running around?”

“Oh-“ you looked at Simon to help you out, but he was too engrossed in his conversation with the lawyer to notice. “We’re still enjoying our marriage. Just the two of us,” you lied. “We like to travel and we’ll feel bad if we just…leave the child back home,”

“But you’re in New York,” she says, like it mattered. “Surely, you’ve been trying?”

“No, not really. Simon wants our child to be born in England.” you said.

“You’re not getting any younger, dear,” she says. “When I was around your age, I already had two children. I say, it’s better to start a family early,”

That night, when you were removing your jewellery, Simon laid his hand on your shoulder. He’s gentle in New York. Your shoulder used to feel heavy in London. He started kissing your neck and you allowed him.

“An heir wouldn’t be so bad,” he rasps, nibbling on your ear. “Maybe soon…I want to have you all to myself first. Don’t want you to love me any less because of a child,”

“I wouldn’t love you any less, Simon.” you smiled at him. You didn’t want to bear his heir but if he was convinced that you’ll love him less because of a child, you’ll string him along. 

“I know but then, you’d dote on him and be all…” he drones on, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“It’s alright, I don’t need anyone else. It can just be the two of us forever.”

BIRMINGHAM, 1911

“Tommy!” you called, walking through the muddy soil of the stables that he worked in. He took care of horses sometimes, to earn some extra money. It paid well and he was surrounded with the calmness of the horses that he took care of. He vowed to have his own stables filled with his own horses in the future. Maybe it was pathetic but Tommy was envious seeing things that he wanted being taken advantage of. He knew how to take care of horses but he never owned them. His dreams were so close yet so far. He was brushing the coat of one of the horses when you came barrelling towards him.

“Tommy!” you called again. “I’m free now. Let’s go!”

“Wait, wait,” he laughs, making sure that the horse—he secretly named him Hayday because the horse had a coat in the color of hay. He only told you that though. “Alright, Hayday. Let’s get you back to your stable,” he tells the horse, petting its snout. You smiled at his softness, following them quietly. You let Tommy do his job maintaining Hayday for a while, smiling widely when you saw him coming towards you. He was rubbing his face with water to get rid of today. 

“I smell.” he frowned, looking through his ragged satchel for a towel or an extra shirt. “Let me just…” he says, taking the shirt from the bag and then giving the bag to you. He turns around to remove his dirty shirt, tucking it between his legs and then changing into the cleaner shirt. You watched the way his back muscles flexed—working as a mechanic and carrying whatever he does was paying off. The clean shirt clung onto his figure nicely…you looked away before he could catch you staring though. “Thanks for keeping my bag,” he says, taking his bag from you. He hangs it on his shoulder and then links his arm with yours. You couldn't see the smirk that played in his lips.  “Where are we going again?”

“Remember, I told you to come with me to the market to buy something?” you asked him. He nods, letting you lead the way to the market. “Well, I’m free now. Let’s go.”

Tommy tells you all about his day on the way to the market, not knowing anything of what you had planned. It was his birthday last month, but you weren’t able to save up enough money for his gift because of a repair in your home. You drag him all the way to where the more expensive shops were, Tommy’s brows furrowing. 

“Here,” you said, stopping at a jeweller. You take him inside and he lets you. 

“What are we doing here— “

“Look!” you said, pointing at the gold signet ring on display. You leave Tommy to go get the clerk. You’ve been paying for the ring for a year now; little by little until you were able to fully pay for it. It was a gift for Tommy’s 21st birthday. You were talking to the clerk for a pick up when Tommy walks to you. The clerk gives you the red velvet box and you turn to Tommy, a wide smile on your face. 

“Who is this for?” he asked, frowning. Was this for that Rich Bastard? “You know I can’t afford that,”

“But I can. It’s for you,” you told him softly. “Happy birthday. I’m sorry it was a month late,” You open the box for him. “Go on, wear it.”

“Y/N…love,”

“You have to accept it. I saved up for that, you know?” He takes the ring from the box and slides it on his ring finger. 

“Thank you…” he rasps, his throat closing up. “For this.”

“It’s okay, Tommy. I’d give you the world if I can but for now, a ring would suffice, don’t you think?”

-

You both settled at an empty grassland by the docks afterwards. Tommy couldn’t stop looking at his ring. 

“I still can’t believe you got me a ring,” he says, looking at you. “It must have cost you a fortune, eh?”

“It’s okay, Tommy. I want to give you something more for being a great friend to me.” you tell him. He nods at your words. Friends. Is that all he’ll ever be? 

“I got you this,” he says, showing you the simple, lone daisy that he picked on the way here. “I…” he says, tucking it behind your ear. I wish I could give you more. You stopped breathing, the proximity was too much to bear. You could see the blueness of his eyes, the freckles that kissed his nose and his cheeks. You could see every eyelash. It seemed like he didn’t mind it either. He was looking at you intently, trying to memorize every detail of your face. A face that could start a war, he was almost positive of it. You both unintentionally lean into each other, Tommy’s eyes flicking down to your lips, breath hitching. 

“Tommy!” you jump away from each other, looking away. Fuck. He sighs in annoyance, looking at one of the guys he knew from work. 

Maybe next time.

CAMDEN TOWN, 1921

“Put him down, Ollie!” he shouts. “Put him down, mate. He is only little.”

“You on your own?” He asked Tommy.

Tommy glances around. 

“Seems so,”

Alfie Solomons always liked to play the best games. He had wide shoulders that matched how dominant and domineering he seemed. He was unpredictable, abandoning all sorts of things just to make sure that in the end, he gets the best deal. Tommy wondered what kind of deal he could put up with the Jewish gangster to double cross Simon Coventry, his biggest payer.

“Well, you’re a brave lad, ain't you?” he asked. “Want to take a look around my bakery? We bake all sorts here, mate, yeah. Did you know we bake over 10,000 loaves a week? Can you believe it?” 

Tommy listens to him drone on about bread. He asked for brown bread and was served one. 

“Come look,” Alfie says, leading Tommy to his office. 

-

“Well, I’ve heard very bad, bad things about you Birmingham people. You’re gipsies, right? So what, do you live in a fucking tent or a caravan?”

“I came here to discuss business with you, Mr. Solomons.” Tommy coughs. 

“Well, rum is for fun and fucking. So, whiskey, now that is for business,” he says, putting his bottle of whiskey for Tommy Shelby.

“Let’s talk first, eh?” 

“Suit yourself,” Alfie shrugs. 

“Heard you were dealing with billionaires,” Tommy brought up, trying to gauge the situation. He was sitting right in front of Alfie’s desk, noticing the latter reach for the drawer in his right. 

“You heard correct. What about it?” he asked nonchalantly. 

“Simon Coventry.” Tommy said. “He pays well?”

“Very well, mate.” Alfie replied, sipping on his whiskey. “Seeked for our protection services, invested…paid to kill for him. Has a wife, you know? Have you heard about her?”

“No,” Tommy shrugged, his voice monotonous, eyes bored. Alfie licks his lips. 

“Never met her…lovely wife, they say, yeah. A very lovely wife…but this lovely wife of his needs to be guarded. Don’t believe in all that…I don’t do that to women, but this lovely wife of his is…huh, well, told me to kill anyone who comes near her, yeah? And guess what, mate? You’ve a big fucking bounty written on your fucking forehead,” Alfie revealed. “Now,” he pauses, leaning on the table. “What is this business you’re looking for?”

“We join forces,”

“Fuck off. No! Categorical. Fucking ridiculous,” he leans back, scoffing. Tommy leans forward, clasping his hand over the table. 

“Mr. Solomons. Your distillery provides one-tenth of your income. Protection is another ten percent and the rest; you make from the tracks.”

Alfie fumbles with the handle but Tommy speaks.

“I know you keep a gun in the drawer beside the whiskey. I know you offer a deal or death. I know what I’m saying makes you angry but I’m offering you a deal. People don’t trust your protection anymore. What makes you think that Simon Coventry will continue to trust you?” he asked. 

“Well, you shot Billy Kimber, right? You did, you fucking shot him. That’s you. You fucking betrayed him, mate. So, it’ll be appropriate to do what I’m thinking in my head to you right now.”

“I can offer you a hundred good men all with weapons and a new relationship with the police.” 

“Intelligence,” Alfie says. “Intelligence is a very valuable thing, ain’t it, my friend? And usually…it comes far too fucking late,” he reaches for the drawer on his left, pointing the gun at Tommy. He cocks the gun and Tommy sits there, unblinking. “Let’s say I shot you already, right? In the fucking face. And then the bullet goes bone, mush, bone, cabinet over there. Which is a shame.”

Tommy just sits there, his face devoid of any emotion. If he gets killed now, he doesn't care. He had no fear of death anymore.

“It’s fucking simple, mate,”

Blood trails down from Tommy’s nose and Alfie talks about some fucking cabinet behind him. He throws Tommy his handkerchief, but he doesn’t take it. Fucking cabinets and fucking asking him if Tommy wanted to go to Timbuktu. 

“I’m sorry, go on,” Alfie concedes after telling Tommy that he always thought he’d have a big gold ring on his finger. It was only a small signet ring that Tommy was unconsciously playing with under the table. “Tell us your plan.” 

NEW YORK, 1921

“I just got off the phone with the secretary. We’re invited to some Charity Gala in London that we have to go to,” Simon says. Simon says…seems like all you do is follow what Simon says. “You can stay here if you don’t want to go.”

“When is this?”

“In a week mostly,” he shrugged. “It would be great to have you there. It’s not grand or anything; it’s just a few of my partners having an event for some charity or foundation.”

“Oh,” you nodded. You wanted to be away from Simon, but you also wanted to go back to London. How were the Shelbys? How was Beth? “Yeah…yeah, I’ll go,”

“Perfect,” he says. “Your dress? You need a new one. I’ll arrange a trip for you with my assistant to help you look for what to wear. You have to be the most beautiful woman there. For reference, I prefer blue on you.”

“Okay, Simon. I’ll make sure to get a blue dress for you.” He smiles at you before turning the page on his newspaper. You were glad that things were back to how they were before Tommy arrived in Birmingham. You didn’t blame him—Tommy—Simon’s actions were your own fault. Who in the right mind would let their wife love another man? It’s not like Simon knew of your love but the fact that you hid who Tommy was from him still remains. Letting go of Tommy that night was…painful.

You couldn’t erase how crest-fallen he looked; that you were the cause for his anguish. He didn’t follow you; you told him not to. You didn’t want him to see you sit outside the Garrison with your head buried in your hands. You didn’t want him to see you howl in pain because you’ll never see him again. You didn’t want him to see how it hurt you to say goodbye to him.

You didn’t want him to see you but someone else did. 

BIRMINGHAM, 1919

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

You looked up from your cowering position, eyelashes clumped. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I just…I just left your brother,” you whispered, trying to even out the sob that threatens to get out of your body. Arthur frowns, crouching down in front of you.  He tries to remove your shaky hands only to be met with your bruising jaw. 

“Did Tommy— “

“No,” you shook your head. “He didn’t hit me.”

He nods. Arthur didn’t know who Tommy was these days. He’s closed off, aloof, cold, detached…he sometimes wonders if a time comes and he’ll just snap. Arthur’s coping mechanism was violence. He knows that he’s good…his hands or only bloody but Tommy…Tommy wasn’t good anymore. He felt conflicted; everyone seems to put all the burden on you to make Tommy come back…to make him good again. He heard Polly talk about it; how Tommy needed you…but if Tommy was the reason why you’re miserable, is he still worth coming back to?

“I told Tommy to never see me again,” you managed through your cries. “I feel…I feel so lost, Arthur. I didn’t want to do that—to say that to him when-when he’s here now but I have no other choice…he’ll get-he’ll—“

“What about you?” he asked, tracing big circles on your back.

“What do you mean?” you asked, hiccuping. 

“I mean…you talk about Tommy and-and making sure that we’re all doing great but what about you, eh?” There was a small frown on his face, it was so different from the ‘Mad Dog’ that people know him as. 

“I don’t need that,” you chuckled. “I’m married to-to—“

“Simon Coventry, I know. But who do you have other than him? I know you love Tommy—don’t even fucking deny it. It’s why you’re doing all these things, I know but Tommy has us; he has Birmingham, and you don’t,” he adds, tearing your heart into pieces. The realisation of isolation dawns on you and it is wicked; consuming your heart with grief because you had no one. Not Tommy. Not anymore. “You make sure that all of us are being taken care of…but no one’s taking care of you. This whole thing-this thing with Tommy, is it worth it if you can’t even come home to Simon because you’re fucking crying in front of The Garrison?”

“I don’t know what to do,” you shrugged. “I…I just can’t seem to stay away from you lot,”

“Oh, love,” he sighs. He’ll never tell anyone that he saw you crying in front of the Garrison. “Why did you marry him?”

“Because…I wasn’t sure if Tommy’s coming back,” you whispered softly. You wiped away the tears from your face, trying to regain composure. “I sent…sent letters but he never wrote back. When Simon proposed the idea of marriage and Tommy wasn’t-wasn’t writing to me, I just took the chance. It was a chance to get out of that fucking hellhole. Tommy hates me for it,” you whimpered. “I know he hates me for it because I always told him that I’ll wait but-but he didn’t write back. I didn’t wait for him.”

Arthur frowns, confused. 

“He wrote to you but you never wrote to him,” he said.

“What?” 

“He did, love. Wrote to you multiple times and-and he’d always be the first one to show up when there were letters from home. Always-always looking for your letter,” he reminisces. Deep in your heart, you knew that he was telling you the truth because there was some sort of empty longing that crossed his eyes. “He waited for your letters every day for four years.”

“Arthur…”

“I’m telling you the truth,” he says, looking at you more intently. “None of us knew you got married,” he added. 

“Arthur—“ You were heaving, this changes things. Your resentment towards Tommy was all in vain if he sent you letters but where were those letters? Where could they be? Seeing you in distress, Arthur flings his arm around your shoulder. “I hated him for it…I hated him for four years…” you weeped. “Arthur, how could I haveever hated him?” You felt like cold water was splashed on your face. Of course, Tommy would have never done that to you. But who did?

“It’s not your fault, love. It’s not your fault.”

-

LONDON, 1921

It’s been long since you last stepped foot in London. A year wasn’t a long time but a year teetering on the edge waiting for the next blow was a year too long. It’s not that you were expecting anything, but now that you’re in London…so close to Tommy, you know that everything will be different again. He’ll be forceful under the pretext of loving you, some bullshitt about it being for the better…you knew it was wrong. You knew that it wasn’t right. You hated your predicament, but you hated yourself more for never seeming to have the ability to hate him. 

You never questioned his love for you; you were sure about that but sometimes…you found yourself questioning if he loved you too much. You’ve never experienced love like that before. Too much love. Growing up, you always had just enough. What you couldn’t find from your mum, you found in Johnny. What you couldn’t find in your customers, you found in the Shelbys. What you couldn’t find from yourself, you found in Tommy. What you couldn’t find in Tommy, you tried to look for in Simon. 

Everything was just right. To have too much was too much. 

“You’ve been quiet since we got here, darling,” Simon says, his hand on your knee as you rode the Bentley back home. 

“Sorry,” you smiled up at him. “I just miss London. It’s different to be back home,”

“I know,” he says. “But we’re here now. Where do you prefer?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, playing with his fingers. You thumbed the rings on his fingers, your wedding band the most important one. 

“I’m asking…where do you want to build our family?” he asked. “I know I said that I didn’t want to have children yet but we aren’t getting any younger. We’d make the most beautiful children. They’ll get your beauty and intelligence. They’ll inherit whatever they want to inherit from me,”

Your fingers stilled. 

“Hmm,” you pretended to think, trying to playt the cards right. “I’d want our children to grow up in London.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his head falling on your shoulder.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I want them to grow up here but also experience different things from travelling. Maybe we could find a summer house in Italy?” you asked. He kisses your neck and you sit there cold, unmoving. 

“Yes, let’s buy a house in Italy…” he murmurs, drunk on your scent. “How many houses do you want, hm? Let’s buy whatever my wife wants…whatever she needs, hm?” 

“You spoil me too much, Simon,” you force out a giggle. He doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Only for the best. You’re going to be the mother of my children,” 

-

You arrived home and you heaved a sigh. You went inside your bedroom, ready to unpack some of the items you bought from New York when your eyes landed on the frame of pressed flowers that Tommy gave you on your birthday. Simon has been telling you to get rid of it—it was tacky, he said but you told him that the flowers were from a day of picnicking with your mother when you were a child. You felt your lips twitch at the memory of Tommy giving it to you sheepishly. If only you could have him back now. If only he’s there with you. 

You breathed deeply, trying to purge yourself of the sadness that lingered. It’s been two years since you’ve last seen him. He’s staying true to his word, you knew. He’s protecting you and you’re protecting him. You hated the situation you were in. Why did you need protection in the first place? You were the wife of one of the wealthiest men in the whole world. You could have everything you’ve ever wanted handed to you on a silver platter. You could have everything but why do you feel so alone? Why do you feel like there’s still something missing? Why do you feel like, no matter what you did—no matter how you tried, Tommy’s still the one you love? You reached for the pendant but you remembered that it wasn’t there.

Was it selfish to wish for him to never marry someone else? To never love anyone? Was it selfish to wish for him to finally love you the way you do all these years? 

Or was he only protecting you because he’s bound by his words and not the feeling of unbridled love that he has for you? 

Polly told you that you could have everything…you felt like you had nothing. 

You had more when you were working as a prostitute. 

Now, you just have Simon. 

-

Simon has been feeling your detachment ever since you arrived in New York. He knew that it was his fault; laying his hand on you like that but could anyone really blame him? You were his love; the object of all of his desires. You needed protecting, you needed safety and you needed him to give you the world. 

He was in his office, sorting through the files that he left for a year. He picks up the telephone and dials a number. He wanted you all for himself. He was hungry for you; hunger for your affection, your flesh, your gaze. He’ll do everything to preserve the attention that you were giving him but now that he feels you slipping away, he’s becoming more desperate. It was all Tommy Shelby’s fault and he needed to be dealt with. 

“I sent you the money for the murder of Johnny Wilson,” he speaks into the telephone. “I need you to do gsomething for me again.”

“Hm?” 

Simon speaks into the phone authoritatively. Details of his plan were spoken. He was meticulous and specific with what he wanted.

“Even…even the children?”

“Even the children,” he confirms. He senses the hesitation of the speaker from the other side. “If you do it in less than a year, I’ll add another twenty thousand to the total. I’ll make sure you never have to work a day in your fucking life. Call me when it’s done,” he spits, ending the call and looking at a photo of you on the table; not knowing that on the other side, an intruder was hearing everything that just transpired. 

Who was Simon Coventry? 

-

Cameras flashed as you enter the venue for the charity ball. You were dressed in a blue gown like promised. Simon’s hand was on your waist, smiling tightly at the cameras. He always hated the attention of the media and in your own way, you wanted to calm him down. You touch the hand that was on your waist to remind him that you were there. You smile at him softly and he smiles back. If only he was as soft as he presents himself to be in the media. 

He leads you into the venue without so much a glance offered to the media and you follow. 

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” you smiled up at him. 

“You can go ahead and sit,” he says. “I’ll just be greeting some of my partners.” You nod and you allow him to kiss you on the cheek before you part ways. You didn’t know why—but you felt like something was wrong. Something was going to happen tonight. 

A waiter comes to your table and offers you a drink. He was young—probably way younger than you.

“Champagne, please,” you told him. “You’re too young to be working,”

“I-I’m nineteen, ma’am,” he tells you while pouring you a glass.

“Ah, maybe not that young then,” you replied. “Is this your first day?”

“Yes, ma’am. My first day on the job,” he says. “I’m quite nervous to be surrounded by the rich but I need the money…”

“I’m sure you’ll do well,” you replied, offering him a friendly smile. “Here,” you said, opening your clutch and handing him a few pounds. “Think of it as a tip for serving me champagne and for talking to me.”

“This is too much, ma’am,” he refuses but you shove the notes in his hand. You remembered how tips from the brothel helped you so much; it allowed you to buy necessities. It allowed you to get Tommy the signet ring that you got him for his 21st birthday. You were busy talking to the young man that you didn’t notice your husband walking towards you with a scowl on his face. 

“Hey, you,” he sarcastically greets the server, snapping his fingers rudely.. “Refill my glass,”

“Simon— “

“Thank you,” he says, disregarding you completely. The boy turns to leave but Simon stops him. “No, stay. I need you to refill my fucking drink every time.”

“Simon—“

“You think my wife is beautiful?” he asked. The boy looks at you and you attempt to shake your head; telling him to walk away before anything else happens. “I’d be offended if you told me that she wasn’t.”

“Simon— “

He takes a swig of his drink before extending the same empty glass.

“What’s your name?” Simon asked, watching the boy shakily refill the champagne flute. “Don’t spill anything on my wife,” he threatens darkly. The boy swallows. 

“William, sir,”

“William…do you think my wife is pretty?” he asked again. You look around the room to see that everyone was trying to discreetly watch the commotion. You tried standing up but Simon pushed you back down.

“Y-yes, sir,”

Simon nods, pleased with William’s answer.

“You may go, William,” you calmly told him.

“You may not,” Simon says. William’s feet were stuck planted on the ground. He was shaking and you tried to plead with Simon, but he wasn’t looking at you. “Actually, let’s take this outside, hm? Everyone seems to be enjoying this fucking commotion. Come with us, Y/N,”

“Simon, please,”

“Come on, darling,” he says, pulling you away forcefully from the table. You stumble after him, heart racing wildly inside your chest. Fuck. Your shoulders were shaking as you tried to catch your breath. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The three of you arrive in the wine cellar, an empty room where you were sure no one heard you. 

“Stand there,” Simon says. “Y/N, stay beside me.”

William stands in front of Simon, his steps hesitant.

“I’ll give you a deal, William. Do you want a thousand pounds? You’ll never find that anywhere else,” he taunts. You shake your head discreetly, but William wasn't looking at you. He was pale, his breathing shallow. “I’ll give it to you right now. Cash,”

“Y-yes, sir,” he replies. 

“Say please,”

“Simon—“

“Shut up! Shut up!”

“Please, sir,”

“Kneel and beg.”

“Simon, it’s not right! Please, let’s just go home,” 

William kneels in front of Simon, and you could see the sinister smile that played on his lips. He fishes for something in his pocket—a gun. 

“S-sir,”

“You want a thousand pounds, yeah?” he asked, waving his gun in the air. 

“Simon—“

“I don’t want another word from you, Y/N. Or else, I swear, I will fucking shoot you.” he threatens. You were trying your best to stop being so hysterical but you couldn’t. You were sobbing, hands shaking when Simon pointed the gun at the poor boy. You tried to hold back the sobs that threatened to come out; tried to wonder what a monster Simon becamez

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” you choked, crouching down on the floor to comfort yourself. “I’m sorry, William…”

BANG! BANG!

The sounds of a gun going off rings inside the cellar and you flinch. Simon has just shot William twice; one on his stomach, one on his shoulder. It was sloppy; you knew he was aiming for his heart. William lays on the floor with a pool of his own blood, crying in pain. Simon just walks towards him, throwing him a thousand pounds and then spitting on William’s face. 

“Don’t ever look at my fucking wife again. Fix yourself Y/N. We’re going back to the party,”

“Simon, he’s just a kid! Get him to a fucking hospital!”

“I said, fix yourself!” he roared, and you closed your mouth. You stepped away from him, afraid of what he might do.

“Now you know what happens if you ever try to leave me. It’s time for me to show you what I will do to protect you, okay darling?” he asked, crouching down to your level and pulling you in an embrace. He kisses your temples to comfort you for the damage that he has done. “Don’t ever leave me,”

The two of you left William’s body and went back to the party. You were shaken, aloof the whole night. You couldn’t believe what just transpired. Simon’s cruelty—his disregard for himan life for a thousand pounds… You were trying to catch the attention of other servers but were ignored. You just wanted someone to check on William, that poor boy. You and your husband continued to sit beside each other acting like the happy couple, never noticing the pair of blue eyes that seemed to pierce straight into you. 

-

Simon killed Johnny. 

Your hands shook as you read the handwriting on the crumpled piece of paper over and over again. You found it in the clutch that you left in your seat when Simon shot William in the cellar. Turning the paper over, you sobbed; unable to control the emotions that begged for your attention—anger, fear, disgust, sadness…everything seemed to crash into you. You run towards the bathroom to vomit on the toilet. Your whole body tembled, and you cradled yourself on the bathroom floor. You didn’t care if the dress was wet and crumpled…how…why…what did you do in your past life to be punished like this? 

-

You haven’t been the same since you received that note. Simon found you in bed; unmoving and unresponsive. The shock must have been too much to bear but he had to show you—he had to put on a display of what he would do to keep you safe and away from the Shelbys. He didn’t regret anything except for the way your eyes glistened when he threatened to shoot you. That was a sin he’d pay for but for now, maybe silence is enough to soothe you. 

He lays in bed, an inch too far away from you and he couldn’t bear it. He could hear the way your sobs shook the bed; how hard you tried to keep yourself from being too loud. 

“Darling…” he coos but you only cried harder. 

“Not tonight, Simon. Please,” you whispered, desperation kicking in. “I’m…I’m— “

He nods to himself, a wounded puppy. 

“I have…I have to leave you tomorrow to meet with Alfie Solomons,” he tells you. “Use that time to go out or, or get out of this place. I wouldn’t mind if you went alone as long as you have at least one of Alfie’s men to guard you,” 

You wanted to laugh. He was holding your liberty as hostage; taunting you with it whenever he did something wrong but in reality, no matter how much freedom he grants you, his hand will always be on your neck to keep you from leaving. 

“I’m sorry for threatening you,”

“Not tonight, Simon,”

He nods but it actually angers him for you to refuse him so easily. He has given you anything and everything. Hell, he bought you that summer house in Italy already, but you still couldn’t give him the satisfaction of holding you for the night. Did Tommy Shelby hold you while you slept? Would you have let him?

-

You felt Simon kiss your head before he left. You couldn’t sleep last night, thinking of all the ways to tell Tommy or at least anyone about Simon’s plan. You weren’t sure if he was sincere when he told you that you can go out today but you were taking that chance. You knew that Arthur wanted you to protect yourself but maybe this could be the last time. Just this once and then, never again. 

You dressed up, the brown coat covering your figure and giving you shelter from the cruelty of the world that Simon built for the two of you. You ordered one of the servants to fetch you one of Solomons’ men that could drive. You needed to talk to Polly or anyone from Birmingham and the only way to do it was through the telephone. It was too dangerous at home; Simon had eyes and ears everywhere. 

“Mrs. Coventry,” the driver greets you, opening the door to let you in. You settle yourself inside, opening your clutch for a deal he couldn’t resist. 

“Other than driving me around, what else do you do?” you asked him. 

“I’m told to obey all of your orders as long as it complies with what Mr. Coventry asks us,” he replied. “Where are we going today, ma’am?” 

“Just…go to the city,” you replied. “Do you think…do you think you could do something for me? I’ll make sure you’re paid and that you won’t be blamed for anything that comes out of it,”

“Ma’am, I am under strict orders of Mr. Solomons to— “

“Five hundred pounds,” you interrupted, you needed him to understand the urgency of the situation. Your nail beds have bled through the night and were red and swollen. “I can give it to you in cash right now. Just tell me if you know where I could reach the Shelbys the fastest,” You sounded like Simon like now, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care anymore. 

“There…there are Blinders right outside a flat in London. Ada Shelby is rumoured to live there,” he says lowly. 

“Take me there. Make sure you’re discreet and make sure we’re not being followed. I’ll make sure that you’re safe,” you promised him. “Just…just go there as fast as you can,” 

It’s hard to be discreet when you’re driving one of the most expensive cars in the world, but he drove you to Ada Shelby’s house anyway. Five hundred pounds was more than what he could ever make working under Alfie Solomons. 

A storm was brewing, and you were at the centre of all of it. 

-

Ada lives in a building in the centre of London. On the way, your driver told you about how Tommy bought the whole building for her. You smiled softly; Tommy was finally realising his dreams, but he was realising them without you. 

You exited the car, covered from head to toe. You made sure no one recognized you; the lush, brown coat and your hat covered your face entirely. You told him to leave you alone and come back in three hours. He zoomed off, afraid to be seen by one of Simon’s men.

Your breathing was uneven and the steps that you took were shaky. You blamed it on the uneven ground. Knocking on the door, you prayed silently for Ada to hear you. The more time you spend outside, the higher the risk of being recognized. You waited with bated breath, but the door soon opened, revealing none other than the man who occupied every corner of your brain. You rushed inside before he could even speak and he let you, locking the door behind him as he followed you into the drawing room. He stands in front of you, removing the coat from your shoulders gently. You were shivering but not from the cold. How were you more beautiful than the last time he saw you?

“Tommy, Tommy, Tommy,” you said over and over again, like you were making sure that he was there. Your resolve was dissolving, and you were near hysterical. He crouches down in front of you to take a good look for your face. He missed it; he missed your touch…he missed you. His fingers on your waist seem to snap you back to reality and you take a deep breath. “Simon killed Johnny. He’s going to—he’s going to kill all of you,”

-

A/N: Thank you very much for making this far! We’re getting closer to the end of this series but please don’t forget to reblog and comment if you liked it / loved it / hated this chapter, etc! I love discussing and replying to your comments and reblogs.

ALSO: A quick character study on Simon is that he is filty rich. The value of money is immaterial to him. In his eyes, money is a way for him to get anything and everything he wants. It’s what makes people kill and die for each other. If it benefits him, then he’d gladly throw money at whatever it is about.

TAGLIST:  @shelbydelrey @runnning-outof-time @duckybird101 @thenattitude @swordofawriter @litteltourtius​ @trixie23​ @everythingelseisextra​ @majesticcmey @liveat1am @dumb-wh @denabp16 @yvonna-chan @goldensunflowe-r @therosabel @hunnibearrr @dazecrea @daddyslittleattentionwhore @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf @dang-shawty-okay @dasia21 @tsenthusiast1920 @aces-tattooartist @panda-luminary @ttaechi @spencerrxids @i-heart-food @fudge13 @affabletimelady @heartcereql @ce1iat @notalxx @1800-queen-trash @sweetwanderlust05 @globetrotter28 @thebestandworstdayofjune @reggxe-a @verreuckteli @vampireluck @zoexme

(I’ll be removing people from my taglist on the next chapter if conditions aren’t met! I’m sorry but that’s the rule….)

[7grandmel]

Character Archives - [FILE-07]

Grand Dad

"Mario seven, uh, was that the one I played? Oh, let's check it out..."

For Walt Disney, it all began with a mouse. But for SiIvaGunner, it all began with a bootleg game, a streamer, and a pinch of insanity. Many have come after him, and many can claim to be funnier - but Grand Dad will forever hold the title as the first ever figment of imagination to come out of the bubbling mind of SiIvaGunner [FILE-01]. As a result, he has come to be a symbol for the channel in its entirety, the very embodiment of the SiIvaGunner ethos, and something of a dear friend in the eyes of its creator.

In 2014, a certain streamer under the name of Vinesauce Joel was going through the motions of his typical streaming routine - playing games of the oddest variety, and bellylaughing at the absurd results they'd deliver. Even as part of this greater whole, however, Joel's reaction to 7 GRAND DAD immediately became a standout moment, a series of events so perfect that the comedic timing couldn't have been coordinated to be any better. A mumbling Joel clicks on the game bizarrely labeled as "Mario 7", and is to his great shock met with the imagery of a garishly discolored Mario, placed onto an equally garish blue background, as bold letters declare the game's name to be "7 GRAND DAD". Before Joel can even properly process the twist he's been subjected to, only letting out a reading of the game's name, the game twists all expectations once again: An 8-bit rendition of The Flintstones theme, originally from The Flintstones: The Rescue of Dino & Hoppy, kicks in - prompting a bewildered reaction of "FLINTSTONES?!" from the thoroughly befuddled streamer.

This is a sequence of events you're all too familiar with if you're a fan of the SiIvaGunner channel, yet nevertheless a necessary one to properly recount to understand just how core Grand Dad is to SiIvaGunner: Through this one 15-second clip of one streamer's reaction to the unpredictable world of bootleg video games, a small subset of internet dwellers on the platform SoundCloud realized that they'd uncovered a whole new genre of derivative audio work. Mashups and arrangements were always alive and well on the internet, yet always delivered with upfront honesty: To play into their derivative nature as part of the reaction, to present these edits as if they were the nostalgic, authentic real-deal video game music that you grew up loving, only to have the edit serve as an unexpected punchline, was the kind of brilliant idea that just had to be capitalized on. Thus, in January 2016, one lone internet dweller by the name Chaze the Chat started the SiIvaGunner (then GiIvaSunner) channel, and uploaded "Wild Pokémon Battle - Pokémon Ruby & Sapphire". The bait-and-switch foundation that laid the groundwork for all of SiIvaGunner, all built upon the concept of a bootleg Flintstones game pretending to be the seventh entry in the Super Mario franchise.

In our world, Grand Dad's debut to the online world is now over ten years old, his legacy on the SiIvaGunner channel being that of a figurehead mainly representative of the simpler times that the channel has long since grown up from. Yet in the SiIvaGunner universe, to SiIvaGunner himself, Grand Dad is the beating heart of the entire channel, the first spark of imagination which binds his whole universe together. Every figment made since the channel's inception owes its existence to Grand Dad, and with every step SiIvaGunner underwent across his original 2016 run, Grand Dad was right there alongside him, an enduring voice in his head steering the channel onward. And even as his creator fell into a deep slumber, as The Voice Inside Your Head [FILE-03] set his plans into motion to extract SiIvaGunner's figments into the real world, Grand Dad was at the front lines of the resistance fighting in his name - and remains a symbol of hope for all figments caught in The Voice's tyrannical reign.

Across eight years of the channel's life, Grand Dad has gone through so many phases in reception: As a novel joke, as a beacon of hope, as a redundant and played-out bit, looping around into being used ironically, followed by a loop-back-around into being genuinely appreciated. Event after event, album after album, Grand Dad has become a genuine symbol of everything the channel does, and continues to appear to represent it across all of its twists and turns. It's no small feat for a figment to have endured in relevancy for as long as Grand Dad has, and no matter where the channel is headed, you can sure that he's here to stay.

[princeasimdiya12]

Bucchigiri Utena Parallel-The Greek Chorus

In many plays and stories, the Greek Chorus refers to a group of characters that either commentate on the main storyline or have their own subplot that parallels or foreshadows the main story that appears. It's rare when they actually interact with the main characters but their role is meant to emphasize the meanings and plot events that occur.

In Bucchigiri, we have Nyan Nyaight Love which is their version of the Shadow Play Girls from Revolutionary Girl Utena.

For those who aren't familiar with the Shadow Play Girls, they serve as an actual Greek Chorus in the Utena anime. Every episode, the girls put on a cryptic and bizarre play with a message that correlates to the ongoing events or conflicts that Utena, Anthy and the Student Council deal with throughout the series. Some are straight forward and easy to understand, others are straight up wackadoodle and have layers of meaning to comprehend. But each skit contains a hidden but vital message that relates to the main storyline in Utena.

While Nyan Nyaight Love may not be as complicated or bizarre as the Shadow Play Girls, they still do their part in paralleling the Bucchigiri storyline.

Episode 1: Introductions

The first episode features the customer contemplating whether he should go into NNL or if he should leave. It isn't until he sees Arajin being chased down the street by the NG Boys that he enters out of fear of being spotted.

The customer serves as a parallel to Arajin. He too is a wimpy, unappealing, jittery, hopeless, mopey, delusional everyman. And just like how the customer was unsure as to whether he should enter a shady, controversial place like NNL, Arajin also struggles with entering the dangerous and colorful world of the Ichizu Gangs. And his involvement in their lifestyle has mainly been a forced reaction, as in he jumps into the fray while fearful for his safety. The NNL Receptionist can also be seen as a parallel for the colorful banchos and bad boys that Arajin, and the audience, meet in their upcoming encounters.

In the world of Revolutionary Girl Utena, one of the ongoing themes was fairy tales and stories that are told from one person to another. The Shadow Girls fit that theme by putting on plays for the audience about their own stories. So there are clear parallels of the main storyline.

And then we "meet" Jasmine.

Just like it's the customer's first time in a place like NNL, it's also Arajin's first time in the world of Ichizu's gangs. And his meeting with Jasmine is a clear parallel to him meeting Mahoro for the first time. This is more apparent when you take in the Disney movie with Arajin (Aladdin) meeting his beloved Mahoro (Jasmine).

It's also worth noting that the customer asks if he can use the honorific "chan" which is mainly used for people/girls that someone has a close relationship with. And despite meeting her for only one day, Arajin is the one who proposes that it is "fate" that brought him and Mahoro together and how they're destined to be lovers. Clearly he's skipping multiple steps in the relationship making process expecting Mahoro to feel the same way.

Episode 2: I Couldn't Stay Away

The second time, the customer returns and is scared into entering the building after Senya drags along Arajin. Despite some hesitance, he asks the Receptionist for Jasmine again.

So it's pretty obvious, the customer is in "love" with Jasmine and is hooked onto her. Even when she starts to "cling" to him.

At this point, Arajin has fallen head over heels for Mahoro and can't get her out of her head. His new motivations begin and end with conquering Mahoro's heart so he can use her to lose his virginity. And to conquer her heart and be as close to her as possible, he's more than willing to go through a shady and morally ambiguous place like the gang life.

Though the clingy part comes off as self-delusion since Mahoro absolutely hates him and wants nothing to do with him. Even making it clear constantly from this episode onward. Yet Arajin isn't bothered and is eager to make her his.

However, this does set up as it's first example of foreshadowing for the following episode.

Even though Mahoro hates him, she decides to play along with his infatuation with her when he's recruited into Siguma Squad. She's "clinging" to him in order to sway and manipulate him so he'll be able to take over Siguma Squad as it's new leader, forcing her brother to graduate so she can have him all to himself. Or so Arajin will get beat up badly, she's down for whatever. And because Arajin is stuck in his self-delusion about Mahoro and their destined love life, he doesn't see the red flags and falls for her claws. Eager to continue hanging out with the violent happy SS regardless of the peril he may face.

Episode 3: This episode did not feature a NNL segment.

Episode 4: Please Forgive Me

The customer is once again contemplating whether he should go in or not, even saying that he should just quit. Alas, a chubby Arajin scares him inside where he once again asks for Jasmine. Only now he's in hot water for having left her for so long.

While normally this would be a stand in for Arajin and his hopeless love for Mahoro and how he's failing her, this time, the customer represents another character.

In this case, it's Matakara.

Earlier in the episode, he gets into another conversation with Arajin over the upcoming Gang War and how they should stop it. But it soon turns into another plea for him to rebuild their friendship and how he wants to become Honki people with him like before. Despite his efforts, Arajin tells him to get over it and orders him to leave him alone. Just like a cat turning her back on the customer after their absence.

And just like the customer blames himself for her anger, Matakara believes he's at fault for their friendship failing. Because he was too weak to fight the thugs who beat him up which is why Arajin abandoned him. And much like how the customer never viewed at any other "cat", Matakara has his eyes and heart only for Arajin. Even after making new friends in the Minato Kai club, his idol has always been his childhood friend who inspired him when he was just a weak boy so many years ago.

And he'll make that fact known to Arajin everytime they meet; reminding him that he's someone of great importance in his life and that he just has to believe him. No matter how many times he's turned away, Matakara still holds him dearly in his heart.

Episode 5: The Next Level

The customer returns and declares that it's a big day for him. This time he gets scared in by Kenichirou and the Minato Kai Gang making their way to the upcoming warzone.

Hoping to patch things up with Jasmine, the customer presents a gift.

The way I interpret this scene, it comes off as taking his relationship with Jasmine to the next level by giving her a choker. For pets, giving them a choker can be considered the same as giving them a collar. Usually to signify your bond as master and pet. Or in this case, it comes off as the customer treating his precious Jasmine to a gift in the hopes of raising her mood.

For this scene, I see it as a parallel to everyone's relationships and how they're moving on to the next level.

This takes place during the Gang War two parter with both gangs going at each other only for the NG Boys to stage their attack. The fighting persists until Arajin steps in to protect Mahoro from being killed by Akutaro. And while fighting, he gains a major power boost from Senya as his merge rate increases as a result.

And once he defeats the NG Emperor, everyone's mood cheers up for the better and their relationships improve as a result. The rival gangs are more friendly with each other and are able to get along in spite of their rivalry that's lasted for years. Matakara gets to have a bonding moment with Arajin which is a huge step compared to how coldly he's been treated in the past. And Senya is super excited that the merge rate between him and Arajin has increased.

Everything and everyone is in better spirits now.

To bad it won't last for very long.

Episode 6: This episode does not feature an NNL segment.

Episode 7: A New Cat???

The customer is once again worried about whether he should enter NNL and is scared into coming in when Arajin rushes by due to being late for the Group Date.

The receptionist welcomes him into the establishment and asks if he wants his usual. But to his surprise, the customer has someone else in mind.

It's hard to say why exactly the customer decided to go for a new cat instead of Jasmine. Perhaps it's because he's become used to the NNL environment and is bold enough to try someone different.

But what strikes me fancy about this part is not so much the change in cat but the receptionist's reaction. All this time, we've seen him as a silly catboy who loves to tease the customer and rolls with him coming to see his precious Jasmine. But it's the change in cat that causes him to react this way. He loses his silly front and shows actual shock and maybe concern over such a drastic change. He doesn't even revert back to his playful self as it cuts straight to the customer meeting Pu'er-chan (Fun fact: Pu'er is a type of tea that's specially grown in China. And taking Jasmine into account, the cats at NNL are all named after Chinese tea flavors).

So he goes on with meeting the new cat even though he still has feelings for Jasmine. And he's greatly surprised to see Pu'er accept him with relative ease based on his elated reaction.

So to start, this segment is ripe with foreshadowing as it features the customer deciding to take a break from his old cat of interest and goes for a new cat. The customer changes his old cat for a new one. And who do we know who's interested in choosing someone new at the end of Episode 7?

"Do you know? Do you know? Do you know who he chooses?"

And mixed with the receptionist's reaction of shock and concern, the series itself has underwent a change in tone based on everything that happened in Episode 8. The comedy and jokes are significantly toned down in order focus on the more serious and heartbreaking elements of Matakara's brother being suddenly hospitalized and Arajin confessing that he was a coward all along which all leads up to Matakara falling into the palms of Ichiya, our presumed villain of the show.

Another things I want to mention/theorize is that when the customer brings up how he couldn't get Jasmine out of his head, that was a parallel to Ichiya being unable to get Senya out of his head. The two genies have a long, hidden but deep history with each other and it's implied that Senya did something to warrant his wrath. And given that Ichiya has a grudge in his heart that he intends to resolve, his goals in using Matakara are all but stated to be part of his masterplan of taking revenge against Senya.

And the last part with Pu'er fully embracing the customer will be foreshadowing of Matakara accepting Ichiya's proposal and power with minimal hesitation. With him at the brink of despair and with no one to turn to for emotional support (sorry Minato Kai boys), he'll be desperate and eager to follow Ichiya's will no matter how questionable or corrupt it may be. It isn't clear as to what type of wish Mataraka will make or what Ichiya will offer him to go along with his revenge, but the boy is clearly at his most vulnerable and weakest. He'll accept anything and fall into Ichiya's hands just to make the pain more bearable.

Conclusion

The Nyan Nyaight Love segments are meant to serve as a Greek Chorus for the Bucchigiri series. Paralleling the dynamics and conflicts between the main characters (Arajin, Matakara and Mahoro) while also providing foreshadowing for events to come. Much like the Shadow Play Girls and how they would parallel and foreshadow the main events in Utena. And under the assumption that we'll get more NNL segments, then the scenes with the customer and the receptionist will foretell more of what will happen throughout the show and the relationships between the characters.

And those are my thoughts on this nonsensical skit. What do you guys think? If you have your own interpretations for these segments or if there was something that you agreed or disagreed with, please feel free to reblog this and share your comments. It's worth mentioning that the plays that the Shadow Girls held had various ways of being interpreted so there's really no wrong way to go about this.