#i keep thinking i'll run out of ridiculous things to say but not so far guys. not so far

[cyclogenesis]

ryan reynolds photos i've been fixating on lately 27/∞

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 14 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After the perfect weekend, three days without Bradley is harder than you could have ever imagined. It makes you think about what it will be like when you have to go months without each other. When he visits your classroom for the second time, your students make him feel welcome as they come up with an amazing idea.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, unprotected sex, oral sex, smut, Bradley in love, 18+

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

You were at Bradley's house on Sunday night a lot later than you originally anticipated, but you just couldn't seem to make yourself leave. He kept luring you back to the couch with the promise of one more quick snuggle, and you fell for it every single time.

"I have to get my lesson plans in order for tomorrow," you whispered as you kissed your way along the scars on his cheek from your spot on his lap. 

"Bring them with you next time," he murmured, big hands warm on your lower back.

"You wouldn't mind?" You knew what a turnoff it was for your ex whenever you even mentioned your classroom full of kids, so it would have never occurred to you to bring your work with you down to Coronado for the weekend.

Bradley's fingers stroked your bare skin as he said, "Maybe I could help you? I actually like a lot of the same stuff as your fourth graders. Like airplanes and dogs and their teacher."

You snorted with laughter against his neck, but you said, "Next weekend I'll bring my lesson plans with me."

"Excellent," he murmured. "Then you can stay even later."

You knew without a doubt that in a few more weeks, you'd be sleeping over on Sunday night and driving straight to work on Monday morning if he asked you to. How could you not? The entire weekend had been incredible even with Vanessa crashing in on Friday. Being around Bradley felt like something close to magic with the way he talked to you and touched you. Earlier this morning, you sent him out for a run with Natasha, and he came back to you all sweaty and needy. You even got an adorable photo of him stopping to tie his shoe on a bench which his best friend texted you. And after lunch, you took a spider outside for him when he begged you to get rid of it, and he thanked you with at least a hundred kisses.

But now, when you tried to stand up, Bradley pouted and wrapped his arms around you a little tighter. "I'll see you when you come up to my school on Wednesday," you whispered with a smile.

"That's so far away," he groaned, letting his arms go limp at his sides as you wiggled yourself free. "I don't like that at all."

You pressed your lips together to keep the massive, goofy smile that threatened to take over your entire face at bay while you collected your things. Bradley watched your every movement as you said, "It's not like I won't text you some potentially dirty photos and call you just to tell you I love you."

He was on his feet right then and there with a ridiculous looking grin of his own. "Say it again, Gorgeous."

You looked up at him as he closed the distance with three long strides, and you said, "I love you."

It took you another twenty minutes to finish making out with him, and then he carried everything out to your car where you made out a little bit more. You got home really quite late.

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

On Wednesday morning, you made the rookie mistake of telling your kids that a visitor would be spending the afternoon in your classroom, but you were too excited about it to keep quiet.

"Is it Lieutenant Bradshaw?" Violet asked immediately as she bobbed in her seat.

"You'll just have to wait and see," you replied, getting your language arts notes ready to teach.

"Is he bringing his Super Hornet with him?" Harrison practically screamed.

"He can't bring a fighter jet to school," Jayden scoffed. "It would take up too many parking spots."

"I never even said who our special visitor is!" you reminded them as you started writing a few spelling words on the board.

Nia sighed behind you and murmured, "If it's not Lieutenant Bradshaw, then what's the point?"

You had to stifle your laughter, because you didn't disagree. You weren't even sure what he had in store for your kids, but he insisted he was going to need at least two hours with them. When you had questioned him about getting leave from base for the afternoon, he just laughed. "The Navy loves it when we do classroom outreach. I'm sure my commanding officers will all make it a point to thank me for volunteering, so there's no way I'm telling them that I'm visiting my girlfriend's school. But I'm sure they'll catch on by the fourth or fifth time I ask for the afternoon off."

Whenever he used the word girlfriend, you couldn't stop smiling. And the insinuation that he would be visiting multiple times made you giddy. You just had to get through the morning and lunchtime, and then he would be here.

"Spelling words. Let's focus," you told your class. "We can worry about our visitor in a few more hours." But they were already antsy, and they remained that way until you sent them to the lunchroom to cause some havoc without you. That's when you realized that you were antsy, too. How in the world were you already so attached to Bradley that three days apart felt like a week? How were you supposed to do a deployment when the time came? Your heart ached a little bit whenever you thought about spending months away from him.

You picked at your lunch at your desk and checked your phone. Bradley texted you nearly an hour ago to let you know that he was on his way up which prompted you to scroll through some of the photos of him you had saved. "It never gets old," you muttered as you examined the first picture he ever sent you of his face. He looked so tall and handsome on the deck of the aircraft carrier, and you had to stop gawking when your kids came back to the room.

"Is Lieutenant Bradshaw coming soon?" Oliver whined on his way to his desk. "It's taking forever!"

There was no point in denying that he was the special guest, so you just said, "He should be here soon. Practice your spelling words quietly at your desk, okay?"

You walked to your door and peeked out into the hallway. The front office knew he was coming ahead of time today, so there shouldn't be much of a holdup. That's when you saw him. His combat boots squeaked on the floor as he turned the corner, and he ran his fingers through his wavy hair. Each long stride brought him closer to you, and you realized he was holding a large envelope that said CLASSIFIED as well as a coffee from Starbucks in his other hand.

"Gorgeous," he called out when his gaze met yours, and you memorized the way his pace grew quicker so he could get to you. He looked so big and strong in his flight suit, it was unreal. "I missed you," he promised, brown eyes wide and sincere, and then his lips were on yours in the sweetest kiss.

An eruption of voices from inside your classroom started a chorus of, "Oooooh!" as you laughed against your boyfriend's lips. 

"She's kissing Lieutenant Bradshaw!" Violet hissed.

"I already told you they're getting married," Jayden insisted.

"I think they might already be married," Nia whispered.

"No, because her name would be Mrs. Lieutenant Bradshaw," Oliver told everyone while Bradley erupted into laughter as well.

"Are you ready for this disaster?" you ask as you nodded toward your open door where eighteen pairs of eyes were staring back at the two of you.

"Absolutely," he rasped. "Nothing like spending an afternoon with all of my pen pals."

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

Bradley followed you to the front of your classroom, fighting the urge to put his hands on your waist and pull you close the entire way. Your kids already saw him kiss you, for the second time. Maybe the third time if some of them witnessed him with his lips all over yours in the parking lot last week. You were holding the coffee he brought for you and glancing back to smile over your shoulder at him, and he had to remind himself not to cause too much of a scene in front of your class.

"What do we say when we have a special guest visit us?" you asked with a smile.

"Thank you!" your students all shouted in unison.

You were smirking at him as you said, "Thanks for visiting us again today, Lieutenant Bradshaw."

"I can't seem to stay away," he replied, and when he looked up at the kids sitting at their desks, he realized they were as excited to see him as he was to see them. "I hope you're not sick of me yet."

Violet was shaking her head with her pencil poised over her notebook like she was ready to record everything Bradley said. Henry was halfway onto the top of his desk in anticipation. Jayden shouted out, "No way! You're the coolest adult I ever met!"

Bradley tried to hide his smile, but it was impossible. "You're the eighteen coolest kids I've ever met," he promised. Then he winked at you and said, "And you have a way cooler teacher than I ever had in elementary school." You sipped your coffee happily as he held up the envelope in his hand and said, "I brought a bunch of stuff with me today, including blueprints for some jets that are flown in the Navy. But first, does anyone have any questions they want me to try to answer?"

When one girl's hand shot into the air before the others, he pointed to her and said, "You're Nia, right?"

She nodded as you muttered, "I can't believe you remember who is which kid."

"Yes!" Nia said before pointing from you to Bradley. "Our teacher is really pretty, and we all saw you give her a kiss. Did you marry her?"

Bradley chuckled, and you nearly dropped your drink before ducking away from him. "Uh... not yet, Nia," he told the girl, and her face fell.

"Well, when are you going to?"

Bradley glanced toward Jayden who asked the follow up question and said, "I'm kind of hoping for next summer, but I'll let her decide."

You set the coffee down on your desk and turned to face him with surprise in your eyes. "How about we stay on the topic of aviation?" you asked your class, but your voice sounded soft and breathy. "What's in the classified envelope, Lieutenant Bradshaw?" you asked, barely meeting his eyes as you smiled. "Is it really classified?"

Bradley cleared his throat and murmured, "Nah, I just thought it looked cooler." He really wanted to hear your thoughts on his comment about next summer, but that could wait. "But, at one point in time, these blueprints really were classified government property." He emptied the contents out onto Harrison's desk in the row and held up the first blueprint. "Does this look familiar to anyone? I might have sent your teacher a picture of me sitting in the cockpit of this type of jet."

"A Super Hornet!" called Oliver as he bounced in his seat.

"That's right," Bradley told him. "Anyone remember the other name for it?"

When nobody else immediately responded, you said, "It's called the F/A-18. Right?"

"Yeah," he told you with a grin. "That's a gold star and bonus points for the teacher."

You still seemed to be stuck somewhere between surprised and embarrassed, but you returned his smile and asked, "Which other blueprints do you have there?"

Bradley passed around the copy of the F-35 Lightning II before ultimately letting Oliver keep it. "I do recall you saying that flying it would be like slam dunking off the back of a dragon," he said as Oliver's entire face lit up. Then he let everyone look at the blueprints for the EA-18 Growler, the E-2 Hawkeye, and the P-8 Poseidon. There was still a stack in front of him as he said, "There are actually nineteen blueprints here, so everyone can take one home." He quickly swiped the Super Hornet from the pile and walked it over to you. "This one's yours," he told you softly, doing his best to fight the urge to kiss you.

"Cool!" shouted Henry as the blueprints ended up all over the desks. The kids were still examining them loudly as you took the one for the aircraft Bradley flew in your hands. 

"Thanks," you whispered, holding it against your chest. "And thanks for coming today."

"Lieutenant Bradshaw?" called Violet. "What happens when one of the aircrafts is broken? Do all the mechanics know how to fix all the airplanes? Or do they only learn how to fix one kind each? And where do they fix them? And did your jet ever need a mechanic?"

"That kid has aviator written all over her," Bradley muttered, letting his fingers brush the side of your hand as he walked toward Violet. "You remember my friend Marty? The mechanic from some of the videos I sent?" When she nodded, Bradley said, "Well, he knows how to fix the Super Hornets and a few other kinds of planes, too. He fixes mine all the time. That's why mechanics get deployed to aircraft carriers just like aviators do. But they also work on base on North Island in San Diego. Where I work most of the time."

Violet looked stunned. "So there are mechanics who fix the planes in San Diego?"

"Yep," Bradley replied as she clutched one of the blueprints in both hands. "In fact, I saw Marty yesterday, fixing part of a combustion chamber in the hangar when I got out of my jet."

Violet squeaked. "Oh, please, Lieutenant Bradshaw. Please, let us go to work with you one day!"

He started laughing as he turned back to look at you, but you just shrugged in response. "I mean, it would be cool," you mused as the rest of your kids chimed in.

"We could see your Super Hornet with your name on the side!"

"We could see all the airplanes!"

"We could talk to Marty!"

"We learned so much about aviation this year! Please?"

Bradley looked around the room and everyone was looking right back at him, waiting for an answer. When he met your eyes, he asked, "Are they allowed to go on a field trip?"

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

When the final dismissal bell rang and your classroom emptied out, you kicked the door closed, leaving you alone with your boyfriend. "Are you serious right now?" you asked with a smile as he pushed you back against the wall and started kissing your neck. "I inquired about taking a field trip to the Naval base ages ago, and everyone essentially told me it's pretty much impossible."

"Mmm," he hummed against your jaw as you pulled him closer. "If you want it, I'll make it happen, Gorgeous."

Your mind was swirling with too much information that didn't all quite make sense but all sounded beautiful nevertheless. "I want it," you whispered. "I want the field trip, and I want you to come back to my place."

He was running the tip of his nose along your ear, and you were slowly melting. "I don't know if I can wait that long. I haven't seen you in three days," he rasped, making you shiver.

"What are you going to do when you're deployed?" you asked him softly, trailing your fingers through his wavy hair.

Bradley groaned. "Baby, we are not talking about that right now."

His deliberate kisses made their way from your neck to your lips, but after a few seconds, you couldn't hold back any longer. You broke the kiss. "Were you serious? About next summer? You and me?"

Bradley's expression was soft as he ran his thumb along your bottom lip and said, "Okay, that we can talk about." Your heart was hammering in your chest as you kissed the side of his thumb. "Gorgeous," he rasped. "Is it really so crazy that I'm convinced we have a future together?"

"No." Your answer was immediate and sincere, because you already knew you felt the same way. "It's not crazy."

He kissed you hard on the lips before taking a step away from you. "Let's get out of here. I'm not going to be able to behave for much longer."

You were all smiles as you added, "And you're going to need to be fed soon."

"See? You already know exactly how to handle me."

Bradley carried your heavy tote bag and travel mug to your car while you held onto the Super Hornet blueprint, and then he followed you back to your apartment in his Bronco. It was almost comical having him there, taking up so much space in each small room, but your smile vanished when he looked you up and down with those pretty brown eyes.

"We should definitely fool around before we eat dinner," you said, and he immediately had you in his arms.

"A hundred percent," he replied, stumbling along to your bedroom. His flight suit was rough against your fingers, but his kisses were soft and sweet. Half of your clothing was off by the time you reached your bed, but he was still trying to pull one of his long sleeves down his arm.

"This is awkward," he mumbled with a laugh as you unhooked your bra. "This fucking flight suit." His movements slowed even more as he watched you drop to your knees in front of him in just your tiny underwear, and you started untying his boots. You looked up at him as you helped him take them off and tossed them aside, and then you pulled his flight suit down to his thighs. "Oh fuck," he whispered, running his fingers along your cheek as you kissed his erection through his briefs.

With his flight suit around his ankles, you looked up at his face and reached for the elastic waistband of his underwear. "Is this okay?" You tugged them down, his cock springing free, and you ran your lips along the tip, waiting for permission to do more.

"Holy shit," he gasped, yanking his undershirt over his head and nodding enthusiastically. "This is never not going to be okay."

You laughed softly before parting your lips and taking the velvety soft head of his cock onto your tongue. Bradley's eyes were glued to your mouth as you swirled your tongue in deliberately slow circles before taking him a little deeper. He was big and thick, but you took him as far as you could over and over, bobbing your head until your eyes watered.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he groaned when you licked at the strands of your saliva dripping down his balls. "Gorgeous. You're filthy." You looked up at him as you rubbed your cheek against his thigh. "And so damn sweet, Baby."

You nuzzled and kissed along his balls, taking his throbbing cock in one hand and giving him a squeeze. Bradley groaned and readjusted his footing, so you did it again. Now he was muttering your name softly and running his fingers along your hair as you sucked on his balls and jerked him off. He let you go for a few minutes, his abs flexing with each labored breath he took, and then you started to suck his cock again.

"Okay, okay," he eventually rasped, reaching for your shoulders and yanking you carefully to your feet. His cheeks were flushed, and his lips were parted as you turned away from him and got onto your hands and knees on the bed. He made a strangled noise, but as soon as you glanced back at him, he was on you, pulling your underwear to the side.

"Oh my god," you gasped. His hands were a bit rough on your hips as he started to push himself inside you, and he took you just like that. After a few hard thrusts, you were whining for more, legs shaking with need.

Bradley was babbling as he fucked you, his chest pressed to your back, one big hand stroking down the front of your body to your clit. "You're so fucking tight. Holy shit." He kissed along your shoulder. "You smell so good. I love you, Gorgeous." It sounded like he was lost in you, his voice just behind your ear as he pressed two fingers to your clit until you were panting and coming apart.

Even when you were both spent, he pulled you to your feet while he was still buried deep, and you were slightly dizzy from your receding orgasm. His lips were soft on your neck, and he held you to his chest with his big hands on your body. "If you want a North Island field trip for your class, I'll get right on making it happen first thing tomorrow morning."

You melted against him and whispered, "We're not talking about tomorrow yet. Not when I get to spend the whole night with you first. Let's go make dinner." His stomach growled in response, and you kissed him and said, "I love you."

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

This is every kid's dream field trip! I'm actually a little jealous! Bradley better be able to make this happen for his pen pals. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 15

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[vbecker10]

Hey odd request but I have a lot of tummy issues could you write Loki comforting reader with tummy cramps.

Tummy Troubles

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: Loki discovers you curled up in your bed trying to deal with your stomach issues and offers to help you feel better.

Warnings: 🤷‍♀️ stomach issues, mention of throwing up previously, feeling ill but not specific illness mentioned... there will be fluff!

A/N: I'm really really sorry this took so long! I've been having a rough time finding inspiration but last night, while I was curled up in a ball trying not to die from my own stomach issues, I came up with the idea for this fic in an effort to distract myself. Thank you for sending this request! I hope you like it! 💚

Your phone buzzes on your nightstand for the second time and you groan, gripping the sheet around you tighter as your stomach cramps and your body shivers. After what feels like forever, the pain subsidies but you still can't force your body to move so you can reach your phone.

You've been laying curled up in a near fetal position for at least the last hour, even since you dragged yourself back to bed after loosing the battle to keep from throwing up your lunch. Even the slightest movement brings a wave of nausea so you've decided your best bet is to stay perfectly still until you finally fall asleep which will hopefully be soon but you doubt it. You're utterly exhausted but as far from sleep as possible. This is not a new feeling unfortunately, once every other month or so your stomach decides to revolt against you for seemingly no reason.

Closing your eyes tightly, you feel chills run up your spine as your stomach cramps. Your muscles slowly relax and just as you take a deep breath to steady yourself, your phone buzzes for a third time.

You don't need to check it to know who keeps calling, it's Loki. He was due back from his mission roughly half an hour ago and somewhere in the last six months, it became a habit of his to call you to let you know he landed. You thought it was sweet and normally you couldn't wait to hear his voice again but there was no way you would let your ridiculously attractive best friend see you sweaty, nauseous and curled up in pain.

The doors open for the elevator and Loki steps inside, his phone pressed to his ear as he listens to it ring over and over. When he hears your voice mail pick up, he sighs and ends the call without leaving a message.

Putting his phone back into his pocket, Loki walks into the kitchen in the common area in an effort to locate you. Instead, he finds Wanda and Natasha making tea and discussing their plans for the evening.

"Have either of you seen Y/N recently?" Loki asks, trying to keep from sounding overly concerned.

"She didn't come to our last two meetings," Natasha answers. "She's sick, some stomach thing I think."

"Thanks, I'll go check on her," Loki says then he leaves the kitchen, walking down the hall to your apartment.

He knocks, waiting a moment but when you don't answer he lets himself in like he has dozens of times before. He sighs when you're not on the couch like he had hoped you would be. He looks around your dark apartment and realizes that means you're in your bedroom. He walks towards the closed door and pauses.

The door is always closed when he's come over and he often found himself wondering what your bedroom was like or more specifically what your bed was like. What color sheets did you have? Was your mattress soft or firm? Did you sleep on the left side or the right side? What he wondered most often though, was what it would be like to fall asleep with his arms around you. He'd never ask you any of those questions of course but now he was about to find out the answer to most of them.

Loki knocks on your bedroom door, putting his ear to the dark wood and hears a soft groan in response.

Your bedroom door opens slowly and you pull the thin sheet tighter around yourself. Despite your back facing the door, you can immediately tell by the sound of his leather boots that it's Loki.

"Are you okay, love?" Loki asks. "Natasha said you were sick."

"Go away," you mumble, squeezing your eyes closed as your stomach cramps. You feel the bed dip lightly as he sits on the edge and you groan. "Don't move the bed," you force the words out, afraid speaking will trigger your nausea as it often does.

Loki gets up quickly and apologizes, "Sorry."

You can feel him watching you but you can't move to face him. Part of you wants him to leave, close the door on his way out and act like he never saw you here. The other part of you desperately wants him to hold you until you fall asleep.

"Let me help you," he says finally.

"I'm fine Loki, you can go," you say through gritted teeth and the instant you hear your voice you know the God of Lies isn't going to believe that.

"Y/N," he says softly as he sits gently on the bed again, careful not to move it as much as before. "I can make you feel better if you're sick."

"How?" you ask then cringe in pain as your stomach cramps tightly, a second later you feel something unexpected. Loki's chest presses lightly against your back as he lays on your bed next to you.

"I can use my magic to heal you. I've used it to heal wounds and illnesses before," Loki explains as his arm wraps around you, his hand settling on your stomach gently. "Just relax love, this will only take a moment."

You nod but you're body remains stiff, you've spent almost every night for the last three or four months wishing you could lie in bed with Loki but this is not how you wanted it to happen. Your attention is drawn to Loki's fingers as they begin to glow green, his seider spreading slowly over your body.

Almost instantly, your stomach settles as the cramps release and the nausea subsides completely. You find yourself inching closer to Loki as the chills fade and the only things you feel are tired and comfortable. Your hand covers Loki's, his seider fading once the spell has finished healing you.

You nod and smile, "So much better. Thanks Loki."

"Better?" he asks quietly, his lips a few inches from your ear. 'Black cotton sheets, firm mattress, left side of the bed,' Loki thinks, answering the questions he had about your bed, a smile spreads across his lips as his fingers intertwine with yours. The only thing left for him to do was try to hold you for as long as possible since he wasn't sure when our if he'd get to do it again.

Your eyes flutter open. "No," you reply quietly, still holding his hand to keep his arm around your body. "Please stay."

"Of course, love," he answers.

You yawn, closing your eyes for a moment. You've cuddled with previous boyfriends but Loki was so much more comfortable than you had imagined he could be.

"I'll leave so you can rest," Loki suggests even though it's the last thing he wants to do.

He shifts as close to you as he can, thrilled by your request, "Okay love."

You yawn again, struggling to keep your eyes open and in your exhausted state you find yourself asking Loki something you've wanted to know for months. "Why do you keep calling me love? You never call anyone else that."

Loki places a soft kiss to your neck, just below your ear and whispers so quietly you barely hear him, "Because I love you."

You smile as your eyes close and just as you slip off to sleep you whisper back, "I love you too."

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

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[somniseeker]

“ding!” [ undertale x reader ]

series masterlist : [here] | chapter one

summary: you can’t sleep, and at 3:49 AM, a notification pulls you into a mysterious group chat called UnderChat. the members—quirky and chaotic sans au’s like ink, fresh, and error—welcome you as their newest recruit, insisting you’re from an alternate universe. confused but curious, you hesitate to believe them, wondering if you’ve stumbled into the strangest roleplay or something more.

3:49 AM

That was the time, obviously. You were not catching a wink of sleep tonight, even though those eyes of yours were pratically burning at this point. Blinking at the bright light which popped up when you clicked a notifaction. "DING!" echoed the phone on full volume: You were just about to scroll through tumblr aud—

Oh.

Oh. . 

You've been added to a groupchat.

Immediately sitting up you rubbed your eyes, curiousity gleaming in them.

UnderChat 

You don't remember downloading that app. . Perhaps you accidentally clicked on one of those explicit advertisements on accident while reading on pirated websites, that seems like a plausible explanation. Still doesn't explain why you're recieving notifactions saying your in a groupchat. A groan escaped your lips as you clicked the notifaction, although accepting the fact this was some sort of call-out cancel groupchat, an accidental add, or it's fake and it's a virus. Probably the latter.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

[ SLEEPRLUVR has joined the group ]

FunkN'Fresh: wellllp ill be diddly darn darned we gots a new funky fresh membah?

GlitchBitch: Stop typing like that.

FunkN'Fresh: noo can do funny magic maannnnnnnnn

[ GLITCHBITCH has muted the groupchat ]

FunkN'Fresh: you maaaaaaad.

Ink: Oh! New member yay, Okay so I can explain this as your probably confused sans!

Ink: Eheh, "how do you know my name" you might ask! wellllp, yknooow the multiverse and all that stuffs? We made a groupchat!

SLEEPRLUVR: what? 

Ink: Okay so a basic run down of how the app works, the three icon's at the side shows you every AU that has joined so far and what their username is - You need to create a profile with yours!

SLEEPRLUVR: what

Ink: Oh— You must still be confused, I'll just do it for you! What AU are you from?

SLEEPRLUVR: what.

Ink: ...

Fell2cool4school: prolly from "what"!tale lmfao

SLEEPRLUVR: no, just wasn't expecting roleplayers in my schedule today. i can do this - what aus are open?

.

.

.

The chat suddenly went dead silent, leaving you staring groggily at your phone, squinting at the screen. You couldn't help but wonder what was going on. Does it really take this long to grab a character masterdoc? It's been a while since you last roleplayed, but this felt off. When the next message finally popped up, you couldn't help but roll your eyes. 

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Ink: Oh, uh... this isn't exactly roleplay, but I get why you'd think that! Anyway, we’ve got a lot of AUs here, so take your pick! Let’s see… there’s Underswap, Underfell, Dancetale, and even some wacky ones like Dusttale and Underlust, but let’s not go there unless you’re into, well, *that* kind of stuff. 

SLEEPRLUVR: ...i’m just going to ignore that last part.

Fell2cool4school: aww c’mon, why skip out on the fun? 😈

SLEEPRLUVR: This is ridiculous. Okay, so let's say I believe this whole “multiverse” thing. Why am I here?

Ink: Well, every AU needs a representative! Think of it like... a council! Each universe gets one member to join the chat, share ideas, keep peace, y’know? And... well, you’re the lucky one picked from your AU!

SLEEPRLUVR: but i don’t even know what AU i’m from. how am i supposed to “represent” it?

FunkN’Fresh: uhhh doesn’t seem too funkay to me, guess they jus got dropped here like a beeboppin’ newbie!

GlitchBitch: Figures. Another clueless one. Just what we needed.

Ink: Don’t mind them! We’ll figure out your AU together! It’s kinda exciting, right?

SLEEPRLUVR: mmm, more like nerve-wracking. can i leave?

Ink: Nope! Once you’re in, you’re in. But don’t worry, we’re all friends here! ...Sort of.

Fell2cool4school: speak for yourself, inkhead. i ain't here to make friends. only enemies. and sometimes frenemies. but mostly enemies.

SLEEPRLUVR: yyyeah, i’m definitely going to regret this. okay, so if I’m stuck here… how do I create this profile thing?

Ink: Just tell me a bit about yourself, and I’ll set it up for you! Favorite color? Likes? Dislikes? Any cool abilities? C’mon, spill!

SLEEPRLUVR: umm… favorite color? any, I guess. Likes? Sleeping. Dislikes? Waking up. Abilities? being normal???

GlitchBitch: Abilities: None. Fitting.

Ink: rainbow, sleeping, normal. Got it! I’ll just make your profile super quick…

FunkN’Fresh: "likez sleeping" heh. typical standard sans bruh.

[INK is typing…]

Ink: Done! Welcome to the UnderChat, SLEEPRLUVR!

SLEEPRLUVR: …i’m going to need a lot of coffee for this, aren’t I?

FunkN’Fresh: forget coffee, maaaaan. get some soda in yer veins, get the funky fresh groove goin’!

GlitchBitch: Or you could just log off and get back to your irrelevant existence. Just saying.

SLEEPRLUVR: …i’m starting to think leaving this group would be the sanest option.

Fell2cool4school: too late for that, buddy. you're one of us now. welcome to the madness.

     You sat on your bed, legs crossed beneath you, staring at the screen with a mixture of bewilderment and curiosity. That was... ermmm, certainly an experience. These people seemed like some serious kinnies or something. You hadn't seen roleplayers this deep in character since the wild days of Danganronpa Kokichi Tumblr drama. You gnawed at the inside of your cheek, debating your next move. You had things to do in the morning, so maybe it would be smart to just get some sleep. But then again—shouldn’t you figure out which AU to be? They didn’t even give you a proper list of what was available!

     You could at least deduce a few things. Obviously, GlitchBitch was the Error Sans of the group, with his snarky, broken-text vibes. Ink was, well, Ink, and FunkN’Fresh was soo stereotypically hippie, it was a dead giveaway who he was supposed to be. But who else was in this group—this "UnderChat" as Ink called it? And how were you supposed to see these profiles they mentioned? The whole thing was making your head spin, trying to figure it out.

     Still, as you finally set your phone down and pulled your covers over you, you couldn't help but feel a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Yeah, it was weird—being added to some mysterious group chat by what seemed like over-enthusiastic roleplayers—but there was something almost... nostalgic about it. It had been a while since you just sat back and played pretend, no matter how weird the scenario... or old the fandom was.

     Maybe tomorrow you’d hit up the Undertale Wiki and find a cool AU to rp as. After all, if you were going to be stuck here, you might as well have some fun with it.

* A/N: uhm, this was written for ao3 and crossposted on quotev and now we're here. it looks best, imo, on quotev because it comes with extra media!! but im here because ppl can send asks n stuff for extra content of the skellies. please reblog or comment , it helps my motivation

[syrupfog]

It's not hard for Law to pass for an alpha, but that doesn't mean he wants to do it. Dousing himself in pheromones makes him gag, and he knows suppressants aren't good for long term use. 

"You'll get used to it," Doffy had whispered in his ear. "And if you don't? That's too bad."

Doflamingo holds too many things-- too many lives-- over his head. Freedom is a pipe dream for Law. 

"You're going to get me this political alliance with the Goa kingdom," he tells Law, sickeningly sweet. "All you have to do is manage not to be rejected by their prince."

The reality is more complicated than that; of course it is. The third prince of the Goa kingdom is a strong willed omega who's run off every arranged marriage his grandfather has attempted to set up. They have to be desperate if they're looking as far north as Swallow Island.

The good news is that no one that far east will know Law is lying about being an alpha. That's a point in his favour. The bad news is that Law's looking at living a lie... for the rest of his life, for the sake of his friends that he'll likely never see again.

The boat docks at Goa and Law's ushered up to the castle so fast, it's clear they're trying to get this over with before he can back out. 

He meets the three sons (and their grandfather) at dinner, an elaborate affair he has no appetite for (unlike the four of them).

Luffy, the youngest, his betrothed, barely looks at him. He eats what must be double his weight in meat and then takes off, the other two not far behind; at least the oldest asks his name before he runs off. 

Then he's left with the grandfather, the king. That's much worse.

The king says, "He's a handful, but he needs a good strong alpha to put him in his place." 

Law nods. Plays the part. "I'll be what he needs," he says. 

The king laughs. "I like you, boy," he says. "Have a drumstick." 

Law accepts it, but doesn't touch it. He feels queasy.

In the coming days, it's difficult to meet Luffy. It's difficult to even find Luffy most of the time, he's off like a whirlwind every day. When Law does manage it, he finds himself trailing after Luffy, just doing what he can to keep up, while Luffy complains about his scent.

"You reek," he says, frowning childishly. 

'I know,' thinks Law. The pheromones clash with his omega scent terribly. He hates it. 

"I don't want to marry someone who stinks," Luffy says. 

"You'll get used to it," Law says. He sort of doubts it, though.

Then he has to spend a good twenty minutes running to keep up as Luffy's gotten word from his brothers of an underground fighting ring in the city. 

(Luffy beats everyone in the ring and then shuts it down). 

(Law thinks about how Doffy would have encouraged it continuing).

The problem is, as Law follows Luffy day after day, he watches this man do thing after ridiculous thing, and each time the citizens prosper for it. 

The problem is, each time it happens, Law is horrified to find himself falling a little in love. 

That's not part of the plan.

Especially because Luffy doesn't feel the same way. 

The goal was and is still marriage. But looking forward to a spouse that resents him makes Law want to curl up and hide, his omega suffering from the potential rejection already. 

And having to act an alpha the whole time.

But, as long as LAW doesn't formally reject the marriage, Luffy won't have a choice. The date is set for the end of the year. He just has to make it through, follow Doffy's orders, keep his friends safe. An emotional rejection will be fine, Law knows logically it's not personal.

"You've made it longer than anyone else," the middle brother, Ace, tells him at one point. 

"I have to," Law says, before thinking better of it. 

Ace gives him a bemused look. Law wonders how much longer he can live in Goa without even one person (bar their odd king) liking him.

The problem really comes when his heat is due. 

The suppressants keep most of it at bay, but the need for comfort, for an emotional connection of any kind, pulls at him. Dousing himself in alpha pheromones nearly makes him vomit and he has to suppress a whine.

He ends up not seeking out Luffy at all that week, instead holing up in his quarters, desperately hiding inside a nest made of the few things he's kept that smell like home. 

For just a moment, he thinks maybe none of this is worth it, wants to just crawl home, seek comfort.

But then he steadies himself. This isn't about him. 

He doesn't come out for meals, claims he's sick when the servants ask. 

After three days, the door swings open with a bang and Law is startled out of his half asleep state as part of his nest caves in over top of him.

"Hey," says Luffy, crawling into the nest. "You haven't come to see me. Are you leaving?" 

He would prefer that, wouldn't he? 

Because the only person here whose opinion of Law matters hates him. 

Law, to his utter horror, opens his mouth and nothing but a sob comes out.

He's in heat, on suppressants, and being rejected, okay? He curls in on himself, clutching the brim of his hat over his eyes, clenching his teeth to keep from making more noise, although that just leads him to shake harder, overwhelmed. 

"Whoa!" says Luffy. "Shit, what's wrong?"

And then, to Law's utter horror, Luffy says, "Huh. You finally smell good." 

Fuck. He hasn't reapplied the pheromones since he made his nest. 

Everything Law is feeling is broadcasting through his unadulterated scent. 

"I mean, you smell sad. But you smell good. You know?"

Then Luffy is literally crawling over top of him, nuzzling into his neck, releasing a calming scent that Law didn't even know was possible for someone as chaotic as Luffy. 

"Wha—" Law tries, voice cracking from held in tears. 

"I'm making you feel better," Luffy says.

And well, he is— Law's already stopped shaking, eyelids drooping from exhaustion, but—  

"Aren't you— curious? About my scent?" 

"Yeah, sorta" says Luffy. "You smelled all wrong before. But you smell better now. I like it. You should stop spraying that other stuff."

Spraying—

"You knew?" 

Luffy stops nuzzling, blinking down at him. "Knew what?" He tilts his head. "Oh, that you're an omega? Not at first. Ace n' Sabo told me, said they had you ivenstigated 'cause they didn't trust you." 

Awesome. Great. Law's failed. Everything's done for.

"Hey wait," says Luffy. "Your scent's gone all upset again. What's wrong with being an omega?" He puffs up his cheeks. "I’m an omega!" 

"That's exactly what's wrong with it," Law snaps. "Nobody wants two omegas sitting on the throne!" 

Luffy reels back and fixes Law with a glare.

"I don't care what anyone else thinks," he says. "And you shouldn't either! Why do you even want to marry me if you can't even be yourself? What's the point?" 

Law clams up. He can't just— he can't tell him. 

"Traffy," Luffy says lowly, staring down at him with wild, steely eyes.

Law keeps his mouth shut. He thinks, dimly, that this is the first time Luffy's called him by his name (albeit, not quite his name). 

Luffy leans forward slowly, and Law feels like a bug under a microscope. "Traffy," Luffy says. "Who's hurting you?" 

"What?" Law asks, dumbstruck.

"You're not a bad guy," Luffy says. "You're stubborn and a stickinamud, but you're not mean and you don't yell at me." 

Law has definitely snapped at him a few times. 

"You don't yell at me about stuff that matters," Luffy corrects, at his look. "You're a good guy, Traffy. Who's hurting you?"

Law feels a bit like he's a child again, getting grilled by his parents after taking the fall for his sister busting out the window with a ball. 

"I-I—" he tries. "I can't—" 

"Is it that Mingo guy?" Luffy asks, and Law is starting to wonder if Luffy just. Knows everything.

"Ace 'n Sabo told me about him too, that they think you might be a bad guy because he's your dad and he's a bad guy." 

"He's not my dad," Law snaps. He thinks of his father. Thinks of Cora, even. Doffy could never be what they were. 

"Oh," Luffy says. "He's the one hurting you."

"You don't— it's not that simple," Law pleads. Pleads for Luffy to understand. There's no easy way out of this, not when Doffy holds all the cards. He's shaking again, cold like he's outside in the Swallow Island winters. Luffy's calming scent so far away.

"It is that simple," Luffy says. "But that's alright. We can fix it, now that I know. Okay?" He leans down again, slotting his cheeks between Law's neck and shoulder, and—

"You don't care?" Law asks, voice embarrassingly small. "That I'm an omega?" 

Luffy— Luffy laughs.

"You are an omega," he says, like that explains it all. 

"Do you want me to call the wedding off?" Law asks. Luffy holds the cards now. He knows Law's just under duress. 

"Nah," says Luffy. "You're a good guy, and I like you. We'll get married, then I'll kick that guy's ass."

"You can't just—" Law doesn't have it in him to explain just how vast Doffy's networks are, his crime syndicates. He plays both sides of the underworld, rules both of them. 

But— 

If anyone could— 

Law feels crazed. He feels like Luffy isn't real, can't be this... perfect.

"My friends," Law says. "He's going to kill my friends. I can't be the reason they die, Luffy." 

Luffy nods (into Law's shoulder) (He smells like candied bacon). "Okay," he says. "We'll get them out first. Sabo's good at that shit." 

Law is pretty sure Sabo hates him.

"He also doesn't hate you." 

Law is more convinced Luffy is all knowing. 

"He doesn't hate you because I like you, so he has to like you." 

Luffy says things so simply, like there's no option other for them to be true. 

Law doesn't get it, sort of hates it, does believe him.

"Can— I'm in heat, Luffy," Law says, because he's overwhelmed and ten seconds away from another meltdown. "This isn't really appropriate." 

"That's okay," Luffy says. "I don't care about appropriate much, anyway." 

That's true, Law knows that.

The nest smells like back home, and now it smells like Luffy. 

Luffy, who is good, in a way that doesn't make sense. 

Luffy, who is wrapped around him like a jellyfish. 

Luffy, who says he's just going to fix everything. 

Law has nothing to offer him in return.

If— if Luffy manages this, even just to get his friends out— Bepo, Penguin, Shachi... Cora... 

Law's seen him do odd miracles every day. He believes him when Luffy says he'll do this too. 

Shuddering out a breath, Law soaks in Luffy's scent. 

It's sweet, it's omega.

It's strong and powerful and unique to Luffy. 

Law wants to drown in it. 

He whispers a prayer to the forgotten sun god of his childhood island that everything will work out. 

Luffy whispers back that he should go to sleep, because it will.

[kaija-rayne-author]

DAV is maximized (made for?) Tank/Warrior players

Curiosity is absolutely one of my fatal flaws. I was sorta feeling shitty about the whole 'you probably just suck at the fighting system in DAV' thing.

Let me preface this with saying that I'm good with rogues. It's my usual playstyle and I almost always do a first run of any RPG as a rogue.

What I'm really not all that good at? Tanks. Pretty much any other class I'm at least suitably competent with. I mean, I can tank, but it's just not something I'm more than acceptably good at. I also have very little experience with them. I think I've tanked in 3 games? Out of the, it must be hundreds, of games I've played? I just don't prefer to tank. I'm a rogue/mage/healer style player. The one who backs up the tank or keeps them on their feet, y'know?

So, because curiosity will likely be the death of me at some point, and despite never wanting to touch it again, I made a warrior character in DAV. I just... had to know if it was me or the game. I suppose I enjoy actually being a good gamer more than I suspected. DAV offended my pride, perhaps. Self-awareness isn't comfortable.

That fighting system, that I had so much trouble with as a rogue (with other rogues and a mage as backup since we don't get our tank companions til later in act one) has, so far, been so fucking easy as a warrior I'm actually thinking of increasing the difficulty level.

DAV is just maximized for warrior players and people who like to bash barrels in, not any other class. Which is just shitty game design.

I suppose I should have seen it before. The rest of the companions you start with are all support characters. Two rogues and a mage. Your first companion you aquire is Bellara, also a rogue. Oops. Mage. Bellara is a mage. I forgor.

I dunno, I'm going to run this character until I get to the spot (when Harding receives her special ability) where I first wanted to rage quit as a rogue. But so far? I haven't died once. I'd gotten creamed numerous times as a rogue character by this spot in the game. I can go toe to fucking toe with a fucking ogre! And only have to heal once!

It's truly ridiculous. I'll test out mage after, if I can find the patience. It's reasonably unlikely that I'll actually decide to finish this run. Unless I do it for writing my fix it fic reasons . But I can kinda see more clearly why some people actually liked it. It's actually almost fun as a tank.

I did also say I'd never touch DAV again too, though, soooooo.

If you turn your brain completely off, don't give a shit about the Lore, and if the story is a back seat sort of thing for you as a gamer, this might actually be somewhat fun. It's not Dragon Age regardless, they screwed the pooch to sell the pups on that one. (I'm a Lore fiend, story and character first player. I legitimately don't give a shit about the fighting in RPGs. It's a back seat thing for me. As long as I can make it work, I'm good.)

SMDH

I said DAV was wickedly unbalanced in my review series, but I didn’t think it was so bad that they... just didn't bother to make it a fun game for rogue players. Despite them getting rid of half of what makes playing a rogue fun (sneaking, hiding in shadows, picking fucking locks, y'know, rogue stuff.) Not sure about mages yet. I do want to try one just out of pissed off, irritated curiosity, though.

Snorts. They made this game for warrior players. And I can't honestly find words to describe how shitty that is. It lacks most of the stuff that makes any RPG an actual RPG. It's maximized for warriors and people who like to destroy barrels. (Why. Why the fucking barrels?) Rogues are nothing but light skirmishers. I'll have to actually play a mage and see, but I've talked to people who said it's easy as a mage, too.

WTAF does BioWare have against rogue players to nerf the class so badly?

I'm honestly floored by how easy this game is as a warrior. I'll even test it out on max difficulty, (which is usually what I play at, max or one down).

But the shittiness of designing a game mostly for tank players can't be ignored. I changed nothing but the class. And I'm not far enough into the game yet for build to matter that much. I think I've gotten roughly 5 skill points to put into my character.

No wonder they denied game keys to honest reviewers.

[silverynight]

A secret

Tomioka is the first to find out, it's not a surprise actually, ever since Tanjirou came back from his mission in the Red light District and had to spend a lot of time recovering in the butterfly estate the Pillars got to know him better and of course... They fell for him.

Now they try to spend all the free time they have with him; yes, Zenitsu thinks it's incredibly annoying because Tanjirou is his friend and because of that he has to endure watching the Pillars making heart eyes at him.

It's really weird.

However, he's not that irritated because of that, but actually because Tomioka approaches them late at night, after a long training session and he finds Tanjirou asleep, sitting against a tree in the backyard.

Tomioka sees him and because he's just like the others (even though he manages to keep a neutral expression most of the time) he volunteers to take Tanjirou back to his room.

All the hashira would take any opportunity just to touch Tanjirou and Zenitsu knows it; now, he would like to tell him that Inosuke and he can take care of that themselves, but the truth is that he's still too scared of the Pillars to tell them "no" so the water hashira leans closer and lifts Tanjirou up.

Unfortunately, Tanjirou does the thing, the same thing Zenitsu wanted to keep as a secret; so far only Inosuke, Nezuko and he knew about Tanjirou's habit of cuddling anyone who had the fortune of sleeping next to him.

Even asleep, Tanjirou gives the best cuddles and Zenitsu didn't want to share that information with anyone else.

It's too late now though.

Tanjirou smiles in his sleep and nuzzles gently against Tomioka's chest before sighing happily, prompting the hashira to freeze and turn bright red.

"Does he always do that when he's asleep?"

Zenitsu has the feeling that the water hashira would know if he lied so he answers reluctantly.

"Yes. I think... I think it's because he had many siblings," he mumbles; he knows he was the oldest so the little ones probably went to him for comfort in the middle of the night whenever they had a bad dream.

"I see... Maybe I should stay with him in his room, he'll probably sleep better if someone is cuddling him–"

"Then he'll feel more safe if he feels someone like me cuddling him..."

To Zenitsu's irritation not only Uzui is there but the other Pillars as well.

He can hear their interest as well as their jealousy while Tanjirou sighs and nuzzles against Tomioka again.

This is not fair, Tanjirou only becomes physically affectionate in his sleep around Zenitsu and Inosuke and it feels wrong to have to share that with nine people who are going to use that information as much as they can.

Kanroji is about to pout and say something when Tomioka stops her before she can speak.

"Don't wake him up. Listen, I'll sit here so he can sleep on my lap and after a couple of minutes one of you takes my place. We can share."

Everyone agrees, which is not a surprise because they're ridiculously besotted at this point and would do anything to have Tanjirou in their arms.

Rengoku is almost shaking with excitement; that hashira doesn't know the meaning of personal space, especially around Tanjirou, so being given the opportunity to hold the boy so close to him is doing things to him.

They all are ridiculous, even Shinazugawa, the scariest hashira is there, waiting for his turn to cuddle Tanjirou like he's a wild, grumpy cat who's starving for affection.

Fortunately, Inosuke comes running towards them and screams "Monjiro!" before any of the Pillars can do something about it.

Even Himejima looks displeased with the interruption.

"Inosuke? Oh, Tomioka-san! Sorry, did I fall asleep on you?" Tanjirou quickly moves away and sits on the ground instead before noticing the others. "Oh, hi!"

"Don't mind us, Tanjirou," Tokito says. "You go back to sleep again if you're tired."

"Maybe I should go to my room then..."

"No!" Iguro blurts out and blushes as soon as he realizes what he did. "I mean you can stay here... We don't mind."

"You can sit on my lap, my boy! It's really comfortable!"

"My wives want to see you again, Tanjirou. Why don't you stay with us for a couple of days?"

"I can teach you meditation that'll help you sleep more peacefully," Himejima offers at the same time the others speak.

Zenitsu rolls his eyes.

"It's fine. I'll go to Nezuko's room actually..."

Even Kocho groans at that, they know they have no chance against the demon girl; she won't let any of them near her brother.

That's one of the things Zenitsu loves about her. However, he knows the next days, maybe weeks aren't going to be easy; he can tell everyone is already planning how to make Tanjirou fall asleep near them.

It's going to be a nightmare.

***

Patreon

[kawaiiblossoms04]

Title : A Rose in a Gilded a Cage |Sukuna x Reader

🌸 A little teaser while upcoming chapters roll out! 🌸

This is exactly why I write ahead—I’ve got a few chapters piled up, so I can keep updates weekly (or sometimes bi-weekly!) 🥰 But then… there’s the dreaded editing process. 😩

Stay tuned—more is coming soon! 💕

You raised an eyebrow at him, hesitant. "What?" you muttered suspiciously, shifting slightly in your seat.

Sukuna tapped his lap with a self-assured smirk. "Here. Sit."

Your face heated instantly. "Mmph! What—No—"

But before you could protest further, his strong hands grabbed you, pulling you between his legs. Your breath hitched as he steadied you in place, his touch firm yet unhurried.

"You're awfully stiff," he remarked, his voice laced with irritation. "Just sit and lean against me. We've traveled long and far to get here. The least you can do is relax." He shifted slightly, resting his cheek against his propped-up elbow, his other arm curled around your waist.

His muscular frame exuded a strength that could easily overwhelm your smaller frame. You flushed bright, burning red at the realization, feeling an uncomfortable heat swell over your cheeks, burning your ears and body, aware of how close and near you were, even pressed up against him. You sighed softly as your own back was settled against his hard muscles, you could practically feel everything under his shirt.

The rise and fall of his chest pressed against your back sent tingling warmth through your spine, his breath brushing your scalp with each steady exhale. You slowly turned slightly to steal a peek at the stoic man, a shiver climbing up your back when his scarlet eyes met yours.

"Y'know," Sukuna began, his deep baritone rumbling against your back, the vibration of his voice sending another shiver through you. "Most women would be thrilled I'm touching them. Not scowling and acting like they're disgusted, like you always do."

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at his ridiculous arrogance. His confidence was as absurd as it was irritating.

Without thinking, you tried to wiggle out of his grasp, attempting to make a fuss, but his arm tightened around you. He raised an eyebrow, his expression neutral, though his grip made it clear you weren't going anywhere.

"Really? Is this necessary—" you started, only to be cut off as his arm pressed firmly across your upper torso, keeping you securely in place.

"Hmph. Yeah, it is," he replied in his usual monotone drawl. "Consider this part of your punishment. Maybe even a little training considering. You keep talking back, acting like a spoiled brat, and I'll keep disciplining you as I see fit. I didn't agree to let you run wild and do whatever you please."

He leaned back lazily against the carriage wall, his posture exuding a maddeningly casual dominance.

"Yes, but—" Your words were abruptly silenced when his hand slipped under you, giving your butt a firm squeeze before releasing it. The act was deliberate, and the silent message it sent made your breath hitch in your throat.

Your cheeks flared, burning a deep pink as he adjusted you on his lap. His large hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer as he spread his legs slightly further, settling you securely in a way that felt all too natural. You were trapped, held in place as if this were the most normal thing in the world.

"But nothing," Sukuna snapped, his tone cutting. "I don't take kindly to you airing out our private affairs or trying to make my little brother feel sympathy for you. And I especially don't want other men hearing about what happens between us—my intimate and private affairs," he added, his gaze narrowing dangerously. His crimson eyes dared you to deny his words.

You shut your mouth with an indignant huff before retorting, your voice sharp.

"What's wrong with showing affection or saying hi though? Huh?" You frowned deeply, your lips puffing out in a pout. "Yuji didn't mind one bit. I bet he found it cute and harmless. You're the one with issues—you always have been. As I said when I first met you, you're nothing but a stalker and a pervert."

He scoffed at the remark, his lips peeling back into a sneer as your fiery defiance stirred both his irritation and amusement.

You shot him a pointed glare before turning away, facing forward in the seat. Sukuna huffed an amused grunt behind you, his steady breathing a stark contrast to your pounding heartbeat.

"Fuck, I could crush you so easily and just be done with you," he growled, his large hands tightening possessively over your hips.

"And what's stopping you?" you snapped, huffing in annoyance. You grimaced, squirming in his grip, trying and failing to remove his arms that seemed to be imprinted into your hip bones. No matter how much you wriggled, Sukuna didn't budge. His biceps flexed, the veiny muscle rippling under his skin. Against your better judgment, you found it attractive, your eyes lingering for a moment before you tore your gaze away, frustration bubbling over.

"You know why," Sukuna hissed, leaning forward, his crimson eyes glinting with a predatory edge as he tilted his head closer to you. His thumb traced the dip of your pelvis, the rough pad of his finger lingering before trailing lower, brushing dangerously close to the crease of your inner thigh. His smirk deepened.

"What are y—Sukuna!" Your voice cracked with panic.

"Hm?" he rumbled, his tone low and husky, as his hand slipped under your robe. His rough fingers grazed the soft flesh of your thighs, pushing upwards in a deliberate motion. Your breath hitched as he exposed your pussy, his crimson eyes darkening as the delicate aroma of your sex filled his senses. He adjusted you effortlessly, positioning you so your ass pressed firmly against his crotch. The gown bunched up around your stomach, leaving you exposed as his forearm hooked under your knee, parting your legs with ease.

"Perfect," he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

"Stop—what are you doing? Someone could see!" Panic laced your voice as you pushed against him, struggling to free yourself from his hold. Your protests only made him chuckle, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest.

"You—get away." you struggled against his embrace and reached to take hold and rip his fingers off, stopping his ministrations. He pinned you to him in a stronger hold, chuckling at the panicked and flushed expressions you were displaying.

"You better stop because if you keep squirming like that, and I'll make sure they hear exactly how much you like it," he murmured, his lips grazing your ear.

Your struggling grew more and more fruitless as you shoved at his shoulders and wriggled on his lap.

His hand shot up, gripping your chin roughly and forcing your head back.

Your eyes snapped up to meet his.

"I said..." he growled, his voice a low, menacing rasp, "Stop."

All rights reserved © 2025 KawaiiBlossoms. Do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works on any platform.

A Rose in a Gilded Cage

[hesawifebeaterdanusethegun]

Doing the Unstuck

Okay here's the beginning of my Evan Green fic, Doing the Unstuck! I'll warn you now, this series will get NSFT (what else is new lol)

The AO3 Version

Chapter One:

“I’m quitting, Joan. I’m not going back to the show,” said Evan quietly. He sat at the glass topped kitchen table, leaning forward and resting his elbows on it. He wore a green and blue flannel shirt and the rest of his signature costume, that monkey suit. He’d just gotten home from the city where he’d done yet another radio interview to promote the book he was supposed to be working on. He hadn’t even started it, every time he tried to take himself back to that cement room where he was zip-tied to a chair and tortured for days to please the vindictive former President, who held a personal vendetta against him, he woke up screaming on the floor, sometimes among the wreckage of a room that he didn’t remember destroying.

It terrified the kids, not to mention Joan, who had been understanding when he’d come home from his ordeal a shell of his former self, but had quickly lost patience with him. She’d done everything she could as far as she was concerned, but all she’d really done is refuse to give him a fucking break from the talk shows and the podcasts and the magazine interviews and let him rest. He couldn’t take it anymore and he’d decided to tell her tonight.

She was pacing the kitchen going over his grueling interview schedule, making suggestions and giving him ideas for each one, going over merchandising ideas and practically already counting the wad of cash she anticipated making from what he’d gone through. It made him furious but there was no fight left in him to express it. He was broken and he knew it. He sat calmly while he watched her pace the room. He looked down at his hands as he waited for her reaction. She stopped pacing and looked at him.

“What did you just say?” she asked.

“I said I’m done. I can’t do this anymore, the spotlight, the interviews, all of it. I’m done, Joan,” he answered. He put his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair, leaving it a disheveled mess.

“You just need to get back on the horse, Evan. Don’t be ridiculous.” She continued her overwhelming stream of consciousness, once again pacing the room.

He waited patiently and silently until she trailed off into silence and stopped walking around the room like she’d snorted an Adderall or two that morning (which she very well may have, it wouldn’t be the first time).

“You’re really serious aren’t you? You think you can just quit, just like that? You think I’ll let you walk away from everything we’ve made here?” she scoffed.

“I’m really serious,” was all he said, taking his head out of his hands and looking up at her. He took off his glasses, set them down on the table and started to unbutton his flannel shirt. “I’m done.”

“Evan you can’t do this to us, to me,” she’d teared up then.

“I can’t do it anymore, I don’t know what else you want me to say,” he answered, unmoved and not allowing himself to be manipulated. She’d gotten angry then, called him some nasty things that couldn’t be taken back, and they’d gone to bed, sleeping in separate rooms that night, not for the first time since he’d come home. She’d gotten tired of him waking up shouting and keeping her up at night with his thrashing in bed, so he’d been relegated to the guest room.

The next morning he’d woken to her gone and a note telling him not to be there when she came home with the kids. He’d gone to the bedroom and packed a bag, leaving before the hour had passed. Over the next six months, a bitter divorce took place in which she’d taken him for over half what he was worth, including the rights to The Evan Green Show and all the merchandising that came along with it. He hadn’t seen his kids since he’d left. They were afraid of him, she claimed during the custody battle, apparently convincingly enough for a judge to rule that he should get no visitation.

He'd gone back to his apartment after the divorce was finalized, poured himself several drinks, and passed out in his recliner in front of the television, a nature documentary playing to a dark room while he snored. That had been his routine for weeks from that point on, drinking himself to sleep on his chair and feeling sorry for himself. He’d managed to snap himself out of his state of perpetual self-pity after nearly a month of sulking. He got up out of his chair, got a shower, shaved the beard that had gone weeks without trimming, and got dressed that day.

He’d found work as a news blogger for a well-known newspaper in the city using a pen name to keep his anonymity and had a small podcast that he hosted from a corner of the bedroom in his apartment, again using a fake name, which had gathered a bit of a following, but hadn’t grown beyond what he’d aimed for, what he could handle. In it he stuck to empirical facts, and provided absolute proof for everything he spoke of. He wouldn’t touch a conspiracy theory with a ten-foot-pole these days and he didn’t plan to change that any time soon. He lived quietly like this for a few years, keeping to himself and rarely leaving his apartment.

He survived on TV dinners, takeout, and anything he could pick up at Hank’s, the corner shop on his block owned by an old man with a white beard and a faint Irish accent who he’d befriended over the years. Hank’s was one of the few places Evan left the house to go to, and Hank was one of the only people he regularly talked to. They’d bonded over a love of birdwatching. Evan had taken up the hobby at the suggestion of his therapist before he’d given up on therapy altogether. The therapy hadn’t helped him but the birdwatching had, it calmed him like nothing else had since losing his whole life and having to start over from scratch. Not only did it get him out of the apartment for a while, it gave him time to think as he walked the paths of the parks around the city alone.

He settled into some semblance of a routine in his life, juggling his podcast, his writing, and making time for a walk in the park every once in a while to clear his head. He saw Hank several times a week at least, when he picked up small items from the store. He still tended to avoid sleeping, leading to a heavy caffeine addiction and some unhealthy circadian habits.

Several years after the events of Zero Day

Evan woke to the sound of rain on his dingy bedroom window. It was going to be another cold, grey October day. He rolled over and blearily peered at the red numbers displayed on his alarm clock. It was half past noon. He rolled out of bed and grabbed his tattered robe from the slightly less tattered wooden chair that sat in the corner of his bedroom. He ran a hand through his hair as he walked to the bathroom, afterward making his way through his small apartment to the even smaller kitchen with a hideous orange and yellow motif that had been ugly when it was installed, probably the year Evan was born.

He flipped a switch and yellow light filled the room. He stepped to the small countertop where his coffee maker stood. He opened a cupboard and groaned. Out of coffee. Fuck. He’d have to go to Hank’s and pick some up. That meant actually getting dressed and going out today. He walked to the bedroom, shoulders hunched, and opened the top drawer of his dresser, choosing a purple and blue striped button up shirt and a pair of black jeans. He grabbed his phone and wallet and pocketed them both. He went to the stairs leading down to the door and sat down, putting on a pair of black and white Adidas and standing to leave. He grabbed his keys from the hook by the door, grabbed a slightly weathered brown leather jacket and headed outside into the rain. He didn’t bother bringing an umbrella, he only had to walk about fifty feet.

He put his hands in his pockets as he walked down the sidewalk to the corner. A small bell announced his arrival as he walked through the door. A woman stood behind the counter with no sign of Hank around. Evan grabbed a small can of coffee and brought it to the front of the store, setting it down in front of the woman, really looking at her for the first time. She was shorter than him by about six inches or so, and wore a plain blue t-shirt beneath a black zip-up hoodie. Her hair was short and very dark brown, nearly black, her eyes a deep forest green behind thick-rimmed brown glasses, similar to the ones that Evan had worn on television for so long. He physically shook away the thought. She smiled at him.

“Hi, how are you?” she asked as she took the coffee from the counter, checking the price tag and typing in the price on the ancient cash register that Evan couldn’t get Hank to replace with a more modern one. Before he had a chance to answer Hank walked in, all smiles as he usually was. Hank wore a light blue collared shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, with a navy blue and grey sweater vest over it. A green and blue plaid flat cap covered his balding head.

“Evan! I see you’ve met my niece, Michaela,” he smiled at Evan warmly. “This is my friend Evan, Mikey,” he told her.

“Oh I’ve heard about you, Uncle Henry talks about you all the time. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Mikey,” she said, coming around the counter to stand in front of him. Evan shook her hand.

“Evan, nice to meet you,” he gave her a small crooked smile as he spoke.

“Mikey will be running the shop from now on, Evan. It’s time for this old man to retire, but I know Mikey will take good care of you,” he told Evan jovially.

“Congratulations, Hank,” said Evan, holding out his hand to shake. The bigger man pulled him into a tight hug instead. As he let go a tall, thin man dressed in a white t-shirt and blue jeans walked into the shop. He looked at the three of them for a few seconds before speaking to Mikey.

“You got any Camel Wides?” he asked in a raspy voice. She left the aisle they had been standing in as they talked and took her place behind the counter. She turned around to check the wall of cigarettes behind her, finding the brand the man was searching for a few moments later.

“Yeah, we have those,” she answered, pulling a pack from the dispenser on the shelf.

“Lemme get a pack of those,” he said as Mikey set down the blue and white cardboard pack of cigarettes. “And I’ll take all the money in the register, sweetheart,” he finished, pulling a Glock 20 from the back of his jeans and pointing it at Mikey’s face.

Mikey froze, unsure what to do.

“Hey now, let’s just calm down,” said Hank, taking a step forward towards the man, arms held up.

“Shut the fuck up and don’t fuckin’ move,” said the man, turning the gun on Hank and Evan, who raised their hands and stood stock still, barely daring to breathe.

“Okay, okay,” said Hank, stopping his approach.

“Just take what you want, nobody’s gonna stop you, okay? Just take it and go,” said Evan, hands still in the air and heart beating out of his chest.

Mikey got the register open and started stacking the cash on the counter. The man grabbed it and ran through the door, the bell tinkling as he left.

“Thank you,” he yelled over his shoulder as he fled.

Mikey ran over to Hank as soon as the door shut behind the thief, pulling her uncle into a tight hug that he gladly returned. Evan stood next to them, speechless at what had just happened. Hank let go of Mikey and stood there, his breathing heavy and a little labored.

“Hank, you okay?” asked Evan, looking him over.

“I think I need to sit down for a minute,” said Hank, still out of breath. His forehead shone with sweat and he reached across himself with his right hand to grip his left arm with a grimace. Mikey grabbed the plastic chair that sat in the corner behind the counter and brought it over. Hank took a seat.

“I’m okay, just… need a minute,” he grunted as he sat down. Evan pulled out his phone and called 911. He walked outside to finish the call and returned a minute or two later.

“An ambulance is coming, so are the police,” Evan told them when he came back in. He squatted in front of Hank and put a hand on his shoulder. “You doing okay, buddy?”

“Yeah I’ll be fine, I just need to…” Hank fell out of the chair onto the tile floor.

“Uncle Henry!” Mikey said, brows furrowed and kneeling next to him.

“I’m fine, dear, I’m gonna be fine,” Hank reassured his niece. He turned to Evan.

“You should go before the police get here, we don’t want anyone finding out who you are and where you live, my friend,” said Hank. He sighed once and didn’t inhale again. Evan knelt on his other side, placing two fingers on his friend’s neck. No pulse. Probably a heart attack. Fuck. He looked up at Mikey and shook his head to the unspoken question on her face.

“You should do what he said, Evan,” said Mikey.

“I could stay, really I –

“You should go, Mr. Green. Do what he said,” Mikey interrupted him through her tears. “I’ll tell them a random guy off the street was who called 911, and that I didn’t get his name. You can go home.”

“I… thank you,” he said quietly before rushing to the door. He let himself out quietly and rushed to his apartment door through rain that had gotten heavier since he’d left about twenty minutes earlier.

Chapter Two

[amoransia]

Really late, but here's my ekuoto chapter 70 commentary. Nothing special, just me freaking out. You know. The usual.

Watch out for spoilers!

Dante got a very special dialogue balloon with "..." in it. Which is curious to me. I'm sure it means some sort of reflection or surprise happening within him; I really want to what he's thinking. How do you feel? Knowing that the that child you were entrusted can't even bear to be awake anymore? That he runs to escapism? Must suck. Anyway.

On the other hand, dearest Daniel is real composed. Good job on getting info out of Belphegor. That's not really a high bar, though lmao... I mean, how are you a demon and can't LIE? Embarrassing... Go back to demon high school or something. Fall from grace again! The whole premise of your existence is being a lying thing that leads people to sin, and you're here having communication issues??? Dude. That's so moe.

Everyone thinking Belph's got something up his sleeve is fucking hilarious. No. Sorry. He's not Kira or anything like that. It's not all according to his "keikaku". He's just kinda dumb and suffers from Villain Monologue Syndrome...

Him saying "my witch", though... ough! (takes critical hit)

Really funny how he showed him off sleeping and everything. Why are you bragging? Is this something to show off? I guess it is for you... I'd be embarrassed if all my coworkers suddenly saw me sleeping on a plasma 100" inch TV, though. Maybe have a little consideration! Also, I don't think anyone's mentioned this before, but I think it's a cool detail that Priest's in a fetal position. Not only does this position bring one comfort, but it can also represent how he's about to be "reborn" as a witch of Sloth. The sphere he's sleeping in can kinda be a uterus, right?

Belphegor and Mikhail replying to each other while Leah was suffering out of confusion was funny. She got the straight man role forced onto her. Miha's "I see!" was cute. Very casual, as if he wasn't talking to a Demon Lord lol. To be fair, Bel is not really intimidating.

Meanwhile, Vir is busy trying to lead his shounen manga team to victory... (or not really.) They'll definitely get some piece of Belphegor though. I wonder what it'll be... he doesn't have anything like Asmodeus' eyes sticking out, so this is a mystery to me.

Me when I get excited about an interest of mine and end up yapping too much

Dante and Vergilius are heading to the same place, so they'll meet up again... I'm looking forward to the mess that comes out of that 👀.

Imuri needs to step up her game, or I'll be taking matters into my own hands because this is ridiculous. Femme Fatale? Wtf are you talking about. Fraudmuri. The Demon Lord of Fraud. Her true title.

Her biggest crime so far is being more in love with the idea of being in love with Priest than actually caring for him. Does that make sense? So far, she hasn't done any effort in actually coming to know him. She needs to KNOW!!!! At least I can respect that she also takes male rivals seriously... and her aggressiveness towards them. Lole.

She doesn't call Priest "sleepyhead" in the JP raws. I don't really mind the addition, but I thought it was worth noting here anyway. Makes it cute.

"It'll be over soon" Naw bro Imuri is coming at you with a fucking sledgehammer. Watch out.

Tiny Imuri is so fawking cute. I've been craving these Imuri flashbacks for forever because we know virtually nothing about her. What moves her. Why does she long to love!! We'll know in due time, I guess. But please show me a bit of it, Aruma-sensei...

Asmodeus being considerate enough to make sexual things vague to Imuri is nice, but it confuses me a bit. Well. I shan't dwell on it, lest my head blows up.

Imuri seems to have some complex about being a demon with no demon power, because she keeps asserting that she is a demon? Am I explaining this properly? Like in this chapter (ch.70) and chapter 3.

Anywho.

Imuri imagining the BL route... save me... my fucking sides... I burst out laughing the first time my eyes laid on that panel. True to her succubus nature, she didn't even consider the possibility of them using blood or whatever else instead of straight-up KISSING. Those are still bodily fluids, right?? Calm down, girl! Stay put!!!

"I'm not letting his first kiss go to some guy that just appeared!!" HE'S BEEN THERE FOR A DECADE! YOU ARE THE NEWCOMER!!! IMURI, GIRL!! You absolute buffoon! Clown, even!

Whew. Lmao.

This arc also feels like a callback to that one "sleeping beauty" comment from chapter 3.

...except their roles have switched.

This time, Imuri will be the one kissing Father on the cheek to wake him up, and it'll be so, so cute. Trust. Trust me. This will happen. (Going insane).

Go and make him your witch, Imuri... Dew it... Make a move... (screaming and crying)

[sosa2imagines]

I know where I belong. Part 5

Warnings- Fluff for everyone, tiny mention of Steve.

You had finally moved on from the pain Steve had caused you. Speaking of Steve, ever since he returned to the tower, he had been sent on back-to-back missions, and Miss Sharon was too busy climbing the career ladder to be around much. Good for you.

You didn’t have to see them often or hear their stupid moans.

Now, it had become a daily routine for you and Bucky to spend your nights together. You mostly surrounded yourself with Bucky, Nat, Wanda, Sam, and Tony, your own little happy family.

Bucky made sure you were in good health, both mentally and physically. You went for runs together, meditated together, trained together.

But neither of you realized how difficult it was becoming to control yourselves around each other.

Bucky was still stuck on his ridiculous idea of running off to Wakanda, while you had made it your mission to keep every trainee and any other woman except Nat and Wanda, as far away from him as possible.

Being with Bucky felt different now. His presence made your body heat up, and your stomach flipped with every slight touch. Bucky, ever the tease, never let you live down your blushing. And, oh lord, on shirtless days, you blamed the weather, the training room, or even the air itself—anything to keep your mind from spiraling. But nothing made sense.

One particularly boring night, when neither of you could sleep, you challenged Bucky to sing. Smirking, he played a Bruno Mars song.

"Can I have this dance, ma’am?" he asked, bowing dramatically and offering his hand.

You laughed, clearing your throat before playing along. "Well, yes, kind sir."

He took your hand, pulling you into a slow sway as he hummed along.

"I ain't playing no games Every word that I say is coming straight from the heart So if you tryna lay in these arms I'ma leave the door open…"

On the last twirl, you crashed into his chest. His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

"Bucky..." you whispered, your breath fanning against his face.

"Y/n..." he murmured, his gaze dropping to your lips.

Just as he leaned in, someone cleared their throat.

Steve.

You didn’t even bother hiding your frustration, glaring at him while he shot both of you a disapproving look. Before he could say a word, Bucky grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the room, not sparing Steve a second glance.

But even as you walked away, your mind replayed the moment over and over. What would’ve happened if Steve hadn’t interrupted? Would your friendship change? Would you be more than friends?

Stupid Steve.

Little did you know, Bucky was thinking the exact same thing.

Both of you were still flustered, and neither of you let go of the other's hand. As you walked, voices from the lab caught your attention. Tony. On rare nights, he crashed at the tower.

"I'll meet you in the kitchen," Bucky said. You nodded and went to find Tony.

"Hey, Tons," you whispered, making Tony jump.

"Jesus! Have mercy on me!" He clutched his chest.

"What are you doing here? Why aren’t you home?"

Tony scoffed, but when you raised a brow, he sighed. "Pepper and I had a fight."

"What? Why? What did you do?"

"Why does everyone assume it’s my fault?"

You deadpanned. "Maybe because you’re Tony Stark?"

"Damn right," he muttered. "Anyway, we were supposed to go out tomorrow, and I forgot. I tried fixing it, but our babysitter isn’t available."

"I’ll look after Morgan!" you offered without hesitation.

"You will?" he asked, hope lighting his face.

"Yeah. Me and Bucky can babysit. We don’t have missions or paperwork."

"Tin Man's okay with that?" Tony smirked. "Apart from babysitting you?"

"Tony!" you warned, making him laugh.

"But really, you both can watch her?"

"Of course. I miss my goddaughter."

Tony pulled you into a brotherly hug. "You’re a lifesaver."

"Anything for family."

"Speaking of family, what are you doing up so late? Terminator asleep?"

You glared, and Tony mock-surrendered. "Fine, Barnes?"

"He’s in the kitchen," you mumbled, blushing.

Tony noticed. "Late-night dinner date?"

"About that… I need your advice."

"I’m all ears."

You spilled everything—the jealousy, your growing feelings, tonight’s almost-kiss.

"Stupid Steve," Tony muttered.

"Exactly!" You high-fived him.

"But don’t you think I’m falling for Bucky too soon?"

Tony shook his head. "Y/N, not feeling anything for Steve anymore doesn’t mean you didn’t love him. It just means you’ve moved on. You went through pain, but now it’s time to gain. And if you’re falling for Bucky, that’s okay. Also, no offense, but if Golden Boy could cheat, you can definitely move on. Take your time. Feel this new beginning."

You blinked, overwhelmed by his words.

"Marriage and parenthood made you wise," you teased. "I love you, Tony."

Before he could respond, you hugged him. "Bring Morgan tomorrow. Go to sleep."

Tony watched you leave with a smile.

When you entered the kitchen, Bucky sat at the dining table, head down. You sat across from him, reaching for his hand.

He looked up, giving you a small, sad smile. You squeezed his palm.

"Y/N, I didn’t mean to make things awkward…"

"You didn’t, Buck. We’ve been dancing around our feelings for too long. We need to talk."

Bucky nodded. Silence stretched between you before, at the same time, you both blurted out,

"I think I’m falling in love with you." "I think I’m falling in love with you."

Your eyes widened. His did too.

Bucky spoke first. "I don’t know when I started falling for you, but…" He hesitated, fidgeting with his sleeve.

You placed your hand over his. "Bucky, even I don’t know when or how, but I do know that I love you."

Tears welled in both your eyes.

"Y/N, you’re trying to move on, and I don’t doubt your feelings, but I don’t want to take advantage of the situation."

"Bucky, I don’t even remember when I stopped thinking about Steve. He’s not in my heart or mind anymore. You are."

His breath hitched. A tear rolled down his cheek, and you wiped it away, though your own tears kept falling.

"Doll, I don’t think I have a heart. All I know is pain."

"Bucky, do you know why you feel pain?"

He shook his head.

You chuckled softly. "Because when you have a heart, there will be pain. And where there’s pain, there’s also love."

Bucky exhaled shakily. "It’s a sweet difficulty, isn’t it, Doll?"

You nodded. "Yes. But we can overcome it together."

Bucky’s hands cradled your face. "I love you, Y/N."

You smiled through your tears. "I love you too, Buck."

His lips met yours in a soft, lingering kiss. Foreheads pressed together, you both sniffled before chuckling.

"Doll, go on a date with me tomorrow?"

"I’d love to, but not tomorrow."

"Why?" He pouted.

You kissed his pout, making him blush. "Because tomorrow, we’re babysitting Morgan."

His brows furrowed.

"It’s a long story," you laughed.

"I’m not sleepy." he smirked.

"Then I’ll tell you."

Part 6 (Part 5 is here lovely people, I hope you all enjoy. Please as always comments and feedbacks are appreciated. If you have any requests let me know. Pretty soon we will get rid of Sharon, just hang in there. 😅❤️)

[katyakurae]

The deal, chapter 19 sneak peek

"'The weirdest proposal in Hell's history' " reads Angel, as he scrolls down the headlines, " 'The King of Hell and The Radio Demon, the couple that wasn't in your bingo this year but won't leave you indifferent.' 'Spreading your legs for the Devil and Other Tricks to Climb Hell's Social Hierarchy.' 'The Radio Demon is a whore and so far no one has noticed.' 'About the King's divorce and other lies from the palace, how much does the Queen know about her new rival?' Do I keep reading?"

[...]

"Fuck." Angel Dust is the first to break the silence, stretching out his vowels until he runs out of air in his lungs. "You two are really out of your mind, sweethearts. Besides, what the Hell? You guys are toxic as shit!" The words come down like a bucket of cold water, precisely cause they are true. They both flinch as if they've been hit, Lucifer grits his teeth and Alastor's eyelid twitches again. He struggles to keep his ears up and, although they succeed, a slight tremor escapes from the tips. They know, they both know. That's not so much the problem as suddenly being exposed. Lucifer opens his mouth to explain that they're working on it, but, of course, Alastor wouldn't be Alastor if he didn't take advantage of every loophole to strike back. In part, he's fascinated by it. "Considering your latest ex is none other than Valentino himself," the Radio Demon hisses, viciously, but Angel just crosses his bottom pair of arms and leans his hip against the bar. Husk shakes his head to himself, but doesn't dare talk, "I don't think you're one to reprimand us, Angel, dear." "That's exactly why, dammit! I've been there. I know what it's like," he tells them, and no matter how much they surpass him in power and strength, Angel doesn't back down. "Why the fuck are you doing this to yourselves? You hate each other, it doesn't make any sense!" Silence. Thundering. "Wait... you hate each other, don't you?"

More silence. The porn star's does the math slightly faster than the rest of the crew, although expressions of surprise and disbelief soon become the tone of the room. Alastor purses his lips tight and Lucifer feels the lump in his throat that has suddenly come threatening to take his breath away. He should answer. Alastor should answer truthfully and say yes, of course he hates him, detests him. So why does he keep so quiet? Because, after all, this is the same demon who has dawned cuddled up to him, snuggled against his chest, dressed in his bathrobe. "Holy fuck. I'll be damned... Did you guys fall in...?" "Don't you dare jump to ridiculous, hasty conclusions, Angel, or it'll be the last thing you say before I rip out your tongue and steam it with oyster sauce. I make a sensational stew, don't you want to become the secret ingredient."

[prick-up-ur-ears]

Saw your post asking for imodna prompts, how about BH meeting up with Ira again on the moon with Imogen getting jealous because of how enamored Laudna seems with him?

Or... Imogen and Laudna finally having a conversation about everything that's happened (e.g. Imogen's comment about how she finds the thought of Delilah always being in the background watching them disgusting, Laudna saying she doesn't know what's her and what's Delilah anymore, casting Hunger of the Shadow on the Willmaster after saying that their power should have gone to her instead of Orym, etc.)

Or any kind of fluff or hurt/comfort, I'll be happy to read anything!

Thanks for the prompt!

This ended up being harder than I thought because I couldn't quite figure out where I wanted to take it but I think I'm okay with how it ended up.

You can also read this bad boy on AO3 !

----

“So what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

After Fearne came back through the portal, and much deliberation, they had decided to sleep in the underground temple before all going to investigate what was on the other side of the portal. Now, Imogen sits with her back against one of the tall, jagged stone walls. She doesn’t take her eyes off Laudna while the conversation continues around her, not paying any attention to what is being said. Laudna is across the room from her. Not next to her. Not even near her. Practically as far as she can be in the large space. 

She’s fiddling with the elven doll she found, pushing and pulling on the limbs to see how they bend, inspecting the clothing. She pulls Paté’s birdhouse onto her lap and gently tucks the doll inside, then carefully places the whole thing on the ground next to her. 

When she looks up, her eyes find Imogen’s immediately. They dart away in an instant, towards where the conversation is moving along without them. It stings, more than a little. Imogen pulls her knees up, folds her arms on top of them, and leans forward to rest her chin on her forearm.

Everything feels majorly fucked right now.

It hasn’t been that long since their stay at Nana Morri’s, but already the silence between them is deafening. Imogen had tried to explain herself after the unfortunate way she worded her feelings about Delilah, but besides that, they haven’t spoken at all about what they said during the honesty exercise. Not that there’s been any excess of time, but they’ve managed to make time in the past. 

“--gen?”

She opens her eyes, not realizing she had closed them. She’s met with six pairs of eyes looking down at her. How much time had passed? Did she fall asleep? 

“Hmm?” she mumbles, blinking.

“Can you try to reach out to Ira?” Orym asks. 

Imogen has to fight to keep a straight face, keep the edges of her mouth from turning down. She could, but does she want to? Not particularly. She trusts him about as far as she can throw him.

Her reaction definitely has nothing to do with the thought of every interaction he’s had with Laudna. Nope nope nope. She’s not thinking about Laudna saying she wanted to have a drink with him in the Calloway hideout. Or when she told him she liked him “a lot” before the solstice. That would be ridiculous.

“I’m spent for the day,” she replies. Is she being petty? Maybe. “Can F.C.G. do it?”

“They’re running on empty, too,” Orym says, a frown ghosting at the corners of his mouth. 

“One of us could do it after we rest, then?” Imogen says, looking towards F.C.G., who nods. “It’s not like we’re in a big rush to find him, right?”

“No, I guess not.” He turns away from her and walks towards the opposite wall, near Laudna. 

There’s a bit of awkward silence before Fearne picks up the conversation again, her and F.C.G recounting again(not that Imogen can blame them) how they managed to get away from Otohan. It’s not long before the events of the day catch up with them, yawns being traded back and forth across the group. 

Imogen still has her eyes on Laudna, who is now taking out her bedroll and unfurling it where she sits. Across the room from Imogen. Still.

Imogen doesn’t know how to be in a relationship, that much is evident. But she is pretty sure she heard somewhere that you should never go to bed mad. Not that they’re mad at each other. (Right?) (Fuck, is Laudna mad at her?) (Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.) Either way, she doesn’t want to sleep feeling whatever way she’s feeling right now.

She reaches out. Feels her mind attach to the tether that connects them. Can we talk?

Laudna doesn’t respond. She shows no indication that she heard Imogen at all, but Imogen knows she did. Just when Imogen is about to reach out again, Laudna looks up at her. The eye contact is as brief as it was before, and then she’s standing up. She whispers something to Orym, who settled in nearby, then walks towards the wide archway that leads to the next room, a passage they haven’t gone down yet. 

Imogen stands up and follows her.

Laudna doesn’t stop walking or wait for her to catch up. Imogen is several paces behind her, relying mostly on the sound of her footsteps and the silhouette that she can barely make out, as Laudna leads them through the maze that this temple has become here. 

Eventually, they reach a room that is a dead end. The other entrances, besides the one they came through, are blocked by rocks and debris. The space isn’t as large as where they set up camp, looks like it might have once been a small courtyard.  In the middle is a tree, magically preserved like the berries they found no doubt. The stone pathway that surrounds it is jagged and uneven, but the patch of grass that the tree sits on appears to be untouched.

Imogen stops just inside the entryway when she notices Laudna has stopped. She’s facing the left side of the room, and Imogen pulls out her dancing lights to see what has caught her attention. Against the wall is a bench that has certainly seen better days, broken down the middle, littered with bones that are fused and fossilized to it.

“Do you think they knew what was happening?” Laudna asks, her voice quiet. Shaky. At the sound of it, Imogen finds herself stepping closer. 

“Probably not,” Imogen says as softly as she can. 

“Is that better or worse?” 

Imogen doesn’t have an answer. She’s not even clear on what exactly happened for this temple to end up embedded in the ground of Ruidus. Are there more places like this one, scattered throughout the mantle of the moon? Were all of those people that existed in those places thrust here without warning, without any idea of what was happening to them? Would it have been better for them to understand?

She’s just behind Laudna now, and reaches a tentative hand forward to graze hers. When she doesn’t pull away immediately, Imogen slips their hands together and gives a little tug. “Come on,” she says, jutting her head to the other side of the room when Laudna looks back at her with wide, sad eyes. “Let’s go over here.”

Laudna doesn’t object, and Imogen leads them towards the tree, sitting down with her back against it on the side facing away from the bench. She lets her lights float above them, lighting up this side of the room. Laudna sits down cross-legged next to her, dropping her hand, leaving some space between them. She starts to pick at the grass.

They sit in silence for several minutes. Imogen realizes she should have thought about what she wanted to say before she dragged them here. She doesn’t know where to start.

“Are we okay?” seems like a decent choice.

She hates the way her voice sounds, though. There are tears threatening to fall, choking her voice, but she wills them to stay put. 

“I think we’ll be safe here for the night, but after-,” Laudna stops, looks down at the hand Imogen places on her knee. She doesn’t look up to meet her eyes, though.

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Oh. You mean ‘we’ as in… the two of us.” It’s not a question.

Imogen nods, unsure if Laudna even sees it with the way she refuses to look at her. 

Why couldn’t everything have been easier? Why did they have to get themselves thrust into all of this moon bullshit? Why them? All Imogen wants, all Imogen has ever wanted since she met Laudna, was a simple life with her. (Yeah, she was fantasizing about moving away from Gelvaan and having a life with Laudna after one conversation. Sue her). Why do they need to have all of these monumental, world-ending obstacles in the way of that? 

“We haven’t really talked about anything since Whitestone,” Imogen finally says to get the conversation going, and once she starts talking she finds it hard to stop. “And so much has been goin’ on since then, and- and, I’m not sure if I’ve even dealt with everything that happened there, and it feels like more is happenin’ and it’s not gonna stop and we’re not talkin’ about any of it and if we keep goin’ on this way then-.” She has to stop, her voice going higher and faster and breaking at the end. Because what is going to happen if they keep bottling everything inside? 

“Imogen…” Laudna says sadly, finally looking at her. She reaches forward to brush away a tear that Imogen didn’t realize had broken past her emotional barriers. So many barriers she has. “I guess I… I didn’t realize...” 

Does the silence not eat her up inside the way it does Imogen? 

Of course not. Laudna made peace with loneliness a long time ago. She has Paté, Sashimi. Her new doll. Delilah, as much as Imogen loathes to admit it. Who does Imogen have besides Laudna? Who is Imogen without Laudna?

“It seems like you’ve been avoidin’ me. Ever since…” Ever since she said she’s disgusted by the thought of Delilah watching them. But she can’t say it out loud again. “I just need you to talk to me, Laudna.”

Laudna pulls back, returns her focus to the grass, pulls a handful of the magically preserved blades from the soil. “I don’t know what there is to say…”

But Imogen knows Laudna. She sees the way she bites at the inside of her cheek, the way there is something that she’s not saying. 

“Are you upset, because of what I said durin’ the honesty exercise? About– about Delilah?” Imogen doesn’t miss the miniscule wince that Laudna does at the name. That’s all the response she gives, though. She pulls another handful of grass. 

“We can’t get anywhere if you won’t talk to me, Laudna,” Imogen continues, looking up towards the jagged, rocky, beautiful ceiling to stop her tears from being able to fall.

“I don’t want you to be disgusted with me,” Laudna finally says, but it’s so quiet that Imogen can hardly make it out. “If I’m not near you, then… then there’s nothing to be disgusted at.”

“Laudna.” She needs to make Laudna understand. Neither of them move, Imogen looking at Laudna and Laudna looking at the ground. “Baby, please look at me.”

She finally does, and there are dark tears running down her face. Imogen grabs at her own sleeve and uses it to carefully wipe Laudna’s face clean.

“No, stop, you’ll get your dress dirty,” Laudna objects, lifting a hand to try to stop her. Imogen ignores her protests, then wicks away the dark stains with prestidigitation. She keeps her hands where they are, cradling Laudna’s face, brushing back the hairs that have fallen forward.

“You could never disgust me, Laudna.” Imogen tries to push past the tears and the hurt, and put as much earnestness in her words as she can. “I love you, more than I’ve ever loved anythin’ in my life. Nothin’s gonna change that, alright? Not even her.”

Laudna nods, but stays quiet.

“I’m sorry I made it sound like it was something that was your fault. I know it’s not.” Imogen lets her hands fall from Laudna’s face. She can’t tell how much she’s getting through to Laudna. 

“I just… I don’t want you to have to feel that way…”

“I love you more than I hate her. Whatever I feel about Delilah, it’s worth it if I get to be with you.” She reaches for Laudna’s hand, grateful when she lets her take it. “And at the end of all of this- this bullshit, we’ll find a way to get rid of her, and it won’t be a problem anymore. It’ll be just you and me.”

“Just you and me,” Laudna nods. “And Paté.”

“And Paté,” Imogen agrees, and she doesn’t conceal her smile. “Just pick a place, and that’s where we’ll go when this is all done. Wherever you want.”

For the first time in Imogen doesn’t know how long, Laudna cracks a smile. “Anywhere I want?”

Oh, Imogen thinks she might regret this. She doesn’t care, though, as long as it keeps Laudna happy. “Anywhere.”

[candyskiez]

for the thingy, do tma based on what youve listened to so far?

Okay full disclosure to anyone reading this I am not done this podcast!!! I am on season three episode 87, and haven't finished that episode, please do not give me any spoilers or hint at any. Thank you!

Favorite female character: Melanie King. She's just so ridiculously likable. A thing I've noticed is she's very clearly Used to a certain amount of misogyny with her being in the industry that yk, gets you called insane. She's so immediately defensive whenever she thinks she's getting perceived as crazy or lying and you can tell that's something that's happened a million times, especially recently with the whole. Yk. Arrested thing. It's just a detail that's very well implied that idk. It's something I've been thinking about with her even though its not the main reason I like her. Idk how to explain why I like her she's just very very likable. She feels like a person I'd actually run into and she's just some random person going through the Horrors, just another ghost hunter that got really really unlucky. It's one of the big appeals of TMA to me, they all feel so much like just...people. Not like the authors forcing them or like they're Special because Author Says So. They're just random people and how they got into this situation is pretty believable. I love her dynamics with everyone, if an episode has her in it you know it's gonna be really good, she's just a damn good character and I'm really excited and terrified to see where she goes. Please don't kill her rusty quill.

Favorite male character: Jon Sims. He's just so GOOD man. I like when characters become mean not because of not caring but because they care so much and everything is so awful and everything keeps going to shit and it isn't fair! I love characters who are angry because of a deep love for the people around them! He cares so much about everyone and he hates it so much and man. I don't care how many times it gets done I love it so much. I love his development so far. While with Melanie I'm going "don't hurt her give her hot chocolate and take her far away from this mess just let her be happy PLEASE" with Jon I'm like "I need to see him shatter into a million pieces and try to put himself back together with bleeding hands." And from what I understand I'm in for a treat with one of those wishes and fucked with the other. Whoops. He's just a really good protagonist and just...God. This will not be the last time you hear me talk about how much I love Jon. Also an honorable mention for this spot is Tim. If I don't say how much I love Tim soon I'll die. He's just a guy! He doesn't know what the hell is happening and suddenly everything's fucked and he responds so realistically to it and he's just so interesting to me man. Every horror story has a character who knows absolutely nothing about what's happening and Tim does that so well because like. It feels like. Yeah, obviously. If I knew what he did, I would've done that too.

Favorite season: Man idk I'm only three seasons in. I guess season two? It was a really good season. Jon's spiraling was done so well and him becoming more compassionate just when it was a little too late for that KILLED me. Also TIM!!! Tim was a huge highlight of that season for me, he and Jon's relationship made me want to tear out my own organs. Their fight was just so. I understand exactly why they were so furious at each other. I understand exactly why Tim was so mad at Jon. "He's not wrong you know!" "I know." And Jon having to restart the statement because he's too emotional??? Kill me man just kill me. It just was a really excellent season. Jon and Tim were the biggest highlights for me but Martin was also incredible that season and I loved that scene in shit what was the episode. Hide and seek. With the Tim and Martin conversation. Everyone thinks Martin doesn't care just because he's trying to make things better and because he wants things to be okay it's assumed that he's taking sides or doesn't care that these awful things are happening or that he isn't hurt by it too, and like. It's an understandable assumption. I've made that assumption about people in the past, though I'm not proud of it. And it hurts Martin so much because Martin just wants things to be okay, he just wants to be safe and for his life to stop falling apart and for from what I'm understanding the only real connections he seems to have right now to stop tearing each other apart, and people just assume he's Okay with how Jon's acting, or that Jon wasn't also unfair to him because Martin was worried about him. And it's just. Ough. Martins whole Thing in that season had me Thinking about some shit he made me feel some emotions that's for sure. Can't wait to see what happens with him. Oops this was long.

Favorite episode: Okay I'm gonna be honest with you. This is the worst question you can ask me about this show because I for the life of me cannot fucking choose. There are so many good episodes. So I'm just gonna uh. Talk about a bunch? I've narrowed it down to four but it was so hard guys you don't even know.

Hive: This is just a really really good episode and it makes me batshit insane. I think a really good choice was making her actually not a very easy person to get along with. It would've been so easy to just say that she was nice and she tried so hard but she was alone because people were Mean :(. And I think that this makes the statement hit a lot harder especially as someone who's struggled with mental illness for a long time it's just. She hurt people and she can't wrap her head around it. All she takes away from it is I was left alone. All she sees is that nobody gets her, nobody cares about her, everyone hates her now, or did they always hate her? And I can see the exact thought process that led to her being so taken in by the worms. Like okay here is this thing that needs her, that can't leave her because they need her to survive, so they love her. They love her and they don't care that she's apparently toxic, she doesn't know what that means, she doesn't know what she did, but whatever she did doesn't matter because why would it matter to them. They think she's beautiful, that she's perfect the way she is, they make sense to her and she doesn't have to change. It doesn't matter that she's not a good person, because it doesn't need her to be. It loves her. Like. I'm not saying 2023 me would've absolutely been down to get possessed by worms but at that point in my life I would've absolutely stuck my hand in the nest too. Like. I get it, man. Especially off the hinges of July or November I was a fucking wreck man. I get her. I really like how this show portrays distress. It's not cute. It's not pretty. People do horrible things because they don't know what else to do. Sometimes you blow up every relationship you have, sometimes you stick your hand in a wasp nest to be loved by the only thing you can imagine still loving you. It happens.

The smell of blood: MELANIEEEEE. She stole my heart in this episode. I was so determined not to like her and I was sold by the end of the episode. Her dynamic with Jon was so fun and also just. The insight into how she thinks! I love the statements that are more like a conversation the most anything character interaction heavy is bound to make me eat my own limbs. The...OK I don't wanna say chemistry bc that implies romance but I also don't know what else to call it? They just bounce off each other really well they're SO similar and because of that their defenses against a Lifetime Of Bullshit will clash so hard but then when they can actually talk to each other earnestly they click so well. And just. God I don't even know how to explain why I love Melanie. She's just so??? She puts her show first until she suddenly can't anymore, she immediately expects hostility or doubt and it closes her off from any help or connections and she can't quite get that actually sometimes people just genuinely are worried about you. It's avain it's really clear she's been in the industry for a long time because she's so used to mistreatment she immediately lashes out at anyone who gets too close to acting like that. Shes clearly been through a fuck ton and I'm really excited to learn more about her. That's another thing tma does well the characters are so shaped by their experiences and they make so much sense.

Hide and seek: Godddd. I love this episode. I love this episode!!! Where do I even start!! I mean okay Jon and Tim are a major focus in it so obviously I'm gonna be having a great time. Like. God. Where do I even start. First off Tim's view of Jon is so AUGHHHH this episode because. It hurts and also I cannot blame him at all even a little bit for a second. There are so many good lines in this episode. Also Martin and Tim's interactions in this episode? Insane, so good, told me so much about both of them and anyone who knows me knows I love character analysis so you KNOW I was eating my phone the whole time. I don't even know how to explain what's so good about this episode because it's just. All of it. All of it is so good. It's just a really good episode what else can I even say here. Jon apologizing to Martin and Tim when he thought he was about to die killed me. Every Tim moment this episode killed me. If I was held at gun point I'd probably say this episode is my overall favorite but like. Don't make me choose okay.

A guest for Mr Spider: When I say this statement completely changed how I see Jon I mean it completely changed how I see Jon. It changed how I saw literally everything he's done throughout the podcast. Everything he does makes so much sense with this context but especially his actions regarding the not Sasha. Of course he sent everyone away. Of course he felt like he had to solve it all by himself. After all nobody else could get hurt, because it's His responsibility and He didn't notice and He should be the one dealing with the consequences anyway. He has this view of himself where he's like I'm the only one that should deal with this and yet. It's not arrogance or not entirely. It's this mess of I have to do it by myself and i cannot trust anyone else with this they WILL mess it up but it's not even that he thinks highly of his own capabilities he just judges (fears) everyone else so much. And his trust issues make so much damn sense in retrospect like. His sense of safety was completely shattered when he was so young, and he grew up feeling undesired and like a burden and. Of course he assumes any act of kindness is an act, of course he's so suspicious of anyone who tries to get close, he never had those connections. This episode is just. So good. It explains so much about him and is just a really good start to the season and I can't wait to see what happens next.

Favorite ship: So far, Jonmartin. Yes I know I've been very basic with all these but like. It's common for a reason they're so interesting?? Like yes very sweet but also they're so fascinating. There's something going on there I can't wait to see what happens. But also I'm eyeing a bunch of other ships too. I am a multishipper by trade. I will whack any character together. I'm kinda eyeing jontim very closely. I will probably whack any interesting protagonist/antagonist dynamic together before you can do anything because they intrigue me.

A character I'd die defending: Honestly all of them. I get all of them. They're just people. Most of the decisions they make are ones I would've made in their situations, I can't get seriously mad at any of them.

A character I can't sympathize with: So far, none.

A character I grew to love: Melanie. She dragged me in kicking and screaming.

My anti otp: So far, none!

I once again ask you don't say any spoilers or hints, thank you!

[betweenthings2]

!!!!! hope ur december is going well so far !!!! can u pretty pretty please do 10 (lips against a hipbone) or 21 (white silk) for the december prompts !!! ur choice which :v

Thank you for the ask!! I'm so sorry I'm late to getting the written--December was way busier that I anticipated--but the January prompts are here =)

I've combined these prompts into one--I hope that's ok--and it got way angstier than I meant it to, which is I guess is kind of par for the course. One day I'll write something fluff, but today is not that day =/

The hotel sheets are made of white silk and appropriate, George thinks, for the honeymoon suite, as they pool around Matty's bare hips, just barely preserving some semblance of modesty, not that Matty has much of that. Still, he's gorgeous, spread out against white silk, tattoos and dark hair a stark against the material.

They've been lounging in bed since they finished breakfast, which brought by room service. There's no real reason for them to go anywhere, not now. They have no responsibilities, no one who needs anything from them other than each other. George can’t remember the last time they had this kind of quiet, uninterrupted time together, but god, it's nice. It's so nice.

Matty rolls over to drape his body over George's, tugging the white silk sheets out of the way as he moves, and kisses him, deep but gentle, over only when they both need a breath. George runs a hand over Matty's shoulder and down his back to the swell of his arse and squeezes. Matty keeps going after they separate, pressing kisses against George's jaw, then down his neck, then his collarbones. Neither of them is trying for anything, not now, not when George had gotten them both off in the shower before ordering breakfast. This is just touching, this is just taking comfort in covering familiar ground.

Maybe Matty has other ideas, though, because he shifts, sitting up just enough that he can keep pressing kisses against George's skin, against his sternum, then down his belly. Matty's lips are soft and his breath is warm as he moves, and George moves his hand to rest in Matty's hair, earning a quiet little pleased hum, so he runs his fingers through Matty's hair, blunt nails scratching against his scalp and is rewarded with another pleased hum.

Matty keeps going, pressing his lips against George's hip bone, then moves down to press another kiss to George's thigh. He pauses for just a moment, then goes back up, pressing kisses along George's skin where the waistband of his boxers would hit, then to his other hipbone. When he's done with that, Matty lays back down properly, his head against George's sternum. George keeps his hand in Matty's hair, gentle and asking for nothing until he feels dampness against his bare skin and realizes that Matty is crying.

Matty crying isn't unusual, in and of itself, and he's cried a lot in the past week, sometimes after they've shared drinks or a bottle of wine with dinner, sometimes after, or during, sex, and once, when he was the first one up in the morning because he couldn't believe things are this good for him. He hasn't just started crying just because. It's a little bit worrying.

"Matty?" George asks, careful.

"'m ok," Matty answers, quiet.

"You're crying."

Matty nods, stray hairs tickling George's bare skin as he does, and says, "Yeah. I do that a lot."

"Tell me what you're cryin' about?"

Matty lifts his head and moves to lay on his belly, propped up slightly on his elbows, next to George and meet his eyes to say, "Well, I was gonna ask if I could suck you off, to be honest, but I thought too hard about things, about how we're here in this hotel room with silk sheets and I love you and we're on our honeymoon and I fucking love you and I got overwhelmed." He wipes away a few more tears with one hand and lets out a kind of self deprecating laugh, then adds, "'s kinda ridiculous, but I never expected to get this. Thought it was a fucking miracle I when made it past twenty-seven and now I'm here, we're here."

"C'mere," George murmurs, urging Matty to lay close again, head on George's chest. "I love you, too. I adore you, more than anything," he adds, tugging the sheet back up to their hips. He feels a little bit like they need something to hide behind, too bare to have this conversation without it.

"I wish I would go back and tell myself it turns out ok," Matty continues. "I have this picture in my head of myself at twenty-seven or so almost overdosing and sobbing until I passed out in a hotel bathtub because I was too high to know how to call you. I'd like to go back and hold that person's hand, tell him it works out."

"The bathtub?" George echoes, half confused. It's a stupid thing to say, he realizes, so he adds, "You made it through that, and I'm proud of you for having made it through that."

"Bathtub is the best place to be when you're that high," Matty responds. "Forces you to be upright so you don't choke on your own sick and it's easier to clean up there than anywhere else."

"I hate that you know that," George murmurs. "I hate that you needed to know that, but I'm glad you're still here. I can't imagine life without you."

"'s just, um, hard isn't the word, but maybe something like that to try and reconcile that with this," Matty explains. "I'm working on it, but sometimes I'm afraid that I'm going to wake up in that fucking bathtub."

"You won't," George promises. "This is real. You and me, we are real and I'm not going anywhere. No more nights spent in bathtubs and no more wondering if you're gonna be there in the morning. We made it. We're ok. You made it out. I promise."

Matty nods. "Thanks, G."

George runs his hand through Matty's hair again, and repeats, "You made it out."

[shyvioletcat]

A/N: Look what's back! Think I'll just say PROGRESS and leave it at that.

~ Made of Ashes Masterlist ~

~~~~~

The fourth trimester was a valid title given to the months that followed birthing a child. Nine months of pregnancy was just the beginning, once the baby was on the outside it was like entering a whole new world. Through the steep learning curve and every life altering change, Aelin had made it. Elsie was officially three months and ten days old and as happy as could be. She had smiles for everyone, especially her mother, and the most darling laugh that was infectious. Sleeping through the night was rare and the sheer amount of nappies was ridiculous, but that was all part of the job. As far as Aelin could tell, her daughter was perfect and she knew she was incredibly biassed. She was allowed to be, it came with being a mother. Life with a newborn hadn’t been easy but there wasn’t anything in the world Aelin would trade her daughter for. 

Right now they were sitting by the couch, Elsie in her bouncer and Aelin sitting cross legged in front of her. Elsie cooed at her mother, her eyes wide as she watched whatever was going on to keep her entertained. Which was currently reading a book, the tenth changeup in however many minutes. Aelin held the book in front of her, giving her best animation to the words despite how tired she was, but it did no good. Elsie was too distracted to pay attention to the book, preferring to watch her mother instead. 

“You aren’t even listening, are you? How am I supposed to instil you with a love of reading when you’re just obsessed with me?” Aelin put the book down and tickled Elsie's sides.

She giggled, the sound so sweet Aelin’s cheeks hurt from how hard it made her smile. Eyes that were most definitely leaning towards green watched her every move. When the murky blue of Elsie's newborn eyes had started to lighten and shift towards emeralds rather than sapphires, Aelin had been in denial for a long time. She was adamant that there was still time, the colour could still change—and technically it still could. But it looked like no matter what they would be a shade of green in one way or the other. It wasn’t such a bad thing, it would never be held as a flaw.

“Now you wait here, I have to check on the mousse,” Aelin said, tapping her daughter’s nose. “It is from a packet but with you keeping me up half the night our friends can’t really ask for more.”

She went to the fridge where the mousse was setting in individual glasses. The Lochan’s were on their way over for dinner and she was providing dessert. They were bringing the main course as per Elide’s insistence. Taking out one of the glasses Aelin poked a skewer right into the middle. Pleased with the progress she licked the end clean as her phone started buzzing in her pocket. She pulled it out, the caller ID telling her it was Lorcan who was trying to reach her. 

Aelin answered, putting the phone to ear. “Let me guess, you’re running late,”

“Not exactly,” Lorcan said. “Korby is sick and Elide thought it best to keep him at home.”

“Oh, no,” Aelin cringed. Elsie was yet to get sick, but she’d seen enough of Rue and Korby being unwell to know it was a feat. “But that’s fine. I’ll see you guys another time.”

“Here’s the other thing, Elide also thought it best to bring you dinner so you can eat because we cancelled last minute,” Lorcan explained. 

Aelin stopped her pottering in readiness to give her all to this fight over the phone. “You don’t have to.”

Lorcan let out a short laugh. “I did, and before you say anything else I’m halfway to your place, so...”

“Elide,” Aelin said, withholding her own laugh.

“Elide.” If she could see Lorcan she was sure he would be nodding. “I’ll see you in about ten.”

“Yep, bye,” Aelin said and hung up. 

Elsie started announcing her displeasure at being left alone, so with hands on her hips Aelin walked back to the living room. “Did you know your Aunty Elide might be more stubborn than I am, and that’s saying something.”

The baby just grinned, legs kicking. Aelin dropped back on the floor putting on some music and holding onto Elsie’s hands to make her dance. They kept that up until there was a knock on the door. Elsie wasn’t happy about it but she let her mother go after holding on as long as she physically could. Knowing her time was limited, Aelin practically jogged over and opened the door of her apartment, revealing Lorcan waiting with a wrapped up casserole dish under his arm. She didn’t say anything, just swept her arm out in a gesture that told him he was welcome to step in whenever he was ready. 

“Pork chops and vegetables,” Lorcan said, heading for the kitchen. “About fifteen minutes in the oven should do it.”

“You didn’t have to bring anything over, we would have survived,” Aelin said, following after she flicked the door shut. “I do know how to use a phone or even cook for that matter.” 

“I know, but Elide felt so bad that she wanted to make sure you had dinner for tonight. And there should be enough leftovers for the late night hungers,” Lorcan said. 

He was referring to the phenomenon of being perpetually hungry while breastfeeding. Aelin’s pantry was currently a treasure trove of snacks that she could grab and eat when she needed to. Which was often. In fact, she might be hungry now. Lorcan left the dish on the bench and Aelin went to the pantry and chose a honey covered nut bar.

“How’s Korby?” she asked.

“He’s a mean little bastard when he’s sick, and I mean that with all the love in my heart,” Lorcan said. “And he’s such a Mama’s boy that he wants nothing to do with me.”

“Feeling a bit lonely?” Aelin teased. 

There was an impatient squeal from the living area where Elsie was reclined in her bouncer, her kicks setting it in motion. Her eyes were on the man who hadn’t even bothered to say hello, and from the cross look on her face she was very offended by it. 

“Oh I’m sorry, Elsie-girl,” Lorcan said, using the nickname that had slowly but surely settled on her. “Did I not pay you any attention?”

As Lorcan got closer Elsie’s expression changed, her fists knocking against each other as she smiled up at him. It was still so odd to see this side of Lorcan. He was so much softer with the kids, and that was to be expected with his own but the way it had extended to Elsie had taken Aelin by surprise. Lorcan scooped up Elsie, holding her close to his chest. He was such a gentle giant.

“There, is that better?” Lorcan asked her. Elsie just reached her tiny hands for his face. 

“But he’s alright, isn’t he?” Aelin called from the kitchen. 

Lorcan walked to the counter and pulled out a stool. “Yeah, he’s just expelling so much snot.”

“That’s kind of gross,” Aelin said, turning her back so she could return the kindness of dinner with the dessert in the fridge. There was a hiccup followed by a wet sound. She turned around in time to beige slime running down Lorcan’s hand.

“Your kid just vomited on me, I’d say that’s pretty gross too.”

Aelin snatched a tea towel that was hanging from the oven door and threw it to Lorcan. He caught it while keeping hold of Elsie with the vomit covered hand. Having children tended to desensitise a person to such things and Lorcan only looked very mildly repulsed as cleaned the both of them up. He left the dirty towel on the counter looking down as he pinched one of Elsie’s chubby cheeks. She chased his hand with her mouth, her hands desperately trying to coordinate to catch him. Lorcan gave in, letting Elsie hold his hand and chew on a knuckle.

“Take some of these,” Aelin said. “Or I will literally eat them all and she’ll be drinking chocolate milk.”

“Well, if that’s the case,” Lorcan added, heavy on the sarcasm.

Aelin decided that packing the mousse into a plastic container would be the easiest way to send it with Lorcan. She scooped three servings out and then licked the spoon. This would definitely be gone, and soon, it tasted too good. Maybe it would be her very early morning breakfast when she would be dragged from sleep by a hungry baby and the sugar would help wake her up. 

“You take this and I’ll take my baby so you can return to your family who is desperately missing you right now,” Aelin said, sliding the box across the bench.

“Elide maybe, not Korby,” Lorcan said while he passed the baby over. 

Once she had a good hold on her daughter Aelin picked up Elsie’s arm, making her wave. “Say bye to Uncle Lorcan.”

“Bye Elsie-girl.” Lorcan waved back.

He let himself out of the apartment, and the new silence made Aelin realise how disappointed she was that her dinner guest had to bail. Socialising as a new mother was hard. Sometimes she missed interacting with adults instead of being caught in her own little family bubble. Emrys had been more than generous with her maternity leave and she wasn’t due back to work until next month. Aelin had considered going back early just for more interaction with people. And Elsie would be coming with her anyway, so it wasn’t exactly a terrible idea. 

Aelin sighed, hefting her daughter up a little higher so that she could kiss her cheek. “Well, it’s just you and me, babe.”

~~~~~

Weddings were a family obligation Rowan could do without. He never understood how the Whitethorns could make such a thing out of every occasion. Maybe it was just the sheer number of them, and the fact that they just kept multiplying. His plethora of cousins were more than happy to make miniature versions of themselves. Many of whom were causing a ruckus as Rowan tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. 

It was another situation of Rowan causing more of a fuss and getting more attention if he didn’t turn up. So here he was, a chair dragged to the wall and waiting until the guests were given the okay to leave. He was more than happy for his cousin Enda who’s wedding this was. From what he could tell the man he’d chosen to spend the rest of his life with was the perfect choice for him. Rowan’s enthusiasm hadn’t been forced throughout the ceremony and toasts, but now it was time for dancing—something he was not enthusiastic about. 

He could see his parents on the dance floor, happy as could be amongst the other couples. Dateless and alone, it might only be his mother who could convince him to go out there. Rowan was just checking the time and his emails when he was abruptly interrupted. 

“Claudia, would you look at this,” Sellene, his most meddlesome of cousins, said with her daughter perched on her hip. “Remember this day because this might be the first and last time you even see cousin Rowan.”

“You’re hilarious,” Rowan replied, tucking his phone back into the inside chest pocket of his jacket.

Sellene took the seat in front of him that was still relatively associated with a table. “That sounds like you doubt my hilarity, which I find offensive.”

Rowan ignored that piece of bait and redirected. “I have met her before. Many times.”

“Yeah, but this is the time that counts because she’ll remember it,” Sellene said.

Rowan sighed and chose to humour his cousin. “Hello, Claudia. Pleased to meet you.”

He stuck out his hand for the girl to shake and to her credit she didn’t hesitate to take up the offer. “Hi. Mummy says you’re grumpy.” 

Sellene laughed and nodded, and even Rowan cracked a smile at the declaration. Claudia must have been about three now, maybe four, if he was remembering correctly. She definitely was carrying on the Whithorn genes with her silver hair and green eyes.

“But you can be grumpy and nice, are you nice Rowan?” Claudia asked.

“Well, that depends on who you ask,” Rowan replied. He could have given the little girl a long list of people who thought he was a bastard. 

Claudia tilted her head, like she was analysing him, or trying to read into his soul. Maybe she was, and maybe she found something there that wasn’t bleak and bitter because she said, “Yeah, you’re nice. Do you want to dance with me?”

“Ah,” Rowan didn’t know how to turn down a kid. What if she started crying? 

Thankfully his cousin took pity on him. “Come on Claudia, I think your dad wanted the next dance.”

Sellene shifted Claudia off her lap and stood up, taking the girl’s hand. “It was good to see you, Rowan. Until the next family gathering.”

The two of them walked away, Claudia turning to wave at him three times before they were out of sight. Rowan had waved back, it would have been rude not to after all.

Children liked him, and it was a strange phenomenon because he hadn’t really given them much thought other than the fact that he didn’t want that for his life. When Lyria had gotten pregnant all those years ago he had been entirely unprepared. They had been too young and Rowan hadn’t wanted that life for himself. It had put a wedge between them from the very moment she had told him. She had been his first serious relationship, and if things had happened differently maybe they would have married one day. Lyria might be the one next to him and not an empty chair. But the unexpected announcement had caught him by surprise and forced him to confront things he wasn’t ready for. He had just started at Stone City Advertising and his goal had been to prove himself as quickly as possible. Caring for a child hadn’t factored into that.

To distract himself from the sense of impending doom he had thrown himself into work, a habit that still lingered today. When things got hard, he just worked harder. He and Lyria had the arduous conversations, and she tried to hold them together. But when she miscarried, Rowan’s relief had just about broken her heart and they fell apart from there.

Shaking off the shadows of the past, Rowan looked out on the dance floor and saw Sellene dancing with her family. Her husband had Claudia on one arm while he spun Sellene with the other. It was a picturesque sight, something right out of a movie with how they laughed and effortlessly seemed to move so in sync with each other. It was enough to draw that dormant loneliness to the surface.

If, if, Rowan had ever decided he wanted children there was only one woman that his imagination ever entertained. As he watched the happy family he had a fleeting moment of what if. What if he and Aelin were still together, would he have changed his mind about wanting kids of his own?

Rowan shook his head, stopping those thoughts before they could gain any more clarity. He had been haunted by the past enough for one evening. There was no point in them, any future he had with Aelin was gone. What was the use of thinking of it now?  

~~~~~

A day off was meant to be at least the tiniest bit relaxing. Unless your car needed a service and your child had gone through a sudden growth spurt. That was how Aelin found herself at the mall, her car at the mechanics in the same complex and wandering around looking at clothes for a small human. It was a convenient system for her, especially when she had a little tag along. In classic toddler style, the pram was full of bags while Elsie walked. It made things slower but there was time to kill until Aelin got the call that her car was ready. Although they would have to stop for lunch soon.

Right now they were looking through racks of dresses, something in Elsie’s size for her upcoming birthday. They might not quite be the right term. Elsie was hiding in the middle of the racks, shoulders up obscured by clothes. Every once and a while Aelin split the row of dresses to keep her daughter stationary and within her immediate vicinity. If they made this into a game of peek-a-boo Aelin could keep her in *this rack instead of wandering off. 

“My goodness, Elsie just keeps disappearing,” Aelin said, keeping the game alive. The answer was a giggle. “Ah-ha! There you are.”

Aelin slid across some tulle monstrosities to see her daughter who let out a very loud squeal at being discovered. Elsie covered her face like that would hide her and Aelin went back to browsing. She pulled out two options, not particularly sold on either but she’d ask anyway. 

“Elsie, do you like these?”

Too lost in her own little world, Elsie didn’t bother to look over, choosing to babble away to herself instead. That sound had Aelin’s lips tilting into a crooked smile. The mind of a child — what her imagination must paint her surroundings into. There was nothing here that was worth the fight that came with forcing a toddler to wear something not by choice. 

Aelin managed to easily lead Elsie out by the hand. “Come on, let's go somewhere else, none of these are speaking to you or me.”

Aelin decided to try one more store, but there was still no luck. On the way out Elsie caught sight of the toy section and she was gone before Aelin could even think the word no. They spent a while wandering the aisles, no now being said more times than could be counted. Elsie was looking at toys that made far too much noise when she sneezed, a long line of snot shooting out of her nose.

“Damnit,” Aelin muttered, practically diving into her bag for a tissue. She found one a few seconds later and wiped away the mucus. It was clear, which was a good sign, but the snot situation would have to be monitored in case that led to something more. 

Elsie was not phased in the slightest, she just scrambled through the bottom basket of the pram demanding snacks. Not wanting everything thrown on the floor, Aelin picked out a packet of fruit flavoured puffs and opened them before handing them to her daughter. That was enough to indicate that it was time for lunch. 

The walk to the restaurant enclosed courtyard was slow going, and Aelin had to apologise to the other people in the elevator when Elsie pushed all the buttons, but they eventually made it to the courtyard filled with restaurants. Aelin already knew which one they’d be going to because toddlers were notorious for only choosing to eat certain things. Elsie would want noodles from the Japanese place and Aelin would get something with rice. A ping from her phone distracted her, automatically pulling it out of her pocket to check the text. It was in that split second when she took her eyes off her daughter for the smallest moment that she lost track of her. Because when Aelin looked over to where Elsie had been standing next to the pram… now she was gone. 

~~~~~

Rowan’s parents' time in Orynth was coming to an end and it was time for them to move on. That was why he found himself at an overcrowded shopping mall on a Sunday, a place he tried to avoid on the weekends if he could help it. But his mother had asked him to come along to help since they’d returned their rental car, something Rowan had no issues with. He would have offered to drive them if she hadn’t asked him first. She had promised him lunch though, even if he would make sure he would be the one paying. 

They were currently in a luggage store while his father looked for a new backpack. Rowan was idling browsing the suitcases, not really looking for something for himself, the one he brought with him was absolutely fine. Maybe just in case it busted a wheel or something, he’d have an idea of what to get next. Even then he’d be more likely to fix it himself before he spent money on something new. Rowan was not a browser, never had been. He was boring himself with his own inner ramblings.

Moving on, Rowan ended up in front of the children’s suitcases. Most of them were little hardcases that barely reached past his knees, decked out in bright colours and all kinds of characters on them. He had very little knowledge of such things and could only assume which might be princesses from popular franchises. What he did find himself considering is which one Elspeth might choose if she was here. Did she have a favourite movie? A favourite character? Maybe she was into animals rather than princesses.

“So,” Iris said, appearing next to him. “Yesterday went well, didn’t it?”

Ah, yes. The now infamous park meet up. 

“As well as it could,” Rowan replied. “It was nice to have less hostility stewing.”

They were both quiet for a moment and then his mother asked, “What will you do when we’re gone?”

Rowan had spent most of last night thinking about it. His parents, especially his mother, allowed him access to Elspeth that he couldn’t quite manage himself. It was still a challenge to break through the cool indifference Aelin had towards him. Without that advocacy into Elspeth’s life, Rowan wasn’t quite sure how he was going to manage his new resolution to prove himself.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I guess I’ll just have to play it by ear, wait on Aelin’s whims.”

Iris made a disapproving sound. “You’ll have to stop that.”

Rowan shot his mother a look. “What?”

“The animosity, that won’t be good for Elsie,” Iris explained. 

He managed to hold in his sigh, flashes of Elspeth’s stricken face when she’d been caught in the middle of all those arguments still haunting him. “To be fair, we’ve cut down on it quite a bit because we did notice that.”

“Well, look at that. You can work together,” Iris said, the slight sarcasm carrying a healthy dose of truth. 

Rowan’s laugh was humourless, his mother still had a point. 

“Right, time for lunch?” Evander announced, his new purchase in his hand. 

“Sure,” Rowan said. “What do we feel like?”

“Not sure, why don’t we head to the food court and see what’s there,” his father said.

Although it had been a few years and there were some recent renovations, Rowan remembered his way to the courtyard that held the restaurants rather than the fast food options. 

“Any updates on what we feel like?” Rowan asked, surveying what was on offer. 

“Well, I—oh my,” Iris said, apparently stumbling forward on nothing. For a heartstopping moment Rowan was flooded with concern, until he saw his mother look down and smile. “Hello there.”

“Iris!”

Head snapping to the sound of that little voice, Rowan was more than surprised to find that his daughter had once again been conjured out of nowhere. 

“Elsie, where did you come from?” Iris asked, putting a hand on her messy curls.

Elspeth spoke quickly and Rowan managed to catch something about ‘mama’ and ‘lunch’. He looked around, and Aelin was easy to spot, hurriedly pushing a pram filled with bags towards them. 

“Hi, sorry,” she sounded a little breathless. “Gods, she’s quick. Nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“That’s what children were made for,” Evander said. 

Aelin laughed, and Rowan could have sworn it was out of nervousness and the flush on her cheeks was from embarrassment. “I swear I don’t lose her like that often.”

Iris reached out and put a hand on Aelin’s forearm. “Don’t worry about it, I lost Rowan for a solid hour when he was little.”

“You did?” Rowan asked.

His mother nodded. “Not my finest moment.”

Elspeth let her grandmother go and transferred her grip to her mother’s legs. “Noodles, Mama?”

“Sure thing.” Aelin looked at the three Whitethorns, her eyes quickly darting over Rowan. “We were about to get lunch. Have you guys eaten?”

Rowan couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Unless he was about to be corrected Aelin had invited them all to lunch. Including him. This was miles beyond a meet up in the park. 

“We were just considering what to eat ourselves,” Iris said. “Is there anywhere you like to go in particular?”

“Yeah, Elsie loves the noodles from the Japanese place over there,” Aelin pointed behind them. “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course,” Evander said. “Whatever the Princess wants.”

Aelin laughed. “Words I live by. Come on Elsie, time for noodles.”

To everyone’s astonishment, especially his, Elspeth grabbed onto Rowan's hand and started leading the way. 

“‘Tum on, Rowan,” her pronunciation of his name was still a little off. “Noodles this way.” 

He just let it happen and tried not to think too hard about it, rather than whether or not it should be happening. Rowan didn’t know what restaurant they were going to so he walked slow enough that Elspeth kept in front of him directing him where to go. She was in another tutu today, this one with yellow with thin straps and a long t-shirt underneath. The tulle always seemed impractical to him, but he wasn’t a little girl. There had to be some underlying appeal that was beyond him. They stopped outside a tidy looking restaurant, the interior filled with dark furniture and sleek lines.

A waiter came forward and as the first one there it was up to him to sort out their seating. “Table for four, well five actually.” 

“Right this way,” the waiter said.

Rowan spent most of lunch seated at the end of the table on the padded bench observing. Aelin and Elspeth were at the other end of the table and they kept the conversation going up there. He certainly felt like an outsider, watching as Elspeth just fell into place with her grandparents. They loved her so much already, he could see it in the way they looked at her, how they were so gentle and couldn’t help but hang on every word she said. Rowan was glad he’d been brave enough to initiate this for them. When Elspeth finished her lunch she got restless and Aelin freed her from the high chair. 

His mother immediately got her attention, beckoning Elsie onto the bench seat next to her. The new seat was apparently the most amazing thing she had ever seen from the way proudly sat there by herself. Amazing, and fleeting, because the next moment she was dashing to the pram to retrieve a stuffed dog. She showed her grandparents and they fawned over it, much to Elspeth’s delight. It made Rowan smile. 

“Do you mind? I can’t hear in here,” Aelin said, holding up her phone.

Iris nodded. “Go ahead, we’ve got her.”

Aelin was gone a few moments later, phone pressed to her ear. Elspeth didn’t notice at first, too busy patting down the ears of the toy dog that had her attention. She wandered down the length of the table, softly humming to herself and mumbling nonsense to her puppy. Then she looked up and Rowan saw the moment that she realised Aelin wasn’t there. Elspeth looked devastated. 

“Mama?” she asked him.

“She’s just outside on the phone, sweetheart,” Rowan told her. “Come stand up here and you can see.”

He patted the bench seat next to him and Elspeth took his invitation. When she struggled Rowan helped her up, keeping hold of her hand as she stood. And then she lent on his shoulder too, her curls tickling his nose as she peered out the window trying to look for her mother. When she spotted her she gave an excited gasp and started waving. By some kind of motherly intuition Aelin turned, seeing Elspeth and waved back. 

Content with her mother's closeness, Elspeth went back to playing. “Puppy, Rowan. See?” 

“I do,” Rowan told her. “It’s very pretty.”

Elspeth nodded enthusiastically. “Yep, yep.”

Having her this close made something in Rowan’s chest ache. She hadn’t been quick to move after waving to her mother, and she still clung to him. It was hard not to get swept away with how adorable she was, it was hard for him to look away. When he did, he caught his mother looking at him, she was smiling but he didn’t miss the emotion in her eyes. 

Elspeth sneezed, so sudden and forcefully that Rowan actually jumped. Snot dribbled out of her nose and without a second thought he picked up a napkin to wipe it away. Face clean, she decided it was time to sit down, and she started playing with her dog right next to him. 

“How was everything?” the waiter asked, appearing again to clear away the plates. 

“Fantastic, thank you,” Rowan said. “Can we get the bill?”

As expected there was some discussion over who would be paying, Rowan made sure he was the one to get the cheque and slip his card in with the receipt. All the while Elspeth continued playing beside him while Aelin was still outside on the phone. Then things unexpectedly went still and quiet. To his everlasting surprise he looked down to see that Elspeth had fallen asleep, her head resting on his thigh as her arms hugged her toy. 

Holy Gods, Rowan didn’t know what to do except sit perfectly still.

And he did, right up until Aelin came back in, eyes darting around for her daughter. 

“Ah, over here,” Rowan said, awkwardly pointing down next to him. 

With brows furrowed in confusion, Aelin came over. The confusion changed to surprise, but she didn't comment on it. “I’ll get the pram.”

Rowan kept up with his frozen state, not wanting to move and disturb the sleeping child while Aelin got the pram ready. She pushed a button and a whole section fell backwards, making it so there was a flat surface for Elspeth to lie on. He had no idea that prams could do such things. Then Aelin came over and very carefully picked Elspeth up. Once safely in her arms, she whispered softly to the girl, kissing her cheeks before lowering her down into the pram. 

“Sorry, apparently my car needs more work than I thought so it will be a few days,” Aelin explained, then shrugged. “What can you do? And I should probably get Sleeping Beauty home.”

“Well, we’re ready to go,” Iris said.

“The bill?” Aelin said.

Before Rowan could say anything, his father spoke up. “Don’t worry about it.”

Outside, Rowan gave his parents and Aelin some privacy to say goodbye. They wouldn’t see each other before they flew out tomorrow evening. He wasn’t too far away, close enough that he could still hear the hum of their conversation, but not what was being said. There was laughing and joking, but there were tears lining his mother’s eyes as she turned away. They made their way over to Rowan while Aelin checked her phone again. With a deep breath Rowan took a chance and walked towards her. She didn’t move, even when she saw him coming. He stopped a healthy distance away, second guessing himself. 

“Aelin, I…” Rowan sighed, frustrated at himself over his inability to just say the words. “Thank you for that.”

For a moment Aelin just eyed him assessingly, then said, “It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t and we both know it,” Rowan said.

Aelin looked down at Elspeth, still blissfully asleep in her pram. “I did it for her.”

That was a loaded statement, it could refer to lunch or it could apply to everything Aelin had done for the sake of her daughter over the past three years. Rowan was too much of a coward to question it further but he did have other things he needed to say. With a drama free meal creating such a positive environment, he might as well do it now. 

“I’m sorry,” he said simply, some of that anger that plagued him dissipating. 

But for Aelin it seemed to have the opposite effect. She stood straighter, her gaze turning harder. “For what exactly?”

This wasn’t going how he thought, he hadn’t meant to piss her off. So Rowan went on, dousing the flames instead of incensing them.

“For my behaviour since I arrived. There was a right way to go about this and I didn’t choose it,” Rowan said. “It was unfair to Elspeth for me to disrupt her life like that because of my own feelings. She’s so young, she doesn’t understand.”

Aelin cleared her throat. “You had every right to be angry.”

That admission took Rowan by surprise, but this wasn’t the time or place to start unpacking that. This was only going to work if he took it one step at a time, and he had one more thing he wanted to apologise for before he used up all his luck. “I’m sorry about punching Fenrys in the face.”

“You sure about that?” Aelin was fighting a smile.

Rowan let out a humourless laugh. “Like I said, a right way and a wrong way. Whatever he did, Fenrys didn’t deserve that.”

“Alright,” Aelin said after a few pensive moments. “Thank you. I accept your apologies and I appreciate you offering them.”

Rowan nodded, slipping his hands into his pockets—the vulnerability of this situation making him feel uncomfortable. Right now he didn’t expect anything more from Aelin. He knew that if they delved any deeper into the situation between them they would risk things fleeing hard and fast from civility.

“This feels never ending,” there was resignation in Aelin's voice, like she truly believed they would be stuck in this limbo of emotions and tension forever. 

“Did you need a ride? Because your car isn’t ready?” Rowan offered after a few more moments of heavy silence. 

Aelin shook her head, holding up her phone. “Fenrys is coming to get us, and you don’t have a carseat anyway.”

“Right, of course.” Rowan hadn’t even considered that, it hadn’t even entered his mind in the slightest. They didn’t just let two year olds rattle around in cars these days. If he were to have some kind of future with Elspeth in his life these were things he would have to consider.

“See you around,” Aelin said, turning and pushing the pram away, not bothering to wait for him to return the goodbye. She had never seen the point to maintaining a conversation past pointlessness.

Iris and Evander were waiting for him and without a word his mother wrapped Rowan in a hug. Pulling back, she gave him a small smile, something a little sad about it. “I’m so proud of you, Rowan.”

Swallowing against the tightness building in his chest he just said, “Thanks, Mum.”

“You can only go up from here,” Iris said as they started back to the car. 

Gods, he hoped she was right. Rowan felt like he was finally catching his breath, and he couldn’t be sure, but he felt like he was seeing his first glimmers of true hope.

~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading! I know it's been a while... sorry.