#i kind of thought of him without realizing it

[pomefioredove]

Imagine the overbloat gang as fathers or like proud/panicking that their s/o is having a child and they don't know what to do

Imagine the gang trying to give their kids a goid life and getting baby fever like who wouldn't because the kid is literally a mixed of him and you and they gush about how much they love their s/o and children like ???????

Overbload gang as fathers and i will start violently sob

I do have a weakness for familial headcanons :) future au time??

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ as fathers

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral (no mentions of the child's origins), reader is not specified to be yuu, obviously takes place in the future

I think Riddle is one of the most reluctant to have children

for years he was strictly against them. his excuses were always that children are messy, unruly, his career, his relationship with you... but he was mostly just afraid of turning into his mother

as he gets older and forms his own identity, though, he realizes that it takes a lot of intentional effort to fuck up a child like his mom did, and he changes his mind

I can see him with... maybe two kids

he would never want an only child. after all, the bonds he made with his peers are what kept him going

he is a pretty good parent overall. maybe a little to focused on bedtimes and table manners, but the kids don't seem to mind

Trey and Che'nya babysit often (and it's always disastrous)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

talking Leona into the idea of fatherhood is like diffusing a bomb with a blindfold on. the guy won't even JOKE about it

if you do end up with a kid, it's unplanned, whether that be pregnancy or baby left on the doorstep

but he makes a surprisingly(?) good father. defo a girl dad, he would spoil a daughter rotten. lets her beat the daylights out of Neji because that's his little princess :)

parenting is really not as scary as he thought it was going to be

he has "I'm just resting my eyes" *falls asleep for 8 hours on the reclining chair in the living room* dad energy

the hardest part?

pretending to like vegetables in front of the kid to set a good example

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Azul would actually be an awesome dad idc. IDC!

he has a good relationship with his mom and stepdad (who definitely babysit all the time; they insist on it), so he has good role models

he's not even worried about how it'll affect his career! Azul has a "do it all" personality: businessman, entrepreneur, father, aspiring millionaire...

and he is so overprotective

he'd cover that kid in bubble wrap if you'd let him

but he's really more concerned about their feelings. sending them to school is much harder than closing a business deal

he's a little sensitive, but he knows he'll have to trust them eventually

P.S. the tweels are NOT allowed to babysit. bad influences

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jamil. ohhh Jamil :(

kids were never on the table for him, even after he met you and fell in love, he just... couldn't imagine it

regardless of whether or not he and his family are in a better place. (for the sake of this story, let's pretend they are. I want him to be happy) he just has so much generational trauma that he knows the child will end up with some, anyway

when, if, he's ready, it will still be a tough process. but worth it

he's such a supportive dad. bragging about his child at any chance, definitely the kind of dad to show everyone the baby pictures without being asked

it gets embarrassing for them as they grow, but he doesn't care

he thinks they're the greatest thing ever, and people should know that!

he is so proud

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil had always wanted to play a father on screen, but once he hits that age, he starts thinking about real life, too

he's gotten where he wants to be, after all: he's still young, he's in love, and his career, as successful as it is, is starting to wind down. so, why not?

he is the most supportive partner you could ask for. despite his schedule, he's involved in everything (yes, even the messy stuff)

he's got a customized baby bjorn and everything

I can see him with... one. just one is enough for him. he also has girl dad energy. he's already looking forward to playing princesses and letting her do his makeup (terribly, of course)

he knows his child will grow to have their own wants and thoughts and personality, and he's supportive. besides, if he has another Epel on his hands, he'll know how to handle them

just... gentler, this time

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

for you, anon, I will enterain the idea that Idia may someday reproduce. but there's still a 50% chance that kid is a robot

joking (kind of)

I don't think he'd even really want kids. considering his own unhappy childhood and the whole curse of his bloodline thing. but, like the others, he can be convinced!

I think he'd make a pretty good father, tbh. neurotic, sure, but he's not too clingy, nor too distant

whatever kids he has will be smart, and he trusts them. he likes teaching them nerdy stuff, too (finally, someone he can infodump to!!!)

he probably ends up with more than he'd think. 2 or 3

as long as you never bring up how cringe he was in college, he's rather mature and prepared for anything

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

out of the whole lineup, Malleus is the the only one to have thought your future children while at NRC. daydreamed, really

I know, not surprising. look at the guy. he's practically kicking his legs back and forth while coming up with baby names in game

it was just a fantasy at first, then you became closer, graduated, got older, and...

Lilia began teasing him about getting grandkids, and Malleus took him quite seriously

he knows he's still young (though, at his age, Lilia was already general), but he doesn't want to wait forever. you both have many long talks on the matter

and end up with... as many children as you can handle, basically

Malleus is somewhat of an awkward father (having been raised by Lilia will do that to you)

but he cares. and he tries! very hard. plus, there's always Lilia, Silver, and Sebek around to lend a hand

[rosesareredrosa]

West Coast

Theo Nott x fem reader

a/n: Literally having writers block and i am sick send requests pls

w/c: 1067

The salty tang of the sea hung in the air, mingling with the chill of the evening as the waves crashed against the cliffs. Theodore Nott stood at the edge, his dark hair tousled by the wind, his eyes fixed on the horizon. Somewhere far away, the world he once knew continued without him. Hogwarts. The war. The expectations that came with being a Nott. But here, on the west coast of Wales, the weight of his name seemed to slip away, carried off by the ocean breeze.

He could still hear her laugh.

Y/N. A name he wasn’t supposed to remember, let alone whisper in his thoughts. But here she was, lingering in the empty spaces between his breaths.

“You never belonged in their world,” she had told him once. Her voice had been soft then, but there had been fire in her eyes, the kind of fire that made him feel seen. Seen in a way no one had bothered to before. Y/N had always known too much, her gaze cutting through his indifference, her touch burning through his carefully crafted walls.

Theo had fought it at first. The feeling of being unmoored, of losing control around her. He had tried to keep his distance, tried to be the cold, untouchable boy everyone expected him to be. But it was futile. Every time she looked at him, every time she smiled that half-smile of hers, it felt like the ground was shifting beneath his feet.

“You're like a storm,” she had said once, fingers trailing over his jaw. “Beautiful. Dangerous.”

He had laughed at that. Dangerous? Maybe. But beautiful? No. He wasn’t one of the golden ones, like Draco or Blaise. His beauty was quieter, buried under shadows and secrets, something only she had ever seemed to notice.

And now he stood here, miles away from everything, and still, he couldn't shake her from his mind.

The memory of her burned like wildfire.

It had been during one of those nights when everything felt too loud—his bloodline, his future, his past—that he had shown up at her door. Hogwarts had been on the edge of war, tension crackling in the air like static. And somehow, amidst all the chaos, he had found his way to her.

“Theo?” Her voice had been soft but filled with surprise.

He didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Not when words didn’t feel enough.

Instead, he had kissed her. Roughly. Desperately.

He had expected her to pull away, to tell him he was being reckless, but she hadn’t. Instead, she had kissed him back with the same intensity, her fingers threading through his hair, grounding him in ways he hadn’t realized he needed.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she had whispered against his lips, but the words held no conviction.

“Tell me to leave, then,” he had murmured back, his hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer. “Tell me.”

But she hadn’t. She never did.

You’re feeling hot at the show, I’m feeling hot to the touch.

On the nights they were apart, Theodore found himself haunted by the way she made him feel. It was electric, the pull between them. A love that felt as dangerous as it was beautiful. He could still see her, the way she danced barefoot on the sands during their late-night escapes from Hogwarts. The world always faded away when it was just the two of them. The blood, the war, the expectations of their names—it all disappeared when she was with him.

But it couldn’t last. He knew it. She knew it.

“People like us don’t get happy endings, Theo,” she had told him one night, the light from the fire reflecting in her eyes as they lay under the stars.

“People like us don’t follow rules,” he had replied, fingers brushing against hers.

The rush, the fire, the wildness—it was everything.

Even now, with his feet on the rocky cliffs and her miles away, he could still feel her, like a pulse beneath his skin. A memory, yes, but more than that. Y/N was alive in him, a reminder of the boy he could’ve been if things had gone differently.

But they hadn’t.

Theodore turned, walking back towards the small cottage he had rented out, the one that overlooked the sea. The sun was dipping low in the sky, casting everything in hues of gold and crimson. It was beautiful in a way that made his chest ache, a reminder of all that he had lost, and all that he couldn’t keep.

And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking of her. The way she looked at him with defiance and softness all at once. The way her laughter had been loud, but her love had been quiet, gentle, slipping into the cracks of his heart when he hadn’t been paying attention.

I can see my baby swinging. His Parliament’s on fire and his hands are up.

He had chosen the war in the end. Or maybe it had chosen him. His name, his father, his birthright—there had been no escaping it. Theodore had walked a path set before him long before he had met her. And she had known. She had known and still loved him.

But loving someone like him came with a price.

The cottage was empty when he stepped inside, the silence ringing in his ears. He moved to the window, staring out at the waves that crashed against the shore, his hand pressed against the glass.

Would she still remember him?

The nights had been theirs once. Full of stolen moments, whispered secrets, and love that tasted like rebellion. But in the end, it hadn’t been enough. The war had swallowed them whole, and when it had spit him out on the other side, Y/N had been gone.

She had always been too good for his world.

Now, he was just a boy on the edge of something vast and lonely, yearning for a love that felt like sunlight slipping through his fingers.

And as the sky darkened, Theodore closed his eyes and let the memory of her wash over him. The wind whispered her name, and for a brief moment, he could almost feel her beside him, her fingers brushing against his skin like they had so many nights before.

But when he opened his eyes, there was nothing but the sea.

[giddlygoat]

laughter and shared smiles came so easily between them. from where ford lay on his side on the bed, he had the perfect view: a giggling fiddleford sprawled out lazily beside him, absentmindedly twirling a lock of beard with one pinky finger. it was downright adorable - almost like a snapshot from a bygone era - and ford treasured the sight. 

a kind of soberness suddenly washed over fiddleford, and his eyes became wide. “i jus’ remembered,” he said, barely, looking down. ford somewhat fixed his lax position on the bed in the hopes of expressing his undivided attention. 

fiddleford smiled sadly. “you’d pet my back when i laid facin’ you. it relaxed you.” 

ford felt his face get warm, as if he were the same awkward college kid and not 58 years too old for that. “…yes. it did.” he said dumbly. 

“what did i do when i needed to relax?” fiddleford asked, and his cadence was just too casual for a question like that. like it wasn’t all that important. ford felt something sour curl deep within him. 

“you’d… well, i… i’m not sure. you were always anxious about something.” ford wished more than anything that he had any skill at all in saying the right things at the right times. regretfully, all he could be in this moment was honest. “you fidgeted with your hair often. and mine,” he tacked on, suddenly remembering that detail of their nightly rituals. 

“i think it soothes you when you’re stressed. i see you stroke your beard a lot these days.” ford couldn’t help but smile at the endearing little habit. 

“can’t deny it,” fiddleford said, adjusting his head to get more comfortable in the pillows. then he reached out a slender arm, scratching softly in one of ford’s sideburns. the gesture brought that sour curling in ford’s gut back, but it also brought an overwhelming endearment. he stared at the content expression on fiddleford’s smiling face and greedily committed it to memory. 

“why’re you so down in th’ dumps today?” fiddleford asked, his smile not fading but a genuine concern evident in his eyes. 

“you mean more so than usual?” ford joked, meaning it earnestly.

fiddleford pulled himself up on his elbows, incidentally bringing their faces closer together. “i can… i can smell it all over y’ like the stench of death clingin’ to roadkill. nothin’ escapes me.” 

ford frowned. 

“well, ‘cept fer most o’ my memories, i suppose!” fiddleford giggled. ford frowned harder. 

after a beat of silence, fiddleford realized that ford really didn’t intend to respond. he sighed sadly, slowly leaning back against the headboard. “i know bein’ around me is hard fer you, stanferd. i may be ruined but i ain’t so clueless-” 

“no. no, you misunderstand.” ford corrected him immediately, looking quite fierce. “i feel empty without you,” he said clumsily, unable to properly parse his thoughts in time. 

“but ya also feel empty with me, dontcha?” fiddleford looked genuinely pleading for the first time in a while, and ford’s insides curdled at the vivid pain on his face. “i’m not- things’ll never be the way they oughta, and the both of us is just two sorry suckers, right?” 

“i’m sorry-“ 

“don’t.” fiddleford interrupted sternly, and ford worried that he would start shaking from the effort of holding his outstretched finger still. “don’t go apologizin’ again, or i’m gon’ta… i’ll jus’ tear my beard out.” all the conviction left him, and he stared defeatedly somewhere below ford’s eyes. 

“i’m-“ ford swallowed. “i won’t.” 

a long pause. ford internally scrambled for the right thing to say, eager to put fiddleford’s every worry to rest, but he just wasn’t equipped for that. he had no clue where to even start. what in the world was he supposed to be if not sorry? 

“do ya think y’ could be happy with me, th’ way things are?” fiddleford asked it quietly, his normally shrill voice sounding more weary than anything. 

ford’s chest tightened. if there were one thing in this world he could be absolutely sure of, it’s that he could never leave fiddleford’s side again. “yes. i’ve never been more certain of anything.” he said, emphasizing each word in the hopes of conveying his complete and utter seriousness. 

fiddleford sighed, still searching ford’s face. then he offered the smallest smile, the uncertainty slowly trickling away from his heart. “don’t run off.” he said, turning on his side to face ford. 

“i won’t,” ford promised. he reached over and laid a hand on fiddleford’s spiny back, stroking it soothingly. “i won’t.” 

[sanemistar]

⋅˚₊‧ ᡣ𐭩 ‧₊˚ ⋅ a blurry encounter — sunday

ᡣ𐭩 pairing: sunday x gn!reader ᡣ𐭩 genre: fluff ᡣ𐭩 warnings: none ᡣ𐭩 wc: 1k+ ᡣ𐭩 a/n: as someone who has to wear glasses at all times bc i have bad sight myself, this was a bit self indulgent, and i had a fun time writing this so i hope you enjoy it !!

𝜗𝜚 synopsis: reader who has bad sight accidentally bumps into sunday on their first day in penacony and casually asks him for help, not knowing who he is. requested. 𝜗𝜚 back: hsr m.list

it’s your first time in penacony, the land of dreams. you’ve been wanting to visit for a while, and now that you’re finally here, you’re super excited to explore around. there are so many places you want to visit, but you don't know from where to begin.

just when you're too caught in your own thoughts, someone bumps into you and your glasses hit the concrete, resulting them to shatter completely. you can't believe that this has just happened the moment you step in a foreign city, where you're all by yourself. with no one to help, your trip has been already ruined.

'no no no, this can't be happening... i'm doomed, i can't see anything without my glasses..' you mutter in your breath. you've been suffering from bad sight your whole life, so glasses are basically essential for you. without them, everything looks very blurry.

it’s so hard to walk around with bad sight, you’re unable to recognize your surroundings and you’re worried about looking dumb. you desperately try to navigate your way at night when it's pretty dark without your glasses, forced to wander around looking for a shop so you can get new glasses. but your vision fails you as you keep bumping into random strangers while muttering a series of apologies for not being careful.

'this is the worst...' you feel like crying when you bump into someone for like the tenth time or so, but this time, they stop. they don't pass by while yelling at you like the rest. your vision is very blurry, but you can tell he seems like a young man. his most notable feature is his silver hair, it shines beautifully under the moonlight.

"are you okay there?" his soft voice puts you in a trance. you haven't heard anyone ever speak like this, his voice holds a kind of elegance that you haven't heard of before. the aura around him also seems much more sophisticated than anything you've ever witnessed. you can't help but feel so lost in this mysterious man in front of you.

"well then if you excuse me." you snap out of your thoughts right before he walks away, as you decide to take the chance and ask this man to help you out since you know nothing here in penacony.

"wait!" you, not realizing who you're talking to, yell as you subconsciously grab the sleeve of his coat, causing him to stop moving. you can't properly see his facial expressions, but it seems that he's taken aback by your actions.

“i’m so sorry, sir. but can you please take me to the optical store? my glasses broke and i don't know my way around here. i will forever be in debt to you if you do.” at this point, you're begging for this stranger's help. normally, you wouldn't talk to random strangers, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

on the other hand, sunday isn't exactly the type to help out random strangers he has no relations to whatsoever, but something about you piques his interest, so he decides to follow you around and see what happens. very uncharacteristic of him to do something or make a decision on a whim.

"forever in debt you say.. fine, i'll help you out." he accepts your offer and you let a subconscious squeak in return. you begin to follow sunday, holding onto his arm for dear life. you just don't want to be separated from him and get lost in this big crowd, and for some reason, sunday never pushes you away from him.

on your way to the store, you get the strangest looks from all the passersby. obviously, you can't see their piercing stares because of your bad sight. everyone is shocked to see someone holding onto sunday this close. they can clearly tell that you're not a penacony citizen, given how you look and act. because if you're really someone from penacony, you'll know better than to act like that around someone as important as sunday.

after some walking around, you and sunday finally reach the store and you grab yourself a pair of new glasses. which sunday decides to pay for even after you insisting that you have the money for it, but he pays for it anyways. the moment you put the glasses on, you let a big sigh of relief now that you can see properly again. so your trip hasn't been completely ruined after all.

"thank you so much, sir! how can i repay yo-" you begin to thank sunday when a man rushes to you running.

"i've finally found you mr. sunday! i've been looking for you everywhere. the family needs you immediately, something urgent came up." you freeze in your tracks, did this man just say sunday? as in THAT sunday from THE family? even for someone who's not from penacony, you're well aware of the family's wide fame and strong impact, they're known to be the most important and influential people in penacony. everyone respects them, and to think that you've acted around him so casually without knowing who he is.

"well, things happened and i had some trouble there. but it's all good now. right, traveller?" he teases playfully as he looks at you. you immediately look down trying to hide your face from embarrassment.

"y-yeah. sorry for the trouble i've caused you, mr. sunday." you, being the trouble in question, apologize for all that has happened earlier. not daring to look up for once.

"if you really feel sorry, you should make up for it by going on a dinner with me tomorrow night. you'll pay though, remember? you're in debt now." he gives you a piece of paper, written on it is a restaurant's name, the time and brief instructions on how to get there. before you even get a chance to say anything else, sunday disappears along with the man. leaving you completely dumbfounded as you try to process what has just happened.

who would've thought that one blurry encounter would lead to you going out on a dinner with sunday out of all people? this has surely never been on your bucket list for this trip, but you're still willing to go and see what happens.

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @spkyssn @yueliie @ayrastv

[ayyy-pee]

hi lexi!! i hope you’re having a lovely day!! sooooo i saw you’re requests are open 👀 i totally loved your kny fics and was wondering if you’d write a little something about giyu and his wife experiencing the ups and downs of pregnancy?

AHHHH HI JESS!!! Thank you for sending in a request! I've been kind of itching to write Demon Slayer again lately so YES YES YES!!!! ABSOLUTELY!!!

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Demon Slayer Masterlist

Pairing: Tomioka Giyuu x Female Reader

Summary: Adjusting to being at home with you all the time is easy. Adjusting to this pregnancy, is not.

A little extra bit to Make It Stick!

“Let me help you.”

“I’ve got it.”

“But, you shouldn’t–”

“I’m pregnant, Giyuu. That doesn’t make me incapable of getting water. Doesn’t mean I cannot do our laundry. Or prepare a meal. Or stand up by myself.”

Giyuu watches as you, his wife, so beautiful and glowing in this stage of your late pregnancy, lean forward as you attempt to stand from your seated position on the floor. It’s unsuccessful, your very round belly limiting your motion. With a deep breath and a strained grunt, you try again. Giyuu struggles not to leap forward. You simply want a glass of water. It really shouldn’t be this difficult. But you’re strong, and he’s learned better than to get in the way of his determined spouse. So he simply stands rooted in his spot as your second attempt to stand turns out to be less successful than the first. And after about the fourth try, you reach for your husband. 

“Okay,” you pant heavily, waving your husband over. “The last one I may need help with.”

He smiles softly, quickly and carefully helping you to stand. 

As the days pass, and peace finally takes root throughout Japan, Giyuu finds himself spending most of his time home with you. There are no demons, no reason for the Hashira to gather unless it’s to simply catch up. And try as he might, Giyuu is not any more social than when he joined the ranks. There are no more late night excursions across prefectures. No need to ever lay his hand on a sword again.

The Hashira were lucky. They survived. But not without their own set of scars, both physical and mental. All that to say…

He’s restless.

- - - - - -

So, he was grateful that the day he had returned from a fight he did not think he’d come back from, he found you asleep, safe and sound in bed. He was so blinded by your beauty, by the glow the moonlight cast across your skin, that he failed to notice the roundness of you hidden beneath your blankets. He received quite the surprise when he slid into your bed and tried to wrap his arms around you, only to find your belly had grown quite a bit since he’d been gone.

The next morning, you happily showed off your new, round belly to your husband who donned a wide smile as you (and your child) modeled in his haori.

“You look…” His wide eyes drank in your ever-changing form. The bright smile on your face as your hands gently caressed your stomach, made his heart beat wildly behind his ribs. “There are no words,” he rasped, and he was surprised to see the immediate glassiness that overtook your eyes as you gazed at him. He wasn’t sure what triggered such a reaction, until you kneeled before him and cupped his face in your hands. You pressed your lips to his sweetly, and then your thumbs swiped along his cheeks. It was only then that he realized he was the one with the glassy eyes, the tears pouring down his face. You kissed him again, smiling when Giyuu finally gathered his thoughts enough to kiss you back.

You pull away, the both of you gazing softly into each other’s eyes, your love speaking so loudly in this silence. Until you snort, a soft giggle rushing past your lips.

“You can’t think of at least one word?”

- - - - - -

Adjusting to being home with you all the time was easy. Your presence was always comforting, always warm and cozy. Your presence was always gentle and soothing. You made anywhere feel like home. So being with you all the time…it was easy. Adjusting to your pregnancy was not.

It was adjusting to your mood swings. You once had Giyuu quivering in fear, backed into a corner as you let him have it over placing a utensil in the “wrong spot”. He had never seen you so worked up before, your fists trembling as you laid into him. He apologized profusely, swearing he would be careful and apologizing with a back rub later in the night that had you in tears, blubbering your own string of apologies for how you treated him earlier.

No apologies were needed. Giyuu had forgiven you the moment you had raised your voice.

But, Giyuu thinks you could have even struck fear into Muzan had he been unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of your wrath.

Another time, he found you weeping in your bath, upset that the cloth you used to bathe yourself was too far away (hanging on the other end of the bath) and you now couldn’t reach it. 

“It’s okay, love,” Giyuu cooed gently as he grabbed the cloth for you. But you were in hysterics, muttering about how you knew this was such a foolish thing to be crying over, but you just couldn’t seem to help yourself, swiping the tears from your cheeks. Giyuu didn’t mind, of course. He quickly stripped out of his clothes and climbed into the water with you. You quietly sobbed against him as your husband helped you to wash yourself.

He tucked you into bed after, ordering you to rest while he completed the household chores you were so determined to finish today (he made sure to put everything in its proper place).

Then, there was one other time when you made Giyuu walk you all the way to Kanroji’s home because you had to have pancakes and butter. He’d never tried it before, but had heard from Tanjiro, and you, that they are quite delicious. If it was what you wanted, he was happy to oblige. 

So he made the journey with you without question, watching as Kanroji eagerly wrapped her arms around you the moment she’d opened the door.

There are no longer secrets among the Hashira. They are aware of Giyuu’s status as a married man who is soon to be a father. They’ve all met you, and they all love you. Which is why Kanroji was more than happy to whip up pancakes and butter for you to happily enjoy together with tea. And it’s why she was also happy to prepare extra to send home with you.

“Please let me know when the baby arrives!” Kanroji cheers. “Obanai and I will make the journey to see you all!”

Your smile is wide and so, so happy and Giyuu is surprised to find that he mirrors your expression as you and Kanroji hold hands and become immersed in conversation.

It’s a pleasant journey home, you going on and on about how delicious your sweet treats were. You’re in good spirits! But it doesn’t last long, as the moment you get home, you’re rushing to the bathroom where you get sick. You spend the rest of the day in bed.

Adjusting to being at home with you all the time is easy. Adjusting to this pregnancy, is not.

- - - - - -

Today, you are happy. The smile he missed so much is back, and the color has returned to your face. You don’t look sickly, as you did just a few days prior and your energy has seemed to return as well. Giyuu suggested you go into town to try and find essentials for the baby. You won’t be out long, though. You’re due to give birth any day now, and it’s hard for you to stand for long periods of time due to the weight of the baby.

But you’re humming, eyes scanning the goods at each stand as you gently rub your belly. You speak with the merchants, purchase what you deem is necessary, and you hand it to your husband who follows quietly behind you. He’s essentially the bag man today. He doesn’t mind. Not when your joy is radiating off of you. Not when you’re glowing so beautifully. 

You’re draped in Giyuu’s haori, your favorite article of clothing lately.

“I just love to smell you these days,” you told him when he’d found you wearing it in the garden one morning. “I suppose the baby does, as well.”

These days, he finds you wear his haori more than he does. And it makes Giyuu feel eternally grateful, makes him feel so blessed. Blessed that he survived. Blessed that he was able to get back to you. Blessed that he is present for this journey and all of its ups and downs. Blessed that he is the man lucky enough to love and be loved by you. And soon, blessed to be able to hold the one created by both of your love.

Giyuu watches on, a tiny smile curling at the corners of his lips as he watches you adorably waddle your way to another stand. And he finds that maybe adjusting to your pregnancy is not as hard as he thought.

[warping-realities]

A Night in the Devil's Den - Part III

Fred was just stepping out of the bathroom next to the main stage when he witnessed Mark's transformation firsthand.

He was still dumbfounded, trying to come up with excuses for what he saw—it must have been some kind of light trick, but Mark wasn’t the type to pull a stunt like that. That was more Jamie's style; maybe he convinced Mark to get into this. Yeah, it had to be something like that, he thought, coming up with justifications as he decided to head back to the bar to look for his friends and get an explanation for all this. Just as he was about to take his first step, someone spoke to him.

“It could have been you! But now another kind of life awaits you.” Turning around quickly, Fred found himself face to face with the club’s bouncer, who was smiling enigmatically at him.

Not wanting to get into trouble and fighting the curiosity to ask the man what the hell he meant, Fred continued on his way. Halfway to the bar, weaving through the crowd, he spotted the performer Marco, all sweaty, strutting on stage toward the VIP area where the club manager was grinning at him. Finally stopping, he flexed his muscles.

“What a freak show,” Fred thought, but he couldn’t look away. “Why and how did Mark get into this? And how the hell did that transformation happen?” he pondered, diverting his gaze when the two men began kissing passionately, but not before sneaking one last peek and seeing them both looking right at him, smirking as if they knew something he didn’t. Which was probably true. He needed to find those two jerks and get the hell out of there.

As he approached the bar, he got shoved by one of the muscular drunks dominating the place. “Where had all the women gone?” He was sure there had been a ton of them when they arrived. Picking himself up, he realized he somehow ended up behind the bar. A young Latino man in his twenties looked at him, grinning like he knew him.

“There you are, Papi! I’ve been waiting for you all night!”

“What the hell was this?” He didn’t know who this guy was, but there was something in his eyes…

“Jamie?”

“It’s Javi, you’re hurting my feelings, Papi, after you took my ass so hard, you forget my name like that…” The younger guy said, stepping closer while his smile fading.

He needed to get out of there; something was seriously wrong, and he had to leave—now! Without thinking twice, he stood up and bolted.

When he reached the entrance, he once again bumped into the mysterious Mr. Shay, who was caressing and kissing Marco—or was it actually Mark?

Seizing the chance to escape that madhouse, he slipped out the door, breathing a sigh of relief for a moment before running smack into the massive black bouncer, who stared him down as if daring him to leave.

With no way out, he turned back only to find himself facing an even scarier sight. Mr. Shay, this time alone but with those massive horns on display, and Fred was sure the guy didn’t have time to put on any kind of prosthetics. To make matters worse, he heard the man’s voice inside his head.

“Fred, Fred, Freddie, always the weakest, always humiliated, needing to learn to fight with words because no one ever taught you how to use your fists. But does it have to be this way? Let me show you another option, Freddie; if you refuse to accept it, you can walk out that door, and no one will stop you, not even Hank out there, though I think he’ll be disappointed; he seems to have taken a liking to you.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“That offends me, Freddie; I always give my clients a choice. You should know that from all the stories going around about me, most of them lies, but this one’s true. Plus, you don’t have choice.” The demon said as Fred fell into a dark abyss.

The first image he saw was of a blond kid like him talking to a strong, muscular older man.

“… Frank, you have to be strong; our land is surrounded by enemies, the Soviet Union has fallen, and independence will come, but we will always be surrounded by foes.”

… you have to be strong… be strong…

He was strong; by seventeen, he was a prodigy in various forms of combat, including Brazilian jiu-jitsu, boxing, and Krav Maga. He honored his father's request, becoming a man of few words but decisive actions.

… decisive actions… actions….

“Action will unfold at the border, and anyone who dares think it shouldn’t be taken seriously will have to deal with me.”

Lieutenant František Andel of the Czech Republic Army was known for his ruthlessness, always ready for war.

… ready for war… war…

The Russian invasion of Ukraine put all the states previously belonging to the Soviet Union on high alert, and the Czech Republic was one of the first to provide all possible humanitarian and military aid to the country. Frank was sent to ensure the delivery of projectile shipments, although under strict orders not to get involved in the conflict. What he didn’t expect was to meet Bohdan, a young man 15 years his junior, forced by circumstances to serve his country. Bohdan wasn’t like him; he was a sensitive, affectionate kid with a fantastic ass. Against everything he should have done, Frank let himself get involved, only to see the kid taken from him, which made all of Frank’s rage surface, causing him to lose his head and attack the Russians mercilessly in the midst of his despair.

… despair… despair… no mercy…

Frank looked mercilessly at the desperate face of his opponent, more than a year after Bohdan’s death, and he felt nothing—no pleasure, no anger, just a huge void that even the violent underground fights or the booze he downed every night couldn’t fill.

… booze… fill….

“What do you want?” he asked with a serious face while waiting for the owner of the dive fill hiss glass, maybe the seventh or eighth of the night, although deep down he knew that not all the booze in the world would be able to satisfy him.

“I have a job offer for you, a new beginning, new possibilities, maybe new… lover.” The man said with a smile.

The flood of information was so overwhelming that Fred could barely move. Still, with all the effort in the world, he turned and bolted for the door. Only to hear the demon’s voice whisper in his ear. “Unfortunately for you, Fred, my deal was made with Jamie; you were never my client.” Then with a single step, that torrent of information flooded his mind once more, with many more scenes and memories, as his body expanded, muscles piling on, covered by the black security uniform, and his young face aged a decade and a half until it became a tribute to rugged masculinity, and František found himself in front of his boss back inside the club.

“Called for me, boss?”

“Yes, Frank, Poncho came to talk to me about your relationship with his nephew. As antiquated as it may be, he wants to know what your intentions are with the kid. And since the man has been with me for centuries, I can’t ignore his concerns.”

“He doesn’t need to worry, boss; I have the best intentions for his nephew.”

“As the saying goes, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

“With all due respect, sir, I don’t believe in hell. Hell is in our heads, and I’ve already lived mine, and I won’t miss the chance to find happiness before another hell comes.”

“How can you say you don’t believe in hell while working here, working for me?”

“Honestly, sir, if this is hell and you really are the devil, which I don’t think you are, I wouldn’t mind spending eternity here!”

“You flatter me, Frank! Now go find Poncho and calm his heart before you replace Hank; he’s itching for some fun.”

Frank walked through the club with all the confidence of someone who knew a single word from him could end any trouble, although deep down he longed for the chance for a good fight.

When he arrived at the bar, he didn’t find Poncho, but standing at the door leading to a secret room was Javier, looking at him with a seductive gaze.

“Did I do something wrong, Papi, for you to ignore me like this?”

“I’m not ignoring you, kid; I just had to sort out an urgent issue, and besides, your uncle was around. He was complaining to the boss, so I need to find him to talk about my intentions with you.”

“And what intentions are those, Papi?”

“The most serious ones possible, Javi.”

“How boring, Papi, because right now all I wanna do is have some fun.” The younger guy said, turning and swaying his hips seductively into the room, and Frank couldn’t resist following him inside with a smile on his face.

The two were wrapped up after some wild sex in the mirrored room overlooking the dance floor and stage of the club that the boss liked to use sometimes to feel like everyone was watching him while he pulled off the most unimaginable acts of depravity, although those on the other side couldn’t actually see anything through the glass.

“We need to go; our break is almost over, and I still haven’t talked to your uncle.” Frank said, getting up and pulling the smaller man close.

“Just one more kiss, Papi!” Javier said, attacking the bigger man with a passionate kiss until they were interrupted.

“I thought you were going to talk to Poncho, Frank. Instead, you came to deflower his nephew.” The boss commented, smiling, accompanied by the Italian porn star who was one of his regular partners.

“Sorry, boss, I didn’t find Poncho, so…”

“… so you decided to use my room to satisfy your carnal needs.”

“Sorry, sir, it won’t happen again.”

“Certainly not, because next time I’ll be joining you.” The man said, grinning. “Now go; Hank is gonna lose the little hair he has left if you don’t replace him soon. But Javi stays; Marco and I are gonna play a little. I hope there’s no problem with that.”

“No, sir, Javi can play with whoever he wants, as long as he knows the serious stuff is only with me. But I gotta say, after the speech you made about me needing to talk to Poncho…”

“Ahhh, hypocrisy is one of the perks of being the devil, my dear.” The boss replied with a mischievous smile.

….

“I see you didn’t waste any time.” Frank commented as he saw Hank approaching, wearing shorts and loafers instead of the uniform pants and boots.

“I gotta be quick before all the good ones are taken. You already put your paws on Poncho’s nephew, and I’m not crazy enough to try anything with the boss’s Italian. Though maybe I shouldn’t worry too much.”

“Why not?”

“Take a look at who’s coming over there.” Hank said, nodding toward a group of three young guys who were smiling as they walked toward them at the front of the line.

“Jerome’s group?” Frank asked.

“Jerome’s group.” Hank replied, grinning. “Hope you manage to catch at least some of the fun.”

“Oh, I’ll find a way. I’ll see you inside.” He replied before strutting confidently toward the boys.

“Hey, fellas, what do you want here?” he asked, feeling a sense of déjà vu.

“Good night, sir! Jerome told us to go straight to the bouncer at the main door and said that he hopes… that he hopes you… you have a… a hell of a night.” One of the braver kids said, or maybe just the most daring.

“Jerome, huh? IDs?”

“Here you go, sir.” One of them said, handing over the IDs he knew were fake, though he still made a point to scrutinize them with a serious look, just to intimidate the boys a little.

“Any problem, sir?”

“Nope, on the contrary, looks like you guys got VIP passes. Jerome must’ve liked you a lot.” He said while fiddling with a walkie-talkie before speaking again. “Jerome’s group is on the way.” He radioed before handing the IDs back to the kids and cracking a smile.

“Boys, looks like we’re all in for a hell of a night!”

[i-starcreamed]

Beggingggg for a Megatron (Transformers One) x kind male reader who looked up to him not as a friend but as a small crush. Megatron saw jt at first when he was D-16 and didn’t think much until when he declared to kill their leader (did not like him that I forgot his name) and tries to take advantage of the readers fondness towards him to make him join his side. The reader knows it’s wrong and declines which turns into a small argument about why the reader should join them..

THINKS OF SOME TOXIC TANGO OF LOVE AND LOYALTY WHERE ONE ISNT SURE—

MEGATRON X READER

Basically megop but with Y/N. You two are divorced YOU COULD HAVE BEEN SO MUCH MORE!! Also I don’t mention pronouns that often in my work but I’m tagging this as male reader :3

[cybertronian! male reader Angst AGAIN 😭 not that much though, you guys just argue a lil]

As D-16, he hadn’t thought much of your crush. He knew you as the mech who treated everyone with kindness, a trait he silently admired. You were almost an even softer version of Orion, gentle to a fault sometimes.

You were with them when you went to find the Primes, there, you uncovered the truth as they did. You watched as D-16's expression fell with every detail revealed about Sentinel and..everything he did.

Gesturing for him to follow you, you pulled him aside. He did so without hesitation—he knew you had no ill intent. Maybe his entire life had been a lie, but at least you were still there. As genuine as ever.

"I can’t believe…” he muttered, his voice strained. His optics moved across the ground, he had to blink rapidly to snap himself out of whatever thoughts he was having. You quickly placed a comforting servo on his shoulder, grounding him before he could spiral.

“D, look at me. I can’t believe it either,” you whispered, locking optics with him.

“We’re going to stop him…okay? I’m here with you.” You murmured. Was it a confession? Maybe so.

Your words hung in the air, heavy with hesitation. “I’ll follow you anywhere. We’ll get through this..together.”

D eyed you, his own voice faltering for a second.

“Yeah… yeah, okay.” He exvented, his optics again panning towards the ground as he let you comfort him. Despite the small flutter in his spark, the sudden goal to make Sentinel pay overrode any other emotion. He will pay.

When D-16 spiraled into Megatron, you were the first he sought out. His eyes were not the vibrant golden they used to be. You questioned him, to which he eagerly—almost desperately, held onto your shoulders in response.

“Y/N…listen to me. Do you trust me?”

“..I do trust you.”

“Then join me, come with me. I know how I’m going to make Sentinel pay for his lies. Unlike Orion's plan, I will make sure it gets done.”

You slightly shook your helm, “But D.. you two should be working together. Not split apart. I don’t want you doing anything uh.. extreme.”

His optics turned cold, narrowing in anger. “Extreme? You call my ideas extreme? Sentinel was the one that has been keeping us as slaves,” He hissed, inching towards you. “For years, for years, I thought we were doing the right thing. But no, everything was a lie. You, Y/N—you have to understand”

You watched in horror as Megatron killed Sentinel. He should have been satisfied now, but he wasn't. He called upon an army. Freedom fighters, but now they fought for a cause that no longer needed fighting. From his elevated position on the structure above, you locked optics.

His gaze flickered, just for a moment, as he took in the fear in your expression. Once, you looked up to him as someone you admired. Hell, you thought you loved him. Deep down, a part of you still did.

He’s still D-16, maybe. He must be, right?

You realized maybe you did have different ideals, different goals. To you, it should have ended when Sentinel was exposed. Then you had no option, perhaps after his death? You all would have rebuilt Cybertron together. Maybe even properly confess to D. Things just didn't go as planned in many ways.

But now, you could only watch as he descended the stairs toward you, his steps slow and deliberate.

You flinched, feeling his servo against the side of your helm. He stopped a couple inches away from you, leaning down, his voice a low hiss,

“Do you see it now, Y/N? That…I did that for you. For us.” His fingers traced the ridges of your helm, a caress that made your spark stutter in confusion. He was never, ever, this bold as D-16.

“I want you to join me. We can do this together.”

You hesitated, still trying to process how affectionate he was being with you. As much as you've dreamt of this, there was something off about it. D-16 was always soft, and casual about his demeanor. This Megatron was intense, his red optics burning into yours.

“Megs…I can’t.” You murmured. This was wrong. Very very wrong.

Megatron raised a brow, “You cannot?”

His servo shifted, cupping your chin and tilting your helm upward to meet his gaze. “Tell me something, Y/N. Are you a liar too?”

You furrowed your brow, “What? No, no, I haven’t lied to yo—“

“You said you’d follow me anywhere," He interrupted, "I need you to do that now.” He said in a softer tone, but you heard the hint of menace in his voice. It was an order, not a plead.

You took a deep intake, slowly stepping back from his grasp—his servo hung in the air for a moment before falling to his side.

“I don’t want to kill anyone, Megatron. I’m sorry, I can’t do this with you.” You said firmly, your voice steady. You had made up your mind.

His teeth clenched, frustration flaring in his optics as he stepped closer again, closing the distance between you two.

“Where is loyalty when you need it the most!? Where is it?! Tell me!” He exclaimed, his outburst making you take another step back.

Your optics flickered back to where Orion and your friends should be, then back at Megatron. “I want to be with you, Megs, I do. But this fight.. it’s over. Sentinel is dead.”

You stepped forward despite your frantic sparkbeat, your servos grasped onto his which were balled into fists.

“Come with me. We can help build Cybertron together, all of us. I need you to trust me.” You urged softly.

For a moment, you thought you had reached him. His optics softened, and his fists slowly unclenched, his gaze drifting to where your servos held his.

“I don’t want to rebuild Cybertron,”

He slowly scowled, his servos tightened around yours.

“I want to fix it.”

He turned away, leaving you standing in the dust and debris. You coughed, the air thick with smoke, watching him disappear into the distance with Primus knows how many High Guard fliers behind him.

You begin to wonder if you made the right choice. You wanted your D-16 back, but you couldn't bear the death and destruction that came along with Megatron.

As doubt crept in, you realized one terrible truth.

He had already won you over.

[hyperfixationsporfavor]

The Secret Garden (Sukuna x Reader)

Author's Note: Hey guys. In honor of the final chapter being released I'm sharing this fic I wrote awhile ago. It's just taken me a bit to edit. I hope to keep writing jjk fics even if the series is over. Thoughts and feeling are always appreciated. Enjoy!

Warnings: character death, implied character death, jjk manga spoilers, true form sukuna

“I am a curse.”

“I am an unwanted child.”

Unwanted?

~

Sukuna watched from a distance as you tended to your garden, something you had cultivated during your time in his temple. Uraume stood dutifully behind him as he continued to observe from the shadows. 

“Perhaps you’d like to join her, my lord?”

“Are you attempting to give me orders Uraume?”

The white haired vassal bowed their head, the faintest smirk on their face hidden from view. “My apologies, my lord. I’d be remiss if I didn’t remind you of your meeting with Lady Tengen. She’s awaiting your presence in the throne room.”

“Tell her I’ll be there in a moment…and wipe that damn look off your face.”

They bowed again and promptly dismissed themself. 

Sukuna turned his attention back to the garden to find you hovering over a small shrub. He ventured towards you with a budding curiosity. 

It really was magnificent what you were able to accomplish in the year that you had started this project. 

The once desolate space of dead branches and unkempt dirt had been transformed into a collection of flowers, herbs, and vegetables all surrounding a small pond. It was vibrant and inviting, rejuvenated by the care you gave it. 

Sukuna closed the gap between you and you turned around with a start. With a hand on your chest you exhaled in relief. 

“You gave me a fright,” you sighed. “I thought you were supposed to be meeting with your former teacher today.”

Sukuna crossed both sets of his arms. “She’ll wait.”

This was unfamiliar to the proclaimed King of Curses. Having interests in what lowly non sorcerers like you did. And yet here he was drawn to you, your warm presence and kind smile.

“What are you doing?” he asked. “ You don’t usually come out here this time of day.”

You smiled at him, causing a feeling to pool through his chest.

“I didn’t realize you kept such a close eye on me, Lord Sukuna.”

Before he could scold you for your cheekiness you gestured back to your shrub. 

“It seems we have a visitor.”

A small slug had latched itself onto a singular leaf. Sukuna wrinkled his nose. “Have Uraume get some salt. That should kill it.”

You shook your head. 

Instead, you plucked the leaf off the shrub and walked towards a bush in the corner of the garden, the master of the temple trailing after you. The leaves had withered into a dull brown. You gently transferred the slug onto one of the dying leaves. The creature slithered around its new home. 

“Why not just kill it?” he asked.

You turned your attention back to Sukuna. “Because it has a place here.”

“To do what? Destroy what you’ve cultivated? Why would you allow such a pathetic little thing to do that?”

You chuckled. “I appreciate your concern, my lord. But without this slug the dead leaves would remain and the other creatures would be without a meal when they visited.”

Sukuna ran his hand through his hair. “A lot of care for something as weak as a fly head.”

You paused for a moment.

“Then, why allow me here Lord Sukuna?” you asked.

Sukuna remained silent so you continued your line of questioning. “Surely in your eyes I am no different from a garden slug, weak and superfluous. So why allow me to remain?”

Sukuna glared at you with a stern expression that began to make you worry. You had grown more comfortable with him during your stay at the temple. But had you crossed a line?

“Would you compare a rose to a weed?”

The feeling that had coursed through Sukuna began to make its way through your chest as you realized what he thought of you. 

Before you could say anything a voice rang out through the courtyard. 

“Ryomen, I don’t have all day.”

Sukuna turned to face Tengen, his former teacher unchanged from their first meeting in his youth. 

“Come,” she gestured. “We have pressing matters to discuss.”

He looked back to find you gone. 

~

Damn you Yuji Itadori.

He knew his stay in this strange new world would be short, mirroring his swift departure from his time. It was inevitable. He had always been reckless, forever indulgent to his desires for adrenaline and bloodlust. And yet, despite that, he felt anger. His new state as a small lumpish creature was almost as humiliating as how he was defeated. 

That girl, the one his former host had called Nobara. He had been bested by those brats. 

The King of Curses had fallen. 

His rage only increased as the young boy picked him up and held him in his palm.

That brat and his damn pity. He loathed how he cradled him delicately with care. The understanding expression on his face was enough to make him see white as he began to burn away. 

I am a curse.

The image of a rose in a garden remained as Yuji’s voice became distant. 

He had been banished to the afterlife by the world of the living. 

I am an unwanted child. 

A hand reached out from the darkness from behind Sukuna and pulled him back. Then another one. And another. Soon a cluster of rotting limbs began to drag him further and further away from the rose. A light began to break through the darkness above him, blinding the dethroned king. 

When his vision cleared he saw you, standing before him in heavenly white robes with a sorrowful look on your face. 

You reached out and held his face in your hands. 

He was in awe. 

Yes. 

Yes. 

He remembered how you held him. Your compassion. No matter how hard he tried to abandon his human heart you had found a way to remind him of how painfully mortal he was and would always be. 

He loathed you, because he loved you.

You were wanted. 

The hands were persistent and he began to fall, the light engulfing you as you were whisked away to a place where demons like him were forbidden. 

The dethroned king welcomed the flames of hell that embraced him. 

He let out a final sigh as he became nothing. 

The curse that never was and a human no more. 

~

The End. 

[xoxochb]

percy jackson with a hades daughter please😩

(love your writing btw🩷🩷)

— you must like me for me

warnings: none pairing: percy jackson x daughter of hades a/n: my cabin my cabin my cabin!!!

୨୧ sunshine x grumpy trope my beloved

୨୧ first thing I want to talk about is the short ass tempers of hades kids. I can speak from experience I’ve got the shortest temper ever

୨୧ hades kids can kill upon their will and you would use this to your full advantage if the idiotic percy jackson didn’t prevent you from doing so

୨୧ like I mean some kid could’ve pissed you off over something stupid I’m not even sure— let’s say they took your reading spot even if it’s not really yours but it is because you silently claimed it

୨୧ and you’re angry as FUCK. like I’m talking rising the dead- darkened eyes- fists balled up kind of angry

୨୧ and what kind of boyfriend is percy if he allows you to kill a kid over something stupid? you think, personally, he would be the best. percy on the other hand thinks it’s not morally acceptable

୨୧ he’s also trying to save your rep because in camp hades kids are typically frowned upon because your father being the god of the dead and all they think you’re all weird and emo

୨୧ and percy hates seeing you bullied by the other campers over this so he calms you down before anything happens, successfully keeping the live of the camper who stole your spot

୨୧ anyways let’s talk about when you first met

୨୧ percy was ecstatic about meeting another child of the big three— but you’re absolute resting bitch face scared the shit out of him

୨୧ but when he finally talked to you he realized your personalities wasn’t half as bad as your appearance (not that he thought your appearance was bad— you were gorgeous but horrifying)

୨୧ anyways I wanna do dating hcs now

୨୧ sarcastic 🤝🏼 even more sarcastic

୨୧ IMAGINE LMAO

୨୧ with both you and percy and you’re insane sarcasm you’d be unstoppable, truly. like just talking shit about people all the time I can’t 😭

“oh my gods she’s just the nicest person I’ve ever met!”

“right? so happy and bubbly!”

୨୧ en e ways…

୨୧ I’m not sure if this is just my opinion and it’s probably not cannon but hades kids (along with the apollo kids) have the best relationship with their godly parent so your visits to the underworld are frequent

୨୧ you ended up bringing percy once without realizing the issue your dad had with him

୨୧ long story short he’s not allowed to visit with you anymore

୨୧ and when you take your trips down under percy begs you not to go claiming your dad is such ‘an awful god!’ and he ‘would miss you and cry himself to sleep’ if you left

୨୧ dramatic much?

୨୧ anyways I don’t wanna yap too much but I have more more thing I want to say really quickly is double dates with nico and will because how cute would that be 😣😣

୨୧ I feel like overtime you would make them like every wednesday or something like a weekly thing idk just for funsies

୨୧ but I’ll wrap this up now 10/10 relationship would definitely recommend <33

[blackenedsnow]

I have the cutest thought, imagine Shadow x fem Mitsuri like reader where she’s so sweet and kind and very oblivious at times and very strong too, like imagine shadow develops a crush on her and basically is like Obanai to her, I can see sonic is pestering him if he has a crush or something until it’s noticeable that shadow has a soft spot when it comes to mitsuri reader😭

soft as chaos

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Shadow The Hedgehog x (Fem) Reader

NOTE: This is such an adorable idea! But I did NOT read or watch demon slayer... i have friends OBSESSED with it though so I really hope I got this right!!

SUMMARY: Shadow prides himself on being cold and distant, focused on his mission and nothing else. But ever since he met you, a cheerful, sweet, and surprisingly powerful girl, he’s found himself in an unfamiliar situation.

You were humming softly to yourself as you trained, punching a nearby tree in rhythmic patterns, each strike stronger than the last. The air around you shimmered from the impact, yet you smiled warmly, oblivious to the sheer power behind your punches.

Shadow watched from a distance, his arms crossed, leaning against a nearby boulder. You always did this—pushed yourself to your limits, yet remained so humble and kind, never realizing just how much strength you truly had. It was one of the things he admired about you. Though he’d never say that out loud.

He huffed, glancing away to regain his usual stoic demeanor. He didn’t understand how someone could be both incredibly strong and so… soft. His chest tightened when he saw you wiping sweat from your forehead, looking as cheerful as ever despite the intense workout.

“Hey, Shadow!” you called out, waving at him. “Want to join me? It’s a beautiful day to train!”

His heart did that thing again, that annoying skip it had been doing every time you smiled at him lately. “I’m fine,” he replied coolly, trying to keep his voice steady. “You’re strong enough without me.”

You giggled, completely unaware of the effect you were having on him. “Oh, stop! I’m still learning, but thank you! You’re really sweet sometimes, you know?”

Sweet? Shadow frowned, feeling heat rise to his face. Him? Sweet? No one had ever called him that before. “I’m not sweet,” he muttered, but you were already back to your training, throwing powerful kicks that caused the ground beneath you to shake slightly.

Just as Shadow was about to slink away to avoid further embarrassment, Sonic zipped up next to him, a playful grin plastered on his face.

“Heyyy, Shadow,” Sonic drawled, nudging him with his elbow. “You’ve been watching her for a while now, huh?”

Shadow glared at him. “What do you want, Sonic?”

Sonic smirked, leaning in closer. “I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been, oh I don’t know, paying extra attention to someone lately. Come on, you got a little crush or something?”

Shadow’s expression darkened. “Tch. Don’t be ridiculous.”

But Sonic wasn’t buying it. He watched as you cheerfully finished your training and wiped the dirt off your hands, completely oblivious to the conversation happening about you. “You can’t fool me, Shadow. You’ve got that look in your eyes.”

Shadow’s scowl deepened, but before he could come up with a retort, you skipped over, smiling brightly at both of them.

“Hi, Sonic! How are you?” you asked sweetly.

Sonic gave you a friendly grin. “Doing great, especially now that I’ve got some juicy info on ol' Shadow here.”

Your eyes widened innocently. “Juicy info? What kind of info?”

Shadow’s stomach sank. This was exactly what he had been trying to avoid.

Sonic snickered and glanced over at Shadow. “Oh, you know, just wondering if Shadow here has been, uh, developing any special feelings for someone.”

You blinked, clearly confused, but still smiling. “Feelings? For who?”

Shadow’s heart thudded in his chest. “Sonic—”

But Sonic, never one to let things go, only grinned wider. “Oh, you know, just thinking maybe he has a little soft spot for someone strong, sweet, and maybe just a tiny bit oblivious.”

You tilted your head, still not catching on. “Someone like that? Wow, that sounds like a great person! I’d like to meet them.”

Shadow mentally groaned. He could practically hear the amusement radiating off Sonic as the blue hedgehog waggled his eyebrows.

“Maybe you already have, huh?” Sonic teased, clearly enjoying how uncomfortable Shadow was becoming.

You furrowed your brow, looking between them, and then your face lit up with realization. “Wait, are you talking about me?”

Sonic couldn’t help but burst into laughter, nodding. “Bingo!”

Your face flushed pink as you giggled, waving your hands dismissively. “Oh no, I’m sure Shadow doesn’t feel that way about me! We’re just friends!”

Shadow cleared his throat, trying desperately to regain control of the situation. “That’s right. We’re just—”

But his words were cut off when Sonic smirked at him knowingly. “Come on, Shadow, just admit it. She’s strong, she’s sweet, and you’ve totally got a soft spot for her.”

Shadow felt his face heat up again. He glanced over at you, your wide, innocent eyes looking at him with curiosity. And in that moment, he knew there was no way to hide it anymore.

Sonic was right. You were sweet, you were strong, and despite his best efforts to keep his emotions locked away, he did have a soft spot for you. You were his soft spot.

He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before finally speaking. “He's not... wrong.” he muttered quietly.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Wait… really?”

Shadow looked at you, feeling more vulnerable than he ever had before. “Yes,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re strong, kind, and… you’re dear to me.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you smiled softly, still a little oblivious but clearly touched. “Oh, Shadow… that’s so sweet of you to say. You’re important to me too.”

Sonic grinned, giving Shadow a playful slap on the back. “Well, well, looks like the ultimate lifeform has a heart after all.”

Shadow shot him a glare, but there was no hiding the slight smile tugging at his lips. Even if Sonic was a pain, and even if you were completely unaware of how much you meant to him, there was something comforting about being honest with himself—especially when it came to you.

[anastasiareadsnwrites]

Can I request Anthony Bridgeton angst marrying a commoner and then having a fight with her because she did something society would find wrong or something that is out of class. With a happy ending

Baby Hotline Part I (Anthony Bridgerton x Fem! Reader)

Part I

Author's note: Hiya, so I was originally going to make this a one-shot with smut in the end, but I changed my mind and decided to make this a series. Don't worry! There will be smut just follow up with the series or parts, and it'll be there

Summary: As you wed into the Bridgertons, you can help but feel how you don't belong there. So you try to fit in but only to make things worse. Anthony has never raised his voice before, and you can't help but fall back into place as the dutiful wife of Viscount Anthony Bridgerton.

Warning(s): Angst, yelling, Anthony doesn't realize what damage he had caused, commer! Reader, Violet is a good mother, family drama

The MAIN Masterlist

The Bridgerton Masterlist

You’d thought marrying Anthony Bridgerton would be the answer to your dreams. A grand wedding, promises of a beautiful future, and stepping into the prestigious Bridgerton family. But as the days passed, a quiet dread began to settle in. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you didn’t belong. The house was too grand, the customs too foreign, and the expectations weighed heavy on your shoulders. Even Violet, with all her kindness, carried a composed presence that made you feel out of place, like a commoner trying to wear the crown of a queen.

Today, though, things were different. Anthony had been distant, distracted, and tense. You tried to keep up with the roles expected of you—smiling at dinners, speaking in that carefully measured tone—but it all seemed wrong. The weight of it all finally came crashing down at dinner.

Anthony’s jaw clenched as he glared at you from across the table. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” His voice, though restrained, carried a fury you’d never heard from him before.

You blinked, taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“This afternoon. At the garden party. You spoke about... politics in front of Lady Danbury and the others. And then—" he paused, eyes narrowing—"you mentioned working before we were married. Do you have any idea how improper that was?”

“I... I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t!” he snapped, his voice rising. “You’re not supposed to think about things like that. You’re supposed to represent this family with dignity.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. This wasn’t the man you had married, the one who looked at you with adoration, the one who promised that he loved you for who you were. You felt a sharp sting in your chest as his words echoed in your mind.

“I thought you married me because you loved me,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Not because I could fit into this world.”

Anthony’s face softened for a moment, but the tension didn’t leave his shoulders. “I do love you, but you can’t go around embarrassing us. You need to... understand your place.”

Your place. The words stung like a slap to the face. You couldn’t breathe for a moment as they settled into your bones, each syllable weighing down the space between you. You had married into a world that wasn’t yours, and now you were expected to mold yourself into something you weren’t. Someone you weren’t.

“I can’t—” Your voice broke as you stood, pushing your chair back abruptly. “I can’t keep doing this.”

Anthony’s expression hardened again, though there was a flicker of regret in his eyes. “Then try harder,” he said quietly.

Without another word, you turned on your heel, tears burning in your eyes as you left the dining room. The heavy wooden doors seemed to close in slow motion behind you, cutting off the last glimpse of Anthony’s conflicted expression. You didn’t wait for an apology; you didn’t expect one. It felt like the air had been sucked out of your lungs, and all you could do was escape.

The dim light of the study was a strange comfort. You sank into a chair, pulling your knees to your chest as the sobs finally broke free. You’d tried to fit in. You’d tried to be the perfect wife to Anthony, but nothing you did ever seemed to be enough. The feeling of inadequacy clawed at your heart. You could still hear his voice, his disappointment ringing in your ears.

“Am I not enough?” you whispered to yourself, barely audible in the quiet of the room.

A knock startled you, and before you could compose yourself, Violet stepped in. She took one look at your tear-streaked face and the way you were curled up in the chair, and her expression softened. She crossed the room, sitting beside you.

“Anthony can be... difficult,” she said gently, her voice holding the warmth of understanding. “He’s under a great deal of pressure, and sometimes... he doesn’t realize the impact of his words.”

“He’s ashamed of me,” you choked out, your voice barely holding together.

Violet’s hand reached out, resting on yours. “He’s not ashamed of you. He’s just... afraid. Afraid of what society might think. But that doesn’t make it right.” She paused for a moment, her voice dropping lower. “You are more than enough, dear. More than he deserves.”

The sobs started again, but this time they were less jagged, less painful. Violet stayed beside you, her presence a small comfort in the storm of emotions swirling inside. You didn’t say anything more, but the weight of her words settled in your heart.

Hours later, when the house had gone quiet, Anthony found you. He stood in the doorway of the study, his silhouette framed by the dim light from the hall.

“I... I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said, his voice sounding smaller than before. “I never should have spoken to you like that.”

You didn’t respond at first, your back still turned to him. The tension between you was palpable.

“I was wrong,” he continued, stepping closer. “I love you, and I don’t care what society thinks. I should never have made you feel like you didn’t belong.”

Slowly, you turned to face him, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand. His eyes were filled with remorse, and it wasn’t the forced apology of someone who was simply trying to make amends. It was genuine, a raw admission of his own failings.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

The silence between you lingered for a moment before you finally spoke. “I just want to be enough for you.”

Anthony closed the distance between you in an instant, wrapping his arms around you. “You are. You always have been. And I promise... I’ll never make you feel otherwise again.”

You clung to him, letting the last of your tears fall. This was your world now, but maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t have to face it alone.

The apology had hung in the air for days, lingering like a fragile thread between you and Anthony. Though he had embraced you that night, something inside you couldn’t fully forgive him—at least, not yet. His words had cut too deep, the reminder of how out of place you felt still stinging. And though Anthony tried to make amends, each attempt only seemed to widen the chasm growing between you.

Every morning, Anthony would ask if you wanted to attend some lavish event: a ball, a dinner party, some high-society affair that promised to distract from the unease that now filled your marriage. Each time, you declined.

“No, I don’t feel up to it tonight,” you would say, offering a polite smile that never quite reached your eyes.

At first, Anthony’s brow would furrow, confusion clouding his face. But as the days turned to weeks, he began to accept your refusals in silence, though the frustration was clear in the way his shoulders tensed and his jaw clenched.

Tonight was no different.

“You’ll come with me to Lady Cowper’s ball, won’t you?” Anthony asked, his voice light with hope as he approached your place by the window. The evening sun cast a golden hue across the room, making everything seem softer, more delicate than it felt.

“I... I think I’ll stay here tonight,” you replied, your tone careful, avoiding his gaze. You could sense the disappointment in the air before he even spoke.

Anthony sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “You’ve stayed here every night this week. People are starting to talk. They’ll wonder why we’re never seen together.”

You glanced up at him, your heart sinking. There it was again—the weight of society, the expectations, the image you were supposed to uphold. “Let them wonder,” you muttered, looking back out the window.

“Y/N, I’m trying,” he said softly, stepping closer, his voice pleading. “I know I hurt you. I know things haven’t been easy, but I’m doing everything I can to make it right. The balls, the events—they’re not just about appearances. They’re about spending time with you, showing you that I care.”

You didn’t respond, your gaze fixed on the distant horizon. Part of you wanted to believe him, to let the words sink in and take root in your heart. But another part—the part still raw from his outburst, still aching from the realization that you were living in a world that didn’t want you—couldn’t accept it. Not yet.

“I don’t want to be paraded around, Anthony,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to be some perfect wife for society to gawk at.”

Anthony’s expression faltered, the confidence he usually exuded crumbling at the edges. “That’s not what this is.”

“Isn’t it?” you asked, turning to face him fully for the first time. “Every event, every ball—it’s all about showing everyone that we’re the perfect couple, that I’m some ideal Viscountess. But I’m not, Anthony. I’m not what they expect me to be, and I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

His face softened, and for a moment, you saw the vulnerability in his eyes. He reached out, taking your hand in his. “You don’t have to pretend,” he said quietly. “Not with me. I’m not asking you to be perfect.”

“But you are,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “You might not realize it, but you are.”

The days continued to pass, each one feeling heavier than the last. Anthony tried everything to make it up to you—gifts, lavish dinners at home, even time spent walking together in the garden, trying to rekindle the closeness you once shared. But every time you looked at him, you couldn’t shake the memory of that night—the way his words had sliced through your heart, the way he had made you feel like you didn’t belong.

One evening, as you sat alone in the study, staring blankly at a book you weren’t really reading, Anthony appeared at the doorway. He hesitated before speaking, his voice soft, almost uncertain. “Y/N... would you reconsider Lady Bridgerton’s soirée tomorrow? It’s just family. No grand event, no crowd of strangers.”

You turned to look at him, a tired smile tugging at your lips. He was trying, and you knew that. But it wasn’t enough to erase the hurt that lingered between you. “I think I’ll pass.”

Anthony exhaled sharply, frustration finally breaking through the calm facade he had been trying to maintain. “You can’t just hide away forever.”

“I’m not hiding,” you countered, though your voice lacked conviction. “I’m... I’m just not ready.”

“Not ready for what?” His voice rose, but not in anger—in desperation. “For us? For this marriage? Because that’s what it feels like.”

Your heart clenched. It wasn’t that you didn’t love him. You did. But the life you had married into, the pressure of fitting into this world—it was suffocating. And though Anthony had apologized, the scars from that night ran deep. Too deep to heal so quickly.

“I need time,” you said quietly, standing from your chair and walking toward the window. “I need time to figure out who I am in all of this. And I need you to understand that.”

Anthony’s shoulders slumped, defeat washing over his features. He wanted to fix it. You could see it in his eyes—the desperation, the need to make things right. But he didn’t know how.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice breaking slightly. “I love you. I need you to know that.”

You swallowed hard, closing your eyes as his words echoed in the quiet room. “I know,” you whispered. “But love isn’t always enough.”

There was a long, painful silence between you, the weight of everything left unsaid pressing down on your chest. You wished things could go back to the way they were before—when you and Anthony were happy, when you felt like you belonged in his world. But the truth was, things had changed. And no matter how much Anthony tried to make up for it, the wound remained.

Finally, Anthony stepped back, his voice barely audible as he spoke. “I’ll give you time. As much as you need.”

With that, he turned and left, leaving you alone once again in the quiet of the study. You stood there, staring out the window at the setting sun, wondering if time would ever be enough to heal what had been broken.

Days stretched into weeks. You and Anthony fell into a quiet, uncomfortable routine. He would ask you to accompany him to various social events, and you would politely decline each time. His attempts to bridge the growing distance between you became less frequent, replaced by a heavy silence that lingered in the house. You knew he was hurting, but so were you. And neither of you seemed capable of saying what needed to be said.

One evening, after another quiet dinner where neither of you had much to say, Anthony stood abruptly from the table. His chair scraped against the floor, and the sound startled you from your thoughts.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” he said, his voice low but filled with an unmistakable tension.

You looked up at him, your chest tightening. “Do what?”

“This... this distance,” he gestured between you. “This silence. You refuse to come to any events. You won’t talk to me about what’s really going on. I feel like I’m losing you, Y/N.”

His words hit you hard, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond immediately. You could feel the hurt in his voice, the desperation. He loved you, you knew that. But something inside you wouldn’t let go of the pain he had caused. The feeling of not being enough, of being an outsider in his world, still clung to you.

“I’m still here,” you finally said, though your voice was soft, almost too soft to be reassuring.

“Are you?” Anthony asked, his voice breaking slightly as he ran a hand through his hair. “Because it doesn’t feel like it.”

You didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t wrong. A part of you had withdrawn, retreating to a safe distance where you didn’t have to face the uncomfortable truth of your marriage. You weren’t the perfect Viscountess. You didn’t belong in the circles Anthony moved in. And even though he had tried to apologize, tried to make things right, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were just pretending to be something you weren’t.

Anthony sighed heavily, pacing across the room. “Y/N, I don’t want to pressure you. But I don’t know how to fix this if you keep shutting me out.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the pain etched across his features. He was trying. You could see that. But it wasn’t enough—not yet.

“I’m not shutting you out,” you said quietly, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. “I’m just... I’m trying to figure out who I am in all of this. I need to know if I can really belong in this world.”

Anthony’s expression softened, and he stopped pacing, his gaze locking with yours. “You do belong. You’ve always belonged. I’ve never wanted anyone else but you.”

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “It doesn’t feel like that. It feels like I’m constantly being judged, constantly being told that I don’t fit in. And that night... when you said those things, it made me feel like I’ll never be enough.”

Anthony stepped forward, closing the distance between you, his hands gently resting on your arms. “I was wrong. I was angry, and I lashed out. I should never have said those things. But you are enough. More than enough.”

You looked down, unable to meet his gaze. “I’m trying to believe that, Anthony. But I don’t know how.”

He tilted your chin up gently, forcing you to look into his eyes. “Then let me help you. Let me show you that you’re more than enough. Not just for society or for my family, but for me. You’re the only person I want by my side.”

The sincerity in his voice tugged at your heart, but the fear of letting him in fully, of trusting that things would get better, still held you back.

“I need time,” you whispered, tears spilling over your cheeks. “I don’t know if I can just go back to how things were.”

Anthony nodded, his thumb brushing away your tears. “I’ll give you all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

A few days later, a letter arrived for you. It was from Eloise, one of the few Bridgertons who had always treated you like family, regardless of your status or background. The invitation was for an intimate gathering—a simple garden tea at the Bridgerton estate, nothing grand, no pressure, just family.

As you read the letter, something stirred inside you. This wasn’t a ball or a high-society event. It was just Eloise, Violet, and the rest of the family, inviting you to spend time with them. A part of you wanted to decline, like you had with all of Anthony’s invitations. But something stopped you. Maybe it was the casual tone of the letter, or the fact that you missed the warmth of Eloise’s company. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the realization that you couldn’t keep hiding forever.

That evening, as Anthony came home from work, you handed him the letter.

“What’s this?” he asked, glancing down at the familiar Bridgerton seal.

“An invitation,” you said, your voice steady. “Eloise is hosting a tea. I think... I think I’ll go.”

Anthony’s eyes lit up with surprise and hope. “You will?”

You nodded, unsure of what had shifted inside you but certain that it was time to take a small step forward. “It’s not a ball or anything grand. Just family.”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” Anthony said softly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

You gave him a tentative smile in return, feeling the first flicker of something that resembled hope. You weren’t sure if this would fix everything, if you and Anthony could truly mend the broken pieces of your relationship. But for the first time in a long while, you felt like you were ready to try.

The day of the tea came, and as you dressed in a simple, yet elegant gown, you felt a mixture of nerves and anticipation. Anthony stood by your side as you both prepared to leave, his hand resting gently on the small of your back as you stepped out of the house together.

When you arrived at the Bridgerton estate, the familiar sight of the grand house brought back memories of happier times. Eloise greeted you with a warm smile, pulling you into an embrace as soon as you entered the garden. Violet was there as well, her kind eyes full of understanding as she welcomed you back into the fold.

The tea was simple, just as the invitation had promised. There were no expectations, no judgment. Just the family gathered together, chatting and laughing like they always had. For the first time in weeks, you felt a sense of peace.

As you sat beside Anthony, watching Eloise debate passionately with Colin about some trivial topic, you felt his hand gently squeeze yours. You turned to look at him, and for the first time in a long while, you saw hope reflected in his eyes.

Maybe things weren’t perfect. Maybe there was still a long road ahead. But sitting there, surrounded by the warmth of the Bridgerton family, you felt like you might finally be finding your place.

A few days after the tea at the Bridgerton estate, you found yourself wandering through Hyde Park, seeking a quiet moment to process everything that had happened recently. The autumn breeze brushed against your skin, and the leaves crunched softly beneath your shoes. It was a rare moment of peace amidst the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed you for weeks.

As you walked along the path, your thoughts swirling, you caught a glimpse of someone familiar in the distance. Portia Featherington. She was walking alone, a sight that surprised you. Portia was rarely seen without her daughters or some acquaintance by her side, always bustling through society’s events with an air of determination. Yet here she was, quiet and solitary, her usual bright colors muted in a more subdued dress.

A surge of curiosity gripped you, and before you knew it, your feet were carrying you toward her. You hadn’t spoken to Portia much, but something about seeing her alone, away from the noise of high society, made you wonder how she managed to navigate the same world that had been so difficult for you to fit into.

“Portia,” you called softly as you approached, hoping not to startle her.

She turned at the sound of your voice, her brows lifting slightly in surprise. “Y/N,” she said, her tone neutral but polite. “What a surprise to see you here. Are you enjoying the park?”

You nodded, though your mind was focused on something else. “Yes, I come here to think sometimes. I didn’t expect to see you walking alone.”

Portia smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Even I need some quiet moments away from the crowd, now and then.”

There was a pause, and you hesitated, wondering if you should speak your mind. But the question had been weighing on you for days, and seeing Portia now, looking so poised despite everything you knew she had been through, you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Portia,” you began, your voice uncertain but steady. “How did you do it? How did you fit in with all of this, with society, despite the challenges? I’ve been struggling… and I thought maybe you could help me understand how you managed.”

Portia’s expression softened as she regarded you, her sharp eyes taking in your uncertainty. For a moment, she said nothing, simply considering your question. Then, with a small sigh, she motioned for you to walk with her, and you fell into step beside her.

“I won’t lie to you, Y/N,” Portia began, her voice carrying the weight of experience. “It wasn’t easy. This world—society—it’s unforgiving, especially for those of us who don’t naturally fit into its mold. I’ve faced my fair share of whispers behind my back, people judging me and my family. But I’ve learned that you can’t let them break you.”

You listened intently, surprised by her candor. Portia had always seemed so unshakable, so perfectly in control. To hear her admit to her struggles was a revelation.

“How did you get through it?” you asked quietly, the question hanging between you like a lifeline.

Portia’s eyes softened, and a small smile tugged at her lips. “The small things,” she said simply. “I focused on the small things that kept me going. My daughters, for one. Everything I’ve done—every event I’ve attended, every decision I’ve made—it’s been for them. They are my strength, my reason to keep pushing forward. When everything else felt like it was falling apart, I reminded myself that they needed me. That I had to be strong for them.”

She paused, glancing at you, her gaze full of understanding. “I know it may seem like I’ve always had it together, but there were times when I felt like giving up. When I questioned if I truly belonged. But I realized that fitting in isn’t about becoming what others expect you to be. It’s about finding your own place within this world, and holding on to the people and things that matter most to you.”

Her words struck a chord deep within you. You had been so consumed by the idea of fitting into Anthony’s world, of becoming the perfect Viscountess, that you had lost sight of what truly mattered. Perhaps you didn’t need to conform to every expectation society had of you. Perhaps, like Portia, you could find your own way, as long as you held on to the things that gave you strength.

“What if… what if I’m not enough for Anthony?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, the vulnerability of the question startling even you.

Portia stopped walking for a moment, turning to face you fully. Her expression was calm but firm. “You are enough. And if Anthony doesn’t see that, then that is his failing, not yours. But from what I’ve observed, he loves you deeply. He’s just as lost in this as you are.”

Her words settled over you like a warm blanket, offering a comfort you hadn’t realized you needed. It was the first time you truly felt like someone understood what you were going through, and the fact that it came from Portia, someone you had always thought of as so different from yourself, made it all the more impactful.

“Thank you,” you said softly, your eyes meeting hers. “I needed to hear that.”

Portia gave you a small smile, the kind of smile that held years of wisdom and resilience. “We all need reminders sometimes. Remember, Y/N, you don’t have to face this world alone. Find your small things, the things that keep you going, and hold on to them.”

With that, Portia turned to continue her walk, and after a moment, you fell into step beside her once more. You didn’t speak much after that, but the silence between you was no longer uncomfortable. It was an understanding, a shared knowledge that no one was truly alone in their struggles.

As you walked through the park, you felt a quiet strength begin to bloom inside you. Maybe you didn’t have all the answers yet, but Portia’s words had given you a sense of direction, a reminder that you were enough, that you could find your place—not by trying to fit in, but by being true to yourself.

[pompomlol]

i’m listening to die with a smile by bruno mars and lady gaga so let me cook rq

thinking of childhood bsf to lovers to exes with jake. you guys dated for a bit but ultimately broke up due to you two going in different directions that didn’t align with each other.

fast forward, you see a global public service announcement saying that a massive meteor shower is going to strike earth and destroy everything, saying that we only have 5 hours left before it starts (cause the government lowkey sucks) and as you think about the impact this would, the things you wanted to do that you’ll never have the chance to do, family members, friends, your mind wonders to jake, all the good times you had to together.

and without much thought, you grab your shoes and just run out the door. not caring that what you’re doing is crazy and irrational, that he might not even be there when you get there, but the small chance that he might keeps you going.

you make it to a run down apartment complex, the one you and jake used to live in as kids, living thing across from each other, spending any nights together, laughing, crying and cuddling on the roof top. you run up the stairs and open the door to see it empty. just as you expected, but that doesn’t stop you from waiting there for almost an hour.

soon you hear footsteps from the roof entrance and low and behold, there he is at the door. the two of you just stare at each other, surprised by the fact that you two had the same idea. you stand there for a moment, before running up and giving a giant hug, tears start to well up in your eyes, and he holds you just as tight as you melt into his touch.

you two spend the next three hours catching up, laughing at your shared (and slightly idiotic) idea to meet on the roof. “it’s almost like fate” he said in that thick australian accent you missed so much. as the first meteor comes in sight, you start to tear up as you realizes this is truly the end. “and i never even got to tell you how i feel”

as he looks at you in confusion, you admit to him that you never truly fell out of love for him romantically, how you wanted to make it work but you just couldn’t, how you wanted to marry him, possibly start a family. “it’s kind of stupid considering how much time has passed” you say through your tears.

jake took your face in his hand, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. you lean into his palm, feeling the warmth radiate on your skin. and as the meteor begin to crash down around, the loud crashes of buildings being knocked down, all you could see was him, all you could feel was him. he leans in, pressing his lips to yours. the two of you moved against each other, tears running down your faces as you spent your last moments together. he pulls away, a giant smile on his face as he gazes into your eyes, like they’re windows into your soul. a crash nearby breaks you from his gaze, seeing a building had crashed down nearby.

“hey” jake said, gently grabbing your cheek to face him again. “it’s just us, ok” and he leans your forehead against his “it’s just us” you stare at him from the weird angle, a smile growing across your face, that his face mirrors. and you stand there, in each others presence and warmth, until you hear something coming towards you, and everything goes black.

a/n: i started writing this a month ago, and i finally finished it. i originally wrote it for one last time by ariana grande, but i thought die with a smile would fit the concept better. sorry if it sucks, i’m not a writer, just a silly little scenario i had in my head and thought i would share it with you all. hope you enjoy it :)

[penelopepine]

I love your work so so so so much 🩷☹️‼️

I would absolutely love to see a fic of Graves in the delivery room while his wife is in labor and how he takes care of her in the hospital after their baby has just arrived, I imagine he’d feed her with his own hands and would be so so so over the board with caring for her 🥺🩷

AHHH I love to hear that! Thank you so much!

Delivery Room

You had woken up this morning to a sharp pain in your abdomen and wet sheets below you. At first you embarrassingly thought that you had wet the bed, but when another wave of pain hit you quickly realized what was actually happening. 

Looking towards your left you see your husband, Phillip, still sleeping soundly beside you. Reaching out to him it only took you softly calling his name and a light shake of his shoulder for him to wake up. 

"Wha- What is it? What's wrong?" He asks with concern once he notices how you're clutching your stomach. 

"It's go time!," You hissed in pain, "My water broke and the baby's coming!" 

Without another word Phillip is instantly out of bed, and by your side helping you stand. “I’m here, sweetheart, I’m here. Let’s get you to the car now.” 

“It’s not time yet though; the baby isn’t due for another 2 weeks.” You hold on tight to Phillip’s arm as he leads you out to the car. Realistically you knew that the baby coming 2 weeks early is completely normal, and something your doctor had even brought up as a possibility during an appointment. Your pained and hormone filled brain couldn’t stop thinking about all the negative reasons the baby could be arriving early though. 

"Sweetheart, everything is alright with the baby. We're getting to meet them a little earlier than planned." Phillip says soothingly to you as he helps you inside the vehicle. Once you're fully inside you watch as your husband runs back inside, and grabs the hospital bag before climbing inside as well.  

The entire ride to the hospital Phillip was doing breathing exercises with you, and doing his best to comfort you. You didn't even realize you had arrived until your door was being thrown open by Phillip who was now ushering you to sit in a wheelchair. 

It only takes a few minutes of talking with the nurses for them to lead you both down the hall, and get you set up in the delivery room. You start to feel much better now that you're in the hospital knowing that the professionals are there to help you. 

The doctor comes in almost immediately after you've changed into the hospital gown. They say you're about 2cm dilated right now, and encourage you to try and get some sleep since it's the middle of the night. 

"Well you heard the doctor, sweetheart. Baby's not coming anytime soon, and you need all the energy you can get." Phillip sat beside your bed; one hand in yours and the other on your stomach. 

"So do you," You nod towards the couch in the room, "Get some sleep; I'll be fine laying here."

"That is not how this is going to work. I'll sleep once I know you are." He states, his voice not allowing any arguing of any kind. "I'm here to help you with whatever you need. Now, tell me what can I do to help you sleep?" 

"Just- Just hold my hand." That was all you needed right now. To know that the person you loved most was by your side during one of the biggest and scariest moments of your life. 

And for the next hour or so that is exactly what he did. Phillip didn't leave your side for more than a few seconds at a time getting whatever you needed to feel more comfortable until finally you fell into a sleep. 

You wouldn't say it was deep sleep, but even the few hours of sleep you got did manage to calm your panic from before.  Your head felt more clear, but now the pain was worse - 5cms dilated now, the doctor said. 

For the next 6 hours Phillip did everything in his power to make you comfortable, and help with the contraction pain. He put on music, gave you a massage, and even helped you with your exercises on the birthing ball. Until finally it was time to start pushing. 

"Just keep breathing, sweetheart. You're doing amazing." Phillip whispers to you. He's currently leaning towards you, and his hand is being crushed in yours. He doesn't complain once about you doing so - encourages it even. 

Phillip spends the next hour of you pushing standing by your side. Whispering praises into your ear; wanting you to know just how much he loves you. 

For as long as this whole thing was, it was worth it when you finally heard the shrill cry of your baby taking its first breaths - it's the most beautiful sound you've heard. With the baby now resting on your chest you take this chance to close your eyes and breathe. While you do so Phillip has grabbed a damp rag, and begins wiping your face of all the sweat and tears. 

"She's beautiful!" You stare teary eyed down at the newborn in your arms before lifting  your head to meet Phillip's gaze.

"She is," He instantly agrees with you. His eyes now move from the baby to you. "How did I end up with the two most beautiful girls in the world?"

You give a breathless chuckle before telling him, "I love you so much."

"I love you too, sweetheart. I love you too."

The rest of your time at the hospital was filled with you and Phillip taking in the presence of your new baby. This was something the two of you had wanted for so long, and it felt magical to finally have it. 

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve’s eyes popped open and groaned at the light streaming through the window. His head was killing him. He shouldn't have had all that tequila. He suddenly realized that there wasn't anything between him in the sheets, and there were two arms across his chest. He looked over on his left to find a naked Eddie Munson lying next to him. The sheet had fallen off of him, and he had a clear view of his ass. The other arm was coming from his right side. He followed it to find Chrissy sleeping on her side, facing him. The sheet had fallen to her waist, and he could see her breasts very clearly.

"Fuck," Steve muttered.

Memories were starting to come back from last night. It was supposed to be him, Robin, Eddie, and Chrissy, but Robin had to cancel because she was sick. Although, he couldn't remember who's idea idea it was to do tequila shots, but suddenly, they were no longer watching the movie. He remembered their hands in his hair, massaging his scalp, and then the next thing he knew, they were licking salt off his neck. There was kissing. . .Eddie had kissed him first, and then it had been Chrissy.

"I like Nancy, she's pretty. . .pretty great," he remembered Chrissy slurring her words. "But we're going to make you forget all about her."

Steve remembered begging them to tear off his clothes, begging them to do so many things: biting, kissing. . .he even begged them to spank him. He definitely remembered the fucking, too. He tried to sit up without waking them up, but as soon as he moved, it alerted Eddie and Chrissy. Eddie sat up suddenly, gathering all the sheets to cover himself. He yelped when he inadvertently ripped the sheets off of Steve and Chrissy. He looked up at the ceiling.

"Did we - ?" Eddie asked.

"Fuck?" Steve asked, smirking. "Yes, we did."

"JESUS H CHRIST!" Eddie yelled.

"Eddie, baby, volume," Chrissy said with a groan. "Why are you freaking out? We've had sex before."

"Not with Steve!" Eddie shrieked.

"Edward," Chrissy said, rubbing her temples.

"Sorry," Eddie said. "Why aren't you freaking out about this?"

"Well, I thought most people secretly kind of thought other people of the same sex were attractive," Steve said. "I don't think that means we're gay."

"I always thought that!" Chrissy exclaimed happily.

"WELL, WE'RE NOT STRAIGHT, STEVEN," Eddie said and groaned, burried his face into the pillow. "Ugh, I think I pissed off my own hangover. Seriously, Chrissy. . .this doesn't surprise you?"

His head was stuffed into the pillow, so his voice had been muffled. It was amusing to see his bare ass sticking high up in the air like that.

"Well, you practically drool over Steve like he's a well-done steak and then, of course, there was that time that you called out his name when we were in bed together," Chrissy said. "You're not as mysterious as you think you are, babe."

"I never noticed anything," Steve frowned.

"Well, we weren't on the map for you at the time. You were trying to get over Nancy," Chrissy said.

"Fuck Nancy," Steve grinned and then frowned. "I mean not fuck her, you know, or fuck her. . .because she's my friend now, too, so. . .ah, you know what I mean."

Chrissy and Eddie giggled. They fell into a comfortable silence as Eddie inched down onto the bed like a worm.

"You okay, baby?" Chrissy asked Eddie.

"Do you need a minute, man? I get it if you do," Steve said.

"Yeah, I think I need a minute," Eddie groaned.

"Okay, well, I think I need coffee, and I'll whip us up something simple," Steve said and kissed his forehead.

He slipped out of bed, watching as Chrissy slid over to Eddie, whispering his ear and kissing his forehead as well. Chrissy rolled out of bed and slipped on one of Steve’s sweaters.

"I'll come help," Chrissy said.

Steve smiled. His blue sweater really brought out the color of her eyes, and it contrasted nicely with her strawberry blonde hair. She was beautiful. . .they both were. Chrissy took his hand and led him out of the room, giving Eddie a moment to himself to process all of it. Even with the hangover pounding away at his skull, Steve couldn't stop smiling as Chrissy helped him cook.

"So, you always thought about men and women, too?" Steve asked Chrissy.

"Yeah, I thought that was normal for everyone," Chrissy said.

"Well, I think that it's normal for people like us," Steve said. "You did say Nancy was pretty last night."

"Okay, so maybe I had a crush on her when she was on the squad," Chrissy said. "And then again briefly after everything that happened. So, I totally get why you had to get over her twice."

"Nancy Wheeler is definitely hard to get over," Steve said with a smile.

"Tell me about it," Chrissy grinned. "You weren't exactly easy to get over when I had a crush on you, too. I don't think I ever did."

"You had a crush on me?" Steve asked.

"Still do," Chrissy grinned.

"Well. . .I'm glad you never got over me," Steve said, and he smiled at her, bumping her hip with his.

Breakfast and coffee had just gotten done when Eddie stumbled into the kitchen. He was wearing Steve’s yellow sweater and nothing else. His hair was fluffed out around him like a messy dark halo. He wandered over to them. Eddie placed one hand on Steve’s hip and the other hip on Chrissy's, pressing himself up against them. He squeezed them tightly.

"You guys just go ahead and steal all of my clothes then," Steve said teasingly.

"Okay," Chrissy giggled.

"How are you doing, Eddie?" Steve asked.

"I'm very well done," Eddie said and kissed Steve’s cheek, causing Steve to giggle.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Robin's voice startled him out of his thoughts. It was two days later, and he was back at Family Video. Steve blinked, blushed, and continued stacking the video tapes.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked.

"I thought you had been cursed for a moment, but then you started grinning like an idiot," Robin said. "I'm pretty sure you scared that old lady and her granddaughter."

"What old lady and her granddaughter?" Steve asked.

"You just talked to them for like ten minutes!" Robin exclaimed.

"Oh, yeah, them," Steve said.

"Okay, did you meet someone?" Robin asked.

"No. . .," he trailed off.

"But you hooked up," Robin said.

Steve wasn't sure why he didn't just tell her right away. Eddie and Chrissy were more than happy for him to tell Robin. Especially since she knew about him. Steve has brought it up several times that he likes men and women with Robin.

"It wasn't intentional. . .we had a little bit too much tequila, and then one thing led to another. . .it was a happy accident," Steve grinned.

"I thought you weren't interested in meaningless sex anymore," she said.

"It definitely wasn't meaningless," Steve said. "It meant something to all three of us."

"Ugh, you had a threesome?" Robin asked. "What girls did you have a "meaningful" sexscapade with?"

"That's a little judgemental even for you," Steve said, raising an eyebrow at her. "And why would you assume that it's two girls?"

Steve paused and glanced around. Yeah, the place was still empty. He glanced back at Robin, who was looking at him in confusion.

"Are you telling me that Steve Harrington, notorious ladies man, had sex with a woman AND a man?" Robin asked in disbelief.

"I don't know why you're surprised by this," Steve said. "You've known this about me."

"The hell I did!" Robin shrieked.

"I told you about the times I fooled around with some of my friends!" Steve exclaimed.

"I assumed they were girls!" Robin exclaimed.

"Yeah, okay, that might be on me. I don't think I used any pronouns," he frowned. "Okay, what about the time I went on a rant about how cute I think Tom Cruise is?"

"I thought that you were just exaggerating about how much you loved Tom Cruise and that it was one of those scenarios where if you were into men, it would be him. And you actually said that," Robin said.

"Okay, that might be on me again," Steve said. "Okay, but what about that time that I made out with that guy at that bar?"

"That was a guy?!" Robin shrieked.

"Okay, from behind, I can see why you would think he was a girl," Steve said, and then he frowned. "Wait a minute, I told you his name was James."

"I thought you said Jamie," Robin said. "Okay, that one might be on me."

"Robin, okay, I literally told you that I would have sex with anyone," Steve said.

"You did not specify that it meant men!" Robin exclaimed.

"Robin!" Steve exclaimed and slammed a tape down. "We ran into a newly reformed gay Tommy in the grocery store a while back, and we both literally told you that we used to roll around in the hay!"

"I didn't know that was a euphemism!" She shrieked.

"I told you that Vickie might be like me!" Steve told her.

"I thought you were talking about the fact that you and Vickie like Fast Times," Robin said and paused. "Okay, yeah, that one might be on me, too. Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Are we both dinguses?"

"Yeah, I think so," Steve said.

"Okay. . .suddenly, everything is making fucking sense," Robin said and shook her head. "So, these people that you meaningfully slept with. . .do you think it might become serious?"

"Yeah," Steve said, biting his lip. "I think so. They figured I would tell you, so they're okay with this. It's Eddie and Chrissy."

"Well, it's a good thing that I canceled," Robin said and paused. "You three really make so much sense. You spend so much time with them already."

"So. . .still feeling down since Vickie moved away?" Steve asked.

"No, actually, things are looking up," Robin said, blushing. "I mean, I'll always miss her. She was my first girlfriend, but I got that she wanted to be with her dad, especially after his mother died. We're friends now, though, or getting there, anyway."

"Is there someone else?" Steve asked.

Robin sighed with relief as the bell above the door rang. Eddie and Chrissy bounced into the store.

"Slow day?" Eddie asked.

"It's looking up," Steve smiled.

"Judging by the way that Robin is looking at us, she knows," Eddie said, looking amused.

"Oh, yeah, and now she knows for sure that I'm not straight," Steve said.

"I thought she knew," Chrissy said.

"Yeah, I thought she knew, too," Steve said.

"I'm. . . I'm a dingus," Robin said. "I'm happy for you, guys."

"Thanks," Eddie said, laughing.

"We really missed you," Chrissy said and kissed Steve.

Eddie gave a look around the store before giving Steve a quick kiss as well.

"It's been two days," Steve blushed.

"The heart wants what it wants," Eddie grinned.

Robin smiled and moved to stand behind the counter.

"You up for a break yet?" Chrissy asked, biting her lip as she slipped a hand into his back pocket.

"Not yet," Steve said. "Soon, though."

"Damn, we came prepared to have our way with you," Eddie said and cupped Chrissy's face, squeezing her cheeks. "How can you say no to this face?"

"It's the rules," Steve said as Eddie put his hand in Steve's other back pocket.

"Fuck the rules," Eddie whispered in his ear.

"Look, just because I know about this and is more than okay with it doesn't mean that I want to want to watch you two fuck my best friend in the place where we work."

"Boo," Chrissy laughed.

"Come on, Chrissy, let's look for a movie, and Steve can admire us from afar," Eddie said.

Steve smiled as he watched them walk away. He felt very giddy. He bit his lip as he finished up stacking the video tapes.

"I don't know how you're getting any work done today," Robin said.

"Tell me about it," Steve said as he moved back to the counter with Robin, his eyes following his partners' movements.

"Oh, you're done for already. Smitten like a kitten," Robin said. "I like seeing this on you."

"Me too," Steve said.

"You know, I never thought you'd ever move on from Nancy," Robin said.

"I think a little part of me will always be there, but I'm glad we got to be together one last time. I feel like we both got the closure we needed," Steve said.

"Really?" Robin asked.

"Oh, yeah," Steve said.

"I wasn't sick!" Robin blurted out.

"What?" Steve asked.

"When I was supposed to hang out with you three. . .I was really hanging out with Nancy," Robin said.

"Nancy?" He asked.

"Yeah," Robin said, looking at him nervously. "Nothing happened! I doubt it will because I don't she'll ever feel the same way about me. . .but I wanted to see if you would be okay with it if something ever did happen."

"Robin, you don't need my permission," Steve said, looking worried.

"Of course, I don't need your permission. This isn't about that. It's about loyalty. If I can't take your feelings into account over something as important as this and treat them as something that matters, then how can I possibly do the same thing with a romantic partner? Their feelings need to be just as important as yours because you mean the world to me, Steve Harrington," Robin said. "And I don't want to be with anyone who doesn't understand that. Vickie understood it, and now, I think Nancy does, too."

"I love you, Robin, and there's always going to be this part of me that will love Nancy, but I think you two would be great together," Steve said. "It kind of makes sense that we would end up falling for the same girl."

"It really does," Robin sniffled. "I'm madly, platonically in love with you, dingus."

"I'm madly, platonically in love with you, too. . .dingus," Steve said, and she laughed.

"And you know, if things do fall apart. . . Then we'll always have each other, right?" Robin asked.

"Right. . .I don't think you're going to get any work done today," Steve smirked.

The bell above the door rang, and Nancy came in. She beamed at Robin, who smiled bashfully. Steve grinned. Look at them. . .getting a happy ending. It was one that neither one had expected, but it was definitely the happiest of accidents. Thank god for Tequila.

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 22/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTYONE

CHAPTER TWENTYTWO

                Sleep is a rare and precious commodity, one he cannot allow himself to luxuriate in while he works at finalizing the menu. While he sources vendors and suppliers and picks out flatware and tablecloths and what kind of light fittings will look the best. Leandro and Silvia arrive and take over for a bit and it feels so nice to just feel like he can take a breath. The fact that there is a film crew dogging his every step isn’t helping, but he also knows the publicity and exposure he’ll get will all be worth it.

                Leandro makes him make everything on the menu, then tastes it as he cooks and he refines it further. Listens as Leandro gives him further tips about what can be prepped in advance and what things must be done fresh. He goes through Bradley’s wine selection as well, pares them with different meals and makes Bradley do a blind taste test. He thought he’d learnt enough, but he’s quickly learning he’s got a lifetime of education in front of him.

                He okay with that.

…            …            …

                “Did you know you were Jake’s first kiss?”

                “Yeah, he did tell me that…” Leo says with a soft smile he directs Jake’s way and Jake pulls a face at Nicola, because of course she’d be the one to try and humiliate him the most.

                “Oh. Damn. I was hoping I could embarrass him.”

                “Well, at least you’re honest about your intentions,” Jake mutters.

                “Do you have photos of him as a kid or teenager? That’d work.”

                “No!” Jake yells, but both Nicola and Amanda are already running and his dad is laughing. So much for his dad helping keep his sisters under control. He should have known better. Leo’s arms are around him though, stopping him from going after his sisters, or just to hold him close, it doesn’t matter.

…            …            …

                “Try not to fuck him up okay?”

                “Yeah, no, of course not,” Bradley starts, not really sure if this is a threat or well wishes or what exactly. Then he gets a shoulder pat so hard he won’t be surprised if it bruises and decides it’s likely a bit of both.

…            …            …

                He leaves Leo in bed with a promise to return later and while he doubts it will happen he really hopes to find him still in bed when he gets back from helping his sisters at the farmers market. He gets to the lot where they set up and of course they’re already there, used to doing this without him but he still feels a little bad, quickly following directions and moving things to where they want them, calling out greetings to equally bleary-eyed people, although some are bright and cheerful and even after ten years in the Navy he still hates naturally early morning people a little.

                “Jake. Jake! Come on, where’s your head at?”

                He startles, and Nicola is looking at him with a mix of irritation and concern. He shakes his head and mumbles an apology under his breath.

                “I was going to ask what you were daydreaming about, but I don’t think I want to know…”

                “You don’t think it’s… going too fast?”

                “Oh. You’re head’s not here. And fast? You’ve never let a little speed scare you off before.”

                “I’m not scared,” Jake scoffs. “I agreed to… date him didn’t I?”

                “Yep, and now you’re second guessing your decision. Why?”

                “Just… what if I fuck it up?”

                “Oh. Oh Jake… what if he fucks it up?”

                “He won’t.”

                “Wow. So certain already. Look. I saw the two of you being very… sweet with each other last night. And it’s only been a week, I know that, but he seems to really like you. Like… really like you. Let him like you. Don’t invent problems or issues because you think it should be more difficult.”

                “Yeah.”

                “I know, easier said than done sometimes. But I know you can be a stubborn shit head when you put your mind to it.”

                “Thanks Nicky…”

                “Also he’s hot and really into you…”

                “Yeah well, that helps too,” Jake says with a smirk and Nicola rolls her eyes and slaps his arm to get him moving again.

…            …            …

                He spies him walking toward them, trays of coffee balanced in each hand and Jake lets his eye travel up Leo’s body, the long legs covered in light denim that Jake’s had wrapped around his hips. White tank making his skin look even more golden and warm in the increasing heat of the Texan summer morning. Then a muted Hawaiian shirt flapping as he strides toward them and yeah, it’s only been a few hours but he’s starting to feel like he’s getting a taste of what coming back from being deployed is going to be like.

                “Hey. Wasn’t expecting you. What are you doing here?”

                “To help. I got you guys all coffee from the coffee cart. I might not want to get up before five to help, but being here for the rush from eight is much more respectable time. Maria and Olivia said I’d be the most use then.”

                “Yeah. He can carry people’s things to their cars.”

                “Oh yeah, the church ladies like to see flexing muscles,” Jake says with a grin, and Leo’s answering smile is wide.

                “Ugh. Stop looking at each other like that. You’ll make the fudge jealous.”

                Jake blinks. Frowns.

                “What?”

                “Tooth rotting fluff,” she says, gesturing between them and he shrugs, because he’s not going to disagree.

…            …            …

                “Come back to my place.”

                “Your place?”

                “Yeah, my apartment I share with Nicola. It’s close.”

                “Close huh?”

                “Yeah. We can have a shower. Wash our clothes.”

                “And what will we do while our clothes get clean hmm?”

                “I’ve got a few ideas.”

                “I bet you do. Lead the way.”

…            …            …

                The rest of the weekend feels relaxed. He does end up making brunch for Maria, Olivia and Nicola on Sunday, much to Jake’s pretend annoyance. At least he thinks it’s pretend, and it might just be the fact that he left Jake alone in bed at his apartment and went back to his rental so he could cook. He finds having Jake in his working space, the kitchen, easy, despite the fact he usually hates having people hovering. If they’re in the kitchen they should be working, and he’s used to them working and moving around him. Jake doesn’t move; every time Bradley bumps or brushes against him he gets a kiss or hug for his efforts so he starts doing it on purpose. That, combined with the fact that Jake doesn’t seem at all interested in the food, isn’t going to critique his knife skills, and simply seems to want to be in the same space he’s in makes him want him there in return.

                Now, it’s Sunday afternoon and Jake has gone to spend some time with his nieces and nephew at Bradley’s encouragement; already feeling bad at monopolizing so much of Jake’s time the last week. He looks at the pounds of tomatoes in front of him and rubs his hands before rolling up his sleeves. He has an idea, and it might be a complete bust, but he can’t not try. He’d sort of alluded to on Friday night, when Olivia had talked about Jake’s mild obsession with ketchup. Or mayonnaise, depending. Sometimes Jake will mix the two, but there is always ketchup and he wonders what it is exactly about it that Jake likes so much. He’s determined to find out. Then he’s going to make a version so good Jake won’t ever want store bought again. He’d noticed all their eyes on him while Jake had been putting the sauce on his plate and he’d just been amused. He is not a snob when it comes to food, but he might be something of a perfectionist.

                He roasts the tomatoes first, enough to split the skin and give them a little blistering and char because he wants that depth of flavor. Then he has to peel them, and they’re fucking hot but he works with a paring knife and one glove, working quickly. He’s also roasted some garlic bulbs whole, squeezes them out as he sautés some onion in butter. All the texture will be lost of course, he knows he’s going to have to strain it through the finest mesh he can get his hands on, and most of his personal cooking equipment went back with the crew, except for his knives. That’s fine, he’s learnt to improvise.

                He separates the sauce into four smaller pots, leaves one untouched and then ponders what he can do to each one to hopefully make them taste different enough that Jake will be able to tell and not just nod and smile and say they all taste great. Of course, he doesn’t have any liquid smoke on hand, but he definitely wants to try making one more smoky and tangy, like a barbecue sauce while still being close to ketchup for Jake’s liking. He adds more sugar to one, although he’s already wondering if he could use stewed apple for the sweetness instead. To another he adds some of the salsa verde and hums appreciatively when he tastes it, because that adds a kick and the flavors have had time to intensify in the best way possible. Okay. Plain, spicy, sweet and hopefully smoky. That covers enough bases for now and gives him a decent starting point. He’ll see if he can source some liquid smoke tomorrow when the shops are open.

…            …            …

                “I’m going to go for a run. All this food has been great but I can’t slack off otherwise I won’t pass the pre-flight checks…”

                “Can’t you go later?” Bradley grumbles.

                “Leo, babe, it’s summer in Texas. I don’t have a death wish. It’s now or never baby…”

                “Ugh. Wait for me. I’ll come with you. I’ve been slacking off.”

                “You mean you don’t come by this naturally?” Jake asks playfully, reaching over and giving his ass a slap.

                “Got to work to look this good.”

                “Mmm. Well, your body is a temple and I’m but a humble worshipper…”

                He can go for a run later.

…            …            …

                “Blind taste test…”

                “You’re blind folding me? Kinky.”

                “I want you to try something… several somethings actually.”

                Jake groans.

                “No, no… it’s just fries in sauce okay? Homemade ketchup. I want you to tell me which is your favorite out of these four.”

                “It really bugs you that I add sauce to everything I eat huh?”

                “No. Well. Yeah, maybe a little. But… I just want you eating my sauce.”

                Jake smirks and Bradley flushes as he realizes the double entendre that could be inferred.

                “Just try the fucking sauce you pervert.”

                “Oh, I’m sure I could be a lot more perverted…”

                “I’m sure you could too, it’s not a very high bar. Come on…”

…            …            …

                “I’m really sorry to do this, but can you look into Houston and Austin and San Antonio?”

                “Wow…”

                “Shut up.”

                “Oh no. I am just going to sit here and tell you I told you so. Bask in being right, because you know I am…”

                “Can you do some site visits?”

                “Not in the next couple of weeks, I’ll have to do some considerable research considering these are three entirely new locations we haven’t done any market research for.”

                “Yeah, I know… just. Tell me if it’s a really fucking bad move okay? From a business point of view that is.”

                “Oh, you know I won’t hold back. I take it from this request that things are going well?”

                “Yeah, yeah, mucca curiosa… how much detail do you want huh?”

                “None. You sound happy. Relaxed. It’s good. Keep it up. Or not.”

                “You’re so gross.”

                “Your mind went there too!”

…            …            …

                Jake likes all the different sauces. He truly does, and he can tell the difference fuck you very much Maria. They’re different enough that he wouldn’t mind having a bottle of each, because the smoky one goes really well with burgers and hotdogs, but the spicy one is best with the Mexican food for some reason, then the sweet one is his favorite to have with fries. But the original is best for putting on eggs at breakfast and god, he really needs to go for a run.

[wings-of-ink]

I think this applies more just to my specific MC than to every MC, but I couldn't help but think that the cast resembles Disney's Snow white and the seven dwarfs dynamic. Where MC is the incredibly beautiful person who is in need of help, but is also very caring. And the RO's are a group with different personalities yet are all enamored or fond of MC, and would quite quickly want to help them.

That said, I think it applies to my MC specifically a lot. I have written about him before. Hopefully you remember Winfred (who named himself after Oswin, on who he has crushed on since forever). Since I imagine him as someone who is very caring, and likes to make sure everyone is okay and likes to cook for them and confort them and all of that stuff.

The reason I thought about this comparison in the first place is because I thought about the scene Snow white tells the dwarves to wash their hands before she serves dinner. And I just saw my MC doing it with the ROs. Like, I imagine the scenario in which Wilfred is with Oswin and hosting the other ROs, and just before lunch he asks them: "All right, did you wash yourselves before eating?"

And I imagine some may have. But I also imagine none (including Oswin) did just this particular instance. I know Oswin would get embarrassed and immediately go wash his hands; Duri would smirk and say he (I'm gay so for me the ROs are all male) doesn't need to, but would go after MC gives them a kind of fatherly disappointed look; Zahn would probably put no issue, but I imagine would make a joke about it; Rune... Well, I'm not sure, I think he probably would just go, somewhat conflicted he is being treated like a child, but also knowing Wilfred (my MC) is not doing it with malice but genuine care, so it's weird. Maybe he also makes sure the others go. And I think ??? would try to get away, and steal his portion of the food and hide, or would just go by inertia and then be like "what did just happen?". Although, as with Rune, I'm less sure about his personality.

By the way, I imagine Da and Pa would be present at this scenario, and laugh to themselves. They were the only ones who washed themselves because they know my MC and because they have enough life experience to know they have to do it.

Now, since I know I cannot ask you the reaction of every character to this. I would like to ask how would Oswin talk about such a scene after with MC. Maybe they are together at bed once they are going to sleep, and Oswin brings the subject because it's just so unusual he just has to ask about it.

But feel free to write something else, or nothing at all, if that's what you'd prefer.

Have a nice day!

That is such a fun association! Especially for those lighthearted and humorous moments.

I think your assessments in the handwashing are pretty darn close. Rune is quite a clean sort, so they've either already washed their hands or appreciate the reminder - likely putting the chokehold on Duri to get them to wash. Rune can be pretty stubborn, but agreeable depending on their opinion of a person or what's being asked of them.

I think if Oswin was having a moment before bed, maybe decompressing a bit with MC, he'd probably ask if MC realized how absolutely bizarre their group is. He'd talk about how MC seems to glue them all together. Especially if we're looking at a place and time when he's worked through his issues, he'd find a warmth in it and laugh about it. He's also going to ensure that no one gets away without handwashing ever again...

(Duri could be lured with peanut butter, but he'd have to sneak up and surprise ??? with water and soap) ^_^