#i know i haven’t shut up about it but god. i blocked all these tags months ago. why am i STILL SEEING FIVE X LILA POSTS

[laurrelise]

thank you for joining us this evening. here we observe me as i’m starting to read a really good character analysis about the umbrella academy.

it’s looking really good so far as it’s from an account i’ve never seen before. i follow them and continue reading, before … oh god. please, no. it slowly transitions into five x lila or harcest.

naturally, we then reach the part where i scream at glass-shattering frequencies, instantaneously and furiously block the blog owner, throw my phone out the window into oncoming traffic, and burst into flames after lighting myself on fire

[hamiltonaf]

Veiled Emotions | Lando Norris

(Part 1) | Part 2

Pairing: Lando Norris x BFF!Female Reader

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: None

A/N: Hello my loves. I’m back from my hiatus ! Had this one in my drafts for so long and finally got out of writers block to finish it. Let me know your thoughts if you’d like a part 2 ? Enjoy ! X

(Y/F/N) - Your Friend’s Name

(Y/N/N) - Your Nickname

“Oh my days” I said aloud. “No fricking way” I slapped a hand over my mouth in shock as I stared at my Instagram notifications. “Bestie what happened ?” (Y/F/N) asked as she rushed over to my side. “You are not going to believe who just followed me” I said as I looked at her. “Tell me already !” (Y/F/N) yelled. “The footballer, João Félix !” I squealed. “Shut up ! Give me that” she grabbed my phone from my hand to take a closer look. “What the- wait a second..isn’t he-“ “Yepp” I nodded as I pressed my lips together. “This is major !” She shouted.

“But how crazy that he followed me the same time these rumours started with Lando ?” I said as I snatched my phone back. “This sounds like sweet revenge to me” (Y/F/N) said as she rubbed her hands together. “I wouldn’t say revenge, I mean they’re just rumours” I shrugged. “Babe sometimes you’re blind and I feel bad for you” she said as she rubbed my back. “What do you mean I’m blind ?” I furrowed my brows.

“Don’t you see how that dumb ass doesn’t care about you when she’s around ? He doesn’t call you or text you, but if you tried calling or texting him he’s always so called ‘busy’ ! He doesn’t make time for you anymore considering you guys have known each other for 2 years now. The only time he knows you is when she’s not around which is so not on. You don’t deserve that treatment” she lectured.

“I get where you’re coming from and gosh.. I wish it was so easy to stop thinking about him, but you already know how I feel. It’s a one sided love story” I sighed. “Get over him ! I’ve been telling you this for so long, he doesn’t deserve you. If he wants to prioritise her over you, yet he knows you for god knows how long, that speaks for itself” she said. “Yeah it’s easy to say get over him, not so easy when I still get tagged on pictures and see him all over my timeline” I fussed. “Block him” she simply said. “Are you mad ? These gossip accounts and fans will notice and then people won’t stop talking about it. I can forsee what’s going to happen already, leave it to me” I reassured her. “Ugh fine, but please stop letting him have control over you” she warned. “Control over me ? Ain’t no way, I can play the same game ” I grinned to myself. I followed Joāo.

To think that my follower count is such that youoão won’t notice one extra follower, but I guessed wrong because these F1 gossip accounts don’t play. It’s only been an hour, we haven’t even DMed each other, just a follow back and F1 gossip girl had posted.

***BREAKING NEWS***

Spotted: Lando getting cozy with Magui at the trendiest spots in town. But hold your gasps, because there’s a juicy twist —João Felix and (Y/N) are now following each other. Is this just a casual follow, or a strategic move in a high-stakes game of love and rivalry ? As the drama unfolds, one thing’s for sure: the Upper East Side’s favorite social circle is about to get even more complicated. Stay tuned, darling—this is just the beginning of the scandal.

XOXO, Gossip Girl

After reading the post I felt as if I was apart of the Gossip Girl series, a childhood dream come true. Jokes aside… I showed (Y/F/N) the post and we had a good laugh for a few minutes. “At this point you NEED to date Joāo, give the fans what they want !” she said as she shook me. “Dating for drama is too much work and I don’t do fake romance” I rolled my eyes. “Girl… who said it has to be fake ? What if y’all actually fall in love oh my god !” She squealed. “Not when that idiot lives in my head rent free” I said as I grabbed the pillow from beside me and screamed into it in frustration. “Babe you need to calm down-“ and just then my Twitch notification went off. It could only go off for two people - Lando or Max.

We shared a look simultaneously, (Y/F/N) was indirectly giving me permission to open the stream. Max is in frame on the golf cart and he starts off by greeting everyone, as well as giving a brief run down of what they’re doing. I failed to remember that my username is visible until I read the comments which everyone is tagging me and saying hi or bringing up Joāo…oh dear. “I see we have our bestie watching the stream. Hey (Y/N/N) !” Max waved. I typed back ‘Heyy Max !’.

The comments were only about Joāo Felix within a few seconds. Max starts reading one of the comments, “(Y/N) wins in life with Max and Lando as her best friends and now a footballer, Joāo, is her potential boyfriend ! Unreal.” I was at a loss for words. (Y/F/N) and I looked at each other and burst out laughing at the comment, as much as I love the fans they have gone crazy. “Say what now ?” Lando said as he then came into frame and sat beside Max on the golf cart. “Shit” I muttered. “(Y/N/N) is on the stream” Max glanced at him. “Hey bestie ! Missing you” Lando said with a smile. “I hate him” I said to myself. “Me too” (Y/F/N) agreed.

‘Enjoy Portugal !’ I typed in the comments. “Bro did you know (Y/N) and Joāo are dating” Max said as he watched Lando jump off the golf cart. “You’re joking” Lando scoffed. Max cleared his throat and coughed before Lando could comment any further. “This is like watching Gossip Girl in the flesh” (Y/F/N) said. “Why does he look good” I whined. “I’ve had enough of you acting like this, please leave the stream and watch something else like TikTok or something” (Y/F/N) said as she snatched my phone to close Twitch and open TikTok instead.

I swear this day is like a fever dream. “Are you taking the piss” (Y/F/N) said as she was viewing a TikTok. “What ? Show me too” I said as I grabbed my phone from her hand. It’s a TikTok of Max’ girlfriend and Joāo’s ex. That means the rumours must be true seeing how close they are in the video.

“So much for thinking TikTok would be a good distraction” (Y/F/N) said as she closed TikTok. “This day couldn’t be more of a joke” I sighed. “You know what I’ve had enough ! Let’s get ready, we’re going out” I practically got dragged to my room. “Going where exactly ?” I asked as I sat at the edge of the bed. “Anywhere ! As long as you don’t look at your phone today” (Y/F/N) said as she rummaged through her bag for an outfit. “But I’m so not in the mood” I said as I fell back on the bed. Just then my notifications went off. A text from Lando. Strange.

(Y/F/N) paused with searching for a dress and scurried to lay beside me.

Little did Lando know was that (Y/F/N) had taken my phone away that’s why I didn’t answer his calls and bonus of it all, she lied by answering his question. “I guess fake love it is then” I furrowed my brows. “Why chase when you’re the catch, right ?” She said as she stood up to face me. “I mean I guess so” I shrugged. “You have to be confident and know that you’re worth more than chasing after this boy. He needs to chase after you” she said as she held me at my shoulders and shook me.

“Are you going to make this boy fall for you or what ?” She asked. I was hesitant to answer, “Bestie… I thought you didn’t like him” I pressed my lips together. “Only because he’s being an idiot you and I hate seeing you like this. But if it means playing cupid and bringing back my old bestie - more importantly that you’re happy then I’ll support it” she smiled softly. “Awww.. stop ! Now enough pep talk, we need to get dressed” I clapped my hands and jumped off the bed in a hurry.

yourusername added to story

(Y/F/N) suggested to post on my story as if I’m out with João and I think I nailed it considering it got a reaction out of Lando. He reacted with ‘😍’ and added, ‘You actually went on a date with him 😂’. (Y/F/N) said nothing would tick him off more than leaving him on read and that’s what I did.

After a fun night of dinner and drinks with our other girl friends, we made it back home safely and all I just wanted to do was go to sleep. I kicked off my heels and walked over to the kitchen to fill up a vase with water for the bouquet - Lando’s name lit up across my lock screen to video call. I rolled my eyes, “Ugh to answer or not to answer ?”. “Girl answer ! I wanna hear this” (Y/F/N) said as she sat beside me, away from my camera view but enough for her to see what’s happening. “Hey you, what a surprise” I greeted. “Are you back home ?” He asked. “Yeah I actually just got back” I said as I leaned against the counter.

“At 12am ?” He furrowed his brows. “I guess you can say we lost track of time” I grinned. (Y/F/N) was trying her best not to laugh. “Where did he take you ?” He asked curiously. I then grabbed the bouquet and tried to place it nicely as a whole into the vase. “Is this why you called ? To get information ?” I raised a brow. “No ! I just miss you that’s all” he sighed. “You seem perfectly fine without me, in fact you look like you’re having a lot of fun.. I don’t see how me being there would make a difference” I shrugged.

“Okay now what’s with the sarcasm ? You’re acting as if I didn’t ask you to come with !” He argued. “Oh I’m sorry Lando, but I would hate to be the third wheel for both you and Max.” “Third wheel for me ? Why is that ?” He looked confused. “Oh my god how slow are you” I rolled my eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes now, tell me why !” He broke into a smile as he started to laugh. The audacity. “Are you trying to make me look like a mug ?” I sniggered. “No no, it’s just cute to see you get upset” he smiled. “Wow okay. Anyways I’m gonna go” I grew annoyed very quickly, I just want this call to end. “Wait wait. I’m sorry okay, I’ll stop talking” he pouted. Nope, not gonna work. “No..it’s getting late anyways. I’m gonna go. Night” I huffed. “But (Y/N/N)-“ “Lando I’m tired please.” “Alright sorry..good night..love ya” he sighed. “Bye” I said softly and ended the call.

“Girlll can y’all just admit y’all love each other at this point. I felt like I was watching a couple fight. Geez” (Y/F/N) shook her head. “Absolutely not. I’m annoyed because I feel like he called for some entertainment for his girlfriend. I’m sure she’s dying to know what her ex and I were up to, and also how she can get payback for whatever reason” I said as we walked back to the room. “Babe I think you’re overthinking it. From what I saw he genuinely looked lonely and just wanted to talk to you because he misses you” she said. “Erm I’m sorry but what happened to my best friend who was against him ?” I raised a brow. “I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt” she smiled proudly.

“Love how everyone is ganging up against me like I’m the villain. Love to see it ! Not.” I faked a smile. “Sleep over it and talk to him tomorrow” she suggested. “Hmm we’ll see” I said lowly.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Stricken 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, violence, ostricization,and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you were scarred by a storm years ago and its bringer has come to upheave your life once more.

Characters: God of War!Thor

Note: I did this finally.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You always know when a storm's coming. The hairs on your arms stand and your skin burns hot. The smell of rain is tinted by another scent. That of burning flesh and ash. Your scars raze as if struck again and for a moment, you cannot hear or see. 

Slowly, the scent of rain returns to you and the noise of the patter, sometimes more a hammering, as if to remind you of its bearer. The thunder is his war cry. The lightning his wrath. You do wonder why then it should’ve come down on you. 

You keep your hood up, your chin low. Though you hide, the villagers know who you are, they know of your misfortune. The calamity wrought into your flesh in veined scars. Your face is marked with the storm, zigzagged with lines as your left eye is struck blind and white. 

Yet it isn’t your name they whisper as you stop at a stall to buy grain. It is his. The Prince of Asgard. The might God of Thunder. The monster who made you like this. 

The air is thick, roiling with unspent moisture, and the clouds threatening in a grey ripple. You should have come yesterday. You should not have waited so long.  

You trade your coin and move on, gathering the small rations you can afford. You’ll return to your hovel, gather what you can from the garden, and check the traps for rabbits. It should get you through, though the frost does eat away at your harvest.  

As you have it, between the chirping of your disfigurement, there is worse creeping from the north. The snows have fallen heavy and whole lakes have frozen to the silt. You do not believe all you hear but you know better than to disregard the nip in the air. 

Your basket remains like but you’ve spent your limit. Your cloak shifts with your movement and you shrink lower as you near the group of adolescents feigning at battle with sticks. Their audience glimpses your passing and you hear their voices mingle with laughter. 

“It’s that crone. The burnt one,” comes a bit louder than is meant. 

You don’t stop. You don’t show that you’ve heard it. There is nothing to be said.  

“Cursed, by Thor’s hammer,” another chortles, “it is said he was forging and struck the blade too hard. In his wrath, he sent a storm. A mongrel like her drew it upon herself, broken like the sword.” 

Certainly, that too is a story to be met with skepticism. One cannot guess at what the gods do in Asgard nor why they bring only misery and chaos to Midgard. You cannot disagree that the storm was no favour to you. A curse, certainly, though the meaning can never be known. 

You move along, leaving behind their whispers and their sneers. Off to your solace, to your safe. Out of the path of any wandering soul or any blowing storm.  

⛈

A storm rages without. Water swirls and batters your small abode, built against the wall of a cave on a carpet of peat. You cover your ears as the winds whistle and wail. You quake beneath your cloak, eyes locked shut as you cower away from the tempest so much as your own memories. 

The blinding white flash and the scalding hot pain. Your fingers creep up to your chin and feel the rigged scars. You can never forget, no matter how you try. You can never be as you were. You are marked, you are damaged, and as the villagers have it on their tongues, broken. 

Even your family would not have you. You remember your mother’s wail as your father drove you off like some beast. ‘The gods have smited you themselves. You cannot remain or you will wreck ruin upon us all.’ 

Days of walking and tears, like the very storm that scarred you, a haze through which you trod until you could go no more. Until your head would split and the burnt flesh began to weep. A woman found you on the forest floor, rotting away from the corruption spreading through you. 

You don’t remember much of her. Only her touch and how she healed you. She bid you off with the cloak you wear and some food for your travels. Then you were alone and thus you remain. Not even the thieves will steal from you, nor the criminals darken your door. A curse is worth no piece of gold, no drop of blood. 

The pounding of rain relents. A chill creeps beneath the slats of your door and seep into the walls. You fill the earth with what kindling you have, the clay chimney puffing smoke up through the center of the roof. You hold your hands out to warm but find little comfort. 

You settle on your side beneath your cloak and stare into the flames. You shiver. It’s cold. Very cold. Typically, the rain chases away the chill but this is different. You can feel it in the ground. You curl up tight, clinging to your warmth, let your eyes close. Sleep comes but for lack of and not peacefully. 

Your dreams are a maelstrom. There a flames and ice, one after the other, sometimes together. Sharp pointed shards frozen and hanging, then licking tendrils of heat from below. You are lost in the land of sleep, tortured by a world built of your own fears and follies. 

You wake stiff and frigid. The fire has gone out. Not even smoke remains in the pile of ash. You move carefully, bones aching, scars tingling. You touch the hard ridging along your cheek and your fingers pulse from the cold. You can see your breath. 

How can it be? It was sunny before the rain. You get your feet under you and stand with a groan. Near the door, a strange dusting of white powders around the door, flecking in from beneath and around the edges. Snow? 

Were the tales true after all? You wince as suddenly your scars singe and sting. Ow. You recoil and cover your face with your hands, hissing and wheezing through the pain. It hurts terribly. Worse than even the first strike.  

You pull your hands away as your eyes water and you blink through your tears. You can see, at least in your good eye. There is no lightning, it is only in your mind. You shakily turn and search around. You cry out again as the agony surges once more in your head. 

Why? 

Your legs quake. Something is amiss. The frost has come and this meagre hut cannot withstand it. You take your rucksack and put what you can carry into it. Your water skin is strung across your chest and your pack upon your back. You wrap your boots with rags and your hands too. You haven’t the clothing for the cold but you will need to find something. Perhaps skin a hare or two. 

The door blows inward almost as soon as you touch it, another gust nearly bowling you over. You sway with the wind and cling to the crooked doorframe. You shove yourself out, just as quickly flattened to the wall by a flurry of snow. It dusts your face coldly and you pull up your neck scarf over your nose and pull your hood into place. 

You set off, hunched, reaching with your arms as you lift your knees over the treacherous heaps. You keep close to the rock wall. The thought of turning back stops you but it seems as foolish an idea. The hovel cannot hold for much longer. You need to get to the mouth of the cave and chance a sleeping bear within. 

You sidle along, slowed by the snow and the wind, the former soaking through your clothing as the latter whips around your hood. Suddenly, a roll of thunder, like war drums, churns in the air. The word dims and the furor sounds again; louder, closer. 

You cry out and lift an arm to shield yourself instinctively. You curl your hand into the rockface and holler even louder, closing your eyes as your memory summons another storm. No, it cannot be. Not again.  

A deafening boom shakes the ground and knocks you to your knees. You crawl along, keeping low near the ragged stone, those hidden beneath the snow jabbing against your palms. You whimper and whine, blinded by the thickening curtain all around you. 

Yet you never heard of the god raining down snow upon the lands. Only the slaking rains and the hot violence of his bolts. Never this. What sword has he broken this time? Perhaps it was his very own hammer.

The thunder overhead continues its horrid thrum as more pulses in the earth. Boom, boom, boom. You feel it beneath your hands. Your knees come down clumsily as you scramble through the piling powder. You open your eyes and still cannot see. The world is smudge in gray white and black, the sky flashing and darkening from one moment to the next. 

You cry out again as your scars burn. You push yourself back on your heels and grasp your face as you shriek. It hurts! So bad! Your eyes well and flow over. Your body trembles and collapses. You writhe in the snow, contorting with the agony as your flesh feels as if it is splitting. 

Beneath the incessant pounding comes a rocky noise. Like laughter it curdles in the air and chases after you like the steady boom, boom, boom. Closer and closer, louder and louder, the earth quakes in tandem with the cacophony. 

“I’ve found another,” the deep voice scoffs and snickers, “ah, Heimdall, you must see this--” 

The craterous voice halts and the air still. The snow drifts but the wind stops and the thunder relents, the world seeming to hum. You scratch at your face as the flames grow unbearable. You must be alight. It can be the only reason for such pain. 

The large figure, a blurry silhouette in your skewed vision, looms like a mountain. He steps over you, sliding a foot between you and the cave wall and flips you onto your back. You stare up at the sky, rolling in sheets of grey and black, the dark figure standing above, blotting out the clouds. You sob and plead. 

“Make it stop!” You beg as your hood falls back, “kill me! Kill me! It hurts.” 

He bends as your eyes roll back and he grabs your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face. He pulls you half off the ground, not a single grunt for the effort. You feel whoever, whatever it is, looking down at you; upon you. A rattle rises in his gritty throat. 

“And what are you?” He breathes. 

You feel another surge and babble, reining in your wild eyes as you quiver uncontrollably. You make yourself look at him. You shudder and shake your head. Shaggy red hair, a braided beard, and eyes so blue they jolt you. Ink marks one side of his broad face as he wears fur upon his soldiers beneath emblems of the godly lands. 

“It hurts...” you rasp, “I am dying.” 

“You...” he grabs your chin, holding you by your shoulder. His thumb extends up your face to touch the scars and you let out a shrill howl as the agony piques. You latch onto his thick arm and thrash. 

“It buuuuuuuurrnssssssssss,” you scream as your spine arches. 

“Hmm,” he hums and throws you into the snow. You continue your desperate wriggling, the fire softening but not leaving you completely, “Heimdall!” He calls out like a war horn, “get your skinny ass over here!” 

There’s a tinkle of coy laughter and lighter footsteps that land on the boulder above. Your eyes drift over and you see another shadow, this one hazier but smaller. A dusting of snow flies up beside you as the other man lands beside you. No, not a man. 

Heimdall? Son of Odin. 

“Oh, Thor, what trouble have you found--” 

“Another one,” the other growls. Not the other, Thor. The God of Thunder. The beast who marked you. “Father says they all must come.” 

“This one?” Heimdall muses as his voice spikes with humour, “why look at her. Pathetic—wait a moment... brother, is this your handiwork?” He squats to see you closer and snickers again, “why how very peculiar.” 

“Bring her,” Thor barks and spins on his heel, swinging his hammer, “we haven’t time--” 

“You bring her, brother. As you say, you are so much stronger--” 

“Just do it!” Thor snarls and a peel of thunder breaks through the clouds. “I need ale.” 

[coltermorning]

Of Love and Loss Ch. 17 (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: Out of options, you decide to attempt to save Arthur from the gallows yourself.

Author’s Notes: This is where the graphic depictions of violence tag comes into play. There are some gruesome descriptions of gunshot wounds, a hanging, and death in this chapter. Also, the lyrics in italics are from the song Devil’s Backbone by The Civil Wars. It is so incredibly fitting for these two, and I recommend giving it a listen if you haven’t already heard it. Chapter seventeen of this one.

Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, high honor Arthur Morgan, minor character death, loss of parents, blood and injury, grief/mourning, survivor guilt, strangers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut, graphic depictions of violence

AO3 Link

~

Of Love and Loss

Seventeen: Purging Innocence

Word count: 4782

Oh Lord, oh Lord, what have I done? I’ve fallen in love with a man on the run Oh Lord, oh Lord, I’m begging you please Don’t take that sinner from me

~

In the low light of new day, you readied yourself. You remained outside of town, blocking out the cold bite of the wind as you loaded your gun. Nothing mattered but this—the knowledge your father had instilled in you. Caring for a rifle in the same manner of respect owed to the very animal you hoped to bring down. Today’s prey would be a different sort, but you couldn’t think about that. Not as you weighed the gun in your hands, put it up to your eye. All that was left in you was the need to protect and provide. Letting anything else in would result in so much feeling it would boil over, blocking out any chance you had of doing what needed to be done. So you gauged the wind, how it would change your shot. You felt the weight of the world in your hands. And with it and your innocence intertwining, you let them go.

You strapped the gun over your shoulder and headed into town, keeping to the outskirts. With the rifle and the revolver weighing at your hip, you were nothing short of the strangest sight any of these townsfolk had seen of a woman, so you avoided them. You had one more job to do before it was time to set your sights on the gallows, and you wouldn’t let anything keep you from it.

Wearing your hat low over your eyes, you barely caught sight of the very deputy who had confronted you the night before. He was just inside the door of some place with a scantily dressed woman in his lap. The sight didn’t surprise you, and for once, it didn’t scare you either. Your focus was razor sharp, and not toward some deputy you had been worried about only hours ago.

Passing the buildings one by one, you quickly approached the taller, well-kept hotel. After hearing all the marshal had to say about the hotel owner, you felt the need to confront the man. It didn’t make sense that he had been bribed into the marshal’s pocket only to keep from telling the deputy you were a woman. That was a crucial piece of information that would have had you caught within the hour. But he hadn’t said anything, and why? No matter the reason, it was your turn to secure his silence—you couldn’t have him knowing your face, telling the law just who to chase out of town and, God forbid, across the state. If you were to build any kind of life in Nebraska, you couldn’t leave this loose end. That is, if you ever made it out of town alive.

You rushed the steps and pushed in the door, drawing up short when the very man you wanted to confront sat just behind his desk like always. He stared at you, and you stared at him. Then you shut the door behind you and backed into it. You didn’t have much time and couldn’t risk anyone else coming in to hear this.

“Why didn’t you tell them?”

The hotel owner cocked his head, like he didn’t understand. You knew full well he did, but that didn’t stop him from choosing ignorance. “Who? I don’t get your meaning.”

You huffed a breath of frustration. “You know who. The deputy. He was looking for another man to bring in last night.” You took a step closer, being sure to listen for anyone’s approach through the door at your back. “You didn’t tell him he shouldn’t be looking for a man, but a woman.”

He looked a little dumbfounded, then shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re on about, miss.”

Enough of this. For the first time, you took Arthur’s gun out of its holster and aimed it at another human being. He threw his hands up. “Whoa! Now, hold on a minute!”

“Tell me what you’re up to, or I’ll shoot.” You had no intention of doing so, but he didn’t have to know that.

“Nothing! I ain’t up to anything!”

You cocked the hammer. “I know about your little deal with the marshal. If you’re so loyal to him, why didn’t you sell me out?” He hesitated, his face going slack. Caught dead to rights. “Answer me!”

“Okay! Okay, I didn’t…he’s…the man’s a crook. I didn’t want to believe it, but he is. He came in here and paid me to stay quiet about that man you were with being here all night, and I didn’t want to believe the marshal was no better than that brother of his. So I did what he said but…I left you out of it. My way of spiting him for it, I guess.” The man looked dejected despite the gun pointed at his face. You believed him. You brought the gun back down.

“Why just help me? Why not mislead the deputy away from both of us?”

He shook his head. “They would have sniffed that out real quick. Then I’d have the marshal on my tail. And as for you, I’m certainly regretting it now, but I thought you were…you came in here that first day looking- well, looking pretty incapable of something like this. I felt sorry for you. Now I don’t.”

You uncocked the gun and holstered it. “You shouldn’t. But I appreciate your discretion. Can I count on you to keep that discretion going forward?” You stepped up to his desk and lowered your voice. “Or am I going to have to do something much worse than that crook of a marshal?”

His eyes narrowed, but you swore you caught the edges of a grin on his mouth. “You’re certainly not what I thought.”

“Answer the question.” You didn’t know where all this authority was coming from, but you felt it coursing through your veins like it had been lying there dormant all along. Like it took the threat of something much greater than your own life to bring it out. “Because if you don’t keep me out of all this, I won’t be the only one you have to worry about.”

“Your friend,” he muttered. “Just what are you planning?” Shit. You’d said too much. But you couldn’t give in now.

“Something better left unspoken. And I suggest you keep it that way, lest I have to pay you another visit.” You patted Arthur’s gun. “Or worse, my friend does. He won’t be too happy to hear you helped frame him.”

The hotel owner paled a bit. Legitimately paled over the thought of Arthur coming back for him. You knew just how intimidating the man could be, but that look alone had you swelling with pride. And it was time to go keep said pride alive.

“Are we square?”

The man nodded.

“Good.” You gave him one last, long look, then took your hand off the revolver. You turned on your heel and left before he could do anything more to stop you. You would let no one stop you from what came next.

Rushing to get to the place you had decided on, you kept to the shadows of the still-dawning day. In the case the hotel owner did decide to intervene, you needed to be well hidden hours in advance of the scheduled hanging. You also wouldn’t risk any chance of being late, of them moving the hanging up an hour, anything. So you arrived at your decided-upon spot, scaling the nearby building’s stairs, jumping onto the adjacent balcony, and hauling yourself onto the roof. The early hour kept anyone from noticing you, but the gun at your shoulder still weighed you down like a promise of death to come. There would be no relief today. Not until Arthur was free of a rope he had never deserved in the first place.

The hours went by slowly. All you could do was sit in silent stillness and watch the town stir. It was mostly uneventful, but you could tell the townsfolk knew of the hanging. The gallows you’d settled yourself across from drew more eyes than yours. And when the tenth hour neared, a crowd gathered. It was then that your nerves set in once more. That quiet determination that had kept them at bay was a result of the job that had to be done, but now you were thinking of Arthur. Of what these people would soon be cheering for and demanding of that despicable town marshal. It was sickening to think about. Especially because nothing could be done to change their minds, not even the truth. So when words weren’t enough, force it would be. You’d never imagined your life would lead you to an act so savage. In fact, you had been wishing all night you weren’t as savvy with a gun, weren’t as confident in your abilities, anything to get you out of doing what needed to be done. But Arthur would die if you didn’t help him. He may die anyway. All you could hope was that this little bit of skill you had would get you far enough for him to save himself. Whatever came of you was another matter. It would be worth it, to expend your life for his. You wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for him anyway. So when the nearby jailhouse doors came swinging open and out walked the very men you had been waiting for, you gritted your teeth and steeled your resolve. It was time.

~

Arthur’s mind turned thought over thought like lightning, never stopping its mad descent. He always figured his mind would be blank before his death. He thought he would be filled with determination somehow, that he would go out fighting. Not like this. This was much worse. He had every moment to be thinking about regrets, about the gang and how they would wonder about him, about Mary and his son, about you. About what would happen to you without him. He couldn’t bear it. And yet he found himself complying, walking along dutifully, because what other choice did he have? His hands were quite literally tied, and the only thing that could stop this was a distraction the likes of which his gang used to pull. But there would be no Dutch or Hosea or any of the others to save him this time. There would be death, painful and likely not so swift, and just enough time for him to regret all the hell he had raised, as it would likely shape his afterlife into the very same. If there even was one. He couldn’t stomach that thought on top of everything else, so when he approached the nearing crowd and the gallows, he began to look for you. Even if it was just so he could see you and speak to you one last time when they allowed him his last words, if that piece of shit marshal even granted him that much.

The crowd started cussing at him, spitting at his feet as he walked by, hungry for a guilty soul to punish. It didn’t matter that they all detested George Lawrence just as much as he had. In fact, in searching the crowd, Arthur recognized some of the very men who had glared at the late Lawrence in the saloon just two days ago, all piping mad at him now instead. So be it. So long as he had one person in the crowd who believed in his innocence. Someone who cared for him enough to be here. But maybe you weren’t, and that was probably better for you anyway. Your odds of surviving would go up tremendously if you left him behind. How funny that was, since the opposite used to be true.

Arthur spiraled downward into memories of you, of this harrowing trip made better by your presence. He met the stairs and was led on by the deputies, but he didn’t balk. He didn’t shy away from his fate. He had known it would be something like this sooner or later. And when Marshal Lawrence joined him on the gallows and spoke over the crowd about his guilt, Arthur didn’t fight him on it. He didn’t say a word against the man or even look at him as the noose was slipped over his head and tightened around his neck. It was a suffocating feeling. Arthur panicked, his breathing hitching in his chest—his body’s last feeble attempt at survival. He barely heard when Lawrence asked if he had any last words. But then he remembered you and the slim chance you were watching. So he gathered his courage and looked out at the crowd of faces, only speaking to one in particular that he still had yet to see.

“I’m…sorry. I’m sorry I got us into this.” He couldn’t risk exposing you, so he switched tracks. And said the last words he would ever utter. “May God favor the innocent.” He looked the marshal straight in the eye. The man stared hard back. Fuck that bastard. Arthur grinned.

“Pull it,” Lawrence spat.

Arthur braced himself for the loss of the floor, for the drop, for the pain of a broken neck. He heard the wrenching creak of the lever at his side. Then he fell. The sky boomed with sound, and he never stopped falling until his feet hit the dry, hard earth below.

~

Give me the burden, give me the blame I’ll shoulder the load, and I’ll swallow the shame Don’t care if he’s guilty, don’t care if he’s not He’s good and he’s bad and he’s all that I’ve got Oh Lord, oh Lord, I’m begging you please Don’t take that sinner from me

~

Your gun cracked louder than thunder, making the crowd duck in panic. It left the perfect pathway for you to watch as Arthur’s rope snapped in two—your shot was dead on. He hit the ground below the gallows with half a noose hanging from his neck like a dead limb. He looked around in disbelief for all of a heartbeat before he bolted. Good. You had other matters to attend to.

The marshal was shouting, and the deputies were scrambling, all of their guns drawn. One spotted Arthur rounding the corner of the building and took aim. But you were faster, the gun already at your eye. You put a shot in close enough to scare the deputy senseless. If you could draw their attention to you, you could keep them off of Arthur’s back.

They searched wildly for the source of the second gunshot, either too dumb or too disoriented to look up. So when one made to run after Arthur, you put a third shot in at his feet, drawing him up short. It was then that the marshal spotted you.

“On the roof!”

All heads not busy ducking away under nearby awnings swung to you. You didn’t care. Let them look. You trained your sights on the marshal, ready to kill him if he so much as thought about going after Arthur. The others, Arthur could escape from, but a quick draw would be tricky to outrun. So you had vowed this morning that you would help Arthur escape Marshal Lawrence by any means necessary, even if it meant killing the man. You would do it for Arthur without a shred of doubt. So you kept your sights on the marshal while shots rang out in your general direction and he found cover and barked orders, even when he sent two of his deputies in the direction Arthur had gone. You’d given the outlaw enough time to get away. Those ropes binding his hands would be a problem, but you had no doubt he could find a good hiding spot in the meantime and solve that problem himself. Now, all that was left was for you to either escape or die trying. And from the look on that determined marshal’s face down the spine of your gun, escape would not come easy.

Once you were sure Arthur was in the clear and only had two deputies after him, you shouldered your gun and fled the roof. Instead of going the way you had come—the obvious way—you flung yourself over the back edge of the building and scaled down the steep roof of the first story. You were half-running, half-falling down it when you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps in hot pursuit from where you had just come.

“They’re getting away!” a man yelled, and it was all you could do not to be overcome with terror when a shot rang out and struck the roof right beside you. You leapt over the edge, your knees buckling completely when you hit the ground just as another shot came raining down, barely missing you a second time. You wouldn’t risk turning and fighting how many men you had seen in pursuit, so you were immediately up again, gun at the ready, keeping under the roofline at a steady sprint. You turned a sharp corner and kept on, knowing all the banking turns would keep that deputy off your back. It really was a shame for the lawmen that they hadn’t built their gallows on the outside of town. Now all you had to do was hide in one of the many buildings surrounding you, stash your weapons and gun belt, and look as frightened as the rest of the town if you got caught.

You made turn after twisting turn, keeping the general direction of where you were headed. You didn’t run into anymore lawmen, just other fleeing townspeople, but you knew this wasn’t the hard part. The hard part would be getting out of town later. So you kept on, head down, hands steady. You could do this.

You heard occasional shouting, likely by the remaining deputies or angered townsfolk, but none too close. You finally found the perfect spot to stash your things—behind a wall that turned back on itself. You got behind it, threw your rifle down, and began unstrapping Arthur’s gun belt when a hand wrapped around your mouth and yanked you backward. You started to scream, panic paralyzing you.

“Shhhh,” came a deep voice you knew, his hand still covering your mouth to keep you quiet. “Just me.”

You spun around and pulled Arthur into you, crushing him to you. He laughed with the same quiet relief you felt. “It’s okay. I got you.”

You savored the feel of him hugging you back, alive and whole. Warm to the touch. You felt tears form in your eyes, spilling down your face.

“I got you,” he repeated. “Thanks for the save, by the way. That was a damn fine shot, hitting that rope.” He pulled away and looked down at you, smiling. It was the most rewarding sight in the world.

“I thought I- I didn’t think I would ever see you again.”

His close-lipped smile turned into something softer, something more caring as he said, “As much as you probably wished I would, I ain’t leaving here without you.”

You shoved him in the chest and laughed. That humor of his you loved so much, still here for you to enjoy. It took you until then to notice his hands were free, and the noose around his neck was gone.

“How’d you get rid of the ropes?”

“An outlaw can’t reveal all his secrets,” he said, winking at you. You felt a familiar flush of warmth within you at the sight. You thought to kiss him but couldn’t before he said, “You got a plan to get out of here, then?”

“I tied up Boadicea and Harriet outside of town behind some shed next to a house. We need to get to them before Marshal Lawrence and his deputies find them. I thought it would be best to wait until nightfall.”

Arthur shook his head. “They’ll be expecting that. And better prepared. I say we go now and hope we ain’t too outnumbered.”

“Sure.” You watched a plan form behind his eyes and felt pride like none other come alive within you. More than pride. Something nearly tangible it was so strong.

“Okay,” he said, his mind made up. “I think it best we-”

You spotted movement and shoved Arthur aside. A man with a badge stood not fifteen feet away, already aiming his gun. You reached for the only one you had within grasping distance—Arthur’s—and shot it at him. The gun kicked, and the man’s head exploded with red, the bullet digging into his eye and out of the back of his skull. You hadn’t- didn’t-

“Shit,” Arthur said, taking the gun from you. Not even a second passed, and the gun was pried away, and the man’s body was falling limp to the ground. There was so much blood. Bits of the inside of his head scattered around him, showering the brick of the building behind where he had stood. Not to mention the awful sound that was ringing through you, repeating, that unraveling of bone and blood and eye that should have been whole. You killed him. You did.

“We need to leave,” Arthur said. You could barely hear him, could barely feel his hand where it grasped your arm, tugging you on. “Now. That gunshot’ll draw anyone near.”

Arthur was right. You knew he was right. And still, you couldn’t pry your eyes away. So he pulled you away himself, grabbing your rifle and starting in a run. It was all you could do to follow.

The sight of the man dying flooded your vision. Arthur shoved your rifle in your hands, but you would be useless with it. He had his own gun back, and that was enough for you to replay that moment over and over again. You could stand to kill that awful marshal, but an innocent deputy?

“This way,” Arthur said lowly, turning a corner. The way beyond revealed the edge of town, and you could hardly believe escape was so close, like part of you didn’t want it anymore. Didn’t deserve it.

You followed Arthur along by more instinct than anything, as he asked you where your mounts were tied, and you couldn’t even say it. You pointed instead, revealing the house midway out of town. He tugged on your hand and headed for it.

The pair of you reached the house without running into anyone else. Arthur was rounding the corner of the house toward the very shed your molly and his mare waited behind when out stepped none other than the marshal, a despicable grin splitting his face.

“Going somewhere?”

Arthur shoved you behind him. All thought of the recent past fled at the sight of the present. From the looks of it, the marshal was alone and thereby outnumbered, but you were too distracted by what you had just done to even think about ending another life. That left the two of them. Arthur was quick with a gun, but quicker than the marshal?

“How’d you get here?” Arthur demanded.

“Seems the fine folks who own this place grew suspicious over the two extra equines behind their woodshed. They were all too happy to pass along the information.”

Time stood still a moment, and that loathsome noise of a skull cracking open began repeating again. But Arthur managed to stall it when he said, “All right. What do you say then, Marshal? Quickest draw walks away?”

“Arthur,” you hissed. Now wasn’t the time for such confidence. Not when all the two of you had risked to get here was moments away from unraveling.

“It would be my pleasure,” the marshal responded, that nasty smile returning. “Or, I could always haul you back in. I’m sure the town would be interested in having you back in its clutches, awaiting another hanging. You and your partner there.” He eyed you for all of a second. “A woman, no less.”

You grabbed Arthur to make him look at you. “Arthur, no. This is exactly what he wants.” But he wouldn’t look at you, eyes set on his opponent, jaw sharp with tension. You had half a mind to cause some sort of distraction no matter the consequence, but Arthur was sealing his fate before you could.

“This is between you and me, buddy.” To prove it, he pushed you away from him, never taking his eyes off of Lawrence.

“Arthur!”

Too late. He had already settled his gun at his side, mimicking the marshal, their stances ready.

“On three?” Lawrence taunted.

Arthur nodded sharply, and all thought of what you had just done got whisked away in the heat of the moment. He couldn’t do this to you. Not now.

You watched without breathing as the marshal began counting. They both stood stock still, waiting. And when three was shouted, they moved so fast that you staggered back, praying for mercy. Especially when two more men came rounding the corner of the woodshed, guns held high, badges flashing in the sun.

Watching, unbelieving, you were taken back to that day on the ridge outside of town, running scared while Arthur took on five men. You were taken back to Arthur mowing down those wolves while you cowered inside a tent. You could see it all clear as day now, because he had done it all, and now you knew how.

Before the marshal could even lift his arm, Arthur’s gun was firing, ringing out another harrowing note for you to dread. But you didn’t have to dread it for long, as any worry that his aim was off was crushed when the marshal went flying backward, that same splattering noise from before resounding. The report of the gun didn’t have a chance to echo before two more joined it, cracking again and again. You watched every moment of Arthur’s absolute determination, his perfect aim. He took all three men down with three shots. None of them had time to pull the trigger.

When the relentless sound ceased, all you could do was look to the three bodies now dead on the ground, in complete awe over Arthur’s ability. He wasn’t just fast—that was the work of legend. That was instinct and skill bound together so tightly no man could ever hope to rival it.

“Let’s go,” Arthur said, already ushering you toward the back of the shed. Every step nearer revealed the sound of nervous horse and mule, but you couldn’t even think about relief. Not as the smell of blood filled your nose, that sound of man dying plaguing you once more.

Arthur had his gun at the ready this time when he rounded the corner, but all that was revealed was Harriet, Boadicea, and three other horses—the lawmen’s.

“Last chance for a horse,” Arthur said, already at Boadicea’s side and digging through his saddle bag.

“No,” was all you could say. You stepped up to Harriet and ran a hand down her neck. She sniffed you in return, her wide eyes at all the commotion calming some. “Easy,” you murmured. And just like that, she grounded you. Centered you within the here and now. For as terrible as the day had been, she was here, alive as you were. So was Arthur. And when you watched him mount his horse and proceed to reload his gun faster than you’d ever seen a man do, you realized it wasn’t fear you were feeling. Not fear, or hopelessness, or even that nagging regret. You weren’t scared of Arthur and the things he could do. You were amazed. You were caught up in wondering how you had ever come across a man as fine and talented as this. And how you had ever won his favor. It lacked all notion of sense. But you shook the feeling off and vowed to put this town and all its evil behind you, at least until you were out of it. You put your foot in the stirrup and swung over Harriet.

“Ready?” Arthur asked, having Boadicea already pointed away from town. Without looking back, you nodded at him. He gave his horse a kick and a loud, “Yah!” and was off. You hesitated all of a breath before following him, wind whipping past, your molly running hard to close the gap between you. Like she knew wherever Arthur and Boadicea were, the two of you would never be far behind.

_________

Chapter eighteen is here.

tag list: @nayomi247 @ultraporcelainpig @photo1030 @spiritcatcherxo @calcarius445 @meet-me-backstage @marygillisapologist @formula1mount @oziozzioslo @lunawolfclaw

[galaxycunt]

My Dinner With Buggy pt 2

I love playing with dialog so I figured why not keep going. As with part one it’s all dialogue so enjoy the ride everyone lol

Tagging @gingernut1314 @gayafsatan as yall requested a part 2 a million years ago

Sea spray hits your face as you left the restaurant, “so, what’s the move?”

Hands appear in front of you holding two bottles of wine, “one for each of us.”

“Really? In front of a lieutenant like that?”

“You gonna handcuff me, officer?”

You giggle, “miss Impel Down that much, huh?”

“God! Let’s not talk about that fucked up place. Take the wine, honey.”

“I let you order steak and this is how you repay me?”

He wags his tongue, “I’m covering dessert.”

“Gross.”

“You love it, shut up. So where’s this room you got?”

“Couple blocks down. You don’t wanna go to a bar?”

“I haven’t seen you in at least 6 years. I wanna make up for lost time.”

“Tch. Shooting for the stars tonight?”

Buggy frowns, “I thought this was a date.”

You falter, “hey. I thought we were teasing. Come here, Bug.”

Your lips taste sweet, “I missed you a lot. I’m not the only salty dog missing their lost love, but hey, you’re more important, so there.”

You kiss him again, “let’s go out for a little bit?”

“Sure, I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go. Oh shit! I forgot, I left something for you on the ship.”

“We got road wine, let’s go get it”

“This is nice, by the way.”

“It is. Too bad you ain’t a civ, easier. Even easier if you were a marine.”

“I’m gonna ask again. You’d like it.”

“I dunno, man. Lot of baggage with that. Especially on the Grand Line.”

“Not with me.”

“You already got captured once, baby.”

“I know, I know. But you hate this shit. Been in the game too long, why?”

“I dunno, maybe I felt we were doing something good. Too old for that shit, I guess”, the Big Top is as nice as you remember it, “there’s the old girl.”

He smiles, “my two girls, together at last.”

“I wonder if that note I left is still there.”

“Note? What-“

“-captain! Oh shit, look who it is!”

“-Cabaji! Glad someone’s keeping Bug outta trouble!”

He smiles at the two of you, “we should catch up. Later.”

“Thanks, man. See ya.”

“So what note?”

“Oh! It’s uh, not important. Just something I wrote last time I was here.”

“Where’d you hide it?”

“In the galley, deep, deep in the pantry.”

He kisses you, “let’s go find it then.”

“Buggy, no. Come on, you’re supposed to take me out.”

“Real quick. I promise.”

You tug him away, to no avail, “Buggy. It’s really stupid, you’ll enjoy it after a few drinks.”

“I got a few bottles in my room. We can read it there.”

“What about my gift?”

“Just a buncha jewelry, who cares? I’m finding that letter.”

Turns out he can find anything with ease if he wanted to, “aw. Your handwriting is so cute sometimes.”

“Oh, shut up.”

He kisses your temple, he’s getting very touchy, you realize, “lemme guess, treasure map?”

“Look, it’s something I wrote when we were like 18.”

“….really?”

“Uh huh.”

He jerks his chin toward his cabin, “let’s take this somewhere quiet.”

You hear your heart beat in your ears, cheeks on fire, “it’s really cringey. I was 18.”

“Do you really not want me to read it?”

“You’ll make fun of me.”

“I won’t. I really won’t.”

“Okay.”

“I already know you love me.”

You laugh, “shit. Guess you’re right.”

He clears his throat, “Buggy, our paths are unwinding, the red string of fate tugging us apart.”

“Oh Jesus, it’s worse than I thought.”

Heightening his voice he continues, “if only I knew the devil’s pact I made, and the one you sold your soul to. My love I can’t bear it. You don’t even know I love you.”

“See, that’s why I didn’t wanna read it.”

“So why even give it to me?”

“Because I didn’t think you loved me.”

He grows serious, “I did. Why did you think I did that stupid shit? To impress you, dummy.”

“You’re such a clown.”

“Exactly! You liked clowns.”

You smile, “yeah, I remember that asshole at the pier.”

“Join my crew, I’ll marry ya.”

“Only if I join?”

“We been apart too long, I’m not waiting until I hit some shitty village every six months to see you.”

“Ah, that makes sense now.”

“Sometimes I’d lower the Jolly Roger, just see if our boats can pass by, if I can see you on the deck.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah.”

You stare at his lips, you wouldn’t be the only Marine turning, “marry me tonight then.”

“Don’t think captains can officiate their own wedding.”

“Let’s find someone.”

He looks at the clock, “and if we can’t?”

“Ask me again tomorrow. Do it for real.”

Buggy picks you up instead, “can we just skip to the wedding night?”

“I’m not gonna marry you then.”

He smirks, “according to that letter, we’ve been married for 18 years already.”

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

chapter 10

warnings: swearing, life discussions, mentions of pregnancy

AN: so u all know this is self indulgent at best. So from here on out, reader is AFAB and has the corresponding plumbing. There will be some talk of it and whatnot, especially in this chapter ✌️

tags: @illiana-mystery, @eroticaplush

Sunlight streamed in the window and I groaned. Curling further into Dan, I buried my face into his neck. He groaned in his sleep and rolled onto his side, effectively blocking the sun. I hummed happily and snuggled into him. His arm was wrapped around me loosely as I fought against waking up. Sighing defeatedly, I pulled back enough to look up at him. With the light behind him, I couldn’t believe he was back in my life like this. My emotions started to get the better of me. Biting my lip, I slowly reached up to brush some hair off his face. Dan leaned into my touch slightly in his sleep. I smiled softly as a tear slid down my nose. My fingers danced over his cheek and found their way into his beard.

Dan hummed as he woke up, turning to kiss my hand. Reaching up with his other hand, he gently brushed away my tears. A small crease between his eyebrows appeared as he rubbed his thumb over my cheek.

“Why are you crying?” He whispered. I smiled at him and leaned forward to kiss him.

“I’m fine.” I gently scratched his bread and Dan hummed again. “Really. Just very happy to have you back in my arms.” There must have been something in my tone because Dan tightened his grip on me, drawing me closer to him.

“You have no idea how glad I am to hear that.” He sighed out as he moved to lay on his back. He pulled me with him so I curled up on his chest. “After this last week…” closing his eyes, Dan absentmindedly rubbed my arm. “I think there’s a few things we have to talk about.” He said after a while. Squeezing my eyes shut, I let out a shaky breath.

“Yeah.” I agreed. “As much as I might not want to, we probably do.” Dan hummed before sitting up. I sat next to him and draped my legs over his lap. Dan smiled at the gesture and rubbed my leg. “I should probably start with my parents know I’m seeing someone. I didn’t explicitly tell them about you but they picked up that something wasn’t right.” Dan nodded slowly.

“What did you tell them?” He asked.

“just that I took a chance. And at the time I thought I screwed it up.” I shrugged. “I was talking to them when you showed up yesterday. So they know that you are here. And I texted them that it worked out before we went to sleep. I haven’t looked but I’m sure they know that it means I’m seeing someone.” Dan squeezed my leg. “And I will have to tell them about you eventually. They will probably want to come out to meet you.” I trailed off and turned my gaze to the window. Dan hummed and drew my attention back to him.

“That’s okay.” He shrugged. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” I smiled at him and nodded.

“there’s something big on my end.” Dan took a deep breath. “I don’t really want to bring this up after what we just went through. But…”

“It’s something we should.” I nodded.

“I don’t know if I want to get married again.” He breathed out. Dan rested his hands on my leg and played with his fingers. “I’m not opposed to spending the rest of my life with someone, especially you but I just know I have no intention of walking down the aisle again.” Biting my lip, I took in the information. Dan fidgeted in his spot and I stared at his hands.

“I…” I hummed as I tried to sort through my thoughts. “I can understand that. I think I want to get married one day.” Dan made a noise and I looked up at him. His eyes were sad as they took me in. “But I’m not entirely sure. I’m still figuring it out. I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my life with you. Or as much time as we have.” I shrugged as Dan chuckled. “Maybe one day we can revisit that.” Dan nodded and leaned forward to kiss me.

“thank god.” He murmured. I smiled against his lips and pulled back. “One other thing. I…don’t particularly want children.” Dan rubbed the back of his neck and focused on my hands in my lap. I nodded.

“please refer back to the previous statement about marriage for my opinion on kids.” I smiled at him and Dan let out a sigh of relief. “So we use condoms still and we take all precautions.” I shrugged. “Long as I can still have sex with you, I’m fine.” Dan laughed and pulled me closer to him.

“Thank you.” He mused as he brushed my hair out of my face. “That’s everything on my end.” He sighed as he leaned back, pulling me with him.

“Uh I have a question.” I said as I pulled back so I could see his face. “Is what Gurgs said true? You used to be a male stripper?” Dan blushed and chuckled. Shaking his head, he tried to hide his face in my shoulder.

“I’m going to get her for this.” He laughed. “So bad.” Pulling back to look at me, he smiled awkwardly. “Yeah. Really only to pay my way until I got into a law firm. Once I did, I stopped.” I laughed and shook my head before cupping his cheek.

“why am I not surprised?” I smiled at him. Dan held my hand against his cheek and smiled. “Anything else I should know about?”

“Abbie will probably let it slip at some point. So I might as well tell you.” Dan rolled his eyes and let his head fall back against my headboard. “My name isn’t Dan.” I tilted my head at him in confusion. “Well it is but my name isn’t Daniel k. Fielding. The k doesn’t mean anything. I just picked it because it sounds good together.” He huffed and hung his head. “My name is reinhold Daniel fielding.” I smiled softly at him.

“Dan, honey. That’s not a big deal.” I laughed. Dan scoffed and rolled his eyes at him. “I’m serious. Your name could be sandy for all I care. It’s no big deal to me.” He sighed and leaned over to kiss me.

“Thank you.” He hummed. I ran my fingers through his hair.

“So you still want me to call you Dan?” I asked, knowing the answer but still wanting to be sure.

“Yeah. Only Abbie knows. She knows things.” He shrugged and smiled at me. “By the way, I’m trusting you with that information. I’d rather not have it spread around.” I nodded before settling into his lap.

“I should say though,” I mused as I wrapped my arms around his neck. “I do like reinhold.” Dan chuckled and shook his head.

“You don’t have to try to make me feel better (Y/N). I’ve come to terms with it now.” Pecking my cheek, Dan trailed his nose along my jaw. “I wish my parents were around to meet you. They would have loved you.” I flushed and ducked my head.

“I wish I could say the same about my parents.” Dan squeezed my side.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Okay?” He ducked his head to meet my eyes. “It’s no big deal.” I nodded, my nerves still there but pushed to the side for the moment.

“Okay.” I leaned into him and put my head on his shoulder. “Let’s take the day.” I mused. Dan laughed and agreed. Pulling my laptop over, I pulled something up for us to watch. Dan kissed my cheek again before settling in to watch.

[moderndaycirce]

Find the Word/Manuscript Search Tag

Tagged by @just-a-cybercroissant! Words: passion, lips, shoot and mental.

Passion - Nothing Else Matters (Chapter 21)

“Don’t fuckin’ talk about Alt.” He knew how dangerous he sounded, and he thought he’d healed pretty well after spending a whole year in the Net with her- but something about it coming out of Rogue’s mouth pissed him off. 

“Why not? Because it all feels the same to me.” She was goading him now, he knew that tone. This wasn’t the calm and collected fixer Rogue, this was the Rogue he’d fallen for- the one full of fire and passion, who could fight as good as she fucked. God, he missed her. 

“It’s nothing like that.” 

“You haven’t changed at all, this is exactly who you are.” She snapped at him with anger in her eyes. “You just found another pretty woman who needs saving, sounds pretty fucking familiar doesn’t it?”

Lips - Nothing Else Matters (Unpublished WIP Chapter)

“Johnny.” Judy spoke, taking his attention off Panam. “We just want to help.” 

He looked at the small techie, pursing his lips. V had cared a lot about her, and she’d come back to a city she’d hated because V had dropped off the map. And if there was anyone in this room who would understand the issue, then it’d be the porn editor who used to work in a sex club. 

“How much of the footage did you watch?” He asked the women, still looking at Judy. 

“We read-“ Panam started but he cut her off. 

“The footage. Fuck, you got scop for brains or somethin’?” He was irritated now. 

Shoot - Untitled SilverDyne WIP

“I think I’m in love with you.” Kerry mumbled, his words shooting straight through Johnny like a block of ice. He tried not to let Kerry feel how tense he’d gotten, shifting so he could curl closer into his side. 

“No. You’re not.” Was all he replied, trying to keep his voice even, to not let Kerry hear how much that scared him. He’d already fucked up the last time someone had fallen in love with him. He was bound to fuck this up too.

“I am. And I’m terrified ‘cause I’ve never been in love before.” He heard Kerry whisper, his lips almost pressed against the skin on his chest. Johnny squeezed his eyes shut, praying to the god he didn’t believe in that Kerry wouldn’t remember this in the morning. Praying that the drugs in his system were just making him have these feelings, that they weren’t real. Because he didn’t know what he’d do if they were. 

Mental - Nothing Else Matters (Chapter 15)

“You really gonna punch a one armed man?” He shot at Kerry, whose eyes widened when he realised that Johnny was missing something important.

“What happened to your arm?” Kerry asked. 

“We don’t know.” V said, finally composing herself enough to speak. “It wasn’t in there with him.” 

“And he’s… all there?” Kerry asked, and Johnny scowled at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“If you’re talking about the engram, yes. I think so.” V said before Johnny could get any angrier. He’d heard too many comments over his lifetime about his mental health to let something like that go easily.

Tagging @thatkorka @z-lagorio @timaeusterrored and @bubble-bones

Your words are: Past, Moment, Frozen and Corner

[mrsblackruby]

Once again if you don’t want me to interact as a Billy fan say Billy fans don’t interact. That’s all u should say. I will respect it but …

Don’t say it’s because Ur all racists or something that’s spreading false narratives about us online because if you do at that point it’s not about communicating a boundary. It’s you wanting to disrespect ours so At that point I will clap back if I choose to.

Just say Billy fans don’t interact. Then don’t interact or say shit about us.

Respect garners respect. If you aren’t bringing me up in conversation or advocating for something harmful and you’ve communicated u don’t care to hear me out. I will shut the tf up plain and simple. I would not jump to add anything related to the conversation u started online anymore cuz I would feel like there would be no need to rebuttal further cuz I wouldn’t care.

If you just want to shit talk Billy the character and don’t want his fans to see I understand and I won’t care to engage.

At that point i would feel in the wrong for pressing the issue but if u want 2 shit talk about other fans then say Billy fans DNI then ur coming off to me as a completely scary ass Mfer coward. Don’t bring us up u crossed the boundary first. It shouldn’t be expected 4 people not to engage when ur calling them lower than life. I’m gonna tell u ur a wrong fuck & say be damned to ur nebulous DNI. U can’t respect it ur self.

It’s like u saying you don’t want to be my friend then u keep saying shit about me and getting mad when I defend myself. It’s immaturity.

Don’t want to be friendly then shut the fuck up or expect me to god Damn respond until u block me cuz u can’t defend ur self 😝. That’s doesn’t mean I’m condoning online harassment no never I condone self defense.

I don’t come in the anti tags posting Billy Hargrove p*rn out of respect cuz y’all have communicated repetitively he makes you uncomfortable. I feel differently about Billy’s character tho. Don’t come in the anti tag expecting submission & silence because u have a don’t interact but can’t stop talking shit. Block if u must but it’s not cuz you’ve been wronged it’s because u couldn’t back ur self up.

Just shit talk Billy Hargrove the character don’t diss real human beings and expect them not to show up and clap back. that’s a completely different thing.

Not every Billy fan blocks the anti Billy tag u shouldn’t expect them to. But you shouldn’t shit talk em. In ur echo chamber then act like they’ve poisoned u by choosing to retaliate.

I expect pro Billy post in pro Billy tags.

I expect anti Billy posts in anti Billy tags.

If I see someone has shit to say about me myself and I as a Billy Hargrove fan myself in either tags I will defend until u get my name out ur mouth or run away scared or until I don’t care or until I block u. But I might chose to engage know that.

Expect people to engage when u put something online if you don’t want Billy fans to engage make it clear. Don’t defame their personal character. That’s all u have to do to ensure most Billy fans respect ur DNI; If you don’t want them to engage. Then if a fan of Billy’s does engage anyway they’re the one who disregarded ur boundaries. If u can’t simply do that then you’ve disregard theirs. They haven’t somehow wronged u by sharing their opinion about themselves in a conversation u brang them up in wth. 

Now if you’re complaining about the treatment of some Billy fans make it clear ur talking about some and u don’t think it’s some inherent threat to like and relate to a fictional character.

If u think being a fan of Billy is an unhealthy threat to ur personhood expect clap back

I don’t think being an anti is an inherent threat it depends on how you move do u respect fans of a character in fandom or do u want smoke.

I really don’t gaf if you don’t like Billy or see the story differently. Just respect other fans in fandom. If u can’t do that don’t expect other fans to submit to ur will.

Anyway if u respectively say Billy fans DNI. U probably won’t find ur self in a situation where u block me for engaging with ur post. I’ll try to be reminiscent of a ghost. If you end up blocking anyway it’s cuz u just want to block me not cuz I’m interacting with ur post. I try to respect DNIs when they aren’t just you trying to talk shit with no pushback from that community online. If they choose to push back on the fuckery I don’t blame them.

[josephthesnailshow]

Burnt Luigi (Post #3)

Hello, it's Joseph again. I apologize for not posting about this in so long, and unfortunately, I couldn’t get video footage last night. My computer keeps acting up, and it’s driving me insane. This might be because Avast, my anti-virus software, kept tagging Project 64 and my Super Mario 64 file as viruses. I uninstalled it, so I should be able to record it later.

I should also point out something. When I was writing this post, I noticed that my wallpaper had changed to that disturbing grayscale photo of Luigi, the same exact one that showed up during my gameplay. This startled me because it was the normal desktop picture earlier. Thankfully, I was able to change that freaky Luigi photo back to the original one.

I’ve attached a screenshot of my wallpaper from that time for those who are curious.

As of last night, I haven’t really checked the Mario Amino much, and thankfully, when I did check, there were no messages from that Luigi guy. However, when I checked Discord, like I usually do, I was instantly hit with a message.

Burnt Luigi: Hello, JosephTheSnail.

Oh, for the love of God. Yes, this thing has the “APP” (formerly known as “BOT”) icon, which shows that Burnt Luigi is a bot. Yeah, I know, Captain Obvious speaking here.

Burnt Luigi: How are you today?

Me: ...Good...?

Me: You?

Burnt Luigi: I am fine. Remember me?

This guy must think I'm stupid or something. Of course, I remember him. I had to deal with him in these past posts, and I sent him a very toxic response (which is usually what I do when someone makes me super annoyed and angry).

Me: OF COURSE, I REMEMBER YOU! I HAD TO DEAL WITH YOU AND YOUR STUPID “OoOoOoOoOoO SpOoKy” SHENANIGANS. CAN YOU PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE ALREADY?!

That was too much, I know, as he basically just asked if I remembered him. However, if you were reading my original posts about this freak, you would understand why I hate this guy by now.

Burnt Luigi: I AM NINTEN–

Me: Don’t. Start. It.

Burnt Luigi: Why shouldn’t I? You banned me from the Mario Amino.

Me: No, I didn’t lol.

Me: I am not even a leader or curator there.

I am sorry for not bringing this up in my second post. Judging by the fact that a former curator, TakeAsoda, deleted the chat and I blocked Luigi, I didn’t have the chance to see if he was banned from the community or not. But when I asked a higher-up in the Amino, they informed me that yes, they did ban Luigi from the Amino, so there you go.

After I said that I am not a leader or curator, he started saying random gibberish, and of course, I started responding with annoying sentences used by other users.

Burnt Luigi: The earth is flat.

Me: Who asked?

Burnt Luigi: Donald Trump is actually the 45th president.

Me: Okay, but who aksed?

Me: asked*

Burnt Luigi: I am Nintendo.

Burnt Luigi: Your death in real life will be by being burned alive.

Me: ...

This guy was definitely trying to scare me by giving me those old-fashioned death threats and, of course, using that ridiculous “I AM NINTENDO” catchphrase of his.

Burnt Luigi: I HATE YOU!

Me: Very original.

Me: To be honest.

Me: I am becoming less and less scared of you by the moment.

Clearly, I lied when I said I was becoming less and less scared of him, as he later sent me my home address. Obviously, I am going to censor it for my safety.

Burnt Luigi: You live at [*********].

Me: ._.

Like anyone with sense would, I reported the user for exposing private identifying information. Luckily, Discord took action and dealt with the user.

Post #3 (Epilogue):

Hello again. I know I said hello twice, but after that one Discord incident, I've been having recurring nightmares, and I remember them all very clearly. Some of them were unrelated, but half had something to do with that copy of Super Mario 64.

Something inside me really wants me to sit down, shut up, record, and play the game. Please trust me; I don’t know what’s in that game, and I don’t know what it wants from me.

I will share my nightmares with you.

Please forgive how short the paragraphs are; there isn’t much to explain here.

I had one nightmare where I was doing my nightly walks, and there was a moment in the dream where I felt like I was being followed.

I kept walking until I felt it.

It was a gloved hand, and the fingers touching my shoulder felt bony. I couldn’t even feel the nails, so I immediately stopped and turned around. I was going to tell this freak to stop following me and get a life.

“HEY YOU—”

I stopped when I looked at him; he looked like Luigi, or at least a man who looked very similar to him.

The man said, “You've got to help me.” I seemed confused and looked behind him, noticing a house on fire. I immediately took action and called the ambulance. They arrived quickly, but all of the people in the vehicle looked like Luigi; everybody looked like Luigi. I rubbed my eyes, and they turned out to be normal people.

“Is everything alright?” they asked me, and I said, “Yeah.”

As I was going to explain the burning house and the identical Luigi fellow, I noticed a dragon-like creature in the far distance; it was revealed to be Bowser. You knew what to expect by now: screams were heard, and the town was burning to a crisp.

I woke up in a sweat, hoping to get a nicer dream. I slept again, and once again, another dream.

I woke up in a claustrophobic tunnel; the walls had the same texture as the ones seen in the basement of Peach’s Castle. It was extremely dark down there, so dark that I felt very paranoid as I imagined some unsettling face appearing out of the darkness and staring at me.

With each step I made, I heard the footstep audio from Super Mario 64 (duh, what did I expect) coming from behind me.

I got even more paranoid with each step until I couldn’t control it anymore.

I made the big mistake of turning my head to see Luigi’s burnt and charred body; he wasn’t in his N64 model, but instead, he looked more like he was made in CGI. I saw every unsettling detail of his corpse: his rolled eyeballs, the burnt eyelids, horrific teeth, and holes in his clothes, such as in the torso and gloves, revealing bone.

It made me uneasy.

Obviously, I kept walking, staring behind me, which stopped him from following me. I was afraid of turning my back.

Once again, I risked my life. Even though this was a dream, I started running and running until the tunnel became wider. The footsteps behind me got louder and louder. I looked behind me and saw Luigi trying to catch up to me until I looked around me again.

What I saw was a hallway full of Luigis standing, making me afraid to touch the wall, even though that seemed gross. It got even grosser as I started smelling the stinky breath of the plumbers, which is typically what you expect from rotting corpses.

They all started chanting.

“CONTINUE PLAYING THE GAME!”

“CONTINUE PLAYING THE GAME!”

“CONTINUE PLAYING THE GAME!”

I started to cover my ears, still running and yelling “Stop...” over and over again, until they all went away, along with the one chasing me.

My fear soon went away until I entered the courtyard, where I saw the Power Star fountain in the middle.

Feeling calmer than before, I looked into the fountain, and what was originally fear turned into sadness. I saw Luigi, the real one, stuck at the bottom of the fountain; he was being held by tentacles or vines.

His face was incredibly pale, and I noticed blood coming out of his jaw. Clearly, he was trying to live on those air bubbles that allow you to breathe longer underwater (if you’ve never played Super Mario 64 in your entire life).

I noticed that he was reaching out his hand to me, which made me assume he was trying to get help from me. I rolled up my sleeve and grabbed his hand.

I was mumbling, “Come on, you can do it, buddy.” Luigi immediately tried to grab my hand with as much strength as he could. I started to hold my grip to prevent myself from letting him go, with my anger boiling, knowing for a fact that his burned counterpart was responsible for this.

There is no way this was an accident, and there is no way Luigi would just casually fall into the fountain and be held by vines. Plus, he would use his strength to get out.

This was not the case.

Thankfully, we were both making progress. As I saw his face peeking out of the water, he was gasping for air. I successfully pulled him out of the water as Luigi’s color started returning.

“Luigi, please, are you okay?!”

Luigi then replied while coughing up some bloodied water, “Joseph, please finish this game. Save the Mushroom Kingdom for me and my friends.”

Luigi spoke once more: “Wake up; there is still time. Stop him from ruining my reputation further.”

I woke up, and I will finish this game in my next post. I will do it for my safety and his safety and figure out how to end that monster once and for all.

[saeyoungs-angel]

Hey lovely, if you don’t have too many asks id like to request shota or denki with a partner that struggles with depression, mainly with taking care of them selves in this. like hygiene, getting out of bed or doing anything really. denki or shota help them do little things that. i think you know what i mean so just write it how ever you want or don’t, if you are uncomfortable with this.

⨳​ punctilious — mha

starring. aizawa & you

plot. you may think you’re slick, but your boyfriend pays attention to everything. this includes the lack of care that you’ve shown yourself, recently.

genre. comfort, fluff

cw. mentions of depressive episodes and depressive behaviors

notes. god i am so sorry it took me so long to get to this, my writers block is so fuckin bad rn but i managed to finish it! i hope u see this since i cant tag u and idk if ur following me but if u do then i hope u enjoy it:)

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! <3

𓆩☆𓆪

“(y/n), this is the fourth day in a row that you’ve slept in so late.”

you grumble in your half-asleep state, swiftly snatching the blanket he had so rudely stolen from over you. you tuck it back underneath your weary arms and roll away from aizawa.

huffing, you reply in a slurry manner. “tired, shota. didn’t get enough sleep.”

he hums, tilting above you to reach your furrowed eyebrows—he softly thumbs the crease forming in between them.

“stop that, you’ll look old.” he chides, feeling a bit hopeless with your attitude. he knows very well that your sleeping pattern has been through the ringer this past week, and he also knows he can’t force you to fix it.

that said, he still stubbornly wants to try.

“hey, sweetheart. if you get up now, we’ll go to a cat cafe. how’s that sound?”

your eyes fly open, only to dim moments after.

“not feelin’ it today, sorry sho.”

now, aizawa isn’t surprised by much, but this? this has him reeling on the inside. you never turn down an invite to a cafe, let alone one filled with cats.

something is amiss, definitely. though he’d like to speak with you about it directly, he’s worried that you’ll close yourself off even more—it’s not like you never confide in him, but you’re obviously keeping something from him.

he decides to let you rest, offering him enough time to consider his options.

when the sun begins to set, aizawa grows concerned. why are you sleeping so late now? with only solicitous thoughts of you clouding his mind, he shuffles quickly towards your shared bedroom.

creaking the door open, he finds the lights still untouched. “sweetheart?”

his eyes adjust, tracing the outline of your face that’s illuminated by your phone light—which isn’t very bright, probably because you’ve been in the dark all day long.

“hm? oh, sorry. i got stuck on social media.” you end your excuse with a light laugh, not even inching to shut of the device while your eyes lay on him.

he shakes his head and dismisses your words, moving to seat himself on the edge of the bed closest to you. he grasps your hand in his, smiling at you in concern.

“you haven’t been out of the room today, you know? it’s eight o’clock already.”

his voice brings silence with it, you averting your eyes as you can sense what’s ahead of you. scrolling on your phone, you distract yourself unsuccessfully.

“is there something you want to tell me?”

your scrolling pauses for a brief moment, just before you regain yourself and continue. your heart is by your feet and you have no idea where you should take the conversation now.

“i’m—i, uh. fuck, sho. i’m having trouble, alright? that’s all, and i’ll be okay in time. don’t worry about me, please.”

the last sentence drops from your lips and aizawa worries more than ever—those words always come from someone that needs to be worried about.

“quit it. i’m here to help you, not scold you or something. i’m your boyfriend, (y/n), not your mother. i can’t do anything if you refuse my help, but i’m asking you to let me help you.”

your scrolling doesn’t pause this time, it ceases completely. you shut off your phone, the room dimming before you reach for the lamp and switch it on. your vision is a bit blurry and you’re trembling ever-so-slightly, but you respond.

“okay.” with a shaky voice, you nod your head in extra confirmation.

aizawa’s lips turn upwards just lightly, “then it’s a deal. just one more thing, though. i need you to work with me, you have to try, alright? i’ll be here with you for every step, but i need you here as well.”

that’s how it started, you and aizawa both working to turn your episode upside down. two is better than one, right?

“hey, time to get up. i gave you an extra hour, so i expect a kiss after you shower and brush your teeth.”

you sneer, hating the fact that he knows you would’ve preferred to stay in bed and skip those things.

“why not now?” your tone is playful, yet he answers you honestly.

“because it’ll also be a reward for you, sweetheart. now get up, we’re going for coffee.”

the moment the toothpaste reaches your mouth, you gag lightly. after some time without tasting it, the feeling it leaves on your tongue is unfamiliar—aizawa is immediately by your side, brushing his teeth with you.

staring at him through the wide mirror, you smile to yourself. having someone next to you doing the exact same thing effortlessly may not be super comforting, but as he smiles back towards you the world seems just a bit brighter.

he snags your attention through the reflective surface, pointing from you to himself. your eyes leer on him as he counts on his fingers to a certain number, then switches his toothbrush to the other side. he wants you to repeat it, that much you can tell.

as you follow his actions, you turn it into a tiny game for yourself. thirty seconds, done. thirty seconds, done. thirty seconds, done. thirty seconds, aaand completely done.

“that wasn’t so hard, right angel?” he smiles down at you as you flip him off sarcastically.

“actually, it’s easier than i remember it. that might be because you’re here, though.”

critical hit, 98 damage dealt to shota aizawa!

𓆩☆𓆪

feedback is extremely meaningful!

[chippedaxe]

yessss for karl?! omg yess please pleas please can you write a dom step sis! reader ruining innocent stepbro! karl!!

like she teases him and he just isn’t experienced at all and she just fucking destroys him, wanking him until the sensitive little bunny is crying and begging to stop from overstimulation

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Title: Silly Boy

Warnings: !TW: STEPCEST!, NSFW (Minors DNI), cursing, corruption ig, blackmail, degrading, teasing, humiliation, penis degrading, small penis, overstimulation

Pronouns: She/her Afab

Synopsis: The reader dominates Karl and knocks him down a peg.

Word count: 2k

Note: If this type of content offends you in any way then please just ignore it, I have tons of other content on my page that isn't stepcest content and you're able to blockout any stepcest content by blocking the 'tw sepcest' or 'stepcest cw' tag <3

- This prolly isn't what u wanted but I thought of this and wanted to write it! also this hasn't been proofread and it hasn't been edited at all!

*Btw Veruca Salt is a spoiled kid that gets everything she wants, from Charlie and the chocolate factory.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Your eyes glared down at the younger boy, towering over him to show dominance "S-sis, what're you doing?" Karl asked "Trying to scare you, is it working?" you leaned down and kept eye contact with the stammering boy "u-um not really.." he stuttered out "then why're you stuttering over your words? You're obviously intimidated." you placed your hands on your hips.

"Well why're you trying to intimidate me? I'm just trying to read this book!" he groaned "Because someone has to knock you down a peg, you think just because you're younger that you can get everything you want? Well not if I can help it!" you were furious by the boy.

"What're you on about? What've I done to you?" Karl asked worriedly "You've been asking for a whole lot this week, veruca salt!" you threw your arms in the air and started pacing around him and his chair "What? Like what?" Karl was utterly confused "You've been asking for non-stop rides to your friends houses, and you've been leaving your laundry around for mother to do!" you cross your arms.

"You're overreacting!" Karl complained "Oh I'm not done! You've also been taking money from mom's purse!" you called him out "What- how did you know about that??" Karl immediately became tense "Oh you look so stressed dear brother, just relax- don't worry... I'm not gonna tell her-" Karl sighed in relief "Oh thank god" and got cut off by you finishing your sentence "-If you promise to be a good brother and listen to what your stepsister says!" you finished.

"WHAT? No way! I'm telling mom and dad!" He began to stand up but you pushed him back down "Oh no no no, you're gonna tell them what? That you stole the $200 that mom presumed was stolen by a thief? You gonna explain that to her after she already called authorities and had someone sent to jail?" you spat venom at him.

"You're evil!" Karl shouted "Me? Evil? I'm not the thief here" you grinned mischievously "Although I could be- if you don't wanna have to do everything I say then just give me something precious you own" you held your hand out expectantly "What am I supposed to give you? My soul?" Karl questioned "If you can bare to part with it then yes" you gave a mean smile in response to his sarcasm.

"I have literally nothing!" Karl exclaimed "You have your phone" you suggested "Dad would kill me if he found out I'd given it away!" He shouted "he'd kill you if he found out about that money too" you reminded him "I- I could give you... I'll let you date one of my friends!" Karl smiled nervously as he hoped you'd agree "What friends? You're a nerd, no one would want to be friends with you" snickered.

"S-Sapnap! He's strong, he loves animals, he has big muscles!" Karl said "The brute with dark hair? He's cute but not my type" you yawned "U-m.. Quackity?" a bead of sweat dropped down his face "He's super cool, really funny!" Karl was starting to worry as he was already running out of friends to pair you with "No.. My type is nerdy boys that I can dominate, ones that get nervous a lot and stutter over their sentences" you hinted.

"Oh- like Wilbur? I'm not really his friend but I can try something!!" Karl wasn't getting the hint "No, I was thinking more specifically towards someone like you." you finally told him "M-me? But I'm your brother!" Karl was in disbelief "Step-brother. And I don't really like you, I just think that you're pitiful and if you're gonna be selling someone's body to me in exchange to keep your secrets safe than it may as well be yours." you explained.

"But- Well- I've never done that before!" he put his hands up defensively "Well obviously, who would want to touch a greasy nerd like you?" you sighed. "Well- No, that's wrong!" he shook his head "Well I'm not gonna make you, just give me something else then and I'll be on my way" you told him. Karl looked down at his feet for a moment as he mulled over what was happening and what decision he was gonna make.

Karl lifted his head and made eye contact with you "Okay." he replied "Okay what? Okay you're gonna give me something?" you asked "No- I mean- okay I'm gonna give you my body" he mumbled quietly "Gonna need to speak up, can't hear you over the sound of our parents crying over having such a disappointing child" you ridiculed him.

"I'll give you my body, damnit!" he yelled "hey- quiet down, our parents are only just down stairs!" you made him shut up. "Whatever" he leaned back in his chair and slumped down "Karl. You need to give me your full consent, you can't just go 'yea whatever' and expect me to be fine with that!" you furrowed your eyebrows "Why?? What- do you need me to beg you for it?!" he was getting aggravated.

"Actually yes, I do" you decided to torment him a little bit "Big sis, please please please fuck this desperate loser" he put his hands together to make a praying gesture as he mocked you "That's more like it, runt." you grabbed his chin and forced him to face you "We can stop at any time, if you choose not to speak up then that'll be your fault" you made sure he was fully aware that he had a say even though he wasn't in control.

"Thanks. Now- how do we?" Karl was now confused on what you were gonna do, and he was having some type of delusion that he was gonna be the one in charge dominating you. "I think I'm just gonna have some fun by jerking you off, is that okay bunny?" you teased "W-what do you mean you're gonna jerk me off?" Karl asked nervously "I'm gonna stroke your dick, never done that before?" you bullied him.

"N-no, never even thought about it.." his face became red and flushed, you slowly slid onto his lap and straddled his leg "No? You haven't? Are you lying to your big sister? That's not very nice you know, Mom always told me that you shouldn't lie (Unless it's to your dad) " Karl glanced away from you and tried to hide his face "Aw you can tell me the truth, I'm a good listener after all!" you encouraged him "I haven't.." he persisted.

"Well then let me introduce you to the pleasure that is being jerked off, slide your pants down" you instructed "What? Do I have to.." he was clearly embarrassed "No. I guess I could just palm you through your pants" you shrugged. Karl sighed in relief and let out a small breath, tilting his head back in the chair and waiting for you to do what you wanted.

Your hand dipped between his legs, your palm rubbing his growing bulge "H-Hey that feels weird" he told you "So what? You want me to stop?" he shut his mouth, encouraging you to keep palming him. "This would feel a lot better if you let your cock free, instead your trapping it in your tight pants and strangling it.." you frowned "F-fine.." Karl blushed as he slowly pulled his pants down.

You watched in delight as he released his penis "Oh is this what you were worried about?" you stared down at it "O-Oh god-" Karl felt humiliated and went to put it away but you stopped him "It's cute.. I wouldn't expect a nerd's penis to be big anyways" you told him. Karl's little cock twitched at your words, moving slightly on its own "oh. my. god. You LIKE when I'm mean to you! That's why you never argue back! It all makes sense now.." Karl looked down to avert eye contact.

"That's perfect Karl, you love when I'm mean to you- and I love to make fun of you! Win Win!" you felt a small rush of excitement. Your hand wrapped around his cock which forced a choked out moan from him, his hands moving to cover his face "you're acting quite rude Karl. Look at your big sister when she's talking to you!" you ordered.

Karl slowly revealed his face, revealing how much pleasure he was having. "F-Feel's weird, let go!" he ushered you to let go of his penis, even though his body disagreed; his hips bucking up into your hand to help finish him off "Trust your big sister." you said as you continued to pump your hand around his cock. "Fuck! Fuck you!" Karl's whole body shuddered as he was having an orgasm, his penis twitching in your hand.

"Wow Karl, that was rude." you huffed and narrowed your eyes, your hand still lingering on his crotch "A-are you done now?" Karl panted as he was trying to catch his breath "Done? I've barely even started!" you laughed maniacally as you began to slowly stroke him again "Ah- no no no, that's too much!" Karl whined. "You want me to stop?" you asked him "Yes!" he exclaimed so you let go and pulled away "What?" Karl was confused and a bit upset "Hm? What is it?" you asked "You're just.. done?" he looked saddened.

"You told me to stop!" you explained "yeah but.. I didn't really mean it.." Karl's cheeks were dusted red "Well come back here then" you grabbed his hips and forced him back down onto his chair. Karl was already eager and bucking his hips up against you, your hand grabbed him again and started to jerk him off "Ah!- Ah-" Karl tried to keep quiet but couldn't help the escaped noises that came out.

You placed your free hand over his mouth to try and muffle his moans, his voice vibrating against your hand "You can never be quiet! Always have something to say, don't you?" you rolled your eyes at him. Karl clenched his eyes shut and tapped the chair repeatedly with his hand to let you know he was ready to cum again, you let him release his load yet again but you didn't remove your hand.

"A-Again?? I can only take so much.." Karl whimpered and whined "You're feeling this way already? But I've only just started!" You frowned "Well I guess I can give you a break now but there won't be any breaks later on when our parents go out to dinner." you stood up and got off him. "T-Thanks.." Karl huffed "For what?" you asked "Thanks for um- pleasuring me?" you scoffed and walked back to your room, ready to return at night time when you had Karl all to yourself.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

*guys lemme know if u want a part 2 bc I could certainly make one of the reader x karl at night time after their parents have left.

[rowansparrow]

The Light Between Oceans: Chapter Five

**This series is rated 18+, Minors do NOT interact or you will be blocked**

Summary: You and the rest of the rebels begin to settle in to the Mandalorian tribe.

Chapter Rating: Teen

Warnings: Mentions of character death, grief, some graphic description.

Ships: Rex x Female!Reader, Fives x Male!OC, Fives x Female!OC

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: Sorry this is a day late! Hopefully it was worth the wait. :) 

Regular updates come every Saturday.

Thank you very much to @djarrex and @witchklng for their various contributions to this work. I couldn’t have done it without either of you.

Sensitive content is tagged #Ro’s Protected Tag. Please block that tag if you are concerned about content.

Reblogs are so appreciated!

The meal in the great hall was simple, just bread and vegetable soup, but after the ordeal you’d been through, it tasted like the food of gods.  

You and Rex took turns eating, carefully swapping Calder between you and being cautious not to wake him as you both hungrily ate your fill.

“He’s got to be starving.” You fretted, looking down at the boy when Rex took his turn holding him.

“He’ll be alright for a bit longer, he’s still sleeping.” Rex replied. “Eat.”

“I guess it’s a blessing that loud noises don’t bother him.” You said over the chatter in the great hall. “I don’t think an ordinary baby could sleep through this.”

Rex hummed, nodding in agreement and taking another bite of his own stew, balancing Calder in his other arm.

You glanced further down the table, spotting Fives with Athena and Kiran. Fives had Kiran on his lap, and he was trying to spoon stew into his mouth while Kiran adamantly refused it. Athena just stared blankly down into her bowl, exhaustion coating her features. 

“Do you have Calder for a bit?” You asked Rex. 

The Captain nodded, glancing up at you as you stood, heading further down the table to check on Fives and Athena. 

“-to eat, buddy.” Fives coaxed. “Please, just a little bit.” 

“I don’t wanna.” Kiran mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m tired.” 

“I know, but you haven’t eaten all day.” Fives said quietly. “Just a little, for me?” 

“Do you want me to take him for a bit?” You offered, putting a hand on Fives’ shoulder. 

“You’ve got your hands full as it is.” Fives replied gruffly, shrugging you off. 

“So do you.” You replied. “Fives, let me help you.” 

“I don’t want your pity.” Fives finally turned to look at you, a familiar fire behind his eyes. You frowned, but retreated, giving Athena a sympathetic look that she didn’t return. She barely even acknowledged you.

When you and Rex finished eating, you trudged sleepily to the living quarters in the mines. There were several small rooms built into the mineshafts, each one holding a bed, a small nightstand, and a chest for personal effects. The one you and Rex had been placed in also had a small floating pram for Calder stationed next to the bed.

“That was kind of them.” Rex said of the pram, running his fingers over it absently while you shut the makeshift door behind you. The room was very small, cramped enough that you and Rex had to step around each other to move, but you were both too exhausted to care. It was safe, it was warm, and it wasn’t infested with Imperials.

“I grabbed some clothes for you, along with some baby clothes we’d saved for Calder.” Rex said, shrugging his pack off his shoulder and fumbling through it. “Though, he’s so small, I’m not sure anything will fit him, yet.”

As if on cue, there was a soft knock at the door. Rex paused, opening it cautiously. In the doorway stood another armored Mandalorian, though this one was considerably shorter than the others you’d seen.

“Hello,” a young girl’s modulated voice echoed through the helmet. It seemed big on her. “We gathered some supplies for you, for your infant. We hope it’ll do for now. Mother Kitsu sends her regards.” She offered Rex a large bag. Rex took it slowly, peeking inside. Cloth diapers, clothing, a bottle, and other things filled the bag to the brim.

Rex swallowed past the growing lump in his throat. “Thank you.”

The girl nodded once, and turned abruptly, wandering away back down into the catacombs of the living quarters.

Rex shut the door again, immediately getting one of the diapers and a little grey onesie out of the bag, motioning for Calder. You swapped him, instead going through the bag while Rex dressed his son for the first time. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as the baby started to fuss.

“Shh, it’s alright Calder.” Rex said aloud, and then corrected himself, pressing a finger to his lips in a shushing motion, and then signing “It’s okay, I love you.”

Calder only cried louder, and Rex finished dressing him quickly, passing him back to you. “He’s probably hungry.”

You nodded, taking him at once while Rex resumed pawing through the bag of supplies and his own pack, carefully unloading things into the chest at the foot of your bed. Calder quieted down once he began to eat, and you stroked his cheek gently, exhaustion creeping through your body as your wound from his birth began to ache all over again.

Rex paused where he was unpacking the two bags, holding up a small stuffed tooka with royal blue and purple patchwork. “Look at this.”

“Give it here.” You said as Calder finished eating. You adjusted your clothing, burping him and then cradling him gently in your arms, taking the tooka from Rex. “Look, Calder.” You cooed, holding the tooka where he could see it. “Look at what Daddy found for you.”

Calder blinked sleepily up at the tooka, one of his little hands grabbing onto its ear and squeezing tightly. Rex chuckled, looking at him over your shoulder.

“I love you.” Rex signed to him, then repeated the motion, this time bringing his hand to his forehead first. “Daddy loves you.”

You smiled, tilting your head up to kiss Rex, leaning back against him. “Do you want to hold him for a bit?”

“Of course.” Rex said immediately, already reaching for him. He paused for a moment, drawing his hands back and instead quickly taking his shirt off. “I read that skin-to-skin contact is better for a baby.” He said, eagerly reaching for Calder again. You carefully passed Calder over, and Rex immediately leaned back on the bed, letting Calder lay against his chest.

“That’s it.” Rex soothed, stroking his hands down Calder’s back. “That’s it, little one. I’ve got you.”

You smiled, shifting to the other side of the bed and propping yourself up on one arm, watching as Rex held Calder.

“Do you want to try signing to him?” Rex asked, tilting his head back to look at you.

“I don’t know any other than what you showed me this morning.”

“This one is Mama.” Rex brought his thumb to rest against his chin, his fingers splayed out in a five. “You can say ‘Mama loves you’ now.”

You hesitated, not wanting to make a mistake, but you cautiously scooted to where Calder could see you. You waited for his soft brown eyes to land on you, wide with curiosity, and you smiled.

“Mama loves you.” You signed, making sure to go slow so he could see each movement. He watched your fingers dance, smacking his little lips together before he turned his face into Rex’s chest, his tiny hands balling up into fists.

“I don’t think he liked it very much.” You said, lowering your hand.

“He’s just not used to anything yet. He’s learning.” Rex replied with a chuckle. “Calder. My sweet boy, can you look at Daddy?” Rex sat up, shifting his grip so Calder was in the crook of his arm, and he signed again. “Mama loves you. Daddy loves you.”

“We need to practice more.” You said, brushing your fingers over Calder’s head as he yawned.

“We will.” Rex promised, booping Calder’s nose with one finger. “Give him time. He’s still so little.”

“I know.” You said softly. “I’m just… I want him to be able to understand us.”

“He will. We just need to give him time.” Rex repeated, bringing Calder close and kissing his forehead, then both his chubby cheeks. “We’ll be alright.”

You smiled, tucking your head against Rex’s shoulder and watching your son on his chest.

“Yeah.” You whispered back. “We’ll be alright.”

~

Fives, Athena, and Kiran had all been assigned to one room, and the three of them trudged back to it after trying to eat. None of them could stomach much food, and Kiran kept nodding off over his bowl.

Now, Fives carried the child in his arms while Athena led the way down the hall, guiding them to their room.

“This is the one.” She mumbled, pushing the door open and stepping inside. There was a bed and a small rollaway cot in the center of the room, with the same small nightstand and chest that outfitted all the rooms in the living quarters.

“Must be pretty cramped if they’re bunking people together.” Athena commented. She glanced up at Fives. “Are you okay to stay here? I can ask -.”

“’s fine.” Fives muttered, scooting past her to put Kiran on the cot. The toddler didn’t stir, and Fives tucked him in gently, brushing his hair out of the child’s eyes for a moment before straightening back up. “You think they’ve got ‘freshers down here?”

“I heard them saying something about it being at the end of the hallway.” Athena replied. “I guess each hall has its own designated refresher block.”

Fives scrubbed his hands over his face, dragging his hands slowly down his cheeks. “I think I’m gonna shower.” He mumbled around his hands. “I’ve still got – kriff it all, I’ve got his blood under my fingernails.”

“I’ve got a change of clothes for you.” Athena offered. “The Mandalorians, they gave us some clothes.”

Fives thanked her quietly, taking the clothes and straightening back up. “You and Kiran okay here for a bit?”

She nodded, rubbing Kiran’s back as he slept. “Go.” She told him gently. “We’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Fives tapped his knuckles against the door for a moment, inhaling slowly before at last stepping out into the hallway.

The refreshers weren’t hard to find. Athena had been right, a shower block had been set up at the end of each row of rooms, and Fives found his way quickly into one of the stalls. The water ran cold for several minutes before finally becoming moderately lukewarm, but Fives barely cared. He stood under the spray, the cool water easing some of the burn from his still-injured leg. The bacta and salves the Mandalorians had given him acted quickly, and Fives moved only with a slight limp, cautious of putting weight on the injured leg.

He closed his eyes, letting the water roll down his face as he scrubbed at his skin, trying to erase any traces of Quill’s blood from his body. He scraped at the undersides of his fingernails, watching as swirls of copper dripped off him and vanished down the drain. Was it his blood? Was it Quill’s? He’d bled so much himself, it was difficult to tell.

The water shut off on its own, and Fives sighed softly. He should’ve known the water would be rationed in a place like this. He’d gotten complacent, spoiled by the unlimited water at Quill’s home on Dantooine. He missed the water.

He stood there for several minutes, until his skin was covered in gooseflesh and his body had begun to tremble from the cool bite of the mine’s air filtration system. He ran his shaking hands through his hair, his fingers catching on the tangles and knots at the ends where it was growing longer.

Reluctantly, Fives finally stepped out of the refresher, dressing and glancing at the mirror above the sinks.

His eyes looked sunken, rimmed in red. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, so a patchy beard was beginning to grow around his goatee. He sighed softly, running a hand down his face and looking back in the mirror.

Quill was standing right over his shoulder, blood dripping from his eyes and mouth.

“Darling.”

Fives gasped, whipping around only to find nothing there. He panted quietly, pressing against the counter and looking around the empty refresher. He swallowed roughly, dragging his hand over his eyes again and abruptly left the room, keeping his head down as he went back into the hallway.

When he made it back to his room, a Mandalorian was just closing the door.

“Oh, hello.” The Mandalorian bowed his head respectfully. “I was just dropping off some clothes for the rest of your family.”

“My family?” Fives echoed.

“Yes, your wife and son. We found some spare clothing, so I was just -.”

“She’s not my wife.” The venom in his voice shocked even Fives. “And he’s not my son.”

“Oh.” The Mandalorian replied quietly. “Forgive me, then. I’ve dropped some clothes off for you as well.” He bowed again, making a quick exit as Fives threw open the door.

“I’m going to sleep on the Cord.” He announced.

“What?” Athena asked, sitting up slightly from where she had laid back on the bed. “Why?”

“Because I’m not sharing a bed with you.” Fives spat.

“Keep your voice down, Kiran is asleep.” Athena hissed back, standing up and going over to him. “Fives, listen, I know you’ve been through a lot, we both have, but -.”

“Don’t start with me. You have no idea what it is I’m going through.” Fives whipped around to face her, jabbing his finger into her face and forcing her back against the wall, his face inches from her own. “I want nothing to do with you, do you understand? Nothing. Don’t you dare think you can worm your way in here now that Quill’s gone, you -.”

Athena slapped him.

Fives paused, rubbing his jaw as he turned to face Athena again. Tears had begun streaming down her cheeks, but her face held nothing but contempt.

“I lost him, too.”

“Mama?”

Both of them turned towards the cot, where Kiran was sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Fives pulled back first, giving Athena room to go to the child.

“I’m sleeping in the Cord.” Fives repeated.

Athena didn’t answer. Fives turned, slipping back out of the room without another word.

~

Gol’Chek didn’t know how long he’d been in the medical bay.

At some point, he’d been given food. He remembered that much. Someone had cleaned him, sponged him down and redressed him in clean clothes. Doctors had been prodding at his legs, trying to find viable nerve endings for prosthetics.

But now, everything was quiet. He could hear the soft groans of the other injured drifting through the air around him, but Gol’Chek himself was quiet. He folded his hands over his stomach, letting his eyes drift closed.

We have a bond.

He inhaled slowly, deeply, centering himself.

I can sense her.

He reached out through the Force, focusing only on Ju’Lah. He tried to sense her, tried to get any sort of indication of where she might be, or if she was even alive. The thought sent an icy cord of fear through him. Was she still alive?

No. No, Maul wouldn’t have killed her. Maul was searching for her because he wanted to take her. He wanted her alive.

Gol’Chek grunted softly, forced himself to relax again. Ju’Lah was out there somewhere. She was counting on him to find her.

He closed his eyes. Focused in.

When he reopened his eyes, he was no longer in the medical bay. Instead, he was back on Gyatta, in the middle of the jungle. He knew exactly where he was, knew this path by heart. He had walked it many times with Ju’Lah, back before the Separatists had razed their village and sent their warriors to slaughter the Garbak people.

“So, you really don’t remember anything from before?”

Gol’Chek whipped around. He knew that voice.

“It comes and goes. Most of it’s a blur.”

He saw himself come into view, walking the path alongside Ju’Lah. His double stopped, investigating a flower along the path.

 “What about this one, is this it?”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Ju’Lah replied, flashing him a smile. “The gol’chek flower only blooms at the summit of Ancient’s Pass. That’s why only the greatest warriors can get it.”

“I’m just testing you.” Gol’Chek chuckled, picking the flower anyway and handing it to Ju’Lah. She smiled, letting the bloom float in her hand for a moment before pushing it upwards, letting it drift towards the sky before gently floating it back down.

“Is that what they teach you the Attunement for?” Gol’Chek teased. “Magic tricks with flowers and rocks?”

“And healing. And hunting, and tracking, and anything else to do with the natural world.” Ju’Lah retorted, flicking her wrist so the blossom swung from the air and instead smacked Gol’Chek in the face.

He chuckled, swatting the flower away.

Gol’Chek knew this memory. It was one he revisited many times himself.

“I’m in her head.” He whispered aloud. “She’s reliving this memory.”

“So… what do you remember, then?”

“Come again?”

“You said ‘most’ of it is a blur.” Ju’Lah replied. “So, what do you remember?”

“There’s… a woman.”

“Oh?” She paused a few feet ahead of him, looking over her shoulder. “Who is she?”

“Someone important.” He said softly, looking at his hands, as if he could conjure a memory of holding her in his arms, feel the way her hands felt in his, something, anything to jog his memory. “But I can’t even remember her face. I just see… shapes.”

“Shapes?” Ju’Lah giggled, picking up two large rocks from the path and holding them against her chest. “Big round shapes?”

Gol’Chek tried to swat at her, but she laughed, dodging and rolling the rocks around on her chest again.

“That’s the last time I answer any of your questions.” He griped, brushing past her and continuing his walk. She laughed again, finally dropping the rocks and jogging to catch up with him.

Gol’Chek followed after them. “Ju’Lah!” He called, reaching for her even as she seemed to get further away. “Ju’Lah!”

“What was she like?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Are you just ignoring me because I made you mad?”

“No, I said I don’t remember.” He shook his head. “Let’s… talk about something else.”

“Okay, what else do you remember?” She peppered him with another question, jogging to catch up with his quickened pace.

“Something other than that, Lah’ika.”

“You remember your other language. The one your people spoke.”

He cocked an eyebrow up at her in confusion, and she shrugged. “You talk in your sleep sometimes.”

“So you sit outside my hut and listen to me when I sleep?” Gol’Chek asked, his eyebrow arching higher.

“No, back before you were really awake, when we were still taking care of you.” She elaborated. “You would talk in your sleep, but it was always words none of us could understand. And that word, the thing you just called me, Lah’ika. It’s a nickname.”

“Yeah, so?”

“We don’t do that with our names. You added that suffix yourself.” She said. “So it must’ve come from your mother tongue.”

Gol’Chek moved in front of them instead, trying to physically grab Ju’Lah, but the dreamlike figures walked right through him. “Ju’Lah! Wake up!” He shouted again. “It’s me, wake up!”

“Ad’ika.”

Ju’Lah cocked her head to the side, her ears twitching.

“It… it means little one. Or sometimes child, depending on the context.” He said. “So, when combined with a name, it’s a term of endearment. So Lah’ika is… Little Ju’Lah.” He mumbled.

She hummed. “I like it.” She scampered ahead again, checking out a tree. “So what would they call you, then, in your mother tongue?”

“Vod.” He answered immediately. “It’s what we called one another, my people.”

“What’s it mean?”

He was quiet for several moments, and she turned to face him again. “Gol’Chek? You okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, shaking himself out of his trance. “Brother. It means brother.”

She hummed again, her ears flattening and draping over her back. “And what do the little ones call the older ones, then?” She asked. “If I’m an ad’ika, then you would be…” She trailed off, waiting for him to fill in the blank.

“You would be my buirkan.” Gol’Chek replied. “My responsibility.”

Then, after a moment’s pause: “You are my buirkan, Lah’ika.”

She nodded to herself. “I like your language.” She said decidedly. “Will you teach me more of it?”

“If I can remember it, yes.”

Gol’Chek reached for Ju’Lah again, his hands passing right through her. “Lah’ika.” He tried instead. “Lah’ika, please, I need you to wake up. Remember me. I’m here. I’m here!”

Ju’Lah was blessedly quiet for a few moments after that, but Gol’Chek should’ve known better than to assume her curiosity would be sated, because barely a minute had passed before she asked another question.

“What would you call someone who is a parent?”

“Buir.”

“Can I call you that, then?”

“JU’LAH!”

His hands finally collided with the flesh of her arms, and Ju’Lah gasped finally seeing him for the first time.

“Buir?”

~

Tag List:  @wild-karrde @tsundere-cherry-girl @jesjestraverse @theroguesully @clonecyaree @salaminus @book-of-baba-fett @starwarsmeninhelmets @ladykatakuri @cosmic-persephone @djarrex @literallydontlook @bobafettuccini @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @a-c-lee @chromia7567 @embarrassedauthornerd @itsagrimm​ @seriowan​ @gotomarvelgal​ @space-b33​ @moonstrider9904​ @frietiemeloen​ @writingbylee​ @witchklng​

[zachsreaderinserts]

sleepy boys inc x gn!teen! reader headcannons

trying something new! i like bbs and all, but i wanted to write for other youtubers! lemme know if yall wanna see more content like this lol.

this takes place in a minecraft au!!! also, mentions of bad parenting/abusive parents

wc: 2,319

okay the sleepy boys

chaos incarnated, all of them. you can’t deny it

so, when tommy invites a friend from a local village, at first, everyone else is skeptical. since when has tommy made a friend who didn’t hate him within 20 minutes from all the screaming and insults he spewed?

unlike his friends, phil is more excited than anything. though he isn’t tommy’s dad, he feels like it sometimes, so he really wants to meet this new person who has caught the youngest’s attention

techno is very much not on board. he has a hard time trusting people at first glance and having been friends with tommy for the longest, he knows that tommy readily jumps the gun and attempts to befriend literally anything just because he can

and wilbur? indifferent for the most part. yes, he feels the need to make sure tommy is protected and cared for, but he also recognizes that this situation is out of his hands. the best he can do is hope that their friend isn’t an absolute asshole

so, it’s saturday. all three men are sitting on the couch in phil’s cottage, talking amongst themselves as they wait for tommy to come back. techno makes a joke about murdering them, which leads to phil scolding him about his violent tendencies

“you haven’t even met them yet, techno, what the fuck.”

wilbur is simply adding fuel to the fire, making little remarks here and there and watching the whole thing escalate to phil lecturing the piglin hybrid.

because of this, not one of them had noticed that tommy returned, with his newest friend. they both stopped at the sight of phil in dad mode, tommy considering just turning around and taking his friend as far away as physically possible

too late, since techno’s sixth sense made him whip around and stare at the newcomer. this made phil stop lecturing and wilbur quit giggling long enough for tommy to introduce his friend

after saying their name, the friend lifted their hand shyly, face burning from slight embarrassment. their other hand was latched onto tommy’s, feeling intimidated.

can you blame them? the fucking blood god looks like they wanna skewer them and cook them over a campfire.

tommy took notice of their shyness and cleared his throat, “we were planning on going to the carnival in their village if you three assholes feel like tagging along.”

like there was any way they were gonna let tommy and his friend go out without chaperones.

tommy turned back to his friend, “give me a second, i’m gonna go grab my sword just in case.” and proceeded to run up the stairs and towards the guest bedroom in phil’s house that he claimed.

the millisecond he was out of earshot, techno grabbed his friend by the front of the shirt.

“what are your intentions with tommy?”

the friend blinked once, twice, then bit back a smile. “you’re asking that as if i’m about to date that motherfucker.”

this time, it was wilbur who bit back a grin of his own. who would’ve expected the originally shy kid to have replied like that????

techno’s brain short circuited and his grip on their shirt loosened slightly. did.... did this kid just brush off his question???

“can you put me down? you’re gonna stretch my shirt.”

techno’s brain blinked back into focus and he gripped the kid’s shirt harder, shoving them against the nearest wall. “i asked a question, kid.”

“you know, tommy told me something like this would happen. i’m glad i came prepared.” and then, tommy’s friend sucked in a deep breath. techno leaned back, expecting the worst...

“MWISTER TECHNWOBWADE, PWEASE PUT MWE DOWN BEFWORE I SCWEAM”

oh god, this was far worse than anything he thought of.

he dropped the teen out of disgust more than anything, reeling backwards. if there was one thing that haunted his dreams, it was uwu-speak.

phil started howling of laughter, clutching his stomach and hunching over. originally he was going to stop techno from threatening a literal child but this outcome was so much better than anything he was anticipating

wilbur was no better, already tearing up from how hard he was snickering. he started choking on his own spit at one point, smacking his arm against the couch.

tommy was so fucking confused when he came back down the stairs, seeing the mayhem that was, for once, not caused by him. he glanced at his friend, who had the world’s biggest shiteating grin.

yeah, they were gonna fit in just fine.

and they did! phil took them under his wing (both physically and metaphorically) and allowed them to come visit his home whenever they wished. and whenever they did, phil was the first to ask how they’ve been and what they were up to

to phil’s surprise, the kid was overall calm in their choice of activities. things like playing soccer or drawing or figuring out how to learn instruments in their free time. it seemed like they were desperate to get their hands on anything and everything just to learn

he found it funny, though, when their chaotic side shone through. they easily were on tommy’s level when they got into that headspace and it was so hilarious to him.

his favorite memory of the kid was when they walked into the house and marched right up to where techno was reading idly in the corner. planting their hands on their hips, they spoke.

“if you were to fuck a clone of yourself, would it be masturbation or would you be considered gay?”

phil, who was washing the dishes six feet away from them, just about crumbled into a ball on the floor from how hard he was laughing and sobbing.

of all questions, that was the one that came out.

but he had no idea that the chaos was a coping mechanism. he just thought they were naturally like that in their free time.

he soon found out the truth when they came home with tommy, who was cursing up a fit, visibly angry. his friend was slumped over, as if trying to hide themselves from the world

when phil asked what had happened, tommy exploded.

“their fucking dad took all their money from their savings! said he needed it more than them and when they asked for it back, he called them a fucking disappointment! that fucking bitch--”

phil can count very few times when he felt true anger and he can confirm that when tommy had told him what had gone down, he saw red.

but he knew better than to outwardly show it. judging by how hunched over and defeated the kid was, what they needed was a stable support system

so he walked over and shut tommy up with a hand on his shoulder, “why don’t we take the rest of the night to build up that game room you wanted in the basement. i’m sure if we knock it out before techno and wil are supposed to be back, we can all play something like monopoly.”

seeing where phil was headed, tommy nodded and brushed away his anger. he knew that what his friend needed was a serious cheering up. tommy ran towards his guest bedroom, claiming that he was going to find his blocks.

phil crouched in front of the teen, tilting their head up to look him in the eyes. “you’re not a disappointment. you’re an amazing person with a chaotic joke machine going 120 kilos over the speed limit in your head and you are talented. your dad doesn’t know shit about what you’re capable of doing.”

oh boy, the kid’s crying. those are tears, full on tears.

that night was one of the best nights of their life, however. they enjoyed the entire three hour long game of monopoly where they watched the light leave everyone’s eyes. it was funny when wilbur lunged across the table when he landed on a railroad, out for phil’s blood.

speaking of wilbur, he enjoyed every minute in the kid’s presence. they often asked creative and random questions and went along with the abstract jokes he made, the two of them laughing heartily the entire time.

when the kid first mentioned wanting to learn how to play the guitar, he practically burst through the wall of the room next door, breathing heavily and exaggeratedly.

“did someone say guitar”

yeah, he’s feral. that’s canon.

they proceeded to spend the entire day in phil’s garden, each of them equipped with a guitar. despite their outwardly smooth brain and stupid demeanor, the teen was a fast learner and could play the most basic chords by the time the sun was setting.

wilbur’s favorite moment was the first night they met, when they went to the carnival. there was the game where you shoot the water and fill up the balloons and the kid was going head to head against techno and tommy.

it was when techno won that the teen turned to techno with murder in their eyes and spoke in a deadpan tone of voice,

“you’re lucky you won this time, you gentrified mayo monkey.”

wilbur’s jaw dropped, as did techno and phil’s. tommy was already in hysterics, smacking his hand against the counter that held the guns.

needless to say, wilbur found his favorite, not-quite sibling in a heartbeat.

techno was the last to come around with the child. can you blame him? every time he tried to threaten them or had beaten them at something, they would respond in a cryptic threat--

“i’m going to pee your pants if you don’t let me win”

or just brushed him off. without a second thought.

“anyways, i was murdering a chicken the other day, and the fucker had the audacity to ribbit at me.”

to say he was confused was an understatement. he was terrified of the fact that a literal child held so much power and disinterest in things like their own life. so for the first few months, he avoided them.

but he had seen past that when it was around midnight on a weekday. tommy was hanging out with tubbo and ranboo in their village miles away from the area. wilbur was out drinking with schlatt, niki, and fundy, and phil was already asleep.

techno wasn’t too far behind, sitting in front of the fireplace and staring out of the window that showed the front yard. it was only then when he saw the flash of a familiar face and looked closer as the teen walked up to the house quietly. their head was down and they carried a small bag with them.

techno opened the front door with a long creak as they reached the porch steps. it was only when they jumped and looked up in surprise that techno had noticed a deep bruise on their left cheek in the moonlight.

despite the fact that he kept away from them, techno was very protective and territorial of tommy, phil, and wilbur. and since they were attached to the teen, he became protective of them as well.

so all the voices in his head went quiet for a second. before exploding into a mixture of screams and threats, all leading back to protecting the child in front of him.

without thinking, he reached forward and cupped their face for a better view of the bruise. at the warm and soft touch, tears slipped down the kid’s cheeks and they sniffed pathetically.

the voices quickly took a 180, all screaming to take care of them. make them feel better. so, techno led the kid inside and let them spend the night in his room, with them falling asleep on the bed and him falling asleep on the rocking chair in his room.

phil did not hesitate to officially declare himself as the teen’s official father, saying that their biological father was a “little bitch”

now somewhat living with the teen, techno found an appreciation for their quieter moments, when they were reading or simply daydreaming. it was cute, in his eyes. but he also grew to enjoy when they were absolutely feral, especially toward tommy.

his favorite moment with them was when they had gifted tommy a music disc for his birthday. it was sweet and sentimental and tommy just about burst into tears when he saw it.

all of the sappiness quickly vanished when tommy put it into a jukebox.

“FUCK THIS PUSSY, BOY, FUCK. FUCK IT RIGHT, BOY--”

tommy had let out the most terrified scream and it practically engrained itself into techno’s brain. it was the first time he ever laughed at something the teen had done and the teen felt proud of themselves.

and finally, tommy. he was already happy to call himself a friend of the teen’s. they were like peas in a pod, working together.

tommy came to them when his insecurity felt heavy and they came to him whenever their dad’s words got to them. they had a nice system of dependency on one another and neither of them would trade it for the world.

tommy’s favorite moment of being friends with them was during their first birthday living in phil’s house. it was a birthday befitting their personality, with brightly color streamers hung and confetti all over the floor. he knew that they enjoyed it severely and once the cake was cut, the kid turned to phil.

“phil, where’s the big tiddy strippers i requested?”

tommy was GONE

he all but choked on his slice of cake and walked away, shaking his head while trying to stifle his giggles. but when he heard phil’s scream of “WHAT”, he just lost it.

all in all, his friend had made a fine part of the sleepy boys. they were a happy face in an otherwise somewhat bleak and dangerous world. and all four men appreciated it.

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 23}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Nesta was torn.

Half of her thought that Cassian was overreacting, but the other half of her thought that his anger and frustration was perfectly justified.

What exactly were they getting into? And, was it what was best for Nyx? Yeah, the last month had been great, but if it didn’t work out, what would that mean for him? Would it be better if she and Cassian had simply remained two friends, co-parenting under one roof?

Nesta’s heart began to beat a little faster.

She felt like she was going into a panic attack.

Cassian and Nyx had been gone for an hour, and every second that passed became more and more unbearable.

She needed him to be there.

She needed to figure this out.

She just didn’t know what the answer was.

Alis had gotten into her head, there was no doubt about that. A little over an hour ago, she was living in a dream, then Alis came in, out of nowhere, and brought her back to reality.

She was sitting on the couch, almost exactly where he’d left her, when he finally returned. He was covered in sweat, his t-shirt sticking to him. Nyx was having a conversation with him, more to himself though, since it didn’t seem like Cassian was even close to paying attention to him. But his eyes went directly to Nesta as soon as he walked in.

She’d changed. She no longer wore his t-shirt, instead in a loose shirt of her own and a pair of jeans, and her hair was loose and wet around her face. As if she’d need to shower their night together, shower him off of her. Not a shred of that beautiful skin was showing, not like she’d been doing lately. Leggings and shorts and tank tops. She’d been comfortable around him.

With a scoff, Cassian set Nyx down on the floor. He headed for the stairs, but Nesta stood, nearly toppling the cup of coffee she’d been clutching over as she set it on the coffee table. “Cassian, we need to talk about this.”

He paused, waving a hand towards her. “What for? It looks like you’ve already made your decision.”

“I need you to calm down,” she said, steadily. “I need you to think logically.”

Cassian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I need you to tell me.”

Nesta hesitated. “Tell you what?”

“If this is something you want to pursue or if I just wasted the last couple months falling in love with you,” he finished.

His voice may have lacked emotion, but Nesta felt every word like a stab in the chest. Falling in love with you. Those were the words she was going to tell him today, under much different circumstances.

Now, she didn’t know what to think.

Now, she was overwhelmed.

Now, all of her thoughts were rushing toward the same spot in the middle of her skull at a thousand miles an hour, and when they got there, her head would explode.

“It’s not that easy,” she said, and her voice cracked.

“But it should be,” Cassian said. “If you feel the way that I do, it should be that easy.”

“We have to think of Nyx,” she breathed.

“I am thinking of Nyx,” he said, struggling to keep his voice low. At the sound of his name, the baby turned to look at him. “I want him to grow up in a happy home, seeing two people who love each other, and damn it if that isn’t how it’s been for the past few weeks.”

“It’s not that simple,” Nesta said, shaking her head. “What happens if we break up? What happens if we get in a fight or something happens to one of us? What then?”

He had strode down the stairs and was in front of her before he could stop himself. He framed her face in his hands, like he had so many times the past month, to kiss her, to make love to her, to show her how he cared for her. “Why are you worrying about the what if’s? Why are you worrying about what could go wrong, rather than how right everything has been?”

Because everything goes wrong eventually. The only reason we’re together is because we were shoved into this house after the worst thing imaginable happened. They died. We took over. What right do we have to be happy?

The words flooded her mind, but stilled on her tongue.

Nesta didn’t push him away. She wanted to reach up on her toes and kiss him, softly, but she didn’t.

Instead, she met his gaze. “Cass,” she breathed.

The pain in his eyes nearly shattered her heart into a million pieces.

Nyx had walked up to them and was hugging Nesta’s leg, as if he knew that she needed the comfort.

“Dont say my name like that,” he whispered.

Nesta slowly shook her head. “I just think this has all happened too quickly. We haven’t been thinking, we’ve just been acting-.”

“You’re pushing me away,” Cassian interrupted, swallowing harshly. “Damn it, Nesta.”

“You don’t understand,” she pleaded.

“Because you’re not making sense,” he argued. “Things have been perfect—”

“They’re dead!” She cried, pulling from his grip, scooping Nyx up. “Things have been far from perfect. We’re only like this now because Rhys and Feyre are dead.”

The words seemed to freeze something inside of Cassian and he stepped back as well. “So what? We go back to how we used to be? I’m back in the guest room and we awkwardly exchange good mornings over breakfast?”

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the sight of him, the scent of him, everything. “I don’t know, Cassian, I don’t—.” She took a shuddering breath, her arms wrapping tighter around Nyx. “I just need some time to think, to breathe…”

When she looked back up at him, his jaw was set and he was slowly nodding. “Fine. Take your time.”

And then he was moving, back up the stairs before Nesta could even ask what he was doing.

A few minutes later, he was back with a duffle bag in his hands.

“Wh—what are you doing?”

“Giving you space,” he said, refusing to meet her gaze.

Nesta opened her mouth but nothing came out. She was frozen where she stood, her feet stuck to the floor, her mouth hanging open, that panic rising from the pit of her stomach into her heart, which was beating far too quickly.

Cassian kissed Nyx on the forehead as he passed, but paid Nesta no mind as he went for the door.

“Cassian!” She called, at last.

Cassian stopped just in front of the door, keeping his back to her, one hand on the doorknob.

“You're just going to leave?” She asked, quietly, bouncing a sleepy Nyx on her hip. “Just like that?”

Cassian didn’t turn around. “Are you going to ask me to stay?”

Yes. No. I don’t know. Nesta said nothing.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he grumbled, exhaustion lacing his tone. “Maybe I need time to think, too.”

He opened the door and shut it softly behind him.

*

He didn’t know where else to go. He didn’t have anywhere else to go.

He knew where he wanted to be, but right now…

He couldn’t look at her.

It didn’t escape him that when he’d told her he’d fallen in love with her, she didn’t say it back. He couldn’t even act like he hadn’t seen her eyes flare in panic. So he couldn’t stay there. Couldn’t go back to sleeping in that guest room, not when he’d become so used to sleeping with her in his arms every night.

So Cassian had ended up here, knocking on his brother’s door, thankful that his car had been parked in the driveway when he pulled up.

He needed a drink. He needed someone to tell him he was being an asshole. He needed someone to listen while he vented and bitched. He knew Azriel would do all that for him.

When he answered the door, Seph was in his arms, pulling on his bottom lip. She smiled when she saw Cassian, but Azriel’s surprised smile quickly faded.

“Do I want to know?” He asked, looking at the duffel bag tossed over Cassian’s shoulder.

Cassian sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

Azriel stared at him for a second before stepping aside and letting Cassian pass.

“Are we talking about this now or later?” Azriel asked, shutting the door behind them.

“Beer?” Cassian asked, dropping his bag beside the couch.

“Fridge,” Azriel said, slowly, watching him.

Cassian made his way to the kitchen and threw open the refrigerator door, grabbing a cold bottle and chugging its contents.

Azriel followed, leaning against the countertop and Seph continued to play with his lips.

“Where’s Elain?” Cassian asked, tossing the empty bottle into the trash and getting another.

“Work,” Azriel said, sighing. “So, if this involves smack talking Nesta, you may want to get it out now.”

He shook his head. He didn’t want to do that, barely wanted to think about her. But he owed Azriel at least some explanation.

“The social worker stopped by this morning,” he sighed, leaning back against the counter and opening the beer. “And honestly, yeah, it was unexpected, but I figured it’d be fine. Last time, Nes was drunk off her ass, but we— I figured, since we were more of a family this time, things would be great.”

Azriel blinked. “They’re not taking Nyx, are they?”

Another shake of his head. “No, gods, no. They— She could tell he was in good hands, but she immediately picked up on Nesta and I. What we’ve…become.”

It seemed, just like Cassian, Azriel didn’t see it as a problem. He wasn’t following. “And?”

“And Nyx was hungry so I left the social worker and Nesta alone to get him breakfast. I came back and she’s gone and Nesta is second-guessing our relationship. She asked if I’m just fucking her out of convenience.”

The thought made him sick to his stomach, almost as badly as it hurt his heart.

“And you replied with…” Azriel began, trailing off, waiting for Cassian to finish the sentence.

“I went for a jog,” Cassian said, shrugging.

“So you ran away?” Azriel pushed.

Cassian shot him a look. “No. I went for a jog.”

Azriel sighed. “And when you came back?”

“She said she needed space,” Cassian said, emptying his bottle.

Azriel set Seph on the floor with a plastic spatula, which she instantly start banging on the cabinets. “And that’s when you ran away?”

“I didn’t run,” Cassian snapped. “I gave her what she wanted. I gave her space.”

Azriel slowly shook his head. “Did you even try to talk things out?”

“Yes,” Cassian said, the word clipped. “Told her I was falling in love with her, and guess how she replied?”

Azriel watched his brother.

“Didn’t say a fucking word,” Cassian finished.

When Azriel didn’t speak, he walked back to the trash can, dropping the bottle inside.

“Quit looking at me like I’m the bad guy here,” he said, unable to turn around and look his brother in the eye. “She was ending it. She was calling things off and I’m supposed to, what? Just keep living there like we were before? Pretend nothing has changed?” He swallowed hard, willing the damn tears clouding his vision to fade. They wouldn’t. “She didn’t even ask me to stay.”

Azriel sighed, opening a cabinet beside the fridge that Seph couldn’t reach. He produced a bottle of whiskey and set it on the counter. “I can’t drink until Elain gets home. And I absolutely think you need to talk to Nesta, but I think you’re right. You need to stay here tonight. Give her space.”

Cassian blinked, and a tear that was holding on slid free, down his cheek. He angrily wiped it away. He felt ridiculous, but it had been a long time since he had told a woman that he loved her. He’d never said it in his adulthood. A couple times in his teens, before he knew what the word really meant, but never as an adult.

He’d said it.

He’d meant it.

And she hadn’t felt the same.

Cassian nodded and poured himself a glass of whiskey.

*

Nesta stared at Cassian’s contact on her phone screen.

She wanted to press the call button, but didn’t.

She did open a blank text a few times, but couldn’t type anything.

She didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to do.

She knew what she wanted.

She wanted Cassian.

But, she didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

She had never been one who was dependent on a man, had spent most of her twenties single and having no problem with it. But suddenly, she couldn’t imagine her day to day life without Cassian in it. And that terrified her.

She heard murmuring on the baby monitor sitting next to her on the side table and glanced over to see Nyx sitting up in his crib.

It had been nearly three hours since Cassian left, and aside from putting Nyx down for a nap, Nesta had barely moved. She still sat in the same spot on the couch she’d been in when the social worker had shown up and when she’d ignored that Cassian had said that he loved her.

The words should have filled her with joy and she should have screamed from the rooftops that she loved him, too. Instead she locked up and thought she was going to be sick.

What was wrong with her?

Wiping away the tears she didn’t even realize had fallen, Nesta hurried up the stairs, and into Nyx’s nursery. He reached for her the moment he saw her, his own big, blue eyes beginning to fill with tears.

“What’s wrong, bubba?” She cooed, resting his head against her shoulder.

After a deep sigh, he looked up at her and reached for a tear that had fallen down her cheek. His lip began to wobble.

“I’m okay,” Nesta promised, even though her voice cracked and those tears continued. “I’m okay, buddy, I promise.”

Nyx knew, though.

He knew something wasn’t right.

He knew Cassian was gone.

He knew Nesta was heartbroken.

Little did he know that her heartbreak was self-inflicted.

Nyx laid his head back on her shoulder and clung to her. He stayed like that as she walked back downstairs and sat back in her spot on the couch.

He held onto her, looking around the room. She knew he was looking for him and was about to tell him he wasn’t here when he spoke. The word wasn’t a mash up of noises like it had always been. No, it was a true and steady word. His first word.

“Dada?”

Nesta froze. She didn’t even know what to say. Should she tell him Cassian wasn’t his father? He probably wouldn’t even understand, just like he didn’t understand where Rhys and Feyre had gone.

But…for all intents and purposes, Cassian was his daddy now. And she was his mama.

So she pressed a kiss to his dark hair and whispered. “He had to leave, baby. He had to go for a little while.”

Nesta hoped and prayed that Cassian would walk back through that door, and yet, she couldn’t muster the courage to ask him to.

That night, instead of Cassian taking up the spot next to her, it was Nyx, who held her hand until they both fell asleep.

[ponderinqs]

Pushed Away || JJ Maybank

pairing: jj x reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of abuse, underage drinking, angst, gun usage, SLOW BURN!!!

word count: 3.3k

summary: you’re best friends with jj, but something happens one day, leaving you and the rest of the group confused and worried about him. what happened to him? did you do something to hurt him? or maybe, there’s something rather... emotional going on inside him. something he’s never felt for anyone before in his life.

a/n: here’s me apologizing for not posting this WAYYY sooner. listen,, i got huge writers block for a very long time, and i wasn’t feeling up to anything obx. but now that season 2 has come out, and the fact that i’m at the beach right now (approximately 2 hours away from where they film outer banks), i finally have some motivation to write. soooo yeahhhh. hope you enjoy LMFAOOO. also, read the other parts if u haven’t already!

unedited. please excuse any typos :)

comment if you want tagged !! :)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

—————————

It’s been about four days since your friends found out about your past. A week since you spoke to any of them.

When you came home that night after seeing Rafe, you and your mother got into a screaming fit over how she needs to stop trying to change you back to who you used to be.

“You don’t get to tell me who I am! I get to choose that!” You yelled, finger pointed at your mother.

“Excuse me?! I am your mother! I can do whatever I need to do to get you to stop turning into someone you’re not!” Now your mother was screaming at you, probably waking the neighbors.

“Life was better when dad was here! Now you’re just a pathetic excuse as a mother!!” You felt regretful for the words that left your mouth, but in the heat of the moment, it felt like the right thing to do.

You felt a hand come across your cheek. “You don’t get to talk to me like that, young lady!”

She left the house shortly after you two fought. Your mother has been gone for a few days, which left you holed up in your room, alone, letting the nasty thoughts fog your brain.

You groaned as you got out of your bed, trudging to the bathroom to see how awful you looked. Your hair was disheveled and you looked like absolute shit. “God…” You whispered, letting your fingers graze your cheek. You winced as you felt a slight sting from the movement. It was still sore, and even if there wasn’t much of a mark anymore, you could still see a slight red tint to it.

You finally decided it was time to leave the house. The sun was beginning to set, but you didn’t want to be holed up in your house for another day. After cleaning up and looking somewhat normal, you walked downstairs and went to open the door, but someone was at the door, just about to knock. It was Pope, looking frantic and scared.

“Y/N! Hi!” He pulled you into a quick hug. “You gotta come quick, there’s something wrong with JJ.” He looked at you, scanning your face for any response, when he saw the slightly reddened cheek mark.

“Who did that?” He spoke softly, his finger touching the mark lightly. “My mother.” You sighed. You didn’t feel like worrying everyone, but it was already happening.

“We can talk about this later, okay? But c'mon, we gotta go.” He nudged his head to his car as the both of you made your way over to the car.

“Is he okay? What’s wrong with him?” You spoke after a few minutes of pure silence while Pope drove. “I really don’t know. He went back home last night and something must’ve happened there. You’re like the only one that can get him to calm down.” He smiled at you as he pulled into the Chateau.

You both got out and walked towards the front, where JJ was seen pacing back and forth, Kiara and John B just watching him. They both saw you and stared, not saying a word.

JJ turned around and saw you, the two of you making eye contact. He stopped pacing, and you saw the sun shine through his beautiful hair, but you also noticed more cuts and bruises scattered around his pretty face.

You approached him with caution, looking into his ocean blue eyes the entire time. The two of you didn’t speak any words, but somehow you still calmed JJ down. You grabbed both of his arms as you looked at his face, examining each and every cut and bruise.

Instead of speaking, you hugged him. You wrapped your arms around his torso tightly, resting your head on his chest. He was hesitant at first, but he also wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his head in your neck.

You felt wetness on your skin, making you hug him even tighter. JJ let out a choked sob, still holding onto you as if you were the only thing keeping him from completely losing it. You stroked his back, your eyes watering as you listened to him cry into you.

“I can’t do it.” He mumbled into your neck in between sobs. Your heart broke for what felt like the hundredth time this week. And again, you couldn’t do anything to help him, which made you feel helpless. All you could do was stand here and hug your best friend, hoping something would make everything stop hurting.

JJ went limp in your arms as the two of you fell to the ground, JJ covering his face with his hands and he continued to cry. “JJ..” You whispered softly, grabbing him and holding him to your chest. You ran your hand through his hair a few times, trying to get him to calm down.

You looked around at the other Pogue members, signaling that they need to give you two a minute. They understood and nodded, walking into the Chateau and closing the door behind them.

After they were gone, you moved JJ away from you as you pulled his hands away from his face. Your foreheads rested against each other’s, the two of you not daring to break eye contact.

His eyes were red and puffy, tears still streaming down his face. He looked at you with his sad eyes as you felt raindrops beginning to fall on the top of your head.

Soon it was beginning to rain even harder, but the two of you just sat outside, staring at each other and not speaking a word. “I can’t deal with him anymore..” JJ’s voice cracked at the end, letting out another choked sob.

You cupped his face with your hands, kissing his forehead lightly. As you pulled his face away, he noticed the faint cheek mark on your face. “Who.. who did that?” He said quietly, his hand coming up to touch it.

Shivers went down your spine as you felt his touch, along with a slight sting. “Shit.” You hissed, looking down at the ground.

“It was your mother, wasn’t it?” He moved his dripping wet hair out of his face, looking into your eyes.

You nodded slowly right as a bolt of lightning cracked in the air. Thunder boomed through the atmosphere within seconds, and the two of you shared the same look. “Let’s go inside, okay?” You grabbed his hand and helped him stand as the two of you went inside.

The three friends looked up at the sound of the door closing, seeing the both of you drenched with your hands still intertwined.

You squeezed his hand, leading him to the extra bedroom. You watched the fragile boy lie down on the bed, turning his back to you.

You turned around and went back out to the rest of your friends. “Um, we’re gonna stay here tonight.” You shuffled your feet.

“Everyone is staying here. The hurricane is coming through right now.” John B sat on one of the couches, finally looking up at you.

You nodded. “He’s gonna be okay, Y/N. Just give him time.” Kiara looked up at you, giving you a slight smile.

You sighed and made your way to the bathroom and grabbed a few towels before you returned to the extra room, seeing JJ in the same position that he was in when you left him.

“Hey, I got some towels so we can dry off.” You got onto the bed and set the towels in front of you. JJ turned around and sat up, grabbing a towel and drying off his hair.

“Do you have extra clothes here?” You asked, and JJ just simply nodded, pointing to the worn down dresser across from the bed. You stood up and walked over, opening it and finding some random clothes for you and JJ.

You tossed JJ a random marina shirt, and a pair of shorts. You found a blue shirt and some sweats, and put them onto the bed. “Well, close your eyes.” You grinned at him, and JJ smirked before covering his eyes with his hand.

You stripped from your wet shirt and tossed it to the corner of the room, making a note to wash it tomorrow. When you looked at JJ, he was peeking out of his hand. “Maybank!!” You giggled as you hurriedly put the shirt on.

“Well, I like the view.” He commented, making the heat rise up to your cheeks. You shook your head and pulled off the drenched pants you had on, rushing to put on the sweatpants.

“Keep em off.” He smirked, his hands now completely away from his eyes. “Oh, shut up.” You finished changing and got into bed, JJ now getting up and changing. “Do I need to close my eyes?” You spoke as if you were a little child.

“That’s up to you.” He smirked again. You decided not to as you watched him slowly peel his wet shirt off of his body.

Without realizing it, you were biting your lip and staring at his defined torso. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” JJ laughed, pulling the dry shirt onto him and then taking off his drenched shorts.

Seeing JJ in his boxers was something you never thought you would witness, but I guess it had to happen sometime, right? He slid on his shorts and got back into bed.

Rain pattered against the window, along with the occasional lightning strikes and thunder. The two of you sat in the darkness for what felt like hours.

“Why did your mother slap you?” JJ spoke, the air thick with something you couldn’t quite explain.

“I called her a pathetic excuse for a mother. So she slapped me. Then she left.” You turned to face JJ, your faces inches away from each other.

“Why didn’t you come to see us? You were gone for a long time, or at least a long to the three of us. We were all scared and confused.” JJ’s hand moved to rest on your cheek, staring at you. Even in total darkness, he could make out your features.

“I didn’t want to. I thought you guys hated me.” You relaxed into his touch, sighing.

“We don’t hate you, Y/N. We are all just a little disappointed that you never told us.” He moved a piece of your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear.

The tension was thick, and it scared you. You’ve never been this vulnerable to each other. JJ never let his guard down, and neither did you. The time you shared outside was something that has never happened before.

“Do you feel better?” You spoke softly, wondering if that was the right thing to say. You didn’t know if you were overstepping any boundaries the two of you had. A lightning bolt lit up the sky, followed by a large boom of thunder as JJ began to talk.

“Yeah.. I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” He shrugged it off and pulled the thin blanket up to his chest. You gave him a confused look. “JJ, I will always worry about you. That’s what friends do. We always look after each other and make sure the other one is okay.” You scooted yourself closer to him. You felt him shiver as your arm grazed his.

“Just don’t bother worrying about me, okay? I’ll survive.” His finger reached up to his face to touch the multiple cuts and bruises on his face. You heard him wince as the wind picked up outside.

Rain began rapidly pattering against the window, wind shaking the trees and scraping up against the side of the shack.

“JJ look.. I’m sorry for going full ghost on you guys for that long. I should’ve let you all know that I was okay.” You whispered, your hand resting on his shoulder as you laid your side to look at him.

“Nah I get it. I do it too.” JJ shrugged. You stared into his blue eyes, trying to figure out what was going on inside of that beautiful brain of his. He was too focused on the storm outside to realize that you were staring at him. When he finally made eye contact with you, your heart seemed to have skipped a beat.

“What?” He asked, his voice soft and caring. “Nothing.” You mumbled and laid down, getting comfortable with your pillow and the blanket you were currently sharing with JJ.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” JJ said before he turned on his side and tried to fall asleep. You were facing his back, your eyes glued to him. Slowly but surely your eyes closed and you both fell asleep to the sound of the wind and rain outside.

-

When you opened your eyes the next morning, you felt a heavy weight on your chest. Looking down, you saw JJ sleeping on you, his hand draped across your stomach with soft snores emitting from his mouth. You smiled and brushed some hair out of his face. You inspected his small cuts and bruises on his face, your index finger grazing each and every one of them.

Soon JJ’s eyes peeled open and he looked up at you. “What are you doing?” He mumbled, his eyes darting to your lips and then back up to your eyes.

“Oh, nothing. Good morning.” You replied, moving your finger away from his face. JJ rolled himself off of you and got out of bed, mumbling a ‘good morning’ before he exited the room and went to find the others. You followed him shortly after, finding no one in the living room.

“Uh.. guys?” JJ questioned, walking around the small boat house as he tried to find his friends. You then spotted John B outside, along with Kiara and Pope. “JJ, they’re outside.” You spoke before walking outside.

You looked around at the damage the hurricane had caused. Branches and twigs were scattered around the yard, along with a lot of random debris covering most of the grass. “Holy shit. She really did a number.” JJ admitted, walking around the yard, stepping on some twigs and picking random stuff up.

“Yeah, no kidding.” John B replied, his hands on his hips as he looked around at all the damage.

Surprisingly, the Chateau didn’t take much damage. You had noticed a bucket sitting on the floor earlier, so there must be a leak. Other than that, there wasn’t much else that needed repairing.

Suddenly, your phone in your pocket started to ring. Grabbing it, you saw the caller ID and it showed that it was your mom. “You have to be kidding me.” You muttered under your breath.

Catching your friends’ attention, they all turned to look at you. “Your mom?” Pope asked, wincing to himself once you nodded.

You answered the call and put your phone up to your ear. “Y/F/N Y/L/N, what in the hell do you think you’re doing?!” She screamed through the phone.

“What do you mean?” You kept your voice calm and controlled, because you knew if you raised your voice this phone call would be a lot worse than it already is.

“Leaving the house when I’m not there?! Doing god knows what with those low life’s?!” Your mom responded through the phone, her voice getting increasingly louder by the second.

“First of all, you left me!! What the hell was I supposed to do holed up in that house?! And I have told you this time and time again, they are not low lifes!” You retaliated back, making sure that your mom knew that she was in the wrong.

“That’s what you think.” She responded flatly. You just scoffed. “You make me sick, mom. You really do.” You responded, beginning to walk around in circles.

“You need to come back home. I mean it.” Your mom responded sternly. She could do anything, but nothing would tear you away from your real family.

“No. I am not coming back home for a while.” You shook your head, making eye contact with Kie.

“Excuse me? Yes you are. I will send the cops after you if I have to.” She responded, now raising her voice yet again.

“I cannot believe how disrespectful you are right now, mom. No, I am not coming home. You have given me so many reasons to not come home. I am going to stay here where I am more loved. Fuck off.” You yelled and ended the call, not caring about what she had to respond with.

“God, Y/N, I am so sorry you have to deal with her. That’s horrible.” Kiara walked up to you and gave you a hug. You hugged her back, resting your head on her shoulder.

The rest of the Pogues soon surrounded you and hugged you. You smiled as everyone hugged you.

-

About 30 minutes later, everyone was standing around a large fire that had started to burn all the twigs and branches scattered across the yard, when a Range Rover pulled up next to John B’s van.

You were not surprised when you saw Rafe get out of the car. “Oh hell no..” John B scoffed, walking over to Rafe.

“John B.. John B. Relax. I’m just here for Y/N.” Rafe smirked as he looked over at you, holding his hand out to stop John B.

“Rafe. Get out of here.” You told him, staying near JJ just in case he tries to do something.

“I got you, I got you.” JJ whispered in your ear, placing his hands on your hips as he held you close.

“It was your mom again.” Rafe’s voice got louder as he started to walk closer to you.

“I don’t care about her. Now leave.” Your heartbeat began to rise as he got closer and closer.

“Nah, I don’t think I will do that.” Rafe was now four feet in front of you.

“Hey, buddy, back it up!!” JJ yelled, staring at Rafe to make sure he doesn’t make any sudden movements.

“Aw look, you have a bodyguard. How adorable. You know, Y/N, me and you had history. I used to be your bodyguard. Isn’t that right?” Rafe smirked at you.

Before anyone could react, Rafe grabbed you by the arm and pulled you towards him. He held you close to his back, his arm locked across your chest.

“You dickhead!” JJ screamed and ran over to grab you.

Suddenly, Rafe pulled out a gun, causing everyone to stop in their tracks.

He clocked the gun at you, the barrel sitting right on your head. You gasped, tears trickling down your face.

“Tell them, Y/N. Tell them what we were.” Rafe said, smirking as he looked around at the group.

“Put down the gun and I will!!” You yelled, only causing Rafe to push the gun onto your head more. You let out a yell.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think you just better tell them now.” Rafe looked down at you, smirking.

“Me and Rafe,” you sniffled, looking down at the ground. “we had.. history. More than what I have told you. We… we dated.” You let out a choked sob.

Rafe slowly moved the gun away from your head. “See? Wasn’t so hard, was it?” He grinned, stilling holding you close to his body.

All of the Pogues looked at you in disbelief. You couldn’t even find it in you to look at JJ.

“Cmon, Y/N. Let’s go.” Rafe gave your friends a little wave before he walked over to his car with you and shoved you into the passenger seat.

You were unable to fight him. You gave up, just staring at the floor of the car.

As Rafe started the car up, your friends started to run after you. Rafe quickly backed up out of his spot and peeled away. The last thing you saw out of the passenger side window was JJ, looking scared and very upset.

[waka-chan-out]

TSUKKI AND 19 SFW PLEASE AND THANK YOU

300 Follower Event

Tsukishima Kei

Prompt 19: “I’m sorry for calling. Can I please come over?” - SFW

this fic was part of my 300 follower event. check out the rest of the submissions here.

non-canonical timeskip.

word count: 1.7k

content warnings: friends to lovers and hurt/comfort, boys. my specialty. (for context you met in college.)

the full body gasp that left me when i got this ask. your mind. i love where it’s at.

It took you a moment to register the vibrations thrumming against your hand. It had started in your dream and continued as you inhaled heavily and rubbed your face. Eyes barely open, you pawed through your comforter and found your ringing phone.

“Hello?”

“Hi.”

Well, that sure woke you up. You sat up in bed and held the phone close to your ear.

“Tsukki? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” His voice was unsteady. You checked the time.

“It’s three in the morning. Are you sure you’re alright?”

There was silence on the other end. You could almost feel his hesitation.

“I’m sorry for calling,” he said. He inhaled a shaky breath. “Can I please come over?”

“Jesus. Uh, yeah. Do you want me to pick you up? If you aren’t safe I can call you a car or something?” You pushed off your covers and moved quickly through your room, throwing clothes and other random items into their designated areas.

“I can get there myself. Are you sure this is okay?”

“Oh my god, of course. Just be safe getting here.”

“I always am.”

“Okay, well, please be safe. Just knock when you get here.”

You straightened up most of your living space and started boiling water for tea.

It didn’t take him long to get there. It never did. You swung open the door to face a very dejected, very tired looking Tsukishima.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.” You couldn’t push the look of concern off your face. He stepped inside and you gently shut and locked the door. “Are you hungry? We can talk but I don’t want you to feel—”

Your words died as Tsukishima melted against you. He dipped his face down and buried it against your neck and let out a shaky breath. His arms locked around your shoulders.

You hesitated. Yes, he was softer with you than most, but never this soft. You wrapped one arm around his midsection and brought the other one up to rest in his hair. He didn’t speak, but his breathing was weak and unsteady. If you didn’t know better you would have assumed he was crying.

“Let’s sit down.” You used the most gentle voice you could muster. “Do you want tea?” He shook his head against your shoulder. “Are you sure? I have that one you like.”

“You still aren’t allowed to tell anyone about that.”

You smiled.

“I haven’t and I won’t. Go sit down.”

He continued holding you tightly for a second, then rose to his full height and readjusted his glasses. You followed him to the couch with the tea. It was bright red and smelled strong — passion fruit, though he’d never admit it to anyone but you. He was so funny about letting people know his favorite things.

When you sat down beside him he immediately leaned onto your shoulder. His behavior was making you feel a little sick. Tsukishima was distant, sometimes a bit clingy when you were in a crowd or at a party, but that was never more than a hand on your back or thigh. He was never . . . like this.

“Do you want to tell me why you’re so touchy?” you asked. He huffed.

“Shut up.”

“Don’t be grumpy. You don’t have to tell me, but you also don’t get to take it out on me.”

He was silent for a moment, then took a shaky breath.

“I had a dream.”

He wasn’t going to continue if you kept asking questions, so you kept silent.

“It was weird at first. Normal dream nonsense. I was back on my high school volleyball team but all the upperclassmen had turned into bears.”

You snickered before burying your face into his hair, holding in the rest of your laugh. He turned his face the slightest bit to the side so he was addressing you more head on.

“If you keep laughing I’m going home.”

“I’m done. I promise. Sorry.”

He returned his gaze to the cup in his hands.

“So they were bears but it was like a normal practice. Then practice ended and when I walked out of the gym I was back on campus and you were there.”

“Were we college age again or were we our age now?”

“College. Now shut up.”

His hands were twitching in his lap, thumbs awkwardly padding over the glossy ceramic of his cup. You wanted to grab them and stop the movement, but you had no idea how he’d react.

“You were with this other guy. I don’t know who he was supposed to be. I didn’t recognize him. But he kept touching your lower back and trying to kiss you so apparently he liked you. Sometimes you let him so I guess you must have liked him back. So I started making my way over and I yelled for you and you ignored me,” he said.

“I’d never do that.”

He stayed pointedly silent for a moment, then continued.

“I tried yelling for you again and you didn’t listen. Then you walked into the science building and I tried to run after you but suddenly I was at that coffee shop we always went to.”

“The one that sells bubble tea?”

“Yeah, that one. You were with that guy again and when I walked in he was kissing you and kissing you and couldn’t take his hands off of you. And I tried to walk up and talk to you but you gave me this nasty look, like you hated me.”

His voice sounded strained. It wasn’t like he was about to cry. Tsukishima Kei didn’t do that, even around friends. He just sounded so . . . hurt.

“So, I just left. I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t know what I would do.”

You didn’t either, so you stayed completely silent.

“Time is weird in dreams, so a few years passed and I didn’t see you. I tried to ignore it, so I just blocked you on all social media and didn’t talk about you with my friends. And then —”

He stopped. You craned your neck to look at his face and his jaw was set, a hard line in his normally flexible, sarcastic demeanor.

“Then what?”

He took a long sip of his tea and even then hesitated, like the words would burn his tongue on the way out.

“I was going through my mail one day and there was this picture. But it wasn’t just a picture. It was you and this guy, and you looked so happy. It was an invitation.”

Oh.

“Before I could even react I was waking up.”

“That’s why you’re so upset?”

He stayed silent.

“Tsukki, you know I don’t dislike you. I never will. Nothing will change that.”

“That’s not—” he trailed off but sat up, like your touch now burned him. He set down his mug but was very, very careful not to look at you. “I don’t care about you disliking me.”

“Please tell me what you do care about, then.”

“I just . . . I can’t lose you like that.” He spoke slowly, carefully, like each word weighed thousands of pounds.

“You won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Tsukki, stop. I’m not going anywhere.”

He laughed bitterly.

“You don’t see the problem, do you? I don’t care if you hate me. You could tell me you always have, and I’d be fine. I’d move on. But the second I receive some shit like that in the mail, it’s over.”

“So you’re not upset that I didn’t like you?”

“No.”

“You’re upset because I was getting married?”

He was quiet, still refusing to look at you.

“Tsukki, we need to talk about this. Look at me.”

He finally glanced over, a sardonic smile curling his lips.

“You want me to repeat myself? Because I’ve told you why I was upset, but you seem oblivious.”

“I’m not—” you started, but you knew there were more important things happening than telling him he was wrong. You hesitated before asking what was reeling through your mind. “How long?”

“How long what?”

“How long has that idea upset you?”

He rolled his eyes. “Do you remember that party we went to in college? Where I finally admitted we were friends and you ran around telling everybody?”

Your face was heating up.

“That long?” Your voice came out more strained than you wanted it to.

“You asked,” he snapped. You sat in silence for a moment, letting his unnecessary snark fade, replaced by slumped shoulders and nervous finger tapping. He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. This is a lot. I should go.” He started to stand, and your heart lurched. A panic you didn’t know was hiding under the surface began to rise, and you snatched Tsukishima’s wrist.

“I would have felt the same.” The words flew out of your mouth before you could stop them. He turned, a confused expression on his face. “If I had that dream, I mean. I probably would have been a wreck.”

He gently settled back on the couch.

“You’re not messing with me?” he asked.

“Am I the kind of person to do that?”

“Absolutely.”

You huffed a quick laugh. “Yeah. But not like this.”

He stared at you, an unreadable expression on his face as his eye searched every inch of yours. Neither of you moved. He was so hardheaded and you were always determined to match him, to push his buttons until he had to show the slightest bit of vulnerability. Now it felt more like a game of chicken, both of you letting the tension rise, waiting for the other person to snap it. It was as Tsukishima was opening his mouth to speak, and his eyes fell to your lips and stayed there, that you decided you wanted it to be you.

You leaned forward quickly, pressing your lips to his as nerves threatened to boil up out of your body. Tsukishima inhaled hard, burying a hand in your hair as if he was trying to anchor you in his arms. You could feel his anxiety, his frustration, his excitement, all humming against you in the slight shifts of his body as his other hand came up to cup your face. He was gentler than you could have ever imagined, and it was nearly painful when he pulled away.

He kept his eyes closed, breathing quiet but unsteady, and smiled. Neither of you could bring yourself to speak. You just held each other close and let years of hesitation melt away.

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