#i know nothing about her literally at all <3 and could barely settle on her name LOL it was between this and kira? she seems like a k name

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

WHO UP AND READY TO CRY:

Kara doesn’t say anything even though she should—for a moment, she seems frozen as if in shock, not even her hair braying in the breeze of Jeremiah’s standing fan. As he looks at his sister, her curly brown hair that’s grown far past her shoulder blades, her eyes that are now fitted with contacts instead of boxy glasses, her nose that’s now pricked on the right by a cubic zirconia, he realizes he wasn’t just vague about his reasons for returning home, but cruel. What kind of brother calls his sister on a Sunday morning and explains his abrupt return is nothing to worry about, that all he needs is time, that in a week he’ll be better, clearer? What kind of brother says that if a week isn’t enough, then two certainly will be because he’ll quickly learn how to love the scent of coffee again and how to ask for a table for one and how to dance on his own and how to think fondly of a sunset and how to pray without feeling wrong and how to sleep alone? What kind of brother says that in any regard Madonna’s releasing Confessions on a Dance Floor in less than a month so he expects he’ll change by then and if that doesn’t fix him he’ll figure it out anyway? And what kind of brother looks at his sister now and thinks that in all this time he’s relieved she was never there to see him get into a bar for the first time, see him find himself in his houseplants and in Biyu’s laugh, see him fall in love with the wrong man? When Jeremiah was ten and his sister was sixteen, they’d promised each other they’d stay close, and maybe at that age, he didn’t know what that meant, to remain intwined in someone’s life till you were an intrinsic part of them—a lung and a breath, dog and a bone, a god and the son he creates. But here they are, so close, so far apart, Jeremiah’s mouth formed around a question he can’t bring himself to say out loud. What kind of brother leaves?

[luffington]

cream-filled ♡

➤ summary: Your devoted husband really wants to have a baby with you, so he figures out a solution to your size difference. (18+)

➤ pairing: charlotte katakuri x afab!reader

➤ word count: 2.2k

➤ warnings: extreme size kink, breeding kink, belly bulge, age difference (reader is mid-20s), cumplay, titjob, creative use of mochi, established relationship, fluff, 'wife' for reader

➤ notes: katakuri’s height is biblically accurate and i did very questionable math to figure out his dick size.... this is literally so nasty but silly donut man is definitely a freak <3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Months after your wedding, your husband marched into your shared bedroom, arms crossed and face buried in his scarf, and stated, “Mama wants us to have a baby.”

You furrowed your brows in confusion. If Big Mom really wanted little Katakuris running around, she should’ve considered your physical incompatibility before arranging your marriage. He was practically double your age and triple your height. Plus, the Emperor typically prioritized babies from her weaker children – Oven, Daifuku, and Perospero all remained childless, and her second son’s bounty spoke for itself. She occasionally made lighthearted comments to you about wanting a grandchild, but it sounded more like a fantasy than a demand.

As a thick silence settled between you, Katakuri became increasingly flustered. A lightbulb went off in your head and a knowing smile spread across your face. The tips of his ears turned red as he finally admitted, “Okay, I want a baby.”

Oh, he was precious. “And I would love to have one with you, honey, but I don’t know how. Your dick just can’t fit.”

Everything about Katakuri was enormous, and his cock was no exception. At full hardness, it measured at least eighteen inches – nearly the size of your entire torso. He understandably had a hard time finding sexual partners previously, and poor Katakuri was almost more nervous about showing you his dick than his fangs. Lucky for him, you didn’t scare easily.

As an average-sized human, your body was certainly too small to take it, but your sex life was absolutely thriving. Your husband worshiped every inch of you, and eating your pussy as ferociously as Mama during a hunger pang became as routine as his meriendas. And anything you could do with his cock turned him on – your dedication to pleasing him was enough to make him lightheaded. 

He’d even started training you to take his gigantic length. Katakuri replicated his dick into a mochi dildo with a donut-shaped base, then fucked you slow and deep to let you adjust to its size. The dildos got bigger and bigger, and you had already made some progress in loosening your hole. Neither of you cared if nothing ever came of it – it was intimate, fun, and incredibly sexy. 

“I came up with a solution,” Katakuri muttered shyly. “I… I think you’ll like it.”

“So mysterious,” you giggled, though you expected nothing less from him. Shifting your position to emphasize your skimpy lounge outfit as you spread your legs enticingly. “Alright, get in here.”

Your husband crossed the room with two thundering footsteps, draped his feathery scarf over a chair, then carefully removed his spurred boots. Two intimidating accessories stripped away barely affected his menacing appearance, but to you, it revealed the gentle giant underneath. Katakuri’s knees sunk into the huge mattress yet he still towered over you, a mix of adoration and hunger burning in his dark eyes. 

He easily flipped your positions so you rested on top of his bare chest. Always overly careful with your small frame and wanting to eliminate the risk of harming you, which usually resulted in him underneath you. The man who supposedly never lied on his back cared more about your safety than his outward image of perfection. He adored his pretty wife, his tiny wife. Blood rushed to his dick when he noticed that your toes barely reached his hips in this position.

You cupped his jaw and kissed him passionately, running your fingers through his cropped hair. The taste of sugary strawberry frosting overwhelmed your tastebuds as his broad tongue penetrated your mouth, though he was cautious about keeping his teeth away from your delicate skin. Sensing his hesitation, you broke the kiss to lick along one of his protruding fangs seductively.

“Such a gorgeous little thing,” he murmured reverently before pressing his lips against yours again. “How did I end up with someone as perfect as you?”

“Mama has good taste,” you shrugged with a grin. Katakuri undid his skull-shaped belt buckle and slid out of his tight leather pants, not missing the way you subtly rolled your pelvis against his solid abs. He was incredibly disciplined but he adored your impatience – everything about you was so fucking cute. 

“Jerk me off,” he grumbled against your lips. Straightforward as always, but never intentionally harsh or commanding with you. Katakuri lovingly rubbed the top of your head with his huge hand then brought it down on your ass with a light smack. 

You squealed and gave him one final peck on the lips before stripping, carelessly throwing your clothes onto the floor. Dark eyes admired your naked form as you crawled down his body, playfully tracing the vertical lines of his tattoo, then slid down the elastic waistband of his donut-print underwear. Even at half-hardness, his cock was big enough to split you in two. You straddled his hips and settled your bare core atop his heavy balls.

Katakuri licked his lips at the lewd sight of you wrapping your tiny hands around his dick – your fingertips couldn’t even touch. Spitting on the mushroom head as a meaningless attempt at lubrication, you firmly stroked your palms up and down his massive length. He willed his hips to stay still and let you set the pace, though it was relatively hard to control his animalistic instincts in bed with you. Your tongue darted out to kitten-lick his slit, fingers trailing along his cock’s more prominent veins. 

“That’s it, sweetheart, get me nice and hard. Show me how much you want my cum deep in your womb.” His words went straight to your cunt, and you relieved the ache by grinding down on his testicles. Katakuri cursed under his breath and watched you open your jaw as wide as possible to suckle on the head of his dick. His salty precum had a slight mochi aftertaste – the sticky substance permeated every bit of his body, and the flavor was strangely addicting. 

You noticed your husband eyeing your breasts, their softness squished against his cock and hard nipples massaging the sensitive skin. Even more blood rushed south when he pictured them swollen with delicious milk. He knew he wouldn’t be able to resist sucking them dry as an additional afternoon snack. With a mischievous smirk, you situated his giant length between your tits and pressed them together for good measure. Katakuri’s cock jerked against you, smearing a hefty load of precum on your cheek.

“You like it when I give you a titjob, huh? Do my boobs feel good wrapped around your dick?” He nodded as if he was in a trance. “Dirty old man,” you chuckled, turning his cheeks an adorable shade of red.

Katakuri never admitted this to you, but he sometimes imagined using you as his own little toy. The most fucked up version of it involved using you as a fleshlight, your body stretching like dough around him as he speared his dick inside your tiny cunt. Seeing how deep it could go, then lifting you up his length and trying again. 

However, that was obviously unrealistic, so he usually imagined you exactly as you were now. Warm skin flush against him, dick nestled between your arms and tits as he used your body to jerk himself off. Maybe that did make him a dirty old pervert, but he had a feeling you’d be willing to try it. 

That dirty fantasy, paired with your debauched expression and your hot cunt moving against his balls, almost pushed him into dangerous territory. But no, he needed to save his cum for something much more important. Katakuri grabbed your thighs and flipped your positions again, hovering over you with lust-blown eyes. 

He growled at the sight of your drenched pussy. “This all for me?” His thick thumb parted your folds to collect your slick, then he stuck the digit in his mouth and slurped happily. “Mmm, so sweet, I could get addicted to this.” As if he wasn’t already. “Can I have more?”

You giggled. “You can have whatever you want, Kata. No need to be so nervous.”

“Don’t wanna break you,” he mumbled breathlessly but didn’t give you a chance to respond. He dove between your legs, his impressive tongue easily splitting your cunt apart and making your eyes roll back into your skull. 

“K-Kata… holy fuck.” Your thighs shook around his head as your brain quickly dissolved into mush. “Harder, ahh, please…” 

Your husband eagerly complied, holding your thighs wide open and prodding his wet muscle even deeper inside you. He was already drunk off your juices and your pussy continued to gush around his tongue. When he found the spot that made your back arch off the bed, he licked over it incessantly, pulling away for only a moment to lap at your neglected clit. 

A sharp fang brushed against the delicate flesh of your inner thigh and made you flinch, but you just grabbed his hair and kept him pressed against your cunt. You would gladly take even the harshest teeth marks if it meant he kept eating you out like that. 

Katakuri restrained himself from going any further when he noticed the telltale signs of your orgasm. “Ready?” He asked, his chin completely soaked in your juices. You nodded eagerly despite not knowing what you were consenting to. You trusted your sweet husband to treat you well – and you wanted a baby just as much as he did.

He sat back on his haunches, clutching your thigh in one massive hand and grabbing the base of his cock with the other. Tilting your bottom half slightly upwards until his dick was aligned with your cunt. For a terrifying yet exhilarating moment, you honestly thought he was going to push it inside. 

“Hold yourself open for me.” Oh. That was his plan. You gladly used both hands to spread your pussy lips wide, your fluttering hole completely visible and begging to be filled by him. Katakuri began roughly jerking off, pretty eyes laser-focused on your cunt as he grunted quietly. He pressed the flushed red tip of his cock against your hole, which was already straining from the tiniest bit of pressure.

“Fill me up, honey,” you whimpered with a blissed-out grin. “Prove that you want to be a father.”

Your husband came with a deep moan as if on command, emptying his balls and spraying copious amounts of thick, creamy cum across your skin. Some of it miraculously made it into your spread hole and trickled deep inside your soaked cunt. The rest overflowed onto your thighs and tummy, globs dripping down the crack of your ass and onto the sheets below. 

Without wasting a moment, Katakuri gathered up some stray cum with two fingers and plunged them into your cunt. You nearly screamed from the sudden intrusion – his digits alone were bigger than any of your past partners’ cocks, and so much better. He repeated the perverted process until nearly every drop was shoved inside your pretty pussy. But he didn’t stop there. An obscene squelching noise echoed throughout the room as he scissored around the pool of his hot semen. Your stomach was stuffed so full of cum that it bulged out into a pretty bump.

“So fucking full. Imagine what you’ll look like pregnant – fuck, I’d get to see this every day.” He practically drooled at the visible outline of his fingers thrusting in and out. Your tiny little body worked so hard to accommodate his size and you loved every second of it. “My sweet cream-filled donut, I could eat you right up.”

You wanted to laugh at his endearing ridiculousness – his adorable love of sweets even found its way into dirty talk. But all air was knocked out of your lungs when he prodded at your cervix, literally trying to shove his cum inside the miniscule opening. He lifted you off the bed by your leg even more, willing gravity to assist the semen flowing inside you.

Katakuri continued to finger-fuck you with calculated thrusts, but when his teeth sunk into your thigh – hard enough to break the skin but not enough to bleed – you finally hit your peak. You shrieked loud enough for all of Totto Land to hear, making it known that your seventeen-foot tall husband likely just fucked triplets into you. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth and you almost blacked out, but Katakuri kept you grounded in reality with gentle kisses on your cheeks and forehead, holding your hand and willing your heartbeat to slow down. 

After a few minutes and constant reassurance that you did a great job for him, Katakuri pulled his fingers out and quickly replaced them with a small plug made of mochi. Just to make sure everything stayed inside you (and because he could stare at your stomach bulge for hours).

“Do you think it’ll work?” You panted quietly, eyes fluttering shut with absolute bliss. “Use your Haki. Will I be all swollen with your baby soon?”

“I can’t see that far into the future,” Katakuri smiled, heart overflowing with love for you. “So let’s keep trying until it does.”

[frudoo]

Literally obsessed with your Slasher 141 series, its been giving me so much brainrot

I have a few ideas;

reader feels a bit self conscious about her body and the boys make it their mission to show her how beautiful she is in their eyes (could be fluff or smut)

OR

Reader decides to be a brat over text to the boys as they were out for the day, and hides from the boys once they arrive home, resulting in them hunting and chasing her down 👀👀 ( smut and a lil fluff )

This is very self-indulgent because I've been feeling bad about my own body lately. This is for my fellow fat girls <3

Warnings: Mentions of skipping meals, food in general. Self-deprecating thoughts, somewhat poor communication. Fem!Reader is fat (in all of the slasher!141 AU). Fluff!

You’ve been off lately. During mealtime with the boys, you barely eat, just poke at the food on your plate. It isn’t like you—you’re usually the one to cook and try out all kinds of new recipes to share with your lovers, or baking sweet treats to give them after a hard day—so for you to suddenly have no interest in food is concerning. Tonight is no exception. John made your favorite, beef stew and cornbread (a southern delicacy you taught him how to make), but you just mindlessly stir the stew with your spoon, eyes focused on nothing at all.

     “How was your day, dove?” Kyle tries to break you from your trance, but you only nod.

     “Helped a chicken give birth today,” Simon stares straight at you, ignoring the incredulous looks the other three men give him.

     Still, no sort of reaction from you, other than an uninterested hum. 

     “Ah went tae the doctor earlier,” Johnny says next. “Turns oot ah’m pregnant.”

     “Nice,” you deadpan, completely oblivious to the outrageous lies these dumbasses have been telling you. 

     “Enough,” Price furrows his eyebrows, dropping his spoon with a clang. “Darlin’, you haven’t eaten in two days.”

     This time, you listen. Immediately, you rush to defend yourself, eyes narrowed at the bearded man.

     “I’ve just been fe-”

    “Don’t you give me that bullshit about bein’ sick, either. I’ve seen you sick, and it was completely different than this,” he interrupts, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Speak, baby. Tell us what’s goin’ on in that pretty head o’yours.”

     “It’s nothing,” you grumble.

     Simon sighs dramatically, slapping his palms down on the dining room table to push himself up out of his chair. Before you can protest, he picks you up and sits in your seat, then settles you in his lap. You try to wriggle free, but his hold on you is unwavering. 

     “Stop strugglin’ and tell us wha’ the fuck is wrong w’you,” the blond man grunts, strong arms wrapped around your waist so you can’t move as much. 

     “I hate my body!” You blurt, and the room falls silent. “I-I don’t know what you all see in me. I just… I look gross.”

     Tears build in your eyes and spill past your waterline, streaming down your round cheeks. All four men look at each other wordlessly, unsure of what to say. Their silence breaks your heart, and you manage to wriggle out of Simon’s lap. 

     “I’m going to bed,” you mumble, wiping your eyes with your sweatshirt and moping your way upstairs.

     Your bedroom is the furthest down the hall, the longest walk. Usually this fact doesn’t bother you, but with your state of mind the way it is right now, you can’t help but feel like it’s purposeful. You slam the door shut and lock it, purposefully avoiding looking at yourself in the mirror as you flop into bed. It creaks with your weight, and you let out another sob. 

     You end up crying yourself to sleep, clammy face stuck to your pillow. When you wake up, you find that your door is still locked and try your hardest not to burst into tears all over again. Not one of the boys came to check on you last night? It makes you feel even worse—are you that much of an eyesore that they don’t dare come see if you’re okay? The thought makes your stomach churn. A knock makes itself known on your door, pulling you from your thoughts.

     “Dove? Can you let us in?” Kyle’s soft voice sounds from the hallway. “Please?”

     “We wanna talk to you, sweet girl,” Price’s voice comes next, followed by more pleas from Johnny and Simon.

     With a shaky sigh, you oblige, unlocking the door and swinging it open. When your eyes fall on them, you bite back a gasp—they all look exhausted, puffy bags beneath their bloodshot eyes, frowns tugging their lips downward. You can’t imagine you look any better, but still, your heart aches seeing them look so down.

     “Hey, bonnie,” Johnny instantly brightens up when he sees you, and you have to fight the urge to push him off when he wraps his arms around you. 

     “Hi,” you mutter, impartial to the kiss the Scotsman plants on your temple.

     They all trail into your room nervously, and it’s just then that you notice a large jar in Simon’s arms. Your eyebrows furrow as you sit on the edge of your bed, waiting for one of them to speak up first.

     “I want to start by apologizin’, sweetheart,” John begins, sitting beside you on your bed. “We were all… well, none of us were expectin’ to hear you talk about yourself like that, and we panicked. That wasn’t fair to you.”

     You shrug, eyes focused on your lap. Price reaches out to grab your hand, gently running his thumb across your knuckles. 

     “You are absolutely stunnin’. You are the farthest thing from gross, dove,” Kyle sits on your opposite side, grabbing your unoccupied hand. 

     “Ah think ah speak fer all of us when ah say tha’ we love yer body,” Johnny hums.

     “I’m fat,” you frown, and Simon scoffs.

     “Yeah? And?” He narrows his eyes at you. “We like y’like tha’. More t’grab, more t’love.”

     “I don’t understand why,” you whisper, chewing on your bottom lip anxiously. 

     “What’s not to understand?” John squeezes your hand. “You’re soft, and warm.”

     “The fuckin’ best at cuddlin’, too,” Kyle grins.

     “Great tits,” Johnny butts in, earning himself a jab to the ribcage from Simon. “Och- wha’?! It’s true!”

     “Wha’ the wanker is tryin’ t’say is tha’ you’re perfect. For us, in general—y’complete us, love. Your body is jus’ a plus,” Simon concludes, finally stepping forward to offer you the jar.

     “What’s this?” You ask, carefully pulling your hands out of Kyle and John’s. 

     “We spent all nigh’ gatherin’ up pictures of you tha’ we love,” Kyle explains, watching excitedly as you screw the lid off. 

     Inside, the jar is filled to the brim with photos and polaroid pictures—candids of you baking in the kitchen, napping on the couch, tending to the garden or the animals, even selfies you sent to Johnny when the two of you first started talking online. Mixed in with those is printouts of text messages they’ve all sent each other, fawning over you, some of which dating back to even before you met the others. Tears stream down your face yet again, but instead of being sad, you’re overwhelmed with love and joy from these men you get to call yours.

     “I-I don’t know what to say,” you sniffle, setting down the jar to wipe your eyes.

     “Don’t say anythin’, darlin’, just let us hold you,” John murmurs, pulling you onto the bed and wrapping an arm around your waist.

     Maybe being dogpiled by your four huge husbands on an already creaky bed isn’t the best idea, but hey, all that matters is that you’re happy.

[hatsukeii]

if you're too shy (let me know) / bsf!osamu miya x reader

genre(s): fluff! + bsf to lovers!! they're both kinda stupid but i respect it! this is an apology from me to you for all the shit i've put you through in the past few angsty fics

warning(s): suggestive at the end, but no explicit nsfw, and you can interpret it as literally never happening as well! mc had one meh/bad experience w a hookup and it's mentioned in passing but nothing graphic

wc: 1.7k

tldr; the five kisses that osamu thinks he'd like to give, and the time that he does

#5: Miya Osamu would like to kiss into the palm of a hand

Osamu's hands have been calloused, bruised, and battered from youth. His fingers have caught flying volleyballs by the bloodied tips, knuckles have beaten up Atsumu countless times, palms have scraped and squeaked against the floor of the school gymnasium every day and night. Osamu doesn't remember what it feels to run his fingers across the smooth lines of his palms, or how it feels to touch his bare skin without some scratching sensation from the hardened rounds that decorate his hands.

Tonight, Osamu lies on the rooftop of some bar, the twenty-something people here for Atsumu's MSBY victory party shaking the walls and collapsing the ceiling with bouts of dancing and screaming. The fake grass beneath him cushions his body, bending and curving under his weight, and the weight of another beside him. His head tilts to glance over at you, limbs splayed out across the ground.

"What... whatdya lookin' at... 'samu?"

His head fogs, eyes spinning as he turns back to the starry sky, and the white dots in a backdrop of black begin to draw spirals around his head as he subconsciously rubs at the calluses on his fingertips and picks at the dried skin peeling off his palms. You. He's looking at you. Tonight, he thinks he'll use the sky as an excuse.

"Stars... they're pretty."

#4: Miya Osamu would like to kiss the top of a forehead

The earliest kiss Osamu can recall is from none other than his own mother, who held his face so gently in her equally calloused palms as her thumbs rubbed at the bruise on his forehead, earned from running into a glass panel wall. It must've hurt, Osamu! Be careful! She had said, inevitable tenderness seeping from her angry brows and worried eyes as she pressed a soft kiss into the bruise. The purple stain must've disappeared then and there, healed by a kiss, Osamu thought.

You roll over to lie on your side, and shuffle towards Osamu, who's still picking at nothing on his hands. A whiff of hot breath fans the skin of his ear, and Osamu freezes up at the proximity, shifting in the grass.

"...'samu! areyouuu drunk?"

His ears are red at the tips when you giggle stupidly into them, almost scalding to the touch, like they will melt skin and boil blood at direct contact. You haven't changed one bit since graduating from Inarizaki, still a lightweight, still whiny when alcohol begins flowing through your veins. If he could, he would pick you up, and tuck you into the nearest bed with the blankets up to your chin, just the way you like it, as he usually does when you show up at his house like this on random midnights. This time, he swears the alcohol is getting to his head too.

"Nooo...?"

The ground beneath him collapses when your fingers come up to flick his forehead. He twitches, before shooting up and rubbing at the sore spot. He curses himself for forgetting about the shots from before settling in when his mind blanks and his body sends itself straight back into the grass, the impact forcing a grunt from his chest. You cackle at him, and Osamu thinks he could definitely use a kiss on the forehead right now.

#3: Miya Osamu would like to kiss someone on the cheeks

Whenever Atsumu brings his team along to the store, brooding, foreign men soften into mounds of affection, teddy bears who engulf Osamu in all-encompassing embraces, and push sloppy pecks into both of his cheeks. In these situations, Osamu isn't sure what else to do but stand and let every teammate have their turn. He made an offhanded comment once to Atsumu, something along the lines of not understanding why a kiss on the cheek was the default greeting for foreigners. Atsumu, with grains of rice decorating the corners of his mouth, laughed at his question, and told him, it's the cheeks that smile back.

"Hey...'samu?"

You've propped your head up in your hand, elbow digging into the grass beside Osamu's motionless figure as you lie sideways on your hips, face angled above his own. Your eyes travel to his that stare at the sky, and you swim in intoxicating pools of mercury, bedazzled by the reflections of rhinestones sewn into the night sky. Osamu tries to look at the stars, he really does, yet his noticeable glances at your flushed cheeks are enough to catch your attention. Somewhere downstairs, a bet has been won as fists slam into tables and cheers erupt from the bar. Somewhere on this roof, your hair hangs loose in the elastic that's unwinding from your head, a silk cover draping over a Roman statue.

"Can weee... try something?"

#2: Miya Osamu would like to kiss along the side of a neck

Osamu likes to make fun of you the mornings after you stay over at his place, from the second you shoot up from his bed and storm into his kitchen, where he prepares onigiris to shake away the hangover from the night before. Once, a few years ago, he had to run to the nearest convenience store for bruise cream, all to help ease away purple marks the size of someone else's mouth on your neck. He deliberately fucked around when helping you, poking at different spots until you slapped him and snatched the canister of cream from his hands. Whose fault was it that you now look like you can't 'curl your hair?' He had spat out. Osamu knows that he only made fun of the purple splotches because they weren't his own.

"Are you...sure?"

"Yeaah!"

Osamu is cautious, hands hovering above your waist as the two of you lie on your sides. What he's doing, he isn't sure. After all, in his twenty-four years of living amongst the likes of you, and in eight of those years spent watching you from the corners of his eyes, he has never touched anyone like this. Not their hands, not their face, not their waist. He moves away from your waist, opting to graze his pinky with yours instead. You tangle your fingers with his, holding his hand tight against your own. His calluses are hard beneath your soft palms, toughened through trials of time and effort. You lead his hand up to the side of your neck, and release it there. Osamu lets it mold into the shape of you, palm fitting on your body as if it was carved for only his touch.

"Feels right?"

"...Feels good, 'samu."

You return his touch with a hand cupping his cheek, and something unfamilar, more dizzying than the shots he took, surges through Osamu's entire being. He turns his face to your touch, and his mouth just makes contact with the lines on your palm. They're soft, so warm against his lips, and he presses them a little deeper, a satisfied hum voicing itself from your throat.

"Do you...like that too?"

"I...do. Is it okay if you keep going?"

He nods, pulling your face towards him as he turns away from your palm, and planting a kiss on your forehead instead. Your breathy sigh is music to his ears, and he lets his lips linger on your skin. But Osamu is only doing this for a friend, a friend who is confused about what feels good, and what feels wrong. A friend who hasn't felt genuine touch since the night they showed up at his house, hickeys decorating their neck. He remembers your grumbles beneath your breath as you slathered the cream across every single purple stain, fuck, it hurts. He didn't get it then, and he doesn't get it now. How could this touch ever hurt, when everything about it seems tailor-made for the mouth that gives?

"Was that okay?"

"...Yeah, that was nice."

Osamu's eyes migrate to your cheeks now, flushed and red even in the guise of darkness that encompasses the air around you. He wants to see them smile. He moves from your forehead, and his vision darts between each of your eyes. Your breath hitches at his staring, and it gets stuck in your throat when fluttering warmth lands on your left cheekbone, then your right. His hair tickles your forehead, body now impossibly close to yours as his hands massage and stroke at your neck. You think about slipping your hands beneath his shirt, so you can touch him the way he's doing to you, bare skin and all, and you smile.

"Do you want a few more?"

You don't want just a few more, you want it all.

"Yeah, do what feels right, 'samu."

He grins, dipping into your neck as he peppers kisses across its length. You squirm and giggle at the sensation, his breaths and hair tickling your sensitive skin.

"'S-samu! That tickles! Something else! Please!"

He laughs into your neck, before coming back up to meet your eyes. Your figure is getting blurry beneath his vision, either from the alcohol still running through his system, or something else- something better, more addicting too.

Then Osamu's got his lips on your own, and you're slipping your hands beneath his shirt the way that you thought you wanted to. His torso is smooth beneath your fingertips, and he shivers, sending trembles from his body to yours. He can't see a thing beneath his eyelids, but his hands find the skin of your waist instinctively. His hands were made for this, he thinks. Not to pick at his calluses or to trace lines into his palms. No, they were made for you, made to hold your waist against his own. Your hands travel from his torso to his back, feeling for the dip in his spine as you push him close, even closer than he already is.

"Do you like me, 'samu?" You mumble against his lips at the chance, and he gives you a shit eating, albeit smitten smirk in response.

"I think you know that already. But maybe…”

His head inches towards the side of your own, sending a hot breath into your ear. His hand slides towards the centre of your stomach from your waist, irritatingly slow.

“…I would like you better if you took off your clothes."

#1: Miya Osamu would like to kiss you

author's note:

i'll kiss u fr if u know what song this is made from because i can't get it out of my head like it's SO GOOD also i need osamu like this too he's a YEARNING MAN HERE!!! this is the apology for all the angst i've been pumping out lately i know i've hurt a few souls but it's nothing a yearning osamu fic can't fix bbs

anyways tags!!

@chuuya-brainrot @starlysama @catsoupki @akaakeis @fiannee @bailey-reeds @hiraethwa @iiwaijime

ok bye bye see u next fic pookies love u guys

[yazmarina]

super trouper

for hit play, a drabble event.

—"part of a success that never ends, still i'm thinking about you only " (super trouper by abba)

charles leclerc (f1) x afab!reader

warnings/notes: exes to ?, hint of second chance romance

a/n: short and sweet on my return. i hope all the charles girlies and non-girlies like this <3

You really shouldn't be here. You had no reason to turn up at this race weekend, save for the fact that your friend was also going and she urged you to go for her sake.

Right. You're doing this for her. No one else. Certainly not for the hometown hero.

His face is everywhere and so are the eyes that seem to gape at you. People's eyes follow you with curiosity, double takes and soft gasps when they realize who you are.

It takes all your self-control not to roll your eyes under the heat of their stares. Are they not aware that I live literally a bus ride away? I spend half of my time in Monaco, anyway. Why is everyone freaked out that I'm here?

You can already read the gossip headlines in your mind.

"Do you want to grab some lunch first?" Your friend asks, gesturing to the huge hospitality building that overlooked the pitlane.

You nod, wanting nothing more than to be indoors and away from prying eyes. "Sure."

The two of you make your way inside and you're relieved to see that people are sparse here, not a single one of them giving you any mind. You settle in a booth at the very end of the floor, letting your friend have a go first at the buffet of food laid out.

You idle with your phone for a bit, already seeing your inbox count tick upward. You've been here for an hour and it seems as if the whole paddock has already seen you.

You lock your phone in frustration.

You really shouldn't have come. Not when the breakup barely six months ago was shrouded in so much speculation and drama. It's not as if your relationship with Charles exploded into a world-stopping mess. It just slowly but surely crumbled, all the gossip chipping away at the love you once shared. You know all this was part of it—the dedicated pages to scrutinizing you, your looks, your behavior, the news about you and your ex still coming out half a year after you split, the constant barrage of questions about Charles, Charles, always about Charles.

But it was indeed always about Charles.

Even you being here, in Monte Carlo today, was about him.

You promised you'd see him race at home when you were still together. It wasn't your fault the relationship would be that short-lived.

But, still. You promised.

You unlock your phone once more, opening up the message thread you had with Charles. The last text was from him, asking if you'd be in France this week. You never answered back.

'Hi Charles.'

You cringe at the formality but with a deep breath, you continue to type.

'Yes, I'm still here. I'll be watching today with a friend. Wishing you all the luck :)'

-

The grip you had on your seat could have been enough to crush someone's hand.

The wide-screen TV in hospitality flashed the bright red Ferrari of your ex-boyfriend, leading the race, five laps away from victory. A victory at his home race, with his dream team, his people cheering him on.

Your heart hammers against your chest and you feel rigid all over, nerves and anticipation taking ahold of you. Your friend looks over and you meet her eyes, and you know at that moment what she's thinking. She smiles, reaching for your hand, and squeezes.

Regardless of what became of you and Charles, it's hard not to feel as if this was your dream too. All the late nights and missed dates and the pain and scrutiny were for this. For him to achieve this very dream.

You feel tears start to well in your eyes as Charles enters his final lap. The people around you are already jumping out of their seats, egging him on, closer and closer to the chequered flag.

As Charles drives past the finish line, the whole world seems to erupt in cheers but it's all tuned out as your tears start to finally fall. You don't notice the gentle shake of your shoulders as hundreds of emotions crash down on you.

You let your friend pull you into a hug, hiding your tear-streaked face from the world.

The podium celebrations right after didn't help much with your attempt at keeping a casual, level-headed facade. Your nose is stuffy and you haven't stopped crying since the race ended. The slow recognition from the people around you isn't lost on you, either.

But it's hard to care when Charles stands on the top step of the podium, beaming as his national anthem blares. It's more difficult yet, fighting the urge to run to wherever he is just so you could jump into his arms and tell him how proud of him you are, how much you miss him, how much you still love him.

Instead, you turn to your friend, hicupping through your tears as you ask if they can come with you back to the paddock.

-

"You're here."

You smile sheepishly as Charles stops just as he's about to enter the Ferrari motorhome. The calls of his name and murmur from the fans around you tailing him through the paddock are drowned out, your whole body seemingly rooted in place as the familiar green eyes look into yours.

"Yes," you respond plainly, suddenly at a loss for words. Clearing your throat, you step closer and Charles automatically opens his arms for a hug.

"Congratulations, Cha," you say, voice muffled into his shoulder as he pulls you against his chest.

"Thank you." Charles beams at you as he pulls away. The smell of champagne is still strong on him but you pay it no mind, wanting nothing more than for everyone to disappear so you could share even a fraction of a moment with him. Just him.

"Did you cry, mon cœur?" Charles asks, looking at you closely. Your jaw drops open at his use of your old pet name and he, too, pauses and blinks as he realizes what he's done.

Charles laughs, a hint of nervousness in his voice, and you can't help but giggle along. It's awkward and it's not ideal, but being this close to him brings a certain ache in your heart, more sweet than painful.

"I'll see you later, okay?" Charles declares, gently taking hold of your arm. "Promise. I'll see you."

You nod, smiling up at him. Tears prickle in your eyes again and you quickly blink them away, mortified at what everyone would think about you crying in front of your ex after his home race win.

Charles leans in and delivers a peck on your cheek, quickly rubbing your back before turning to finally enter the motorhome. He gives you one last wave before disappearing behind the glass doors.

[reddblight]

So I started a fun lil thing, idk what i’m gonna do with this atm, but i like it. Some spoilers for Harumasa’s story quest btw, if u haven’t played it yet you’ce been warned. Thinking of calling this Cat & the Canary if i do continue it.

Seth needs an apartment.

He’s been on the force for over half a year now and mostly he’s hopped back and forth from the precinct to his parents place. Which is fine for him! He doesn’t mind it. He’s never been a guy who really needed much personal space, honestly he doesn’t really know what he’d do with most of it given the opportunity. But as he’s once again pulled aside by Zhu Yuan he’s reminded.

“Officer Seth, how are you settling in?” They’re standing in a mostly empty hall, two officers on the far end having a friendly conversation about their weekends.

“Same as last week Captain,” Seth briefly notices that her posture is a little stiff and her smile seems a little worried. “Can’t really complain. You and all the other officers have been taking care of me well! Why do you ask?”

The captain sighs, deflating slightly, “Seth, I know I’ve said it before, but you really should get your own apartment. Qingyi has noted that you sleep here between 3-4 nights a week on average. I’m just worried is all.”

Zhu Yuan and Qingyi have been suggesting this to him for about a month now, albeit more subtly on Qingyi’s part. Seth was beginning to think they make a decent point. He doesn’t mind the barracks, and the lack of a commute is certainly nice, but he doesn’t really have a place to put things, or take his friends to hang out. He just doesn’t know how he’d manage his own apartment… it’s intimidating.

Zhu Yuan’s hand found its way, now resting on Seth’s shoulder as she met his eyes directly. “Promise me you’ll think about it at least?”

“Promise, I will.” He gave her a lopsided smile in return.

Which is why he now found himself sitting on his bed in the barracks. Thinking about it. It’s certainly not like he couldn’t afford a place if he really wanted to, his parents give him plenty in his weekly allowance that he keeps saved up. He just doesn’t wanna live off his parents’ money for the rest of his life. He’s got a decent amount saved up from his salary, so he could probably afford a smaller place for a while.

He pulls out his phone and readjusts his pillow to get marginally more comfortable on his maybe 4 inch mattress. He starts scrolling through some apartment listings. What neighborhoods should he look at though… It’d be nice to live near some friends, have someone to hang out with nearby. He opens a new interknot tab and looks at Zhu Yuan’s neighborhood and wOAH! That’s certainly a bit expensive for what he can afford right now, damn cap, good for you. Hm… who else. Qingyi lives in the precinct because she’s technically government property. Oh, Jane! Wait… where does Jane live? Huh.

Well that’s fine! He’s got other friends outside of work. Like… uh… Oh! Like the managers! Sixth street is pretty nice, and Wise & Belle are always inviting him to eat at General Chop’s, so at least he’d be closer to that. He’s pretty sure he remembers seeing an apartment complex across the street from Random Play. Seth rushes to open a tab and see if there are any open rentals in the building. Luckily there are a couple! Unluckily they’re all 2 bedrooms. Uff, he doesn’t need a 2 bedroom, he barely knows what he’d do with all the space in a 1 bedroom. It’d be so much easier if someone else could decorate the space and help him with all these application processes he knows literally nothing about.

Wait a minute. Seth, you’re a genius! A roommate! ‘Great thinking Seth.’ ‘Thank you Seth, I appreciate that.’

Maybe he does need to get out more…

Hmmmmmmm, a roommate. Does he know anyone who’s looking for an apartment? It’d certainly be easier if he did. Finding someone new to move in with him sounds kinda exhausting. Think Seth, think!

Seth gets up and walks over to the bathrooms to start brushing his teeth as he thinks. He’s so sure he heard someone he knows is looking for a place. He doesn’t think he imagined it.

Ooh! He does know someone looking for an apartment! Or at least he’s pretty sure he does. Didn’t the Captain bring up that Asaba Harumasa was looking for an apartment too? He’s like 83% sure she was talking with Executive Officer Hoshimi about it the other day. He’ll have to ask her tomorrow to make sure.

He excitedly skips back to his bed, earning a few odd looks from other officers trying to sleep in the barracks.

Seth and Harumasa haven’t always seen eye to eye in everything. Harumasa seemed to assume a lot of things about Seth and tended to steer clear of him most of the time while they were at the academy, but when they did talk he was snarky, a little but of an ass, and a lot of what he said tended to go over Seth’s head. But then, just last month they’d had that weird conversation at Port Elpis. Seth had thought they were arguing, Harumasa had said that awful thing about people with Ether Aptitude Regression Syndrome, but then when Seth had yelled at him about it he’d seemed to soften. He’d said “Seth Lowell, you’re an honest man. You’re going to make an excellent public security officer.”

Seth found his tail raising slightly at the memory. It had been such an odd interaction, another strange conversation with Harumasa that seemingly went over his head. His colleague had thought Harumasa was making fun of him, but Seth disagreed. He sounded so… genuine, so sure.

Ahem anyway.

So maybe it wouldn’t be so awful if he asked Harumasa to be his roommate. Worst case scenario if they didn’t get along he knew they could at least be civil, not like they’d really see each other all the time either with the odd hours their jobs could have. Really just weekends, and they would potentially have separate rooms.

Yeah, it was all coming together now. Seth got under the thin sheets of his cot and smiled to himself, committing to ask Zhu Yuan if he was remembering correctly when he sees her in the morning. Though he didn’t have many blankets, Seth felt pleasantly warm as he fell asleep, the memory of Harumasa’s words on his mind.

•••••

Asaba Harumasa is having a fucking rough couple of months.

Sitting at his desk, he thinks over how insanely busy Section 6 has been. First they start going traipsing through Hollow Zero because the Chief wants to obliterate all evil. A noble goal, but it’s hard to slack off while ethereals are actively trying to kill you. Technically this isn’t really the bad part, just his regular job, but still. Then they’re suddenly famous for some reason and he’s got people all over him trying to get his signature, some even trying to find where he lives (looking at you t-shirt guy)! Then of course they were trapped in the VR system at the HIA with a hacker trying to make his ass braindead for real. And as if all that wasn’t enough they got dragged into a fucking conspiracy with a proxy and had to kill the acting-commander of the Janus Quarter because he was committing treason and then corrupted himself into an ethereal. Not to mention last month Asaba had, with the help of the formerly mentioned proxy, gone on a suicide mission to stop his former master’s assistant from harvesting children’s spinal fluid for drugs, then nearly died in a hollow after killing his ether corrupted master. So yeah, bad couple of months.

The cherry on top of it all was that he was being evicted at the end of the month. Some PTA mom had reported him to the land lord. She must’ve either saw his scars at some point or seen him taking his meds or pain killers and assumed he was a junkie. Technically could he fight it? Yeah, but that was so much work for an apartment he barely liked. So fuck it, he’ll get a new one with less nosey neighbors.

Would getting a new apartment be hard? Probably. It certainly wouldn’t be easy now that he was donating a hefty chunk of his paycheck to the EARS kids that Kirishima was experimenting on, but it was worth it. He’d get a roommate. Two birds with one stone on that one, since Yanagi had been bugging him about it. She was concerned about him since the rest of Section 6 had found out about his condition. He gets it, he’s gotten himself a reputation for being a slacker and pretty unserious at work, add that to his recent close call and he doesn’t really blame Yanagi for getting worried. She was specifically worried that he was forgetting to take his meds some days, which was of course ridiculous, he was like 76% sure that he wasn’t. That’s a pretty high percentage! Anyway, because of that concern she wanted him to get a roommate to make sure he remembered his meds. It was a little annoying that she was inserting herself into his care, but he was trying to be understanding for the aforementioned reasons.

Even if the Deputy Chief’s concerns were annoying, Harumasa had to admit that given his current circumstances a roommate wasn’t an awful idea. He wasn’t gonna turn them into his personal nurse or anything, probably wouldn’t even tell them about his condition. Though a nurse had been another suggestion of Yanagi’s. Like he could afford that shit on a government salary. Ha!

Even though getting a roommate was his only option right now, he wasn’t thrilled about it… He didn’t need some stranger getting all in his business. He also didn’t really wanna risk bothering anyone with his night terrors, or worry about them seeing his scars. It’d be a bit of a hassle. Harumasa lays his head down in his arms onto the paperwork he’s supposed to be filing. He doesn’t wanna be perceived as frail or weak or sickly. What he really needs is someone unobservant enough or polite enough not to pry into his life.

The regular sounds of hustle and bustle in the office are briefly interrupted by his phone’s ringer, alerting him to a notification. Harumasa musters all his energy to look up at his phone screen. A text from Seth Lowell? What does he want?

Harumasa will admit he wasn’t a huge fan of the Lowell family in general. Was that fair? Maybe not, but Seth’s older brother left a bad taste in Asaba’s mouth. When he had started at the academy the elder Lowell brother had been in his final year, and he had a bit of a reputation for riding on the coattails of his family name, aiming for a cushy job. He didn’t work particularly hard or care particularly much and it just rubbed Harumasa the wrong way, so the next year when Seth came to the academy he steered clear. Now Seth was a pub sec rookie and his brother was a big wig behind desk who hadn’t worked a day in the field to earn it. It confused and frustrated him. He didn’t talk to Seth much but had assumed he’d be like a mini-me of his brother. He was proven wrong though, he was big enough to admit that to himself. When Harumasa had confronted and pushed at Seth at Port Elpis he’d snapped back that just because the EARS kids were sick, they were not worth sacrificing for drug research that may better New Eridu. Nice to know the Lowell’s had produced one good kid. Maybe he’d be worth getting to know.

Anyway, he opened the text to a somewhat surprising sight. “Hey senior Asaba, I heard through the grapevine that you were in the market for a new apartment! I’m also looking for a new living situation and was wondering if you’d wanna possibly be roommates? I’m currently looking at a couple 2 bedroom places on sixth street, right near Wise and Belle’s place.”

Well. That’s wildly convenient. Someone both polite and oblivious enough not to pry into his life? Fuckin ding ding ding. Harumasa started typing his response.

Uff all this thinking is making him tired. He needs a nap. He’s sure the Deputy Chief won’t mind heheh.

Thanks for reading btw guys, hope u like it. Lmk if you guys like it or have any notes, i’m more than happy to chat about this weird lil thing i thought up lol. Also i probably need name suggestions for Seth’s brother bc i think he has no canon name? And Harumasa’s cat.

[stars-and-inkpots]

Greetings, I'm hoping you're having a great day and or night😊 I love your writing, you're talented! If your requests are still open, can I request Tav (female please) being insecure that she doesn't live up to Gales standards because he was with Mystra? Tav just tells him "I'm in love with you, but I'm nothing. I'm no Goddess" I love my romance with some angst🥲❤️

I finally have a little time this week to write!! I loved this request, thank you so much. I actually had two versions of this planned out, one where you aren't yet together (this one), and another set in post game when the two of you are together in Waterdeep (I might finish this version and post it at some point too) ANYWAY, I hope you enjoy!

With You | Gale x Reader

You were nothing when compared to a god, and Gale certainly wasn’t blind to that. 

So you keep yourself at a distance. You convince yourself that this is for the best. 

Of course, Gale notices.

Pairing: Gale/Reader

Tags: Love confessions, hurt/comfort, fluff and angst, first kiss, comfort, self-esteem issues, low self-worth issues

Ao3 Link: Baldur's Gate 3 Requests

Word Count: 1,037

Realising you had developed feelings for Gale was a complicated discovery on its own. Knowing that Gale’s previous partner had been none other than a literal goddess complicated it even further. 

The two of you had grown close, and both of you would be fools to not admit that there was something between the two of you. But you hesitated everytime the opportunity to take things any further than friendship arose. Not because you didn’t want to, no; Gods, you wanted to so badly. But it was exactly because of Mystra that you hesitated. 

Gale had been with a goddess before. A goddess. And you were just… well, you were just you. You were mortal, and you could never hope to possibly compare to the divine. And what if he was just settling for you? Was he simply lowering his standards? What if Mystra, for whatever reason, decided to return to her affections for Gale? Would he, despite everything that She had done, go back to Her? You were nothing when compared to a god, and Gale certainly wasn’t blind to that. 

So you keep yourself at a distance. You convince yourself that this is for the best. 

Of course, Gale notices. 

Not immediately at first, but after a few days of you barely speaking to him, he can’t help but worry he’s done something wrong. There are no more late night talks by the fire; no walking just a little too close to be simply friendly during the day; no stolen glances. Nothing. Where there was once undeniably something, there is nothing. He curses himself for not saying anything sooner, for hesitating. 

At first, he wants to assume it’s because you suddenly realised that he’s dangerous, that he’s volatile. Then he worries that you’ve realised he’s just not as impressive as you thought he was. Maybe his skill no longer impresses you, and if he doesn’t have that then what else is there? The thought that you look at him and see only what he thinks he is, a pathetic shadow of a man who once was. 

Maybe it’s desperate on his end, but he’s not willing to just let this go. As much as he’s ready to wallow in self-pity, he needs to know. He can change, if that’s what you want. 

---

“I want to talk to you, if you have a moment,” Gale says before you can duck into your tent for the night. 

“Alright,” you relent. “Let’s go for a walk then.” You lead the two of you out of camp, and Gale follows beside you. You can’t shake the anxious feeling that only grows with the silence between you two. Once you’re far enough away, Gale speaks up. 

“I’m going to be perfectly transparent here; and if I’ve misread anything, do stop me before I embarrass myself too much.” Gale takes a breath, as if he’s already waiting for you to object. When you remain silent, he continues. “You mean a great deal to me, and I care about you a lot. In all honesty, I have feelings for you, very strong feelings. Now, a few days ago I had thought that you returned and shared my affections. But you’ve been quite different with me as of late. I know I am not owed an explanation or an answer, but I will still ask for one all the same.” 

You freeze. Even though you knew this conversation would come eventually, you don’t know what to say. He’s here. He’s here and he just admitted that he felt the same way as you did, and yet you can’t bring yourself to answer. 

“I just want to know if it was something I did. Did something change? As I said, you don’t have to answer, of course, I just… what happened to make you change your mind?” You can hear the nervous self-consciousness in his words, but it confuses you. How could he ever think it was something that he did when he had been with a goddess? How could he want you? 

“No, nothing changed. It was nothing that you did. I promise.” You sit down, and Gale follows, sitting beside you. 

“Then why have you been so cold with me? It isn’t fair to tell me I did nothing wrong when you go from spending so much time with me to barely even looking at me, let alone speaking to me.” He sounds frustrated, and you don’t exactly blame him. It was cruel of you to treat him so differently without an explanation. 

“I’m sorry.” You finally bring yourself to look over at him. Even through his slight annoyance with your behaviour, there is hurt. “You deserve better than me,” you say finally. You watch his expression change to one of confusion. “You shouldn’t lower your standards for me.” 

“What?” For once, you seem to have rendered him nearly speechless. 

“Gale, I’m in love with you, but I’m nothing. I’m no goddess.” 

A sudden understanding crosses his face. 

“Yes, you are. You most certainly are.” He takes your hand in his. “And you are more than I deserve, I assure you. If you truly wish to remain no more than friends, then so be it; but if those worries were all that were holding you back, I assure you you need not entertain them any further.” Every word sounds so completely genuine. 

“Are you sure?” You ask, despite yourself. 

“Completely.” He lifts your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. The act and the way he looks at you is enough to push your worries aside for now. You can tell he means everything he says. 

“Can I kiss you?” You ask, in a rush of newfound confidence. 

“I would like nothing more.” 

The hand not holding yours rests against your face, thumb brushing along your cheek. You brush your fingers through his hair, and you feel him shiver. It’s a soft kiss, the beginning of things. When you part he rests his forehead against yours and both of you are smiling. 

The walk back to camp is quiet, but comfortable. Gale doesn’t let go of your hand until you kiss once more and retire for the night to your tents.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I have always thought that Meghan does not make her own money, does not see any projects throught to completion and isn't launching her own company is because she does not want to split money with Harry in case of a divorce.

I feel she is of the mentality that what's his is hers, but what's hers is just hers. (I took that phrase from somewhere online, but I can't remey where from).

That's the reason she kept her agent and publicist in US when she married in 2018,so he could deal with her company Frim Fram while she was in the UK. It's the reason she wanted to get pain fromthe work she did while royal and wasn't happy with the 3 mil stipend.

And it's the reason all their major money-making projects have been Harry's - Book deal, Invictus, Better Up , or joint - Netflix.

When Harry loses money (the lawsuits) she is mad. But when she loses money (pr, paid mag covers, 40x40 merch, Bench, insane spending for fake Un tour etc) it's just an investment gone wrong and they never talk about it again.

I think Meghan always just wanted to be an influencer, even when that word wasn't a thing. She liked the Tig thing she did and that's all she wants to do. Archwrll is very much modelled along those lines where she updates their stuff like updating a blog.

I know people sayshe isn't very good with follow through but I don't think she is that bad. Their failure has got a lot to do with Harry and him simply not knowing, not being capable of doing, not being very good at carrying projects on his own without a capable team.

The moment their divorce is finalized and the financials have been settled (and locked in) she will start working (hustling) and she will start making money the way she wants to. It will be something stupid and ridiculous, mostly speaking fees, appearances, red carpet merching or some product line. But she will make money.

She is just hedging her bets now and milking the royal money train dry. Whatever she has made so far in the past 7 years is safely locked in some other bank account under some company name that someone else is the front of.

You don't even have to be an evil genius to do that just have some financial acuity and ambition. Ones a hustler, always a hustler.

Ask from August 20th

Some good points here.

I disagree that Meghan has follow-through. Nothing I’ve seen from her since 2015ish shows she has follow-through. She does the bare basic minimum and the team around her finishes everything so she can put her name on it. She did it on The Tig. She did it for Suits. She did to the Hubb Kitchen cookbook. She did it with the royal tours. She did it with the fauxyal tours. She did it with Smartworks. She did it with 40x40. She did it with the UN. She did it with India and Malta and Rwanda charity work. She did it with the USO tour. She did it with the wedding. She did it with Vogue UK.

The only things Meghan did herself was throw everyone under the bus and stab them in the back. And even that’s sometimes questionable.

So she needs the capable team around her too, but capable means something different for Meghan. Where Harry’s “capable team” meant having people who do literally everything for him from picking out his clothes to taking him for munchies to running his own charity programs, Meghan’s “capable team” means having people who do exactly what she wants, when she wants them to, as she wants them to, and to read her mind as to when/how/where she wants things.

And that’s not someone who’s a good boss. That’s a terrible boss, a toxic one, one who has no problem screaming at people and throwing them under the bus, one who’ll underpay her staff and manipulate them into unethical or immoral behavior, work them to the bone, and who demands not just total loyalty, but 24/7 access and commitment. Everyone knows that about Meghan. Everyone sees that about Meghan. (And if one doesn’t see that about her, then one doesn’t have enough experience in the workplace or has never had a toxic boss of their own.)

And because Meghan is that kind of a boss, the only reason she has a capable team around her now is because of Harry. Because it looks really good on people’s resumes to work for the Duke of Sussex because they can leverage that to other big high-faluting jobs with more important people and more important work.

The second Meghan doesn’t have Harry, not only is that team gone, so is the world’s tolerance for Meghan Markle. She can hustle all she wants to get the paychecks she believes she deserves, but she isn’t going to get it. She’s getting no better than what she has now because it’s the same thing she got before Harry. If people weren’t interested in her before Harry, they definitely won’t be interested once her 15 minutes are up and her memoir washes out of the news cycle, and they won’t be interested because she can’t do anything for them. She doesn’t move magazines. She doesn’t sell clothes. She couldn’t sell her own book. She can’t even sell her own jam, dog biscuits, and kids.

The best her hustling post-Harry can get her is probably a spot on The View when her memoir comes out but even that’s not a sure thing because she’ll want them to fawn over her and I guarantee you, someone will be rolling their eyes at her in front of her. My money is on Whoopi.

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Shadows and tears

So this is a series about Azriel and reader. English is not my first language so please excuse any mistakes. I hope you like it!

Summary: Reader is a tortured soul who barely escaped the brutality of the Illyrian camps finding shelter in the Day Court. Her identity was well hidden until she caught the attention of the Night Court’s Shadowsinger. Will the mating bond be enough for their love to settle in?

Warnings: angst, mentions of abuse and trauma

You don't need a tissue box.....yet

Masterlist

Prologue , Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

Chapter 3

Three sisters for three brothers

After a long bath to clear your mind, you decided that you had enough of sulking around, you needed to get out of the house even if it meant you were going alone. You started tracing your hands all over the dresses Mor gifted you trying to find the perfect one, the dresses were scandalous, but they didn’t shock you, living in Illyrian camps where the warriors and the women most of the time wore outfits that left almost nothing to the imagination you were used to it. You chose a low-cut midnight black dress that showed off your cleavage, your back was bare, and it reached mid-thigh. You pulled your hair in a high ponytail and wore matching midnight black heels. You stared at the mirror, you didn’t mind the scars you had, after one year in the day court they had faded and you only felt stronger now, wearing your scars like a true fighter. You thought of Helion and how he helped you see the scars this way and felt nostalgic, by this time you and him would be sitting on the balcony staring at the city with two glasses of wine. You shook those thoughts away when someone knocked on your door. “Come in” you shouted expecting to see Rhysand, but it was Mor who walked in wearing a similar dress to yours but red. “The house hinted me that you were planning to go get some drinks. Now I can’t say that I’m not a little hurt that you didn’t invite me but anyway would you like some company?” She said with a smirk “Yes I would like that, I just didn’t want to pull anyone of you from your schedules” you replied staring at your feet “nonsense we have to get to know you baby” she winked.

You two walked in the main room heading for the door, when you saw Azriel with that girl sitting on the couch laughing. You noticed how domestic and comfortable they looked, him staring at her eyes with a smile, his hand on the back of the couch behind her and her laughing leaning towards him. What you didn’t expect was that Azriel’s shadows weren’t there around him. He must be so comfortable that he doesn’t need them. You thought. They realized someone had walked in and turned to look at you. You could swear that Azriel took a sharp breath when he saw you, staring at your figure and the way the dress hugged your body.

“We are going out” was all that Mor said offering a tight annoyed smile and she grabbed your hand leading you outside. After you exited the wards, she winnowed you right outside of a place called Rita’s or at least that’s what the sign read.

“What was that?” you asked referring to her annoyance at the couple hoping you weren’t prying.

“Azriel and Elain…. Even though Rhysand ordered Az to stay away he doesn’t.” she replied with a scoff.

“But why?” you were utterly confused.

“Elain is Feyre’s older sister, and she has a mate that is not Azriel. I have so much to tell you, you don’t know anything about us” she replied and excitedly walked you both inside.

After way too many drinks and stories about everyone in the Inner Circle you were in tears some of them caused by sadness after Rhysand’s and Feyre’s story and others from laughter by the whole circus that is called warlord or Cassian or Cassie which was way too funny since he is literally a giant. The reference to the males as bat boys sent you into a fit of laughter and hiccups as you felt your head turning.

“Okay baby you had enough let’s get you back to the house” Mor said laughing. You decided that Mor could be a very good friend of yours and for the first time you felt sad about returning to the day court. Mor winnowed you back to the house and lead you to your room. “Goodnight baby” she said and left. You turned to walk into your room, but your shadows caught your attention they were trying to lead you somewhere so in your drunk state you decided to follow them tripping over your own feet, you managed to reach the balcony in way more time than you would soberly do and there he stood, Azriel in all his glory wearing his Illyrian leathers the moonlight falling on his sharp features, wings tightly tucked behind him staring the city. You know his shadows have already informed him about your arrival, but he doesn’t seem to bother as he keeps his cool stance, only turning his head slightly towards you. You moved beside him grabbing the rail. You stared at the view, the city was alive, laughter ringed in your ears, Sidra has never looked so good, illuminating the city lights and the figures of the people walking by, the moon was shining bright, decorated by the beautiful background of countless stars creating an almost purple colour around the sky. This scene could have jumped out of a painting, you could swear that it will probably be your favourite view, as you imagined this city being your home. You glanced at Azriel’s scarred hands gripping the rail tightly and maybe the alcohol took over but before you could stop yourself you took one of his hands, caressing his scarred skin with your thumb. He tensed and now you had his full attention, those hazel eyes staring deep into your own and his shadows hesitantly rising to cover his hand.

“Never hide your scars Azriel, they show the world that we are fighters” You muttered using your other hand to point at your own scars. His gaze darkened as he stared at the places you pointed to, his eyes lifted and softened when he captured your own in a tense eye contact.

“Who did this to you?” he growled.

“We all have our monsters” you replied and then pointed at his hands with your glance, “who did this to you?” you copied him.

“We all have our monsters” he smirked. You scoffed but he didn’t miss the amusement in your eyes earning a teasing smile. You wondered why he never smiles, he is indeed a stunning male but when he smiles? He looks like something made from an artist’s imagination.

“I wonder what I did to deserve to meet you… sometimes I think the cauldron is playing me” he replied taking a step back, his eyes never leaving yours.

“What do you mean?” you sent him a questioning look.

“I never thought I would meet someone who can understand the pain I’ve been through” he replied and took a seat on the ground his back resting on the wall behind him, his wings relaxed. You followed him taking a seat beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. Your own wings bumping into his but it didn’t bother either of you.

“Show me your monsters shadow singer” you breathed. “I can’t” he paused “they will haunt you forever”. “Will it make a difference? Mine already do” you replied with a sad smile. You felt him tense. “If I could, I would slaughter each one of them”

“How come you’re so open to me today?” you asked curiously.

“You won’t remember anything tomorrow angel” he replied with a chuckle knowing how drunk you are. Your lack of reply made him turn to look at you, he smiled noticing that you were fast asleep on his shoulder. He selfishly wanted to stay there all night but when he felt you shiver from the cold, he picked you in his arms and walked to your room. After taking off your heels and covering you with your duvet he left the room walking into his own, straight into the bathroom splashing cold water on his face. No this can’t be right. Three sisters for three brothers that must be it. He thought as he got ready for bed.

Three sisters for three brothers.

[nerdycanible1]

Am back! :D

Omg guys! Almost forgot I had this ((joking)) but nah seriously! It had been years since I've posted anything here! 💀

Anyways imma go back to my roots!! Y'all remember the days of Legend of Korra where I've only simped for Lin Beifong? 👀 But I've found a new lady, well not really but I've got a new love!!

So y'all remember (if not don't worry about it) the whole genderbent au thing I've created and it was female Tenzin and male Lin and stuff like that? Well I've got some stuff for y'all!

So first and foremost, this is Tenna. She is genderbent Tenzin (female Tenzin). She is literally so hot and I cannot stop drawing her! Currently working on the backstory and this will be nothing like tLoK, actually it will in some places but yes! A lot will be changed!

But look at her! She's gorgeous! 🥺 Also I just wanted to show y'all my improvement of art over the years! QwQ it has improved so much and I'm so proud! Anyways I'll stop rambling and let ya get to the photo!

Tenna: 55 years old

Tenna in swimsuit enjoy 🗿

Side note: Tell me this isn't the most Tenzin expression ever xD

Anyways, my thoughts are simple. Make hot women. :D I am smooth brained and frankly I've been a simp for my genderbent Tenzin for years.

I wanted to update her concept instead of the one I've created years ago (plz forget that 💀) and frankly I love this version better. She looks kind, soft, hot, and first and foremost Tenzin-ish.

What I have for her so far:

She is 51-50 just like Tenzin in tLoK

She has one confirmed boy that I've come up with and one confirmed girl.

Their names are Jin (Jinora) and Ming (Meelo). I haven't come up with anything else for the kids as of yet.

She is pansexual. No discussion on this xD

She is currently in a relationship with Peng (Pema). But ma'am is known to wander around.

Tenna is also more in tune with her nomadic life style instead of the whole business stuff.

Tenna left RC at the ripe age of 16, leaving Ling (Lin) in the process but no hate. It was a mutual break up. Ling wanted to keep RC safe and promised Tenna that everything would still be up and running whenever she wanted to settle down.

Tenna fell in love with an air acolyte (whom I haven't decided to name as of yet) and stayed there for a year before the world called for her once more. It was a short but painful romance, one that Tenna often thinks about.

Once she was back on the road she fell in love with a non bender (Not Peng yet), got pregnant and went to RC for Air Temple Island. She stayed on the island for a few years raising her newborn son Jin.

Ling helped with all he could, being there for Tenna, taking care of her and feeding her and dealing with her grumpiness. He took care of her and once the baby was born, Ling knew he would protect the child as if he were the one to help make the baby.

Tenna couldn't have thanked Ling enough and felt horrible she was "holding him back" from finding his true love. Ling wanted to confess right then and there that he loved her but knew it wasn't the right time.

During the time of the whole pregnancy and the raising of Jin, Ling and Tenna fell into a romance. Stealing kisses, sharing deep secrets, touches that crossed the very thin line of friendship.

It wasn't until Jin started talking and walking that Tenna thought it would be a great time to start exploring the world. Jin barely being the age of 3 or 4. Ling confessed to her that he loves her and that she wished she'd stay for him but told her it was a selfish request. He instead kissed her goodbye and told her to look at the Northern Lights for her on one of her trips. Tenna never felt such sadness and sorrow but she promised to keep in touch. She watched as Ling got smaller and smaller as the boat began to leave the harbor and leave behind her very best friend and lover.

Sorry friends but this is where imma stop it before I bore you! Let me know if you want more Headcanons or if you want more art of this fine wine of a milf!

Send me asks, or ask simply in the comments or Dms about any of this au. I'm happy to reply and I'm excited to say that I'll be posting here regularly soon! And you know of course that there's gonna be more Lin Beifong art so prepare yourselves!

As usual, all art belongs to me. If reposted please credit. Thank you!

[steddieas-shegoes]

Chapter 16

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 / Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11 / Chapter 12 / Chapter 13 / Chapter 14 / Chapter 15

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

Eddie didn’t usually get nervous about meeting people. Even the few times he met parents, he didn’t really expect them to be a forever thing, so it didn’t really matter to him if he made a good impression.

But this was Steve. This was the person he was spending forever with. And despite his clearly complicated relationship with his parents, his mom seemed to mean something to him.

Steve explained their entire conversation on the way to his apartment, his old apartment, the one he hopefully wouldn’t move back into.

If it were up to Eddie, this temporary move to his house would be permanent, but he didn’t want to push. He knew Robin and Steve were close, and that Robin looking for a new roommate may take some time, that Steve wouldn’t want to just leave her with such little notice and no one to cover his half of the rent.

The closer they got to the apartment, the more nervous Eddie became.

Steve looked over at him when they stopped at a red light, brows furrowed in concern.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“Nothing, my love,” he brushed it off, kept his face forward so he wouldn’t fall for the puppy dog eyes Steve gave him to get what he wanted.

“You know, my mom isn’t that bad. I don’t get along with her all the time, but she is definitely the lesser of two evils when it comes to my parents.”

“Mhm. Just wanna make sure you’re okay with everything.”

Steve was quiet for a moment, the soft tones of a song he didn’t recognize playing on the radio.

“You know it’s okay to be worried about yourself, Eds. I’m feeling…well, not great, but kind of positive about this? I know it could turn into nothing, but my mom is kind of relentless when she’s set on something and it doesn’t sound like she’s gonna give up until I have my job back.”

Steve’s hand settled on Eddie’s knee, providing him a comfort he didn’t realize he needed.

Eddie often found comfort in putting others’ needs first, that’s what made him a good dom, a good friend, a good person. But even he needed to take a break from that sometimes. He knew it, he just didn’t actually do it.

“I’m mostly worried about you, but I am a little worried about meeting your mom. There, is that better?” Eddie asked with a small smile.

“Yes. She always comes off scarier than she is. All yip, no bite, or whatever the saying is,” Steve said confidently.

Eddie loved him. God, he loved him so much.

He watched as Steve bobbed his head along to the music, his hand remaining on Eddie’s knee and tapping his fingers, though he was completely off beat.

Eddie loved him so much, it felt like a part of him was always going to hear Steve’s name and associate it with comfort and home.

Steve pulled into his usual parking spot, sighing as he parked.

“Just don’t take any offense to what she says. She has no filter and forgets that people have feelings. I barely listen to anything she says anymore.”

Steve sounded nervous suddenly, maybe even more than Eddie had been on the way here.

Eddie turned, cupped his face in his hands, and kissed his nose.

“I’m here to support you, protect you. I want her to help you. I don’t care if she likes me or is rude to me, it’s about you being happy.”

“Eds, I don’t want her to upset you. Please just don’t let her scare you away.”

“Sunshine, I’m not goin’ anywhere, especially not because of your mom being a little mean to me. Your my home, and I’m yours, right?”

He felt Steve relax into his hands, a fond smile taking over his face.

“Yeah, baby, you are.”

“Then let’s go see your mom.”

—----------------------------------------

Robin was standing at the front door as soon as he opened it, her eyes begging him to do literally anything to help.

He almost laughed.

Almost.

But then he heard his mother, presumably on the phone with someone, and he decided he probably should be easy on her.

“Who’s she talking to?”

“It’s been someone new every five minutes since she got off the phone with you. I think this one is your father, but I’m not sure because she talks to everyone the exact same, which is like they are specks of dirt on the bottom of her shoe.” Robin rolled her eyes and turned to Eddie with a smile. “Hi, Eddie.”

“Hi, Robbie. Gonna make it?”

“Hard to say. I hope so.”

They gave each other quick hugs, an exchange of wordless support, and Eddie felt a bit better. If Robin could handle Steve’s mom, he certainly could.

“Richard, I don’t give a shit and a half if you think I’m babying him. He’s our son. He didn’t do anything wrong and he’s being punished. Our job is to help people who don’t do anything wrong and are being punished. I’ll be better off without your help, but I refuse to let you make empty threats at me or him.”

“You guys stay here,” Steve muttered, making his way into the kitchen to talk to his mom.

“I have to go. You can go fuck yourself or the newest woman who has to fake it through a few minutes in bed with you to get a new diamond bracelet.”

Anne Harrington did not fuck around. Steve could admit to himself that it was probably the best part about her.

“Oh, good, you’re home. I’ve contacted the school to let them know any future interviews involving you will also have me present. Any paperwork sent to you or requiring a signature will be reviewed by me first. I’ve already been sent the paperwork you signed, which will not hold up in court because all parties involved in the case are supposed to sign it and only you signed it. You work for a school system that doesn’t seem to understand basic law, which is concerning since they’re opening themselves up to a hell of a lawsuit.”

“It’s nice to see you, Mom.”

Anne sighed, releasing the weight of the world from her shoulders, and pulled him into a hug.

They were never a touchy family, not even when Steve was a small child. But every once in a while, usually during the most stressful times, his mom would pull him into a hug that actually felt like the type of hug a mother would give her kid.

“What a pickle this is,” she said against his shoulder, a solid six inches shorter than him, but always bigger than her body when she spoke.

“I know. Thanks for helping.”

“No need to thank me, it’s gonna be easy to handle. Now! Where’s the boyfriend?”

“Uh. With Robin.”

“Let’s go get this out of the way, then,” she said as she pulled away from him, her face back to the stern look he’d walked in on.

“Just be easy, please. He-”

“Steven, I know what it looks like when you’re happy. I know I rarely was around to see it, but it’s easy to see the glow, even with all this stress happening around you. He makes you feel loved?”

“Every second of every day.”

“Then he won’t have to worry about me unless that changes,” she said as she walked out to the living room.

Anne walked up to Eddie, his eyes wide as he took her in.

“Edward Munson. Nice to meet you. I’m Anne Harrington. I am certain I like you just fine, but let’s get right to it: my son is all that matters to me right now and if you get in his way of getting his job back or me doing my job, you will never step foot near him again, understood?”

Steve rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the blush creeping across his cheeks. His mom had never been this protective of him, not even in high school when one of his friends tried to drag him into a legal issue with another basketball player.

“And if I ever get in the way of his happiness and future, I hope you would do whatever you can to protect him,” Eddie responded.

Anne studied him for a moment, looking him up and down and trying to figure out what her response should be.

She nodded once, turned to Steve, gave him a wink, and then looked back at Eddie.

“Let’s get Steve his job back.”

—----------------------------------------

The next three days were endless meetings with his mom, the school, and the school board.

Steve was instructed not to open his mouth except to give the same answers he’d already given, let Anne do most of the talking otherwise, keep his head up and appear confident that he’d done the right thing.

He had done the right thing, so it was easy to do.

Every moment he got with Eddie was special, his mom taking the guest room of the house and making it difficult for them to have any time alone.

But they still stole away in the evenings, when his mom decided to take a break from everything and shower and read her book for a bit. Eddie and Steve would take a bath together, Eddie washing Steve, Steve washing Eddie, touching every inch of each other with reverence as they silenced the moans with their mouths.

It wasn’t enough, but it would have to do for a while.

Steve cooked them breakfast every morning, Eddie wrapped his arms around his waist and rocked side to side, humming a song Steve didn’t know.

Eddie went to the shop while Steve stayed home and made sure his mom had everything she needed to do her job. He would bring Eddie a late lunch to take a break, and his mom would often go find a restaurant she deemed tolerable so she could enjoy a “decent salad, nobody makes a decent salad anymore, Steven.”

By the time dinner came around, Steve was feeling too much, and he had no way to feel better about it until Eddie got home.

Eddie would just know.

He’d pull him against his chest, run his hands up and down his back for a minute, then tug on his hair just right, just the way Steve craved.

It wasn’t enough to float, not even enough to drift a bit on the edge, but it was enough to make him feel like Eddie knew what he needed and would help as soon as he could.

“Your mom in the kitchen?” Eddie whispered against his head.

“Mhm.”

“She okay?”

“Yeah. Said we should be hearing anytime now about everything.”

“Did you talk about her treatments yet?”

Steve shook his head against Eddie’s chest.

“She doesn’t want to?”

Steve shook his head again.

“Want me to ask?”

“No. I just want you to be here with me when I do. Is that okay?”

“Of course it is, sunshine,” Eddie kissed the top of his head and pulled away so he could head into the kitchen to start making dinner.

It was smooth, or at least as smooth as it could be with an extra person in the house who was toeing the line between welcome and nuisance.

Eddie was making steak salad tonight, at his mom’s request, because he was incredible and a small part of Steve loved seeing that Eddie was doing whatever it took to keep her happy, to keep the peace between them.

“Hi, Anne. How’s today been?” Eddie asked as he moved towards the fridge to pull everything out to start prepping.

“It’s been another day, Edward. How was your day?”

“Had another first tattoo today. Those are always interesting,” he sent a knowing look to Steve, who was shaking his head slowly.

“Oh? Do you get them often?”

“Honestly, no. Steve was my first first in a while. This was a friend of a friend who only trusted me to do it.”

Steve froze.

Somehow, Steve had managed to hide his tattoos from his mom the entire time. He’d been wearing Eddie’s hoodies around the house and long sleeve shirts and blazers or jackets for the meetings.

Eddie must have realized what happened as he turned to see Anne’s eyes searching Steve’s visible skin.

“You have a tattoo?”

“I have two.”

“Steven, tattoos aren’t very professional for your line of work.”

Eddie was standing at attention now, ready to step in the moment Steve needed him, but waiting for a signal of any kind.

“I got them in places that can be hidden. You haven’t seen them the entire time.”

“What could you possibly have gotten tattooed?”

“Will made me a sun painting and I decided I wanted it as a tattoo. Eddie did it on my wrist. Then I got a robin done.”

“This is the Will that you helped?”

“Yes.”

“Can I see?”

Her voice was much gentler now, almost too kind compared to what Steve was used to when she was disappointed in him.

Steve rolled the sleeve of his hoodie up, holding it out towards his mom as she sat at the table.

She took his wrist and turned it back and forth as she looked at the sun.

“He’s quite talented,” she said softly.

“He is.”

“I’m proud of you, Steve.”

Steve’s heart stopped, his eyes widened, and he felt his eyes flood with tears.

His parents had never said that to him, not when he made the varsity basketball team a year earlier than most people do, not when they won a championship, not when he made swim team captain as a junior, not when he graduated high school, not ever.

He’d stopped expecting to hear it eventually, especially when he’d cut himself off from them.

But some part of him, probably his inner child who had craved hearing those words for his entire life, felt incredibly overwhelmed at the way his mother was looking at him with tears in her eyes.

He distantly heard Eddie walk out of the room, and he struggled with the combination of feelings of relief and anxiety knowing that he wasn’t right there.

“I’m sorry I don’t tell you more, or ever, I guess. I know you’ve deserved to hear it so much. I guess-” she took a shaky breath. “I guess it was easier for me to pretend I wasn’t proud because I had no hand in your accomplishments. It was selfish of me to think that way, and I know that no amount of apologies will make up for it, but I let my job and your father dictate my entire life to the point that I forgot my son needed me.”

“Mom-”

“Let me finish first, please,” she held her hand up to stop him. “As I’ve been working on this entire situation, I’ve read through the interviews the school board conducted with Will, with his mom, with his brother, with other students, with the principal. Everyone loves you, everyone is on your side. Your own principal said the school would never be the same if you weren’t given another chance, that they would never find anyone as valuable as you are. The place I went to lunch the other day saw my last name and asked if I was related to you, and when I told them I was your mom, they gave me lunch for free because you helped the owner rebuild his shed when a snowstorm collapsed the roof last winter. And Eddie. Honey, that boy looks at you like you’re his sun. I cannot believe you’ve only been together a couple weeks. I don’t think I’ve ever felt the way you two feel about each other. Robin wanted to kill me when I walked into your apartment, and I assume it’s because she knows I haven’t ever been a good mom to you, and she’s right for wanting to protect you like that. I was never around to protect you, and probably caused more pain than anything, and I will spend as much time as it takes to try to make up for it.”

Steve was crying, the tears running down his face, soaking his hoodie, his vision so blurry he could barely even see that his mother was crying, too.

She stood up and pulled him against her, her head resting against his shoulder, his head resting against the top of her head.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” she sobbed into his hoodie, her voice muffled but still audible.

“Why wasn’t I enough to be proud of?” Steve asked, his voice breaking.

“Oh, darling, you were. I promise you were. This isn’t anything you did wrong, or didn’t do well enough, this is all me failing you. You deserved to know I was proud of you, but I didn’t stop to think about how much not telling you would hurt you. That was my fault, not yours., you understand?”

Steve nodded, letting out another sob.

Suddenly, Eddie’s hand was on his lower back, and Steve’s body instantly relaxed.

“Sorry to interrupt, but your phone keeps ringing, and I figured it must be important if they keep trying,” Eddie said quietly, softly, the gentlest interruption he could possibly have made to their moment.

Steve pulled away sniffling, wiping his eyes as his mother did the same.

He reached for his phone, a new set of vibrations alerting him to another phone call.

“Hello?” Steve answered, hoping his voice didn’t give away the emotions of the last 15 minutes.

“Mr. Harrington, so sorry to keep calling like this, but I wanted to make sure to reach you before the school board official called.”

Principal Graves’ voice sounded excited, barely containing something that Steve hoped was good news.

“Is everything okay?”

“They’re going to be calling with the scheduled hearing for all parties involved today. They only do this when they’re pretty sure about reinstating someone, so I have a very good feeling you’ll be coming back to work within the next week.”

Steve started crying again.

Eddie and his mom looked at him concerned, but he gave them a wet smile to show that he was okay.

“I’ll get to talk to Will there?”

“This is why you’re the only person qualified for this job. The person filling in for you doesn’t believe in weekly sessions with students, says it causes students to become too attached to the counselor and services. I can’t wait to see her go. You didn’t hear that from me though.”

Steve let out a laugh, his tears finally slowing down, and his head falling to rest on Eddie’s shoulder.

“I miss my kids,” Steve admitted, closing his eyes when Eddie’s hand rubbed up and down his back comfortingly.

“They miss you. We all do. We owe a lot to your mother for how quickly this has turned in your favor. This could have gone on for another month at the rate they wanted to do things. She’s an impressive woman.”

Steve watched as his mother sat back down at the table to write something down in her notes with a smile.

“Yeah, she is.”

He wrapped up the call so he could be available for the school board call, thanking the principal multiple times for her help. He knew she struggled with filing a report at all, that she was only doing her job.

When he hung up, he explained everything to Eddie and his mom, getting interrupted halfway through by a kiss from Eddie, their teeth clacking together because of the broad smiles on both their faces.

When the call from the school board came through, Steve was sitting on the couch while Eddie prepared dinner in the kitchen, having a casual conversation with his mom while she worked at the dining room table.

On Monday, his entire future would be decided, and hopefully, he’d be back in his office to make a difference.

—------------------------------

When Monday came, Robin and Chrissy met Eddie and Steve at the school board office an hour early.

“Your mom coming?”

“She had a phone call with her doctor this morning so she should be here soon,” Steve said.

They’d talked over dinner a few nights before about her treatments, and how she had been putting it off for work, but also putting it off because she was scared. Steve told her she had to take care of herself, that her health needed to take priority, and if she needed to have support through it, he would be there.

Eddie took it a step further, and offered her the guest room during her treatments so she didn’t have to be alone.

Steve loved him so much.

“Should we wait inside?” Chrissy asked, holding onto Robin’s hand.

“You guys go in. I just wanna talk to Steve for a second,” Eddie said, wrapping his arm around Steve’s waist.

Chrissy smirked, but didn’t say anything as she guided Robin inside.

Steve turned to Eddie, nervous smile on his face.

“What is it, baby?”

“I just wanted to say that no matter what, I’m in this with you. We’ll figure it out if things don’t go as planned, and nothing with us is going to change. You’re an incredible person and counselor, sunshine, and if they can’t see that, they don’t deserve you,” Eddie pecked his lips quickly to emphasize his words.

“Thank you, Eds. I love you.”

“I love you, sweetheart.”

With one more quick kiss, they parted, and made their way inside to find the room the hearing would take place in.

When they found it, the Byers were already there, and Will looked ready to vibrate out of his seat when he noticed Steve walk in.

He looked to Joyce, silently begging for permission to go to Steve. When she nodded with a smile, Will shot up out of his seat, nearly tripping on his own feet to run towards him.

Steve nearly fell backwards with the force of the hug, Will’s arms wrapping around him as he let out a sob. Eddie held them both up as Steve found his balance again, smiling down at them.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything to anyone. Mom’s trying to put together a fund for you so you can still pay your bills and Jonathan booked a show and the band is gonna give up their money from it to help you. And I made you a painting, but I couldn’t give it to you because Mom said it would possibly be worse if we tried to talk to you while they did everything. And I hate the new counselor, she’s terrible. She said if I need weekly services I should see a therapist and didn’t understand that we can’t afford one, that’s why I talk to you, but she just kept saying there are ‘resources for people in poverty’ which, we know, but they’re terrible and there’s a long wait list or else I would have already tried and-”

“Woah, buddy. Take a deep breath.” Steve helped him take a couple deep breaths and smiled down at Will. “It’s gonna be okay. Even if today doesn’t go well, I can still help you somehow. And you don’t have to worry about the money, you guys are amazing, but I’m doing fine.”

“Mom brought you a check already today. You can’t leave without it.”

Steve shook his head.

“Keep it. Use it for art supplies or something. I’ve got my bills paid and if today goes well, I’ll be back to work very soon.”

Will looked like he wanted to continue to argue, but Anne walked in, followed by Principal Graves and a few school board officials that Steve recognized as the interviewers for the case.

“You must be Will,” Anne said as she walked up to them.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, don’t do that. I fear I’m looking much older than I wish to these days and that doesn’t help. I’m Mr. Harrington’s mom, Anne.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Anne.”

“You’re an outstanding artist, Will. I’d love to commission you for a piece for my office when you are done with school for the year.”

Will’s jaw dropped, and Steve couldn’t help the little giggle he let out.

His mother had only told him about that plan the day before, and he wholeheartedly agreed with it.

“Like, for money?”

“Of course. We’ll discuss it more when we get past this little bump in the road, okay?”

Will nodded, his mouth still open in shock.

“Attention everyone, please take your seats so we may begin,” a loud, deep voice echoed through the room.

Everyone followed instructions quickly, silent agreement that this needed to be over with as soon as possible.

Steve was nervous. He’d done okay up until this point, relying on his mom to explain technical things to him and Eddie to help him stay grounded and relaxed as much as possible.

But neither of them could do that now. Now, it was up to everyone at the front of the room to make a decision, a decision they probably already made, that would determine if Steve left here with a job or without one.

“As all of you know, I am the lead official investigator for this case, Mr. Hammond. We have spent many days conducting individual interviews with all parties present, as well as group interviews and other individual interviews with students and teachers at the school. We are here today to allow both sides to state anything they may have left out during interviews before we make our final recommendation on Mr. Harrington’s employment.” He cleared his throat before turning to look at Joyce and Will. “We will begin with you both. You are not required to add anything, but if you feel there is anything else you’d like to say, now is your chance.”

Will stood up immediately.

“I’d like to say something, please.”

The group in front nodded.

“Mr. H has been the best thing about school for me. He’s helped me really feel comfortable with myself, and helped me make new friends, and helped me understand that my art can be special to me and can provide a future for me if I try hard enough. No other counselor or teacher has ever been there like he has. My grades have suffered since he was sent home,” he sighed. Steve didn’t know that, and he felt anger rise up as he thought of the counselor in his place turning Will away while he struggled. “I haven’t been able to focus on my portfolio. I get encouragement from my mom, but she works hard and sometimes it’s just nice for someone who isn’t related to me to offer their support. Mr. H was that support for me, and no matter what decision you make today, I know he will do his best to still give it to me in whatever way he can.”

“Thank you, Will.” A woman next to Mr. Hammond gave him a smile. “Anything else?”

“No, thank you.”

Will sat down and Joyce hugged him, whispering something into his ear that no one could hear.

“Mr. Harrington, now is your chance to speak. You may say anything you wish to discuss your actions.”

Steve looked at Anne, who nodded at him encouragingly. They’d agreed the day before that she would only step in if things got ugly, and it seemed calm enough that he could speak on his own.

“Thank you,” he said as he stood. “I believe I spoke a lot during my interviews about how much my students, not just Will, mean to me. I got into this profession because I want to be a support for kids who may not always have it. That isn’t to say Ms. Byers doesn’t support him, but she’s a hardworking single mom, and it does take a village to raise a child, as we all know. When I first met Will, he barely spoke to anyone, he was barely passing his classes, and he was on his way to being a statistic that doesn’t look good for the community, the school, or himself. After a few sessions, he started opening up a bit more to me, and I saw a major improvement in his grades. He started making friends, he started becoming more involved in school activities like art club, and even got encouraged to apply for an elite art program. As you all are aware, his mother barely makes enough money to pay the necessary bills, and an art program like the one Will deserves to be a part of requires a lot of funding just to apply. He came to me as a trusted person to ask for help, which is something we encourage all students to do without fear of punishment. Instead of that happening, he was punished. I was punished as well, and trust me, it’s been difficult, but this entire time, I’ve been worried more about the impact this will have on Will.”

Steve looked over at Will, who was wiping tears from his face.

“My boyfriend Eddie was the one offering financial assistance. If you remember, he knew the Byers before we were even together. He knows what Will is capable of and didn’t want him to lose out on a big opportunity for his future because of a couple hundred dollars. I supported them because Will deserves it. If our job is to care for these kids, and make sure they have bright futures, then that’s what we did. Punishing any of us for it seems like the opposite of what our mission is. It’s been a privilege to be able to provide Will, and many other students, a safe place to be themselves, and I hope to continue to do that in this school.”

Steve sat down before anyone responded, his mom squeezing his shoulder and Eddie taking his hand.

“Thank you, Mr. Harrington. If you would give us all a few minutes to deliberate in the other room, we will be back shortly,” Mr. Hammond said seriously.

As they filed out, Steve’s nerves grew exponentially.

His legs were bouncing up and down until Eddie’s hands were on his knees, putting pressure on them to keep them still.

“Look at me, Stevie. That’s it, good boy,” Eddie whispered to him. Anne was busy speaking with Joyce and Will, so they were practically alone. “You did amazing. They’d be idiots not to reinstate you. If you’re not back in your office tomorrow, I’ll move us to another school district so you can find a new job. Will can come, too.”

Steve let out a small giggle at the thought of moving their entire lives just so he could have another chance to be a counselor somewhere.

“Everyone here knows you did the right thing. That’s what matters most. We’re all proud of you.”

Steve nodded.

He looked behind him at Robin and Chrissy, who both waved when he looked back, their hands still clasped between them.

He sat silently for a few minutes, looking down at his lap, trying to believe Eddie’s words, but not get his hopes up too much in case things went badly.

The door opened.

The group walked in.

No one’s face gave anything away.

Steve’s nerves grew, but Eddie’s hand in his kept him here.

“Thank you for your patience,” Mr. Hammond stated. “At this time, will Mr. Harrington please stand?”

Steve stood, his legs wobbling slightly as he let go of Eddie’s hand.

He felt every eye on him.

“Mr. Harrington, you understand that this has all been following a very strict policy in regards to confidentiality and personal relationships with students?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You understand it was our responsibility to fully investigate all claims made to ensure the safety of the student in question?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You understand that reinstatement of your position will still show this investigation on your record?”

Steve heard Will cheering before he truly registered what was being said.

“I’m sorry?”

Mr. Hammond smirked. The rest of the group was smiling at him.

“You’ve been reinstated as of today. You may resume your position as guidance counselor as early as tomorrow. Please keep in mind any future claims will require an immediate suspension of duties. Please stay here while the paperwork is drawn up for signatures. Thank you all for your cooperation.” Mr. Hammond turned to Will. “And good luck to you, Will. Your art is quite spectacular and deserves a place in that art program.”

“Thank you!” Will said, maybe a bit too loudly for the location and occasion, but it just made everyone let out laughs at his excitement.

Eddie was suddenly pulling him into his arms, kissing the top of his head and saying so many lovely things that Steve could barely hear.

“You’re incredible, oh my God, I’m so happy for you,” he whispered into his ear before Anne got in between them.

“Let me hug my son!” She said half-jokingly. Eddie let him go so he could be enveloped in his mom’s arms. “I’m so proud of you, honey. I knew you’d be fine.”

“Probably not without you,” Steve admitted.

“Maybe, maybe not. Important thing is you get to go back to work and make a difference for these kids, right?”

He nodded and then got wrapped up in Robin’s arms.

“You did it dingus! You get to be back with the rugrats!” She was bouncing up and down, making the hug a bit awkward, but Steve was used to her energy.

“Congrats, Steve. I’m so happy for you,” Chrissy added from behind her.

Steve felt loved.

So many people came to support him, to show him that no matter what decision was made, they were on his side. That he mattered.

But he didn’t really start crying until Will was hugging him again, thanking him over and over again for being the best and for not giving up and for caring so much.

He let Will sit next to him while he signed all the paperwork, his mom reviewing everything before he did so.

Will was telling him all about the piece he started working on in art club, and how he thought it was good enough for his portfolio, but kind of wanted to get his opinion first. Steve listened, unable to stop smiling at his excitement.

It was contagious, the excitement.

Everyone in the room seemed to feel it, all of them practically bouncing in place as they waited for Steve to finish.

When he did, Anne took everyone out to a celebratory brunch, bribed Joyce to keep Will out of school for the whole day with the promise of the best mimosas she’s ever had.

As Steve rode home after in the passenger seat of Eddie’s car, he looked down at his sun tattoo.

Somehow, despite every cloud in the way, he was still shining.

“You okay, sunshine?” Eddie was looking over at him out of the corner of his eye, a smile pretty much permanently plastered on his face since the decision was made.

“I’m perfect,” he replied.

He’d never been perfect before. He’d never thought perfect was attainable.

But perfect to him wasn’t the lack of problems or imperfections, it was knowing that even with them, he was happy.

He felt bright. He felt warm. And with Eddie next to him, he felt like the sun.

epilogue

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[horseshoegirl]

Damn Those Dog Tags - Part 4: Long Cool Woman In a Black Dress

AN: I won my battle with writer's block! (Thank you, @tinytotontheoversizedpony!)

It's a little self-fulling to use this song as a fic title, but hey, it fits the vibe.

I think you're going to like this one 👀💛

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❗️18+, strong language, alcohol mentions, sexual themes, godmother reader/original female character, Original child character.

#4.7K Words

Part 3 | Masterlist | Part 5

Fridays seemed to be the worst day of the week. That was your current mood as you smoothed down the corners of your dress and straightened your leather jacket, making your way up the steps of the Child Protective Services building. 

They told you they wanted to meet to review some information, whatever the hell that meant. With the paperwork, or there was a stipulation in Ridley’s Will or worse, someone wanted to take her away from you. The nerves in the pit of your stomach were on fire with the idea something was wrong.  

And you received the request on one of the few days you could actually pick Sadie up from school. The minute you hung up your phone and pressed the edge of it to your forehead, you thumped lightly against your skin, thinking it would will away the uneasiness settling in your stomach. 

“Ah, pity, I was hoping Bradley was picking Sadie up today.” 

‘Oh, please tell me you didn’t, Bradley, ’ you thought upon hearing that voice. Forcing a smile, which you were sure looked more like a grimace, you turned to face what you believed to be the Regina George of all elementary school moms. 

“Hello, Courtney.” 

Courtney Slack, the one mom in the school who made it her business to know everyone’s business. A blonde bombshell always dressed to the nines, who always had a comment, a thing or a statement to say about everyone and everything thing. The leader of the PTA association and the mom of the girl who bullied Sadie on her first day of school. 

You’d be having words with Bradley the next time you saw him. 

“Still single, I see?” she snarked. “Shame Sadie doesn’t have a strong father figure to look up to.” 

Oh, you’d already be thrashing her into the pavement if you were a violent person. You were about to make a remark about Sadie’s numerous Uncles who literally risked their lives to make sure someone like her could live out her days being a bitch, before someone came up beside you. 

“Still sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, Courtney?” Alyssa suddenly pipped up next to you. Alyssa, a single mother of a boy named Will around Sadie’s age, was one of the first people to introduce herself when Sadie first arrived at the school. Sadie instantly took a liking to Will, and you liked Alyssa the second you met her. 

She was uncaring of what people thought of her, pulling up in punky Doc Martins and patched-up jean jackets to student-teacher conferences and school events. She saved you from what you both liked to call Courtney’s group, the “Vanderpump Vulture Moms,” on your first school bake sale, Bob and Nat helping you stay up late one night to frost the hell out of a few dozen cupcakes. 

“Can’t I take an interest in who my children go to school with?” 

“Well, it looks like you need to go collect your spawn,” She coughed, “I mean, child from the playground. I believe he’s interested in shoving a stone up a kid’s nose.” 

Failing miserably to hold in your snickers at the look on Courtney’s face, you watched as she turned frantically to find her son before calling his name and running off in hysterics. Alyssa gave in first, barely hanging on to her resolve and toppling over in laughter. You couldn’t help but join her, lulling your nerves for a moment with being able to laugh. 

After a few seconds, she touched your shoulder, “I heard your phone call. I’m sure it’s nothing, maybe a follow-up to ensure everything is okay.” 

You shook your head, looking at the kids exiting the recess doors. 

“I just got her. It could be anything from a check-in to a notice of whatever they want to do with her. Rarely do they care about the kids.” 

You spied Sadie’s lime green backpack amongst the crowd. Will was not far behind as they searched for the pair of you. They liked to race each other out the door to see who could get to you first. When she did reach you, she almost always knocked you flat onto the pavement, hugging you. You eagerly returned her hug but frowned when she kept burying her head into your stomach when you went to pull back.

“What’s wrong, Bug?” 

“We have a surprise project due on Monday,” Will sighed next to you. Sadie pulled back, nodding at him, clearly upset at the thought she might have to do homework over a weekend. 

“We’re going to miss our last hike, Aunt Liz,” She pouted. 

This weekend was your last chance for a hike until the Spring. While Miramar didn’t really see snow, the weather had started turning slightly cooler. Soon enough, the bugs wouldn’t be out for Sadie to find. With the unexpected visit to CPS, she would no doubt have to miss it. 

“And my hockey game,” Will echoed, dropping his head with a frown.  

Alyssa ruffled Will’s hair, smiling down at Sadie. “Why don’t you come over tomorrow after school? You can set up at the dining table and do your project with pizza.” 

You gave Alyssa a grateful look, mouthing ‘Thank you’ as Sadie and Will excitedly started planning how they would tackle their assignment so they could do their respective activities. 

Alyssa shrugged, waving her hand. “Go figure out what they want, and don’t worry about her. We’ll ensure that assignment gets done for your hike and Will’s Hockey Game.”

So, while Sadie worked over at Will and Alyssa’s to finish her project, you tried to calm your nerves as you waited at the reception desk to check in for the appointment. 

They made you wait for what you thought was hours, but it couldn’t have been more than 15 minutes. You did everything from bouncing your leg to circling your thumbs to scrolling aimlessly on your phone until they finally called your name.

You were ushered into a stuffy office room, papers hazardously placed in manila file folders strung across the room. An older woman, Mrs. Kirkland, from her nameplate, had several precariously stacked on top of one another on her desk. She reminded you of your old high school librarian, peering at you over the top rim of her glasses when you coughed under your breath to get her attention. 

“Ms. Beck,” she gestured to the fold-out chair in front of her. You quickly removed your jacket, hooking it on the back of the chair before sitting down.  

She smiled at you before glancing at her laptop, asking, “How’s Sadie doing?” 

“Better. She’s adjusting well to her new school and seems to love science.” 

“That’s wonderful,” She didn’t bother looking up as she spoke, typing something away at her computer. You watched her type, suddenly meeting her eyes as she peered up at you, looking up and down your body before inquiring, “And yourself?” 

“It’s been hard without my sister, but my friends have supported me.” 

“Hmm,” she replied. “No man in your life?” 

Ugh, why did every older woman you meet like to comment on the fact that you were still single? 

“Just the two of us, I’m afraid,” you smiled politely. “What is it you wanted to speak about?” 

“Right,” she said, reaching down into her file cabinet to pull out a small folder. “A request was made to look into Sadie’s file.” 

The ball forming in your throat for the past twenty-four hours dropped into your stomach. “What does that mean?” 

“Well, our review process covers everything from the legitimacy of her birth mother’s Will to the handover of her guardianship. We have no complaints against you as her guardian, and we have on record you cared for Sadie greatly while you lived with your sister.” 

You swallowed hard. “Yes, that’s correct.” 

“So, this is just to ensure everything is in order and nothing was missed. Generally, the process takes a few weeks, but upon looking at this, I suspect our auditors won’t find anything out of place.” 

“Why would someone request this? Is it something internal you guys do?” 

Ms. Kirkland shuffled a few papers in her hand, reading what was on the page before replying, “I’m afraid this was external. Your sister was very thorough with her paperwork, so we did not need to do an internal review.” 

Everything about this was odd. You had no family left. What was the point of making sure her paperwork was in order? Ridley always wanted Sadie with you and nobody at the time, and after her death, wanted to challenge it. 

“I’m assuming you cannot tell me who requested you look into her file?”

“I’m afraid I cannot say who, only that the request came in two weeks ago.” 

Ridley’s townhouse sold two weeks ago, you thought. This was screaming more was going on than just a simple review. 

“As we have no more concerns, you are free to go. We just needed to inform you of the request.” 

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you dug your nails into your legs instead, reaching to grab your bag off the floor. “And you couldn’t have explained this over a phone call?” 

“I’m afraid it’s our policy to do these things in person to avoid miscommunication.” 

You sighed, standing up and grabbing your jacket from the back of your chair. “Can you let me know when this is resolved?” 

“Of course.” 

You resisted the urge to slam the door as you exited the office and the building. While you knew deep down they wouldn’t find anything wrong with the paperwork or Ridley’s Will, you were still worried about who exactly put in the request.

Even with the anxiety racing through your veins as you raced back down the front steps to your car, eager to escape the miserable place, you couldn’t help but grumble out, “Policy, my ass.”

_______

Seeing you at the Hard Deck outside of work, unless you were with one of the Daggers, was unusual. But your nerves were on fire, you were dying for a drink, and you desperately wanted to confide in Penny. 

It wasn’t as busy as it should have been for a Friday after four, but the music playing from the Jukebox did wonders for the atmosphere.  You spied Jake and Coyote at the back by the dartboard in their service khakis as soon as you walked in, Coyote attempting to throw a few darts while Jake was off to the side chatting with a brunette in just too tight of a light blue dress.

You couldn’t fault her for the blush staining her cheeks as she peered up at him. Jake used his looks to his advantage to get what he wanted. Arms flexed, cocky smirk, getting up and close into her personal space. She was buying it, given how close she angled herself toward him. 

Women really did fall into the palm of his hand, you thought.  

She embodied everything you figured you weren’t. The type to have it all figured out, not juggling school events, sports games, and pick-up times. She didn’t have long nights closing at the bar or trying to find someone to watch Sadie every week. Not that you would trade it for anything in the world. 

She was the type you’d imagine someone like Jake would finally end up with. Even if he was chatting her up to be the next name on his bedpost, you struggled to force out the idea that they looked good standing next to each other. Hot people went out with hot people, right?

You didn’t know whether you wanted to roll your eyes or pay attention to the ache in your chest. 

Penny smiled as you sat down but frowned upon seeing your face. 

“Can I get a glass of Whiskey, Penny? Neat, please.” 

She eyed you concerned, reaching down to grab a bottle of Jack Daniels and a glass. “You're not one to pop by for a drink?” 

“Somebody requested Sadie’s file to be looked into at CPS.” You threaded your fingers through your hair, locking them behind your head as you rest your elbows on the bar. 

Penny widened her eyes, placing the glass down in front of you. “Please tell me she’s staying with you?” 

You looked up and nodded. “I’m fine. They needed to notify me it happened.” 

“Can they tell you who?” 

“Nope,” you replied curtly before reaching for the glass and bringing it to your lips. The liquid burned, and you resisted the urge to cough. 

“I bet it's the school. Or one of the parents at the school.” 

Courtney’s face briefly popped into your head at Penny’s words, but you quickly shot it down. While she might be horrible, she wasn’t capable or invested in causing trouble. You shrugged. 

“Or Sadie’s bio Dad?” 

You frowned. Ridley always admitted getting involved with Tyler was a terrible idea, save for gifting her Sadie. He was, for all pretense, a dick. You had yet to meet someone who was his equal. From the stories you heard about how he was before they became a permanent team, not even Jake could top this guy’s attitude on a bad day. Tyler was pure malice. 

He wanted nothing to do with Sadie the moment Ridley found out. She had ensured you were listed as Sadie’s guardian the moment she was born, Tyler and his family written out of any responsibility or entitlements. You wouldn’t be surprised to learn if they tried to buy her off to save Tyler’s chances of making a career in Football, not that he really had any. 

“He wanted nothing to do with her when Ridley was pregnant, and I doubt Cathy and Dean want to be caring grandparents this late in the game.” 

They were some of the worst people in the world. You could gratefully count the number of times you had to deal with them on one hand. Sadie would never have to, not if you had your way. 

“Either way, I don’t think he’d get anywhere near Sadie if he wanted to.” 

Penny smiled fondly. “Bradley would be first in line to throw a punch.” 

You shook your head. “Don’t forget about Nat.” 

“I think Pete might try to get one in too.” 

You giggled with Penny at the thought. Mav would go to bat for Sadie in a heartbeat. 

“Lizzie!” 

You turned around on your bar stool to see Coyote waving you over, the leggy brunette gone, and Jake taking Javy’s place throwing darts. 

“Be careful with those two,” Penny said with a smirk, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

Resisting the urge to frown, you simply picked up your drink while standing up, throwing over your shoulder, “You know I can take care of myself.”

________

“Yo, there’s Lizzie,” Coyote said, tapping Jake’s arm while watching you enter the Hard Deck and walk towards an empty stool. Jake turned his head in the middle of his conversation at the mention of your name, catching the side of your face as you greeted Penny.

The two of you had finished the dishes discussing your shared taste in music that night. You credited Ridley as the one who got you into 80s music - telling him the Jean Jacket had been hers, sharing how the three of you got lost coming home from a hike while she was visiting with Sadie, stumbling into that thrift store hoping for directions. He could recall you laughing when you told him she freaked out so hard in the store the owner practically gave it to her for free. 

While he’d never get the chance to, he wished he could thank Ridley for finding that Jacket. You didn’t judge him for his call-sign story as he suspected you would. Instead, you listened. You emphasized. You gave him credit for trying. And as everyone went to leave, you didn’t protest hugging him goodbye like everyone else. 

Deep down, a part of him was grateful you gave him a clean state. 

When the woman he had been talking to realized his attention had been drawn elsewhere, she scoffed and quickly returned to her friends after he didn't continue the conversation. He didn’t seem to care, wandering over to where Javy had resumed his stance.  

“What’s she doing here on her day off?” Coyote placed the darts into Jake’s hand, not removing his eyes from you. 

“She doesn’t normally come here on a day off?” Jake asked, starting to line up a shot. 

“Not unless she’s with one of us. Maybe she has a date.” 

Coyote took a swig of his beer, missing the way Jake dropped his hand and spun his head, eyes tracking the bar to see if anyone was joining you. But you were bowing your head, on the verge of pulling out your hair, staring at the top of the bar before replying to whatever Penny asked.

“What did you guys talk about that night?” 

Jake turned back to Coyote, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head while he raised his hand again. “Nothing I haven’t told you before.” 

Jake let the dart go, watching as it landed just above the center mark. “She thanked me for the flowers, for helping Sadie, and then we did the dishes.” 

“Just like that?” Javy questioned. “So you didn’t pull any of your insensitive shit around her?” 

“I wasn’t going to make her call me out twice. Not since you left me to deal with Phoneix and Rooster chewing out my ass.” He threw another dart, this one striking just above the last one. 

Coyote ignored the dig, watching him throw two more before asking, “So the flowers were..” 

“An apology, nothing more.” 

Javy eyed Jake skeptically, “And why do you suddenly care about saying sorry to someone you hardly know?” 

“Hey, I happen to like Sadie and Liz. And if the Daggers are spending Saturday nights over there, I’d like to improve my chances of being invited back.” 

Javy went to collect the darts from the board before turning around to stand in front of Jake, proceeding to square him up. 

“Be careful with her, Jake,” he said, placing the darts into his hand. “I’m not like the others, but you cannot fuck with Lizzie. She might put on a big show, but she’s more fragile than she looks. And Sadie’s a part of the equation too.” 

Jake regarded him briefly, thinking about the note Sadie gave him that he tucked into his wallet, before finally answering, “She told me she wasn’t interested in that.”

“Interested in a tumble in the sheets or being your friend?” 

“Shut up. I just want to be there for her and Sadie.” 

“Oh, so you wouldn’t mind if I called her over here to join us then?” 

“Javy!” Jake reached for Coyote’s arm, failing to stop him from lifting his hand. 

“Lizzie!” 

Jake grimaced as Coyote waved at you, quickly reaching up to throw another dart, this time half in frustration. It landed next to the metal circle encasing the center dot. 

You called out to greet them, and Jake couldn’t help but take note of how your dress lightly swayed as you maneuvered yourself between pulled-out chairs to get to them, leather jacket zipper straps swinging as you walked, and a pair of brown aviators dangling from where you had hooked them between your breasts.

He caught a glimpse of Penny’s glaring stare from behind you, and his conversation with her the week before meeting you played in his head. 

“She’s off limits, Hangman.” She had said as she thumped his beer bottle onto the bar. “You don’t go anywhere near this one, and I don’t care how many people you’ve helped throw out of this bar. I’ll never welcome you back, so help me. Not her.” 

The second it appeared you would look back up, he turned to throw another dart, this time Coyote holding up his hand to block his view. You watched Jake land the dart directly in the middle, slightly impressed. 

“So, this is your party trick?” you announced with a grin.

Coyote wolf-whistled as he approached you, holding out his hand to spin you in a circle, your dress swirling as you laughed. “You clean up nice, Lizzie. You meeting some special?”

Jake’s hand wobbled as he threw another dart, this time hitting the outer rim. 

“What? Oh no, I had a meeting with CPS.” 

Jake’s ears picked up at the statement, dropping his hand heavily to face you. “Is she okay? Are they threatening to take her away from you?” 

You shook your head, warmth spreading in your chest at his concern.  “It was harmless. They just wanted to pass along some information.” 

Jake turned to Coyote as you suddenly stepped towards the dartboard, seemingly interested in his score and leaving no room to continue the conversation.  Coyote looked at you with concern before glancing back at Jake, shaking his head. 

“You know how to throw?” Jake asked, not taking his eyes off Javy and tilting his head toward Penny. Javy nodded, quickly approaching the bar to see if Penny knew anything. 

“Oh, believe me, sharp objects and I do not mix,” you remarked, looking at his score before passing him as he went to collect the darts. You lent against the nearby pillar, pressing your glass to your chest. 

“You can’t be that bad,” he glanced over his shoulder, pulling the last dart from the board. 

“You’ve clearly never seen me on a good day. I’m a natural klutz,” you said, sipping your drink. Jake moved away from the board only to stop in front of you, holding out the darts in his hand.

 “Prove it.” 

You looked down, apprehensive of grabbing them. You accidentally drew blood the last time you threw a dart in Penny’s bar. You still felt horrible thinking about it, managing to skim an Admiral’s forehead. To this day, you swore you’d never touch the things again. 

But then you took in Jake’s face, amused and assured, as if you were just being modest about being a bad shot. He clearly wasn’t going to let it go, shoving his hand out again to emphasize he was dead serious.

“I warned you,” you offered, placing your glass next to his bottle on a side table, shedding your jacket and glasses before grabbing a dart from his hand. 

You attempted to line yourself up with the center of the dartboard. At first, you stood sideways, cocking your arm back several times in an attempt to let the dart go. The angle felt too awkward, and your hand started to cramp from how long you took. Then you completely turned to face it, fiddling with your grip while trying to fix your eyes between either the dart or the board. 

You managed to fake out three throws before deciding to give up.

Sighing, you dropped your hand, “Jake, I’m going to hurt someone if I throw this damn thing.” 

Jake tried to hold in his laughter, watching you struggle while leaning against the same pillar. He pushed himself off, uncrossing his arms before gently reaching for your wrist.

You looked at him, unsure, taking a step back,  “What are you doing?” 

Jake shook his head, reaching out again for your wrist. “Just trust me.”

You let Jake bring your hand up. His whole hand, warm and rough, engulfed yours as he positioned it where he wanted. You sucked in a breath through your teeth when you felt his fingers, barely grasping at your hip bone, pull you closer to him.

“Loosen your hand,” he squeezed, forcing you to attempt to calm the tension in your wrist. It was hard when you could only concentrate on the feeling of his chest lightly bumping your back. With each touch, you could feel yourself resisting the urge to lurch forward with a shiver racing up your spine. 

“Relax your shoulders.” He spoke, before tapping the heel of your boot with the top of his, making you take a step forward a bit. You gulped when you heard him say, “Widen your legs.” 

You breathed in through your mouth, forcing the exhale to drag your shoulders down. It was a few seconds before he murmured, “Close your eyes.” 

“Jake,” you warned. 

“There’s nobody around. I won’t let you hurt someone.” 

You sighed, closing your eyes and dropping your head slightly. Jake moved your hand again, softly squeezing once more. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you felt the heat of his breath travelling towards the left side of your jaw. 

“Throw it,’ he rasped into your ear. 

Jake loosened his hold on your wrist, feeling his calloused fingers trailing down your arm before lifting them off. The second his hand left your skin, you flicked your wrist forward as if his touch burned you. You refused to open your eyes, scared you might have hit someone or something old and well past its years on the wall. 

“Look.” 

You sharply breathed through your nose before opening your eyes to glance at the board. 

The dart had managed to hit the center. You couldn’t help but smile. 

“How’s that?” he squeezed your hip. “Not as bad as you thought.” 

“No blood is a first,” you said, proud of yourself. 

Turning around to thank him, the words died on your lips as you felt his breath warm your face. Jake had yet to let you go, his hand still clutching your waist and his nose a few inches from grazing yours. 

The decision you made, standing in your front yard last Saturday while face to face with Jake, about never putting yourself in a position where he could break your heart, was far from your mind. You took in everything about him. His sandy hair, his jawline, his eyes which then met yours. 

Jake’s stare brought you back to standing with him in your kitchen, washing dishes, and seeing his soft smile for the first time. Facing off in your backyard to guess music, him twirling one of Sadie’s pencils in his hand while helping her with homework, handing her the yellow tulip in your hallway. 

Jake could no longer hear the chants of Penny and the rest of the Daggers saying to leave you alone in his head. They were being replaced with the pump of his heart, a feeling he only experienced while pulling Gs. And then your eyes, wide and bright, drew him in. 

They were kind and soft. The type to have experienced laughter and the type of smiles that would make someone’s face hurt. You were looking at him like he was more than the metal wings pinned to his shirt. More than the good-looking pilot from Texas. More than just Hangman. 

His eyes dropped to your lips, feeling your warm breath on his and noticing the subtle scent of the Whiskey you had slipped prior. Could he still taste it, he thought, if he just tilted his head a little further down? 

And then the barbell rang. 

Three times. 

Jake immediately stepped back, head turning towards the bar with the healthy fear Penny had rung the bell for getting too close to you. But she and Coyote were standing off with some unlucky guy whose face had turned beat red at the bar. He had no cell phone, so either he disrespected the Navy or a lady and was not pleased about buying a round. 

He squeezed your waist, winking at you with a grin, before letting go to join Coyote at the bar. You bit your lip, watching him pat the man on his shoulder before hooking his arm under his, easily carrying him off to the side door with Javy. 

“You okay, Liz?” Penny called out, your eyes snapping to her as she raised an eyebrow.

Despite not knowing what the frick just happened, you called back, “Yeah, I think so,” while gripping the corner of the pillar with one hand. 

If she asked you why your legs were wobbling, you'd blame the whiskey.

Tags:

@blue-aconite @tinytotontheoversizedpony @djs8891 @caitsymichelle13 @startrekfangirl2233 @emorychase @ereardon

@dempy @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @daggerspare-standingby @phantomxoxo @formulapierre @eli2447

@fulla02 @blckgrl-sunflower

Please let me know if I missed you or if you want to be added!

Might be a little bit before Part 5, as I suddenly got swarmed with work stuff before my work conference at the end of March, but I will try my best!

Wickett ;)

[funfettiheart]

Spoilers for the new season of The Umbrella Academy

I think one of the (many) things that really fucked up this season of TUA for me was how they could NEVER keep any of the siblings in the same room for 5 minutes. 2 or 3 of them would go and do one thing and then everyone else would just??? fuck off? and they constantly seemed to forget that any of the other siblings existed.

The plot felt so disjointed and slow but at the same time rushed because at no point did anyone TALK to one another. I know theyre all dealing with their own shit but the most interesting part is watching them deal with it TOGETHER and seeing how each person reacts to stuff happening. But they barely speak to each other, not that any of the subplots were connected to the main plot in any way. What was up with the subway? We'll never know. Why did they get new powers? No idea. Why does Reginalds wife just appear near the end to go "AHA! It was me all along!" like??? Why was Reginald an alien? Why was Jennifer in a squid? How does the main cast dying get rid of the cleanse when there are at least 36 other children born with marigold powers?????

Also, getting new powers from the marigold should have been way more interesting! A new start, a new problem! Or at least a big change? But it wasnt because none of the characters gave a shit! Which has been one of my biggest ongoing gripes about the series: None of the characters care about what is happening. Klaus can literally fly now and there is 0 reaction. Luthers hairy again, whatever. Allison is telekinetic now??? Who gives a shit. Fuck it: KLAUS WAS SEX TRAFFICKED AND THEN BURRIED ALIVE AND NO ONE CARED.

In fact the way the characters are all treated was downright cruel. Luther could have had some much needed depth after what happened with Allison but was reduced to a dumb guy in shiny pants. Bens a dick and becomes obsessed with a woman he's just met and the entire rest of his plot is just that. Lila ricochetes between Diego and Five and is basically just The Wife when her whole thing was being a wildcard assassin. Diego was reduced to a suspicious moron and was the butt of a load of fat jokes for some reason. Allison flashed her new powers around twice and barely appeared in the plot. Victor goes to live out his dream of working for his abusive father. Five got trapped. Again. Klaus went through hell. Alone. Again.

It felt like they forgot how to write more than 2 people interacting. Fuck it felt like they forgot EVERYTHING THE CHARACTERS WERE AND WENT THROUGH IN THE PAST 3 SEASONS. To the point where whole arcs and side characters that were vital to the plot vanish.

And then finally they had this big dramatic ending... where they all kill themselves to save the world. And I felt nothing but dissappointment. The deaths of these characters that I'd seen for seasons, that I cared about and enjoyed left me thinking "I'm glad thats over" because the characters weren't even themselves any more. They fought so hard over the past few seasons to be alive and to live how they wanted and to get away from the horrific trauma that Reginald had put them through. And then the finale is them just... calmly committing suicide with none of their issues resolved. Not to mention the endless plotholes and dropped narrative threads. I'm honestly angry that this is the ending they settled on. "Youre damaged and traumatised and all of this is your fault and it always will be. Now go die about it". How miserable. How poorly thought out. What a perfect ending for season 4.

Sorry this is such a long rant, I have a lot of feelings. But most importantly: Sorry Gerard Way.

[itsrainingpussywillows]

TEEF

Mikey Madison x fem!reader

- Inspo: Sophie Thatchers bird scooter accident, my own tweet, and an old 1D imagine

- NOTE: guys i am NOT a writer in any way i literally wrote this on my toilet when i just got inspired while reading Jake Paul wattpad fics , i dunno how to use tumblr i suck at this LMFAOOO also i rode on a bird scooter once 2 years ago so im #QUALIFIED to write this

I wake up from my slumber as the bright sun-rays peek through my blijds. I turn over to my right side my girlfriend Mikey Madison is still asleep resting peacefully. I admire her for a few seconds more and kiss her forehead. “G’morning” she says GAWD she looks even more beautiful in the morning. “C’mon baby we have to get up and get ready. Did you forget about what I have planned for today??” I ask with a chuckle “‘Course not I js need a couple more minutes.” she mumbles less than 30 minutes later we are already out of the door

Today was meant to be a fun filled day. We were going to go get breakfast at Dutch Bros and then we were going to go drive downtown and ride those little bird scooters but absolutely positively nothing could’ve prepared me for what was going to transpire later today.

“ hi can I get one large picture-perfect and one large chai latte?” Mikey was ordering, my social anxiety just could NOT handle that. once we got to the window, we paid and they gave us two pink straws. I squealed with excitement as pink is my favorite color and also they thought we were pretty #STRAWCODEEE am I right?

The whole rest of the car ride was full of singing, dancing, laughs, and overall just two crazy women hyped up on caffeine

we drove around for a bit more when we parked Mikey and I got out and begin to walk over to the nearest Bird scooters. Mikey pressed a couple of buttons on her phone, so did I and just like that we were all set to ride our scooters “Y/n COME ONNNN” Mikey said as she started ZOOMING on that damn thang.

We had been riding for about 30 minutes down the street until we reached a crosswalk. “ Wanna race?!” Mikey yelled from the other side of the street “ YEAH” I yelled back, It wouldn’t be too long before the crosswalk said that it was OK for us to go. “ ON THREE “ She yelled and began counting down

“1..2..3!”

we started speeding down the hill. I was in the lead we were both giggling and laughing until i was launched forwards. My wheel had gotten stuck on a small rock and launched me face first right on the cold hard concrete. everything from this was a blur I just remember seeing a bit of red and hearing mikey scream.

beep.. beeep .. beeeeeeeep

my eyes flutter I woke up in a bright hospital room “Y/n ypure awake!!” Mikey exclaimed “Oh my God I thought I would never see you again!” she said “What do you mean?” i asked when my doctor, Dr. Paul as in doctor. JAKE Paul came in the room to explain. “ well girl you had a Bird scooter accident. Also you lost all your teeth so you’re gonna have to get a teeth transplant surgery sorry!” he explains “What i losth all my teef?????!”

“ i’m afraid so, do you have anybody in mind that would be willing to give you their teeth? If not, we can just get you veneers, but that’d be kind of hard. You know you lost all your teeth.” I took a moment to think since I didnt want my lovely beautiful sexy gorgeous girlfriend Mikey Madison to give up her precious teeth “ no I don’t hav anybody who I fink would be willing to give me their teef” “Well honey it’s settled. Looks like it’s time for you to get some veneers!” he exclaimed in a southern accent before pulling out a huge needle. “W-what isth that?” I stuttered

“Horse tranquilizer!” he said excitedly and before i could interject he injected it into my arm and I was out cold. in what felt like barely a minute I woke up to my girlfriend standing over me. “Mikey I’m Alive!” i scream “Who do you fink gave you your teef”, she says smiling and that’s when I finally get a good look at her mouth

all of her beautiful pearly white teeth were gone and apparently inside of my mouth “But Mikey y-you cant! let me give you back your teeth. I don’t need them besides how am I supposed to kiss you? You have no teeth.” i stated frantically. “Isth okay y/n, you needed them more” she says hugging me gently

“But-“ “Shhhhhhhhh” she interrupted me “We’ll find a way to get me more teef, i promisth”

[herdivineopulence]

who am I? I’m just a girl 

I am a first generation, first daughter to a Dominican woman who immigrated to the u.s in the early 90s, and the first daughter to an African American man with unhealed trauma from Brooklyn. LOL sorry but its the truth! We’ll talk about that later BUT yes, first daughter. That’s me! A 26 year old who’s doing her best at figuring this life out. I’m a virgo sun, taurus moon, & libra rising, a Venusian princess if you will <3 Im from the Bronx, but have lived in PA for most of my life. I have a younger brother, a kitty and a yorkie shitzu or chihuahua (its hard to tell xD). I’m a Lover girl at my core, Love is all I Live for. I live and die for this shit! It keeps me going, it literally gives me life. I am currently single and been single for such a long time… well technically only 5 months since my last “relationship” (at the time I’m writing this) but I don’t count that bc I literally felt nothing. Even the sex was mid LMFAOO, but I was with him bc he was the main one there really trying so I settled.. he also wasn’t everything I expected him to be, but we will definitely talk about that later too, I’ve been through a lot of heartbreaks.. its amazing that I’m still here! But i will say, i am truly blessed with platonic Love. I have such an amazing support team behind me, living and non living LOL. I have great friends, a wonderful mother, and overall a great tribe so far. But its time to expand. I need like minded people now that im entering a new phase in my life.

I Love anime, food, everything Venusian! FASHION, JEWELRY, HAIR SKIN NAILS, ROMANCE, oh the ROMANCE! PURE OPULENCE. But I still find myself not exactly where I want to be. This blog is something that has been in the works for idk how long… I made a actual blog website two years ago and only made one post and never posted again. I even had someone email me saying how they were eager for me to continue posting .. and I failed them :,(  But one thing I learned is to put myself first and be gracious and gentle with myself. I am a manifesting generator and for those who don’t know what that means, you can either look it up or stay tuned I’ll definitely put you on and teach you somethings, but long story short, I am not meant to stick to one thing, or do things that no longer excite me. So not being consistent is not a flaw but just my nature and how I function. Only when I follow my design will the things that excite me draw out the consistent energy needed to keep whatever I’m working on going longterm. Stopping and starting is normal too!

But I do know I need to be more disciplined and I really want to blog. I Love writing its my passion that I’ve recently discovered is what I absolutely Love & have since I was a preteen. I always have energy for it. I also have lots to share. As a 12H native with multiple planets there, being open and “exposing” myself is kind of hard. All my social media platforms have barely any followers. Except for twitter lol ( X ) that’s where I spend most of my time, but now its one of my goals to expand my horizons and expand my reach.I have so much to share, and I really want to jog my journey as well. The good thing is that I’m still at the beginning so to speak. I am starting over, AGAIN. Trial n Error, figuring out what I want, what works for me, what truly brings me happiness. that’s part of the journey & clearly part of my experience.

So here I am my Loves I hope this reaches the people that are meant to come across this. My goal is to build a community filled with like minded people to share my knowledge to those who really could use the information to better their lives. To learn! One thing about me I Love to learn, and I know i'll always be a student. Hopefully you can learn a few things from me, use me as an example, a role model, and your healer of hearts. Boy oh boy do i know how to heal a heart! I have so many goals, join me on my journey to accomplishing them all using all the tools we have at our disposal ; astrology, human design, witchcraft, law of attraction, health and beauty! Are you ready? HOP IN BITCH WE'RE LEVELING UP!

TTYL, BESOS ;*

~ Aurora

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Go To Sleep Little Baby

Summary: Written for AI-less Whumptober 2023 Day 26. Set in a Modern Magic AU. Hiccup’s uncontrollable magic has been with him since birth. As a baby, his parents were at a loss.

Warning: /

Rating: General

Characters: Hiccup, Stoick, Valka, Gothi

Pairing: Stalka

Words: 2 275

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: Magical exhaustion or injury, Curse

Whumpee: Hiccup, Stoick, Valka

Author’s Notes: Went through a lot of ideas for Day 26, which all had to do with the same AU, but I eventually ended up settling on this one. Can't wait to finally share the main fic soon. :)

Also this fic originally ended at a little over 1,7k words. Now it's a little over 2,2k, lol.

Enjoy!

@ailesswhumptober

XOXOX

Ever since the day he was born, Hiccup has been a difficult child. At 3 months old, all the boy has done is cry. Cry, cry, cry and hysterically so. Even with his belly full, his diaper clean, and after a nap, the screams would still erupt from his tiny lungs and his tears would fall. He’s not well.

Stoick and Valka took him to every doctor they could find with the same list of symptoms. He barely eats, he's almost constantly running a fever, and he's always crying. But no matter where they go, whether the clinic is on Berk or on the mainland, every visit ends with the same conclusion.

"He is as healthy as they come."

His ears are fine, his throat is fine, his belly isn’t tender, … Beyond a fever, there’s nothing physically wrong with him. Yet as fresh parents worrying about their first and stumbling through parenthood, it's a slap in the face each and every time.

Valka stomps to the car in a huff, Hiccup held securely to her bosom. It's one of the very few places where he might be persuaded not to cry. Even now he still sniffles, his lip trembling, and seeking solace in his mother’s embrace.

“Valka, wait!” Stoick hurries after her. His wife stormed out of the seventh or eighth doctor’s office with their son, she wouldn't even wait for him as she left.

She stops in the middle of the street to face him, a storm rages in her eyes. Stoick takes her arm and gently pulls her towards the parked car. He can see the tears she's struggling to blink away.

"I have to put him in the car seat, Stoick," she tells him, deciding against talking about the disappointing doctor's appointment. He knows why she tells him this. She's hesitating because the second she puts him down…

Stoick's gaze brings him to his son. Hiccup sleeps now, dressed in a baby blue onesie and tiny winter coat. It's been a cold and wet spring so far. Though it’s May, the warmer days still seem far away.

“Why can’t any of them help us, Stoick?” Facing the dread of putting their son down, Valka asks. “This doctor didn’t even want to look at our boy!”

The reminder makes Stoick clench his fists. It’s true. They had to beg for an appointment when they tried to deny them, simply stating “Babies cry!” And then, after they finally got one, the doctor barely examined Hiccup before declaring him perfectly healthy and sending them on their way. “First time parents, right?”

Valka wipes the tears from her eyes. They’re both exhausted after three months of literal hell. Hiccup isn’t the only one kept from his sleep by his crying. Not that a good night’s sleep would be a cure for just how draining listening to a constantly crying child can be. An infant can’t be reasoned with either. There’s a reason why he’s like this.

And now she’s stalling for time, not wanting to put Hiccup down. Because if they did…

He would simply erupt.

It’s like the world is just too much for the boy.

Stoick places a strong hand on his wife’s shoulder and she gazes up at him.

“Gothi.”

She blinks in confusion.

“What if our problem isn’t physical at all, lass?” He asks. “What if it’s magical?”

Valk stares down at Hiccup, flashes of his birth run to the forefront of her mind.

Her pregnancy had been strange. Not unexpected with two parents in possession of mystical abilities, though one underdeveloped. But even so, it was strange. She got,visions, remarkable dreams, her powers surged… And still, his birthday stands out like a sore thumb.

With every contraction, glass from windows and screens broke. She screamed, the lights overhead would flicker. She pushed, equipment would spark. It was like a scene out of a horror movie as the room descended into chaos. At least two nurses suddenly became unwell and the doctor came close to passing out. There was a power outage on the entire floor.

And then Hiccup arrived after nine long months. He cried and hasn’t stopped since. The only way to make him stop is if his parents cradle him. His parents and no one else. The nurses came to call him “devil spawn” when they thought his parents weren’t listening.

“Maybe you’re right,” Valka agrees. Maybe they never should’ve left Berk in the first place.

-XOXOX-

Elder Gothi was the oldest woman on Berk at the young age of 500 years old.

Or that is what they think her age is. She could be much older than that, she never gives a specific number when asked.

She is a witch, the wisest their tribe has ever seen. She is capable of a great many things, impossible things. So perhaps, she’s the best person to help these troubled parents with their bundle of joy.

Hiccup is once again a hysterical wreck. Lying on Gothi’s table in just his diaper now. He uses every ounce of his little lungs to scream. His face is a deep red and a mess of tears and snot. His fists and toes are clenched and his limbs still as if tensed stiff.

Almost unbothered, Gothi examines him while his parents cower, even Stoick. There’s a deep grimace on his face. The elder witch checks his eyes, his tongue, his liver, but it aren’t physical symptoms that she’s searching for. She’s not looking for the same things that a pediatrician would be looking for.

As her final step, she grabs his tiny fist and makes him uncurl his fingers, reading his tiny palm. Her eyes widen and she gasps.

Stoick and Valka both straighten, worry etched on their faces as she backs away from Hiccup.

Quickly retreating, she hurries to one side of her hut. The entire place is decorated in things of mystical origins. Amulets are pinned to a beam, chicken feet and other animal feet hang from the ceiling in bundles, rocks with certain properties hide in every corner, … anything the mind can think of, Gothi has. But she passes it all to go to the very back. Shoving things aside with her staff, she reaches a cabinet that hasn’t seen a decent dusting since the 1800s at least.

She’s mute, but her lips still utter a spell and the cabinet’s doors unlock audibly. Peeking inside, a web stretches along with the door she swings open. Gothi wipes it away with her bare hand before reaching inside and grabbing a small and black clay pot.

Her visitors can’t see it, her back faces them, but a thoughtful expression crosses her features. She wonders if she really has need for what’s inside. She hasn’t needed ithis in literal centuries for it only works on a select few people.

It’s worth a shot.

Opening the pot, she finds scales as black as the night within. She takes a few, concealing them in her hand and returns the pot to its original resting place. Never to be disturbed again.

With no clue as to what the old woman is doing, the desperate Stoick and Valka watch as she runs from one place to the next, surprisingly fast in her old age. She crushes something with a mortar and pestle, then runs to the other side of her hut to grab something else and crush that as well. She grabs several ingredients and the parents can’t keep up. It’s almost like Hiccup’s crying is a physical barrier, they can’t pay attention.

Finally, Gothi returns, hands clasped together and some of her concoction held within. She blows into her hands, the dust-like material falls gently above the crying child like a cloud of dust, fluttering down without a care in the world. Hiccup sneezes twice, his crying reaches a higher volume.

“Gothi…” Stoick speaks her name, fingers rubbing his temple.

Gothi reaches into the mortar again and with blackened fingers returns a second time to draw a rune on Hiccup’s forehead.

“Gothi?” Valka’s brows frown. Despite their age, she recognizes these mystical runes quickly as the witch places a second on his heart, a third on the back of his left hand, a fourth on his right.

“Stoick, she’s stunting him!”

“What?!” Stoick rises to his feet.

“She’s stunting his magic!”

Gothi finishes with a fifth rune on his belly. They all say “protect” and “contain.”

“Gothi, what’s the meaning of this?” Stoick is immediately perturbed. They came here to help their son, not hurt him!

With the slightest bit of magic touching his skin, something inside of the three month old lashes out. An orange glow like fire erupts from his underweight frame. His parents have to step back, taken off guard by the heat filling this tiny space. Gothi tries to draw the same runes around the boy on the table, drawing a perfect circle, but she’s thrown back and hits a chair behind her.

Stoick tries to come to her rescue, but finds himself frozen in place. There’s an impossible weight filling this room, choking them. It’s like several spells are used all at once. A buzzing drums in their ears, it almost overshadows Hiccup’s crying.

Gothi manages to finish the circle of runes. Glass shatters explosively, destroying her windows, breaking jars, things fly off the shelf as if thrown, the hearth is set ablaze.

The elder witch begins a wordless incantation. The buzzing grows louder, the heat hotter, her posessions levitate. She, Stoick, and Valka’s feet are lifted off the ground.

And suddenly all is quiet.

The ashy runes sear into the babe’s flesh without a single howl of pain and leaving not a trace. Everything floating in the air falls to the ground, the glow disappears, that suffocating weight is lifted. The three drop to the floor.

And Hiccup’s crying has stopped. Relaxing, curling up, and suckling on his fist, he’s suddenly sound asleep.

Valka and Stoick rise to their feet, staring in utter shock at the power displayed by their son. This was ten times worse than his birth at the hospital. They’re both shaken to their core.

Gothi hobbles to find her staff and then throws a thick layer of sand over the ground to begin her explanation.

Stoick can’t read it, but his partner can.

A hand to her beating drum of a heart, she soaks up every word.

“His own magic was hurting him?!” Valka repeats in shock and her husband shares that sentiment. Gothi nods before continuing.

She tells them how out of control his abilities are, how his little baby self had no idea what to do with them, that every second he wanted his magic to leave him alone and to stop hurting him. As a result, all he could do was cry. Cry and cry and cry and cry.

His parents were his sole comfort in his personal little hell.

“You stunted him…” Valka repeats, giving the elder witch a look. Gothi nods, it was for the boy’s own good. He may be okay now, but his abilties would’ve torn his little body apart before long. He wouldn’t have made it to his first birthday if they hadn’t come to her.

Telling his parents this makes the two grow cold inside.

“Gothi, what did we just see?” Stoick finally asks, uncertain how to describe what just happened inside her hut.

“A temper tantrum,” she starts. But rather, his powers were throwing one. Hiccup sensed the slightest bit of ‘hostile’ magic touch his skin and instinct bound to his abilities sought to protect him from it. By any means necessary.

“What now, Gothi?” Valka asks.

“Raise him like any boy on Berk would be raised. His magic is still there, simply mostly repressed. But watch out, this containment spell will erode over time. The older he gets, the weaker the spell becomes.”

With no more words to share, Valka picks the sleeping Hiccup up from Gothi’s table. The two thank her, Stoick makes sure she knows of his gratitude. As far as he’s concerned, the three of them are indebted to her.

They leave and Gothi retreats to the darkest corners of her hut, diving into her many books. She didn’t want Hiccup’s parents to know, but she’s left with questions herself.

Without a doubt, Valka is talented and Stoick contains a might that is sorely neglected. The man doesn’t know a single spell. But two powerful parents don’t mean a powerful child and certainly not one of this caliber.

The elder witch finds herself filling with concern. In her long life, she’s had the displeasure of knowing magic users of extraordinary strength and sometimes that kind of might is a curse. It certainly is for Hiccup, whose powers needed to be repressed, lest they slowly tear him apart cell by cell over the course of months. There is not a shadow of a doubt in her mind, he was in terrible pain.

She settles with a single book. It’s ancient, it practically falls apart in her hands. She skims through the pages to find the right one and dread settles in her old bones.

She feels sorry for the 3 month old. His life won’t be an easy one. Great and terrible things lie in his future.

For now, he and his parents are blissfully ignorant of it all.

Stoick and Valka bring a different child home that night. They put him to bed, he hasn’t stirred once on the way home. Both crash onto their bed, exhausted beyond believe and falling asleep in each other’s arms.

The next morning a happy child greets them.