#i was too caught up on the “two and four are siblings” thing i thought it was real

[twosnails4eva]

new year new me (i kind of like twofour now) (it's july)

[mostly-imagines]

La Vie en Rose

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason wildly preferring you over everyone else

4 in 1 blurbs

warnings: standard batfam arguing etc.

You sit curled up embarrassingly close to Jason on the couch, head on his shoulder. The team is still in their gear as they filter into the living room, masks and helmets discarded in scattered locations between here and the cave. The mission had been fairly simple and with all of them together it only took a couple hours to finish up.

As you waited, Alfred had kept your mind busy in the kitchen while he taught you how he makes his famous ice cream from scratch.

The clamor of the heroic party’s return had made itself known sooner than later, and you think your face must have displayed your emotions nicely because Alfred nodded you away with a small smile and no second thought.

You’d walked into the living room, weaving through the mess of siblings until a hand snuck out on your left and grabbed your wrist. You barely had time to look at him before Jason pulled you down to sit next him on the sofa. He wrapped an arm over your shoulder, pulling you in and leaving virtually no space between you. His armor sits heavy against you, but a welcome weight on your shoulders.

Tim plops down on the couch across from you and you can just make out a bit of blood on the side of his head, aptly accompanied by an irritated look sprawled across his face. It’s not enough blood to be concerned about—not for them—but you can venture a guess that whatever they were up to shouldn’t have called for any injuries and his pique is likely directly related to that.

Though Dick’s goading aura might have something to do with it too, as he comes crashing down next to him a second later, partially sitting on Tim’s cape and pulling him into an awkward angle. 

Nightwing doesn’t seem too perturbed by the younger vigilante’s agitation and curt manner of pushing him off.

The others are too caught up in chatter to pay much attention to you, and you can be certain that’s why Jason takes that moment to press a kiss to the side of your head. He lets his lips linger there for just a second as you lean into him.

Alfred’s own entrance is the only thing able to subside the flurry of conversations skirting around the room.

“A job well done,” he commends with a nod. “A selection of ice creams awaits you in the kitchen.”

He gives you a sly wink before retreating back through the swinging door, leaving Stephanie and Cass to practically trip over themselves trying to beat each other to the kitchen. Robin follows after unhurried, mask still on, with his hands behind his back.

Jason kneads your thigh before pushing himself up to stand. He turns back, looking down to you. “What do you want?” he asks softly.

You hum, "Just strawberry's good."

Tim sits up, "Can I—”

"No, you've got legs,” Jason grumbles, stalking off to the kitchen.

Dick barks out a laugh and you bite back a smile.

Tim looks absolutely aghast. 

“That’s such bullshit. You know, he used to be nice.”

“No he didn’t,” Dick laughs, shaking his head. “Not since you’ve known him.”

Stephanie stumbles out of the kitchen then, the door hitting her back on the way, as she mutters a curse behind her. You can vaguely makeout Jason grunting something back before she rolls her eyes.

Steph looks at you, shaking her head as she returns to her seat, “You live like this?”

You shrug, “He’s nice to me.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Tim grumbles.

Jason returns after Cass a minute later with a bowl of strawberry ice cream and two spoons. He expertly ignores Tim’s unwavering glare as he resituates himself beside you.

He scoops your legs up over his lap and positions the bowl in between you, wrapping the sleeve of his jacket around it so that the cold porcelain doesn’t make contact with your skin.

The others have set themselves up so that the four of them are stuffed up against each other on the sofa adjacent to you, very obviously examining you both. 

And while you’re willing to acknowledge the amused stares and singular glare, Jason only sighs heavily, rolling his eyes as he glares at the coffee table.

Only a few seconds of this are allowed to go by before he pulls over a throw pillow and sets it over your knees, so that it rests atop your heads like a mini-fort, successfully blocking out his siblings' view of the two of you.

You smile and press a light kiss to his shoulder as he simmers.

Regrettably, you miss the way Damian side-eyes the pillow above you as he re-enters the room, perching himself atop the back of the couch behind the others.

“This is so nice,” Dick preens. “He used to just leave the room when too many of us gathered in one place. Now he has to stay.”

Stephanie watches the makeshift fort with wary eyes, scooping ice cream into her mouth. “Yeah…I don’t wanna freak you guys out but, uh…”

It’s quiet for a moment and you guess Cass is speaking. 

You’re proven right when Stephanie starts up again, “My thoughts exactly.” Her voice drops into a raspy whisper that isn’t really meant to go unheard, “I don’t know who the hell that is, but it is not Jason.” 

“This is unprecedented,” Damian mumbles, dipping into his own chocolate cup.

“Do they always talk about you like you’re not here?” you ask Jason quietly. 

“Yes,” he grumbles with a scornful look directed at the bowl.

A low hiss can be heard immediately after, “I’ve never heard him whisper before, what the fuck?”

You can’t hide your laugh as well as you mean to, but you know Jason’s light swat to your thigh is nothing more than a rib.

Mumbles continue along the other couch, mostly going unacknowledged, until Tim busts out, “He doesn’t even like strawberry!”

Jason snaps the pillow out of the way, “The fuck do you know about what I like?”

Tim resets his posture with one hell of an attitude, snarking, “Well I can name one thing you really seem to fucking—”

Jason grabs the pillow harshly and chucks it at Tims head which connects with a loud thwack.

Damian swats it away before it can knock him off balance, though his scowl is only half worth what Tim’s is. 

“You’re unbelievable,” he says with a sneer. “This is why you don’t get invited to movie night anymore.”

Jason doubles back at him, “Sorry, is this not your own fucking house?”

Tim huffs, “Yes, which i—”

“Then get your own goddamn ice cream!”

Tim huffs as he stands, sending Jason a pointed look. “I’m going because I want to.”

Jason barely gives him a sardonic nod as he stomps off.

“Get me some too!” Dick calls back, only for the back of his head to be met with a sideways grimace from Tim.

As he leaves, the focus of the room seems to shift towards Damian dripping chocolate onto his cape and it fades away from there.

You turn to Jason, lowering your voice to just below a whisper, “If you don’t like strawberry—”

“I like it,” he tells you, leaving no room to argue as he takes a bite.

Voicemail. 

Voicemail.

Voicemail. 

Voicemail.

Declined.

Voicemail.

Declined.

Declined. 

“I swear to God, he better be dead,” Stephanie mutters to herself.

She shuts her phone off and tosses it into the passenger seat with a huff. Her fingers drum against the steering wheel as she scans the sidewalk across from her car.

The night before the majority of the team had been involved in a less-than-successful plan, which some have called “a display of complete idiocy and inability to circumspect.”

Then Tim had to go and make a joke about that word choice in what was apparently a bad moment. This gave way to a harsher punishment of the team being forced to clean the batcave foot by square foot—notably, an impossible task.

So naturally, they had to retaliate.

The plan was to dismantle the batmobile piece by piece and leave it a collection of parts for Bruce to find. Problem being, the group as it stood didn’t possess the capability to do so without doing a great deal of damage to the parts. Damage, that the family was not willing to face extra retribution for.

Fortunately, they knew just the man for the job. 

Unfortunately, said man has devoted his life to ignoring their messages, favoring to live peacefully and distantly from them. And because that peace and distance does come with an add-on of borderline complete secrecy from his family, no one had any idea where to look for him.

So, Stephanie decided to do the next most rational thing and track down your location. She’d hoped he would be with you like he always is, but for seemingly the first time in the last year—he’s nowhere to be found.

Now, was revenge for a minor-slight by Bruce so important that it required Stephanie to take all of these steps to get a hold of Jason? No, absolutely not. She’s pretty sure that the others have already given up on it by now and started cleaning. But it’s about the principal. And also, she does not want to clean the floors of a cave.

She jumps up in her seat when she spots you exiting a store, scurrying to unbuckle and pry the car door open.

She’s across the street in half a second, running directly into your line of sight. It actually would’ve been very difficult for her to miss your line of sight, considering she’d landed only a good six inches in front of your face. “Hey!”   

“Oh, fuck—” you jump, grabbing your chest. You take a breath when you realize who it is, less surprised now by the theatrics of the introduction. “Hey Steph.”

“Hey,” she smiles casually, like she didn’t do what she just did. “So Jason’s been ignoring us and I need to get a hold of him,” she tells you.

You nod, still collecting yourself. “Oh. I don’t know where he is—”

She shakes her head, “That’s fine. Can I use your phone to call him?”

You frown, “Is something wrong?”

“With him, yeah,” she snarks. “I called him, Tim called him, Dick called him, Cass called him, Damian called him, we used Bruce’s phone to call him—that was a bit of a long shot, but still. This is our last option. Well, not our last option, if this doesn’t work I could get really invasive, but—” She shakes the thought from her head, “Nevermind.”

You nod blankly, taking in the mountain of information she’d just handed you. “How’d you know I was here?”

She scans your eyes back and forth for a second before her own widen in realization and she’s shaking her head. “No, no, don’t worry we’re not tracking you! I just hacked into the traffic cameras to find you.”

“Oh!” you exclaim, nodding some more. “Okay.”

You hand her your phone without any further questions—for your own sake—and she happily accepts. 

“You know I texted him 115 times?” she tells you as she scrolls through your contacts.

You furrow your eyebrows, watching her click his name and press the phone to her ear. “Did you count?”

“Well, I had the time, di—you son of a bitch! One ring?” Stephanie scorns into the phone.

You can hear Jason groan on the other end of the line. 

He says something to Stephanie that she follows up with a firm shake of her head.

“No,” she says defiantly. “She let me use it.”

Stephanie rolls her eyes, not pleased with his response. “What if it was an emergency?”

She listens for a second, skeptical look on her face.

She gasps suddenly, “I am not overstepping, we thought you were dead!”

Over the course of about ten seconds the shock on her face drops into just-been-caught guilt. “Well, I mean we considered it.”

You imagine Jason’s telling her to give you your phone back as she stands her ground, pushing, “If you promise to text me back.”

A short response on his end.

“Promise to text me back!”

There’s a brief lull before she’s giving a self-satisfied nod and jostling your phone back into your hands. “Here ya go. Thanks, babe!” She smiles wide at you before jogging back across the street, not waiting for the cars.

You smile as you watch her go, putting the phone up to your ear, “Hey Jay.”

You can hear the relief on the other end of the line. “Hey sweetheart. You know if you see Steph in public, you can just walk away?”

“I’m not going to walk away from your family.” You look again across the street, “Also I don’t think that was an option for me this time.”

“That thing is fucking scary.”

Cass smiles fondly, signing, “I think he’s cute.”

Tim eyes the way Salem traipses around his feet, yellow eyes staring up at him. “Why’s it even here?”

Jason rolls his eyes, continuing to scroll on his phone. “He’s hers. Deal with it.”

Tim scrunches up his mouth. “She knows I hate it. And she, unlike you, wouldn’t subject me to this just for the hell of it. So again I ask: why is it here?”

Jason huffs, looking up from his phone. “What do you want me to say? He wants to be.”

Tim scoffs at that, “‘It wants to be’? You’re the one who put it in the car.”

“No, I didn’t,” Jason says factually.

Tim looks at him sideways as Salem leaps onto Jason’s lap and nudges his hand up. Jason follows along as requested, petting the top of Salem’s head with an open palm. 

Tim squirms to the other side of the couch with a look of disgust on his face. Salem watches him the whole time.  

A smile adorns Cass’ face as she signs, “She says he can read people’s energy.”

Tim huffs, resting his head against his fist. “What does that even mean?”

The conversation is cut off by the clatter of you and Dick stumbling into the room, carrying a freshly painted headboard. Blue paint coats both of your hands and has no doubt stained your clothes.

You’re clearly struggling a bit to keep your grip on your end, the weight of the wooden frame dragging your arms down.

Jason stands and Salem flows along with his movements easily, leaping down onto the hardwood. He comes over and helps you lift your end of the frame with a stupid amount of ease, to the point that you’re not even holding any of the weight up anymore. The three of you—less so you—move the headboard and lean it up against the wall. After it's set down Jason steps back and looks over it gingerly.

“It looks good,” he murmurs to you, quiet enough to not give his brother the satisfaction of his approval.

Dick had asked you over to help him paint Damian’s bed frame as a surprise for him for not getting in any “altercations” at school this semester. You’d decided on coating it with his favorite color first and then fill it in with a collection of what Dick has “on good authority” are his favorite animals. It’s a fairly random assortment that you’re not sure adds to or disproves Dick’s credibility. You’d spent the better half of the afternoon googling animals you’d never heard of just to make sure you projected their likenesses accurately. Dick had been very clear that you had to be precise on the details because Damian would know if he was really looking at a komodo dragon painting or if it was “some common lizard.”

You sigh, “I hope he likes it. I’m worried we did it too childish for him.”

“He is a child,” Jason says plainly.

“But he is not childish,” you counter. And he sure isn’t. You’d had a hard enough time convincing Damian to watch cartoons, adding a colorful animal mural to his bedroom might be one step too far. You’re still trying to figure him out.

“He’ll like it,” he says firmly.

You smile, slipping around under his arm and tucking yourself into his side.

Not a moment later, Dick slings an arm around Jason's shoulder, grinning as he pulls his brother in close.

Jason’s immediately louring. "No, get away from me."

Dick, unfazed and still smiling, removes his arm and takes a big step to the right. You do the same, figuring he needs his space, but you get caught by the wrist before you can do more than sway to the side. 

“Not you.” 

He pulls you back under his arm, wrapping it around the front of your shoulders. You hook your fingers around his forearm, letting your hand hang.

You hear a double-clap from the other side of the room that has you both turning around to face Cass. 

She signs something to Jason with a fond smile on her face. 

You look back and forth between them as Jason waves her off. “What?”

He shakes his head, “It’s nothing. She said—she said we’re cute.”

You smile up at him and he deflects—not so subtly—and starts nudging you back towards where the group is gathered, now all standing. 

Dick’s quick to start bragging off to the room about how great of a job the two of you did and how really complex and daunting it actually is painting animals for a child.

As he talks, your eyes find Jason, who’s definitely about to roll his eyes any second now. A bit subconsciously, your hand comes up to brush Jason’s white streak of hair back, away from tickling his forehead. 

On the other side of Jason, Tim does the same, sweeping Jason’s hair back in a much more mocking manner. 

This gives way to Jason smacking his hand away, harder than he needed to.

"Wha—You let her do it!" Tim protests, overplaying how much the slap hurt.

Jason scowls, "She can do whatever she wants."

Tim drops his shoulders, looking at Jason as if he’d been scandalized. “Oh but I can’t?”

“Not if it involves touching me,” Jason grumbles.

Tim steps closer, putting a finger to Jason’s chest. “You’re such a—”

From the floor, Salem hisses up at Tim, successfully startling the teenager. “Auahh—”

He stumbles backwards, grimacing at the cat. 

“Fucking demon,” he hisses, walking away.

When Tim’s far enough away and Salem’s seemingly satisfied, he brushes up against your leg, purring. 

You peer down at him with a furrowed brow. 

“What’s Salem doing here?”

“I’m not doing this shit with you.”

“No, come on, 9 out of 10 times is what you said. How ‘bout just once? Beat me one time at anything, Jaybird.”

“Anything?” Jason asks like he knows damn well Dick can’t swear on that word.

Rightly so, Dick backtracks. “Something agreed upon.”

Jason throws his hands up, partially in exasperation, partially relenting.

Dick smoothly turns his back to him, announcing, “Opening up the room for ideas.”

Damian’s eye roll is almost audible from the corner armchair, where his attention is unmoved from intently sharpening a blade he’d recently come into possession of.

Bruce similarly remains unbothered in his seat, trying to read despite the distractions. 

“Ooh, okay. Okay.” Stephanie wiggles up a little on the couch. “You could race!”

Dick shakes his head negatively, “I literally just busted my knee up two days ago, Steph.”

“Convenient,” Jason mumbles.

“You were there!” Dick exclaims with an open mouth.

Steph continues, “Um…”

Cass waves to the room from her position upside down on the couch, head hanging down next to Stephanie’s legs. Attention successfully acquired, she signs, “Staring contest.”

Jason grimaces, “That sounds like a nightmare.”

Dick gives him a faux-smile.

“You should play chicken,” Damian chimes in, holding up his knife.

“No,” Bruce drones monotonously as he flips a page. 

“Tic tac toe?” Steph suggests.

Cass is already shaking her head as she scrunches up her mouth in thought.  

Jason rolls his eyes, “What are we, five?”

Dick nods, cracking his knuckles as he thinks. “No, we need something that really proves our worth.”

Bruce looks up from his book, staring numbly through his brow, but remains silent.

“You could arm wrestle,” Steph suggests.

The elder brother twitches at that, “Uh, no.”

Cass moves past that before a joke has the chance to be made. “Handstand contest?” she suggests.

Jason shrugs, “Yeah, sure.”

The elder brother looks at him incredulously. “You’ll do a handstand contest with me?”

“That’s what I just said.”

Dick scoffs, “Jaybird, I’m an acrobat, you’re just some guy.”

Jason, not giving him the courtesy of eye contact, pulls his sweatshirt off from his back. “Well, you’re a lot of things, aren’t you?”

Dick throws his head back with a squint.

Jason fishes his phone out of his pocket and Dick follows suit, offended stare maintaining all the while. 

No exchange is required as they both toss their phones across the room, landing together with a rough clatter on Damian’s lap. Damian’s resulting glare is borderline disgusted.

Dick starts them off, “Alright, go. One…two…”

Both men push up onto their hands, muscles flexing as they find their balance. Dick’s form is better, of course, but Jason looks to have a stronger foundation.   

They both hold strong as several minutes go by with the brothers only maintaining the attention of some of the room, and the interest of none of it.

Stephanie huffs and tilts her head, thoroughly unentertained with the consistency they’re both managing. 

“Starting to wish they’d picked something that moved along a little faster,” she murmurs to Cass.

Dick glances over at the younger brother, clearly displeased with his lack of trouble keeping up with him. He shuffles closer one hand at a time, using the decreased distance to poke at Jason with his foot, trying to knock him over.

Jason kicks him back harder, “Hey! Don’t be a dick—”

“Very funny,” Dick leers.

They both end up finding a struggle to keep balance and are forced to mind their own.  

A chime rings out from the corner that has heads turning briefly in his direction before coming back to the competition. 

“Whose was that?” Dick calls out.

Damian leans over and inspects the screens with disinterest. “Todd’s.”

Jason adjusts his position, “Who is it?”

Damian responds with your name. 

“And?”

He picks up the phone shrugging like he couldn’t care less, “She wants to know if you want to go see some movie.”

There’s a brief silence before Jason drops out of the handstand, standing up. 

Dick’s blood-flushed face peers up at him, bewildered. “Wait, what?”

The family watches with wide eyes as Jason picks his sweatshirt up off the floor and tugs it back on.

Stephanie gawks, bordering on laughing. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he says simply.

Dick lets himself fall into a kneeling position with a huff, “You would rather go to some movie you don’t even know the name of than win a bet?”

Jason moues at him, “Uh, yeah.”

He tosses a twenty at Dick, and plucks his phone from Damian’s hand as he strolls past him, typing out a reply.

Cass sits up a bit and signs up to Stephanie, “Does he even like movies?” 

Bruce, now attention now fully removed from his book, watches Jason exit with the slightest hint of a smile. Dick sits dumbly on the floor, staring after him with an open-mouth. 

Damian twists the knife in his hands around contemplatively before rising to stand. 

“I will go,” he announces, dropping his blade onto the seat of the chair. Jason grumbles a no but Damian follows after him just the same.

you know what happened to the last guy that didn’t reblog? … 🔪🧨💥😵⚰️🪦

[munsonsmixtapes]

Tired of Waiting

Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

summary: little pieces of your life as you fall in love with Anthony

cw: hurt/comfort

very loosely inspired by Love Story by Taylor Swift

Age 7

The first time you met Anthony, you had been playing hide and seek with your siblings. Your brothers had invited him to play and had declared that he be the seeker. Immediately, you had thought he was cute with his disheveled hair and outfit that was covered in dirt for reasons unknown to you.

He got along with your brothers quite nicely, but didn’t seem to pay you any mind. Almost as if he didn’t like you. And Anthony didn’t like you. He thought you were a know-it-all and didn’t like how you told him what to do.

You hid yourself in the tree above you and tried to hold back your giggles as you watched the boy and your brothers look for you, calling out your name as they did so. You let out a laugh that was a bit too loud and all four of them looked up, Anthony’s eyes going wide as he saw how high up you were. He thought it was very irresponsible of your brothers to let a girl such as yourself climb up there. But instead of helping, they all just laughed along with you.

Taking matters into his own hands, Anthony climbed up to help you despite your objection. You didn’t need his help. You got up there so you could certainly get down. And you certainly didn’t need help from a boy. Especially not one who was your not your brother.

“I do not require your help,” you told him, but he just ignored you, climbing the tree quicker than you ever could.

“No one said you didn’t require it, but I am offering.”

“Then I shall stay up here.” You crossed your arms over your chest, planting yourself down on the branch that you had been standing on. Thinking about letting him help you made you feel weak, like you couldn’t do it for yourself and you most certainly could.

You turned to face the setting sun as Anthony continued to climb to you, paying him no mind. You weren’t leaving that tree until he went away. He was not going to make you look like all of the other women. Because that was not what you were. You were just a girl trying to live out her freedom until it was time to discuss marriage.

Everyone stopped when there was a loud crack coming from below you. You sat up and sure enough, the branch was separating from the tree. Anthony finally reached the branch and him grabbing onto it made it completely break off, causing the both of you to fall to the ground in a loud thud.

He landed on top of you and made multiple apologies even though the fall hadn’t been that far, but you had hurt your knee, probably had even broken it. You screamed in response to the pain and your brothers quickly pulled him off of you and your oldest brother, Henry carried you inside to have your scraped knees taken care of. From that moment, you vowed that you would always hate Anthony Bridgerton.

Age 12

You got over your hatred for Anthony pretty quickly and the two of you had been attached at the hip ever since. You’d chase each other through the garden, threatening to kiss the other once you were caught, but that never actually happened. No matter how much you wanted it to. You knew it was wrong for a boy and a girl to kiss if they were not married, but that didn’t stop you from imagining what it would have been like to press a featherlight kiss to Anthony’s lips.

And Anthony felt just the same. He had realized that the feelings he had thought were hatred were actually of love. He had loved you and more than just a friend. He knew that he was young, but he wanted to marry you. So badly that it hurt. He vowed that as soon as the two of you were of age, he’d do it. If he had the guts.

Age 16

As you got older, you and Anthony talked much of traveling the world together. You’d go to Spain and Paris, and Italy and wherever else your hearts desired. You’d both sit in the study of your house and spin your globe for hours, closing your eyes and spinning the thing and deciding you’d had whatever it landed on to your ever-growing itinerary.

Not long after, Anthony told you that he would be traveling with his uncle through Europe. Coincidentally to the exact places you both had discussed going to. You had been a little upset, but ultimately felt elated for him to be able to do something so exciting. He promised that he would write and bring something back, but that didn’t seem like enough. You had spent every single day for the past nine years together and now you were going to be miles apart with only his letters and gifts to keep your company.

The next week, you saw Anthony off, giving him a hug that lasted a little too long for friends and stayed there until his carriage disappeared down the road. You felt tears fall from your eyes but wiped them away until you were alone.

You knew it was only going to be for a few weeks, but without Anthony, a part of you was missing. A piece of your heart had left with him and you were hoping, praying that he’d finally get the hint and come back and ask for your hand like you had been wanting for years. But he didn’t.

Age 20

Those few weeks had turned into months which eventually turned into years. Anthony had been gone for four years and you eventually threw away the letters he was sending you, knowing that everything he had said was a load of shit. He has promised to come back and marry you, but clearly that hadn’t been of importance since he had yet to do just that.

So, with that, you decided that it was finally your season to find a husband to which your mother reluctantly agreed. She had her heart set on you ending up with Anthony, but since he had failed to propose, she decided that it was probably for the best to just get on with it.

As soon as you had been declared ready to wed, suitors lined up at your door with gifts and many compliments which you took with a smile. All of them were gentleman, but none of them seemed right. The onto one you wanted was out of reach.

You found yourself at yet another ball to meet more suitors that you had forced yourself to go despite your want to stay home and read Anthony’s letters over and over again. You had been dancing with the man your mother had insisted was the right fit for you and no matter how nice he was, you had decided that he was a bore. All he seemed to want to talk about was his family and as nice as it was that he loved them so much, you could only hear about his six siblings for so long.

You looked around the room as he spoke and your eyes locked on a beautiful man by the refreshments table. He has the prettiest brown eyes and hair that was the perfect amount of messy. He was definitely your type and you had been determined to talk to him.

Once the song ended, you excused yourself from Edgar and made a beeline for the man that has caught your interest. His eyes locked on yours and for some reason, they seemed familiar, almost as if you had looked into them before. He gave you a smile and you swore your legs were going to give out at how pretty it was.

“Hello,” you greeted him with a curtsy. “I’m-”

“Lady l/n,” he finished, taking your gloved hand and pressing a kiss to it. How could he have possibly known your name? Unless- No, he was in Paris last you had heard.

“Anthony?” You asked and he just smiled. It really was him! In the flesh! How had he come back and not told you? Perhaps the announcement had been in the letters you had failed to open.

“I believe you should address me as Viscount Bridgerton,” he said, his lips right by your ear, causing you to shiver.

“That would mean that I respect you and at this moment, I don’t.” You pulled your hand from his and headed out of the ballroom, down to the courtyard.

Anthony took off after you, quickly gaining up on you. What had he done wrong? Once upon a time, you worshipped the ground that he walked on and now you were treating him like he was dog shit you had just stepped in.

He told you he was going to come back and marry you and now that he had, you didn’t want anything to do with him. He knew that he had been gone longer than intended, but he had hoped you still would have been happy to see him. Apparently, he was wrong.

Anthony followed you into the hedge maze that took up most of the courtyard and was having trouble keeping up since you had sped up into a run. What even was the purpose of a hedge maze?

He eventually caught you by the wrist and you tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but it was no use. You were tired of running, but you were also tired of waiting. If you said the word, you’d be wed to Edgar within a month and Anthony would have been kicking himself because he hadn’t gotten there sooner. It was what he had deserved.

“Stop running,” he commanded through labored breaths and you just shook your head.

“No,” you replied. “I will not. I am so upset with you that I can’t even comprehend it.”

“Upset with me?” He still had no idea what he had done.

“Yes!” You looked so upset and exhausted that all Anthony wanted to do was hold you in his arms as a way to comfort you.

“Why?”

“Why? Be serious, Anthony! I have waited years for you and I shall not wait any longer. I am done with you.” That was like a stab to the heart. You should have just killed him. It would have hurt a lot less

“Done?” You couldn’t be done with him. You had spent too much time together for that to be true.

“I am to marry Lord Fletcher.” Fuck, he was too late.

“That man is a bore!” You had no interest in hearing his thoughts. He lost his privilege to tell you what he thought when he left.

“He is no such thing!” He really was, but you weren’t going to give Anthony the satisfaction of being right.

“And may I say old enough to be your father.” He was that too, but you weren’t really going to marry him so it didn’t matter.

“But he will be my husband. A role you could have taken on if you had bothered to show up.” With that, he he let go of your hand and watched you move further into the maze.

“But he doesn’t love you as much as I!” He yelled, loud enough for you to hear. You quickly turned around and marched towards him and grabbed him by his coat before pressing your lips to his. You felt him gasp into your mouth but he quickly melted into you, his lips moving with yours.

“You love me,” you said against his lips.

“More than you’ll ever know.” He pulled away and reached into his pocket for the ring he had bought for you in Paris. He opened the box you gasped at the beautiful ring sitting inside it.

“Anthony, it’s beautiful.”

“And it’s yours.” He removed the ring from the box and slid it onto your finger, tears welling up in both of your eyes. “It always was.”

“I’m sorry. I was horrible to you.”

“No apologies necessary,” he shook his head, pulling you into another deep kiss. “Now, shall we go make the announcement?” He asked, offering you his arm.

“We shall,” you nodded and looped your arm through his, the two of you making your way back into the ballroom to announce your much anticipated engagement.

[redroses07]

The Umbrella Academy Season 4 Fix It Fic // Five Hargreeves x Reader Edition

WC: 3.1k

CW: Canon accurate violence, swearing, kissing, use of Y/N, Y/N is a bad ass, domestic fluff, angsty af.

Summary: A Five x Fem!Reader rewrite for the end of season four because I absolutely hated the ending. Five and Lila are not a thing in this fic, because that made me literally gag.

A/N: Hey luvs! I worked my ass off writing this fic because I needed to have a better ending for season four. In my mind this fic is canon. I hope y'all like it because I truly love how it turned out! Have an amazing day and enjoy! - Claire ♡

Five sat on the empty train, riding round in aimless circles. He had no intention of ever stopping. Perhaps he would die here, if death was even possible in this endless void. There was no reason for him to continue, they were out of options.

All he wanted to do was save his family, save you, but he couldn't even do that. At least this way he could escape having to witness the end of their lives.

He couldn't help but feel as if this was all his fault, if only he had listened to Reginald when he told him never to time travel. So much pain, so many lost lives, it never would have happened.

Five looked out the window, he didn't know what exactly for. Everything looked the same. Round and Round again, each identical station feels more hopeless than the last.

After an immeasurable amount of time, days? years? who knows. Something caught Five's eye.

He jumped up from his seat, following the dark figure out into the station.

Was that? No.

"Hey, wait!" Five shouted, chasing him down a staircase.

He rounded a corner, seeing a dimly lit cafe filled with all too familiar faces. The place was filled with several alternate versions of Five himself. It was an odd feeling for him to see himself this way.

Nonetheless, he took a seat across from the Five he had followed.

No more than ten seconds later, another Five served up two pastrami sandwiches. Five number two began to complain about the amount of sauerkraut on his sandwich, staring intently at the meal.

"What is this place?" Five asked, reaching for the cup of hot coffee next to him.

"It's a gas station. What the hell does it look like? It's a Deli." He could see that the alternate Five share his love of sarcasm.

He went on to explain how this was a place where all of the Five's from alternate timelines end up while trying to fix the "broken timeline" issue.

"Okay, so what shattered the original timeline?" Five asked.

"Not what. Who? I'll give you three guesses." Alternate Five held up three fingers.

"We did!" Another Five yelled.

Five wasn't surprised, everything always seemed to be caused by him.

"By we, do you mean my siblings?" Five asked.

"Yep, the morons."

Five rolled his eyes.

"When we come into existence, the timeline is shattered, and then we're stuck trying to save the world. How many times was it again?"

"145,412."

The number seemed almost impossible to fathom, but the more alternate realities, the more opportunity for the world to end. Alternate Five pointed at the wall, which was filled with every possible way the world had ended. Viktor's attempt at blowing up the moon was front and center. Seeing it gave Five an unpleasant sense of nostalgia.

Five came to realize that the commission was created by an alternate Five in an attempt to fix the timeline, but it was never successful since the Hargreeves siblings were the root of the problem.

"I have to get back." Five turned, rushing out the door. He heard the alternate versions of himself begin to speak, but his overwhelming thoughts drowned it out.

Five ran as fast as he could, getting back on the train and returning to his rightful place. With his family.

As Five entered the abandoned shell of his former home, the room's occupants turned to look at him.

The first person he noticed was you. You watched him with sad eyes, eyes he thought he would never have to gaze into again. Yet here he was, and undeniably, he had a plan.

You watched Five scan the room. Dark hair hung in front of his eyes, his chest heaved from running, or perhaps from anxiety.

"I didn't think you'd be back." You purse your lips, giving him a sour look. '

Facing your bitterness was the hardest part of all this for Five. Of course you had every right to feel that way, he had just up and left you. Although, in his mind that was better than having to watch you die.

"Yeah, neither did I." Five muttered.

Everyone looked at him, obviously awaiting an explanation.

"We caused this." Five began.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Alison sighed.

You stared at Five intently, wondering what had changed since he decided to ditch you and everyone else.

"The marigold that infected our mothers bringing forth our births had a side effect, it fractured the timeline, bringing forth the end of the world."

Five looked from person to person, attempting to read everyone's emotions. They were unreadable.

"Extracting the marigold from our bodies is the only way to stop the cleanse, and in short, fix the timeline."

Silence settled over the room. You weren't born with marigold as the Hargreeves were, but due to Ben's antics, this now concerns you too.

"Okay, but how exactly do we do that?" Diego asked.

Five looked over to Viktor.

"Viktor, you can use your powers to extract the Marigold from our bodies. Unfortunately Ben and Jennifer are too far gone to be saved, but their sacrifice will have been for the greater good."

Viktor let out an elongated sigh, and with little to no hesitation, he agreed.

"Okay, let's get moving before it's too late." Viktor said, speeding out of the room.

You followed closely behind, trying your hardest to avoid Five's gaze.

"Y/N, I-" You cut him off, this was not the time to be talking about all the mistakes he had made. Even if those mistakes led to the answer for all your troubles, they were still mistakes.

"We can talk about this later, if there is one."

Five sighed and watched you exit the room, not even bothering to look his way. He had fucked up big time.

You watched Viktor head towards the monster that was Ben and Jennifer. The creature growled, as it hurdled towards your group.

You turned back as you felt someone grab your arm, Five was standing behind you. You saw something in him that you had only seen a few times before, fear.

"Please. If we don't make it through this I want to make sure we're okay." Five begged for your forgiveness.

In any other circumstance you would not have given in this easily, but the dire situation has just begun to settle in. This could be it.

Neither of you wanted to leave this world with so many words unsaid.

Your gaze softened, and you followed Five away from the other Hargreeve's.

"I know what I did was wrong. With every bone in my body I feel that it was wrong."

He spoke loudly enough to drown out the oncoming chaos, but softly enough to omit any sort of aggression.

Five reached for your hands, and you reluctantly let him take them.

Five paused for a moment, trying to find the words that would mean the most, considering he was dealing with limited time.

"My worst fear is to see you suffer, and at the time, running away seemed like my only escape. I feel like I've already caused so much hardship in your life, and the thought of any more terrified me." His eyes stayed glued to you.

Five was the whole reason you had joined The Commission to begin with. He helped you to believe in a cause that you otherwise wouldn't have, and the two of you hadn't left each other's side since.

You didn't regret it per say, but you couldn't deny that you often wished for a different life. You would never blame any of your circumstances on Five though, and you hated how he always chose to blame himself.

"Nothing that has happened to me, or to anyone, is your fault. I think all of us share some responsibility, but blaming yourself is just wrong." You squeezed Five's clammy hands.

Five let out a sigh of relief as he was able to recognize forgiveness in your eyes.

"I love you." He said, fighting the tears that began to form in the corners of his eyes. The phrase was reserved only for you, as it is a concept that has always been hard for five.

Growing up with Reginald as a father, and a family that could win an Olympic gold medal in dysfunctionality, Five didn't exactly have a positive outlook on love.

"I love you too. We've been through worse, we'll get through this too."

Five pulled you into a tight hug, breathing you in as if it was the last chance he would ever get to hold you. The two of you were versed in the end of the world, this was not the first final hug you had shared. Five placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, and he didn't miss the small cry that escaped your lips.

You rarely cried, and when you did it was always around Five. He was the only person you felt comfortable enough with to show vulnerability. It was the perfect moment, and the past few days had worn down your patience. You reluctantly let a few tears slip loose.

"Get your asses over here love birds, Ben is here." Diego called from the other side of the room.

You and Five exchanged a look before running over to the center of the room and rejoining your family.

Ben growled ferociously, the red goo that dripped from his body falling around the room.

"Just so you guys know, I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. So if we all die, I apologize in advance." Viktor said, clenching his fists on either side.

His newly improved orange power began to swirl around his body. He squeezed his eyes shut, clearly focusing on the task at hand.

You reached for Five's hand, interlocking your fingers with his. If these were to be your last moments, you wanted to make sure he was with you.

Five gripped your hand with everything he had in him, every bit of strength was to remind you of his presence.

With each moment that passed, the colorful plume of Viktor's powers grew, encasing not only Ben and Jennifer, but all of you.

You and Five watched as the all too familiar gold marigold specks began to float through the air. It felt odd, it didn't hurt, but it wasn't a particularly pleasant feeling. It was like your whole body was being poked by a prickly cactus.

The air turned cold, and all other sounds were overcome by the rumbling of Viktor's power.

An unbearable wave of exhaustion washed over you, and it became hard for you to keep your eyes open.

You looked over at Five, making eye contact with him one last time. He gave you his signature smirk, funny how in spite of everything he could still be himself.

The last thing you saw was Ben falling to the floor, the marigold protruding from him filling the whole room with a deep yellow glow.

And just like that, the world turned black.

· · ─────── ·☂· ─────── · ☂ · ─────── ·☂· ─────── · ·

Five opened his eyes, the bright light of day overwhelming his vision. The ground beneath him was soft, the tall grass tickling his fingertips.

Five sat up slowly, his eyes adjusting to the sun. He looked over next to him, and there you were. Just as you had always been, right by his side. Your chest rose slowly, a thankful sign that you were still alive.

Five looked beyond you, to see his siblings all scattered around the lawn. They were all exactly where they had been before the blackout. The empty patch of grass, of course, was where the Hargreeve's mansion used to stand.

Without the existence of their powers, The Umbrella Academy was never formed. It was strange, to know that what Five remembered, no one else did. It was like waking up from a strange dream.

However, one thing was missing, Ben. And of course Jennifer. Five wasn't surprised that they hadn't made it, considering how their bodies were overtaken.

Five watched as his siblings slowly began to rise from their temporary comas, their eyes heavy and glazed over.

Five nudged you slightly. Unable to wait for you to wake, wanting to share this beautiful moment with you.

You opened your eyes and felt as if you had awoken from a decades long slumber. The first thing you saw was Five next to you, a genuine smile on his face. That was something you had missed.

"Are we in heaven?" Klaus mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"Well if this was heaven, I'd be awfully disappointed." Lila replied.

You laughed to yourself, and stood up on wobbly legs.

You all had done it.

"Viktor. I think you might have just saved the world." Luther announced.

Viktor smiled and looked down, maybe eventually he'd let himself take the credit.

You began to take in your surroundings. The sound of traffic in the distance, the wind stinging your cheek, the smell of spring air. It was all so normal.

"Guys, where's Ben?" Klaus asked, and your heart dropped.

"Klaus...we all knew he probably wouldn't make it.." Alison said sadly.

Just then, something caught your eye. Something yellow that stuck out in the patch of green.

"Guys, look!" You pointed at the unique plant.

"Marigolds." Five said softly, and you felt his hand close around yours.

Two beautiful yellow flowers sprouted from the earth, a reminder of what was sacrificed. A reminder of what had to happen for all of this to exist, and a symbol of hope.

~~ Two Years Later ~~

You awoke to the sound of birds chirping outside your window, a song that was often your wake-up call. You rolled over to see Five sleeping peacefully next to you. You weren't surprised. He always slept late, after all, he was an old man at heart.

It had been two years of living freely in the new timeline. You and Five now share an apartment next to Lila and Diego and their three kids.

Life wasn't without its challenges, but compared to everything else the two of you had been through this was paradise.

Viktor had started his own Cafe, a small shop on a street corner that had quickly become a local favorite.

Alison had landed a big movie role not long after everything returned to normal. Ever since it hit the big screen, she had no problem with job offers. She didn't even miss her power of persuasion.

Klaus still lives with Alison. He doesn't really do anything specific, he often refers to himself as 'self-employed'. But he was happy, and that was all that really mattered.

Luther had somehow reconnected with Sloane, who had re-appeared after the timeline was fixed. Of course she didn't remember anything, but it must've been fate because they got to fall in love all over again.

Diego decided to put his skills acquired from his power to use and now taught axe throwing classes.

Lila had decided to help people who had ended up in a mental hospital, similar to how she had. She was working on getting her degree in psychology.

As for you and Five. Five kept his CIA job, and you decided to join him in his career. As the two of you had always done everything together, why not this too?

You felt Five stir next to you, letting out a series of groans. He slowly opened his eyes, a smile spreading across his face the moment he saw you.

"Good morning, beautiful." His morning voice is thick and deep.

"I love you." You whispered, pushing his messy hair out of his eyes.

Five leaned up to kiss you but you counteracted it by jumping out of bed. You pulled the blanket off of him and he whined in protest.

"Time to get up, Gramps, Lila wants us to drive the kids to school today."

Five rolled his eyes at the nickname. You snickered and kissed him on the cheek before heading to the bathroom to get ready.

After the two of you grabbed breakfast, you met Lila outside, Grace and the twins behind her.

"Thank you again for helping us out with this, I don't know how I'd ever get to work on time without you." Lila gave you a quick hug.

"Of course, whatever you need." You ushered her away, signaling that you could take it from here.

You were used to driving the kids places, and they always said you were their favorite aunt. Five however, could not surpass Klaus for favorite uncle.

"Alright guys, who's ready for school?" You said as you jumped in the driver's seat.

There was a chorus of enthusiastic cheers from the back, and you laughed.

"I was never that excited about school when I was your age." The kids had no idea how long ago that actually was for you.

You made sure to put on some kid friendly music, anything but Baby Shark. You dropped the kids off and made sure they all got inside safely.

"Anything else on the schedule for today?" Five asked you.

"Nope, we're both off today so I think the rest of our day is free."

"Great, we should do absolutely nothing." Five's eyes lit up with excitement.

You nodded in agreement and drove towards your home.

Once you arrived, the both of you threw on pajamas and cuddled up in bed. Five flung his arms around you and rested his head on your shoulder, simultaneously letting out a big sigh.

"I love you." He mumbled in your ear.

Even after all these years he still made you blush every time he said those three little words.

"I love you more." You pressed a kiss to Five's nose and he scrunched it up before responding with a chaste kiss to your lips.

After breaking apart you and Five settled into each other's arms, excited to spend a calm day together.

He reached for the remote and flicked on the TV. The small kiss he placed on your forehead didn't go unnoticed.

As Five settled into this new life, he found it hard not to expect a new life altering crisis to pop up at any moment. But it never did.

As the day dragged on, nothing out of the ordinary happened; and you could almost say that it was an ordinary day.

Taglist: @xreader-writing @dorkyfangirl24 @dinorawrss @anne-oop @ladynaviamin @i-amtrash @patchesofdreams @sarbear33 @marinalor

[yandere-wishes]

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆Doc-Ringo⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

✮ Yandere! Boothill x Reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Plot: There's a slick black-clad little gal who's been messing with his bounties recently. Boothill's been dying to rustle her up and take a bite

⁀➷ Warnings: Yandere behavior, blood, and gore, war trauma, Genie trying to do a cowboy accent.

⁺₊𝄞��⁺: Crimson and Clover by Joan Jett

And I don't hardly know her,

But I think I can love her,

Ah, now when she comes walking over,

I've been waiting to show her,

My mind's such a sweet thing

I want to do everything

What a beautiful feeling

It's not like the movies, they fed us on little white lies.

~💜

The first time he sees you there's a tempest of bullets rattling off his chest. Metal singing metal, as shells vie for an opening. It's all very lethal,

like the center of a rabid dust storm. Kissing death and sucking in her poison. Boothill can't tell where the bullets are coming from only that there's a dozen at a time ringing over his head. He shields his face with the metal of his forearms peaking through the gap to catch a glimpse of black.

Pure black.

That's the first thing he notices as your frenzy yields, You're clad in black from head to toe, even going so far as to dawn an eerie familiar mask. He's seen this scene play out somewhere before, he just can't remember where. "Morning mister", he likes that voice, jejune and teeming with confidence. It reminds him of himself, back when the sunset used to mean something and he could still feel wheat stocks under his soft palms.

"Howdy lil'lady I reckon you're in my way. Mind stepping aside before you get yourself hurt?" Your answer comes in the form of an aimed pistol, spine straight, midnight serape caught on the wind. He thinks you look a little too much like the folks back home -back when there was a home- blood boiling over eager for a fight. His bounty is standing just over yonder, blocked partly by your stubborn shadow. Boothill doesn't think twice before firing two rounds.

He's met with four...

He's in a cheap motel on Penacony, screwing in bolts that came loose. In the end, you laid claim to his bounty. Dragging him away to the hills. He's left growling at the thought, bested by a muddle-fudging fox. Lil gal probably ain't never even been in a proper shoot-out. The screwdriver cracks under his metal fingers. Boothill ain't about to start letting some pretty little thing get in the way of him and his targets.

The TV screen flickers to a melancholy monochrome. The films are old, distorted, crippled in parts. But he keeps them around, much like everything else about him, it's a bygone thing refusing to die.

He still likes to play them from time to time, trying to elicit the tastes of home. Hearing Nick and Graey setting plates out for dinner as his siblings rush downstairs. The movies are older than the new universe in more ways than one.

They come from a simpler time.

He'd always wondered why someone would bother painting such precious things in black and white. Spilling melancholia into picture frames, leaving everything tasting of vodka and vanilla.

It doesn't matter though, not really. All that matters is the sound of hooves on sand and bullets shooting. So long as the cowboys live their stories, everything else can be forgiven.

But this time something's off. The bandit's black mask shines through, gleaming something awful making him grind his sharp teeth. That damn mask, sitting pretty over a sly smirk. it reminds him of you, little cutie with your slick attitude. What bandit goes around doing hero's work anyway? What kinda twisted little lady are you?

He's getting mighty sick of this. Do you think you own the universe or something? "Been seeing way too much of you lately." There's sand in his Synesthesia Beacon his voice coming out horse, brittle. He kicks the head of an IPC lackey trying to drive home a point. "You getting on my nerves cutie". The ground looks nothing short of a graveyard, bodies scattered some piled. The blood paints the sands in a deep maroon, reflecting the glint of the distant stars. The last soldier is cowering behind you, his whimpers singing in Boothill's ears, one more bullet, that's all it'll take. "This one's mine" you mutter, and he wonders for a moment if the dry weather is getting to you too. "Not a chance pumpkin" his gun's drawn, firing bullets before you can even feel for your holster. The smirking bullet impales your abdomen, aimed point blank at the officer's head. But before the last body can be claimed you kick the man out of the way.

"Damn it" Boothill's anger is tangible, he knows you can feel it between your teeth. He's going to kill you, tear off that star-saken mask, and riddle you with bullets. You're getting too confident.

He doesn't notice your bullets at first. Protostars trying to act all rough and mighty. There's a temporary cluster of dust, a fraction of a second where his eyes aren't pinning you down. That's all it takes and then you're off. Sinking into the darkness and swimming away, taking his target with you.

It's only after the initial anger wears off that Boothill notices a tear on his thigh. A letter scrawled on the frayed leather of his pants. So you've started leaving your own marks, ay cutie?

He almost wishes he could feel the sting of your blade on his flesh. Feel your nails scrapping along his shoulders as he pins you to the ground.

Boothill fires at the moon.

Next time.

Next time for sure....

He's been chasing you for some time now. But catching up with you isn't as easy as he first thought. Seems like you go wherever the wind takes you and he's too busy with revenge to be following your capricious whims. The IPC ain't going to kill itself you know. And Boothill damn well wishes you'd start sitting still. He's heard from a reliable source that the IPC soldiers are throwing a little get to together down in one of the bars. Just a happy birthday for a colleague, nothing fancy. The thought alone makes his mouth water, place will be crawling with pests just waiting to be gunned down. Maybe tomorrow he'll try looking for you again, but tonight? Tonight's his night.

The neons have dulled now, they never were terribly bright to begin with. Penacony may be the land of dreams but not even dreams can stop reality from seeping through. The bar's loud, some new pop singer's music blasting from every speaker. Boothill downs his drink, liking how the ice cubes chime like a bad omen. He shoots the speakers first, needing some peace to focus on what comes next. The peace corp's lackeys are drunk, they stumble over themselves trying to reach him. He shoots each one like a kid playing carnival games. It's almost too easy...

The door is stampeded over by a heard of reinforcements. Somehow even in his drunken daze one of those yella-bellied lapdogs called for help. They're swarming the place like panicked rats, pushing past tables and chairs. Firearms aimed at his head. And for the first time, in a long, long time, Boothill feels a sliver of panic run down his bionic spine.

Motherfudger...

Boothill hears the familiar tumult of bodies hitting the ground before he sees what's actually going on. He feels you before he actually sees you. You're pushed up against his back, guns drawn locked, and loaded. "Heard you needed some help" Even though you offer your usual bravado, Boothill still picks up the nervous lilt in your voice, despite everything he thinks he likes it. It almost tastes sweet. "Best get away before you get yourself hurt little fox." "And let you have all the fun? Never."

"Certe murmur pugnando" Boothill laughs, he remembers those very words coming from a buddy of his before a duel. 'At least we'll die fighting' Somethings never change, even if you've carved out every principle from your body with a rusted kitchen knife. You'll always have those pesky morals stuck inside. He hears you chuckle, wonders if you find it odd that a rowdy galaxy ranger such as himself knows a dead language.

Well, he knows a lot about the dead.

The shoot-out lasts longer than he'd have expected.

But the real surprise lies in how neither of you are dead. Boothill's half laid across the bar, looking at you from under his hat. You're making him a drink following his instruction like a good little wife, not contradiction dressed in ebony. Gunpowder withers on his tongue, the bullet smoke permeates the air mixing with the gleeful tang of spilled blood. "Your drinks sure are complicated" you mutter pushing him his cup before picking up a bottle and reading its labels. "What's so hard about it pumpkin? Little bit of white gem and gin. All's you need." He sips your drink slowly, savoring your flavor. He imagines he's gulping you down, holding you for ransom behind his teeth, feeling your delicate little fists pounding against him. "I don't drink" you mumble as you sit across from him, you look so damn elegant, like a little princess from a fairy tale he use to read to a certain someone. You drink deeply from your glass of ice and water. Boothill focuses on the gentle motion of your throat. He licks his lips, trying to push down the thought of ringing such a fragile thing between his palms.

"So little lady, s'about time you start answering some questions...The hell you doing? Running off with my targets?" You set your cup down, eyes locking on his, there's the deficiency he's missed all night. The trigger hair that's just waiting for the right push. "They're not your targets...not really. They're just people. People whose planet got muffed up. I've been trying to gather them all in one place." For a second Boothill thinks you're talking about his planet, his home, his people. But it only takes one more look at you to understand.

"So, how'd yours die?" There's shrapnel in his throat when he asks, open wounds bleeding once more, filling his throat with bitter memories.

You stiffen, and he knows he's thumbing a broken bone, letting his finger dig between the cracks and snapping their frail linings. "Don't know, wasn't there. All I ever got to see were a few limbs, nothing enough to make a full person." you squeeze the glass until your knuckles turn white.

There's vindication rooted in your veins.

He knows the feeling all too well.

"We ain't so different you and I, reckon we make a pretty good team." His metal fingers lace between your soft skin, tracing the lifelines like an old map.

There's a goldmine hidden behind your lips, he imagines he'll have to kiss you to find the little nuggets. Your lips part, eyes filled with an odd-looking sympathy. What he wouldn't give to feel your plump lips bleed between his jagged teeth. "So..." you ask as his mechanic heart skips a beat. "What about yours?"

You've been laughing for five whole minutes. Boothill shouldn't find the noise as ethereal as he does. His anger lays heavily on his bones, he should be even angrier, lounging a bullet through your thick skull. But he finds the noise a little too perfect to disturb its source. Even if it's only created at his expense. Instead, he has half a mind to slap you, hard enough to shut you u and another to kiss you so hard you forget to breathe. "Damn hell so funny, cutie"

You look at him with those luminous eyes. Filled with pain and riddles. Boothill never did like solving puzzles. He only likes tearing things into bits. He needs you spartan, easy to read and use, and kiss. Not something he needs to piece together first.

"Dear stars you have no freaking idea how ironic you are." You say between bursts of spiteful-rooted giggles.

Why do those words sound so haunting like a ghost kiss? they should open phantom pains, but they sure as hell don't. Why do you always leave his head spinning? Boothill rolls his eyes, then leans over to pull down your mask. You jerk back, rewarding him with a dark grimace. You're out the window before he can ask your name.

"See you next time, cowboy"

"Next time I'm drawing blood"

The moment's over.

Fiddlesticks..

That night, Boothill dreams of you. He's lying in a stiff musty bed. It's too dark, even the moon is scared of showing her face.

Boothill dreams of the old saloons back home. Of their cracked wooden floorboards and the worn-out plush of chairs. In the dreams, you're wearing a black lace gown, like the saloon girls used to. He finds it all too funny that even in his dreams you still haunt him in black. Only now you're smiling, really smiling. Not that sly smirk, or mirthless grin you gave him back in the bar on Penacony. No, this here is a genuine smile and he's damn sure he's the one who put it there. You reach out for his hand, he feels warmth.

His

Yours

The dream is thick and dense like swimming through molasses. In another scene he's dragging you through the old doors, laughing as bullets and card chips hit the floor. There's a horse waiting outside. His horse. At least he thinks it used to be his. He pulls you up roughly in front of him. He's high off the feeling of his fingers wrapped around the rugged reins. High off the steed he holds in a vice grip between his thighs.

He's riding faster than he's ever ridden before, clambering for the sunset trying to engulf the sun. You hold on tight, pressing your cheek to his chest. His heart is beating something fierce between his ribs. He feels like an Aeon watching the universe collapse under his galloping feet.

He feels alive.

With the sun's rays behind you, Boothill could almost mistake you for the star-dwelling angels Nick used to tell him about. There's something poetic in all of this. The cowboy standing off against the black fox.

Dare he call it cinematic?

Boothill creeps closer. Tilting his hat and watching you flash a nervous smile through his lashes. "Volo sentire te inter dentes meos" so you know that dead tongue too. "You will soon darling, that's what I'm hoping for" his reply only dwindles your smile.

He's missed the old duels. Missed staring into the eyes of the one who could kill you. It's all a matter of skill and luck. Whose faster, who the aeon will trust?

Somewhere in the distance, the tumble weeds begin to rattle.

"Now"

His bullet glides through the air, piercing through the dust and sand. Your bullet reverberates from your gun a fraction too late and ricochets past his cheek. Leaving a juicy trail of blood.

But his bullet was aimed at your chest.

And Boothill never misses...

You want vengeance he won't deny you it.

So long as you stay by his side.

He'll tuck you away somewhere safe.

Somewhere you won't be leaving him again.

Boothill cradles your body to his chest. "I promised you blood little fox, and Boothill never goes back on his word." His cheeks hurt from smiling as he lays his hat atop your head. He's Picking you up and walking into the sunset. He knows a good ol'doc who'll patch you right up. And then it's a happy life together.

Well for him anyway.

The end

Taglist: @hihellomy @salhanskkdbfkekfb @gasoline-eater @sp1cym0chi

[chimielie]

what it is

summary: Oikawa x Reader. he makes it out of the friendzone (with some help)

word count: 1.3k

cw: nothing, oikawa in glasses

a/n: i wrote this in under an hour while heavily caffeinated?;!;!4& brain melting

“You’re late,” you say with a grin. Oikawa Tooru pouts at you, his team jacket folded over his arms. He’s already changed out of uniform, you notice; must have exchanged it for a white t-shirt and slacks in the locker room.

“I was swarmed,” he claims as the two of you start to walk together. You roll your eyes and don’t even bother making a jab about his popularity with the girls (and people of all genders, really). At this point, you’ve accepted that deranged fans come with the territory of being friends with the volleyball team captain.

You met Oikawa on the first day of your first year at Aoba Johsai and had been friends ever since. Even though you had no interest in the sport at first, his love for volleyball was infectious. He had even roped you into being the team’s manager. You still weren’t sure how he had pulled that off, but you didn’t mind too much—you’d grown to love the team and the sport too, in your own way.

Despite your closeness, you’d never really understood why he had a fan club, especially as a teenage school athlete. You expected his popularity to grow when (not if) he went professional, but the idea of swooning over some guy you had pre-calculus classes with was totally foreign to you. It was a running joke among your friends that you were immune to Oikawa’s looks and charming magnetism (and, honestly, to all four of the team’s upperclassmen. You could acknowledge how objectively attractive they all were even though none of them seemed to fit your niche).

Sometimes, you caught Oikawa making strange expressions while your friends teased you about not liking him. It felt like you were the only one who noticed these kinds of things, sometimes. You really liked being able to read him so easily: both of you had saved each other under the contact name “Platonic Soulmate” in your phones.

You chalked up the weird faces to your friend’s first-rate ego, and even though you knew that the notion of one person not being desperately in love with him wouldn’t scratch the surface of his self-esteem, you always found yourself taking his hand surreptitiously or leaning your head on his shoulder when you did see him looking mopey. He always perked up, after that, and all would be sunshine again.

Today, everyone else had bailed on you when you suggested a joint ice-cream-and-study-date before next week’s exams. Iwaizumi had claimed that Oikawa was too loud and always distracted him, so he couldn’t seriously try to study together. Matsukawa had to babysit and refused to bring the brats, as he affectionately called his siblings, to get sweets. Hanamaki had just quirked his eyebrows at you and said, “I don’t feel like third wheeling. Thanks, but no thanks.”

You hadn’t really understood what he meant, but you hadn’t questioned it.

Oikawa had almost begged off to do some solo practice, too, but you’d made a fuss about nearing the end of your high school experience and worrying that you would fall out of touch when volleyball became his whole life (even moreso than it was now!), and he’d caved with an overdramatic sigh and a soft look that told you he wasn’t all that mad about your guilt-tripping.

You’re broken from your thoughts when you reach the ice-cream shop, Oikawa jabbering in your ear about some drama you can’t keep up with.

“And then she told me—ah, I can’t read the menu. You know, they were late refilling my contact prescription this month, so I’ve been carrying around my glasses, I hate it. So unflattering.”

You worry your lip as you stare at the flavor chart, barely listening to him talk.

“I’m sure it’s,” you start, turning to him as he slides the case out of his pocket and puts the frames on his face in a smooth motion. “Um.”

The glasses are not unflattering, you think dumbly, staring at him, your sentence hanging unfinished. The glasses perch on his nose perfectly, making you appreciate, for the first time, the shape of his nose and his cheekbones. Had they always been that sharp? And since when had his eyes been so pretty, reflecting the sunlight in so many shades, framed with long eyelashes that would have made you jealous if you weren’t so—

You reach out and lift the glasses off his face slowly, hoping that the old, familiar features that you’d never felt anything but friendship-friendly feelings towards would return. You can still see it, though: the divot of his Cupid’s bow is appealing, now, his smooth skin glowing to you, his surprised expression fucking adorable. You drop the frames back onto his nose.

Very abruptly, whatever immunity you once had to Oikawa’s looks is demolished in one fell swoop.

“I have to go have a midlife crisis,” you say decisively, and march out of the shop.

“Hey! What—where are you going? You’re not even middle-aged?” Oikawa calls after you, and you try steadfastly to ignore him, but every sense seems to have been awakened to your friend. Your face flushes, and you start walking faster, nearing the pace of a jog even though your limbs are stiff.

You finally pull over in a quieter, slightly more secluded spot between two buildings. You lean against the wall, closing your eyes, trying to remind yourself to take deep breaths.

“Are you okay?” Oikawa says, and you curse his long, athlete legs for having followed you so swiftly. “What’s wrong?”

You open your eyes. He’s still wearing the fucking glasses. Rest in peace, you think to yourself, surely my heart is going to give up soon, at the rate it’s going. Your lips part, but you can’t seem to get the words out. His worried gaze studies you until he finds something—exactly whatever you didn’t want him to see. A slow smile unfurls over his face, and you narrow your eyes. Ugh, how dare his smugness be attractive too, now?

“I should wear the glasses more often, huh?” He says, and you shake your head no frantically.

“Please don’t,” you say. “It’s, like, it doesn’t even matter anymore, anyway, I can’t unsee it now.”

“Unsee what?” He cocks his head, and he’s getting closer, and there’s nowhere to back away from him because you’re up against a wall—

“You’re hot!” You wail. “I saw it and I’m never gonna stop thinking it now, it doesn’t even matter what you wear, I’m doomed! This is the worst thing ever, ‘Kawa, how’m I supposed to go on… I can’t be your friend and a part of your fan club. I don’t think I can even be a part of your fan club ‘cause I don’t just think you’re hot, I think I have a crush on you—oh, my God, I have a c—”

Your increasingly frantic rambling is cut off by Oikawa sealing his lips to yours. The kiss is quick and sweet, and when he pulls away he still looks so, so handsome, and so concerned.

“Please breathe,” he says, and you nod, gaping at him in shock. “I like you too, okay? Please stop having a crisis.

“Okay,” you exhale, bracing your hands on his shoulders. “Okay. I’m still freaking out, though. I think the only way to stop it is to keep kissing me.”

Oikawa heaves a big, overdramatic sigh, and leans in, his glasses bumping your face; giving in to you, just like he always does.

[wintfleur]

can we have a blurb of stella and her siblings when there younger, maybe stella getting hurt?

ꔫ broken bratz dolls and hello kitty band-aids

°. — pairings ( Estella Hughes oc! X siblings! Hughes brothers )

°. — details ( g; fluff, little bit of angst, siblings being siblings. w; mentions of blood and sibling fights, Stella being the cutest, Jack just having a emotional moment, Luke being Stella’s protector, and Quinn being a tired big brother. wc; 2k )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I love writing the Hughes sibling dynamic sm! Thank you for requesting, I really hope you guys enjoy this!! Please don’t be a silent reader, I love to hear your thoughts!! )

°. — ( Stella is 5, Luke is 6, Jack is 8, Quinn is 10 )

°. — ( feel free to send any requests of things you would like to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts! I would absolutely love that! Please comment if you would like to be added to the tag list! )

au masterlist — you can find asks under #💌stellahughes!

It was a regular day for the four Hughes siblings. The two eldest brothers were dressed in their favorite jerseys and hockey gear as they practiced shooting. The youngest brother was playing with his dump trucks in the dirt, and Stella was playing in the grass with her bratz dolls, she was wearing a pink sundress that matched with her cloe doll. Her hair was a mess, she had asked Luke to try to recreate the ponytails one of her dolls had with her hair. 

“And Jack Hughes scores” Jack cheers after his goal, a big smile on his lips and even though Quinn was annoyed that he scored on him the older brother couldn't help but smile too as Jack celebrates. Stella paid no attention to her cheering brother as she moved from the grass to the driveway, looking for the missing guitar for her doll. Her eyes light up when she sees it laying in the middle of the driveway, it must have fallen out of her basket when she ran from Luke who was chasing her with a handful of dirt earlier. 

“Watch my sick celly” Jack shouts at Quinn, holding his stick out and spinning around. The grin on Jack's face from scoring quickly vanishes at the horrifying sound of the toe of his hockey stick smacking against something as he spins around. Stella was so caught up in her own imagination to notice her brother and his stick until it's too late. Jack’s eyes widen in fear as he watches Stella fall back on her butt, the doll in her hands falling and breaking. Her favorite doll. 

Quinn and Luke's eyes are immediately drawn to the loud sound of the smack and their eyes widen at the sight of their little sister on the ground of the driveway and Jack standing in front of her with his hockey stick in the air. The three brothers watch as blood starts to drip down from her quivering lip and down her now red chin, her big brown eyes are immediately filled with tears that quickly roll down her face. She silently cried for a few seconds as she was still in shock, but her brothers watched as she brought her dirty hands to cover her bloody lip, loud sobs leaving her body. It happened so fast. 

Quinn immediately skated to her side, dropping down to his knees and trying to pry her dirty hands from her face. He muttered reassuring words to Stella, trying to convince her to move her hands so he could see but she just cried harder. Quinn looked at Jack who still stood there in shock, there was so much blood coming from her lip and dripping down her face and onto her pink dress, Quinn shouted at Jack to go get mom. 

Jack quickly nodded and dropped his stick, turning around and quickly skating towards the front door. Luke, who was watching the scene with a look of fear, turns into a look of anger as he drops his toy truck and rushes to his feet, a sound of surprise and pain leaving Jack's lips when he's jumped on from behind. Jack lets out a cry of pain when he feels his chin get cut on the driveway at the impact. 

“Get off me” Jack screeches at Luke, a shout of pain follows when Luke tugs on Jack's hair, his knee digging into his back. Quinn looks at his brothers in disbelief, yelling at them to stop. Luke, who was angry at Jack for hurting Stella, doesn't stop his attack. Stella starts to sob louder, absentmindedly leaning against Quinn as Jack and Luke continue to shout at each other. Quinn tries to calm Stella but he himself was getting overwhelmed, thankfully the shouts of Jack and Luke got the attention of their mother who was getting ready to start on dinner. 

 “What is going on here” Ellen shouted as she rushed out of the house, she left her children alone for 5 minutes to preheat the oven and she's welcomed back with a brawl. Ellen moves to her two youngest sons and pulls an angry Luke off a crying jack. “Luke, get off your brother now!” 

“Mom!” Quinn shouts her name to get her attention. Ellen looks away from her sons and a worried gasp leaves her lips at the sight of her bleeding and crying daughter. She rushes over to her only daughter; she didn't hear Stella's cries over her son's shouts. “It's okay, let me see” Ellen coos as she pulls Stella's hands from her face, Ellen holds in her wince at the sight and moves her hands under Stella's armpits to pick her up and bring her to her chest. 

“Inside you two, i expect a good explanation on what happened” Ellen scolds her two youngest boys as she rushes a still crying stella into the house. Quinn helps Jack up from the ground while a glaring Luke follows after Stella and their mom, Jack pushes Quinn's hand off him and quickly wipes off his tears before shouting at Quinn. “I’m a terrible brother! Luke and Stella hate me!”  

“They don't hate you” Quinn starts but before he could finish comforting his brother, Jack quickly skates off into the open garage, jack pressing on the button to close the garage behind him. Quinn sighs and takes off his skates before entering the house through the front door, he knows jack would need a moment to himself, he was an emotional boy. 

Quinn hears the sound of Stella's crying as he walks into the kitchen. Stella was sitting on the counter with Luke by her side, holding her hand while their mom stood in front of her and tried to clean the blood off her face so she could clean the cut and bandage it. Stella's eyes go to Quinn, and she immediately cries out for her big brother “Quinny it hurts.” 

“I know but moms gonna fix it all up and it won't hurt anymore” Quinn spoke softly as he moved to his mother's side, holding onto Stella's other hand. Stella squeezes her brother's hand tightly when Ellen starts to clean the cut. Stella sniffles and blinks away her tears “Promise?” 

“I promise” Quinn promises, softly squeezing her hand back. Ellen smiles proudly at her eldest child, before pulling out Stella's favorite band aids. Jack quietly walked into the kitchen, and he felt even more guilty as he watched his mom fix up Stella's lip and chin. He honestly didn't mean to hurt her, he would never! Jack makes eye contact with Luke who is already glaring at him. Yeah, he felt really guilty. 

Jim was not expecting this sight when he walked into the living room after he got home from work. It was oddly quiet in the house, and that was rare.  His four children were sitting side by side on the couch, Luke sat at the end of the couch with his arms crossed and a glare on his face. Sitting to his left was Stella, she was now in a new dress and her chin and lip was decorated with her favorite hello kitty band aids. 

On Stella's other side was Quinn who was holding her hand as she rested her head on his shoulder. Then there was Jack who sat on the other side of Quinn, his arms were crossed as well as he angrily looked down at his socks. Jack, who looked up once his dad walked into the living room could be seen with a pink hello kitty band aid on his chin. 

“What's going on here?” Jim asked his wife and children, moving to stand by his wife's side. Ellen was standing in front of their children, just finished questioning their kids about what had occurred outside. Ellen greeted her husband with a smile and crossed her arms as she looked back at her kids “Why don't you guys tell your father what happened, hmm.” 

None of the kids spoke up, Quinn sat there as still as a statue as Stella snuggled closer to him and hid her face in his shoulder. Luke kept on giving Jack the side eye with a glare on his face and Jack refused to look up from his dinosaur patterned sock covered feet. Ellen sighed and tilted her head to look at her husband, telling him what had happened between their children. 

“Luke, why did you hit your brother?” Jim questioned his youngest son, crossing his arms as well. It wasn't like Luke to start fights with his siblings, especially physical ones. Jack rolled his eyes while Quinn turned his head to look at his youngest brother, curious on what he was going to say. Luke sent jack an accusatory glare before looking up at his parents “He made stella cry and break her doll.” 

Jack's jaw and fists clench as he listens to Luke retell the story of him hitting Stella with his stick, he felt tears of anger form in his eyes the more Luke talked. Jack couldn't hold it in anymore, he jumped to his feet and shouted out emotionally “It was an accident” Jack continued to speak loudly as fresh tears rolled down his face, his fists clenched at his side “I didn't mean to hurt you stella! I’m really sorry, and I’m sorry i broke your doll ⸺ I’ll sell all my toys and get you a new one!” 

Luke and Quinn’s eyes widened at their brother's outburst, and Luke started to feel guilty as he watched his older brother break down. Ellen moved to step towards Jack so she could comfort her son, her heart hurting at the sight of him crying so hard. But before Ellen could reach out to pull Jack into her arms, someone beat her to it. 

The rest of the family watched as Stella tried her best to wrap her arms around Jack's waist, resting her chin on Jack's chest and looking up at him with her brown doe eyes. Jack was quick to hug her back tightly as she spoke in her soft voice “It’s okay jacky i know you didn't mean to, please don't cry.” 

Quinn nudged Luke's shoulder causing the youngest brother to give him an annoyed look. Quinn mouthed at Luke to apologize to Jack, Luke huffed before he got off the couch and moved over to his brother and sister, Quinn rolling his eyes at Luke's dramatics. Luke lets out a loud groan and opens his mouth to complain when Jack pulls him into joining their hug but closes his mouth at the look Stella gave him before she turned her head to Quinn, her eyes begging him to join their group hug. 

Quinn shakes his head no, but he lets out a defeated sigh and stands up once Stella pulls out her signature move of her puppy dog eyes and quivering lip. Stella smiles triumphantly and pulls her eldest brother into the hug, smiling happily at the feeling of her and Jack being smushed into the middle of the hug. 

“So, you and Luke don't hate me?” Jack asks but it comes out muffled since his face was being smushed into Quinn's chest. Stella giggles and luke shakes his head, luke mumbles “I don't hate you jack, but you said to beat up anyone who makes stell cry” Stella moves her head from luke’s chest and gives jack a toothy smile “I don't hate you jacky, but you have to get me a new dress too!” 

Ellen smiles and leans against her husband's side, the parents watching as their kids continue to hug and listen as Stella excitedly talks about the new pink dress she wanted. Ellen kisses Jim’s cheek and whispers “C’mon let's go finish up dinner” the parents leave the living room, but none of the kids notice, they were too caught up in their new conversation. 

Jim and Ellen finished making the family their dinner as they listened to their children talk and laugh from the living room, grateful to be raising such good children.

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I LOVE THEM SM, please tell my what you like the most? )

°. — taglist ( @privatemythss @juraj-slafkovsky @cixrosie @toasttt11 )

[clumsyromantic]

NOT ANOTHER RAINBOW LEGACY CHALLENGE

Welcome to this ten generation legacy challenge based on vibrant colors! Inspired by all the other color themed legacies out there, because who doesn’t like basing their sims whole personality on a color (I know I’m a sucker for it lol). I won’t put a long list of rules here, because at the end of the day I want this to be your gameplay and story that you create. I will suggest that you follow each generation, but if something isn’t to your liking, by all means, change it for yourself. With that being said, don’t claim this challenge as your own, even if you tweak it. Remember, though, legacy challenges are all about having fun!

If you play don't forget to tag me here or on instagram @clumsy.romantic or use the hashtag #notanotherlegacy. I would really love to see some gameplay/stories!

Generation One: Licorice.

You never stay in one place too long. As a criminal, you’re always on the run. You don’t commit to anything. The only thing you’ve ever truly loved and committed to is your career. When it comes to actual love, you dip as soon as it seems like things might get serious. You don’t like being that close to people, letting people in like that. You can’t trust anyone, or so you thought.

Traits: Evil, Non-Committal, Romantic. (Additional: Self-Assured, Mean)

Aspiration: Serial Romantic.

Career: Criminal.

Have more enemies than friends.

Have a child with an enemy.

Move to a different world each time you age up.

Only your child(ren) can be your partner in crime.

Get caught cheating at least once.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Mischief, Handiness and Programming skills.

[Packs used: None]

Generation Two: Pearl.

From the time you could hold things, you were coloring, drawing, painting, anything that could help you express yourself. You are the exact opposite of your parent. Maybe you’re like the other one? You wouldn’t know, though. You never met them, nor heard a single truth about them. That doesn’t matter, though, because as soon as you can, you move out of your parents home so that you can start your own life and family. Love isn’t easy, as you don’t truly know what it’s supposed to look like, but with how kind and caring you are, it almost comes easy to you.

Traits: Creative, Cheerful, Family-Oriented. (Additional: Loyal, Good)

Aspiration: Big Happy Family. 

Career: Painter.

Complete the Artist Prodigy as a child.

Move to a different world from your parent.

Marry someone with amazing compatibility (or someone with similar traits).

Have 5 children.

Have a bowling night with the family at least twice a week.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Painting, Parenting and Bowling skills.

[Packs used: High School Years, Growing Together, Parenthood, Bowling Night]

Generation Three: Latte.

You come from a big family, and you’ve always loved every bit of it. However, nothing can compare to the love you have for fitness. As a teenager, you become a simfluencer who models athletic wear and shows off your healthy lifestyle. As a Young Adult, you constantly have dogs. You tell yourself all you need is dogs, until you meet another fitness buff who you end up having a baby with.

Traits: Active, Dog Lover, Vegetarian. (Additional: Ambitious, Outgoing)

Aspiration: Friend of the Animals.

Career: Simfluencer.

Have a good relationship with your parents and siblings.

Go to the gym four times a week.

Change your hairstyle once a week.

Have at least 3 dogs as a YA.

Become a B-lister.

Have a baby with someone you meet at the gym (bonus points if they have the active skill).

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Fitness, Entrepreneur, Media Production, and Pet Training skills.

[Packs used: Cats & Dogs, High School Years, Get Famous]

Generation Four: Dandelion.

It was hard for you to relate to your parents, as they were much more outgoing and sociable than you were. Keeping up conversations and being around people always made you feel drained. You preferred being by yourself with a good book. It was usually a sci-fi book about robots. It’s no surprise that you’re the first in your family to go to university and you end up working in engineering. Your best friend, perhaps lover as well, is a robot you built. Seems like a good life to you.

Traits: Loner, Overachiever, Socially Awkward. (Additional: Bookworm, Geek)

Aspiration: Nerd Brain.

Career: Engineer.

Attend university.

Build a servo bot.

Be romantic partners with the servo.

Woohoo with the servo in the rocketship.

Only adopt or have science babies.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Logic, Handiness and Robotics skills.

[Packs used: High School Years, Discover University]

Generation Five: Emerald.

You want to make the world a better place for the next generations. Everything you do involves Mother Earth. You live off the land, garden and fish for your food. You raise chickens for your eggs and cows for your milk. You also fabricate and make things for yourself, others and your animals. Some of the things you create you sell on Plopsy for income. You have a baby with someone you’re engaged to be married to. But as soon as you can, you pack up and leave them, taking the baby with you.

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Maker, Freegan. (Additional: Green Fiend, Recycle Disciple)

Aspiration: Master Maker.

Career: Plopsy Seller.

Live in Evergreen Harbor (If you don’t already, move there as a YA).

Live in Port Promise, where you must make the eco footprint green.

Additional Challenge: have the Simple Living lot challenge in Evergreen.

Knitted and Fabricated items can be sold on Plopsy when you need simoleons.

Get engaged and try for a baby until one of you is pregnant.

Once you have reached green for the eco footprint; break off the engagement, take the baby and move to Sulani.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Knitting, Fishing, Gardening and Fabrication skills.

[Packs used: Eco Lifestyle, Nifty Knitting, Island Living]

Generation Six: Turquoise.

Growing up on a beautiful beach with your single parent doing everything for you made you into a spoiled brat. The only thing you actually want to do, besides sleep and chill, is fashion photography. You have a real eye for fashion. Although, you don’t really have a knack for picking up work. You’re more likely to be suntanning than actually doing your job. The few times you do accept a job, you fall in love with the model. Instead of falling happily in love together, you are constantly fighting, and to make matters worse, you have a kid together. Something neither of you wanted.

Traits: Self-Absorbed, Lazy, Hates Children. (Additional: Jealous, Squeamish)

Aspiration: Beach Life.

Career: Freelance Fashion Photographer.

Accept a job once a week.

Have a baby with one of the models that has the Mean, Hot-Headed or Evil trait.

Only have 1 child.

Have a bad relationship with your child.

Move to San Myshuno as an Adult.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Charisma and Photography skills.

[Packs used: Get Famous, Outdoor Retreat, Moschino, City Living]

Generation Seven: Ruby.

You constantly heard your parents fighting over something. They were never not fighting. You found your solace in music; listening to it, writing it, playing instruments, just everything about it. You get married young just so you can move out. But you’re in love with a musician on the side. You’re not really sure if you should keep seeing them, or stick by your spouse. You never really were good with decisions, especially ones that could really impact your future.

Traits: Music Lover, Hot-Headed, Childish. (Additional: Erratic, Dance Machine)

Aspiration: Musical Genius.

Career: Live off tips and fame.

Marry and move out as a YA.

Have a bad relationship with your parents.

Cheat on your spouse with someone who plays an instrument or sings.

Only earn money from tips when you play instruments or sing in public.

Have either a dance battle or karaoke night once a week.

Obtain fame, at least c-lister, from music.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Singing, Dancing and any instrument skills.

[Packs used: Get Famous, City Living, Get Together]

Generation Eight: Magenta.

You’ve always used humor and pranks as a way to cope with everything going on in your life. No one but your best friend really gets you. It’s hard for you two to get over being friends when you realize that you have feelings for each other. Except, after having a baby together, you realize you were better off as friends. You still civilly raise the child, just not under the same roof anymore.

Traits: Paranoid, Goofball, Gloomy. (Additional: Clumsy, Cat Lover)

Aspiration: Chief of Mischief.

Career: Social Media.

Have a childhood best friend.

Have a baby with said best friend.

You and your best friend fall out, but you still raise the child civilly.

Have at least 1 cat.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Comedy, Writing and Mischief skills.

[Packs used: Cats and Dogs, Strangerville, City Living]

Generation Nine: Tangerine.

You prefer the finer things in life. You live in the city, but as a young adult working in law, you often take vacations to Mt. Komorebi. Where, when you fall in love with a local and have children, you take your children there often. Not until you retire, do you and your spouse move there. In the meantime, you enjoy the time you spend there; skiing, snowboarding, rock climbing, sightseeing, etc. You dream of your vacations while at work.

Traits: Adventurous, Kleptomaniac, Bro. (Additional: Lactose Intolerant, Materialistic)

Aspiration: Mt. Komorebi Sightseer.

Career: Law.

Take 2 vacation days a week to go to Mt. Komorebi.

Marry and have children with someone who lives in Mt. Komorebi

Continue living in San Myshuno until you retire and move to Mt. Komorebi.

Steal one item a day.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Skiing, Snowboarding and Rock Climbing skills.

[Packs used: Snowy Escape, Cottage Living]

Generation Ten: Aubergine.

Your parents always showed you the luxurious sides of life. Treating you to everything and anything you could ever imagine. It lit the way for your future career as a critic. You enjoyed being able to put your 2 cents into whatever you could get your neatly, well kept fingers on. You also always looked and presented to be your best self. 

Traits: Neat, Foodie, Snob. (Additional: High Maintenance, Perfectionist)

Aspiration: Party Animal.

Career: Critic.

Host 3 parties a week.

Each party has a theme; decorate and cook accordingly.

Get married 3 times (not to the same person).

Have 1 child per marriage.

Don’t get close to your children until they are Young Adults.

Max your career.

Complete your aspiration.

Master the Cooking, Writing and Gourmet Cooking skills.

[Packs used: Spa Day, City Living]

[throneofsmut]

Kinktober Day Twenty-Four : Hunter / Prey Azriel x Female Reader Author's Note: This is heavily Zade Meadows coded 🙂

Rhys was briefing Azriel on his cousin - you - from the Autumn Court.

Your mother and Rhys’ Father were half siblings, Rhys has vague memories of playing with you when you were both children. He hadn’t seen you in centuries though, all he heard were whispers of you being Eris’ personal spymaster. Others that you were just his little play thing.

Part of that was true, you were Eris’s spymaster but you weren’t his play thing. You’re his best friend and he is yours. So when he found out his father was planning a betrothal between his wretched brother and you, he sent you away.

You’d left Autumn and been in Velaris for a couple weeks now, you had gotten word to Rhys that you were back “home” and looking for employment. He knew he could trust you. Just because he hadn’t seen you didn’t mean he hadn’t heard from you throughout the centuries.

Rhys knew about the bargain between Eris and you. Still that didn’t stop you from sending word to him when you felt that certain information was vital to him and to the Night Court. He also knew you were a “good” spymaster and that was putting it lightly and if you wanted employment, employ you, he would. He just needs to know how good you are.

Which is why he was briefing his brother and tasking him with finding out where you are in Velaris.

“When you find her, bring her to the House of Wind. I have a couple of questions for her.”

Azriel stood up and walked out on the balcony, about to take off.

“She’s not gonna make it easy for you, brother.” Rhys added.

Azriel turned his head to the side, “I’m counting on it.”

You made your way through the winding streets of the city of starlight, the darkness of night keeping you hidden from the spies Beron sent after you. The ones that did manage to find you were easy to lose. Some of them put up more of a fight but not much.

For some reason tonight felt different, the shadows felt as if they were alive, watching you. But you couldn’t focus on that because four of Beron’s spies were trailing you. They thought you were oblivious to their presence, but you had clocked them as soon as you left your apartment.

Making your way through the streets and little alleys that you knew like the back your hand, you kept a calm pace, waiting for the right place to strike. Yet your mind kept drifting back to shadows that watched you.

Finally making it to the edge of the city, you made your way towards a dead end. Beron’s spies weren’t far behind. Their footsteps were loud as they bounded down the cobblestone alleyways. Unsheathing the two daggers from behind your back you got into a fighting stance.

“Just come back with us Y/n and no one has to get hurt.” One of them spoke as they stood in front of you. They were trying to appear friendly but you took in the way their bodies were taut, preparing for a fight.”

“Come on, boys. You know that’s not gonna happen.” You voiced, lips curving up into a smirk.

“We don’t want to hurt you.” They replied, hands held up as they stepped closer.

“Don’t worry, you won’t.”

Those were the last words they heard before you unleashed yourself on them. They seemed like good males, only trying to complete their task so they wouldn’t have to deal with Beron’s wrath. So you did them a favor and gave them all a swift death.

You winnowed all four of their bodies to the edge of the Forest House, still using the night sky as cover before making your way back to your apartment.

Making your way into your room, settling into bed, the shadows on the balcony of your room caught your eye. But you were too tired from your eventful night and you drifted asleep.

Azriel Pov:

Seeing her in the flesh was completely different from what Rhys showed me in his memories. She was the most beautiful female I’ve ever seen, her body honed into a lithe toned weapon after centuries of training. And still she looks so soft, with sinful curves.

Finding her was easy. It was almost like she wanted to be found and I realized she did when there were four of Beron’s spies trailing her.

I stuck to the shadows, watching and assessing. I was going to jump in and help her when walked into a dead end but decided to let it play out, unless she needed help.

But, then she cut down four men like it was nothing, like they were nothing.

So when she winnowed their bodies to the Forest House, I followed. Watching as she displayed them for their High Lord to find. Staying a little while longer after she left, cutting down four more new spies that Beron had sent after her.

I’d gladly cut down anyone Beron sends after her, because I’m obsessed. I'm addicted. And I will gladly cross every single line if it means making this female mine. If it means forcing her to be mine.

No matter. She won’t be able to escape me now. I’ve just found myself a little mouse, and I won’t stop until I’ve trapped her.

Then I made sure she made it back to her apartment, waiting for her to fall asleep before reporting to Rhys what happened.

“She cut down four men ?” Rhys and Cassian questioned together, mouths agape.

Without even thinking my lips were curving into a smirk and I felt my face heat. “Yes.”

Rhys and Cassian looked at each other then back at me.

Cassian arched a thick brow, “Do you like her, brother ?”

I didn’t respond but I guess my silence was enough for Cassian because now he was howling with laughter.

“I know why she’s being hunted by Beron.” Rhys spoke hesitantly.

I couldn’t stop the words from leaving my lips. “Why ?”

“She’s betrothed to one of his sons, which one, I don’t know.”

There’s not an ounce of me that gives a fuck, she’s mine.

“Who told you ?” Cassian chimed in, arms crossed.

“Eris. He also told me that tomorrow when she goes out for her morning run in the forest, Beron plans to trap her at any cost. He’s sending his best spies and other spies from the continent. They should be moving into position now as we speak.”

I stood up without another word. Siphons blazing bright.

“Az where are you going ?”

“To the forest.” And with that I was gone using my shadows to winnow into the forest. It took me all of ten minutes to cut down the spies in the forest. My body moving on its own, as a lethal rage took over, at the thought of my little mouse being taken from me.

Reader Pov :

There was that feeling again as you made your way deeper in the forest, for your morning running.

Your senses were telling you there was someone there but you couldn’t see anything. Until you heard him, his voice, promising danger but it turned you on nonetheless.

“Run,” he growls, “if I catch you, I fuck you.”

Your heartbeat quickened at his words and just like that you took off. Running through the trees of the forest laughing wildly. You hear him getting closer but your body betrays you as soon as you scent him, his arousal. You know your scent shifted too because of the half growl, half grunt he lets out.

You turn around facing him, breathless as you take in the sight of him. The most beautiful male you’ve ever seen. A wicked smirk is on your lips as you size him up. You just know it’s big.

You're smaller than him so it makes it easier for you to out run him, circling around him before you take off again. But this time you don’t make it more than a hundred feet before you wrapped up in his arms and he winnows the both of you back to your apartment.

Before you can even ask how he knows where you live, his body is pressing into you as he cages you against the wall of your living room. Lips sucking your neck harshly, his teeth nipping at the soft skin there. Before soothing the skin with his tongue. Then he moves one of his scarred hands down the front of your pants, rubbing tight circles over your swollen clit.

“Oh fuck!” You cry out in pleasure, grinding your ass on his clothed cock, feeling just how big he is and how hard.

Then you’re enveloped in darkness - shadows you realize - then you're being laid face down on the edge of your bed.

“Azriel.” It comes out as a statement, more than a question.

He chuckles darkly, “It’s me, little mouse.”

The cold air hits your exposed cunt, as he pulls down your pants. Then you feel the head of his cock rub through your wet folds. Rubbing against your sensitive clit.

Azriel pushes all the way into you in one thrust, his cock is buried inside of you as you cry out fisting the sheets. “Oh gods.”

He groans as he lets you adjust to his size, grabbing your ass roughly, then slapping it.

“Fuck, baby. You feel so good, wrapped around my cock.”

“Please, Az.” You whimper beneath him. Completely at his mercy.

He withdraws. Then slams his hips into you again, his balls slapping against your cunt. You meet each one of his thrust, your ass smacking against his sharp hip bones. Moving one of your hands to circle your clit you cry out in pleasure. “F-fuck!”

You’re already going to cum. The way he’s fucking you like a wild animal in the most delicious way, hitting that sweet spot that has you seeing stars is enough to send you over the edge. And just like that you’re coming.

His pace unfaltering as he continues rutting into you, You’re a shaking, babbling, incoherent mess beneath him as he fucks you through your orgasm. His shadows, moving your hand to circle your clit instead.

Still panting, “Az it’s too much, please.” He lands a harsh smack to your ass before gripping your hips roughly, “Your body was fucking made for me. So you’re gonna be a good girl,” he growls, “and fucking take it.” Suddenly you're coming again, even harder this time, your body feels like it’s on fire.

But you can’t get enough of it, of him.

“Fuck I need-“ Then he’s turning you around, to face him, desperately, “Need to see you.” He panted, resting his forehead on yours. His eyes are piercing yours as he fucks your faster and hard, ramming himself into you. Your nails claw at his back, mindful of his large wings.

And then, you’re falling over the edge again for the third time tonight. You feel Azriel cum right after you, as he bites you where your shoulder meets your neck. The both of you pant softly trying to come down from your highs when he utters, “I’m going to keep you, little mouse. You’re mine.” Possessiveness lacing his tone.

“Only if you’re mine.”

He chuckles darkly. Pupils flaring before wrapping a scarred hand around your neck, placing a possessive kiss on your lips.

Once he pulls back he tells, “By the way, your cousin wants to talk to you.” You laugh, rolling your eyes at his words.

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

[love-letters-for-wise]

I Want Movie, Not Feelings! (Wise x gn!reader)

[ no beta we die like Ethereals | OOC possibility ]

It was no secret that the Random Play siblings were quite the hustle-bustle. Apart from managing the video store, to a few, they also take "special" commissions to guide people at the Hollows. Not only that, being proxies, they had to keep their true identities a secret from parties seeking to unveil them. Though some, a select few people, were aware of the siblings' double lives.

One of the few people was you. Circumstances led you to discover the people behind Phaethon, and since today, you had been bound by a contract that wouldn't let you sell them out. No matter how high the price offered by desiring shadows.

Hence why, you did the second thing you could do best; befriending them! If you couldn't make them your enemies, then you would try to gain their favorability--maybe you could extract a favor or two from them.

That afternoon, you stopped by Random Play, wanting to browse what movie to play later in your homely, well-deserved movie night. The flyer of the memory-erasing pen you got from the technology store a few blocks away shoved down your purse. A silly machine, too expensive for you to want it. The sound of your arrival alerted the person in charge, prompting a "Welcome to Random Play" from behind a rack. A head popped from the side.

"Oh, it's you." Wise's voice sounded a bit guarded no matter how many times you had gone here, but he was quick to put up the professionalism. "Any movie you're looking for today?"

You hoped you could show a bewilderment, but his cynical--you meant--caution did deserve praise sometimes. Your eyes wandered around before settling on his form. "Yeah, I'm looking for something to eat my dinner with. Got any nasty murder documentaries with you?"

Wise was for sure weirded. You caught how his eyebrows slightly furrowed, it didn't help too that his eyebags seemed to enhance that emotion, before guiding you to a rack.

"We have..." Wise's fingers hovered in the air before settling on a video cover. "Don't Fuck with Bangboos," and those fingers began to slide as he listed all the titles on that one row. Just four movies there.

"Huh. And here I thought there would be more variety." Your eyes settled on Wise, the accusation clear knowing how much Wise loved documentaries. You were responded with a sigh.

"Unfortunately, documentaries-lovers, me included, would rather see things they can be grateful of--we have enough 'loss' already."

"Doesn't mean you can't have more of the darker documentaries."

"Never said that; I'm just saying there isn't enough demand for them." His eyebrows furrowed once more. He looked old.

"You really gotta stop trying to merge your eyebrows" Now it was your turn to furrow your eyebrows. Your face quickly relaxed while throwing him a grin, though. "Lest you want wrinkles at your age."

Wise's eyebrows slowly relaxed, staring at you with a passive look.

"There. Much better!" You huffed a wider grin. "Now, with what should you service your customer?"

Reluctantly, a smile formed on Wise's face. Shit, he looks cute. You mentally punched yourself for that.

"O-okay! Good!" Did you just stutter? "I'll be taking 'Don't Fuck with Bangboos', then! S-shall we go to the cashier?" A high-pitched voice.

Okay, NOW you're starting to change your mind on that memory-erasing pen.

Calm down, you! If you keep doing that, you're basically foiling your own plan.

You didn't hear exactly what Wise said. You just heard a plural amount of something, fished your purse and put some dennies on the counter, and took the movie. You did it! You did them all while remaining calm and not looking rushed or anything!

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Wise looked at the counter where you put your dennies on. After counting them, he found that you also put a little piece of paper along. He picked it up, finding the word "Wipe anyone's memory! Rebrand yourself anew!" at the top.

[mirensiart]

thinking about Chain’s dynamics with the rest of the uh the chain and hmmmm

I think he’d be besties with Hyrule+Wild right off the bat, like the chaotic explorer energy is also part of him so he’d find a kindred spirit in those two lol

he’d also get along with Wind, but like not immediately, cause of his small idol worship thing he has going on there lol he’d be pretty intimidated and be all stiff and formal around Wind at first, but I can see Wind making an even extra effort to interact with him and to show him that he’s not intimidating at all!! BEFRIEND ME PLEASE LMAO

with Legend they’d probably clash a lil since Chain is pretty sarcastic/ironic himself, but they’d eventually bond and exchange sarcastic remarks back and forth lol

Also I can see Legend and Four being all over Chain’s magic chain lol like how it works and the material it’s made of, etc. he lets the smithy analyze it and they hang out and talk about weapons, cause Chain as a bounty hunter is pretty knowledgeable about weapons and items and stuff lol

He’d vibe with Sky too but be a little wary of him, I think. I’m cooking something for the KeyChain storyline that has to do with the master sword and like, he doesn’t have a good experience with it AT ALL, so yeah. He’d like Sky better if it weren’t for the master sword being always there.

Chain is a little like Wind in the sense that he is an older brother (but of A LOT of siblings) so being treated as a younger sibling does not vibe with him at all, he doesn’t appreciate all the big brothering from Twilight not one bit lmao makes it a bit of a tense relationship between them at first, but Chain eventually learns that Twilight’s way of showing affection is to fret and fuss over others so he lets him, eventually

Ough he really doesn’t vibe with Wars at first AT ALL since he doesn’t like soldiers lmao as a bounty hunter he had to work with them a lot, and most of them would either ignore him or treat him badly, he also had soldiers chase him and key around cause of the bounty on her head, so he really doesn’t like them. He’d still follow Wars’ orders though. It takes him saying one sarcastic thing to Wars and for Wars to reply back with an even more sarcastic reply for the bonding to start lmao LIKE OH ANOTHER SARCASM ENJOYER 👀 much like with Legend, they bond over exchanging sarcastic remarks lol

He’s wary of Time cause, like Wind, he grew up with the Hero of Time story (though it’s not as frequently told as the adventure of the Hero of Winds) so Time is like, this larger than life hero from the ancient stories, probably thought to be a myth kinda deal by the time Chain’s era comes along. It takes him a while to see him as like, a person, instead of the ancient hero

he sees Time silently and with a deadpan face prank Twilight without being caught and Time immediately goes up the “favorite hero” list in Chain’s head, Time says one awful pun in front of Chain once, and Chain is already putting him in the number 1 tier lmao

If we add Spirit to the chain, then that’s Chain’s number 1 bestie, his best friend forever, he sticks to Spirit the entire time. Has a small idol worship going on too, but isn’t intimidated like with Wind and Time, he really wants to be friends lmao he knows all about him thanks to Key and like, thinks he’s very cool. He also sees him as family cause of his relationship with Key lol the one thing they clash about is that Chain does not like trains at all, since he fell off one after trying to go train hopping lol Spirit eventually re-introduces him to trains and how to ride them SAFELY and ok yeah, well, he supposes train are a little bit cool…

[wabatle]

𓆩⚝𓆪 — Siblings go from love to hate

𓆩⚝𓆪 — Synopsis: both of your relationships with your brothers get destroyed. what now?

𓆩⚝𓆪 — Warnings: reader gets implied thoughts of suicide/self-harm/self-hatred, lots of swearing

𓆩⚝𓆪 — Contains: fem!reader (use of sister), reader gets a partner without a specified gender

𓆩⚝𓆪 — A/N: anon i'm going to start calling you the itoshi brothers anon unless you come up with a label for yourself (which is okay). your brain>>>>>>

Ever since you were young, you had always had a close relationship with your brothers. Even since they were born, you knew they loved you.

“Rin…” Your little self gently pushes open the door.

“What is it, (name)?” He replied.

“I'm bored. Wanna play together?”

He blinked. “Sure. Come here.” He patted the ground next to him.

You never thought to treasure moments like these, as you never thought anything could happen to the three of you.

“Sae, Rin, you're so cool!” You exclaimed after seeing the two of them win another match.

Sae ruffled your hair. “Thanks, (name).”

“You're cool as well. You're really smart.” Rin told you.

Everything changed when Sae went to Spain.

It was no secret that things were different. You were missing a whole older brother.

As Sae was doing whatever it was he was doing in Spain, your bond with Rin just grew stronger.

“Good luck in Spain, Sae.” You told your brother. “Don't get a girlfriend and forget about me.” You hugged him.

“I won't.” He hugged you back. “Same thing goes for you, too. No getting a boyfriend. Ever.”

“I love you, Sae.”

“I love you too, my baby sister.”

You stepped back and held Rin’s hand. Saying goodbye had always been hard for you.

You watched the plane take off, and that was it. Your older brother was gone.

“So… what now?” You asked Rin nervously.

“I…I’m not sure.” He replied.

Four years later, you witnessed Rin get crushed by Sae. You saw all of it. It was horrible to watch. The bond the three of you had, ripped to shreds. You tried to catch Sae as he was leaving.

“Sae!”

He stopped and looked at you.

“U–um, welcome home…”

“Thanks.”

“A–about what happened just now—”

“Save it. I don't want to hear it. He's lukewarm and useless. That's all there is to it.”

“B–but—!”

“Enough. You're just as lukewarm as him. You'll never even be as good as Rin, let alone me. You're lukewarm and useless. I truly am disgusted to call a disgrace like you my younger sister.”

Tears ran down your face. Sae continued walking ignoring your tears. Only 5 years ago would he have dropped everything to make sure you were okay. Now, he doesn't even care.

You dropped to the ground, sobbing. You hated everything. You wondered why the world had decided to punish you in this way, and what you had done.

Slowly, you made your way back home. You went right to your room and locked yourself in. You began to question everything. If you really were useless, if you were good enough, if you were worthy of being alive.

You closed yourself off from everyone. You hardly talked to your friends at school, you blankly sat through conversations with your parents. But worst of all, you and Rin avoided each other.

There was… unsaid tension. Both of you had been hurt by Sae. Neither of you wanted to talk to each other. Rin was too busy thinking about what Sae said while you had convinced yourself that Rin was upset at you.

Rin caught you in the hall of your home one day.

“Hey.” He said, averting your gaze.

“Hi.” You said, also looking away.

“Why haven't you come out of your room? You haven't eaten, you haven't spoken to me, why? What happened?”

“I–I don't know,” You stuttered, “I just… kinda thought you were mad at me.”

“I'm not.”

“Are you sure? You seem kinda irritated…”

“No, I'm fine.” His tone was more hostile.

“Um… okay.” You were surprised by his hostility. He usually was never this cold to you. “I'm just gonna go, then.”

“We're not done talking.” He grabbed your wrist.

“Rin—”

“Stop running from me—”

“Can I just go to the bathroom? Please?”

He let go. “Oh. Fine. Sorry.”

You locked yourself in the bathroom for a while, each time hesitating to come out in case Rin was waiting for you.

Finally, you came out, and to your relief, Rin was nowhere to be found.

You made your way straight to your room, skipping dinner once again that night.

You heard a knock on your door. “(Name)?” You heard Rin's voice. “Can I come in? I brought you dinner.”

Reluctantly and nervously, you got up and opened the door. “I'm not hungry.”

“Like hell you aren't. You haven't eaten all day.”

And, like a perfectly timed reason to prove the universe hated you, your stomach rumbled.

“That's what I thought.” Rin said, walking in and setting the plate down on your desk.

After a moment of very awkward silence, Rin spoke, “Did… Did Sae say anything to you?”

“Um, no.” You lied.

“Oh. Well, he said something to me.”

“...Oh?” You replied with feigned curiosity.

“He said that… No, it's nothing. But what he said made me realize something.”

You could tell where this was going immediately.

“You're gonna tell me that you hate me, huh? You're gonna tell me that you're disgusted to call a leech like me your sister, aren't you?”

“What? No—”

“Get out of my room, Rin. I don't want to talk to you.”

“Fine. Eat.” Rin got up and left, leaving you to cry on your own.

The next day, Rin approached you after school.

“You're skipping practice—” Rin cut you off.

“I was thinking about what you said last night. And you know what? You're right. I do hate you.”

You stared at Rin, eyes widening in fear.

“You're useless. You don't add anything to this family and instead drag us down. You'll never be successful, you'll never make any achievements, nothing. You have no talent.”

“R–Rin—”

“And you were right. I'm disgusted to call you my younger sister. Don't talk to me until you've done something with your worthless life.” He waved you off and left for practice.

You were horrified. Your self-deprecation just got worse from here, causing you to fall into a spiraling depression.

When Rin left for Blue Lock, you were more than relieved. You slowly started to feel safe at home again, but your parents, now with only one child at home, took every chance they could to bother you.

Now, you're twenty two. You moved out to University and you found a partner. Not just a romantic partner, a marital partner. You were so excited to change your last name and leave your Itoshi past behind you.

That was, until one fateful day, your older brother showed up on your doorstep. Sae.

“What are you doing here?” You snarled.

“I came to see you. And how you were doing.”

“I'm doing fine, thanks for asking.” You said with a forced smile. “Much better than I was seven years ago.”

“(Name), listen—”

“No. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear some half-baked apology from someone who basically told me I didn’t deserve to be alive. I will never forgive you, and I should be the one ashamed to have such an asshole for a brother. Get out of my house, Sae.”

“I’ll be waiting here until you’re ready to forgive me. I’m aware that what I said was not only horrible, but also straight up false. I love you, you’ll always be my little sister. But I understand if you want to cut contact with me.”

Your expressions softened into a surprised one. “Sae… I hope you know it would take me a really long time to forgive you. You said some really shitty stuff that day.”

“I know. But I can wait.”

“I think it’s best if you just leave.” You said, averting his gaze.

“Okay. Um, I got a new number, so if you want it, let me know.”

You nodded, and Sae walked away. You sat down and put your head in your hands. Just five more days. Then you’ll finally no longer be an Itoshi.

Unfortunately, those five days were nothing short of chaotic. Especially because Rin showed up at your door two days later.

There was only one way you thought Rin could’ve found out about your engagement and your new address.

Sae.

He must’ve noticed the ring on your finger and told Rin.

“Um… Hey, (Name)...”

“What do you want? Why are you here?”

“I, um… I heard you’re engaged.”

“And? What is it to you?”

“I think I have a right to know what’s going on in my sister’s life.”

“Not anymore you don’t. Not after what you said to me.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“But you did, didn’t you? No fixing it now.”

“Don’t get feisty with me.” Rin growled.

“I can act however I want towards you. I’m not the one who crushed your confidence.”

“(Name)—”

“I don’t want to hear it! Back off and go home, Itoshi!”

“Fuck you! I meant every fucking word I said back then, bitch!”

“Oh, go fuck yourself! Get out of my life and don’t come back! I don’t need someone like you in my life!”

“Fine! Fuck you!” Rin started walking away.

“Don’t talk to me again, asshole!” You shot at him one last time.

Rin flipped you off and kept walking.

Rin, you would never forgive. Sae, maybe, with a lot of love and care, maybe you would forgive Sae.

Just three more days, and then you’ll no longer be an Itoshi.

𓆩⚝𓆪 — thank you for reading!

𓆩⚝𓆪 — taglist (ask 2 be added): @mariaace @plsmarrymehioriyo @stellas-starry-stories13

𓆩⚝𓆪 — blue lock masterlist || masterlist

[normspellsman]

Truly & Honestly

part one | part two | part three | part four (wip)

pairing: ao’nung x fem!sully!reader, lo’ak x twin sister!reader, & jake sully x daughter!reader

genre: angsty, comfort (from jake to reader), fluff, ao’nung being a simp for the reader, & the twins make up (yay!)

word count: 3.9k+

warning(s): jake feeling like he’s not an adequate father, lo’ak still in his self loathing era, lo’ak missing his twin :(, ao’nung growling, the sully twins crying, kissing, & reader + ao’nung being cute af

word bank: kehe — no, skxawng — moron; idiot, sempul — father, sempu — daddy (term of endearment), eywa / great mother — goddess deity that the na’vi believe in, paysyul — water lily, & sayrìp — handsome

taglist: @aonungsmate @dearstell @optimisticblazetrash @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @goodiesinthecloset21 @universal-s1ut @amortencjja @liyahsocorro @minkyungseokie @chshshhshshshshshshshs

note: kinda rushed the end bc i struggled with figuring out what lo’ak should say & the reader should respond with & this is what i came up with. hope i did it justice & well enough. i swear i never read or written the words gently & softly so many times in my life holy shit 🧍🏻. anyway, the long awaited part three is finally here! yayyy! enjoy lovelies <3

It had been days since the last time you talked to Lo’ak, ignoring him everywhere you went.

At first, he avoided you too, trying to gather his thoughts and think of a way to apologize to you. He tried a couple of things that worked back when you both were children. He made you a new armband that matched his, but he didn’t see you wearing it the next day. He then made you a small trinket to add to your ever growing collection of random shit you found, but it was right where he left it the next day. He then tried to talk to you but all he received in return was your silence and Ao’nung’s small growls in warning for him to step away. Lo’ak felt like he was going to circles. He felt utterly hopeless.

It wasn’t long until both of your parents and remaining siblings realized your avoidance towards each other. Neteyam had failed to tell Jake and Neytiri about what happened that fateful night, in turn disregarding telling Kiri and Tuk. He wanted Lo’ak to tell them for himself or at least have you confront them about it and receive comfort from them. But he knew the both of you were too stubborn to ask help from your parents, so one night he asks no one in particular if they knew why you were, yet again, staying over in Tsireya and Ao’nung’s marui pod.

His question made Lo’ak freeze and nearly choke on the food that was halfway down his throat, harshly swallowing in discomfort.

Neytiri was deeply disturbed by your absence. She missed you dearly. She asked you many times as to why you were never around and you never gave her the truth, wanting Lo’ak to do it on his own. You’d always give her an answer of Tsireya is offering me extra breathing lessons, it’s just easier if I stay over for dinner tonight or Tsireya and I wanted a sleep over. Neytiri always frowned at your answers, knowing that you weren’t telling her the truth. But she never pried. She knew that you would tell her the true reason someday so she let you stay with Tsireya as long as you needed.

Jake didn’t realize your distance until nearly a week after the fight. He had been too caught up in his training with Tonowari and making sure that Quaritch was nowhere near Awa’atlu to comprehend your absence from the family for one too many nights. But once he did, he felt uneasy. He knew you like the back of his hand. He had to. You’re his first born daughter, it was expected of him to. He was always the first person you’d run to whenever you had any kind of problem, confiding in him for a solution or aid. It warmed his heart that he was the first person you came to in time of need, made him feel wanted and loved. So when he saw you barely glance at Lo’ak or even say goodbye to them before heading off to wherever you had in mind, he felt unease settle itself on to his chest. He knew something was wrong and wanted to know what it was, but didn’t want to pry it out of you. It wouldn’t work. He felt helpless and wanted to figure out whatever was wrong so you’d stop distancing yourself from the family. He just wanted his little girl back.

The night Neteyam had asked that question, made Neytiri and Jake pop up in interest and repeat the question to their circle of children.

Lo’ak wanted to tear his older brothers head off right then and there. He didn’t need his parents meddling in both of your business. This was something between him and you, not your parents.

Kiri and Tuk had also realized your absence but didn’t give it too much thought. You always hung out with them at your guys spot and interacted with them. Yeah they found it odd that you rarely slept in the family pod and if you did, you were the first person awake and out of the house. So Neteyam’s question piqued their interest.

It took a lot of prying on Neteyam’s part to finally get the truth out of Lo’ak, but once he did, shit hit the fan.

“Kehe!” Neytiri gasped out, truly surprised at her sons words, “You did not!”.

She thought she raised both of her sons to respect all women, especially the ones in their lives. She couldn’t believe that her own son called his own twin a slut. And for what? Seeing the Olo’eyktan’s son and not telling a single soul about it? Neytiri was flabbergasted at the news.

“Boy,” Jake growled, beyond pissed at his sons previous actions and lack of communication about what occurred. He didn’t even need to ask Lo’ak about whether what he said was true or not, it was written on his face that he was guilty.

He found himself disappointed in his son, perhaps even more so than he usually was whenever he heard or caught Lo’ak doing something he wasn’t supposed to do. Jake had made sure to instill how he and Neteyam should treat every woman they came into contact with, continuously reminding them to behave accordingly and treat them with respect no matter what. So to hear that his son had called you, his sister, a slut for seeing a boy, made his blood boil. I’d ought to show that boy how humans would treat him, he thought in response.

“I know,” Lo’ak croaked out, on the verge of tears. His guilt was eating at him everyday, practically being the only emotion he felt for nearly the past two weeks. “I know what I said was completely out of line. I was angry and that isn’t an excuse for what I said. I am desperately trying to make it up to (Y/N), but nothing’s working. I’m going in circles trying to,” he finished, tears running down his cheeks.

Lo’ak knows that he shouldn’t be crying. That he doesn’t deserve to. That he doesn’t deserve anyone's pity for what he did. But the guilt ate away at him and he couldn’t help but cry. He just wanted you to forgive him and be his twin again, his other half. He felt incomplete without you by his side. It physically hurt to have you avoid him and not have you next to him.

Tuk had wiggled her way into Lo’ak’s lap in order to comfort him, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck as he cried into her shoulder.

Every Sully member could see just how much Lo’ak regretted saying what he did. They felt bad that he was feeling the way he did but they also knew that he deserved your avoidance and distance. It was the only way that would allow Lo’ak to see the impact of his words.

———

You were laying on the soft, warm sand below you when a shadow covered the suns soft rays, blocking them and covering you in its coolness.

You quickly opened your eyes to see who it was and to shoo them away, not in the mood. But your mouth quickly shut itself once you saw your Sempul hover over your relaxed figure, a small smile on his face.

“Sun bathing?” He asked, sitting next to you as you sat yourself up.

You only shrugged in response, wrapping your arms around your legs and pulling them up to your chest.

You felt bad for essentially ignoring all of your family members, but it was the only way to get it through Lo’ak’s thick skull the kind of impact his words had on you.

Your Father hums and looks out to the water line, silence overtaking the moment for a few beats. Until he finally speaks.

“Lo’ak told me,” he starts, “About what happened that night. Don’t worry. I gave him a stern talking to,” he continued, giving you a small smirk at his words.

Jake’s stern talking to’s almost always involved him dragging one of his children somewhere, yelling at them for Eywa knows what they did, and giving them some sort of punishment that will go on for however long Jake deems necessary. You found yourself wondering what punishment your brother got for his actions.

“I figured,” you chuckled, still looking out towards the water line in front of you.

“I’m sorry, babygirl. I know that it shouldn’t be me apologizing, but,” Jake says, tip of his tail swishing back and forth a bit before resting by your siding, curling itself around you gently for comfort, “Your brother is a complete skxawng. And I’m sorry for…not instilling it in Lo’ak’s brain enough to not call anyone, you that.”.

Your head whips towards your Fathers direction at his words.

“There’s nothing for you to apologize for, sempu,” you replied, eyebrows furrowed together, “Lo’ak is a skxawng and said something he shouldn’t have. He knew what he was doing and none of that reflects your teachings.”.

Jake could almost scoff at how wise you sounded. Since when did you become so wise?

Your Father only hummed in response. He wanted the best for his little girls, for you. And to hear that his own son had insulted his daughter and took his words to heart made him feel as if he wasn't adequate enough as a Father. He spent so many years craving for a family of his own before he was sent to Pandora, knowing that it wasn’t possible in his human condition. And once he finally got it, he felt over the moon. He wanted his children to love and respect each other, something that was a struggle for him and Tommy growing up. So being in this current predicament and having you and Lo’ak avoiding each other like the plague, made him feel as if he wasn’t successful in emphasizing how important family was to his children.

“I think you should hear him out,” Jake whispers to you, turning his head to face you, smiling gently down at you, “You don’t have to now. But, soon. Whenever you feel like it,” he reassured.

Your lips pierced together into a thin line, head nodding at his words.

You know that you should give Lo’ak some benefit of the doubt and at least listen to what he has to say, but it’s hard. The last thing your brother said to you were words that caused severe distress to your psyche. To be honest, you were terrified to see what he had to say. To see if he truly meant it or not.

“I’ll try,” you replied.

Your Father continued to look down at you as he smiled, bringing you into his side as he placed a soft kiss on the crown of your head. You laid your head on his shoulder in response.

“So, Ao’nung, huh?” Jake snorts out, teasing you.

“Dad!” You groaned out, covering your face with your hands as you lightly shoved him away, earning a loud cackle from your Father.

———

You were with Ao’nung when Lo’ak approached you for the first time in nearly two weeks.

Ao’nung had taken you out on a date around the island, as he usually did just to show how much he adored you. It almost always consisted of Ao’nung taking you to one of the many jewelry stands the Metkayina jewelers had out, telling you to pick whichever necklace, bracelet, or armband your heart desired and gently putting it on you once you budged, walking with you hand in hand around the island, twirling you around as you two danced to his light humming and singing, and finally going for a swim to wrap up your time together. Even though the dates were repetitive and always the same, they never failed to make you smile from ear to ear and warm your heart. It was something that you and Ao’nung did together to enjoy each other’s company. It was nice.

The both of you were spinning and dancing around in the warm sand as your boyfriend softly sang a song his Sa’nok used to sing to him when he had trouble sleeping, the melody being gentle and delicate, a perfect song just to waltz or sway to.

Ao’nung pulled you into his chest, slightly leaning down to grasp your hands against his lean chest, dipping his head down so you were face to face. He continued to sing the song as he smiled, rough hands slowly moving from your hands on his chest to your shoulders down towards your back before resting against your hips, pulling you in even closer.

You giggled at the ticklish sensation Ao’nung’s hands left on your skin as they just barely grazed it, moving your arms to wrap them around the back of his neck, fingers making their way into his curly hair. Your fingers gently run through the loose ends of his bun before messaging the scalp underneath his usual hairstyle, elevating some of the pressure from the tightness of it.

The Metkayina boy shivered at your soft and slow touch, nuzzling his forehead against yours as the two of you swayed in the gentle breeze.

“You look so pretty, my paysyul,” Ao’nung whispered out, blue eyes deeply gazing into your amber ones. He loved calling you new pet names, enjoying the soft blush that spread itself across your cheeks and neck once you processed what he called you. You loved the nicknames he gave you as well, making your stomach churn in excitement and never failed to make you smile in adoration. He truly did love you and he expresses that in many different ways, pet names being at the top of the list.

A light purple hue painted itself across your cheeks and down your neck in response to your lovers nickname. “And you look so sayrìp, Ma’Nung,” you whispered back, smiling up at the boy.

The teen boy purred out at your response, softly rubbing his face into the side of your head, kissing the arch of your eyebrow.

Ao’nung halted his singing and humming for a moment, basking in the silence and blissful peace that settled itself into the moment. Everything in his life was so quiet and peaceful the minute you arrived on Awa’atlu. He didn’t know he could feel such peace with a singular person and he was glad that he felt it with you.

But, unfortunately, much like the event that occurred days prior, Lo’ak had to ruin it with the loud clearing of his throat.

A cold chill ran up and down your spine at the sound, stopping all movement you and Ao’nung were doing. A small growl emitted itself from the Metkayina’s throat, grip on your hips getting tighter as he pulled you closer into his embrace. It was a clear warning to Lo’ak to stay away from you and leave the two of you alone.

“Can I talk to you, (Y/N)?” Your brother asked, standing a good couple of feet away from the both of you.

Lo’ak had worked up a lot of nerve to approach your figures once he caught sight of the two of you dancing. He didn’t want to ruin the moment the both of you were sharing but he knew that if he didn’t go to you and try to talk to you now, he never would. So, he gathered up all the courage he could muster and made his way to you, hyping himself up on the way.

“Leave, Lo’ak,” Ao’nung hissed out, angling you away from your twin, “She doesn’t want to speak with you.”.

“I wasn’t speaking to you, fish lips,” Lo’ak argued, growling out. Your boyfriend shouldn’t be speaking for you when he wasn’t the one who decided things for you.

Another growl left Ao’nung’s lips as he glared at the Omatikaya boy, anger creeping up his throat. Your brother shouldn’t be speaking to you if you didn’t want him to, especially after what he said to you.

“Ao’nung,” you mumbled out, hands now on his chest, pushing him back slightly.

Much like your brother, you knew that if you didn’t talk to him at this moment, you most likely never will. You needed to nip this thing in the butt sooner than later.

You nodded at your boyfriend, telling him to stand down and give you and your brother some space, that it was okay to leave you alone with him.

Ao’nung only huffed in response, eyes narrowing at Lo’ak behind you. Before he parted ways with you, he captured your lips into a kiss, running the tip of his tongue across your bottom lip before pulling back, not giving you time to respond to his light teasing.

“Our spot after? Twenty after eclipse?” He softly asked, thumb running over your cheekbone as he grasped your face in his hands. He wasn’t very happy that your brother interrupted your alone time and didn’t want to leave you alone with the one that deeply hurt you, but he trusted your opinion and respected your wishes, no questions asked.

You hummed as a response to Ao’nung’s request. There was no way that you weren’t going to tell your boyfriend how this conversation was going to go. Albeit the tension only being between you and your brother, Ao’nung was very much involved as you were.

Once Ao’nung became only a speck in your eyesight, you finally turned around to face your brother.

“Yes?” You asked, arms folding over your chest in an attempt to protect and hold yourself together. You had no idea where this conversation was going to go and that made you anxious.

Lo’ak took a deep breath in before he breathed it out, quickly gathering and preparing himself before he opened his mouth to speak.

“I know apologizing, no matter how many times I do it, isn’t going to change what I said and the way it affected you. But, I am deeply sorry about what I said to you, about you. There is no excuse. I have no excuse,” he started, tears stinging his waterline, “I was so angry at that moment that common sense was thrown out of the window. I don’t even know why I called you that. I was just so angry that you were with Ao’nung, someone who made it quite clear that we were freaks and were not welcomed here. I know that he had been different after leaving me at the reef, which I could assume is around the time you two got together.”.

You nodded at his guess, confirming.

“But I still didn’t trust him. I thought he somehow managed to manipulate you into falling for him. That he was forcing you. It was the first thought that popped into my head when I saw you two that night. I couldn’t comprehend that someone like you, my sweet and caring sister, could fall for someone like Ao’nung, a mean bully who took pleasure in causing pain to others. Confusion and anger clouded my vision. I just…” he paused, a couple of tears had already dropped down his face, “I know that I am shitty at apologies and can never accurately get out my thoughts, but I am sorry for causing you so much pain from my words. I am such a shit brother and you shouldn’t accept my apology. This past week has been awful. I felt incomplete without you. You felt miles away when in reality, you were only feet away. There was this…emptiness inside of me whenever you weren’t by my side. Everything felt wrong without you there to experience it with me.”.

“I desperately missed you. So much. It physically hurt me to not have you by my side. It made me realize that my words and actions do have consequences and that I wasn’t going to escape this situation scott free. Dad gave me the worst scolding that I’ve ever gotten. He told me that I was really fucking stupid and ignorant with my words. That he and Mom raised me better,” a chuckle escaped from your lips at that sentence, only imagining the type of scolds and hisses Lo’ak received from both of your parents.

“Yeah, you were really stupid to say that,” you replied, arms still crossed against your chest but a small smirk on your lips this time. It was nice to hear from him that he was punished by your Father, solidifying what he had told you earlier. But you still felt somewhat bad for him, knowing how angry and intense your Father can get when dishing out punishments.

Lo’ak chuckled at your acknowledgment, wiping away a couple of tears that continued to run down his face. He wanted for days to hear your voice and for you to acknowledge him. He felt relieved that you were talking to him and actually were listening to what he had to say, even if he didn’t deserve to be heard.

“I’m so sorry. You are not what I said you were. You are not slut. There is no excuse for what I did and I know that I can’t take it back or make it up to you in any way that will undo the damage I did. But I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I will do anything,” he finished, eyes never leaving yours.

The smirk fell off your face after he was done and silence overcame the two of you for a couple of beats.

“What you said really hurt me, Lo’ak,” you started, arms uncrossing from your chest, “It really fucked me up for a while. The intensity of your words made me truly believe your words. I know now that you didn’t mean them but in the moment, it felt like you did. I avoided you to teach you a lesson. To teach you that what you said was not okay. I am sorry for making you feel that kind of pain from my absence. I felt the same too. There were too many times where I wanted to just give up and go and just sit by you to ease it, but I knew that would defeat the purpose of what I was trying to get through your insanely thick skull.”.

The both of you laughed at your childish insult, more tears running down the both of your cheeks.

“But,” you continued, “I forgave you the minute it happened, Lo. I forgive you. I just needed to teach you a lesson and make sure it actually stuck and made an impact,” you finished, hands grasping your brothers.

Lo’ak smiled down at you from his height, lips quivering as he did so. To hear that you forgave him immediately after it happened was relieving but also made him regret his words even more. You were so kind and forgiving to him when he felt like he didn’t even deserve it.

“I love you, sister,” he whispers, bringing you into his warm embrace, one hand going behind your head to pull it into his chest while the other one went around your waist.

“I love you too, brother,” you replied back, accepting his hug and wrapping your arms around his back.

The two of you stayed like that for a couple minutes, hugging as the waves softly lapped against the shore.

It felt good to have your brother back and to finally hug him again after all this time, the emptiness the both of you felt from each other’s absences now replaced with warmth and comfort.

You couldn’t wait to meet up with Ao’nung later and tell him all about your conversation.

[featguler]

getting caught up ────── in which eduardo suspects he is left out of something.

♡ ────── pairing : vinícius júnior x reader ♡ ────── tags : reader is eduardo camavinga's twin sister. she is a black french woman of angolan and congolese descent, she is described to be a carbon copy of camavinga. from camavinga's pov. pre-established relationship with vini and they're hiding it hehehe ♡ ────── wordcount : 1,612 ♡ ────── notes : i lost the ask, but it basically requested for vini dating a rma teammate's sister. this is such a cute prompt!! i tried writing this from cama's perspective if you don't mind, i think it made the whole thing more endearing. ♡ masterlist.

Vinícius José Paixão de Oliveira Júnior has met Eduardo’s twin sister 4 times.

 At least, to Eduardo’s knowledge, he has met her four times.

This is discounting all the time she’s come to visit him in his games, of course. Discounting all the sidehugs-out-of-courtesy that they shared, discounting all the smiles Eduardo caught them throwing at each other.

They have met exactly four times: two dinners in the Camavinga house, and the rest in a night out in Madrid.

And Eduardo has got this gut feeling that something is going on between them since the second dinner—no, he had thought initially with optimism, Viní is not her type. But he is her brother, and in his twenty-something years of living, his intuition as a sibling had never even once been wrong.

He tries to rationalise it: Aurélien smiles at her too, and Jude never misses any of her hugs either. She is friendly with Brahim and Rodrygo, and treats Arda like he is part of the family. 

But Eduardo is not suspecting that she is dating Aurélien or Jude now, is he?

No, no. This is not about Aurélien nor Jude, nor Brahim, nor Rodrygo.

“Viní.”

After a session of heavy workout together, Eduardo contemplates under the shower if he should bring the topic up with Vinícius. He doesn’t even know why he is nervous—he bites his bottom lips and watches as Vinícius bends to tie the laces of his shoes.

“Ay,” Vinícius grins, looking from his shoes to shoot Eduardo a questioning look. “What’s up, brother?”

Eduardo tries to hold back a cringe.

“My birthday’s coming up,” he tugs on the strap of his gym bag, a novel kind of insecurity is sinking in his stomach.

“Right,” Vinícius fixes his posture after pulling the laces in his sneakers tight, “you’re a November baby.”

“Baby,” Eduardo scoffs, shaking his head. “Not the point. I have to get a birthday gift for my sister. Got any ideas?”

“No.” With a raise of his eyebrow, Vinícius stands, carrying his gym bag the same way Eduardo is carrying his. “You were born from the same mother, you’d know her better.”

“Gotta get a second opinion, dude.”

“I don’t know, man. I mean, I’ve met her like— what? Four times?”

He slants his eyes, watching as Vinícius walks out the changing room. Suspicious. 

From one side of the living room, Eduardo’s eyes watch his twin sister’s every little move like a hawk ready to prey on all her defects. He drinks in her features and sees himself in her.

“Yo,” he calls out to her, and when she ignores him, he grabs a soft pillow and throws it across the room to her.

“What do you want?!” She finally lifts her eyes from her phone and shrieks, standing up to grab the pillow that has fallen to the floor before marching toward him.

“Damn!” Eduardo shields himself from her incoming attacks—when the silk cover makes contact with his skin, he grabs the pillow from her hand, and not willing to let go of her weapon, his sister pulls at it. “Calm down, woman!”

“You were the one throwing shit at me!” 

“Ow, ow!” He tries tugging on the pillow—but not too hard so that she doesn’t fall—and yells, “I just wanna know if you wanna have dinner on our birthday! Stop hitting me!”

His sister slants her eyes, the same expression that he makes whenever something gets him suspicious, and huffs. “No. I’ve got plans with my friends.”

“Friends?” Eduardo repeats with a mocking laugh, “Are they more important than me?”

She rolls her eyes. “A little bit.”

“Oh,” He leans back to the sofa, pursing his lips for a moment. “I get it. A boyfriend?”

“Friends, I said,” she says through gritted teeth, hitting him one final time with the pillow before dropping it on his lap. “We’ll have brunch or whatever. I’m booked in the evening.”

“You gonna spend the night with your boyfriend too?” He calls out as she exits the room—she pretends to not hear.

Eduardo presses his lips against each other.

“Maman,” Eduardo leans over the kitchen counter, peeling an orange open with both his hands, trying to look as unbothered as he can. “Do you think Y/N is dating anyone?”

“Y/N?” His mother is flipping through a retro magazine, on her hand a juice glass half-filled with kombucha. “She has a boyfriend, don’t you know?”

Like a dog, his ears perked. Eduardo stops peeling for a moment, tries to maintain his composure as he stares at his mother with his mouth agape.

“Right, I’ve got a feeling,” he finally decides to answer after clearing his throat. “Do you know who?”

His mom shrugs, taking a sip from her pretty drink. “No. She’s not ready to tell us. She’s got her reasons.”

“I think it’s someone from the team.”

“The team?” His mother stops to ponder for a moment. “Kylian?”

“No, ma,” he sighs. “Not French, I meant from Real Madrid. The Real Madrid team.”

“Oh,” she pauses again. “Federico?”

“He’s got two children.”

“Not on the national team, does not have kids. Rodrygo?”

“No.”

“Jude Bellingham?”

She says Jude’s name like he has not spent at least three dinners in the Camavinga household.

“No, ma. Viní. Vinícius Júnior.”

His mom stops her flipping when she hears his name, and Eduardo swears he can hear the gears in her head turning.

“That makes sense,” she finally says, after another sip of her kombucha. “I can see that.”

“Right!” He breathes a sigh of relief. “I know I’m not crazy.”

“I would prefer Aurélien or Kylian,” his mother shrugs. “Does Vinícius Júnior know how to speak French?”

She says his name like she had not hugged him countless times after matches.

Eduardo groans. “I’ll teach you Spanish, ma. It’s a piece of cake.”

It's not like Eduardo hates Viní. It's quite the opposite.

Eduardo loves Vinícius like he is his own brother: it’s like they bleed the same blood when they laugh together, it’s like they were made to match each other on the field.

No, it’s not about his sister dating Vinícius, per se. It’s about her dating a Real Madrid member.

Tonight, the Real Madrid team occupies the space of a populous bar in downtown Paris—Eduardo came with his older brother and his twin sister, while the rest of his family stayed home. It was a nice, private get-together. Federico brought his girl, Toni has his wife hanging on his arm, and Vinícius—well, Viní is talking to his sister on the opposite end of the room, not too intimate to be considered wallflowers, but not as social as Aurélien too, who is dazzling the room. 

“Is it just me,” Jude Bellingham muses as he sits next to Eduardo on the bar, “or is Viní tryin’ to hit on your sister?”

Eduardo rolls his eyes, swirling his sweet drink around the glass he is holding. “Catch up,” he murmurs as Y/N laughs at whatever Vinícius had just whispered in her ears. “I think they're dating.”

Jude blows a low whistle. “That’s crazy.”

“Tell me about it.”

“But listen,” only then does Eduardo notice the drawl in Jude’s voice. He turns to face Eduardo, eyes lidded and a hiccup is held back from his throat. “If Viní likes your twin sister—dating her, even—that means he’s attracted to you too—”

“Man,” Eduardo groans, smacking Jude’s chest to push him away lightly. “Stop with that bullshit.”

“You are carbon copies of each other,” Jude laughs, letting his hiccup loose. “Same eyes, same nose, same eyebrows—”

His boisterous laughter draws Vinícius’ attention towards them, and he quickly bids his goodbye to Y/N.

“I’m gonna have nightmares,” Eduardo groans, turning to face away from Jude. “Go find some other asshole to bother.”

“Since when did you start going out?”

Vinícius doesn’t move, like Eduardo’s question doesn’t bother him at all.

“A while,” he shrugs.

There they are again, in the same changing room that they were in a week or so ago; Eduardo had changed into his clean clothes, and Vinícius is tying his shoes. Aside from their voices, the changing room is silent.

“A while,” Edurado repeats, eventually moving to sit on the bench right next to Vinícius. “When is that?”

Vinícius ponders for a moment, glancing up at the ceiling. Eduardo watches his body language and concludes that he is more anxious confronting him about his relationship with his sister than Vinícius is getting confronted. 

“Don’t know,” he eventually answers. “We became official on May 14th.”

“May?” Eduardo does the mental maths and curses, “Fuck. Five months ago?”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Yeah, brother. Five months ago.”

“And I just noticed now?” Eduardo places his face on one hand, feeling stupid. “Fuck,” he curses again, “Why did you hide it from me?”

“I mean…” Vinícius trails, “It’s not like we were hiding anything. You never really asked.”

“I asked Y/N,” Eduardo defends himself, “She said she wasn’t dating anyone.”

“Yeah. She feels a bit off for going out with your friend. I guess, I’m not hiding anything, but she’s hiding something.”

“You also told me you’ve met her ‘like four times’,” he retorts, hoping to gain some satisfying answer from him.

“At her request,” he laughs. “Well— at her demand.”

“Shit,” Eduardo shakes his head. “I’m so stupid.”

He places his palm against his mouth, looking sideways to glance at Vinícius.

“If you fuck this up, I’m leaving Real Madrid.”

“More reason for me to not fuck anything up.”

Eduardo slants his eyes, before chuckling, using one hand to push Vinícius away. “You two are fucking unbearable.”

[t1oui]

tastastastassss please would you share some percy weasley headcanons or thoughts about him in general

(just remembered he and oliver wood were in the same year and thus dorm... and percy gives me Massive twink energy, like a less dramatic francis abernathy)

HI YES i will indeed do this

so yeah in canon percy and oliver shared a dorm but in my mind there is no way percy weasley isn't in slytherin so my percy shares a dorm w marcus flint instead. anyways here are some headcanons

he's very bisexual and yes definitely a twink

he's also tall. probably one of if not the tallest guys in his year

good poker face but this man is a huge simp. for christmas, valentine's day, oliver's birthday, etc. he always panics on what to buy and gets oliver like 40 things including like 8 bouquets of flowers lol

penelope clearwater and marcus flint are his best friends other than oliver !! these four are chaotic. marauders vibes but they don't get caught

definitely a bit of a drama queen, but he hates when people (marcus) point it out b/c he does not see himself that way.

studies too hard for his own good and still has time for quidditch somehow (he's only playing to beat fred and george. he's a chaser btw)

actually very sensitive. like he will be stoic until something inconveniences him and then he will SOB

hates himself a little bit (sometimes a lot) because he's so different from his family

insecure about his freckles

takes younger slytherin students (like draco malfoy) under his wing because he knows what it's like to be part of the house everybody hates

fully despises dumbledore

always the first to notice when something's wrong (quirrell being sus, something being wrong with "moody"/crouch sr, etc) but alwasy the last person adults listen to

has been best friends with ginny since she was a little kid

does more for his siblings than they realize. cares about them so much, and his heart breaks every time they choose to fight with him or tease him instead of seeing how fucked up it is that he was shunned for being different

was almost put in gryffindor/is in gryffindor because he's extremely brave

was put in slytherin/almost put in slytherin because he will do anything for those he cares about, even if it's considered morally wrong

has and will use unforgivables; they're just spells to him, they're not anything scary or different

patronus is a crow

animagius form (i told you he and his friends were like the marauders lol) is a cat

if he notices two people pining for each other he will do everything in his power to make them date because he's quite the romantic. oliver helps.

has trained himself not to blush because he's so pale he just turns into a beet if he blushes at all (his friends, oliver especially, still make him go red occasionally)

cut off contact with arthur and molly for a little while after the war and was only really talking to ginny, occasionally charlie and bill

becomes head of the dmle

starts a petition after the war to get the atrium statue at the ministry - which shows a bunch of non-wizard creatures looking up to wizards like they're the superior beings - taken down. he does not shut up about this project until the statue is replaced, he hates it so much

that's all for now !! but feel free to send me more asks, ty for this one :)

[techramonic]

What are some facts or tidbits about Daniel that you don't think is very well-known?

Hey! Thanks for the great question. I have a few things not a lot of people have talked about Daniel, all of which are information taken from his father's book: "Walking in Daniel's Shoes".

Facts about Daniel Mauser

1. Daniel's name came from the Biblical character Daniel and his mother Linda's fondness of Elton John's song titled with the same name. Conner was Linda's maiden name and since she was an only child, it was a way for them to carry her family's last name.

2. In sixth grade, he struggled somewhat with depression. After his mother sent him to a therapist, it was revealed that he was feeling stressed because at the time, he had pneumonia and missed school a few times. He felt that his teacher was pressuring him to catch up. Fortunately, he recovered after a few months.

3. Daniel used to be in cub scouts and boy scouts for a few years. Once school had became more hectic and he was more engaged in piano lessons, he dropped out of the scouts. He had earned basic badges but was not too enthusiastic with scouting long-term.

4. On July 24, 1999, Boy Scout 359 installed a park bench in Daniel’s memory along the South Rim Trail at Roxborough State Park, ten miles south of Columbine. Daniel was once a member of the Boy Scout Troop that preceded 359. Roxborough was the Mauser family’s favorite hiking area.

5. He played chess and won second place in a Denver metro tournament as a member of the school's chest club team. He also won two National Science Olympiad awards, presented to the top ten scorers in general science knowledge.

6. He was an occasional babysitter and was great with kids.

7. He was a Junior Volunteer at Swedish Hospital for two summers and helped in the pharmacy and he expressed interest in working in a medical or medical research field.

8. Despite winning often in games like Super Mario Brothers and even Foosball, his dad had caught on he was getting bored of playing with him, but despite that, he still played whenever he was invited because that was how much he loved his father.

9. He had a keen interest in current events and social issues and was a frequent reader of Time Magazine and viewer of 60 Minutes.

10. His father said he sometimes worried about little things, like if the gas tank in the car was getting too low.

11. He played soccer for a couple of years when he was younger, tried skiing, and played baseball on a YMCA team.

12. Before his death, Daniel's Biology teacher told his mother that he would be receiving an award for outstanding sophomore biology student. It was a supposed secret, one which Daniel never found out.

13. His family was very close. Tom described them as a "Dinner Table Family", who always ate dinner together. According to his father's words, "there was no sneaking off to watch the TV or play on the computer. We are together, talked together, and exchanged stories."

14. Daniel and his sister were close despite their contrasting personalities. Daniel was more like his mother—shy, introspective, intelligent, and calm. His sister Christine was like her father—outgoing, witty, a bit wild and crazy. He would often roll his eyes at her and in an exasperated tone, he would exclaim, "Theater people! Oh, my God!"

15. He had a dry sense of humor and his mom thought he prided himself on being a rational sort of fellow who was not given to drama of any sort.

16. Tom, Daniel's father, grew out of poverty. He came from Finelyville, a small town south of Pittsburgh. His father was a coal miner, his mother was a housewife, and he was the youngest out of four siblings. Tom rarely had pictures of himself. However, he didn't want that to happen with his children, so he would frequently take their pictures and film them to keep memories.

17. Daniel didn't like his pictures being taken when he was a teen. His father would still insist to take pictures for keepsake.

18. When he was fifteen and a half, Daniel was qualified to receive his driver's permit but he said he wasn't ready yet.

19. His nickname in debate class, according to Devon Adams, was "Moose": "So appropriate —it's a large, amusing but quick and fierce when-it-needs-to-be animal."

20. Daniel volunteered to rake the leaves off the lawn of a neighborhood senior citizen's house after he recently had a heartattack.